Την δε μετ' Ἀλκμηνην ἸΔΟΝ——
Και Μεγαρην (sc. ΙΔΟΝ) κρειοντος ὑπερθυμοιο θυγατρα
Την εχεν Αμφιτρυωνος ὑιος.——
[31] Bayle is mistaken in supposing that the marriage of Lorenzo took place in 1471. Speaking of Machiavelli, he says, Il ne marque pas l'année de ce mariage, ce qui est un grand défaut dans un écrivain d'histoire; mais on peut recueillir de sa narration que ce fut l'an 1471. Dict. Hist. art. Politien. In correcting Bayle, Menckenius falls into a greater error, and places this event in 1472. Menk. in vitâ Pol. p. 48.
[32] 'How grateful to our sensations, how distinct to our imagination appear the
"Speluncæ, vivique lacus, ac frigida Tempe,
Mugitusque boûm, mollesque sub arbore somni."'
[33] 'Published for the first time at the close of the present work.'
[34] If Virgil has given us a highly-finished personification of Rumour, if Horace speaks of his atra Cura, if Lucretius present us with an awful picture of Superstition, their portraits are so vague as scarcely to communicate any discriminate idea, and are characterized by their operation and effects, rather than by their poetical insignia. Of the ancient Roman authors, perhaps there is no one that abounds in these personifications more than the tragedian Seneca; yet what idea do we form of Labour, when we are told that
"Labor exoritur durus, et omnes
Agitat curas, aperitque domos:"
"Turbine magni, spes solicitæ
Urbibus errant, trepidique metus."
[35] 'It is commonly understood that the idea of a systematic arrangement, for securing to states, within the same sphere of political action, the possession of their respective territories, and the continuance of existing rights, is of modern origin, having arisen among the Italian States, in the fifteenth century. Robertson's Hist. of Ch. V. v. i. sec. 2.—But Mr. Hume has attempted to shew that this system, if not theoretically understood, was at least practically adopted by the ancient states of Greece, and the neighbouring governments. Essays, v. 1. part 2. Essay 7.—In adjusting the extent to which these opinions may be adopted, there is no great difficulty. Wherever mankind have formed themselves into societies, (and history affords no instance of their being found in any other,) the conduct of a tribe, or a nation, has been marked by a general will: and states, like individuals, have had their antipathies and predilections, their jealousies, and their fears. The powerful have endeavoured to oppress the weak, and the weak have sought refuge from the powerful, in their mutual union. Notwithstanding the great degree of civilization that obtained among the Grecian States, their political conduct seems to have been directed upon no higher principle: conquests were pursued as opportunity offered, and precautions for safety were delayed till the hour of danger arrived. The preponderating mass of the Roman Republic attracted into it's vortex whatever was opposed to it's influence: and the violent commotions of the middle ages, by which that immense body was again broken into new forms, and impelled in vague and eccentric directions, postponed to a late period the possibility of regulated action. The transactions in Italy, during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, bear indeed a strong resemblance to those which took place among the Grecian States: but it was not till nearly the close of the latter century that a system of general security and pacification was clearly developed, and precautions taken for insuring its continuance. Simple as this idea may now appear, yet it must be considered, that, before the adoption of it, the minds of men, and consequently the maxims of states, must have undergone an important change: views of aggrandizement were to be repressed; war was to be prosecuted, not for the purpose of conquest, but of security; and, above all, an eye was to be found that could discern, and a mind that could comprehend, so extended an object.'
[36] 'Objects of horror and disgust, the cold detail of deliberate barbarity, can never be proper subjects of art, because they exclude the efforts of genius. Even the powers of Shakspeare are annihilated in the butcheries of Titus Andronicus. Yet the reputation of some of the most celebrated Italian painters has been principally founded on this kind of representation. "Ici," says M. Tenhove, "c'est S. Etienne qu'on lapide, et dont je crains que la cervelle ne rejaillisse sur moi; plus loin, c'est S. Barthélémi tout sanglant, tout écorché; je compte ses muscles et ses nerfs. Vingt fleches ont criblé Sebastien. L'horrible tête du Baptiste est dans ce plat. Le gril de S. Laurent sert de pendant à la chaudière de S. Jean. Je recule d'horreur."—Mem. Gen. lib. x. May it not be doubted whether spectacles of this kind, so frequent in places devoted to religious purposes, may not have had a tendency rather to keep alive a spirit of ferocity and resentment, than to inculcate those mild and benevolent principles in which the essence of religion consists?'