The Prefect interrupted my extasy. I keep you too long (says he) upon this storm, by which the elementary spirits designed to represent allegorically the troublesome state of this world, and mankind’s stormy passage through the same: turn thy eyes, and behold what will feed thy curiosity and increase thy admiration.
CHAP. XVIII.
The Gallery or The Fortune of Mankind.
Scarce had the Prefect said these words; when a folding-door opened on our right, and let us into an immense Gallery, where my wonder was turned into amazement.
On each side, above two hundred windows let in the light to such a degree, that the eye could hardly bear its splendor. The spaces between them were painted with that art, I have just been describing. Out of each window, was seen some part of the territory of the elementary spirits. In each picture, appeared woods, fields, seas, nations, armies, whole regions; and all these objects were painted with such truth, that I was often forced to recollect myself, that I might not fall again into illusion. I could not tell, every moment, whether what I was viewing out of a window was not a painting, or what I was looking at in a picture was not a reality.
Survey with thy eyes (said the Prefect) survey the most remarkable events that have shaken the earth and decided the fate of men. Alass! what remains of all these powerful springs, of all these great exploits? the most real signs of them are the traces they have left upon our canvases in forming these pictures[[3]].
The most antient actions, whose lustre has preserved their memory, are the actions of violence. Nimrod, the mighty hunter, after having worried the wild beasts, attacks his fellow-creatures. See in the first picture that gigantic man, the first of those heroes so renowned; see in his looks pride, ambition, an ardent desire of rule. He framed the first scheme of a kingdom, and uniting men under the pretence of binding them together, he enslaved them.
Belus, Ninus, Semiramis ascend the throne, which they strengthen by fresh acts of violence! and of above thirty kings who successively reigned, only one closed the wounds of mankind, let Asia take breath, and governed like a philosopher: his name is almost forgot. History, which glows at the sight of renowned and tragical events, languishes over peaceable reigns: and scarce mentions such sovereigns.
Sardanapalus ends this series of kings. Enemy to noise, disorder and war, he mispends his time, shuts himself up in his palace, and sinks into effeminacy. The women, thou seest about him, neither think nor exist but for him. His looks give them life, and he receives life from theirs. What do I say? He seeks himself with astonishment and finds himself not; a surfeit of pleasures destroys his taste: he does not live, but languish.
In the mean time, two of his generals[[4]] loathing peace, form schemes of conquests, and feed, themselves with bloody projects. They deem themselves alone worthy to reign, because they alone breathe war in the midst of the publick tranquillity. See where they attack and dethrone their effeminate monarch: and forcing him to destroy himself, they seize and share his dominions. Thus the Assyrian empire was dismembered, after having kept Asia in continual alarms above twelve hundred years.
Kings succeeded both at Nineveh and at Babylon; and all became famous for wars and ravages[[5]]. One of them laid Egypt waste, plundered Palestine, burnt Jerusalem, put out the eyes of a king whose children he had murdered, drove from their country whole nations and put them in chains; and, after such expeditions, he ordered altars to be erected to him, and worship to be paid him as to a beneficent God. See at the foot of his image, incense burning and nations lying prostrate; and admire how far the pride and abjection of mortals extend[[6]].