fore, combated against their Roman oppressors. Like the
former, submitting reluctantly to a haughty master, and misgoverned by
rapacious satraps, they broke off their chain with like resolution, and
tried their fortune in a similar unequal combat. The same pride of
conquest, the same national grandeur, marked the Spaniard of the
sixteenth century and the Roman of the first; the same valor and
discipline distinguished the armies of both, their battle array inspired
the same terror. There as here we see stratagem in combat with superior
force, and firmness, strengthened by unanimity, wearying out a mighty
power weakened by division; then as now private hatred armed a whole
nation; a single man, born for his times, revealed to his fellow-slaves
the dangerous Secret of their power, and brought their mute grief to a
bloody announcement. "Confess, Batavians," cries Claudius Civilis to
his countrymen in the sacred grove, "we are no longer treated, as
formerly, by these Romans as allies, but rather as slaves. We are
handed over to their prefects and centurions, who, when satiated with
our plunder and with our blood, make way for others, who, under
different names, renew the same outrages. If even at last Rome deigns
to send us a legate, he oppresses us with an ostentatious and costly
retinue, and with still more intolerable pride. The levies are again at
hand which tear forever children from their parents, brothers from
brothers. Now, Batavians, is our time. Never did Rome lie so prostrate
as now. Let not their names of legions terrify you. There is nothing
in their camps but old men and plunder. Our infantry and horsemen are
strong; Germany is allied to us by blood, and Gaul is ready to throw off
its yoke. Let Syria serve them, and Asia and the East, who are used to
bow before kings; many still live who were born among us before tribute
was paid to the Romans. The gods are ever with the brave." Solemn
religious rites hallowed this conspiracy, like the League of the Gueux;
like that, it craftily wrapped itself in the veil of submissiveness, in
the majesty of a great name. The cohorts of Civilis swear allegiance on
the Rhine to Vespasian in Syria, as the League did to Philip II. The
same arena furnished the same plan of defence, the same refuge to
despair. Both confided their wavering fortunes to a friendly element;
in the same distress Civilis preserves his island, as fifteen centuries
after him William of Orange did the town of