commanded,—and he was attended by vassal
kings from the East. The forces of Octavius were
not so large, though better disciplined; nor was he
a match for Antony in military experience. Antony
with his superior forces wished to fight upon the
land, but against his better judgment was overruled
by Cleopatra, who, having reinforced him with sixty
galleys, urged him to contend upon the sea. The
rivals met at Actium, where was fought one of the
great decisive battles of the world. For a while
the fortunes of the day were doubtful, when Cleopatra,
from some unexplained motive, or from panic, or possibly
from a calculating policy, was seen sailing away with
her ships for Egypt. And what was still more
extraordinary, Antony abandoned his fleet and followed
her. Had he been defeated on the sea, he still
had superior forces on the land, and was a match for
Octavius. His infatuation ended in a weakness
difficult to comprehend in a successful Roman general.
And never was infatuation followed by more tragic
consequences. Was this madness sent upon him
by that awful Power who controls the fate of war and
the destinies of nations? Who sent madness upon
Nebuchadnezzar? Who blinded Napoleon at the very
summit of his greatness? May not that memorable
defeat have been ordered by Providence to give consolidation
and peace and prosperity to the Roman Empire, so long
groaning under the complicated miseries of anarchy
and civil war? If an imperial government was
necessary for the existing political and social condition
of the Roman world,—and this is maintained
by most historians,—how fortunate it was
that the empire fell into the hands of a man whose
subsequent policy was peace, the development of resources
of nations, and a vigorous administration of government!
It is generally conceded that the reign of Octavius—or,
as he is more generally known, Augustus Caesar—was
able, enlightened, and efficient. He laid down
the policy which succeeding emperors pursued, and which
resulted in the peace and prosperity of the Roman world
until vices prepared the way for violence. Augustus
was a great organizer, and the machinery of government
which he and his ministers perfected kept the empire
together until it was overrun by the New Germanic races.
Had Antony conquered at Actium, the destinies of the
empire might have been far different. But for
two hundred years the world never saw a more efficient
central power than that exercised by the Roman emperors
or by their ministers. Imperialism at last proved
fatal to genius and the higher interests of mankind;
but imperialism was the creation of Julius Caesar,
as a real or supposed necessity; it was efficiently
and beneficently continued by his grand-nephew Augustus;
and its consolidated strength became an established
institution which the civilized world quietly accepted.
The battle of Actium virtually settled the civil war
and the fortunes of Antony, although he afterwards
fought bravely and energetically; but all to no purpose.
And then, at last, his eyes were opened, and Shakspeare
makes him bitterly exclaim,—