What dynasty in ancient times held a prouder or wider sway than the illustrious masters of the Roman world?  The solid fabric of their power was the growth of nearly a thousand years, and it cost about thirteen centuries of revolutions and barbaric invasions before it was undermined and finally extinguished.  If its earlier annals were disgraced by the crimes of a Tiberius, a Nero, and a Domitian, they could boast of the virtues and abilities of a Titus, a Trajan, a Nerva, a Hadrian, the two Antonini, &c.; though it must be admitted that latterly the balance sadly preponderated on the side of vice and corruption.  If a Justinian or a Constantine appeared, his reign was but a sunbeam in the midst of the universal degeneracy; or if a ray of splendour was shed on the empire by his virtues or his victories, the transient glory was speedily dispelled by irruptions from without, or intrigue and revolt within.  Gradually the work of decay proceeded, until the vast expanse of the imperial conquests was contracted to a few provinces, whose capital had been transferred to the shores of the Bosphorus.  A languishing existence of about six centuries and a half—­that is, from the revival of the western empire in 800 by Charlemagne, to the taking of Constantinople by the Turks in 1453—­was brought to a close by the death of Constantine Palaeologus, the last of a race who had continued, says Gibbon, ’to assume the titles of Caesar and Augustus after their dominions were circumscribed to the limits of a single city, in which the language as well as manners of the ancient Romans had been long since forgotten!’

The family of Palaeologus was of Greek origin, illustrious in birth and merit.  ‘As early,’ says Gibbon, ’as the middle of the eleventh century, the noble race of the Palaeologi stands high and conspicuous in Byzantine history.  It was the valiant George Palaeologus who placed the father of the Comneni on the throne; and his kinsmen or descendants continued in each generation to lead the armies and councils of the state.’  The first that wore the imperial purple was Michael, who was elevated to the throne in 1260.  Already he had distinguished himself as a soldier and a statesman, and had been promoted in his early youth to the office of ‘constable,’ or commander of the French mercenaries.  His ambition excited jealousy, and some acts of imprudence involved him in dangers from which he thrice escaped.  One of those perils was the usual appeal which was made in the middle ages to the ‘judgment of God’ to vindicate injured innocence.  To this ordeal Michael submitted, in presence of the emperor and the archbishop of Philadelphia.  ’Three days before the trial, the patient’s arm was enclosed in a bag, and secured by the royal signet; and it was incumbent on him to bear a redhot bolt of iron three times from the altar to the rails of the sanctuary, without artifice and without injury.  Palaeologus eluded the dangerous experiment with sense and pleasantry.