Part 4 (1/2)

Gibbon proceeds to describe the extent, limits, and edifices of Constantinople Unfortunately the li more than a portion of his brilliant picture

”In the actual state of the city the palace and gardens of the Seraglio occupy the eastern promontory, the first of the seven hills, and cover about one hundred and fifty acres of our own measure The seat of Turkish jealousy and despotism is erected on the foundations of a Grecian republic: but it may be supposed that the Byzantines were tempted by the conveniency of the harbour to extend their habitations on that side beyond the lio The nealls of Constantine stretched froed breadth of the triangle, at the distance of fifteen stadia from the ancient fortifications: and with the city of Byzantium they inclosed five of the seven hills, which to the eyes of those who approach Constantinople appear to rise above each other in beautiful order About a century after the death of the founder the new buildings, extending on one side up the harbour, and on the other the Propontis, already covered the narrow ridge of the sixth and the broad su those suburbs froer Theodosius to surround his capital with an adequate and permanent inclosure of walls Froth of Constantinople was above three Roman miles; the circuht be colish acres It is ierations of modern travellers, who have sometimes stretched the lies of the European and even Asiatic coasts But the suburbs of Pera and Galata, though situate beyond the harbour, may deserve to be considered as a part of the city, and this addition may perhaps authorise the ns sixteen Greek (about sixteen Roman) miles for the circumference of his native city Such an extent may seem not unworthy of an imperial residence Yet Constantinople must yield to Babylon and Thebes, to ancient Rome, to London, and even to Paris

”Some estimate may be formed of the expense bestoith imperial liberality on Constantinople, by the allowance of about two millions five hundred thousand pounds for the construction of the walls, the porticoes, and the aqueducts

The forests that overshadowed the shores of the Euxine, and the celebrated quarries of white marble in the little island of Proconnesus, supplied an inexhaustible stock of materials ready to be conveyed by the convenience of a short water carriage to the harbour of Byzantiued the conclusion of the ith incessant toil, but the impatience of Constantine soon discovered that in the decline of the arts the skill as well as the nureatness of his design The buildings of the new city were executed by such artificers as the age of Constantine could afford, but they were decorated by the hands of the e of Pericles and Alexander By Constantine's command the cities of Greece and Asia were despoiled of their most valuable ornaious veneration, the es and poets of ancient times, contributed to the splendid triumph of Constantinople

” The Circus, or Hippodroth and one hundred in breadth The space between the two _oals, was filled with statues and obelisks, and we ment of antiquity--the bodies of three serpents twisted into one pillar of brass Their triple heads had once supported the golden tripod which, after the defeat of Xerxes, was consecrated in the temple of Delphi by the victorious Greeks The beauty of the Hippodro since defaced by the rude hands of the Turkish conquerors; but, under the similar appellation of Atmeidan, it still serves as a place of exercise for their horses

Froanificent edifice, which scarcely yielded to the residence of Roardens, and porticoes, covered a considerable extent of ground upon the banks of the Propontis between the Hippodroht likewise celebrate the baths, which still retained the nanificence of Constantine with lofty columns, various marbles, and above three score statues of bronze But we should deviate fron of this history if we attes or quarters of the city

A particular description, composed about a century after its foundation, enu, a circus, two theatres, eight public and one hundred and fifty-three private baths, fifty-two porticoes, five granaries, eight aqueducts or reservoirs of water, four spacious halls for theof the senate or courts of justice, fourteen churches, fourteen palaces, and four thousand three hundred and eighty-eight houses, which for their size or beauty deserved to be distinguished from the multitude of plebeian habitations”

Gibbon's conception of history was that of a spacious panorama, in which a series of tableaux pass in succession before the reader's eye

He adverts but little, far too little, to that side of events which does not strike the visual sense He rarely generalises or sunant synthetic views But possibly he owes some of the permanence of his fains to support a thesis, to prove a point, he runs ier of one-sidedness and partiality in his presentation of events Gibbon's faithful transcript of the past has neither the eneralisation, and he has coarded as a common mine of authentic facts to which all speculators can resort

The first volume, which was received with such warm acclamation, is inferior to those that followed He seems to have been partly aware of this himself, and speaks of the ”concise and superficial narrative frorasp and easy uish its successors No doubt the subject-rateful The century between Co spasm of anarchy and violence, which was, as Niebuhr said, incapable of historical treatravated into almost complete darkness by the wretched materials which alone have survived, and the attenified narrative on such scanty and imperfect authorities was hardly wise Gibbon would have shown a greater sense of historic proportion if he had passed over this period with a few bold strokes, and sueneral results as may be fairly deduced We may say of the first volume that it was tentative in every way In it the author not only sounded his public, but he was also trying his instruht note He strikes it full and clear in the two final chapters on the Early Church; these, whatever objections rounds, are the real commencement of the Decline and Fall

From this point onwards he ion His materials improve both in nuh a period of frightful anarchy and disaster if compared to a settled epoch, is a period of relative peace and order when compared to the third century The fifth was calamitous beyond example; but ecclesiastical history coht have excited ratitude in Gibbon than it did Froustulus Gibbon is able to put forth all his strength His style is less superfine, as his e of events brought about by the separation between the Eastern and Western Eher qualities which marked hiain necessary to point out, will not be justly esti of this chapter be kept in view We have to remember that his culture was chiefly French, and that his opinions were those which prevailed in France in the latter half of the eighteenth century He was the friend of Voltaire, Helvetius, and D'Holbach; that is, of htated by the selfishinfusion of the spirit which animated not only Voltaire's _Essay on Manners_, but certain parts of Huht have been expected as a matter of course It is essentially absent Gibbon's private opinions h title to the character of an historian by keeping them well in abeyance When he turned his eyes to the past and viewed it with intense gaze, he was absorbed in the spectacle, his peculiar prejudices were hushed, he thought only of the object before hi it as well as he could This is not the coreat deal can be said to support it

It will be as well to take two concrete tests--his treatment of two topics which of all others were most likely to betray him into deviations from historic candour If he stands these, he may be admitted to stand any less severe Let the with Christianity

The snare that was spread by Julian's apostasy for the philosophers of the last century, and their haste to fall into it, are well known

The spectacle of a philosopher on the throne who proclaimed toleration, and conte and too useful controversially to allow ofit

The odious comparisons it offered were so exactly anted for depreciating the Most Christian king and his courtly Church, that all further inquiry into the apostate's merits seemed useless Voltaire finds that Julian had all the qualities of Trajan without his defects; all the virtues of Cato without his ill-humour; all that one admires in Julius Caesar without his vices; he had the continency of Scipio, and was in all ways equal to Marcus Aurelius, the first of er, he would have retarded the fall of the Roman Empire, if he could not arrest it entirely We here see the length to which ”poleht

Julian had been a subject of contention for years between the hostile factions While one party made it a point of honour to prove that he was a h, the other was equally deteron of all virtue, by reason of his en to the pagan reaction in the fourth century, and the social and ests, were perceived by neither side, and it is not difficult to see why they were not The very word reaction, in its hteenth century, and the thing that it expresses was very imperfectly conceived We, who have been surrounded by reactions, real or supposed, in politics, in religion, in philosophy, recognise an old acquaintance in the efforts of the liress as represented in the Christian Church It is a fine instance of the way in which the ever-unfolding present is constantly lighting up the past Julian and his party were the Ultraion, and the Romantics in matters of literature Those radical innovators and refor fro no concealment of their revolutionary aims and intentions to wipe out the past as speedily as possible The conservatives of those ti the refor theanisered especially in many of the ancient and noble families of Greece and Roht old, would be sure to take up the cause of ancestral wisdoainst an reaction was imminent, as Neander points out

Julian himself was a remarkableup of old -, next to those who head theup the rear” The energy of his mind and character was quite exceptional, and if we reflect that he only reigned sixteen months, and died in his thirty-second year, we must ad He and his policy are now discussed with entire calm by inquirers of all schools, and sincere Christians like Neander and Dean Milman are as little disposed to attack hiht are inclined to h this difficult subject Gibbon has found his ith a prudence and true insight which extorted admiration, even in his own day His account of Julian is essentially a modern account The influence of his private opinions can hardly be traced in the brilliant chapters that he has devoted to the Apostate He sees through Julian's weaknesses in a way in which Voltaire never saw or cared to see His pitiful superstition, his huge vanity, his weak affectation are brought out with an incisive clearness and subtle penetration into character which Gibbon was not always so ready to display At the same time he does full justice to Julian's realevidence of his penetration An error on the side of injustice to Julian is very natural in a iance to Christianity, yet fully realises the futility of atte to arrest it in the fourth century A certain intellectual disdain for the reactionary emperor is difficult to avoid Gibbon surmounts it coeneral conception of the reactionary spirit, as a constantly eht, clear vision of the fact before him It may be added that nowhere is Gibbon's coe than in the chapters that he has devoted to Julian The daring march from Gaul to Illyricum is told with in and death in Persia is still better, and can hardly be surpassed It has every nity, which culht before the eled with the almost insuperable difficulties of his situation, the silent hours of the night were still devoted to study and contemplation Whenever he closed his eyes in short and interrupted sluitated by painful anxiety; nor can it be thought surprising that the Genius of the e with a funereal veil his head and his horn of abundance, and slowly retiring from the Imperial tent Theforth to refresh his wearied spirits with the coolness of the ht air, he beheld a fiery meteor, which shot athwart the sky and suddenly vanished Julian was convinced that he had seen thecountenance of the God of war: the council which he summoned, of Tuscan Haruspices, unanimously pronounced that he should abstain from action; but on this occasion necessity and reason were more prevalent than superstition, and the trumpets sounded at the break of day”[12]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 12: It is interesting to coinal Latin of his authority, Ammianus Marcellinus

”Ipse autem ad sollicitam suspensamque quietem paullisper protractus, cum somno (ut solebat) depulso, ad aemulationem Caesaris Julii quaedam sub pellibus scribens, obscuro noctis altitudine sensus cujusdam philosophi teneretur, vidit squalidius, ut confessus est proxieret culmen, conspexit in Galliis, velata cum capite cornucopia per aulaea tristius discedentem Et quamquam ad momentum haesit, stupore defixus, omni tamen superior metu, ventura decretis caelestibus commendabat; relicto humi strato cubili, adulta jam excitus nocte, et nurantissimam facem cadenti similem visam, aeris parte sulcata evanuisse existimavit: horroreque perfusus est, ne ita aperte minax Martis adparuerit sidus”--_Amm Marc_ lib xxv

cap 2]

It will not be so easy to absolve Gibbon froe of prejudice in reference to his treatment of the Early Church It cannot be denied that in the two famous chapters, at least, which concluded his first volume, he adopted a tone which must be pronounced offensive, not only froround of historical equity His preconceived opinions were too strong for hienerally clear vision Yet a distinction must be made The offensive tone in question is confined to these two chapters We need not think that it was in consequence of the clamour they raised that he adopted a different style with reference to church matters in his subsequent volumes A more creditable explanation of his different tone, which will be presently suggested, is at least as probable In any case, these two chapters remain the chief slur on his historical impartiality, and it is worth while to examine what his offence amounts to

Gibbon's account of the early Christians is vitiated by his narrow and distorted conception of the e no spiritual aspirations himself, he could not appreciate or understand them in others Those emotions which have for their object the unseen world and its centre, God, had nofor him; and he was tempted to explain thein and effects to other instincts which were ible to him The wonderland which the mystic inhabits was closed to him, he remained outside of it and reproduced in sarcastic travesty the reports he heard of its rowth of Christianity, were much rather its effects

The first is ”the inflexible and intolerant zeal of the Christians”

and their abhorrence of idolatry With great power of language, he paints the early Christian ”encompassed with infernal snares in every convivial entertain the hospitable deities, poured out libations to each other's happiness

When the bride, struggling ell-affected reluctance, was forced in hymenaeal pomp over the threshold of her new habitation, or when the sad procession of the dead slowly moved towards the funeral pile, the Christian on these interesting occasions was compelled to desert the persons ere dearest to hiuilt inherent in those ie that Gibbon did not ask himself as the cause of this inflexible zeal The zeal produced the effects alleged, but what produced the zeal? He says that it was derived frolects to point out what could have induced Gentiles of every diversity of origin to derive from a despised race tenets and senti scene of self-denial and danger The whole vein of remark is so co on, except very summarily

The second cause is ”the doctrine of a future life, iive weight and efficacy to that iain we have an effect treated as a cause ”The ancient Christians were animated by a contempt for their present existence, and by a just confidence of i so ani Gibbon says it ”was no wonder that so advantageous an offer” as that of immortality was accepted Yet he had just before told us that the ablest orators at the bar and in the senate of Rome, could expose this offer of i offence