Miyerkules, Mayo 31, 2017

IN the reign of Haroun-al-Raschid, there lived in Bagdad a merchant named Ali Cogia, who, having neither wife nor child, contented himself with the modest profits produced by his trade. He had spent some years quite happily in the house his father had left him, when three nights running he dreamed that an old man had appeared to him, and reproached him for having neglected the duty of a good Mussulman, in delaying so long his pilgrimage to Mecca.
Ali Cogia was much troubled by this dream, as he was unwilling to give up his shop, and lose all his customers. He had shut his eyes for some time to the necessity of performing this pilgrimage, and tried to atone to his conscience by an extra number of good works, but the dream seemed to him a direct warning, and he resolved to put the journey off no longer.
The first thing he did was to sell his furniture and the wares he had in his shop, only reserving to himself such goods as he might trade with on the road. The shop itself he sold also, and easily found a tenant for his private house. The only matter he could not settle satisfactorily was the safe custody of a thousand pieces of gold which he wished to leave behind him.
After some thought, Ali Cogia hit upon a plan which seemed a safe one. He took a large vase, and placing the money in the bottom of it, filled up the rest with olives.
p. 347
[paragraph continues]After corking the vase tightly down, he carried it to one of his friends, a merchant like himself, and said to him:
"My brother, you have probably heard that I am staffing with a caravan in a few days for Mecca. I have come to ask whether you would do me the favour to keep this vase of olives for me till I come back?"
The merchant replied readily, "Look, this is the key of my shop: take it, and put the vase wherever you like. I promise that you shall find it in the same place on your return."
A few days later, Ali Cogia mounted the camel that he had laden with merchandise, joined the caravan, and arrived in due time at Mecca. Like the other pilgrims he visited the sacred Mosque, and after all his religious duties were performed, he set out his goods to the best advantage, hoping to gain some customers among the passers-by.
Very soon two merchants stopped before the pile, and when they had turned it over, one said to the other:
"If this man was wise he would take these things to Cairo, where he would get a much better price than he is likely to do here."
Ali Cogia heard the words, and lost no time in following the advice. He packed up his wares, and instead of returning to Bagdad, joined a caravan that was going to Cairo. The results of the journey gladdened his heart. He sold off everything almost directly, and bought a stock of Egyptian curiosities, which he intended selling at Damascus; but as the caravan with which he would have to travel would not be starting for another six weeks, he took advantage of the delay to visit the Pyramids, and some of the cities along the banks of the Nile.
Now the attractions of Damascus so fascinated the worthy Ali, that he could hardly tear himself away, but at length he remembered that he had a home in Bagdad, meaning to return by way of Aleppo, and after he had crossed the Euphrates, to follow the course of the Tigris.
p. 348
But when he reached Mossoul, Ali had made such friends with some Persian merchants, that they persuaded him to accompany them to their native land, and even as far as India, and so it came to pass that seven years had slipped by since he had left Bagdad, and during all that time the friend with whom he had left the vase of olives had never once thought of him or of it. In fact, it was only a month before Ali Cogia's actual return that the affair came into his head at all, owing to his wife's remarking one day, that it was a long time since she had eaten any olives, and would like some.
"That reminds me," said the husband, "that before Ali Cogia went to Mecca seven years ago, he left a vase of olives in my care. But really by this time he must be dead, and there is no reason we should not eat the olives if we like. Give me a light, and I will fetch them and see how they taste."
"My husband," answered the wife, "beware, I pray, of your doing anything so base! Supposing seven years have passed without news of Ali Cogia, he need not be dead for all that, and may come back any day. How shameful it would be to have to confess that you had betrayed your trust and broken the seal of the vase! Pay no attention to my idle words, I really have no desire for olives now. And probably after all this while they are no longer good. I have a presentiment that Ali Cogia will return, and what will he think of you? Give it up, I entreat."
The merchant, however, refused to listen to her advice, sensible though it was. He took a light and a dish and went into his shop.
"If you will be so obstinate," said his wife, "I cannot help it; but do not blame me if it turns out ill."
When the merchant opened the vase he found the topmost olives were rotten, and in order to see if the under ones were in better condition he shook some ont into the dish. As they fell out a few of the gold pieces fell out too.
p. 349
The sight of the money roused all the merchant's greed. He looked into the vase, and saw that all the

Biyernes, Mayo 19, 2017

CBOMTINUE 9 TALES OF INDALUS CHAPYER 3F

http://penelope.uchicago.edu/josephus/ant-1.html

Miyerkules, Mayo 17, 2017

assyria conquerred egypt

https://www.gutenberg.org/files/17325/17325-h/17325-h.htm

BIBLICAL HISTORY

http://www.gutenberg.org/files/27114/27114-h/27114-h.html

had people

http://lists.ibiblio.org/pipermail/b-hebrew/2000-June/007568.html

Lunes, Mayo 15, 2017

alexander the great

s://www.gutenberg.org/files/46976/46976-h/46976-h.htm#Page_14

Linggo, Mayo 14, 2017

DASYOUS PEOPLE OF INDIA

DASYOUS PEOPLE OF INDIA
http://www.gutenberg.org/files/20668/20668-h/20668-h.htm

aryans

s/17720/17720-h/17720-h.htm#CHAPTER_Vwww.gutenberg.org/file

Battle Outside Calcutta

http://www.gutenberg.org/files/18833/18833-h/18833-h.htm#Ch21

Sabado, Mayo 13, 2017

INDALUS2D

http://www.gutenberg.org/files/27114/27114-h/27114-h.html

Lunes, Mayo 8, 2017

MAGADASQAR TO MALACCA

http://www.gutenberg.org/files/15663/15663-h/15663-h.htm

http://lostislamichistory.com/sultanate-of-malacca/

about arab trader Scheherazade

Scheherazade

http://scheherazadetheatre.org/scheherazade_tale.htm

Scheherazade (Persian: Shahrazad) is the mythical storyteller of the Thousand Nights and a Night. Here’s her story, in brief.

    There was once a king named Shahryar, who ruled much of what is today India and Southeast Asia. To his chagrin he discovered his wife in the kitchen, under the cook. The king ordered his vizier to put the queen to death, and *swhup*, *clunk*, *wobble*went her head. King Shahryar then commiserated with his brother, who was also a king (of what is today Uzbekistan) and who had also recently killed an unfaithful wife. Totally depressed, the two of them ran away from their kingdoms together.
    Ambling on the seashore, King Shahryar and his brother Shahzaman beheld a giant demon coming toward them, cleaving the ocean like a sword, and they scurried up a tree to hide. The demon unlocked a chest and out popped a beautiful woman. The demon laid his head on this woman’s lap to sleep. But the woman slipped out, and, seeing two kings in a tree, demanded they both come down and have sex with her right then and there, or else she would wake the demon. They complied, and the woman afterward confiscated each man’s ring, adding them—lovers numbers ninety-nine and one hundred—to her collection. Then she let them go.
    Strangely, the kings felt better. “Here is a great demon,” they reasoned, “who has been cuckolded not once but a hundred times! We are not so bad off as we thought.” And with that cheery notion they returned to their respective kingdoms, bitterly convinced that all women everywhere were no better than the most cunning femme fatale.
    King Shahryar, on his return, ordered his vizier to bring him a virgin. He deflowered the girl, and, as she would surely someday betray him, ordered the vizier to kill her in the morning. That evening another virgin was presented, bedded, and beheaded at sunrise. This went on until the vizier could find no more virgins in the land. The old man despaired, knowing his head was next if the king’s id went unsated.
    The vizier’s eldest daughter, Scheherazade, learned of her father’s predicament and resolved both to save him and gain amnesty for the thousands of virgins who had fled for their lives across foreign borders. She offered herself to the king, and after sleeping with him told him a story. At dawn the story wasn’t finished, and King Shahryar was so enrapt that he put off slaughtering her till the next morning. But the next night’s after-sex story seamlessly ran into another story that, amazingly, was at a most suspenseful juncture when the sun rose.
    After a thousand and one nights, Scheherazade had borne King Shahryar three princes and told him the most marvelous tales (all true, of course) that anyone had ever heard: terrors greater than he and his brother had experienced with the demon; sweetness and ecstasy that their wives had known before their executions; and wisdom, heroism, love, and piety that Shahryar had never imagined, and could dream of now only because of his nights with Scheherazade.
    The king repented and married Scheherazade; all the virgins journeyed home from exile; and the land was fertile and fruitful once again and ever after.

Sabado, Mayo 6, 2017

TALE OF INDALUS PART III

http://www.gutenberg.org/files/27114/27114-h/27114-h.html

HE CIVIL WARS FOLLOWING THE DEATH OF CÆSAR.—ANTONIUS.—AUGUSTUS.

http://www.gutenberg.org/files/27114/27114-h/27114-h.html#toc89

The most powerful men in Rome at this time, were Marcus Antonius, the most able of Cæsar's lieutenants, the most constant of his friends, and the nearest of his relatives, although a man utterly unprincipled; Octavius, grandson of Julius, whom Cæsar adopted as his heir, a young man of nineteen; Lepidus, colleague consul with Cæsar, the head of the ancient family of the Lepidi, thirteen of whom had been honored with curule magistracies; Sextus Pompeius, son of Pompey; Brutus and Cassius, chief conspirators; Dolabella, a man of consular rank, and one of the profligate nobles of his time; Hirtia and Pansa, consuls; Piso, father-in-law of Cæsar, of a powerful family, which boasted of several consuls; and Cicero—still influential from his great weight of character. All these men were great nobles, and had filled the highest offices.

Antonius takes the lead at Rome.

The man who, to all appearance, had the fairest chance for supreme command in those troubled times, was Antony, whose mother was Julia, Cæsar's sister. He was grandson to the great orator M. Antonius, who flourished during the [pg 547] civil wars between Marius and Sulla, and was distinguished for every vice, folly, and extravagance which characterized the Roman nobles. But he was a man of consummate ability as a general, was master of the horse, and was consul with Cæsar, when he was killed, B.C. 44. He was also eloquent, and pronounced the funeral oration of the murdered Imperator, as nearest of kin. He had possession of Cæsar's papers, and was the governor of Cisalpine Gaul. He formed a union with Lepidus, to whom he offered the office of Pontifex Maximus, the second office in the State. As consul, he could unlock the public treasury, which he rifled to the extent of seven hundred million of sesterces—the vast sum left by Cæsar. One of his brothers was prætor, and another, a tribune. He convened the Senate, and employed, by the treasure he had at command, the people to overawe the Senate, as the Jacobin clubs of the French revolution overawed the Assembly. He urged the Senate to ratify Cæsar's acts and confirm his appointments, and in this was supported by Cicero and a majority of the members. Now that the deed was done, he wished to have the past forgotten. This act of amnesty confirmed his fearful pre-eminence, and the inheritance of the mighty dead seemingly devolved upon him. The conspirators came to terms with him, and were even entertained by him, and received the provinces which he assigned to them. Brutus received Macedonia; Cassius, Syria; Trebonius, Asia; Cimber, Bythinia; and Decimus, Cisalpine Gaul. Dolabella was his colleague in the consulship,—a personal enemy, yet committed to his policy.

Cæsar had left three hundred sesterces to every citizen, (about £3,) and his gardens beyond the Tiber to the use of the people. Such gifts operated in producing an intense gratitude for the memory of a man who had proved so great a benefactor, and his public funeral was of unprecedented splendor. Antony, as his nearest heir, and the first magistrate, pronounced the oration, which was a consummate piece of dramatic art, in which he inflamed the passions of the [pg 548] people, and stimulated them to frenzy, so that they turned upon the assassins with fury. But he assured the Senate of his moderation, abolished the dictatorship forever, and secured his own personal safety by a body-guard.

Octavius.

He had, however, a powerful rival in the young Octavius, who had been declared by Cæsar's will his principal heir, then absent in Apollonia. He resolved to return at once and claim his inheritance, and was warmly received at Brundusium by the veteran troops, and especially by Cicero, who saw in him a rival to Antony. Octavius flattered the old orator, and ingratiated himself in the favor of everybody by his unassuming manners, and his specious language. He entered Rome under favorable omens, paid his court to the senators, and promised to fulfill his uncle's requests. He was received by Antony in the gardens of Pompeius, and claimed at once his inheritance. Antony replied that it was not private property but the public treasure, and was, moreover, spent. Octavius was not to be put off, and boldly declared that he would and could pay the legacies, and contrived to borrow the money. Such an act secured unrivaled popularity. He gave magnificent shows, and then claimed that the jeweled crown of Cæsar should be exhibited on the festival which he instituted to Venus, and to whose honor Cæsar had vowed to build a temple, on the morning of his victory at Pharsalia. The tribunes, instigated by Antonius, refused to sanction this mark of honor, but fortune favored Octavius, and, in the enthusiasm of the festival, which lasted eleven days, the month Quintilius was changed to Julius—the first demigod whom the Senate had translated to Olympus.

Brutus and Cassius.

Meanwhile Brutus and Cassius retired from public affairs, lingering in the neighborhood of Rome, and the provinces promised to them were lost. At Antium they had an interview with Cicero, who advised them to keep quiet, and not venture to the capital, where the people were inflamed against them. Their only encouragement was the successes of Sextus Pompeius in Spain, who had six [pg 549] legions at his command. Cicero foresaw that another civil war was at hand, and had the gloomiest forebodings, for one or the other of the two great chieftains of the partisans of Cæsar was sure of ultimately obtaining the supreme power. The humiliating conviction that the murder of Cæsar was a mistake, was now deeply impressed upon his mind, since it would necessarily inaugurate another bloody war. Self banished from Rome, this great and true patriot wandered from place to place to divert his mind. But neither the fascinations of literature, nor the attractions of Tusculum, Puteoli, Pompeii, and Neapolis, where he had luxurious villas, could soothe his anxious and troubled soul. Religious, old, and experienced, he could only ponder on the coming and final prostration of that cause of constitutional liberty to which he was devoted.

Cicero.

Antonius, also aware of the struggle which was impending, sought to obtain the government of Cisalpine Gaul, and of the six legions destined for the Parthian war. But he was baffled by the Senate, and by the intrigues of Octavius, who sheltered himself behind the august name of the man by whom he had been adopted. He therefore made a hollow reconciliation with Octavius, and by his means, obtained the Gaulish provinces. Cicero, now only desirous to die honorably, returned to Rome to accept whatever fate was in store for him, and defend to the last his broken cause. It was then, in the Senate, that he launched forth those indignant philippies against Antonius, as a public enemy, which are among his greatest efforts, and which most triumphantly attest his moral courage.

The hollow reconciliation between Antonius and Octavius was not of long duration, and the former, as consul, repaired to Brundusium to assume command of the legions stationed there, and Octavius collected his forces in Campania. Both parties complained of each other, and both invoked the name of Cæsar. Cicero detested the one, and was blinded as to the other.

Prospects of civil war. Situation of Roman affairs. The triumvirate of Antonius, Octavius and Lepidus. They proscribe their enemies.

The term of office as consul, which Antonius held, had now [pg 550] expired, and Hirtius, one of the new consuls, marched into Cisalpine Gaul, and Octavius placed himself under his command. The Senate declared a state of public danger. The philippics of Cicero had taken effect, and the Senate and the government were now opposed to Antonius, as the creator of a new revolution. The consuls crossed swords with Antonius at Forum Gallorum, and the consul Pansa fell, but success was with the government. Another success at Mutina favored the government party, which Octavius had joined. On the news of this victory, Cicero delivered his fourteenth and last philippic against Antonius, who now withdrew from Cisalpine Gaul, and formed a junction with Lepidus beyond the Alps. Octavius declined to pursue him, and Plancus hesitated to attack him, although joined by Decimus, one of the murderers of Cæsar, with ten legions. Octavius now held aloof from the government army, from which it was obvious that he had ambitious views of his own to further, and was denounced by Plancus to Cicero. The veteran statesman, at last, perceived that Octavius, having deserted Decimus (who, of all the generals, was the only one on whose fidelity the State could securely lean), was not to be further relied upon, and cast his eyes to Macedonia and Syria, to which provinces Brutus and Cassius had retired. The Senate, too, now distrusted Octavius, and treated him with contumely; but supported by veteran soldiers, he demanded the consulship, and even secretly corresponded with Antonius, and assured him of his readiness to combine with him and Lepidus, and invited them to follow him to Rome. He marched at the head of eight legions, pretending all the while to be coerced by them. The Senate, overawed, allowed him, at twenty years of age, to assume the consulship, with Pedius, grand-nephew of Cæsar, for his colleague. Since Hirtius and Pansa had both fallen, Octavius, then leaving the city in the hands of a zealous colleague, opened negotiations with Antonius and Lepidus, perceiving that it was only in conjunction with them that his usurpation could be maintained. They met [pg 551] for negotiations at Bononia, and agreed to share the empire between them. They declared themselves triumvirs for the settlement of the commonwealth, and after a conference of three days, divided between themselves the provinces and legions. They then concerted a general proscription of their enemies. The number whom they thus doomed to destruction was three hundred senators and two thousand knights, from the noblest families of Rome, among whom were brothers, uncles, and favorite officers. The possession of riches was fatal to some, and of beautiful villas to others. Cicero was among this number, as was to be expected, for he had exhausted the Latin language in vituperations of Antonius, whom he hated beyond all other mortals, and which hatred was itself a passion. He spoke of Cæsar with awe, of Pompey with mortification, of Crassus with dislike, and of Antony with bitter detestation and unsparing malice. It was impossible that he could escape, even had he fled to the ends of the earth. The vacillation of his last hours, his deep distress, and mournful agonies are painted by Plutarch. He fell a martyr to the cause of truth, and public virtue, and exalted patriotism, although his life was sullied by weakness and infirmities, such as vanity, ambition, and jealousy. In the dark and wicked period which he adorned by his transcendent talents and matchless services, he lived and died in faith—the most amiable and the most noble of all his contemporaries.

The triumvirs had now gratified their vengeance by a series of murders never surpassed in the worst ages of religious and political fanaticism. And all these horrible crimes were perpetrated in the name of that great and august character who had won the world by his sword. The prestige of that mighty name sanctioned their atrocities and upheld their power. Cæsar still lived, although assassinated, and the triumvirs reigned as his heirs or avengers, even as Louis Napoleon grasped the sceptre of his uncle, not from any services he had rendered, but as the heir of his conquests. [pg 552] The Romans loved Cæsar as the French loved Napoleon, and submitted to the rule of the triumvirs, as the French submitted to the usurpations of the proscribed prisoner of Ham. And in the anarchy which succeeded the assassination of the greatest man of antiquity, it must need be that the strongest would seize the reins, since all liberty and exalted patriotism had fled.

Cassius and Brutus rally the aristocracy. Battle of Philippi.

But these usurpers did not secure their power without one more last struggle of the decimated and ruined aristocracy. They rallied under the standards of Brutus and Cassius in Macedonia and Syria. The one was at the head of eight legions, and the other of eleven, a still formidable force. Sextus Pompeius also still lived, and had intrenched himself in Sicily. A battle had still to be fought before the republic gave its last sigh. Cicero ought to have joined these forces, and might have done so, but for his vacillation. So Lepidus, as consul, took control of Rome and the interests of Italy, while Antonius marched against Brutus and Cassius in the East, and Octavius assailed Sextus in Sicily; unable, however, to attack him without ships, he joined his confederate. Their united forces were concentrated in Philippi, in Thrace, and there was fought the last decisive battle between the republicans, if the senatorial and aristocratic party under Brutus and Cassius can be called republicans, and the liberators, as they called themselves, or the adherents of Cæsar. The republicans had a force of eighty thousand infantry and twenty thousand cavalry, while the triumvirs commanded a still superior force. The numbers engaged in this great conflict exceeded all former experience, and the battle of Philippi was the most memorable in Roman annals, since all the available forces of the empire were now arrayed against each other. The question at issue was, whether power should remain with the old constitutional party, or with the party of usurpation which Cæsar had headed and led to victory. It was whether Rome should be governed by the old forms, or by an imperator with absolute authority. [pg 553] The forces arrayed on that fatal battle-field—the last conflict for liberty ever fought at Rome—were three times as great as fought at Pharsalia. On that memorable battle-field the republic perished. The battle was fairly and bravely fought on both sides, but victory inclined to the Cæsarians, in two distinct actions, after an interval of twenty days, B.C. 42. Both Cassius and Brutus fell on their own swords, and their self-destruction, in utter despair of their cause, effectually broke up their party.

Roman liberty extinguished.

The empire was now in the hands of the triumvirs. The last contest was decisive. Future struggles were worse than useless. Destiny had proclaimed the extinction of Roman liberties for ever. It was vice and faction which had prepared the way for violence, and the last appeal to the sword had settled the fate of the empire, henceforth to be governed by a despot.

But there being now three despots among the partisans of Cæsar, who sought to grasp his sceptre, Which should prevail? Antonius was the greatest general; Octavius was the greatest man; Lepidus was the tool of both. The real rivalry was between Octavius and Antonius. But they did not at once quarrel. Antonius undertook the subjugation of the eastern provinces, and Octavius repaired to Rome. The former sought, before the great encounter with his rival, to gain military éclat from new victories; the latter to control factions and parties in the capital. They first got rid of Lepidus, now that their more powerful enemies were subdued, and compelled him to surrender the command in Italy and content himself with the government of Africa. Antonius, commanding no less than twenty-eight legions, which, with auxiliaries, numbered one hundred and seventy thousand, had perhaps the best chance. His exactions were awful; but he squandered his treasures, and gave vent to his passions.

Cleopatra and Antonius. War between Octavius and Sextus.

The real cause of his overthrow was Cleopatra, for had he not been led aside by his inordinate passion for this woman, and had he exercised his vast power with the wisdom and ability which he had previously shown, [pg 554] the most able of all of Cæsar's generals, he probably would have triumphed over every foe. On his passage through Cilicia, he was met by Cleopatra, in all the pomp and luxury of an Oriental sovereign. She came to deprecate his wrath, ostensibly, and ascended the Cydnus in a bark with gilded stern and purple sails, rowed with silver oars, to the sound of pipes and flutes. She reclined, the most voluptuous of ancient beauties, under a spangled canopy, attended by Graces and Cupids, while the air was scented with the perfumes of Olympus. She soon fascinated the most powerful man in the empire, who, forgetting his ambition, resigned himself to love. Octavius, master of himself, and of Italy, confiscated lands for the benefit of the soldiership prepared for future contingencies. Though Antonius married Octavia, the sister of Octavius, he was full of intrigues against him and Octavius, on his part, proved more than a match in duplicity and concealed hostilities. They, however, pretended to be friends; and the treaty of Brundusium, celebrated by Virgil, would seem to indicate that the world was now to enjoy the peace it craved. After a debauch, Antonius left Rome for the East, and Octavius for Gaul, each with a view of military conquests. Antonius, with his new wife, had seemingly forgotten Cleopatra, and devoted himself to the duties of the camp with an assiduity worthy of Cæsar himself. Octavius has a naval conflict with Sextus, and is defeated, but Sextus fails to profit from his victory, and Octavius, with the help of his able lieutenants, and re-enforced by Antonius, again attacks Sextus, and is again defeated. In a third conflict he is victorious, and Sextus escapes to the East. Lepidus, ousted and cheated by both Antonius and Octavius, now combines with Sextus and the Pompeians, and makes head against Octavius; but is deserted by his soldiers, and falls into the hands of his enemy, who spares his life in contempt. He had owed his elevation to his family influence, and not to his own abilities. Sextus, at last, was taken and slain.

At this juncture Octavius was at the head of the Cæsarian [pg 555] party. He had won the respect and friendship of the Romans by his clemency and munificence. He was not a great general, but he was served by a great general, Agrippa, and by another minister of equal talents, Mecrenas. He controlled even more forces than Antonius, no less than forty-five legions of infantry, and twenty-five thousand cavalry, and thirty-seven thousand light-armed auxiliaries. Antonius, on the other hand, had forfeited the esteem of the Romans by his prodigalities, by his Oriental affectations, and by his slavery to Cleopatra.

This artful and accomplished woman again met Antonius in Asia, and resumed her sway. The general of one hundred battles became effeminated by his voluptuous dalliance, so that his Parthian campaign was a failure, even though he led an army of one hundred thousand men. He was obliged to retreat, and his retreat was disastrous. It was while he was planning another campaign that Octavia, his wife, and the sister of his rival,—a woman who held the most dignified situation in the world,—brought to his camp both money and troops, and hoped to allay the jealousies of her husband, and secure peace between him and her brother. But Antonius heartlessly refused to see this noble-minded woman, while he gave provinces to Cleopatra. At Alexandria this abandoned profligate plunged, with his paramour, into every excess of extravagant debauchery, while she who enslaved him only dreamed of empire and domination. She may have loved him, but she loved power more than she did debauchery. Her intellectual accomplishments were equal to her personal fascinations, and while she beguiled the sensual Roman with costly banquets, her eye was steadily directed to the establishment of her Egyptian throne.

The rupture which Octavia sought to prevent between her brother and her husband—for, with the rarest magnanimity she still adhered to him in spite of his infatuated love for Cleopatra—at last took place, when Octavius was triumphant over Sextus, and Antonius was unsuccessful in the distant East. Octavius declared war against the queen of Egypt, [pg 556] and Antonius divorced Octavia. Throughout the winter of B.C. 31, both parties prepared for the inevitable conflict, for Rome now could have but one master. The fate of the empire was to be settled, not by land forces, but a naval battle, and that was fought at Actium, not now with equal forces, for those of Antonius had been weakened by desertions. Moreover, he rejected the advice of his ablest generals, and put himself under the guidance of his mistress, while Octavius listened to the counsels of Agrippa.

The battle had scarcely begun before Cleopatra fled, followed by Antonius. The destruction of the Antonian fleet was the consequence. This battle, B.C. 31, gave the empire of the world to Octavius, and Antonius fled to Alexandria with the woman who had ruined him. And it was well that the empire fell into the hands of a politic and profound statesman, who sought to consolidate it and preserve its peace, rather than into those of a debauched general, with insatiable passions and blood-thirsty vengeance. The victor landed in Egypt, while the lovers abandoned themselves to despair. Antonius, on the rumor of Cleopatra's death, gave himself a mortal wound, but died in the arms of her for whom he had sacrificed fame, fortune, and life. Cleopatra, in the interview which Octavius sought at Alexandria, attempted to fascinate him by those arts by which she had led astray both Cæsar and Antonius, but the cold and politic conqueror was unmoved, and coldly demanded the justification of her political career, and reserved her to grace his future triumph. She eluded his vigilance, and destroyed herself, as is supposed, by the bite of asps, since her dead body showed none of the ordinary spots of poison. She died, B.C. 30, in the fortieth year of her age, and was buried as a queen by the side of her lover. Her son Cæsarion, by Julius Cæsar, was also put to death, and then the master of the world “wiped his blood-stained sword, and thrust it into the scabbard.” No more victims were needed. No rivalship was henceforth to be dreaded, and all opposition to his will had ceased.

Octavius reduced Egypt to the form of a Roman province, [pg 557] and after adjusting the affairs of the East, among which was the confirmation of Herod as sovereign of Judea, he returned to Rome to receive his new honors, and secure his undivided sovereignty. Peace was given to the world at last. The imperator dedicated temples to the gods, and gave games and spectacles to the people. The riches of all previous conquests were his to dispose and enjoy—the extent of which may be conjectured from the fact that Cæsar alone had seized an amount equal to one hundred and seventy million pounds, not reckoning the relative value to gold in these times. Divine honors were rendered to Octavius as the heir of Cæsar. He assumed the prænomen of imperator, but combined in himself all the great offices of the republic which had been overturned. As censor, he purged and controlled the Senate, of which he was appointed princeps, or chief. As consul he had the control of the armies of the State; as perpetual proconsul over all the provinces of the empire, he controlled their revenues, their laws, their internal reforms, and all foreign relations. As tribune for life, he initiated legal measures before the Comitia of the tribes; as Pontifex Maximus, he had the regulation of all religious ceremonials. All these great offices were voted him by a subservient people. The only prerogative which remained to them was the making of laws, but even this great and supreme power he controlled, by assuming the initiation of all laws and measures,—that which Louis Napoleon has claimed in the Corps Legislatif. He had also resorted to edicts, which had the force of laws, and ultimately composed no small part of the Roman jurisprudence. Finally, he assumed the name of Cæsar, as he had of Augustus, and consummated the reality of despotism by the imposing title of imperator, or emperor.

Biyernes, Mayo 5, 2017

queen of sheba

http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/ancient/cultures/sheba_01.shtml

Miyerkules, Mayo 3, 2017

PHILS DURING SPAIN

http://www.gutenberg.org/files/13616/13616-h/13616-h.htm