Part 13

LVII. The worst is, that by following the advice of Theodotus, you will furnish Cæsar with a specious pretence for usurping your kingdom; and therefore I say, that so far from avoiding the danger of losing it, by adopting his plan, you would increase the risk. That Cæsar is very sagacious and penetrating, is well known to all the world; and although he might be glad to hear that Pompey was put to death; after the deed was executed, he would affect to lament it. He, in appearance at least, would detest the treachery of receiving Pompey into Egypt, under a promise of security upon the royal word, for the purpose of taking away his life. From this equivocal or critical state of Cæsar’s mind, there might be but a short transition to his taking the resolution of depriving you of your crown, and perhaps your life also. He might do it for the sake of gratifying his ambition, and endeavouring to persuade the world, that he was actuated by no other motive than that of punishing the treacherous murderer of Pompey; and although he might foresee, the Romans would never believe that this was his motive; he well knows they would applaud the action, as they idolized Pompey while living, and will adore his memory when dead. Other nations, who on account of their being less penetrating, may not see into the artful policy of Cæsar, will only contemplate in your ruin, a punishment correspondent to your crime, and will admire the heroic justice of Cæsar, who chastised the wicked act, although the commission of it was never so convenient to him. Consider, sir, whether Cæsar will lose so fine an opportunity of flattering the Roman people, of recommending himself to the world for a just man, and of adding to the Imperial crown he is fabricating, the precious gem of this kingdom.

LIX. We know that Cæsar, in all his actions and designs, has proposed to himself Alexander of Macedon as the only example he would wish to imitate. We are informed, that having in a temple of Spain, seen a statue of that hero, it raised in his imagination a contemplation of his glory, and caused him to shed tears of envy. Attend now, sir, to what I am about to say to you. Immediately after Darius was defeated by Alexander in the battle of Arbela, that unhappy king, who was become a fugitive from the conqueror, was treacherously murdered by Bessus the governor of Bactria, who thought by putting him to death, that he should gain the favour of Alexander. But what followed? Why, that Alexander caused him to be arrested, and torn to pieces by his own immediate order as some tell us, or as others say, delivered him to Oxathres the brother of Darius, to be dealt with as he thought proper. Consider, sir, how great an affinity there is between the battles of Arbela and Pharsalia, between the fortunes of Pompey and Darius, and between the genius and tempers of Cæsar and Alexander. How much is it to be dreaded, that if you act by Pompey, as Bessus did by Darius, that Cæsar will do by you, as Alexander did by Bessus? He will find himself precisely in the same circumstances of Alexander, and will, without doubt, be strangely flattered with the idea of imitating him, and especially in an action, which he knows was applauded by all the world. We find ourselves also in the city of Alexandria, which was founded by, and took its name from, Alexander; and even this circumstance, may contribute to augment your danger, because, if ever he should think fit to visit this city, it would revive in his imagination the idea of its founder.

LX. I very well know, that although Cæsar should be the man we have hitherto supposed him, still the protection of Pompey is not free from danger. The Roman legions, in search of this illustrious fugitive, will naturally present themselves to our imagination, destroying with warlike fury, the country that harbours him. But if, in whatever course we pursue, we must unavoidably encounter rocks and quicksands, what does human prudence dictate in such a case? that we should do what’s right and just, and leave the event to the disposal of the gods. It is beyond a doubt, that the power of Cæsar is great; but his fortune is no less dependant on heaven than ours, and the ray of Jupiter pays no more respect to the proud palace, than to the humble cabin. Thus those to whom heaven is most propitious, are likely to be most successful.

LXI. Nor need we depend solely for our security on the special providence of the gods, as we have resources in the ordinary course of human events, and in the common influence of second causes. Cæsar is yet at a great distance, and as he will have much to settle both in Italy and Greece, in order to secure the fruits of his late victory, it will be probably some time before he will find himself at leisure to visit Egypt. During that interval, we may be employed in modeling and disciplining our troops; they are not few in number, and we may add new recruits to them; and to make the Egyptian troops equal to the best in the world, nothing more is necessary, than that they should be properly trained, and be commanded by a good general; because when we had such a one in the person of our famous Sesostris, they conquered and triumphed over the principal regions of Asia, as the ruins of the columns that prince erected, and which time has thrown down, testify. Nobody disputes Pompey’s being, if not the greatest soldier in the world, at least equal to the greatest. His victories have acquired him the epithet of great, which is a title Cæsar never attained. We have then in him, the general we want; nor ought his reputation to be lessened by the victory Cæsar lately obtained over him; for besides his commanding a motley army, collected from, and composed of various nations, he was but little or ill obeyed in that war; and this is an evil, for which we have a remedy in our own power, by committing the whole military government to the discretion and direction of Pompey. If he finds himself not in a condition or situation to attack with a prospect of victory, he will stand on the defensive, and preserve his troops, which is the conduct he wished to have pursued in Greece. We may also hope for many advantages from time; as in the interval of our recess, succours may arrive to Pompey from all the world; for the whole Roman empire, except the troops immediately in his pay, are enemies to Cæsar; and although we should not be able to assemble an army, capable of resisting Cæsar, his success will not be quite certain. The whole Roman republic which commands the world, groans with affliction, under the intolerable sensation, occasioned by the suppression of their liberty; and it would be very extraordinary, if among the millions of people of which it is composed, there should not be found some one desperate enough, to sacrifice his own life, for the sake of redeeming his country. Every man who arrives at despising, or setting no value on his own life, may have that of Cæsar in his power; for one concealed poignard, or one disguised dose of poison administered at his table, would be more dangerous and fatal to him, than fifty thousand lances in the open field. The instances of Romans, who have offered themselves voluntary victims to the idol of fame, or the good of their country, are numerous; and perhaps Cæsar at this time, has some one near his person, waiting for an opportunity to repeat the same sacrifice.

LXII. There remains to us also another crutch of hope whereon to rest, that is, the unwholesomeness of our climate. The air of Ægypt, which is very unsalutary to the natives, is much more so to strangers. The soldiers of Cæsar were born under, and have served in climates, which were very different from ours. How natural then is it to suppose, that by being detained some time in this country, the visitation of an epidemical disorder may either demolish or incapacitate them!

LXIII. If by all, or any of these means, which are very probable ones, you should be enabled to protect and preserve Pompey, you would make yourself, sir, the most glorious prince in the world. The Romans would adore you, as the vindicator and defender of their liberty, and would look upon this kingdom, as the only temple which has afforded sanctuary to, and preserved their idol. Other nations will applaud your generous gratitude, and seeing how faithfully you have behaved to your benefactor, there is no prince whatever, who will not be ready and desirous to render you his services. What you may expect from Pompey, is not in my power to express, nor in my imagination to conceive.

LXIV. But admitting, sir, that these well founded hopes should be frustrated, and that heaven should continue to prosper the arms of Cæsar, that Fortune should regulate the motions of its inconstant wheel, so as that it shall always turn in his favour; that we should see the Roman legions batter down the walls of Alexandria, and afterwards be witnesses to the demolition of those of Memphis, and behold all the other cities of Lower Ægypt in danger of being destroyed; and that in consequence of this, we find ourselves under an absolute necessity of capitulating with Cæsar; which is the greatest difficulty and distress, to which we can be driven by Fortune; but please to observe, sir, that although you should be reduced to this necessity, you would even then find your affairs in a better state, than there is any probability of your finding them, provided you follow the advice that has been given you by Theodotus. Cæsar would require you to deliver up Pompey, and it is most likely would offer you in return, the restitution of all he has conquered; for the whole country that is inundated by the Nile, would be of but little value to him, compared to the possession of a person, who by a thousand accidents, might have it in his power to overturn his whole empire. You might then make this exchange, and remain master of your kingdom, and might justify yourself to all the world, by pleading the hard law of necessity as an excuse for what you did. But what infatuation, what madness would it be, sir, for you to persuade yourself, that it would be right at this time to put Pompey treacherously to death, without more advantage to yourself, than what you might obtain hereafter, by delivering him up without infamy? I have said without more advantage, and I ought to add to it with greater danger. If you commit so base an action, it is probable that Cæsar, either from motives of virtue, or excited to it by hypocrisy, will punish you severely. If you think him generous, you must conclude that he will be extremely irritated against you, both for your cruelty, and your ingratitude, and because you offered him a provoking indignity, by supposing him capable of accepting a treachery for a compliment; and because also, you deprived him of a precious opportunity, of manifesting his clemency to Pompey in distress. If you consider him only as an ambitious and profound politician, you may suppose he will act the same part from motives of dissimulation, that he would have acted from motives of generosity, and to gain credit with the world, would treat you as a delinquent. You will have none of this to apprehend, when, forced to it by necessity, you find yourself obliged to deliver up Pompey, because in this last case, the reasons for treating you in the manner we have just been describing will not exist, and because also it was never known, that Cæsar failed to preserve the faith of his engagements, or that he treated with cruelty, those he had vanquished.

LXV. Nor should we omit, that Cæsar’s good opinion of your personal conduct to Pompey, may co-operate with his virtue, and have an influence on his policy. Cæsar is not ignorant, that you have always been well affected to Pompey and his cause, and when Cæsar finds Pompey has perished by your hands, he will readily conclude, that you would have dealt the same treatment to him, and with a better will, provided the victor had been the vanquished. Consider now, what sort of an opinion Cæsar must entertain of you, when he reflects, that your not committing the same treachery by him, is owing to his fortune, and not your good-will, but that in spite of your malevolent disposition, his fortune has insured his safety.

LXVI. The arguments, sir, with which I have proved, that without attending to the justice of the case, it was more for your interest to protect than to destroy Pompey, will serve to prove, that it will be more beneficial to you to entertain him than to send him away. The sending him away, will not oblige Cæsar, but will offend Pompey, and will also make you appear ungrateful in the eyes of the whole world. Pompey driven from this coast, will become a wanderer by sea and by land, in search of some safe hole or corner, wherein to hide himself, till the desperation of one, or the conspiracy of many, shall deprive Cæsar of his life; and in all probability, it will not be long, before this contingent happens. If this event should fall out, Pompey would then be master in much greater security than he ever was, of all that Cæsar at present enjoys. Consider now, if this should ever be the case, what you would have reason to expect from his hands for driving him out of your kingdom, after he had fixed the crown on the head of your father. Cæsar while he rules, as he is not ignorant that you are disaffected to him, will always consider you as an enemy, who only wants power or resolution to act openly as such. The service of your abandoning Pompey, will not oblige him, and will debase you, for he cannot fail to see clearly, that you did it through fear. His dislike to you will continue, and you will add to it, his contempt and disesteem.

LXVII. Further, if you receive and entertain Pompey benignly, you may in consequence of doing it, give yourself credit to a certain amount, for having both Pompey and Cæsar in some degree under your influence, Pompey, in virtue of having him within your dominions; and Cæsar, because he would be disposed to grant you very advantageous conditions, to prevail on you to deliver Pompey up. But I would not have it understood, that I mean to recommend this, as what you ought to do; for my opinion is, that you should absolutely risk every thing to preserve Pompey, because you owe every thing to him. This is what true virtue dictates; but the predicament we are in at present, is that of consulting and considering, the reasons of state and policy for receiving Pompey with a determination of defending him, and at the same time not to extend that defence so far as to endanger the loss of your kingdom. It is true, this would not be doing enough to entitle you to the applause of the world as a generous man; but it would be sufficient to prevent your being condemned as an unjust one. You would save your honour, and not neglect your interest; and the judgment of heaven, with respect to such a conduct, would coincide with that of the world. Pompey would find himself under great obligations to you: Cæsar might perhaps be irritated against you; but the emotions of his anger, would soon give way to his own convenience, and even to yours. If the gods, as they are able to do, should prosper our arms under the command of Pompey, all the world will respect your person, your virtue, and your power; and in spite of all Cæsar can do, after you have sustained the losses enumerated, which will be sufficient to excuse your conduct in the eye of the world, you will at last, by delivering up Pompey, be able to repair all your damage.

LXVIII. This speech appeared to me proper to introduce here, not only for the entertainment of the reader, but for his benefit and caution also; for having in this discourse set forth so many maxims and examples of tyrannic policy, I was apprehensive, that some people of weak understandings, might persuade themselves, it would be convenient and useful to practise them, if I did not at the same time, together with the poison, administer the antidote, and shew by such an example, that the violent expedients which Machiavelianism proposes as convenient, are in general hurtful and pernicious, or at least insecure and not to be relied on, and that in the very cases in which they are represented to be necessary, there are others that might be hit upon, which would answer the purpose much better, and which would admit of reconciling the useful with the honest, provided there is an upright will to adopt them, and a clear understanding to search out and apply them; so that what they call refined policy, is nothing more than a political dross or scum, and the production of gross geniuses, who do not search deeper than the superficies of things. The Machiavelians, seldom attend to more than the immediate effect of the blow their malice meditates, without reflecting, that the political machine is many times disposed to move in such a variety of directions, that it often runs back on, and crushes him who first set it in motion. I have said before, and I repeat it again, that the instances of perverse politicians who have been happy for any length of time, are very few, and that those few, have seldom been blessed with more than a transient ray of the splendor of fortune; and have been almost all shipwrecked by a sudden change of the wind, when they thought themselves sailing on with a favourable gale, and in the most prosperous manner. What infatuation then is it, to pursue a course, where all the rocks in the track of it, are stained with the blood of unhappy sufferers? Or who, with any reasonable expectation of success, can hope to make his fortune, by following and adopting the maxims of Machiavel, knowing the author of them lived poor and despised, and died miserable and abhorred? Perhaps this impious politician, may not improperly be compared to the unhappy Phlegyas described by Virgil, who was not undeceived, till his being convinced of the delusion he had been under could be of no service to him, and who with bitter expressions of lamentation, and in a hideous tone of voice, proclaimed the error of his detestable maxims, to the whole miserable group of the damned:

_--Phlegyasque miserrimus omnes_ _Admonet, & magna testatur voce per umbras:_ _Discite justitiam, moniti, & non temnere Divos._

AMBITION IN SOVEREIGNS.

SECT. I.

I. The most unjust adoration the world bestows, is that which is given to, and received by conquering Princes, they being only deserving of the public hatred; while living, mankind pay them a forced obedience, and when dead a courteous applause; the first is necessity, the second folly.

II. What is a conqueror but a scourge, which the divine anger has sent among us for our chastisement? What, but an animated pestilence, both to his own kingdom, and those of the Princes his neighbours also; a malignant star, which rules and influences nought but murders, robberies, desolations, and conflagrations; a comet, which equally threatens the destruction of cottages and of palaces; and, to sum up the whole, a man who is the enemy of all other men, because in the prosecution of his ambitious views, he would deprive all mankind of their liberty, and take from many their lives and fortunes?

III. In this, as in many other things, I admire the superior judgment of the Chinese. Isaac Vossius affirms, that in the annals of those people, they do not celebrate warlike, but pacific Princes; neither do they triumph in future ages, or acquire the applauses of posterity, who have by their arms added new dominions to the state, but those who have governed with justice and moderation the territories which descended to them by inheritance. This is applauding with judgment.

IV. I don’t deny, that valour, military skill, and other endowments peculiar to conquerors, are estimable; but only mean to inculcate, that when they are accompanied with a tyrannic use, they cause those who make such an application of them, to become objects of abhorrence and detestation. There never was any man eminent for feats of wickedness, who was not endued with great qualities of body and mind; at least, they are rarely deficient in those of robustness, industry, and bravery: but who, on this account, would employ himself in celebrating, or becoming the panegyrist of malefactors?

V. It is not comparison, but identity, which I mean to propound and enforce; for truly those great heroes, who are so celebrated by the trumpets of fame, were in reality nothing better than malefactors in a high form. If I was to set about writing a catalogue of the most famous rogues who have figured on the theatre of the world, I should place at the head of it, Alexander the Great, and Julius Cæsar.

VI. No one had a juster sense of his situation in this respect, nor made a more candid acknowledgment of his profession and occupation, than Antigonus King of Asia. When he was in the zenith of his conquests, a philosopher dedicated a book to him which he had just finished, the subject-matter of which was, an encomium on the virtue of justice. As soon as Antigonus read the title of the book, he smiled, and said, “It is certainly very _à propos_, to dedicate a treatise in commemoration of the virtue of justice to me, who am robbing all the world of every thing I can.”

VII. And although, neither Alexander, nor Cæsar, ever made so candid a confession, they manifested sufficiently, that they were stung with the remorse, and affected with the bitings of their own consciences. The first, shewed the influence these feelings had over him, in the instance of the temper and forbearance, with which he suffered the pirate who fell into his hands, to upbraid him with being a greater and more scandalous pirate than himself; for if Alexander had not been conscious that the man spoke truth, the consequence of his boldness would have been very terrible to him. The second displayed it, in his perplexities at the crisis of passing the Rubicon; it being most probable, that intrepid soul was not withheld so much by the contemplation of the dangerous undertaking he was going to engage in, as by the sense of the crime he was about to commit.

SECT. II.

VIII. In reality, conquering Princes are so totally bad, that they are not even good to themselves. They are bad neighbours, as is notorious; they are bad to their subjects, who in the end are equal sufferers with the others; because by the excessive contributions that are extorted from them, they are drained of their property, and in the obstinate wars in which their Princes engage, are deprived of their lives. It is true they conquer; but ten battles gained cost more men to a nation than two or three lost. If we were to add to this, the loss incurred in consequence of the neglect and decay of arts, manufactures, commerce, and agriculture; at winding up the bottom you will find, that with the exception of a few military men, who have been exceedingly fortunate and successful, or whose services have been liberally rewarded, and also with that of a few others, who have enriched themselves by plunder, or the spoils of their own country; the conquerors are left in as bad a situation as the vanquished.