after the first false step, the abandonment of the sinews of the war' to the adversary? The subservience of Lepidus to the views of Antony may be ascribed more perhaps to the arts by which he worked on the vanity and ambition of that weak man, than to the dazzling influence of his wealth. Lepidus, who, on the night of the murder, marched his troops into the city and occupied the Campus Martius, was at that crisis the arbiter of the Roman destinies. But the same irresolution, the same astonishment, which seemed to oppress the minds of the tyrannicides with the grandeur of the act which they had achieved,-the same rigid adherence to constitutional proceedings, while the constitution was manifestly in abeyance, which allowed Antony to anticipate them. in the seizure of the treasure-left Lepidus open to his negociations, apparently without any counteracting exertions on their part. The rival, bought by the hand of Antony's daughter for his son, and by the vacant high-priesthood, sank into the tool of Antony. The activity displayed by Antony in this negociation is a further probability in favour of his bold precipitancy in mastering the treasure. Notwithstanding the dark colouring of the Philippics, the vices and prodigalities of his youth, and the impressions of weakness and irresolution which remain upon the mind from the final fate of the soft triumvir' after the battle of Actium, it is impossible not to admire the address and the vigour which were displayed by Mark Antony throughout this trying crisis. Antony must have felt that, in sparing his life, the conspirators had committed an irreparable fault; in leaving him in possession of the consular power, in submitting to his official authority, in treating him as a person of whom it was possible to suppose, from his position, his character, his very virtues, his gratitude, and his attachment to Cæsar, that he could be other than their deadly enemy. He must be all or nothing; and all he might have been-but for the appearance of a new competitor, whose extraordinary and peculiar abilities. no political wisdom could have anticipated. His only formidable rival was the boy Octavian, with more than the coolness, the subtlety, the relentless determination of purpose, which belongs to the age and experience of the most practised veteran. Antony availed himself with equal skill of all his advantages, his office, his wealth, his influence with the veterans; he steadily pursued the course of his ambition through the bye-paths of crafty negociation, and the bloody tracks of civil war. At first he succeeded almost in convincing Cicero of his patriotic designs, while all the time he was weaving his toils around one adversary after another. Cicero and Antony were now the real heads of their respective parties; Cicero of that of the constitution, of the aristocracy, of the govern ment ment by the civil authority-Antony of that of monarchy, however disguised, of the people, as far as an alliance against the patrician party, of government by the army. Could Cicero have done more in his position, and with the means at his command? He was weighed down in the first place by the imbecility and misconduct of the conspirators. Drumann has well described the insignificance into which they at once fell. The lot of the deliverers was by no means enviable. They could only submit, while their enemies built up what they had cast down, and remodelled what they had thrown out of joint. Their hand was strong enough to point the dagger, but not to wield the destinies of Rome. Instead of being objects of wonder, they were forced to seek an asylum with the gods, and congratulated themselves when they were pardoned. They found no sympathy; neither with the multitude, who only spared them from the desire of peace; nor with their enemies for it is courage and subtlety, not cowardly murder, which commands the respect of our adversaries-nor even with their own faction, who began to esteem them very lightly as incapable instruments. No one in the meantime appeared, as Octavian did at a later period, to make a forward movement; and on the other side there was nothing left but to receive them with open arms, since their punishment had been remitted. According to Appian, on the 18th of March they came down from the Capitol, but this took place on the 17th; for, in fact, it was necessary as soon as possible to give an assurance to the people that they need not fear a civil war in the city. In a numerous assembly the decrees of the senate were read by the command of the consuls, with the approbation of Cicero. For the first time on this day, Cicero raised his voice again as a free republican, and doubtless in his joy he spoke with the greatest spirit. The multitude listened with delight, and were anxious to see the conspirators, whom they had taken into their favour. But conscience still made them cowards; though these advances were made to them, they demanded hostages for their security.'-Drumann, vol. i. p. 96. Antony, the restorer of peace, consummated his work; he sent his young son, with the son of Lepidus, and so lured them out of their hiding-places, the more easily to drive them out of Rome. When they reached the Forum, they were received with clamours of joy by the multitude, and by their command they were embraced by the consuls as a token of sincere reconciliation. Lepidus was the host of M. Brutus, the brother of his wife; and Antony invited Cassius, for whom, as a ready man of the world, he expressed the most profound contempt, both in his jest, "You have not still another little dagger under your arm?" and in the smile with which, well aware of the simplicity, the egotism, and the helplessness of the murderers, he received his answer, "I have still a dagger for you, if you are ambitious of being a tyrant." Yet Yet the spare Cassius,' "Who seldom smiled, and smiled in such a sort was the most dangerous of the whole party to jest withal, and the least deserving of contempt. We confess, with all due reverence for the name, and for the deadly stroke' dealt by Brutus, his character always reminds us of Mirabeau's clever soubriquet for Lafayette-the Cromwell-Grandison. Brutus was a kind of philosopher-patriot, who affected to preserve his stoic impassiveness while he was addressing an exasperated mob. Nothing can be more amusing, or at the same time less calculated to raise our respect for Brutus, than the vanity of authorship, which induced him to submit his famous speech to the people, on which hung the destiny of Rome, to Cicero, to be touched up previous to its publication; which speech, however, Cicero found so flat and lifeless that he declined meddling with it. Yet such were the best confederates whom Cicero could command to fight the battle for the liberties of Rome. It was, in fact, from the first, and could not but eventually be-a contest between the unarmed and the armed, of eloquence against power, of the orator who exercised a doubtful sway over a feeble and timid audience, and one who gave the word of command to legions of veterans. The Philippics, whether they were all publicly spoken or not, contain the genuine expression of Cicero's feelings; and they have always read to us as the elaborate invectives of an orator, conscious that his cause is desperate. There is none of that bold superiority, that forcible thundering from on high, which animates the Catilinarians and some of his other orations-the confidence of success, the anticipated ovation, the trampling on the neck of a prostrate adversary. It is the death-struggle of fierce animosity -the hopeless determination of wreaking all the vengeance yet in his power-to perish, as it were, with his talons deep in the blood of his antagonist. Even when affairs appear to brighten, when Decimus Brutus seems to be master of Gaul, and Octavianus Cæsar is still true to the senate, a sudden misgiving, a dark despondency, comes over the exultation of the orator's spirit; if we fall, let us fall like noble gladiators, with dignity- quod gladiatores nobiles faciunt, ut honestè decumbant, faciamus nos, principes orbis terrarum gentiumque omnium, ut cum dignitate potius cadamus, quam cum ignominiâ serviamus.' It is manifest that Cicero had a prophetic consciousness of the peril, though he did not or could not shrink from the responsibility of his position. The conspicuæ divina Philippica famæ,' were nothing against the swords of Antony.' In In the treaty of union, or rather of the division of the empire between Lepidus, Antony, and Octavius, what respect was paid to the leader of the constitutional party? The triumvirate was formed of those who had armies, not votes, at their command. He was only not forgotten, because revenge has a memory which nothing can escape. With Cicero, it may be said, fell the liberties of Rome; yet it was not so much the danger which the whole triumvirate apprehended from his abilities, or his patriotism,—it was the personal vindictiveness of Antony which demanded the victim. He might have been safely left to enjoy the philosophic repose of his Tusculan retreat; the throne of Augustus would not have been endangered by the orator. Cicero himself, no doubt, conscious, from melancholy experience, of the hopeless decay of the republic, would have acquiesced in the inevitable destiny. The republic had passed away; the empire of the world remained and that empire, to endure, must become a monarchy. We thus conclude our notice of a work, which, we repeat, cannot but be imperfectly judged by the examination of any particular passage or insulated fact. Our object has not been so much to expose our own opinions on this period of the Roman annals, as to make known to the English reader a work, which in the flood of new publications annually poured forth on the continent, more particularly in Germany, might not command, even among our scholars, the attention which it merits. Europe is becoming more and more one great literary community. That which in former times was called the Republic of Letters' was after all but a narrow oligarchy; it maintained its intercourse chiefly through a language foreign to all, the Latin; it is now, however, growing, we trust, into a real federal union. We know no service more valuable to the cause of letters, than to promote, and still more, to direct the movements of this amicable commerce. We gladly avail ourselves, therefore, of every opportunity, which our limits will allow, of directing our readers to the more distinguished productions of the continent. In so doing, we are but making an inadequate return for the extraordinary vigilance and activity with which English literature is hailed and welcomed and disseminated throughout Europe by the journals of France and Germany. We can only regret, crowded as we are with subjects of immediate, or of English interest, that we have not more space to devote to this nationalization of foreign literature; that we cannot hope, that it is in fact almost impossible, to keep pace with the rapidity of production throughout Europe. The facts of science may be communicated with almost telegraphic celerity, from one part of the world to the other, particularly since each department has its peculiar votaries, constantly on the look out for for every new discovery, or original view of admitted truths; but the boundless range of literature, comprehending works of imagination, of history, antiquities, classical learning, theology, while it impresses us with the impossibility of keeping up a complete account even of the most eminent of the continental writers, at the same time enforces the expediency of neglecting no opportunity to introduce a name, deserving of reputation, to the readers of our Journal. While we regret that we can do no more, we feel satisfaction in doing all that we can-in promoting at once the general interests of literature, and gathering, as it were, into one familiar circle, the most intelligent, imaginative, and learned writers of all countries; and the more co-operators we find starting up around us, the greater, we can sincerely say, will be our satisfaction. ART. IV.-I. A Commentary on the Memoirs of Theobald Wolfe Tone, &c. By Colonel Philip Roche Fermoy. Paris, 1828. 2. Life of Theobald Wolfe Tone, Founder of the United Irish Society. A new edition. Washington, 1826. 3. Full and Accurate Report of Debates in the Parliament of Ireland, &c. Dublin, 1793. 4. Ireland: the Policy of reducing the Established Church, and paying the Roman Catholic Priests. By J. C. Colquhoun, Esq., of Killermont. Glasgow, 1836. THERE were in Ireland, of late years, two societies, not simul taneous but successive-one denominated the Comet Club, the other the Irish Brigade; both instituted, it was said, for the accomplishment of the same great work-national independence;' both suspected of having been concerned in some occupations which shunned the light, and each known to have exhibited public proofs that its labours were not frivolous or unproductive. The Comet,' a weekly newspaper, was the visible presence in which the spirit of the former was discernible-the manifestations of the other were monthly. When we say the other,' we are not to be understood as intimating that the second apparition was substantially different from its predecessor. The Comet' had shaken from its horrid hair' a too portentous and too significant monition; vulgar minds interpreted it into an advice to the Irish peasantry to massacre the Protestant clergy,-the enterprising and judicious discovered that the advice was given rather prematurely, —and a court of law was illiberal enough to pronounce it a seditious libel. The rebuked Comet' withdrew, and the Comet Club dissolved. But, if we may borrow the expression from well-known optical illusions, it dissolved itself into a new society; |