The way in which Cæsar was situated with regard to the republic at the end of his time in Gaul, was indeed so unhappy, that it was not in the power of man to bring matters to a good and joyful issue. If it was difficult even for Scipio, after his victory, to live as a citizen, and he did not quite know how to conduct himself; how much more for a man who, for nearly ten years, had been used to rule over vast tracts of country with the absolute power of a prince. Such a habit is hard to get rid of, as we may perceive in the less important things of our every-day life, wherein the change from one situation to another is often fraught with endless difficulties. All that Cæsar could have got lawfully, was a second consulship: this, however, as affairs then stood, was nothing but an empty honour; for what could he have done with himself and with the republic? He could indeed have only employed his great intellectual faculties by devoting himself in utter retirement to study. He had not been in Rome for ten years; and all that he heard from thence from those who came to him, was hateful to him, and showed him the government in a contemptible light. To live on a footing of equality with inferior, and some of them bad men, was what he could not think of without disgust. Matters therefore were in such confusion, that they could not possibly have righted. His opponents, instead of taking steps towards reconciliation, showed, on the contrary, symptoms which must have vexed him to the utmost. M. Marcellus, the consul of the year 701, let slip no occasion of annoying Cæsar: for instance, he had caused a man from Como, to whom Cæsar, by virtue of the full powers given him, had granted the citizenship, to be flogged like a common criminal, merely to insult and mock at Cæsar. In the following year, C. Marcellus, a cousin of the former, was consul with L. Æmilius Paullus, C. Scribonius Curio, being also tribune at the same time. Of him we have still some letters among those of Cicero: he was a young man of great talent, but of the most consummate profligacy. At first, owing to his family connexions, he belonged to Pompey’s party; and he was then considered as even a decided and very bitter enemy of Cæsar. But Cæsar knew that Curio was over head and ears in debt,—as much as two million dollars, we are told, which may give us some measure of the magnitude of the Roman fortunes, as well as of the vice and prodigality of the times,—and he is said to have gained him over by paying his debts. He likewise bought over the consul Æmilius Paullus with an immense sum: from this we may see what a mockery of a government the system of provincial administration was. The accounts were only given in after the triumph had been celebrated: this had been the case since the earliest times, and it still remained so, even now that the imperia were held for such long periods. What the proconsul had gotten for himself, was not thought worth looking into: he had merely to show that he owed nothing to the army, and to account for what the senate had placed at his disposal from the ærarium. Æmilius Paullus built with those millions the Basilica Æmilia in the Forum, an edifice to which those noble pillars undoubtedly belonged, which, as Nibby supposes, stood in the Church of St. Paul until the calamitous fire in the year 1823.^[10] Curio was uncommonly clever and adroit, and he put on an air of perfect impartiality: at first, he even sided against Cæsar; then, against both Cæsar and Pompey; at last, he flung off the mask, and declared for Cæsar.

With the next year, Cæsar’s proconsulship was to expire. He now, after a lapse of ten years, stood for a second consulship, and asked for a triumph beforehand; so that he might keep his army together, and disband it when that was over, as Pompey had done after the war with Mithridates. He wanted to be allowed to become a candidate at the consular election while still in his province,—an irregularity which had crept in during the seventh century,—and then to lead his army to Rome, and triumph. To prevent such a thing, it had been the rule, we do not know for how long, that no one who had an army should stand for the consulship. His opponents therefore demanded that he should lay down the imperium; disband his troops, that is to say, give up his triumph; and stand for the consulship as a private person. Had he thus delivered himself into the hands of his enemies, he was convinced that he would have lost his life. Curio now moved that Cæsar and Pompey should both disband their troops, and come to Rome as private persons; which was the fairest proposal. But the friends of Pompey maintained that, as the term of his imperium was not yet come to an end, he ought not to be placed on an equal footing with Cæsar. It was the misfortune of Italy that Pompey, who was dangerously ill, did not then die: he was indeed so popular, or so dreaded, that all Italy prayed for his recovery. Pompey seemingly was ready to submit to the humiliation, though indeed he complained bitterly of the slight put upon him. Curio’s motion was carried by a majority of three hundred against about twenty;^[11] but the consul Marcellus cancelled the decree. The aristocrats of that day professed to uphold the decrees of the senate, whereas in reality they wanted to rule the senate with a rod of iron; and so they did not even scorn the help of the rabble, being in every sense of the word populaciers, if it suited their ends: they would raise an outcry against rebellion, and yet they were the rankest revolutionists, if matters did not go on quite as they wished. Thus the party of Lamennais, as soon as the government does anything that they dislike, at once begin to preach regicide and revolution. I have heard men of the extreme right in France talking like Jacobins, uttering it as their opinion that the people of the very lowest class were gifted with an immense deal of sense, and that they showed the highest interest in the welfare of the country. Curio also did not make his proposal from any good motive: this he cannot have credit for, being one of those to whom the worst confusion is the most welcome state of things.

The next year, the tribunes were all of them the hireling creatures of Cæsar; and among these was he who was afterwards the frightful triumvir Antony. Pompey had received the command of Italy, and been authorized by the senate to raise an army for its safety, which, however, he was too indolent to do. On the first of January, in the year 703, the distribution of the provinces was again discussed in the senate; and as Pompey had troops in the city, it was decreed under his influence, that Cæsar should lay down his imperium. The tribunes protested; but so far was their protest from being heeded, that they were even threatened with personal violence by the consuls: having perhaps magnified the danger, they fled to Cæsar at Ravenna, on the frontier of the province of Gaul. Cispadane Gaul had, at that time already got the Roman franchise; but it belonged notwithstanding to Cæsar’s province. At Rome, Pompey and his friends swallowed the most absurd reports. It was said that Cæsar’s army was most highly disaffected, that it wanted to be disbanded; that it was weak in numbers; that it was worn out by wars:—in short they believed whatever they wished. Cæsar had in those parts not more than five thousand men with him, partly in order not to alarm the province, partly because he did not wish to strip Gaul of troops; now, at length, he gave orders that every one should march. What is indeed most inconceivable, is that the Gauls were now quite still, and did not move, whereas they had revolted when they had ten legions to keep them down: they very likely thought that the Romans would themselves destroy each other. Cæsar had before that already given up two legions, which were to go to Syria. Even at the end of the year, he was still negociating: he had offered to retain the command of Illyricum and Gallia Cispadana only, with two legions, or even one alone, on the sole condition that Pompey should likewise resign his imperium. All was, however, rejected: Pompey was to be left entirely out of the question, and the letter of the law was to be carried out. Now that the tribunes had arrived at Ravenna, the senatus consultum was brought, in which Cæsar was ordered to come to Rome, and to give up his army to Domitius Ahenobarbus: this made him afraid of being prosecuted as soon as ever he came to Rome by himself. Passion then got the better of him, and he resolved upon starting for Ariminum. It is probably on the other side of Ariminum, in the neighbourhood of Cesena, that the bridge over the Rubicon was: the people about these places disagree as to which of the small rivers was the Rubicon. He was still wavering, not knowing whether he should sacrifice himself, or violate the law and save his life; for even then he seems to have thought much more of his safety than of dominion. There he stood in deep emotion, until he made up his mind to cross the river. Thus he arrived at Ariminum, which had opened its gates to him. In all that part of the country, nothing was prepared against him: people fancied that the times had not changed; and that the troops would abandon Cæsar, and go over to Pompey, because the latter had formerly been so popular with them. But Pompey had had his day; Cæsar’s soldiers even shared the emulation of their general, and were proud of their victories. There is not a more remarkable contrast than that which thirty years had brought about. Sylla’s war had lasted even to the third year, and throughout Italy the two parties were struggling most fiercely against each other; but now, there was not a man who cared so much as to raise his hand. Cæsar’s small army overran the whole of Italy, without meeting with any resistance, as would also happen in these days: the habits of the municipal towns were at that time quite as unwarlike as those of modern Italy. It may have had something to do with it, that Sylla’s legions in the military colonies were no longer inclined to such a civil war: from party motives, they ought in fact to have sided with Pompey; but it was perhaps the great general whom they liked best. What, however, turned the scale, was the utter want of any thing like public feeling: people no longer felt any interest either for one party or the other, as they were perfectly aware that there was now no regard for law, and that matters could not become much worse; and to lose life and limb for Pompey’s sake alone, was what they were by no means willing to do. Pompey had hoped to make an effect upon the people by high sounding words, and to pass off shadows for realities: no soldier’s heart could have beaten for him, as it might indeed for Cæsar. He had given himself airs as if he could have raised legions by stamping on the ground; but when he heard that Cæsar was already marching on the Via Flaminia, he as well as the senators had no other thought but that of flight. They had only a small army under the command of Domitius Ahenobarbus, the one who was to have taken Cæsar’s province. The latter now reached Rome without any further check. A short time before, Cicero had returned from Cilicia, and he was now the mediator of a peace; but although his counsels were the very justest and wisest, no one would listen to him. Pompey’s party took it into their heads, that at present it was much better not to defend themselves at Rome; that they ought by all means to let Cæsar make himself hateful in Italy; and that Pompey, whose lieutenants, M. Petreius and Afranius, were in possession of Spain, should draw all his forces (seven legions) thence, and concentrate them in Greece, and call to his aid all the moneyed resources of the east: Spain and Africa were theirs; Gaul would likewise declare against Cæsar; and the reaction could not fail to come. Thus they calculated very nicely, how they were to crush Cæsar in Italy. Pompey now went to Brundusium, and with him all the troops which had not fallen off. L. Domitius was besieged by Cæsar in Corfinium, on which his men made a capitulation for themselves. Cæsar gladly took most of them into his own army, and allowed the rest to go whithersoever they liked; thus leaving every one the choice of rising for him or keeping quiet. Domitius was completely deserted. At Rome, Cæsar was waited for with fear and trembling. Pompey had declared that whosoever was not with him, was against him; and every one who wished to stay in Rome, was threatened by his partisans with prosecution and proscription after the victory. From Cicero’s letters, one may see the monstrous way in which the Pompeians wanted to tyrannize over the opinions of the people.

Cæsar went from Corfinium to Brundusium. Pompey had wanted to keep this town, that he might have an arsenal, and a landing-place in Italy; and he hoped that his rival would not venture upon besieging it. Cæsar had hardly a ship, while Pompey, who was master of the east, had at his command the whole of the seafaring part of the world then known. The latter had collected his fleet in the harbour of Brundusium, where Cæsar attacked him with such resolution, that, having the open sea behind him, and ships at hand, he was obliged to withdraw from the place, and to betake himself to Illyricum. This was of great importance to Cæsar, as Brundusium was faithful to the Syllanian interest, which Pompey represented. Cæsar now had the treasury at Rome forced open, as the keys had been put out of the way: he took out the money, nominated magistrates, and dealt as an absolute monarch with the opposition of those who, like the tribune Metellus, wanted to play the farce of liberty. The people of the capital now expected scenes like those which had been witnessed in the time of his uncle Marius; but whoever chose to trust him was quite safe: he did not even utter a bitter word against any one. But it was not the same in Italy, whenever he could not be present; for his soldiers, and not a few of his officers, committed a great number of outrages, owing to which the feelings of many were turned against him. With his wonted great activity, after having arranged at Rome all that was to be settled, he went through the south of Gaul to Spain, where the generals did not even march to meet him, or block up the way over the Pyrenees. His army was far less than that of his opponents, which consisted of seven legions; and he even left part of it behind for the siege of Marseilles, that city having wanted to keep neutral. He may have had some particular reason to be hard upon it, and perhaps he still bore it an old grudge: he now called upon it to declare for him, and on its refusal, he detached two legates to attack the place. The description of this siege in the second book of the Bellum Civile is very interesting, as it shows us the system then in use, which was very different from the Greek one. After a long siege, and not till Cæsar’s return from Spain, the Massilians were forced to surrender. Cæsar did not destroy the town, nor was he guilty of any outrage against it; but the inhabitants had to give up their arms, and had long to suffer the loss of their freedom. The triumph over the Massilians is one of the most shameful things ever done, as they had always been the staunch allies of the Romans.

Afranius and Petreius made a stand against Cæsar near Lerida in Catalonia, and he had to employ the whole of his art, the victory which he gained being properly speaking, a moral one: he caused such a desertion in their army, that they were obliged to treat. Afranius, a commonplace man, was for coming to terms, but Petreius spurned the very thought: he even inflicted heavy punishments on the soldiers who wanted to place themselves in communication with Cæsar. This was, however, of no avail: he saw that the legions would desert him altogether. The two leaders therefore made a capitulation for themselves, and for M. Varro, by which they agreed to evacuate the whole of Spain; and they were allowed to go free with those who did not wish to serve under Cæsar, which, however, most of the men did. Thus Cæsar became master of the whole of Spain.

Cato had left Sicily, of which he had had the government as prætor, and Curio had taken the command there. The latter went from thence to Africa, where he was opposed by the Pompeian general Varus, and by Juba king of Mauritania, a client of Pompey. This expedition of Curio’s came to a sad end, partly owing to the desertion which broke out among his legions, partly owing to his unskilful generalship, and to various disasters. Curio at last was killed in a battle with Juba, and most of his soldiers were scattered and cut to pieces: some of them made their escape to Sicily. Cæsar had nominated himself dictator; in what form, cannot be made out with certainty, there being much discrepancy in the accounts which we have. He did everything as expeditiously as possible, and he passed several welcome and just laws. Among others was one concerning debts; a thing which is always necessary whenever there is an extraordinary fall in the value of every kind of property, so that a debt in money ceases to be what its nominal value expresses. A commission was appointed, before which all who had land in Italy might have it estimated, and thus made available to pay off their debts. This was often done under such circumstances; and no doubt the statement is also true that the interest was deducted. A number of other enactments were also made to meet the wants of the moment. And now that he had brought his army back to Italy, and considerably strengthened it by forming the troops which had gone over to him into legions, he marched forthwith to Brundusium. It was already about a year since Pompey had left Rome, and had gathered around him all the Romans whom he had been able to gain over: he had moreover an immense host of auxiliaries, and a fleet with which, as Cæsar had nothing to oppose to it, he might have been master of the sea, had not his lieutenants been so wretched. He wintered in Thessalonica, and his army in Macedon: his chief strength lay in his fleet, as the people of Rhodes and other places, and also many of the subject Greek towns still kept up their ships:—even the whole naval power of Egypt was at his disposal. Having collected all this force, he placed it under the command of Bibulus, Cæsar’s colleague in the consulship; and thus he hoped to make the passage by sea impracticable for Cæsar, so that he would have to go by land through Dalmatia, where he would have had to encounter M. Octavius, Pompey’s best general. But in this also, Cæsar tried to strike awe into the enemy, and he succeeded: to reach Illyricum, he was not afraid to use whatever vessels he had, or anything that could only float upon the sea. Bibulus was an able man, personally very praiseworthy, who did not neglect his duty, but he was deficient in that peculiar activity and watchfulness which in such cases are indispensable. One of the distinguishing features of Cæsar is that, whenever the utmost speed was necessary, though his forces were not quite complete, he would, without even a moment’s loss of time, at once strike the blow with whatever he chanced to have at hand; and he would try and gain a firm footing until he had collected the whole of his army. Thus he passed over to Illyricum; and thus he afterwards made his appearance in Egypt without the force which could support him, and later again in Africa: this is one of the marks of a great general, who calculates not only what he risks, but likewise what he can effect by it. Quite unexpectedly, he appeared with a small squadron at Oricum, a town on the farthest borders of Illyricum and Epirus, behind the bay of Acroceraunia; he landed, reduced the place, and immediately set out to attack Apollonia, which opened its gates to him. His name went before him, nor did any one suppose that he had only a few thousand men with him. Near Apollonia, he took up a position; but when an attempt of his against Dyrrachium had failed, Pompey tried to drive him back and to surround him. As Cæsar’s orders to send the troops immediately after him had not been fulfilled, he tried in this dilemma himself to cross, in a twelve-oared boat, over the dangerous, stormy sea; but after having struggled for a whole day against the currents and the waves, he was at last obliged to yield to the storm. Although his commands to follow him were most peremptory, his lieutenant Gabinius, whose heart failed him, disregarded them: he went round the gulf through Dalmatia, where he was afterwards routed by Octavius, and slain. Mark Antony, on the contrary, who ventured to pass over, led the troops most successfully close by Pompey’s fleet; for Bibulus had a short time before fallen ill, and he was now on the point of death. Thus did Antony, with the loss of only a few ships, make his passage to Illyricum. But for all that, Cæsar’s force was far inferior to that of Pompey, who was stationed near Dyrrachium; and yet he advanced against him, and ventured to hem him in by throwing up lines and bastions round Dyrrachium. This was an undertaking which Pompey could very easily let him go on with; for he got his supplies by sea, while Cæsar had no other provisions but those which he could collect by forays into the neighbouring country. Here Cæsar tried to finish the war; but he was unsuccessful, being repulsed with considerable loss in a coup de main against Dyrrachium: Pompey showed determination, and made himself master of part of the lines, so that the blockade had to be given up. The soldiers were so disheartened that day, that Cæsar despaired of the issue: they were certainly in a wretched plight, as they had to feed on grass and roots. Grass means here as much as salad: the poor in the south very often eat such herbs with vinegar and oil, which indeed the soldiers had to do without. Cæsar afterwards said, that he would have been routed on that day; and that Pompey would have conquered, if he had known how to make use of his victory. But Pompey had grown sluggish, and he had lost the faculty of doing anything to justify the pretensions which he put forth. After this rebuff, Cæsar was unable to go on with the war there any more; and so he ventured upon an expedition which, had it failed, would quite as much have been classed among fool-hardy freaks as the march of Charles XII. to Pultawa. Leaving Pompey in his rear, he betook himself to a country where he had nothing to rely upon, but every inch of ground to conquer: he broke up from Dyrrachium. No doubt Pompey expected that he would now turn towards Illyricum, and there unite himself with the troops of his party: but far from doing this, he went to the high mountain ranges between Epirus and Thessaly, and without stopping, to Gomphi, near the pass from Janina to Thessaly, and took it by storm. By this means, he restored the confidence of his soldiers, as they refreshed themselves with the booty. The panic caused by the destruction of this town, opened to him the whole of Thessaly. Pompey, who had such a superior force of soldiers, ought now to have gone to Italy; and the more so, as those legions of Cæsar’s which had been formed of the troops which had gone over to him in Spain, had partly become mutinous again, while Cæsar, with the fleet which he had, could never have reached Italy. But those who were about Pompey, were now so full of joy at Cæsar’s having got into a trap by going into countries from which he had no way out, that they went after him. Terror, however, paved the way for Cæsar: he was quite comfortably off in luxurious Thessaly, and having everything in plenty, he was enabled to recover himself. He took up his position near the rich town of Pharsalus, where for some days the two armies were facing each other, and manœuvring: he again got into a very bad plight, as he was in want of provisions, and Pompey’s cavalry was much stronger than his own. Here again it was now the opinion of the cautious, that Cæsar’s army should be allowed to wear itself out more and more by the distress in which it was; and this was the opinion of Pompey himself. But his followers were so childishly intoxicated with their hopes of victory, that they looked upon this judicious advice as disgraceful. The senators, who knew nothing whatever of war, deliberated with regard to the battle, how they would after the victory divide the advantages among themselves; and growing warm, they quarrelled together about who was to have the pontificate and the other offices of Cæsar, and also the estates of his partisans about to be proscribed. Cæsar was very anxious for a speedy decision, being most confident of victory; for he despised Pompey, such as he was then, and all his officers, They, on their side, deemed it a shame to delay the battle; and they forced it on in such haste, that Cæsar had hardly time to call back three legions which he had sent out to forage.

Of this battle there are very different accounts, the best of which of course is that of Cæsar himself; but we may believe Asinius Pollio that the numbers which he gives are exaggerated. We may take it for granted, that Cæsar had no more than twenty-two thousand infantry against forty thousand infantry of Pompey, who had also an immense number of Greeks and Asiatics as auxilia: these, however, were of no use whatever, being somewhat ashamed to display their incapacity on a field where Romans were arrayed against each other. In cavalry also, Pompey was far superior to Cæsar in numbers; but the latter had Gallic and German horse, whilst Pompey had young Roman volunteers, who perhaps faced an enemy for the first time, and were like children against a host of veterans. The story of the faciem feri, miles! is not to be taken literally. Cæsar had also trained his infantry to stand the shock of the cavalry, and the onset of the Pompeians was repulsed by the cohorts; he then made the Gallic and German cavalry charge the enemy, which decided the battle: they broke Pompey’s left wing, so that his right, which until then had fought with considerable success, was likewise forced to retire. All fled into the camp, and there these foolish men believed that the day was now over. But when they saw that the foe did not stop at all to plunder, and that in close order they were attacking the camp, the greatest confusion and rout ensued; Pompey started up like a madman, and calling out, “Not even here will they leave us quiet!” ran away. All dispersed, no one thinking of rallying so much as one cohort. The booty was immense, as the camp of Pompey was found to be furnished with Asiatic luxury; the tents were bowers, fitted up with carpets and costly furniture. The Gauls and Germans gladly availed themselves of the opportunity to revenge themselves on the Romans: but Cæsar had already issued an order during the battle, that no one should be hurt who did not flee nor offer any resistance; and thus most of them threw away their arms, and whole cohorts surrendered. It is known from Foggini’s Kalendarium, that the battle was fought on the tenth of August,^[12] according to the calendar of that time: this cannot indeed be the real day, which at all events ought to be dated in June.

Pompey fled to Larissa, and having got on board a ship, arrived at Mitylene, where his wife Cornelia was staying: his intention was to go to Cilicia and Cyprus, and from thence to the Parthians, a most shameful resolution! This, however, was opposed by his friends, and he saw no other plan, but to flee to Egypt. The right thing would have been to have gone to his fleet which was still untouched, and with it to maintain Africa; but his spirit was quite broken, and he determined to apply to the king of Egypt. Ptolemy Auletes, whom Gabinius had restored with Pompey’s connivance, was dead: as he was under obligations to Pompey, he had sent him a fleet, which, however, had now returned home after the battle. He had left two daughters, Cleopatra and Arsinoë, and two sons, who were younger: one of these had somewhat passed boyhood, while the other was still a child. The elder of the sons was by his will, according to the custom of incest which was rife among those Macedonian kings of Alexandria, to marry his eldest sister Cleopatra, and to rule with her in common; but being very imperious, and wanting to have everything for himself, he expelled her, and war broke out. She fled to Syria; and on the borders of Syria and Egypt, near Mount Casius, Ptolemy also, with his guardians Pothinus and Achillas was encamped. Pompey’s unlucky star brought him to this very coast. On this, L. Septimius, who had been left by Gabinius as commander in Egypt, advised Ptolemy to murder Pompey, and by this sacrifice to bribe Cæsar to give him the crown of Egypt. Such advice was quite to the taste of those Alexandrian rulers. L. Septimius was sent with a boat to go out and receive Pompey. Though all his companions had their suspicions roused, and he himself felt uneasy, yet Pompey was so entirely without a will of his own, and so stupified, that after all he chose to go into the boat: there he was stabbed, and his corpse was cast unburied on the strand.

Cæsar, continuing his pursuit without stopping, hastened with a few followers to Egypt; another great piece of daring! On his arrival, they brought him the head and ring of Pompey: history has not forgotten his tears. I will not deny that this death saved him from some anxiety; for how could he have made peace with Pompey?—the war could not end in any other way, but with his destruction;—yet for all that, judging from the disposition of Cæsar’s heart, I believe that his tears were sincere. He buried Pompey: to have erected a monument would have looked like a farce; but his family raised a small, humble monument over him. The name of the Pompeii still existed to the time of Tiberius; then it disappears. The emperor Hadrian found the statue taken away, and set up in a neighbouring temple, the monument itself being nearly buried in the sand; and he had it restored. An epigram on the subject, consisting of two distichs, is one of the most beautiful left us from antiquity: it is certainly genuine, although the second half has been called in question.

Cæsar now went to Alexandria whither his troops were to follow him; but his orders could not be carried across to Rhodes, as in the Mediterranean the Etesian gales blow from the north-west for about fifty or sixty days, until the dogdays, and the ships could not work their way against the wind. In the meanwhile, Cæsar had to stay in Alexandria among the most insolent and licentious populace in the world, one in which the vices of the east and the west were combined: the Macedonian Greek population had been mostly exterminated in the reign of Ptolemy Physcon, and the Alexandrine-Egyptians only remained, who were a detestable race. This rabble now became bold: as Cæsar had only so few with him, the eunuch Pothinus, the regent at that time, resolved to overpower him. Cæsar was in possession of the royal palace, where he entrenched himself as Ferdinand Cortez did in Mexico. An insurrection broke out; and the palace was set fire to, on which occasion the library of Ptolemy Philadelphus was burnt: the struggle in the streets was terrific. The account of how Cæsar then maintained himself,—making head against the immense danger which assailed him; destroying the entrance to the harbour to the dismay of the Alexandrians; taking the island of Pharos, and holding his ground there until he got reinforcements;—is given by Hirtius in a most graphic and attractive style. At last, Cæsar succeeded in making himself master of Alexandria, and the elder Ptolemy was accidentally drowned in the Nile: in short, the Alexandrians surrendered, and Cæsar, glad to have done with the war, declared Cleopatra queen, by whose arts he had been enslaved, and bestowed upon her the whole of the country.

Having now learned that Pharnaces king of Bosporus had invaded Pontus, and defeated Domitius, one of his legates; he hastened thither, attacked the enemy on the very day that he came up, without even allowing his troops to rest, and the Asiatics were routed and scattered. It was then that he wrote to Rome the celebrated “Veni, vidi, vici.”

Cæsar now, for the first time since his departure from Brundusium, returned to Rome; and there he set many things to rights. He paid great regard to his adherents, and also appointed a provisional government, which was much wanted; for his party was a medley of all sorts of people, who aimed at the most different ends and objects, and during his absence had undertaken the most contradictory things. In the meanwhile, the insurrection of Milo, Cælius Rufus, and Dolabella, had taken place, and been quickly put down: of this I shall say more further on.

He did not wait long at Rome. Servility proffered him the next extravagant honours; the whole power of the state was given him. Yet it must be said that men’s minds were very favourably disposed towards him on account of his unexpected mildness, whereas Pompey, had he been victorious, would undoubtedly have shed seas of blood. As far as he possibly could, he protected every one of the opposite party; and he also told the chief men about him, that each of them had free leave to rescue one of the proscribed, and all such were reinstated in their honours: with respect to their property, however, these had much to suffer, as it was not in his power to put a stop to all the robberies of his partisans. A great number indeed, still remained in exile; yet by degrees he let them all return.—The honours granted him by the senate, were bestowed three different times: I shall treat of them collectively when we come to his last stay in Rome.

While he was still at Rome, he had to deal with a most dangerous commotion among his troops, who were eagerly waiting for their triumph. His favourite legion, the tenth, which he had left behind in Italy that he might take it with him to Africa, broke out in open mutiny; and the veterans demanded, not only the payment of their arrears, but also the money and allotments of land which had been promised them. Sallust, whom Cæsar had sent to them, was ill-treated, and some senators were slain: the danger therefore was great. Cæsar had then the courage to let them come to Rome: he ordered them to lay aside their pila, but to keep their swords; and now he fearlessly made his appearance in the midst of them. When he harangued them in the Forum, his intrepidity, and the confidence which he showed in them, made such an impression on them, that they became quite tame. He treated them with contempt, addressed them as Quirites, and announced to them that he dismissed them: he would, however, allow those who wished to share the honour of the campaign to enlist. Upon this, all those who before had been loudly clamouring for their dismissal, almost with one voice entreated him to let them continue in his service.

He again went with a small army to Africa, where Cato and Q. Scipio, the father-in-law of Pompey, Afranius and Petreius, stood forth as the leaders of the whole party. Cato had not been present at the battle of Pharsalus: he had gone from Dyrrachium to Corcyra, and from thence to Cyrene. Here he got together a number of scattered Romans; but his army was much more distinguished for the rank, than for the bravery of its soldiers. Cyrene had hardly the honour of being a Roman province; there he was quite cut off from the rest of the world: he therefore made one of the most dreadful of forced marches, through the African desert all round the Syrtes, by Tripolis to the province of Africa. He was offered the chief command of the army, which was a respectable one; but he declined it, and only kept the command of Utica. Allied with him was Juba of Numidia, who ruled over the greater part of Jugurtha’s empire: in Mauritania, Bogud was king. In the latter country, there was also a Roman adventurer, P. Sitius of Nuceria, a remarkable character, and a man of great energy: he had formed a regiment of stray fugitives and deserters, which had gotten king Bogud the victory against Juba, and the ascendency in Africa. (I have treated of this Sitius in my edition of Fronto.) He attached himself to Cæsar, who promised to restore him to his civil rights; and he made war upon Juba, while Cæsar established himself in Tunis. The latter, having gradually received the reinforcements for which he was waiting, marched likewise against his foes. The campaign lasted several months without being decided, until Cæsar took his position near Thapsus, a peninsula with a fortified town. The enemy under Petreius, Afranius, Scipio, and Juba, occupied the isthmus, surrounding him with overwhelming numbers, and thus cutting him off from the mainland. But Cæsar broke through, first defeated the Romans, and then Juba, on the same day, and scattered their hosts. As soon as the battle was won, the soldiers went over to him in throngs: Juba was so utterly done for, that he fled from his kingdom. All was lost: Juba and Petreius took away each other’s life; Cato remained behind in Utica with a Roman garrison.

If there be indeed a great man in Roman history who deserves his fame, it is Cato. Cæsar has tried to disparage his virtue; but this arose from a pardonable feeling of irritation. After Cato’s death, Cicero wrote his celebrated laudatio M. Catonis;—would to heaven that we had it still! we should be able to discover from it Cicero’s inmost soul. This work does great honour, as well to Cicero, for having had the courage to write it, as to Cæsar for having borne with it: one sees how sincerely people believed in Cæsar’s magnanimity. When Cæsar says that Cato had harmed him by his death, as he had thus robbed him of the pleasure of pardoning him, not a word can be added: on the other hand, one may easily believe that Cæsar still felt hurt by Cicero’s eulogium. He therefore wrote the Anti-Cato, in which he may have displayed a bitterness of passion which in real life, he would certainly have as little shown to Cicero as to Cato himself. There was nothing that he so much wished for as Cato’s friendship, though indeed Cato could not have given it him. The Stoic philosophy did not raise up any heroes among the Greeks, except the great founders Zeno and Cleanthes himself; but while not one Greek statesman professed it, among the Romans, all the great and virtuous public men were either its disciples, or at least, like Cicero, its admirers. It would be the most detestable misconstruing of human virtue, to call Cato’s integrity in question; yet it is quite another thing to say that Cato, with his principles and his philosophy, did infinite harm to the commonwealth. He wanted stoutly to uphold every existing institution, and to allow of nothing that bordered upon arbitrary power. It is well known that Cato estranged the Roman knights from the senate, and made enemies of them, thus tearing open the wound which Cicero with very great difficulty had succeeded in closing: he refused to grant the publicani a request which was not at all an unfair one, merely because he deemed that this would be favouring them. This caused a breach which was never healed. On another occasion, Cato was for voting the execution of Catiline and his accomplices; which was quite in accordance with the laws, but a most unhappy measure for the republic. He did not pay the least regard to existing circumstances, and the consequence was, that he made them much worse. But his personal character was above all blame: profligates might rail at him; but no one dared to slander him, and in this he stood above those times.

Cato had found little happiness in his party, even when Pompey was alive; and now that he was dead, his situation was quite wretched. They were going on in Africa in the most savage manner, and it was with very great trouble indeed that he saved Utica: they had wanted to plunder it, on pretence of the inhabitants being friendly to Cæsar, but in reality to preserve the goodwill of the soldiers. For this, the inhabitants of Utica considered Cato as their saviour, and the town remained quiet, as he had pledged himself that it should. When Cæsar appeared before Utica, Cato advised every one not to prolong their resistance. The generals, and those who were able to bear arms, had fled; so that the garrison consisted mostly of old people and gentlemen of rank: he therefore counselled them to throw themselves on Cæsar’s mercy, bidding even his own son go out and do it. Here he in a fine manner showed himself inconsistent, the father getting the better of the Stoic: he said that he could not indeed live now, he who had seen the better days of the republic; but that his son, who had never known the republic, might embark in the new state of things. The night before the town was to open its gates, he retired to his room and read the Phædo, surely not to find in it the strengthening of his belief in the immortality of the soul, and of his hopes:—of this he had no need; for as a Stoic he believed in immortality, and moreover the Phædo itself does not give this faith to those who have it not:—but as in terrible moments one must find breathing-room for one’s feelings, so he sought for support in the example of a great man, and he very likely was much more taken up with that part of the work in which Socrates’ death is told. He took leave of the world, turning his mind to the contemplation of the last hours of one of the most virtuous men on earth.

He then gave himself the deadly wound. But he fell from the bed in the agonies of death; and when his son and his friends tried to recover him, having pretended to slumber, he tore the wound open, and let his bowels gush out.—The reduction of the other towns was easy enough.

The son of Juba surrendered to Cæsar, and afterwards had such an excellent education bestowed upon him at Rome, that he became one of the most learned men of his time. As he undoubtedly was master of the Punic language, the loss of his books on historical and geographical topics, is very much to be regretted; for in the historical ones, he must have given the substance of what the Carthaginians have written.

At Rome, there was a quarrel between Antony and Dolabella, the son-in-law of Cicero, to whom he caused much grief: both of them were equally bad. Cæsar therefore went thither, and quieted them. From thence the successes of Cneius and Sextus, the sons of Pompey, again called him away to Spain, whither these had betaken themselves from Africa, that they might join a newly formed legion of his which had revolted. Southern Spain had taken up arms for the Pompeians; but not with hearty agreement among themselves, as in the days of Sertorius. This struggle was by far the hardest of any which Cæsar had to go through; it is quite extraordinary, how, when all was exhausted, the people now fought with a rage which had not been seen until then. The beginning of this war may be read in the barbarously written Bellum Hispaniense. After Cæsar had been obliged for several months to put forth all the resources of his mind, to carry on the war within a very limited area in Andalusia and Grenada: the seat of the contest was chiefly in the exceedingly strong fastnesses of the mountains north of Grenada. Cneius had the chief command, and he showed himself here a far more able general than his father had been. In the battle near Munda, the anniversary of which was yesterday (March 17), Cæsar’s fate hung upon a thread: his troops were breaking, and he was already giving up all for lost, when in his despair he jumped from his horse, and placed himself in the way of the fugitives, calling out to them that if they wished to flee, they should cut him down, and not oblige him to outlive such a day. Suwarow behaved very much in the same way at the battle of Kinburn, in the year 1787, when his soldiers refused obedience in an undertaking which he had ordered, because they thought themselves lost. As they now were flying, he cried out to them, “Run, run, and leave your general to the Turks, as a keepsake of your cowardice!” With the greatest trouble, Cæsar stopped his soldiers; but thus he only restored the battle, and he owed his victory to the Mauritanian auxiliaries, who attacked and plundered the Pompeian camp, which was hardly guarded at all. For when Labienus marched with a legion against them, to save the camp and drive them off, the other troops, thinking this to be a retreat, fell back, but did not run. Cæsar had, after the battle, to destroy them one by one: Cneius was wounded and cut down; Sextus remained with the Celtiberians, among whom he hid himself until the death of Cæsar, some time after which he once more played his part in public life. It was several months before Cæsar had reduced the whole of Spain.

On his return from Africa, Cæsar had already had a triumph of four days: there was the Gallic triumph, the Pontic, the Egyptian, and the African one over Juba, in which no Roman general was mentioned. He had now a Spanish triumph, in which the Spanish towns were individually named. The former one had highly pleased the Romans; but this one hurt their feelings, notwithstanding all the presents given to the people and the soldiers, as it was evidently a triumph over their fellow-citizens, although none of them were named. Velleius Paterculus states the amount of the treasures which Cæsar had brought in triumph to Rome, to have been sexies millies (six hundred million sesterces = twenty millions of Prussian dollars). This sum is not at all incredible: even if Cæsar gave to every soldier twenty thousand sesterces (nearly seven hundred dollars), and for all these presents spent even as much as thirty or forty million dollars, which are to be added to that sum, the account is indeed by no means unlikely. But Appian as he is generally understood, states a sum which is quite enormous, even six and a half myriads of talents, which would be a hundred million dollars. But here we are not to think of Attic, but Egyptian, that is to say, copper talents; and thus, though the whole amount does not indeed quite agree with what Velleius tells us, there is no longer any exaggeration. Justus Lipsius did not know how to reconcile this discrepancy.

Cæsar returned in October 707. The last five months of his life were spent partly in his preparations for a Parthian war, and partly in making a number of arrangements in civil affairs: even as early as his return from Africa he had regulated the calendar, and thus done away with a source of intolerable favouritism. In the last times of the republic, it was quite a usual thing to intercalate a month at pleasure by a mere ordinance. Curio in fact had fallen out with the senate, because he too wanted to have a month intercalated for himself, and the pontiff refused.

It is one of the inestimable advantages of legitimate, hereditary, time-honoured, and unquestioned government, whatever may be its form, that it may sometimes outwardly remain inactive when the state is concerned. As in most cases it interferes only where it is absolutely necessary, and it seems to let things take their own course, it meddles very little with people’s affairs; and thus it is also able to allow a much higher degree of individual liberty. A government, on the other hand, which is called a usurpation, and is but newly established, has not only to try and hold its own, but also, in all that it undertakes, it has to prove its inherent right to govern, and to establish its reputation. Those who are placed in such a position, are forced to act from a most grievous necessity; and if this was the case with any one, it was with Cæsar. What could he have undertaken in the centre of the empire? Modern governments may do many things of which the ancients had no notion; and indeed that much cried down, and in many respects baneful system of centralization has still this good effect, that it gives the activity of rulers a wider range. There remained in truth no measures to be carried out by Cæsar, either in Italy or in the provinces; and as he had for fifteen years been accustomed to the most prodigious exertions, he was now as it were in a state of sloth, unless he could employ himself abroad: he must undertake something which would engage his whole soul; rest he no longer could. His first thought was war, and that in countries where since the time of Alexander, the most brilliant military glory was to be earned,—where the unburied bones of the legions of Crassus were still to be revenged,—against the Parthians. The Getæ also had spread in Thrace, and Cæsar wanted likewise to check them. But his grand design was to destroy the empire of the Parthians, and to extend that of the Romans as far as India; and in this he would undoubtedly have not been unsuccessful. He already felt so near the result, that he began to think of what was to be done afterwards; and therefore we may consider the statement as a very likely one, that he then meant to march through the defiles of the Caucasus and ancient Sythia into the land of the Getæ, and to return through Germany and Gaul. These plans of his had all of them a gigantic range: he had other projects besides which were quite as grand. The harbour of Ostia was bad, and large sea-going vessels could not come up the river; he is therefore said to have intended to cut a canal from the Tiber, above or below the city, and through the Pontine marshes as far as Terracina, which should be navigable for large ships to sail up to Rome. He likewise undertook many things which were done at once; so much indeed, that we hardly understand how he could have accomplished the whole of it during the five months which he had still to live. The veterans having now retired, he followed Sylla’s unfortunate precedent, and founded a number of colonies for them throughout Italy: the old soldiers of Sylla, or their children, were many of them driven out, thus reaping the reward of their own cruelty, or that of their fathers, to the inhabitants of the municipia. In Southern Gaul, Corinth, and Carthage, he likewise established colonies again. Corinth, however, was a colonia libertinorum, a thing which it is not easy to account for: everything in the place remained a medley, and it has never risen since to any real prosperity. He also wanted to cut through the isthmus, a plan which I cannot quite understand; owing to the state in which hydraulic architecture was then. The work might indeed have been executed by means of a succession of locks. That these, however, were employed in great canal works among the ancients, we have no proof; yet they were known to them. They were brought to their present perfection, as late as in the fifteenth century, by the Netherlanders.

With regard to the state, he enacted several measures; among others, that of restoring the jus honorum to the children of those whom Sylla had proscribed. He had received from the senate the dictatorship for life, the consulship for ten years, and the right of filling up at once half the offices which the centuries had to give, and recommending for the other half those whom he wished to be nominated; so that henceforth the election was a mere sham. The tribes still had their elections free. Moreover, he made several laws for the relief of debtors, and such like purposes. He raised the number of the prætors to ten, and afterwards to sixteen; that of the quæstors to forty, which was now more than was wanted for filling up the vacancies of the senate: this he had also enlarged, though how much is uncertain.^[14] He gave the citizenship to whom he pleased, and he chose into the senate whom he pleased; so that he filled it with his partisans, which caused much dissatisfaction. Yet it is a striking fact, that at the time of his death, the majority of the senate did not consist of Cæsarians. It is moreover very remarkable, that in all his measures there is no trace to be found of his ever having wanted to modify the constitution, and to put an end to anarchy; for all his changes are in reality but trifling. Sylla meant to do this: it is true that he did not attain his end, and the way in which he set about it was most stupid; but he at least felt the need of it. Cæsar seems not even to have thought upon a remedy for the evil: for his increasing by a special edict the number of the patricians, and his adding new patrician families to the old ones, is a case which has no connexion whatever with the constitution. He did not admit a whole gens into the patrician order, but individuals only and their children; just as one is ennobled in our days. This had no other object than to provide for the filling up of the priestly offices: the new ædiles Cereales even remained limited to the plebs. Had Cæsar died in peace, the state would have been in the same disorganization, as if he had never lived; perhaps it would have been still worse off. His sound sense and his powerful understanding told him, that the solution of the problem was not so easy as Sylla had dreamed; that, on the contrary, it was very difficult, the first condition being that he should become a prince, a condition which of course would seem quite intolerable even in the eyes of many of his partisans, who were quite ready to go on with him as fellow-rebels. And in Cicero’s books de Republica, we may remark throughout his conviction that the Rome of his day could not possibly remain any longer as it was, and that it wanted a king; yet Cicero undoubtedly said to himself the whole time, that no one would listen to his advice.

The title of king had a great charm for Cæsar, as it has had indeed for many a practical man, Cromwell among others. It was so managed that when Cæsar at the Lupercalia had seated himself on the suggestum, Antony offered him the diadem, to see how the people would take it; but Cæsar made a show of declining it, as the people were alarmed, and thereupon a general shout of applause and praise burst forth, which now made it impossible for him to do what he wished. Antony then had the diadem put upon the statue of Cæsar; two of the tribunes, however, Cæsetius Flavus and Epidius Marullus, took it down. Cæsar’s real feelings now betrayed themselves; for, he looked upon this as a personal insult, and having lost all command of himself, wanted to have them arrested: the least that he could be prevailed upon to do, was to deprive them of their office and banish them. This made an immense sensation. On the other hand, he had himself committed a fault, perhaps from absence of mind. When the senate issued those extravagant decrees which conferred upon him unlimited power, and a deputation from the whole body now brought them to him, he neglected to rise from the curule chair, and saluted them but very slightly. This want of courtesy people did not forgive, who had granted to Cæsar everything that he could have wished, but still expected some sort of acknowledgment in return. Cicero, who certainly was no democrat, wrote soon afterwards, turpissimi consulares, turpis senatus, populus fortis, infimus quisque honore fortissimus. The first part of this is true, the latter part exaggerated.

During the last year of Cæsar’s life, Brutus and Cassius were prætors, both of whom had formerly been among the leaders of Pompey’s party. Brutus was a nephew of Cato. Livia, the mother of the latter, had, after the death of her first husband, married Servilius Cæpio; so that Servilia was Cato’s half-sister: Servilia was a profligate woman, unworthy of her son and brother, and she did not even care for the honour of her own daughter. Brutus indeed had very few eminent persons in his family after it had become plebeian. In the first years after the Licinian law, some Junii are to be found in the Fasti; but they are not above mediocrity: at a later period, the family had become truly contemptible. M. Brutus especially disgraced his house: after having carried on the business of an informer (accusationes factitabat), and acted a vile part in the time of Marius, he was put to death by Pompey in Gaul. Thus, although indeed no Roman family was so illustrious as to its gens, Brutus was by no means one of those who have been raised by great and fortunate circumstances. The training of his youth had, however, much effect upon him: his uncle Cato, whose daughter Porcia he afterwards married,—it is uncertain whether this was still in Cato’s lifetime,—had devoted him from a child to the Stoic philosophy, as if it were a religion. Besides this, he had qualities in which Cato was wanting, who had a certain scrupulosity and puritanism about him. Brutus was free from such qualms as these; he had also a finer and more versatile mind, not only endowed by nature with the happiest gifts, but likewise highly cultivated. Cato was not one of the distinguished orators, which Brutus certainly was; and had the latter lived longer, he would undoubtedly have been one of the first writers of Rome. Cicero had quite a fatherly affection for him; he saw in him a man who, he hoped, would one day become the head and heart of the state.^[15] Cæsar’s attention also had been drawn to Brutus whom he had known and loved from a child: it is indeed quite natural that he should have shown fondness for so extraordinary and so amiable a mind; for he had as little of the feeling of envy as Cicero himself. The stories which have gone about of a connexion of a different kind, have been devised by some stupid fellow. Brutus had fought on the side of Pompey at the battle of Pharsalus, and Cæsar immediately afterwards inquired if any one knew what was become of him; on this Brutus wrote to Cæsar, who being quite rejoiced to see that Brutus wished to live, fully trusted him, and gave him the government of Cisalpine Gaul, where he greatly distinguished himself.

Cassius was considerably older than Brutus, to whom he was related. He was a good officer: he bore a very high character in the army; and he had as quæstor, after the death of Crassus, held Syria against the Parthians: yet he was not better than the common run of Cæsar’s officers. He too had been in the ranks of the Pompeians, and when Cæsar, as he was pursuing Pompey, passed over to Asia, he was lying with a squadron of galleys in the Hellespont. Cæsar boldly went in a boat into the midst of his fleet, and asked him to go over to his side, which he did. Cæsar pardoned almost all his enemies: even Marcellus, who had mortally offended him, he forgave at the intercession of Cicero; and as far as in him lay, he tried altogether to do away with the consequences of the war. This year, Cæsar had appointed both Brutus and Cassius to the prætorship, which in fact was a troublesome office, affording but little gratification: the only honourable and lucrative prætorship was the prætura urbana which formerly was given by lot.^[16] This latter dignity both of them now tried to get. Cæsar gave it to Brutus, and this caused a quarrel between Brutus and Cassius.

A meeting of the senate having been appointed for the fifteenth of March, there was a report that the motion was then to be brought forward to give Cæsar the crown. Cassius who both hated Cæsar of old, and also wished to revenge himself upon him for not having got the prætura urbana, made the first advances to Brutus, and sounded him as to whether he would conspire against Cæsar: in the night, inscriptions were left on Brutus’ tribunal and house, which bade him remember that he was a Brutus. Brutus at once held out his hand, and agreed to be reconciled. They enlisted several others, Cæsarians as well as Pompeians, a complete fusion of parties having taken place. Two of the chief conspirators were old generals of Cæsar, Decimus Brutus and C. Trebonius, both of whom he had raised to high honours: they had served in the Gallic war, and had been jointly commissioned to crush the noble town of Massilia. The number of accomplices is unknown; but the conspiracy indiscriminately comprehended people who had fought against each other at Pharsalus (704). No proposals were made to Cicero; but it is a pitiful calumny to say that his courage was mistrusted: to slander a great man in such a way, is really shameful.^[17] They might have been quite sure of his courage; what they feared were his objections. Brutus had as fine a soul as any one could have, but he was passionate; Cicero, on the other hand, had arrived at mature age, and had become a sadder and a wiser man: his feelings moreover were of such extraordinary delicacy that he would never have betrayed his benefactor to whom he owed his life, a man who had always behaved towards him in the handsomest and noblest manner, and who had particularly distinguished him before the world as his friend. Nor could the conspirators conceal from themselves, that the undertaking which they were plotting could not but displease a wise man. Goethe has branded the murder of Cæsar as the greatest folly which the Romans ever committed; and never was a truer word spoken.^[18] Hirtius and Pansa, two generous and wise men who were well aware that the republic needed to become settled, and not to be stirred up again, had advised Cæsar to look to himself, and to keep a body guard; but he disdained to do this, saying, that he would not wish to live, if he had always to think of preserving his life. He knew well that Brutus might entertain such a thought against him, and he spoke of it to his friends; but he would add, that his health had indeed been too much impaired, and Brutus would surely wait until that frail body of his had gone to decay. And it was the general belief that Cæsar would soon transfer his power to Brutus, as the most worthy to succeed him. It was while these things were going on, that Porcia, when she saw that Brutus was harbouring an important secret, and that he did not make her his confidante, inflicted upon herself a deep wound with a knife. The wound brought on a fever, the cause of which she hid from her husband; and it was only when he repeatedly pressed her, that she at last disclosed it, thus giving him a proof of her discretion. Cæsar went to the curia, although his own forebodings, the dreams of his wife, and the prophecies of the Haruspex had warned him of his death: Dec. Brutus basely enticed him thither. The conspirators were at first seized with fear, lest their plot should have been betrayed. Plutarch now beautifully tells us, how C. Tillius Cimber forced his way up to Cæsar, and worried him with his importunity, until he got angry; how Casca struck the first blow; and how Cæsar was murdered by twenty-three stabs. He lost his life in his fifty-sixth year, or after its completion.—I am not yet quite clear as to this point; but the latter seems to me more likely, judging from the time of his first consulship.—He was born on the eleventh of July, and died on the fifteenth of March, between eleven and twelve o’clock.