THE CONSPIRACY OF PHILOTAS.

ALexander was arriv'd to the highest pitch of Grandeur; Darius was dead, and his Army van­quish'd; Asia had chang'd her Ma­ster, who seeing himself in the Per­sian Throne, and finding nothing more on Earth to satisfy his Ambiti­on, would have had his Subjects gi­ven him Divine Worship. The lu­ster of too great Majesty, is so far from attracting Respect and Fear, that it excites great Ones to Envy, and makes them aspire to wear the Diadem; and whosoever equals himself to the Gods, is unworthy to [Page 10] live among Men. And hence it came that Philotas, one in Alexander's Army, that could not support his Pride, endeavoured to dispatch him.

Of all Vices, Ambition is the most dangerous, because it bears a resem­blance of Virtue; it has apparently the same end; the desire of Glory is inseparable to them both; and of this Philotas was as greedy as Alex­ander. Virtue and Ambition have their original from the same Source, from grandeur of Courage, from a noble, bold, and undertaking Spirit; the difference I find between them is this, Justice limits bounds to Virtue; Ambition knows none, has no Faith, no Friendship, no Honesty: it dares all things; neither the fear of Dan­ger, nor the power of Justice can detain it: it generates those criminal thoughts that strike at Royalty, the hatred, jealousie, and revenge of great Ones.

Three sorts of Persons commonly [Page 11] conspire the Death of Princes. Cer­tain melancholy People, who at any price whatsoever, though it be at the expence of their Lives, enter­prise extraordinary Actions to eter­nise their Memory to Posterity, not much caring whether it be honoura­ble, or held in abomination; such was he that burnt the Temple of Di­ana; the Jacobin that kill'd Henry III, and many others. Some transported with an abominable desire of Re­venge, care not to survive an Injury receiv'd, as he that stab'd Henry IV. And almost all great Ones, in the Re­volution of a State, hope for some change of Fortune.

For this last reason the common People are to be feared, when a Go­vernment is changed from a Demo­cracy to a Monarchy; the Nobility, when it has bin an Aristocracy; the Princes of the Blood, if a Kingdom be Hereditary; the Ministers and Fa­vorites, if Elective.

The Kingdom of Macedonia de­scended [Page 12] for several Ages from Fa­ther to Son; and whilst there were Successors, no one dar'd enterprise any thing against his King's Life. Alexander labour'd to secure himself immortality by Actions of an Hero­ick Courage, by the grandeur of his Enterprizes; he was enflam'd with a desire of Glory, little minding the preservation of his Life, and less the leaving a Successor to his Empire. He prefer'd Bagoas before Barsine; Roxane known to be great with Child at his Death, could not keep the Ma­cedonian Captains from dividing a­mong themselves, those vast and lovely Provinces, into as many King­doms. The Scepter of Alexander therefore being to fall into strange Hands, his Nobles pretended to his Crown: which there was no appear­ance of their arriving to, the King being young and vigorous; there­fore they were to hasten their Expe­ctations by the means of Ingratitude, of Treachery, of a Crime horrid [Page 13] and detestable. Nothing retains Am­bition, but the fear of a lawful Suc­cessor, in which consists the security of a Prince; for there's none will form any Design contrary to his Faith and Duty, unless he be supported by more than ordinary hopes. Alex­ander's Death would have made al­most as many Kings as were Macedo­nian Captains; what wonder then if he were continually expos'd to the murmuring of his Souldiers, to the Infidelity of his Friends, to Dome­stick Treacheries?

I am much mistaken if it were not this that first gave Philotas thoughts of advancing himself to Royalty: Parmenios's Valour, Merit, and E­steem, who commanded a puissant Army in Media, confirm'd him in his Design, and his own Grandeur finish'd his Resolve.

'Tis dangerous to suffer any to approach too near to that whose Possession can make them happy; that Husband may blame himself, [Page 14] that shews his Wife to another, who after falls in love with her. Royalty has greater Charms; 'tis like a po­lish'd Glass, dull'd with the least Breath of those are near it; or like the Fountain of Narcissus, the trans­cendent Beauty appearing in it is so charming, that there's none can see it, and live without the enjoyment. A Prince that gives too great prefer­ment to a Favorite, a Minister, or a great Captain, nourishes a Rival, a cruel Enemy, a Competitor for his Empire; that has but one step to mount into his Throne. We read in the Histories of all Ages, of seve­ral Kings Favorites, of an obscure Birth, incapable of great Matters, who coming into an entire possession of their Master's Favours, oftentimes, by ways shameful and wicked, have dar'd to aspire to their Crowns. What may we not then expect from a great Captain, Generous, Liberal, Ambi­tious, of an illustrious Birth, Head of a powerful Army, belov'd of [Page 15] the Souldiers, and the common Peo­ple?

I own it pleasant for a Monarch to discharge himself of the weighty Burthen of State-Affairs, on the ca­pacity of some Minister; to repose himself from the Glory of his Ar­mies, upon the valour of a great Captain; to intrust his most secret Thoughts with the Wisdom and Dis­cretion of a Favorite: But this Fa­vorite, this Minister, this Captain should be only Executors, and not Masters of their Prince's Will; and this Prince should as far exceed them in discerning Merit, in understanding of Affairs, in judicious Fore-sight, in eminency of Capacity, as in Power and Grandeur. Such exquisite Parts are to be feared in a Favorite, his Fidelity is shaken by so great Ad­vantages, and we have seen in this Age a King, formidable to his Ene­mies, implore the Assistance of ano­ther King against his Favorite. If a Prince must needs spend his Genero­sity, [Page 16] if he must needs heap up Fa­vours upon his Subjects, let him take heed not to bestow them all in one Place, or on several Persons united in Friendship or Blood, who may have the same Desires, the same Will.

Be a Minister never so powerful, if he have but one Employ, one Charge in an Empire, he can have no more Creatures than his Authori­ty reaches: Should he meditate any Design destructive to the State, he would meet with a thousand Obsta­cles. A General of an Army, who is neither Master of the Treasury, nor has Intelligence with a Superin­tendent, is not at all to be feared: He that commands the Land-Forces is oppos'd to the Admiral, the Affe­ction of the People to the Souldier's Rebellion; but if a Minister be Ge­neral of an Army, Superintendent of the Treasury, Admiral; or if these Charges are at his disposal, what is there that he cannot do? if faithful, he is formidable; if unfaith­ful, he is King.

Parmenio and Philotas were Ma­sters of the Empire, one General of the Cavalry, the other of a whole Army; the former Governor of se­veral Provinces, Superintendent of the Treasury, having in all Battels the command of one Wing; the lat­ter awing the great Ones, a Favorite, and Arbiter of his Prince's Life. The immense Riches of Philotas, the great number of Creatures of all sorts and conditions inseparably lin­ked to his Fortune; his Authority in the Armies almost equalling the King's, might well induce him young as he was, cruel, full of delicacy and pride, to conspire the death of Alex­ander, the only Let to him in his way to the highest pitch of Gran­deur. Add to these the Love of a Woman, the true cause of his de­struction.

Antigone, of a noble Birth; an excellent Beauty; a sweet Nature; a lively, pleasant, charming Spirit; was one of those illustrious Prisoners [Page 18] that the Governor of Damascus deli­vered to Permenio, with all the Trea­sures Darius had committed to his disloyal custody. This fair Slave made her self Mistress of Philotas his Liberty; he forgot that he had all power over her, and shamefully sub­mitted himself to her Laws. That pride, that contempt, that made him but a little before despise Darius his Nobles, the chiefest of the Macedo­nians, and equal himself to his King, chang'd it self immediately into sub­missions to his own Captive; he be­came fearful, (as are the greatest part of Lovers) and thought himself un­worthy of her, because he was not Alexander.

The violence of his Passion, rouzes in his Heart a vehement desire of making himself King: impatient of enjoying Antigone, he despairs of possessing her, unless he share the Empire with her. At the Wars, egg'd on with great Love and Cou­rage, he exposes himself to dangers [Page 19] more than ordinary; he is liberal to prodigality, gentle, affable, gains the Hearts of his Souldiers, cloaths himself like them, accommodates himself to their Manners, protects them, is belov'd, and reigns already over the whole Army. But so many good Qualities were produc'd by Love, which being blind, can never guide Lovers in their Conduct; and in his, Reason and Prudence had no share.

At Table, in his Bed, in the midst of good Cheer and Imbracements, he begins to celebrate his Actions. Alex­ander could not recompence them with a Kingdom large enough, for his Ambition. Philotas looks on him no longer as his Benefactor; accuses him of Injustice; speaks insolently of him; debases this great Monarch; ascribes all his Conquests to Parme­nio; lets scape some injurious Lan­guage: the most clear-sighted pene­trate into his Designs, and suspect his Loyalty.

Perhaps he might think that he discharg'd his Heart into the Bosom of a Woman amorous and discreet. A strange thing; that so many Ex­amples of Infidelity cannot make Lovers suspicious of the usual Incon­stancy of their Mistresses. Fickle Antigone ceases to love Philotas, and betrays him. She must destroy him to preserve her new Lover; She thinks it her securest way to acquaint Alexander with the imminent danger threatning him. Craterus, whom the King honour'd particularly with his Favour, jealous of Philotas his Glo­ry, and an Enemy to his Grandeur, seeks occasion to ruin him: which Antigone proffers him, and tells him all that miserable Wretch had disco­ver'd to her of his Mind, during the most tender moments of their privacy.

As it is impossible that the Dust cast into the Wind should not be scatter'd, so it is very difficult for a Secret intrusted with a Woman, [Page 21] young, handsom, and amorous, not to be divulg'd. She longs to know that that's kept from her, and when she knows it, desires as much to pub­lish it. She is ardent in her Pursuit, treacherous after Enjoyment, cruel in her new Love. No kindness can retain her, the remembrance of a Man she has lov'd tenderly, and a­morously embrac'd, affects her not, like the Earth that darkens the Sun, from whence it receives its warmth. But if there be any thing firm in the tenderness of her Sentiments, happy is the Man that has her, she is an inex­haustible Sourse of Pleasures.

Craterus glad to destroy his Ene­my, by preserving the Life of his King, runs to Alexander, and gives him an account of what he had heard. Antigone is call'd, and is not asham'd to publish her own Infamy, and the secret of a Man that so in­tirely lov'd her. The King never­theless dissembles, whether it were that the consideration of Parmenio's [Page 22] great Services, his unbyass'd Friend­ship, his incorrupted Loyalty, in­clin'd him to Clemency; or whether it were that he thought Philotas in­nocent, or feared too lightly to con­demn, upon the bare testimony of a slave, the fidelity of an ancient Servant, most passionate for his Glory, one of his chief Captains and Confidents, adored by the Souldiers for his Libe­rality and Magnificence. But For­tune, that took a particular care of Alexander, and prepar'd for him new Conquests, discover'd the whole In­treigue of a most horrid Plot. Dym­nus, one in no great Authority at Court, but of a stout Heart, and great Spirit, was one of those that had conspir'd the King's Death; he was so in love with a young Youth call'd Nicomachus, that he could not but intrust him with a Secret, upon which depended his own safety; and that of so many Persons of Quality who were concern'd in the Enter­prize. He declares it to him, and [Page 23] endeavours to perswade him to make one, as well from the consideration of their Friendship, as from that of his future Grandeur after the At­tempt. He Weeps, Caresses, Threa­tens, Urges, and sometimes promi­sing him a Kingdom; sometimes set­ting the Image of Death before his Eyes, if he refuse to hold with them; Would'st thou have (says he) my dear Nichomachus, a greater Testimony of my Affection? I trust my Life to thy Faith, and I call thee to be a sharer in the Empire of all Asia.

This young Youth bearing a great love towards his King, was seized with horror at a Crime so full of cruelty; he protests he'l never be wanting to his Duty, to the Loyalty he owes his Master; that all he can do for his Friend, is not to ruin him, if he'l repent of so great a wicked­ness.

Dymnus stood wavering between Love and Fear; at length setting his Sword at his Friend's Brest, calling [Page 24] him sometimes Coward, sometimes Traitor, he was going to begin with him the execution of his Design, but that the young Man in a fright pro­mis'd more than he was ask'd. He feigned therefore a resolution to exe­cute the Enterprize, and desired to know the number and quality of the Conspirators. Dymnus, full of joy that he had gain'd him, names Peu­colaus, Nicanor, Aphaebetus, Loceus, Demetrius, Dioxenus, Archepolis and Amyntas. 'Tis certain he made no mention of Philotas, who, I am rea­dy to think, according to the custom of great Ones, lay expecting the is­sue of the Conspiracy, and left others to carry it on, that if it were dis­cover'd, he might cast the whole De­sign on them.

Nicomachus transported with joy, that it lay in his power to shew his King a proof of his Fidelity, runs to his Brother Ceballinus, and ac­quaints him with the whole Matter. 'Tis a wonder that the greatest Con­spiracies [Page 25] mention'd in History, have bin always discover'd by the most wicked of those that have enterpriz'd them. Intemperance of speech is the inseparable Companion of Vil­lany, and incompatible with Pru­dence, which chiefly consists in hear­ing all, in distrusting even Reason it self, and in keeping silence.

It was not convenient for Nico­machus to go to the King in Person, the Conspirators might have suspect­ed his Fidelity; they doubted no­thing of Ceballinus, who was usually in the Palace: And he not losing a minute of time, endeavour'd to speak with Alexander. At first there was none to introduce him, but after­wards there appear'd Philotas, to whom in a great fright he relates what he had heard of the Conspira­cy, and prays him to advertise the King.

Philotas his silence, is for certain a most convincing proof of his dis­loyalty. He is not troubled at this [Page 26] Relation, the danger he sees himself expos'd to concerns him not, the In­terest of his own preservation cannot abate his Courage, fierce and cruel towards himself: he praises Ceballinus his Loyalty, and is himself disloyal; he returns again to the King (for he could not well do otherwise without giving suspicion) but discourses with him all the while of other Matters.

The Night came on, Ceballinus wondered there was no stir made, the King being in so imminent danger; and meeting with Philotas, asked him if he had inform'd Alexander of what he had told him? His answer was, That he had not the opportu­nity. Ceballinus grew more mistrust­ful, when he saw the Conspirators the next day walking freely in the Palace, Alexander having done no­thing to them, suitable to the resolu­tion his resentment should have made him take: and addressing him­self again to Philotas, he intreated him not to neglect an Affair of that [Page 27] Consequence, that concern'd the King's Life. He answered him a­gain, He would be mindful of it.

Several Historians have thought Philotas innocent; because, say they, there's no likelihood that a Man of his Courage and Reputation, should have bin two days without provide­ing for his safety, either by dispatch­ing Ceballinus and his Brother, or by an ingenuous acknowledgment of his perfidious Crime. Plutarch, a great stickler for the Glory of the Grecians, endeavours to justify him; but that Learned Man, as innocent as he makes Philotas, did not well consider, that his silence could not but be esteem'd a Crime, in the judg­ment of all Politicians. 'Twas for his security to hold his peace; in speaking there was danger, either of losing his Life, or his Reputation. It may be the King might have par­don'd him: Can a Man of Spirit sur­vive an Infamy? His Authority might have shelter'd him from the [Page 28] storm, and have made the cloud break over others heads. What likelihood? Do those that are drawn to Execution, fear after Death the disgrace of great Ones? What then? tell the Conspirators that their Plot was discover'd? He, who was the Head of the Conspiracy, cared not to frighten those that were to exe­cute it. There's no Resolution but staggers at the fear of Punishment; Constancy shakes at the apprehension of being call'd in question; there must be then a recourse to new Mea­sures, Philotas must rather animate his Confederates, than terrify them: What if he had made away with Ceballinus in the King's Palace, in the Camp, in the very Arms of his Companions, what would Nicoma­chus have said, whom 'twas impossi­ble for him to find as he had hid him­self? All these Precautions were de­structive. Philotas did like a great Politician, to say nothing to the King, to say nothing to the Conspi­rators, [Page 29] and to make no noise. He entertain'd Ceballinus with fair words, the day for the Enterprise was come, and according to all appearance Ce­ballinus shou'd have rely'd on the fi­delity of Philotas, a Favorite of Alex­ander's, and one who had greater Interest than any in his preserva­tion.

But Ceballinus not believing that the King wou'd slight his Informati­on, began to be mistrustful. He goes to Metron, a young Gentleman that kept the King's Wardrobe, and dis­covers the Enterprise to him: who presently causing him to be hid, ac­quaints the King with it as he was bathing himself. Alexander imme­diately gives order to apprehend Dymnus; he enters his Wardrobe, Ceballinus cries out, I see, Sir, you are deliver'd from the hands of Trai­tors.

The King afterwards enquiring touching the Circumstances of the Conspiracy, he told him every thing [Page 30] that Dymnus had declar'd. But ha­ving confess'd that it was three days since his Brother gave him notice, Alexander doubted not but that he was one of the Confederates, since he had so long defer'd his Informa­tion. And therefore he caus'd him presently to be shackl'd. Ceballinus, who expected a recompence for his fidelity; feeling the weight of his Chains, cries out in an astonishment, That the very first moment he knew of the Conspiracy, he ran and gave notice of it to Philotas, the only cause of this delay.

Then Alexander, pierced with grief to see himself so basely betray'd by a Man loaded with his Favours, and so particularly honour'd with his Friendship, lifted up his hands to­wards Heaven; and, as it were, seiz'd with horror, detested with Tears so hideous an Ingratitude.

Without doubt there's no Grief equals that of having passionately lov'd one that proves ingrateful and [Page 31] perfidious. When we call to mind, that after all the pains we have taken, after all the proofs we have given of a true Affection and great Trust, we are paid with Ingratitude, we can blame none but our selves, we must condemn our own Judgments. One would think Nature declares her self against us, since she has indu'd the meanest Plant with acknowledg­ment, and seems to rob us of it. This example of Ingratitude will teach an honest Man not to expect returns from a Person he obliges. Favours should only proceed from our incli­nation to do good; the Heart of a Man's the more noble the less 'tis in­teressed, and the pleasure of venting his Generosity, is to the honest Man recompence enough.

Dymnus seeing himself inviron'd with Guards, troubled at the enor­mity of his Crime, and the Image of a Death, accompanied with a thou­sand pains, ran himself through with his own Sword, and would have [Page 32] made an end of himself upon the Spot, had not the Souldiers inter­rupted him.

To kill ones self, is in my opinion the basest and the unworthiest of all Actions. Let Antiquity drain its Eloquence, to praise the resolution of Cato or Lucretia; as for me, I can­not but blame Antiquity for calling Cowardise, Valour; Folly, Wisdom; Despair, Virtue. He has no Heart that kills himself, because he will not survive a misfortune more terrible than Death. I call Grandeur of Courage, that constancy with which the wise Man boldly expects the last moment of his Life, as the end of all things, not of misery. For then Death's a favour, it sets at liberty, and makes those happy, that are swept from a dark train of Miseries accompanying Life. Cato could die, but he could not support Caesar's ha­tred. His Misfortunes cast him into despair, because his Wisdom aban­don'd him in his Misfortunes. The [Page 33] desire of Life is more vehement than any; to vanquish this may seem a compleat Victory; true Wisdom, ab­solute Government over the Passi­ons: but in reality, 'tis Fear that is victorious, occasion'd by some present dislike, sight of Torments, or ap­prehension of worse to come.

Dymnus thus wounded, was drag'd to the Palace, Alexander, as soon as he saw him, How comes it Vilain (says he in a passion) that thou hast judged Philotas more worthy of the Empire of the Ʋniverse than me? This misera­ble Wretch was already speechless, and turning his Face from the King's, he fetch'd a deep sigh (a proof as it were of his Crime) and yielded up the Ghost.

'Tis a weakness to show any signs of Repentance. A Man that is any thing dextrous, though he be suspe­cted, accus'd, condemn'd, [...] [Page 34] him. Dymnus press'd with remorse of Conscience, is troubled, stabs himself, sighs, and becomes his own Accuser, Judg [...], and Executioner. Could he have expected a greater Punishment? Why then not indure the Face of Alexander? Why then avouch his Perfidy, and declare him­self a Vilain?

Ceballinus could not have desir'd a greater proof as to the truth of what he had said; and Philotas justify'd him to his own condemnation, loo­sing him from his Chains to put them on himself. The King, who whilst Philotas was absent, had complain'd of his Ingratitude with tears, could not dissemble his resentment when he saw him. Wherefore with anger in his looks he spake thus; ‘Ceballinus deserves extream punishment, if he has bin three days without making me acquainted with a Conspiracy against my Person; but if he gave you information as soon as ever he knew it, your silence is yet more [Page 35] inexcusable, considering the great Testimonies of my Trust and Af­fection. I cannot imagine what should induce you to so horrid a Treason. I have yet some senti­ments of Affection for you; If you are innocent, Ceballinus deserves to die; if guilty, make an ingenu­ous confession, I am not inexora­ble.’

It concerns the prudence of a Criminal to be throughly acquainted with the quality of his Crime, and not to confess it, if of so heinous a na­ture, as to exceed his Prince's Cle­mency. An ingenuous acknowledg­ment of a Fault, committed through a desire of Revenge, or by the in­stigation of Choler or Envy, may meet with favour; but for Ingrati­tude and Disloyalty in a Favorite, there's no hopes of Pardon.

Nevertheless Philotas ingenuously confesses that Ceballinus inform'd him two days since that Alexander was in danger of his Life, and that he told [Page 36] him the whole order of the Con­spiracy. ‘But what likelihood, said he, that I should give credit to the relation of an infamous Person, and in reporting it to the King, expose my self to the laughter of the whole Court? He added, That if the thing had bin found false, he should have sacrificed himself to the hatred of those Nobles nam'd among the Con­spirators: that nevertheless Dymnus's Death did sufficiently declare what he had thought fittest to conceal. And then imbracing the King's knees, he humbly besought him to pardon a Man he had so much lov'd, and who had hitherto given a thou­sand proofs of an untainted Loyal­ty; since the only Crime that could be imputed to him, was, that he had neglected an Information, that he could not believe true.’

As for me, I am ready to think, that if Philotas had disown'd his Fault, the King would never have suspected the fidelity of such a Friend, [Page 37] upon the bare Testimony of a young debauch'd Youth. The Grandeur of his Services, the Merit of Parme­nio, his Birth, Alexander's Affection, Esteem, and Fortune, which made him think himself beyond the reach of Ambushes, would have pleaded his Cause. Dymnus was dead, Cebal­linus had given him his Information in private; What had this unfortu­nate Man to fear, but the remorse of his Conscience, which compel'd him to confess his Fault? Such force has Guilt to blind the Guilty.

As Philotas was free and ingenu­ous, so Alexander was close and coun­terfeit. He gave him the Hand, seeming to believe him, and stay'd him to sup with him, with such ami­ty and freedom, that Philotas, assured of his Reconciliation, thought him­self more in favour with his Prince than ever. But he was not well ac­quainted with the Heart of Man, Fortune makes it as changeable as Proteus; the Manners and Customs [Page 38] of the Persians, a new Grandeur, the Empire of the Universe had al­ter'd for the worse a disposition for­merly sweet, gentle, and inclin'd to Good more than any; and Philotas should have bin perswaded, by the alteration Ambition had made in him­self, that when Fortune smiles, we are like her, inconstant, disloyal, and quite a different thing from what we appear to be. The Wine, and good Cheer warm'd Alexander's Revenge. The Feast was no sooner ended, but he call'd a Council of his Friends; who having heard the Relation of Nicomachus, and the King's Senti­ment thereupon, judged Philotas his destruction as good, as resolv'd upon. Craterus, his Enemy, and one of Alexander's Favorites, lays hold on this Occasion to exercise his particu­lar Vengeance, under pretext of zeal and love for his Master; says he,

‘Sir, Why did not you acquaint us presently with Philotas his Infi­delity? [Page 39] We would have counsel'd you to have pardon'd this Traytor, without shewing him that he was indebted to you for his Life. Af­ter an attempt upon yours, and a Pardon for that most abominable Crime, what will he not dare? What may he not expect from your Clemency? Think not, Sir, that the danger he has seen himself in, will render him more loyal for the future. It will not be always in your power to prevent this Parri­cide. He'l observe other Measures, and lay such Snares, as 'twill be impossible for you to escape. For fear the least Fault of his should waken your Indignation, he'l en­deavour again to deprive you of your Life. And though Philotas his Heart be intirely chang'd, the news of his Crime, and your Cle­mency, will provoke Parmenio's. Will he, in the Authority he is in, loaded with Honour and Glory, at the Head of a great Army, be wil­ling [Page 40] to acknowledg that he has any Obligation to you for his Son's Life? Some Favours are look'd up­on as Injuries. Without doubt he'l accuse you of Ingratitude and In­justice, and will rather take away your Life, than have it thought that Philotas has deserv'd Death. Pray, Sir, consider the imminent danger you are threatned with; We have done our Duty, there's none can impute your Destruction to us, after the counsel we have given you to provide for your Safety.’

There's no Eloquence more per­swasive, than that of a Courtier; He's a vehement and pathetick Ora­tor, who knows his Prince's Genius, his Weakness, his Inclination, the Intriegues of the Court and all its Policies. Craterus his Speech, though artificial, appeared full of Zeal, and prevail'd in Council. You see how cunningly he could conceal under a profound dissimulation, the jealousy he had a long time had of Philotas [Page 41] his Grandeur. Of the whole Com­pany, there was not one that under­took this miserable Man's defence; all concluded upon his Death.

The resolution they had taken re­quir'd secrecy; which Alexander re­commended to them; and to avoid giving suspicion, he order'd all his Captains to get ready to march on the morrow. In the mean while Cae­nus and Erigyus, Leonatus and Per­diccas, received order to send out a detachment of Cavalry, to seize all the Passages that led into Media, that Parmenio might have no intelli­gence given him. And about mid­night Attarras commanding three­hundred Men, went out to secure Philotas his House. Fifty of the boldest of them forc'd the Dore; and whether it were that he rely'd on his reconciliation with the King, or that his Disquiets had over-tired his Spirits, Attarras loaded him with Irons whilst he lay fast a-sleep. The rustling of Arms, and the weight of [Page 42] his Chains wakening him at the same time, he cry'd out, starting; Ah! Sir, the malice of my Enemies has prevail'd with your bounty. They carried him afterwards to the Palace, neither his Fetters, nor the conside­ration of his Misery, being able to extract from him so much as one word, or one groan.

The Authority of the Kings of Macedonia was limited, during Peace by the common People, and in time of War by the Souldery; both the one and the other were Judges of Capital Crimes; so that Alexander, Emperor as he was, and Master of all the East, was forced by the Laws to plead his own Cause, and be the Ac­cuser of Philotas.

Alexander having caus'd the Ma­cedonians to be assembled in the Pa­lace, and expos'd the Body of Dym­nus to their view, spake to them in manner following: ‘Souldiers, a handful of Conspirators had al­most rob'd you of Alexander. I [Page 43] owe my safety to the Gods. I have liv'd to see you; and your pre­sence animates me the more against my Parricides. I cannot bear it, that these wicked Vilains would have frustrated me of my Inten­tions, and the Fruit of my La­bours, which can be no other than to honour your Valour, and to re­compence your Services. Here his’ Speech was interrupted by the sigh­ing of his Souldiers, who all wept bitterly; from whence he took oc­casion to prosecute in these terms. ‘How will you behave your selves then, when I shew you who these Traitors are? I scarce dare yet name them, I expel them as far as I am able from my memory, as if this could save them from their Punish­ment. But I must stifle the remem­brance of former friendship, and discover this abominable Plot. And how indeed can I well conceal it? Parmenio, our Friend of a longer standing than any, on whom both [Page 44] my Father and I have liberally heap'd up Favours, has, in his old Age, made himself the Head of this Attempt. Philotas his Son, the chief Instrument of his Treachery, has suborn'd Peucolaus, Demetrius, this wretched Dymnus whose Bo­dy lies before you, and as many others as he could find capable of so great a madness. At these words’ arose a great noise, and confus'd murmur, such as is common to great Assemblies, especially of Souldiers seized with anger and amazement. Nicomachus, Metron, and Ceballinus are introduced. Each of them gives in what he had already declar'd; but none charges Philotas. So that the whole Army, hearing no Evi­dence against him, immediately laid aside their Anger, and there was a general silence. The King pursu'd thus: ‘What can you imagine the Design of a Man, who inform'd of this Conspiracy, kept it secret? Dymnus by killing himself declar'd [Page 45] the Information true. Ceballinus chose rather to expose himself to Tortures, than to conceal a thing of such Importance, though he was not certain of it. Metron was so disquieted, that to discharge himself soon enough, he rush'd into the Chamber where I was bathing. Only Philotas believes nothing, fears nothing. A most excellent Courage! when his King's in great­est danger, he changes not his Coun­tenance! he slights the Informati­on. Ah! doubtless this silence was not without Design. The desire of reigning animated Philotas to the perpetration of the highest Crime. His Father commands all Media, and he relying on the cre­dit he has in my Army, and ima­gining himself Master of my For­ces, aspires to more than he is ca­pable of, to more than he deserves. It may be he despises me because I have no Children; but he's mista­ken, you are my Family; as long as [Page 46] you live, I am not without Children.’ Then he rehears'd the Letter that had bin intercepted, written from Parmenio to his two Sons Nicanor and Philotas. There was nothing charg'd them more home of so capi­tal an Enterprise. The substance of it was this; ‘In the first place take care of your selves, then of those that are under you, and we need not fear accomplishing our Designs.’ The King added, ‘That 'twas con­ceived in these terms, for fear of being intercepted, that none but the Confederates might understand it. But you'l say, Dymnus, when he told Nicomachus the Names of the Conspirators, said nothing of Philotas. That's nothing at all, Souldiers, to his Innocency, but rather an effect of his Power. He is so dreaded by those that can ac­cuse him, that when they confess their own Crime, they conceal his. We may judg of Philotas by the Actions of his Life. He was a Con­federate [Page 47] in the Conspiracy of my Cousin Amyntas in Macedonia. He gave his Sister in Marriage to Atta­lus, the greatest of my Enemies. And when I wrote to him in a fa­miliar Letter, what the Oracle of Jupiter Ammon had spoken in my favour, he had the confidence to answer me, That he was glad to hear I was received into the num­ber of the Gods; but that he pity'd those that were to live under the Government of a Man that could not contain himself within the bounds of Humane Nature. Are not these sufficient Marks of the a­lienation of his Spirit, and of the envy he had for my Glory? All this I kept to my self as long as possibly I could. For I look'd on it as a ripping up of my own Bow­els, to disgrace those to whom I had bin so favourable. But now they are not Words that are to be chastised. From liberty of Speech, he has proceeded to that of Action, [Page 48] from wounds of Words, to those of Swords. Philotas (you may believe it) has design'd to assassi­nate me; and if he be capable to perform it, Souldiers, Where shall I seek for safety? Whom shall I trust my Life with? I have made him the only General of the Cavalry, which composes the greatest part of the Army, and the Flower of the young Macedonian Nobility. I have committed to his trust my Safety, Hopes, and Victories. I have ad­vanc'd his Father to the same de­greee you advanc'd me: I have gi­ven him the Government of Media, the Richest of our Provinces, with an absolute command over thou­sands of our Citizens and Allies. In fine, those from whom I expected most defence, have bin the for­wardest to ruin me. Far better is it to fall at the Head of an Army by valiant Enemies, than to be butcher'd in a Camp by treacherous Subjects. Preserv'd from Perils, I [Page 49] had reason to be afraid of, I am now fallen into those I never fear'd. Souldiers, you have oftentimes de­sir'd me to have a care of my Life; have a care of it now your selves. I put my self into your hands, I have recourse to your Arms; I will not live except you desire it, which if you do, shew it in avenging me.’ Then Philotas was introduc'd in Chains, his Head cover'd with an old Cloth. 'Twas observ'd he was in that condition look'd on with pity, by even those who not long before had envied him. They had seen him the day before General of the Cavalry; they knew he Supp'd the same Evening with the King, and now they saw him at the same time Guilty, Condemn'd, and loaded with Chains. They consider'd likewise the strange Fortune of Parmenio that great Captain, who lately had lost two of his Sons, Hector and Nicanor, and would then shortly hear the sad News of his only re­maining [Page 50] Son's Condemnation, and of his own Process being made in his absence. These Reflections made the Assembly incline to pity. But Amyntas exasperated them afresh a­gainst Philotas; telling them, ‘That they were betray'd to the Barbari­ans; that they were in danger of never seeing their own Country, their Relations, their Wives; that they were like to be a Body with­out a Head, without Life, without a Name, expos'd in a strange Coun­try to the derision of their Enemies.’ This Speech, though it prevailed a­gainst Philotas, was not very plea­sing to the King, who lik'd not that his Souldiers should be discourag'd by the remembrance of their Country, and their Wives. Caenus, Brother­in-Law to Philotas, inveighed against him more violently then any; He call'd him Traitor to his King, to his Country, to the Army, and took up a great Stone to throw at his Head, (some have thought this was only to [Page 51] free him from those Torments that were prepared for him); but the King holding his hand, told him, That the Prisoner should have liberty to speak for himself, and that he would not otherwise suffer him to be condemn'd. Philotas therefore is order'd to plead his own Cause. But whether it were remorse of Conscience, or fear of Death, he dar'd not so much as look up, or open his Mouth. He shed Tears in abundance, and fainted away in the Arms of him that held him. They wip'd his Eyes, brought him to himself, and he was going to speak; which the King perceiving, The Ma­cedonians, said he, shall be thy Judges, tell me whether thou intendest to use the Language of thy own Country?

There are here, answered Philotas, many that are not Macedonians, who will understand me better if I use the same Language you have done; with­out doubt on purpose to be under­stood of most.

‘Observe (says Alexander) Phi­lotas his arrogance; he disdains to speak our Language, as if he were asham'd of being born a Macedo­nian. No matter, let him speak how he will; only remember, Soul­diers, that our Customs and Man­ners are an abomination to him, those of the Barbarians very agree­able.’

Men are equally inclin'd to op­press the Great, and to pity the mise­rable. A strange thing! if you are happy, you are persecuted by envy; if you are unhappy, you are pitied by every one, but none comforts you. Caenus, who had greater Inte­rest than any to preserve the Honour and Life of Philotas, whose Sister he had married, is the first that rises up against him; 'tis not enough to call him Traitor to his King, to his Country, to the Army, he is the first that takes up a Stone to throw at his Head. Many have believ'd that it was then his in­tention to have him ston'd, that so he [Page 53] might escape more cruel Tortures. But the more expert, who have try'd the Treachery and Inhumanity of the greatest part of Relations, doub­ted not but that Caenus would have stifled the Compassion Philotas his Misfortune had bred in the Hearts of the Souldiers, which taking force through the Grandeur of his Merit, and the power of his Oration, might at last cause him to be declar'd Inno­cent.

Caenus was one of the Council, when Philotas his Death was resolv'd upon, and spake not one word to justify him; neither acquainted he him of this Consult, for fear, it may be, he should suspect him, or others look on him as a Traitor to his King; thus far he is worthier of Praise than Censure. He should have detested the Crime, but not condemn'd the Criminal; he should have executed Alexander's Orders, but not inflam'd his Choler and Revenge. As fo [...] me, I am ready to think that th [...] [Page 54] ambition of augmenting his Fortune from the ruins of Philotus's, the In­heritance of the immense Riches of his Brother-in-Law, a Grandeur o'retopping his, induc'd him to press his Execution. Thus does Interest triumph in base Spirits over Duty and Friendship; thus is private hatred co­ver'd with the Vail of Justice; thus are the Sacred Laws of Equity made Instruments of Wrath and Venge­ance.

Certainly Alexander merits eternal Praise for with-holding Caenus his Hand. Though he ardently desir'd Philotas his Death, he defers it till the Army, that might have declar'd him innocent, has had perfect intel­ligence of his Crime. He rather chuses to rescue Philotas from being tortur'd, and to deliver him over to be judged by the Macedonians, than to oppress him by his own Autho­rity.

Alexander having ended his Ac­cusation, withdrew from the Assem­bly. [Page 55] A Prince should never be pre­sent at the condemnation of a Cri­minal, nor at any thing else that may make him be esteemed cruel and in­sensible. So that leaving to the Judges the liberty of Condemning or Absolving, he will acquire himself in the Hearts of the People, the re­putation of being Just. He will a­void likewise shewing favour to the Criminal, which 'tis dangerous to refuse, being requested by an Assem­bly touched with Compassion. Tho severity in a Prince, when it pro­ceeds not to cruelty, as in my Opi­nion more proper than Clemency, to attract the Fear and Love of his Sub­jects; it concerns nevertheless the Policy of a great Monarch seldom to refuse these sorts of Favours, which are a great proof of his Power and Bounty. But it concerns his Pru­dence too, to avoid the persecution of the Criminal's Friends or Rela­tions, by a prompt execution of the Sentence passed by the Judges.

Philotas having liberty to speak, said thus:

‘As naked Truth, without dis­guise, has much more force than an Eloquent and Elaborate Discourse, so Innocence ought not to seek out words for its Defence. I should have held my peace, had not the King, who was forestall'd, incensed you against me; his Speech is a Sen­tence of Death, which now to en­deavour to make him revoke, is to call him Cruel and Unjust. So that considering I must condemn Alex­ander's Judgment, I cannot resolve to ask for Absolution. His ab­sence declares that my destruction is resolv'd upon; and what can I hope for, if the best of my Judges be inexorable? However Philotas shall not die without clearing him­self of the Crime he stands charg'd with. What Proof have they? Am I of the number of the Con­spirators? Did Nicomachus name me to his Brother, or Dymnus to Ni­comachus? [Page 57] Who inquiring after the Names of those that had conspir'd the Death of Alexander, and the Order of the Conspiracy; the other ingages in it through the con­sideration of their Birth and Me­rit: How could Dymnus then for­get me, that am thought their Head? Did he fear destroying me? He that had so great a confidence in Nico­machus; he, I say, that ventur'd with him his own Life, and the Lives of his best Friends? Ceballi­nus the only Witness against me, is not of the Conspiracy, can he be­lieve that I am? he that discover'd it to me? Dymnus is dead, he never nam'd me. His Confederates sur­viving him, may hope for Pardon, if they can cast their Crime on me. Yet there's none accuses me. What! cannot Tortures wrest the Truth from them, to whom, as 'tis com­mon to the Miserable, the ingaging others in their Misfortunes, would be some comfort? Do they believe, [Page 58] in the condition I am in, abandon'd, condemn'd, I am able to deliver them from their Tortures? So you see, Fellow-Souldiers, the truth of the first Crime I am accus'd of. I come now to the second; The King says, I daigned not to adver­tise him of the imminent Peril that threatned him; I was not at all troubled at it. 'Tis true, Sir, I was to blame, but you have par­don'd me. You invited me to Sup with you in token of a Reconcilia­tion. At least you ought not to condemn me without hearing my Defence. What new Crime have I committed? Whence comes my Disgrace since yesterday-evening? I expected nothing less than this dismal change. The Wicked are continually troubled with the Image of their Crime. Their Souls agita­ted with a thousand different Thoughts, keep them perpetually alarm'd, press'd with remorse of Conscience, they seek for their se­curity. [Page 59] The ease Attarras found in apprehending me, discovers the lit­tle care I took of my preservation. When he bound me with Chains, I was in a deep sleep; I rely'd upon the credit of your word; I feared not that the malice of my Enemies should prevail with your Clemency. Further, Sir, could I fear any thing as to your Life, upon the bare re­port of a Youth of no Reputation, who destitute of all proof, could do nothing but make a vain Alarm. I suspected him too, because he came not to me himself; and look'd on it as some private revenge, not fit for me to meddle with. I feared likewise, that he might deny what he had told Ceballinus, and that I might have nothing but regret, for so lightly committing the chief Of­ficers of the Court. But for all these Precautions, I am sacrific'd to those I have spar'd. 'Tis objected, Dymnus anticipated his Punishment by a voluntary Death. Knew I [Page 60] that he would kill himself? If Cebal­linus his Relation have no other ground but this, what does it prove against me? Again, had I bin a Confederate, how could I have bin so quiet two days after the Conspi­racy was detected? I could easily have dispatch'd Ceballinus, or hast­en'd the stroke. I was alone with the King in his Chamber; who could have hinder'd me? Did I want Dymnus his presence? 'Twas he then that was the Head of the Conspiracy, and yet 'tis I, as is said, that would have made my self King of Macedonia. Whom among you, Fellow-Souldiers, have I endea­vour'd to corrupt? On whom have I bestowed Presents? What Officers are there more than ordinary sensi­ble of my Favours? I am re­proached for despising the Language of Macedonians: What likelihood is there of it, if I intend to make my self their King. You know ve­ry well, that since we have left our [Page 61] own Country, and have learnt strange Tongues, 'tis to all of us some trouble to speak our own. Alexander himself uses it not; therefore he despises the Macedoni­ans. In truth, all these Reproaches are but light, as well as that of be­ing a Friend to Amyntas, who con­spired against Alexander. If it be a Crime to be a Friend to a King's Brother, I am guilty; but if his Birth ingag'd me in those Senti­ments for him, can I not be inno­cent, because I did not divine? What justice is there, that the Frieds of the Guilty should be pu­nish'd with them? I ought to have died long since had this Friendship bin a Crime: and if it be not, Why is it brought in for my destruction? But I pitied the condition of those that were to live under the Go­vernment of a Man that equall'd himself to the Gods. 'Tis true, I wrote thus to Alexander; but told I it any else? Gave he me not the [Page 62] liberty to discover my Sentiments to him? Had I not reason to fear that his Vanity might render him odious to his People? If he have such Faith in the Oracle, let him consult it touching my Crime: Ju­piter will never conceal a Secret of such consequence to his Son's Life. And if you'l rather trust to Tor­tures, I am ready to undergo them. My misfortunes dispence with my introducing my Relations. I had two Brothers, they both died in Battel for Alexander's and Your Glory. I have only a Father left, accus'd of the same Crime with me; neither the Grandeur of his Servi­ces, the consideration of his Age, nor his passion for the King, pre­vailing against the cruelty of those that envy him. Miserable Wretch! must I then, dear Father, be the cause of your Death? Did you give me Life to deprive you of yours? Is this the Recompence of so many Battels gain'd? of so much [Page 63] Blood spilt in your Family? Is this the Comfort you expected from me in your last days? Nature was rea­dy to redemand your Life full of Glory; in the next Battel, the Grandeur of your Courage would have laid you bleeding in the midst of your Trophies; but your Enemies not contented to deprive you of an only Son, envy you the glory of a Death that would have render'd you immortal. But, tell me, was Parme­nio himself believ'd, when he wrote to Alexander, how that Philip his Physician, corrupted by Darius his Gifts and Promises, had ingag'd to poison him? The King gave so lit­tle credit to his Letter, that he gave it Philip to read whilst he took his Physick, to mock, as it were, at my Father's credulity. I have made my self too the Subject of Rallery, for having too lightly believed things more probable than what Ceballinus inform'd me. If I give Information, I make my self ridi­culous; [Page 64] if I hold my Peace, I am look'd on as a Criminal; what should I do them?’

Presently one of the Company cry'd out; Not conspire against the Life of your Prince and Benefactor. ‘Who­soever thou art, thou hast spoken wisely, (answered Philotas) and if I am guilty of that Crime, I con­demn my self to the worst of pu­nishments. And here I make an end, since you seem unmov'd at the consideration of my Misfor­tunes, and my last words have kindled your Choler.’

Philotas his last words seemed nei­ther to proceed from a Man that was innocent, nor from one that had that courage he should have in the worst of Fortunes. A good Conscience never despairs in bad Fortune; had but Philotas, guilty as he was, had the confidence to answer with more vigor, his Innocence would not have bin doubted, the Souldiers would have bin incited to compassion. A [Page 65] bold and resolute word, utter'd in the midst of the horrors of Death, has preserv'd many a Criminal's Life. Nothing so easily perswades a multi­tude, as the constancy of a great courage. Without doubt Philotas his Tears and Fainting were Testi­monies of his Crime, as they were tokens of his Despair or Repen­tance.

His Guards had no sooner con­vey'd him from the Assembly, but Belon, a stern Man, and of a base Extract, who had rais'd himself to several Charges by his Valour, spake to the Souldiers with greater animo­sity against Philotas, than had bin observed in Alexander, in manner following.

‘Is it possible that Macedonians, who have always abhor'd Treache­ry, should be touch'd with com­passion for a Traitor to his King and Country? What has he done to deserve your Clemency? Have you not had sufficient proof of his [Page 66] Pride, of his Cruelty, of the Im­pudence of his Domesticks? How often, when we have bin tired, has he interrupted our repose, by the noise of a number of Slaves fol­lowing at his Heels? He that drove the Macedonians from his Tent, because he would have no noise? Which of you could ever speak to him without an Interpreter, as if he only were born in Macedonia, and all of us Barbarians? Did he ever make you sensible of his Fa­vours? He that after Battel always loaded his Wagons with the Fruit of our Labours, and our Conquests? May we not be asham'd that we have hitherto continu'd his Slaves, who has so long abused the King's Favour, and our Patience? He would have Hammon tell the truth, and yet he reckoned him an Impo­stor for owning Alexander for his Son. Did this Traitor consult Ju­piter, when he conspired against the Life of his King? He would only [Page 67] gain [...]im [...] to give his Father Intelli­gence, that he may come down up­on us with all the Forces he can raise in Media. Let us send to the Oracle, not to search a Truth we are already sufficiently inform'd of, but to return thanks for Alexander's being preserv'd from the Snares of this Traitor.’

There needed not all this to in­cense the Assembly; there was none appeared concern'd for Philotas his misery; they all unanimously breath'd Revenge; the King's Guard cried out, They should let them tear the Par­ricide in pieces. But his Enemies re­serv'd him for more cruel Tortures. The King having refer'd his Sentence till the next day, called a Council, to advise whether it were better to have him first tortur'd, or immedi­ately delivered over to be Ston'd. This last Opinion was most humane, and had bin followed, but that the cruelty of Hephaestion, Craterus, and Caenus was more prevalent. They [Page 68] were for having him tortured, and charg'd themselves with the execu­tion. All the Instruments of Tor­ture were set before Philotas his Eyes; at which the miserable Wreth shaking for fear, cried out, ‘That Rack was needless, since he con­fess'd his Crime; that he had con­spir'd against the Life of Alexan­der; that he would have taken it from him if he could; that they should therefore speedily give him the Death he deserved.’

But Craterus, glad of an oppor­tunity to exercise his private re­venge, persisted in it, that they must extort from him who were his Con­federates. In vain did he implore the Gods of his Country, and the King's Mercy. He was put to the Rack; his Judges were his Enemies and Tormentors; Scourges and Fire could hardly satisfy their fury. A strange thing! Philotas but a little before despairing at the sight of his Punishment, was, as it were, insensi­ble [Page 69] in the midst of Torment. The pain he endur'd, could not wrest one word from him; and he suffered all that cruelty and vengeance could in­vent, till such time, as mangled all over, he promised to discover what he knew. His Tormentors were or­dered to retire; Then addressing himself to Craterus, Tell me, says he, what thou wouldst have me say.

There's no greater trouble, than that of being exposed to the ven­geance of Enemies; the Soul feels greater pain, than the Body groaning under the cruelty of Tortures. Phi­lotas, who indured the Rack with­out giving one groan, could not re­frain his Choler. Craterus not well brooking this derision, calls again for his Tormentors. Then Philotas, vanquish'd by the rigor of his Stripes, and infeebled by the great quantity of Blood he had lost, demanded re­spit, and began afterwards to tell them, ‘how that Hegelochus, a Man of courage, and ambitious, who [Page 70] died at the last Battel, not induring to worship Alexander as the Son of Jupiter, resolved to take away his Life; and not being able, continu'd he, to accomplish so great a Design himself, he endeavour'd to engage my Father and me it. What, said Hegelochus, shall we live under the tyranny of a Monster? Who, though he is the wicked'st of Men, is not asham'd to trace his Original from the Gods? If he have the con­fidence to abuse Jupiter himself, then what can we expect from his Vanity? His Pride was insupporta­ble to us before the Oracle's an­answer; and since, 'tis grown to that height of insolence, that not content with our Blood and Lives, he requires from us a base complai­sance, nothing l [...]ss than adoration. Parmenio, pursu'd Philota, was very much astonished at this Dis­course; the next day he talk'd with me about it, and not knowing whether Hegelochus had bin trans­ported [Page 71] with Choler, or warmed with Wine, he sent a Messenger to desire him to come to him. Being come, he said the same he had done the Evening before, and as it seem'd, with more resolution, adding, That if we would be the chief of the Conspiracy, he would undertake to execute it. Parmenio and I having given him our Faith, thought it best to wait till the death of Da­rius, that all the Orient might be the reward of that Enterprize. As for that of Dymnus, I swear by the Life of Alexander, I never knew any thing of it: And why should I disown an Attempt, that would be no greater Crime than the other.’

His Judges thought he had not said enough yet. They had him tortur'd a-fresh; and Craterus, who had not fully satisfied his revenge, was glad of having further time to exercise his fury against him. In fine, Philotas finding himself no longer [Page 72] able to undergo the violence of his Tortures, confess'd, ‘That he was the Head of that last Conspiracy, that his Fathers Age and Authority had equally induc'd him to it; that seeing him Head of a powerful Ar­my, Master of Media, and the King's Treasury; and fearing fur­ther, that if he did not make haste, Parmenio's Death might deprive him of the opportunity of making himself King, he had conceived this execrable Design: As for the rest, that Parmenio was no ways guilty; that he never had communicated his Intention to him; for proof of which, they might, if they would, put him again to the Rack.’

His Judges fearing he might ex­pire in his Tortures, were oblig'd to let them cease, to reserve him for a death more ignominious, as it was publick. They returned therefore to the King, and acquainted him with the Criminal's Confession. Alexander commanded them to bring him the [Page 73] next day to the Assembly, desiring that he might own what he had said in the presence of the Macedonians. Philotas his Deposition was then publickly read, and acknowledged by him; and Demetrius, one of his principal Confederates, was introduc'd. Never did the most Innocent Man appear more concern'd for a Reproach cast upon him, than Demetrius, guilty as he was, seem'd offended at the Exa­mination made into his Crime: which he disown'd with all the confidence of a good Conscience, and proffer'd himself to be rack'd to shew his In­nocence. His impudence stir'd up Philotas his Choler, who looking round about him, spied a young Man called Calis, and asked him, How he could suffer Demetrius to stand so impudently in a Lye? Calis, whose imprudence brought him thither, knew not what to answer: and the Macedonians believed that Philotas accus'd as well the Innocent as Guil­ty. But as soon as the Youth saw [Page 74] himself incompass'd with Guards, he confess'd his Crime, and charg'd De­metrius.

Calis his Confession, shews how false it is what some Authors have written touching Philotas his Inno­cence; For how could he know that this young Man was of the Conspi­racy, if he were not in it himself, since neither Ceballinus, nor Nicoma­chus nam'd him?

Pholotas and all his Confederates, according to the custom of Macedo­nia, were immediately slain with Stones, whilst this miserable Wretch had the power to disown so detesta­ble a Crime. The Souldiers were touch'd with his Misfortune. A lit­tle more constancy would have sav'd him from Death. 'Tis most certain Alexander ran the risk of losing his Life, and of seeing all his Souldiers revolt. They were inclined to Se­dition; they pitied the deplorable Condition of Parmenio, whom they loved as their Father; and his Son [Page 75] had never bin sacrificed to the fury of his Enemies, had he but conti­nued firm. But when they saw that he confess'd Conspiracy upon Con­spiracy, Crime upon Crime, their Pity was converted into Rage, and they all massacred him as a Parri­cide.

The Macedonians had a cruel custom; When any of them was convicted for conspiring the Death of their King, that attempt was not only punish'd in the Person of the Criminal, but his Relations receiv'd the same Punish­ment. Almost all the Persons of Quality, and brave Souldiers in A­lexander's Army, were either Philo­tas his Relations, Friends, or Con­federates. For fear of meeting with the same Entertainment, some of them provided for their security by flight; and others despairing of theirs, kill'd themselves. Without doubt the mis­fortune of so many brave Men would have rais'd a tumult in the Camp, had not Alexander proclaim'd a Pardon [Page 76] to all the Conspirators Relations.

Amyntas and Simmias were excepted. The flight of Polemon, their younger Brother, was the pretext of their disgrace; the true cause, the strict friendship they had always had with Philotas. The King on his account bestowed several Favors on them; and the care this unfortunate Man took to raise his Friends, brought them into the same misery with him­self. Alexander perswading himself that they were of the Conspiracy, endeavour'd to have them condemn'd as well as the rest. He represented therefore to his Souldiers, ‘That he had reason long since to suspect the fidelity of Amyntas and his Bro­thers; that his Mother Olympias had given him notice of their evil In­tentions; that the private Confe­rences between them and Philotas increased his suspicion; that the flight of their Brother was the effect of a bad Conscience; that they had bin all three not long since with [Page 77] him, had dismiss'd the rest of their Company, and would have execu­ted their Design, but that the Guards coming in prevented them; that the day before Philotas was taken; Antiphanes, Commissary of the Horse, having demanded Horses from Amyntas for those that wan­ted them, he had insolently refus'd them, and threatned him besides; that this arrogancy could proceed from nothing else but their conspi­ring his Death, and the hopes they had of accomplishing their Design on the Morrow. That in fine, after so many proofs of their perfidious­ness, there was no place left for Doubts.’

Amyntas was brought forth into the presence of the Army, and having obtained liberty to defend himself, he desired that his Chains might be taken off, and a Javelin given him; which was done accordingly as a sure presage of favour; for these badges of Honour give encouragement to [Page 78] speak, whereas a Criminal groaning under the weight of his Chains, com­monly makes but a languishing ha­rangue, of little efficacy to stir up the compassion of his Judges.

Amyntas, full of hopes, represented, ‘That the friendship he had with Philotas, could not with justice be imputed to him as a Crime; that after that manner the chiefest of the Court would be found guilty; that from that height of Fortune the favour of Alexander had seated him in, he had attracted the respect or envy of every one; that none be­ing able to purchase the King's Fa­vour, if he were not supported by the friendship and protection of Philotas, 'twas no strange thing that every one should court him; that they had with Alexander esteem'd his Zeal, his Courage, the Grandeur of his Services, his Fa­ther's Merit, but that they detested his Crime; that they had had pri­vate Conferences with him, but that [Page 79] this had bin all along their custom. In fine, That they had hated Philo­tas when they knew him a Parricide and disloyal, as much as they had loved him whilst a happy Favorite, and Arbiter of the Fortune of the Macedonians. He added, That if he were guilty for refusing Horses to Antiphanes, the other was no less for demanding them; that he had but two, which Antiphanes would have taken away by force, though he could not spare them without being reduced to the necessity of fighting on foot among the Caval­ry. For the rest, that the suspici­ons of Olympias were to be suspect­ed, for that being sent into Mace­donia, he had, by Alexander's Or­der, drawn out Troops thence, con­trary to the Queen's pleasure; that from his Obedience and Services, sprang the resentment of Olympias, that they should therefore punish him for having faithfully served his King, and obeyed his Orders.’

Amyntas was interrupted by the noise of those that brought back his Brother Polemon bound in Chains. The Multitude seeing him in the con­dition of a Criminal, could hardly forbear stoning him. But the young Man, for despair of having thus ex­posed his Brothers, proffer'd to die, on condition their Lives might be preserv'd. As he was extream beau­tiful, and had committed no other Fault but flying, all the Souldiers were so mov'd at his Repentance, that they unanimously cried out, These brave Men deserved their Pardon. Alexander was prevail'd with, but Amyntas was inexorable; the King commanded him at last to forgive Polemon, as he had done, and so dis­miss'd the Assembly.

Polydamus was Parmenio's chiefest Friend; in Battel he had him always at his side, to make him, as it were, participant of his Glory; he had in­rich'd him with his Favours, and had more confidence in him than any. [Page 81] Alexander causing him to be called, commanded him to bring in his Bro­thers, whom he kept as Hostages, and spake to him in manner follow­ing.

‘Parmenio's attempt has wrong'd you more than any, for under sha­dow of Justice and Zeal for my Ser­vice, he has particularly oblig'd you to his Interests. All his Favours, all his Friendship tended to no other end than to corrupt you, and to render you a Complice to his Treachery. 'Tis you therefore that must revenge his Infidelity, and the Ingratitude he has shewn towards me. See what con­fidence I have in you, that I have chosen you to carry these Letters to my Lieutenants in Media. You shall present two to Parmenio, one from me, and one from his Son, for I have his Seal; he will not doubt of any thing when he sees you. In the mean time I will keep your Bro­thers, as Pledges to assure me of your Faith; and when you have [Page 82] executed my Orders, your fidelity shall be rewarded.’

Polydamas was so allarm'd when the King caused him to be called, and commanded him to bring in his Bro­thers, that he utterly despaired of Life, because of the intimate friend­ship between him and Parmenio. Thinking therefore on nothing more than the danger he had escaped, and forgetting what he owed his Friend, he promised Alexander more than he required. Here you may observe the Frailty of Court-friendship. In­terest gives it its Original, and For­tune changes it every moment: If you are happy, you are ador'd; if you are miserable, you are insulted over.

Polydamus imploys all diligence, arrives in Media by Night, and in­stantly delivers the King's Letters to his Lieutenants. Upon which they immediately assemble in Cleander's A­partment, and deliberate on means to take away Parmenio's Life. They [Page 83] resolved therefore to go to him the next day all in Company, to execute Alexander's Orders.

Unfortunate Parmenio was walk­ing with them in a Park, when Poly­damus, whom he had sent for, was brought unto him. He runs presently to imbrace him, and being glad to hear from his King, and to see his Friend, he receives him with extream joy. Polydamas having given him Alexander's Letter, Parmenio after he had read it, told them, ‘That he could not but admire that the King, after so many Conquests, should yet think of subduing the Arachosians; That it was now time for him to return into Macedonia, there in quiet to enjoy his Victories, and the Glory he had acquir'd. After which,’ as he was reading Philotas his Letter with great pleasure, Cleander thrust him into the Bosom with his Poniard and gave him another stab in the Throat.

Thus expir'd Parmenio and Philo­tas, [Page 84] both of great credit in the Ar­my, both intimate Friends of Alex­ander, the most puissant of all the Nobility of the Empire; the bravest of Captains; the most illustrious a­mong the Macedonians. The death of Philotas was miserable, full of pain and infamy; that of Parmenio more cruel, unjust, and ominous to Alexander's Life, who afterwards could find no Captain of that valour and experience in his whole Empire, nor found he afterwards the same zeal and affection from his Souldiers, and the chief of his Nobility.

We all die alike, but Death is not equally grievous to us all. If it be the end of our Miseries, we desire it, we seek it, we run to it; but if it terminate a Life full of Happiness, Grandeur, Glory, and Delights, it fills us with despair. Parmenio had liv'd seventy Years in all prosperity, he had expos'd himself to several Dangers in his King's Service; he had bin the Companion of his Victories, [Page 85] and had done many glorious Actions worthy the envy of Kings; illustri­ous both in Peace and War: he died assassin'd by his Confidents, upon Su­spicions not well clear'd, and by Alex­ander's Order, who was indebted to him for his Empire.

There's nothing more fit to com­pare the Courts of Princes to than the Sea. There's no greater pleasure than to fail on this Element during a Calm. Some Voyages by Sea are as pleasant as profitable; but 'tis dan­gerous to make them a Profession, since early or late one must perish in them. You'l say there's this diffe­rence, That it is not in the power of Man to lay a Storm, but that the Sage can in Princes Courts moderate his Passions, and not suffer himself to be carried away with too much Ambiti­on. Teach us this Lesson your self, and shew us how to curb Envy.

Some small reflection upon Philotas his Conspiracy, will easily inform us how much more difficult it is for a [Page 86] Courtier, elevated to the highest pitch of Favour, to moderate his Ambition, than for another who has every thing yet to wish for. Never­theless the latter has but one step to the accomplishment of Grandeur, and the former is infinitely distant from it. The highest fortune of a Mini­ster differs as far from Royalty, as Su­pream Power from the obedience of Subjects. 'Tis therefore a folly to think the ascent to a Throne easy for being near it.

THE CONSPIRACY OF HERMOLAUS.

THe consideration of a Danger happily avoided, renders the Sage more moderate and cautious; whereas all the effect it has on a Sa­vage Spirit, is to make it more extra­vagant, rash, and arrogant. The fear Alexander had of the last Conspiracy, was like that of those who see the falling of a Thunder-Bolt without receiving any dammage. They fear just at that moment, and presently forget the Danger; like those that come to themselves from Swooning, incapable to make reflection on an evil they have not felt. Add to this [Page 88] that Confidence more dangerous than the Peril it self, and so common to Man, whereby he fears not a Danger past, though when imminent it nar­rowly concern'd his Life. Some yet more irrational, are so forestalled with their good Fortune, that they imagine themselves above Fate, and such are oftentimes reserv'd for a tragical and miserable Catastrophe.

Alexander grew so outragious af­ter the death of Parmenio, that he knew no Limits; the risk he ran in the last Conspiracy, render'd him less provident, he thought he might for the future freely injure the Macedo­nians. The facility wherewith he had quell'd Parmenio and Philotas, made him more bold and insolent; he thought himself King indeed, when he saw that he was Arbiter of his Subjects Lives, and that there was nothing more to be done to place himself beyond the reach of Envy, than to shed the best Blood in Ma­cedonia. The more you commend the [Page 89] vanity of great Ones, the more are they in love with it; the more Blood a Tyrant sheds, the more is he desi­rous of shedding it.

Lyncestes Alexander had bin im­prison'd three Years, upon an Accu­sation of two Witnesses, for conspi­ring against the Life of Alexander; the Reason his Punishment had bin so long defer'd was, because he was the first that saluted Alexander King after the death of Philip. Antipater, Lyncestes his Father-in-Law, was Go­vernor of Macedonia; and it seem'd very probable, that the intercession of one that was Master of so flou­rishing a Kingdom, should have su­spended his execution a far longer time. But Alexander would no lon­ger hearken to Policy: an insatiable desire of revenge carried him on to­wards his own ruin. He caused therefore the Criminal to be brought forth, accused only by two Persons, and had him dispatch'd according to their custom.

The Chief of the Macedonians perceived presently that Alexander grew more cruel from day to day, and began to fear for themselves. They were ready to think, that the Heavens provok'd by the King's va­nity, who dared equal himself to the Gods, had inspir'd Philotas with the desire of taking away his Life. How­ever they spread this Rumor through the Army, the easier to engage the Souldiers to a revolt.

The remembrance of Parmenio's Merit, and Philotas his Misfortune, who died in the flower of his Age, had al­ready excited pity in the Macedonians. In the one they thought they had lost the Protector of their Liberty, the Avenger of the Gods and of their Country; in the other a Captain of rare Valour, without whom Alex­ander could do nothing that was great. These seditious Discourses would have forg'd a Rebellion, had not the King caused his Army to march against the Arachosians. With­out [Page 91] doubt that was the only means to dissipate all ill Designs. Idleness spoils the Souldiers Spirits, but all these murmurs vanish at the first sound of the Trumpet.

Nevertheless Alexander's Conduct might well have made such brave Men desperate. For having known that several highly resented Parme­nio's Death, he form'd them into a Body, and made Leonidas their Cap­tain, ordering them to incamp sepa­rately from the rest, as it were, out of ignominy. It was not to be feared that their seditious Discourses should have corrupted the rest of the Ma­cedonians; for, as is the custom of Souldiers, Martial Liberty, and the joy of new Conquests, would have laid their Anger and their Malice.

In the mean while Alexander a­bandon'd himself to all sorts of Vi­ces. The irregularity of his Man­ners increased with his Victories, and his Ambition no longer curb'd by Vertue, carried him to that excess of [Page 92] Pride, as to require from the Mace­donians and Persians Divine Honours. I cannot but pity the weakness and vanity of this Prince. Could he think the Macedonians would wor­ship as a God, one born of Philip and Olympias, subject to the same In­firmities with other Men? These Heroës, whom Antiquity has placed in the Heavens, lived in such sort, that Posterity reckon'd them in the number of the Gods after their Death; and if during their Life they should have required from Men Ado­ration and Divine Worship, without doubt they would have render'd themselves despicable and ridiculous to the whole World. The Sages forbore not to scoff at those false Di­vinities; and the more enlightned Pagans have themselves laugh'd at their own Religion.

Alexander presum'd too much up­on the Grandeur of his Actions: the Persians, and other strange Nations, might well admire them; but the [Page 93] Macedonians could do no more than praise his Conduct and his Courage. Those that run the same danger, are willing to participate with the Gene­ral in the Glory of the Conflict, and suffer with regret that any one should attribute to himself the ho­nour of the Victory. But if he were so intent to elevate himself a­bove the condition of Men, why was he not more diligent to gain respect from his People? It is not for the Majesty of a Prince to make himself too publick: if he will be ador'd, he must separate himself from the Com­merce of the World.

The old Macedonian Captains taking it ill that Alexander should publickly debase his Father's Glory, scoffed at his Pride and pretended Divinity. Which so incensed him, that he kill'd Clitus, his Nourses Son, with a Javelin. This great Warrier, who had sav'd his Life at the Battel of Granicus, suffered with regret his so outragiously attacking the Memo­ry [Page 94] of Philip, and abhor'd his Vanity, and the enormity of his Crimes. Nei­ther was he without a Second; Ca­listhenes, who made profession of Wisdom, declar'd himself more open­ly: for as Cleo one day, at Table with the chief of the Macedonians and Persians, propounded to render Divine Honour to Alexander; This Philosopher answered him with his usual freedom, ‘That it was not in the power of Men to make a God, that they could hardly make a King; and that the Persians would be their Conquerors, if they followed them in their barbarous Customs.’ The freedom that Polypercon took was yet greater, who seeing a Persian wor­shipping the King, began to laugh, and throwing him upon his Face, bad him bow lower.

All these Scoffs tended to the di­minution of Alexander's Glory: How then could he expect Divine Honour from those that so much contemn'd him? For this he must [Page 95] have chang'd the form of Govern­ment; have made himself absolute Monarch of the Empire; have usurp'd the Macedonian Freedom; have bin Arbiter of their Lives and Fortunes; have dispatch'd his No­bles; and have kept such a distance between himself and his Subjects, as might have made him seem quite dif­ferent from what he was. But if the horror of so great an Impiety, or the necessity he then had for his Captains, permitted him not to ar­rive to that excess of Cruelty; it concern'd his prudence and wisdom to moderate his Ambition; and the friendship of his Nobility would have bin far more glorious, than the adoration of the Persians, proceed­ing from the base complaisance of that Nation.

'Twas this unreasonable Pride which made him again run the risk of losing his Life, which at last pre­cipitated him to his ruin, and has render'd his Memory odious to all [Page 96] Ages. The Death of Calisthenes is certainly deplorable, and a great proof of Alexander's Wickedness, who could not suffer an honest Man in his sight. In fine, he fell on a sudden from that moderation that had made him admir'd and lov'd of every one, to so violent Extrava­gancies, and to so great profusion of Vice, that 'tis no wonder that Her­molaus should have the boldness to conspire his Death.

The Noblemens Children of Ma­cedonia, according to custom, were oblig'd to enter into the King's Ser­vice at fifteen Years of Age. After some Years the Prince promoted them to the highest Charges; of them came Favorites, and the great­est Captains. According to all ap­pearance, these young Nobles were more likely than any to tolerate their Prince's Defects and Govern­ment, as having bin for a long time accustom'd to his Humour, and brought up in his Court as Sons. [Page 97] But as it is impossible intirely to be­reave Lions of their natural fierce­ness; so there is in humane Nature something so fierce and indomitable, that though it may for some time be kept under, it can never be extin­guish'd; there is a self-love which is, as it were, the measure and first mo­ver of all our Affections; there is a Liberty which the weight of Chains cannot bow.

Who could have thought that these young Nobles, having contriv'd a Conspiracy against Alexander, (so much the more dangerous, as they were driven by a desire of Glory, and an implacable hatred) and given each other their Faith, should neither by the caresses of their Prince, nor the inconstancy of their Age, be in­duc'd to violate the same for a long time; all but one observing it intire­ly, which is rare in Traitors.

Alexander being one day a Hunt­ing, Hermolaus, one of his Pages, threw his Dart at a Wild Boar and [Page 98] kill'd him. The King, who was run­ning in to present the Beast with his Spear, conceiving indignation against Hermolaus, caused him to be whipp'd according to the custom of the Ma­cedonians. But this young Noble­man not brooking the Affront, shew'd, that those who are so far ad­vanc'd in Years, as to be able to take up Resolutions beseeming Men of courage, are not to be dealt withal as Children. Nothing is more capa­ble to incite a resolute and ambitious Spirit to revenge, than the receiving shameful Punishment for a bold and generous Action, worthy of a Prince's Applause. Virtue has its Venom; 'tis dangerous to provoke it; we see daily Pity converted into Fury.

Hermolaus in dispair seeks out Ca­listhenes, that wise Philosopher, and enemy to Flattery, famous for his Learning, and the austerity of his Manners. Presently he complains to him with tears of the out-rage he has receiv'd; and 'tis reported, that [Page 99] Calisthenes, whether it were to incite him to revenge, or to comfort him, said to him; Consider, Hermolaus, that thou art now no Child. These words gave him such courage, that from that very instant he conspir'd the death of Alexander.

The Counsel of great Men is held in a Common-Wealth as an Oracle and a Law; whence it comes that a Man esteem'd wise by the Vulgar, can easily raise a Multitude, and cause a great disorder in a State. The more powerful therefore a Man is in Counsel, the more moderate should he be in giving it. Calisthenes, whom every one heard with pleasure, ought to have taken heed to his words more than any, under the reign of a Prince who punish'd the intempe­rance of the Tongue with the se­verest Punishment. He had done like a Man of great Wisdom, if he had only comforted Hermolaus in his disgrace, and not set him on revenge, a young Man apparently incapable [Page 100] of such kind of Enterprizes. One must be certain of the Event; de­stroy ones Enemy, or not attack him.

Hermolaus inflam'd with a desire of Revenge, and not being able to ac­complish it himself, assembles his Companions, and speaks to them in this manner.

‘If the Affront I received only concern'd me, I would only lament my disgrace, and impute it to my bad Fortune. But all the Macedo­nians have part in my Infamy, and it concerns their Glory to take a memorable Revenge. Doubtless the Gods, jealous of their own Grandeur, have suffer'd Alexander, who dares equal himself to them, to deal with us so unworthily, that they might inspire us with a just resentment, and courage to free our selves from this Monster of Pride. Be not deceived, my Companions, I have not bin punish'd according to Law: Alexander could not suf­fer [Page 101] that I should rob him of the Glory of killing a Wild Boar; he has exercised his private Indignati­on; Envy is the only cause of this outrage. I have done a bold Ex­ploit for my Age, fit to be admir'd, and he has treated me like a Slave. What recompence can you now ex­pect for your great Services, if In­gratitude and Ignominy be the Re­ward of Courage? What avails it you, Macedonians, that you have gain'd by the price of your Blood, the Empire of the Universe? Were it not better to be in bondage to the Persians? A generous Action gives a Slave his Liberty, which we lose in the midst of Victories. Hap­pier the Vanquish'd than the Van­quishers, under the Government of a Tyrant? He cannot suffer the Glory of the latter, they are in­cessantly the Object of his Fury, whereas the former come not with­in the reach of Envy. I scruple not to say that Alexander is a Ty­rant. [Page 102] What fitter name can be gi­ven to one that is so greedy of his own Citizens Blood? How shall I find words to express his Impiety, his Cruelty, his Arrogance? Is he not a Monster, to make himself Ar­biter of Mens Lives, and the Glory of the Gods? who would be Ma­ster of our Bodies, and Tyrant o're our Hearts? who not content to reign on Earth, would have com­mand in Heaven? He is not asham'd to require Honours that another would refuse; and because we free Macedonians, laugh at the base com­plaisance of the Persians, he hates us, he lays Snares for us, he oppresses us. See how he recompences those to whom he is indebted for the Em­pire of the East, his Glory and his Life. His insolence ascends to that degree of impiety, as to make us own for the Son of Jupiter, a wicked perfidious Desertor, who forsakes the Laws of his Country to follow the Customs of Barbari­ans; [Page 103] whom we have known born of Olympias; who is jealous of his Father's Glory, and assassinates his best Friends. What do you expect, O generous Souls, a Death as cruel as that of Parmenio and Clitus? Shall we yet sprinkle Alexander's Laurels with our Blood, to be at last like those great Men sacrific'd to his fury? Consider that there is no­thing dearer to miserable Mortals than their Lives; shall we suffer them freely to be taken from us? Why should we not rather secure them by Alexander's Death? So memorable an Action will eternize our glorious Memory to posterity. This Tyrant's Life is in our Hands, the Heavens have given him over to our Vengeance; in us, whom he has cruelly injur'd, he reposes all his confidence; would you have a more convincing proof of the Will and Anger of the Gods? Without doubt 'tis their pleasure to make use of our tender Youth in so bold an [Page 104] Enterprize, to make it known to the World that they are the Au­thors, we only their Instruments. Is there any of you so ill advis'd as to oppose the Gods? Incited by the Heavens, Alexander's insupporta­ble Pride and Cruelty, a [...]m'd, gree­dy of Glory, and full of firm Re­solution, shall we not dare attack a Man without Guards, unarm'd, op­press'd with Crimes, in a deep sleep? I have chosen you, my Compani­ons, from all others, to participate in a Glory that shall never die. Pro­vide for your security, rescue the Liberty of your Country; shake off a Yoke full of Infamy and Pain. Revenge the Gods, revenge your selves, join with me, and put an end to our Calamities.’

This invective of Hermolaus made such an Impression upon the Spirits of those young Nobles, that they presently resolv'd to take away Alex­ander's Life. Sostratus, one of them, who lov'd Hermolaus intirely, could [Page 105] not behold the Marks of his Stripes but with extream grief, and exage­rating the King's Cruelty, his Friends Merit, the Macedonians Disgrace, the injury done the Gods, the necessity of revenging that Affront; he so in­flam'd those young Spirits, already dispos'd for revenge, that they pro­mised interchangeably to be faithful one to another, and became unfaith­ful to Alexander.

So powerful is Religion, that it has an absolute dominion over the Spi­rits. The Fealty Subjects usually swear to their Soveraign, is for the most part inviolable, the People are seized with a Religious Horror when any one breaks his Faith. But we must not mistake, there are two sorts of Religions; the one draws its Original from Heaven, and being wholly Divine, has a secret force to make us do good; the other is foun­ded on humane fear and frailty: al­most all our inward Motions have no other Rule but this imperfect Reli­gion; [Page 106] our obedience to the Laws and Magistrates, proceeds from the fear we have of Magistrates and of the Laws. When this Fear ceases in the Heart of Man, Religion ceases too. You see Hermolaus and Sostra­tus perswade their Companions that the Gods approve of their Re­venge, and conspire together with them, and upon that account they banish from their Hearts that fear which the Power of the Laws had till then maintained in them; they are no longer restrain'd by that Re­ligion that is wholly Celestial; the Gods in their Opinion are offended at the Affront given them, they think to revenge them in revenging them­selves.

Confederates with Hermolaus and Sostratus were, Nicostratus, Antipater, Asclepiodorus, Philotas, Articles, Elap­tonius, and Epimenes. At the very first they met with an Obstacle in their way. They foresaw, because they could not be all on the Guard at [Page 107] once, that it would be difficult for them to execute their Design. But at last, by changing the order of the Guards, they brought it about that they were one Night altogether a­lone in the Palace. 'Tis a wonder that in two and thirty days, (the time they imploy'd in taking their Measures) not one of them should reveal a Secret intrusted to so ma­ny.

Souls truly generous, which act only out of a desire of Glory, are most capable of silence. 'Twas only their Animosity against the King, and the Honour they thought would re­dound to them from that Action, that induc'd them to their Revenge. Am­bition, and Interest, had no share in it; for then likewise when Riches, or some alteration in Affairs are ex­pected, the fear of losing what is al­ready possess'd, injoyns secresy. Those act with great courage, their desires increase with the danger, and every moment seems to them an Age. [Page 108] These act nothing without Fear, at the point of Execution they trem­ble, and the dread of Punishment makes them think of their own and their Prince's preservation.

The Night came, in which the Conspirators intended, by treachery, to spoil Alexander of his Life; they stood waiting at the Door, whilst the King was at Supper, for his com­ing out to go to Bed. On the one hand they were glad to see him sit at Table longer than ordinary, imagin­ing that it would be easier for them to dispatch him, charg'd with Wine and Sleep. On the other, they feared that the pleasure of the Repast might retain him till it were day, and that other Guards taking their places, they might be forced to defer the execution of their Design eight days longer, which put them into strange disquiets. In fine, Alexander retires, and the Conspirators think them­selves certain of their Enterprize. Let a prudent and wise Man order [Page 109] things with the exactest diligence and greatest caution, neither his caution nor his diligence shall be able to change the course of Fortune. For­tune in my opinion is no vain ima­ginary thing; 'tis an assembling of certain Circumstances, which neither our Wisdom can unite or separate; and 'tis great rashness to presume to change the order of Fate.

Just as Alexander was going to Bed, a Woman, accounted Foolish, who used to foretel things to come, came and told him, that he was threatned with some danger, and that he should return and spend the rest of the Night at Table. Whether it were that the King was troubled at this Discourse, or that his own In­clination perswaded him to debauch, he said, 'twas good to follow the Counsel of the Gods, and caus'd his Company to be called back.

I know not why the Law forbids to give credit to those that pretend to foretel things to come. A number [Page 110] of Events foreseen several Ages be­fore they happen'd, may perswade us that this Science is not altogether vain. Yet notwithstanding we must be subject to the Law, as it is the emanation of the Wisdom of God, and not believe Histories, which are oftentimes no other than meer hu­mane Fictions.

As soon as it was day, the Guards, according to custom, were reliev'd; which notwithstanding the Conspira­tors, whom a vehement desire of re­venge push'd on to the execution of their Design, would continue still. The King perswaded that they were willing to give him a proof of their Obedience and Affection, praised their Zeal, and sending them to take their Rest, ordered fifty thousand Sesterces a Man to be given them.

What cannot a generous Action work upon the Spirit of Man? What cannot the Favours of a King effect with a Soul never so passionate? An insatiable desire of Avarice causes [Page 111] daily a thousand base Actions, a thou­sand Treacheries; how much grea­ter is the force of Liberality, that excites acknowledgment from the most ingrate, that reclaims the cruel­ty of Tyrants, that appeases the An­ger of the Gods. If Riches in the corruption of the Age we live in serve to cover the infamy of the wicked, will not Vertue, think you, accompanied with the Goods of For­tune, appear with greater luster? What wonder then if it be of greater force to attract the Hearts of Men? Without doubt Vice would not reign on Earth, if Vertue were but recompenced. Here Princes should bestow their Favours; this is the true means to secure themselves the Fide­lity of their Subjects. The desire of Man having no other Object than Honour and Riches, there's no one but had rather merit them by faith­ful Services, then acquire them trea­cherously. Who is he that would prefer Ignominy before Glory, pu­nishment [Page 112] before a Reward, that that is uncertain, and to come, before the enjoyment of a certain and present good? Two things render a Prince odious, and incline his Subjects to revolt. When he rewards the Ser­vices of the Upright with Ingrati­tude, and vents his Favours on the Wicked and Vicious. The Honest, if they are in misery, seek not to get out of it by ways of Honesty; they esteem them useless; they take the shortest way, and indeavour to in­vest themselves in charges through dissimulation, malice, and base com­plaisance; when flattery and such other indirect means fail them, their Spirits corrupted by new Maxims, and imagining that the Wicked can­not be without a Recompence, prompt them to Violence, Injustice, Treachery, and oftentimes to con­spire their Prince's Death. Princes therefore should seek their security in the Hearts of those that live un­der their Dominion. They should [Page 113] extend their [...]erosity to all their Subjects. Not that a Monarch is ob­lig'd to bestow his Favours equally on all sorts of Persons. Such a mag­nificence would rather attract Con­tempt, than Love and Gratitude. Presents, like Meats, disgust, if they are not season'd with justice and di­stinction of Merit. That Prince can­not be esteemed liberal, that gives indifferently to every one. That's a prodigality, proceeding neither from esteem nor friendship, the only in­gredients to gain Hearts in bestowing Benefits. We have no acknowledg­ment barely upon the account of a Benefit, our Gratitude has a more noble and worthy Object, it consi­ders principally the good Will and Affection of the Giver. But on the other hand, a Prince should avoid being so inconsiderately profuse, as to give so largely to his Favorites, Ministers, or Friends, as to deprive himself of the means to shew them further Favours; nor indeed should [Page 114] he remove them from the necessity of desiring them; for then they grow insolent in their good Fortune, they look on their Prince as an ex­hausted Source, they contemn his Affection grown barren, they fly their Benefactor, they hate him. When a Man is elevated to the highest degree of his Ambition, In­gratitude, and Avarice, are the in­separable Companions of his Pride. A Prince should therefore comfort the Miserable, but not make them happy; do good, but not all the good he can; promote some many degrees above others, but never to the highest.

Epimenes, one of the Conspirators, whether vanquish'd by Alexander's Liberality, as considering that he might expect both a Pardon for his Crime, and an extraordinary Recom­pence besides if he sav'd his King's Life; who for a service of little con­sideration, had given him fifty thou­sand Sesterces; or whether fearing [Page 115] the Anger of the Gods, reveal'd the Conspiracy to his Brother Eurylochus. Who presently carries him to the Pa­lace, and asks to speak with the King. Ptolomaeus and Leonatus, who guarded his Chamber-dore, having learnt from him, that he had some­thing to tell the King that concern'd his Life, warn'd by Philotas his Ex­ample, gave them entrance; though the King after his debauch had need of rest. Presently Epimenes relates the whole Order of the Conspiracy; and Alexander, though frighten'd at the danger he had run, was glad of finding this Pretext to ruin Ca­listhenes. Touching whom he ask'd Eurylochus several times, if he were not a Confederate or Friend to the Conspirators? But Eurylochus could give him no other Answer, than that Calisthenes gave ear to the Invectives of those that spake boldly concern­ing his Conduct and Behaviour. Alexander nevertheless treated him as a Confederate; and calling to mind [Page 116] the freedom of that Philosopher, who had refused to render him Di­vine Honour, he ordered him to be shut up close Prisoner with the Con­spirators.

As Alexander was severe to the Conspirators, so he was liberal and grateful to Eurylochus and Epimenes. To the latter he gave his Life, to the former fifty Talents, and the confis­cation of Tiridates his Goods, who was very rich.

So great Interest has a Prince in recompensing the fidelity of his Sub­jects, that his Favours proceed ra­ther from his Justice than his Libera­lity. As many Favours as he confers, so many Sentinels has he to watch for him. Rewards have greater force than Punishments; and the expecta­tion of Good, than the fear of Evil. The custom of pardoning those, that reveal Crimes themselves are guilty of, is no less ancient than necessary. Impunity rouses the Conscience, causes it to reveal the Treason, and [Page 117] preserves the Life of the Prince. However such Traitors are not to be confided in: and 'tis dangerous to seem to mistrust them; they are like those Animals that are tam'd only for a time, early or late, they return to their first fierceness.

The next day Alexander caused the Conspirators, all but Calisthenes, to be brought forth into the Assem­bly. The Criminals Relations were called, and in their presence the King ask'd those Traitors, What he had done to them to induce them to con­spire his Death? They as resolute, as if they had bin upon the point of executing their Design, answered him boldly, That they were sorry they could not yet take away his Life. These words stirr'd up the Souldiers indig­nation; and they demanded those Parricides to be deliver'd to them.

A Crime, if acknowledged with some Tokens of Repentance, excites compassion; if with impudent Con­fidence, it creates Horror. The [Page 118] Offence it self deserves pardon, the vanity of boasting in it is insufferable. For in this there is malice; the other is a weakness that may be born with.

The King admiring the boldness and contumacy of these Youths, re­presented to them, That he had loved them all as his Children, that not long since they had bin sensible of the effects of his Affection; that they should therefore freely declare the occasion that led them to conceive so detestable a Design.

At these words they began to re­lent; only Hermolaus, with more constancy than a good Conscience could furnish, took the word, and addressing himself to Alexander, Know you not, said he, that we are born free? how comes it then that you handle us like Slaves? A Tyrant, as you are, does not deserve to live. To whom Alexander said, Continue bold­ly what thou hast learnt of thy Master Calisthenes.

‘I accept of thy favour, answer'd Hermolaus; and in giving me leave [Page 119] to speak, thou sufficiently declarest thy impiety. Setting aside all thy other Actions, Can there be a grea­ter proof of thy licentiousness, than the opinion thou hast of the Gran­deur of thy Merit? after having render'd thy self unworthy of protection from the Gods, or the esteem of Men, thou askest, What induc'd us to conspire thy Death? Does there any thing represent it self to my Eyes, or Memory, that does not mind me of thy intolera­ble Vanity, of thy Cruelty, worthy not of one, but a thousand deaths? If I look on thee, I see a Monster of Pride, who disowns great Phi­lip for his Father, and has the inso­lence to call himself the Son of Ju­piter. Nay, such is thy impudence, that thou requirest Worship from us, as if thou wer't really in the number of the Gods, and not the Object of their Fury. If I look upon the Army, I find I am first to make reflection on my self; thou [Page 120] hast used me unworthily for coura­giously killing of a Wild Boar. Af­ter this I must pity the misfortune of so many brave Men, and valiant Captains; thou hast through a cruel Ingratitude inflicted Death on those that have preserv'd thy Life. Was there ever such a Tyranny heard of? Was ever the Virtue, Valour, and Love of Subjects thus rewarded? If I consider the many Provinces we have conquer'd, this great Empire of the Persians, wor­thy of a better Prince, I must own that we our selves are vanquish'd; Strangers are our Masters, thou thy self yieldest to their Laws; their Customs, their Habits, their Man­ners, their Alliances, their Friend­ship and Religion, which thou pre­ferrest before our Laws, sufficiently discover that they are Victors, and thou their Slave. O wretched, O deplorable condition of the Ma­cedonians! Dost thou see now what is the Subject of our Animosity? [Page 121] The only Obligation we have from thee is, That thou wilt this day free us from a Servitude a thousand times more ignominious and cruel than Death to generous Spirits. Happy those whom thou hast cau­sed barbarously to be massacred, Attalus, Lyncestes, Clitus, Parmenio, and Philotas. Had they liv'd, they would yet have groan'd under thy Tyranny; the God's were pleased to withdraw them from a dismal train of miseries that thou inflictest on thy best Friends. It may be thy Affection is seated in the Souldiers, and the common People. O Hea­vens! thirty thousand Mules loaden with Gold, and the riches, spoils of the Enemy, follow in the rear of thy Army, when thy wretched Souldiers, of all their Conquests, retain nothing but Scars, illustrious Marks of their Courage and thy In­gratitude. In fine, thou art no longer King of Macedonia; thou art a Slave to the Persians. Their [Page 120] [...] [Page 121] [...] [Page 122] delicacy pleases thee more than the Macedonian temperance. We just­ly therefore pursue thee as a Deser­tor; and at most, it was not the King of Macedonia, but the King of Persia that we would have kill'd. And you, Macedonians, base Souls, unworthy the Glory of your Ancestors, miserable Slaves to a Tyrant's Pride, Have you not the Hearts to shake off so infamous a Yoke? And you, my Father, that hold your Sword at my Brest, de­serve not to have given Life to such a Son. This day will you acquire by my death a glorious and eternal reputation; suffer me then to speak, and oppose not the liberty granted me from your God. 'Tis because he fears not the words of a Child. Why hearest thou not, Calisthenes? To arrive to the highest pitch of Tyranny, I see thou intendest to suppress in him all the freedom of the Greeks. Think not that he is of the Conspiracy, he never knew [Page 123] any thing of it; and for proof of this we all proffer our selves to be rack'd. Seek some other Pretext to satisfy thy revenge, cut off the only true Macedonian, in whom resides all the virtue of our Ance­stors. For thou hatest the looks of an honest Man. For the rest, par­don the miserable old Age of our Fathers, and confound not the In­nocent with the Guilty. As for us, we die with regret, only for leaving thee alive.’

These Invectives so incens'd the Assembly, that the Souldiers would a hundred times have torn Hermolaus in pieces. His own Father, called Sopolis, sometimes stopp'd his Mouth, sometimes presented his Sword to his Brest to make him hold his peace; but Alexander commanded him to retire. Sopolis his Indignation could not be too great; Men are born Sub­jects before they are Fathers. The tender affection of a Father towards a Son is natural, and cannot be stifled [Page 124] without doing himself extream vio­lence; however, the safety of his Prince is to be preferred before that of his Children; and the Voice of God to be obey'd rather than the Voice of Nature.

Alexander with admirable pati­ence bore all that Hermolaus had said against him, and having seated him­self where he might be heard, he an­swer'd in this manner.

‘Had what this Impostor has said bin true, I could let you have torn him in pieces, and not have heard his Invectives; and were I guilty of those Cruelties he charges me with, I own it I were unworthy to be King of the Macedonians. But what occasion have I given Her­molaus to speak thus of me? Some time since he committed an inso­lence, and I caus'd him to be cha­stised according to our ancient Cu­stom; to hear him speak, you would say, I had cruelly tormented him. What would not his Revenge [Page 125] have done, since for being beaten with a Whip, he could resolve up­on a Parricide? 'Tis no wonder he should have an horrour for the Pu­nishment of Parmenio, of Philotas, of Aitalus, and Lyncestes; in de­fending them he defends himself; he would not be guilty, if those who have committed the same Crime, were declared Innocent. And as for Clitus, I wish I had not bin constrain'd to punish the Intempe­rance of his Tongue. It is not al­ways in our power to use Modera­tion; the clemency of Kings is often times surmounted by the audacity of Subjects; there are certain Injuries that cannot be pardon'd. When Kings are injur'd, they must be ap­peas'd by Submission, and not pro­vok'd through Obstinacy and Pride. I wonder not at all that Hermolaus accuses me of Cruelty, since he has the impudence to accuse me of Ava­rice. I know Princes ought not to bear in mind the Favours they have [Page 126] bestowed on their Subjects, but on­ly the Services they have received from them. I shall not therefore represent unto you, that there are none of you but what are sensible of my Donatives, that would di­minish the price of my Liberality, and the Acknowledgment you owe me. But pray consider whence you had your Beds of Gold and Silver, your Troops of Slaves, your sump­tuous Spoils, and rich Booty. As for the Persians, I confess, that coming into Asia to conquer, not to lay desolate, I cannot resolve to handle as Slaves, a People whose Affection secures my Empire and your Glory; and in this I think I give sufficient proof of my Mode­ration, that I govern them in that manner, that they can have no re­gret at my Victories. Would you be continually employ'd to subdue Provinces already conquer'd, which under an Imperious Dominion would be always revolting? Would [Page 127] you be stopp'd in the mid'st of your Victories by Insurrections, better restrain'd by kind usage than by force of Arms? We should then extirpate whole Nations, and make our selves feared more for our Cru­elty, than our Courage. What glory would it be to the Macedoni­ans to change the Name of Con­querors, for that of Thieves and Murtherers? And after all, what have you to say against those that sight for you? In sine, is not Her­molaus wicked, to scoff at the Ora­cle for owning me a God? Should I refuse a Name so glorious, and op­pose the Will of Jupiter? as if the grandeur of my Actions did not elevate me above Men. Further, in War Reputation is worth an Army; and I could wish for your Glory, that the Indians would be­lieve me a God. But I see very well, this insolent Youth hath said nothing but what he has learnt from his Master Calisthenes, and he would [Page 128] have bin glad to have heard him vent the same Injuries against me in your presence. He is an Olynthian, and therefore I had him not brought in, because the Macedonians only have the Priviledg to be try'd by the Army. As for the Criminals Relations, they shall live and enjoy their Charges; though I should not have let these Parricides know this, that if they had any sentiment of Affection for them, they might die with more regret.’

Alexander is worthy of praise for pardoning the Criminals Relations. It concern'd his Prudence, as well as his Bounty, so to do. And I am ready to think that this Law of the Macedonians, inveloping the Inno­cent with the Guilty, was only made to give terror, without any design of putting it in execution. For what likelihood was there of massa­cring a number of brave Men, highly necessary to the State for their Valour and Experience? I suppose too, in a [Page 129] great Army, it would have bin more dangerous than easy to have con­demn'd them. Laws are to be ap­plied as Medicines, which not rightly used, work a contrary effect, and bring Death instead of curing.

After the King had dismissed the Assembly, the Conspirators were de­liver'd over to their Companions; who, to testify their fidelity, and the horror they had for the Treachery of Parricides, executed them in a cruel manner.

We can learn nothing certain from History concerning the Death of Ca­listhenes. Some write that he died upon the Rack; others, that he en­dur'd the Rack, and was afterwards Crucified; all agree that either he liv'd a most miserable Life, or dy'd a most cruel Death. Certain 'tis, that he was no ways Confederate in the Conspiracy; but he was of a morose humour, inflexible, and very unpro­per for the Court. He would treat with the King upon equal terms, and [Page 130] speak at Court as in the Schools; whence Aristotle said of him, That he had all the Austerity of a Philosopher, all the Eloquence of an Orator, but very little Conduct and Judgment. What­soever may be said, the memory of Alexander will be odious to all Ages, for causing to be executed a Man of an incorruptible probity, excellent in Wisdom and Knowledg, the fairest Ornament of Greece.

THE CONSPIRACY OF ANTIPATER.

NOw are we arrived to the tri­umph of Perfidy; hitherto have bin but vain endeavours. For­tune was vigilant in Alexander's pre­servation; but at last she delivers him over to a Traitor, who by Poi­son hurries him out of the World, that had made himself Master of it.

Antipater is the Man, the more blame-worthy, as Alexander had in­trusted him with the Kingdom of Macedonia. This Prince when he went for Asia, left behind him his Mother Olympias, a Woman haughty, ambitious, cruel; and if we may be­lieve [Page 132] History, Adulterous, and skill'd in Magick. He left her all the Au­thority and State of a great Princess, and commanded Antipater to observe all her Motions; but to do nothing that might shew distrust. The jea­lousy of supream Authority present­ly divided these ambitious Spirits, and the affection of the People. Antipater was the Image of their Prince, Olym­pias his Mother; the Laws of the Kingdom defended Him, Nature pro­tected Her.

Had Alexander foreseen these Dis­cords, he had done like a great Prince, to leave in Macedonia these two Spi­rits jealous one of another. This was the only means in his absence to preserve himself the Kingdom of his Ancestors. To leave his Mother in absolute Authority was dangerous; the Macedonians doubtless would never have yielded Obedience to a Woman; the Grecian Provinces would have revolted; and all the Neighbour Princes, jealous of Alex­ander's [Page 133] Grandeur, would have taken up Arms, and have made use of his absence. On the other hand, it was to be fear'd, that if Antipater were established sole Governor of so pow­erful a Kingdom, Olympias, as the Prince's Mother, might make a Party sufficient to effect the ruin of the State. But the choice Alexander made of these two Persons was not the effect of his Providence. For Antipater having written a Letter to him full of Invectives against Olym­pias, he laugh'd at the reading of it, and said to those then present, That one Tear from his Mother was able to ef­face all the evil Impressions that could be given of her Conduct; that Antipater was a very bad Politician to oppose the Queen's Desires; and that all Greece could not make him suspect her. And Antipater having added, That Cleo­pater, Alexander's Sister, prostituted her self shamefully, and led a very dissolute Life; he answered, That she might make use of her Royal Priviledg. [Page 134] On the other hand, Olympias accused Antipater of Tyranny. Her Policy was to set Alexander against him, and to perswade him, that she had an intire motherly Affection for him, a true Zeal and Passion for his Ser­vice.

Alexander desiring to please his Mother, and suspecting, upon the Advice she had given him, Antipa­ter's Fidelity, takes from him the Go­vernment of Macedonia, and con­fers it on Craterus.

Alexander having therefore taken from Antipater the Government of Macedonia, should either have se­cur'd a Man of so great Credit, or have recompenced his Services. He, on the contrary, instead of sending him away, calls him into the Army, and prefers his Sons, Jollas and Phi­lip, to Charges, not to be intrusted but with those on whom a Prince has showred Favours. In the mean while he continues disaffected to­wards their Father, irritating his [Page 135] Courage, already not well brooking the Affront given him.

Alexander glorying in his Con­quests, meditated vast Designs; the extent of so great an Empire not sa­tisfying his Ambition, he aspir'd to the Monarchy of the Universe. In the mean while Antipater receiving the news of his Disgrace, presently conspires the Death of his King. And remembring the unfortunate Success of the Conspiracies, both of Philo­tas and Hermolaus, he avoided the Precipice into which they fell. He took other measures, and thought Poison an infallible means to dispatch Alexander. Some write that Ari­stotle gave him this Advice. But as for me, I cannot imagine that Philo­sopher capable of so great a Villany against his Pupil, and his King, who had loaded him with Favours. The Example of Seneca, who according to all appearance conspir'd the Death of Nero, proves nothing against Aristotle; he only made profession [Page 136] of Wisdom; the other aspir'd to an Empire.

Alexander's Death being resolv'd upon, Antipater sent his Son Cassander to the Army, intending speedily to follow him; and charg'd him to ac­quaint the King how false and mali­cious Olympias her Accusations were. Coming to the Army near Babylon, and seeing the Persians prostrate themselves at the King's feet, he be­gan openly to scoff at them, and could not forbear laughing; which so offended the King, that he took him by the Hair of his Head, drag'd him on the Ground, and trampl'd on him. Some days after Cassander ha­ving undertaken his Father's De­fence against those that were come to accuse him, the King commanded him to hold his peace; saying, 'Twas very unlikely Men should come so far to tell him Lies. Cassander would continue, but Alexander told him in choler, That he would make him repent of his Disobedience; that his Reasons [Page 137] were no other than Aristotle's Falla­cies; and that he would not suffer An­tipater, vain and treacherous as he was, to go unpunish'd.

Not long after this Antipater ar­riv'd. He saw the Storm hovering over his Head, and thought how he might prevent the Danger. Where­fore he call'd his Sons, Cassander, Jollas, and Philip; and with all the authority and tenderness of a Fa­ther, represents unto them, ‘That in vain he had given them Being, if he did not endeavour to procure them a Life full of Happiness and Pleasure; and that he should be himself very unhappy if he did not live after his Death in his Children, succeeding him in his Revenues and Imploiments. Those, said he, have no reason to applaud Nature, that are born of an Illustrious Race, and live unfortunately; the more splen­did their Birth, the more heavy and insupportable is their Misery. As Man is a part of the Universe, [Page 138] through the qualities of his Tempe­raments and his Spirits; so he is no part of the World Politick, with­out Riches and Promotions. To be without these, is not to live, but to die, nay, to die every day as long as ones Life lasts. These Thoughts, my dear Children, di­sturb me only upon your account. You know what great Glory I have acquir'd in the Armies, which gain'd me a large share in Philip's Affecti­on. You have seen me rais'd to the highest degree of Grandeur, Arbiter of a flourishing Kingdom; caressed by Alexander, till such time as his mind of late, as much corrup­ted by the effeminacy of the Per­sians, as it was formerly well in­structed by the Precepts of Divine Aristotle, induc'd him to depose me from governing Macedonia; and upon the Report of my Enemies to suspect my Fidelity, always incor­ruptible. So that 'tis impossible to support our Grandeur, unless we [Page 139] take off the Head of this Monster. Can you be of so base a Spirit, as to resolve to live unhappy, without Wealth, without Honour? Can you be so unnatural as to survive my Misfortune? What say I? Can you think to escape Death, after they have taken away my Life? Cassander, thou hast had experience of this Tyrant's Cruelty, thou hast heard his Threats; Canst thou doubt of suddenly seeing the Ef­fects? Olympias, infamous as she is, has prevail'd against our Merit; shall we wait, like Clitus and Par­menio, to be sacrific'd to Alexander's Fury? No; I can never think that the Off-spring of Antipater will de­generate from his Glory, and that of his Ancestors. Be not daunted at the Death of Philotas and Her­molaus: like a good Pilot I have learnt to avoid those Rocks where others have bin Shipwrack'd. Those were forc'd to have several Associ­ates, to intrust a Secret to many [Page 140] Persons; we our selves can execute the Design I meditate. They would have kill'd Alexander in the midst of his Guards, in the sight of the the Army; We will take him off by Poison at Table, in the midst of good Cheer. His Sickness and his Death will be imputed to his de­bauching. Jollas is his chief Cup­bearer, what is there more easy, than to convey the Poison into his Wine, or into his Water? My dear Chil­dren, 'tis now no longer time to deliberate, we must speedily kill Alexander, or he will kill us.’

Cassander, Jollas, and Philip, pre­sently resolv'd upon that great Vil­lany, and expected only the conve­niency of some Feast, that they might execute their Design.

In the mean while Alexander ha­stens towards Babylon, where Em­bassadors from all parts of the World attended his coming, to con­gratulate with him for his Conquests. Nearchus, one of his chief Officers, [Page 141] advertised him of a Prediction of the Chaldeans, threatning him with inevitable peril if he enter'd the City Babylon. Though he was as much given to Superstition as any one, yet nothing could stop his Jour­ney. In appearance he went thither as to the Diet of the Universe, to impose Laws on all the Earth; but in reality his Destiny drew him, thither he went to his own destruction.

As he drew near the Walls of Ba­bylon, several Presages troubled him, and he remember'd the counsel of Nearchus. Nevertheless he would not return back, but entred the City, foreseeing, as it were, his Misfortune. Not long after a Thessalian Physician made a Feast, and invited Alexander and the chief of his Courtiers thi­ther. He failed not to be there, and having drank of Hercules his Cup, he felt such violent pain, that he desir'd them to kill him with his Sword. It was presently given out, that drink­ing too much Wine had occasion'd his [Page 142] Distemper; and thus Antipater's Au­thority stifled the Infamy of his Trea­son.

Plutarch writes, that Alexander died of a violent Feaver; and re­ports for proof of what he alleages, that his Body continued for several days as fresh and sound, as at the moment of his expiring. I wonder that so Learned a Man should be ig­norant of the nature of some Poi­sons, that preserve from corrupting, and leave no marks of their effect. Whatsoever may be said, 'tis certain that perfidious Jollas poison'd the King's Water, and then mix'd it with his Wine.

Thus expir'd great Alexander, quell'd by Domestick Treason, after he had conquer'd all the East. The eminent Qualities appearing in him at the beginning of his Reign, made every one admire him; the enormi­ty of his Vices, proceeding from his Fortune, render'd him odious to all the World. He continu'd a long [Page 143] time magnificent, liberal, of a sweet and gentle disposition, inclin'd to Justice and Clemency; he became at once unjust, cruel, extravagant, mis­trustful, superstitious, and so addicted to all sorts of Vice, that there was no hopes of his returning.

So Illustious an Example as this, may serve to instruct all Princes, that there is no Power stronger than a resolute Heart; that there is no Pru­dence but may be o're-reach'd by Malice; and that the Dispair of one Man is more to be fear'd than an Army.