Montesquieu bewails the fate of a monarch, who is oppressed by a party that prevails after his fall.  His enemies are his historians; and this reflection is employed in mitigation of the crimes imputed to Tarquin; but, surely, if true, on that occasion, it is no less so with respect to Carthage.  All the historians that give us the character of the two nations were Romans and of the victorious party; yet most of them are more equitable than the historians of modern times, for they had not seen their own country in its last state of degradation and misery.  Those who now make the comparison have proper materials; and it is the business of the writers of history to free it from the errors into which cotemporary =sic= authors fall, whether from prejudice, or from want of knowing those events which happened after their days.

In the case of the Roman historians, the error arose from a combination of three different causes.  In the first place, they compared Rome in its healthy days and its vigour, to Carthage in its decline.—­ They were, next to that, led into an error, by not knowing that all countries that have been long rich are liable to the same evils as Carthage.  And, last of all, they wrote with a spirit of party, and a prediliction =sic= in favour of Rome.  These three causes are certain; and, perhaps, there was another.  It is possible they did not dare to speak the truth, if they did know it.

It is true, that the human mind is not proof against the effect pro-[end of page #36] duced by what is splendid and brilliant; and that success in all cases diminishes, and, in some, does away the reproach naturally attached to criminality.  It is also to be admitted, that in the Roman character there was a degree of courage and magnanimity that commands admiration, though the end to which it was applied was in itself detestable.  Even in individual life (moral principle apart) there is something that diminishes the horror attendant on injustice and rapacity, when accompanied with courage and prodigality.

It is no less true, that the manners of commercial men, though their views are legitimate and their means fair, are prejudicial to them in the opinion of others.  Individuals, gaining money by commerce, may sometimes have the splendour and magnanimity of princes; but nations that depend only on commerce for wealth never can.  No nation, while it continues great or wealthy, can rid itself of the characteristic manners that attend the way in which it obtains its wealth and greatness.  Merchants owe their wealth to a strict adherence to their interest, and they cannot help shewing it.

The cruelties of the Spaniards have not excited the detestation they deserved, because they were accompanied with courage, and crowned with success; and that nation found means, in the midst of the most horrible of human crimes, to preserve an appearance of greatness and dignity of character.  But the Dutch, who have gained wealth, like the Carthaginians, and though they were conquerors, never quitted the character of merchants, and they never possessed dignity of character, though they triumphed by virtue, perseverance, and bravery, over that very Spain which did preserve her dignity.