At length we come to Pull, supposed to be the father of Sardanapalus; in whose reign Jonah is believed to have lived. “The word of the Lord,” says the Hebrew scripture, “came unto Jonah, the son of Amittai, saying, Arise, go to Nineveh, that great city, and cry against it; for their wickedness is come up before me.” Jonah, instead of acting as he was commanded, went to Joppa, and thence to Tarshish. He was overtaken by a storm, swallowed by a whale, and thrown up again. Being commanded again, he arose and went to Nineveh, “_an exceedingly great city of three days’ journey_;” where, having warned the inhabitants, that in forty days their city should be overthrown, the people put on sackcloth, “from the greatest of them even to the least.” The king sat in ashes, and proclaimed a fast. “Let neither man nor beast,” said the edict, “herd nor flock, taste any thing; let them not feed, nor drink water; but let man and beast be covered with sackcloth; and cry mightily unto God; yea, let them turn every one from his evil way, and from the violence that is in their hands. Who can tell if God will turn and repent, and turn away from his fierce anger, that we perish not?” On the king’s issuing this edict, the people did as they were commanded, and the ruin was delayed. On finding this, the prophet acted in a very unworthy manner. To have failed as a prophet gave him great concern; insomuch, that he desired death. “Take, I beseech thee, O Lord, my life from me; for it is better for me to die than to live.” “Shall I not spare Nineveh,” answered the Lord, “that great city, wherein are more than six-score thousand persons, that cannot discern between their right hand and their left hand; and also much cattle?” Sardanapalus was, beyond all other sovereigns recorded in history, the most effeminate and voluptuous; the most perfect specimen of sloth, luxury, cowardice, crime, and elaborate folly, that was, perhaps, ever before exhibited to the detestation of mankind. He clothed himself in women’s attire, and spun fine wool and purple amongst throngs of concubines. He painted likewise his face, and decked his whole body with other allurements. He imitated, also, a woman’s voice; and in a thousand respects disgraced his nature by the most unbounded licentiousness and depravity. He even wished to immortalise his impurities; selecting for his epitaph the following lines:— Hæc habeo quæ edi, quæque exsaturata libido Hausit; at illa jacent multa et præclara relicta. “This epitaph,” says Aristotle, “is only fit for a hog.”[23]