THERE was wild tumult in the ancient city of Rome. The populace thronged the streets, carrying stones and bludgeons. Armed troops hurried hither and thither. The members of the Senate, a sort of House of Lords, were assembled in confusion; and their blanched faces denoted the terror which rendered them powerless to help. Several of the principal citizens had been murdered, and the other Roman lords, or patricians, knew not how soon their doom might come. But who was their terrible foe? Had some wild barbarian horde invaded their land and taken possession of their proud and magnificent city? Why did the nobles and men of rank tremble; and why were the common people roused to this wild outburst of fury?

It was no barbarian enemy, but civil discord amongst themselves, which thus filled the streets with murderers and the patricians with terror. Two powerful rivals were fighting for the possession of the Eternal City, which, at that time, was mistress of the world.

Marius, the plebian, or champion of the common people, had roused the populace to fight against Sylla, the patrician, who had been absent with his army in Italy. Sylla had been appointed by the Senate to command the forces which were to wage war with Mithridates, a powerful Asiatic monarch. But during his absence, his enemy, Marius, had contrived to have this appointment revoked, and to gain for himself this coveted command. Two officers, called tribunes, were sent to Sylla’s camp, to inform him of this advantage which his rival had gained over him. Sylla killed the two officers for daring to bring him such a message, and immediately marched towards Rome.

Marius, in retaliation, caused some of Sylla’s friends in the city to be put to death, and with his bands of soldiers endeavored to resist the entrance of Sylla and his army by throwing stones upon the troops from the roofs of the houses as they entered the city. Sylla then ordered every house to be set on fire, from which missiles had been thrown, and thus the helpless citizens were endangered by lawless and infuriated mobs on the one side, and relentless flames on the other. Marius was conquered, and obliged to flee for his life. He was an old man of seventy years of age. The Senate declared him a public enemy, and offered a large sum for his head. Alone and friendless, Marius wandered from place to place, enduring the greatest privations, and encountering many dangers, till at last he crossed the Mediterranean Sea, and took refuge in a poor hut among the ruins of ancient Carthage. Surely it would seem that his days of conquest were over. Alone, starving, helpless, old, and banished, with a heavy price set upon his head, his fortunes seemed indeed hopeless.

Leaving this fallen champion in his hut, amidst the ruins of a past power which could only remind him of his own hopeless prospects, we must return to the city of Rome, and look upon another scene.

A religious procession is wending its way through the famous Forum. This Forum was a magnificent square, surrounded by splendid edifices and adorned with sculptures and statues and many gorgeous trophies of past victories. There were vast colonnades forming covered porticoes, where the populace assembled and where courts of justice were held. This Forum was constantly embellished with new monuments, temples, statues, arches, and columns by the successful generals, as they returned in triumph from foreign campaigns. Here the various orators delivered their famous orations which inflamed the people to arms, or moved them to wild outbursts of enthusiastic applause in favor of some successful candidate, or calmed their boisterous tumult into silent and breathless attention to the impassioned and eloquent words which fell from the lips of these intellectual monarchs over the minds of their less gifted countrymen. It is night now in this great public square, and as the procession of priests and attendants slowly pass beneath a row of majestic colonnades and enter one of the temples, we note the face and figure of the foremost one. He is scarcely more than a boy, but he wears the purple robe called lÆna, and a conical mitre known as the apex, which mark his distinguished rank as holding the office of Flamen Dialis, or High Priest of Jupiter. This youth, seventeen years of age, is tall and fair, and though slender in form, is handsome and noble in bearing. He is descended from patrician families of high rank and proud position; and as he passes within the portal of the sacred temple, the beholder would involuntarily cast upon him an admiring glance, and if a stranger, would surely inquire who was this comely, noble youth who so early in life was distinguished by so high an office and royal bearing.

Again we enter the Forum, but it is now high noon. A noted orator has ascended the pulpit, where public speakers were accustomed to stand when addressing the assemblies. This pulpit was ornamented with brazen beaks of ships, which had been taken by the Romans in their many wars. Such a beak was named a rostrum, and the pulpit so adorned was called the Rostra, or the Beaks,—often termed in modern books a rostrum. As the orator of the day began to speak, a youth might have been seen pressing through the crowd, and listening with wrapt attention to the eloquent words which fell from the speaker’s lips. As the burst of impassioned appeal became more persuasive, the dark eyes of the youth flashed with responsive fire, and his cheek glowed with a flush of kindling enthusiasm. Though he wears now the robes of a Roman patrician, we recognize him as the same person whom we beheld at midnight entering the temple in the attire of a High Priest of Jupiter.

Again the scene changes to midnight, but it is not in the Roman Forum, but at a grand feast in one of the sumptuous palaces of a Roman lord. Amidst a party of gay and joyous young men, seemingly intent only upon luxurious pleasures, we see once more the face and figure of this same youth who has already so attracted our interest and admiration. Priest, student, devotÉe of pleasure, little did his companions or acquaintances imagine that this young Julius CÆsar, patrician born, but at the same time personally inclined towards the plebeian party, would become Julius CÆsar, future Master of Rome, and therefore ruler of nearly all of the then known world. This Julius CÆsar became the greatest hero of Roman history, and ranks as one of the three heroes of ancient days,—Alexander of the Greeks, Hannibal of the Carthaginians, and Julius CÆsar of the Romans, forming the famous trio.

Again we must return to the old exile among the ruins of Carthage. One day he is awakened from his hopeless despondency by wild rumors from Rome. His rival and enemy, Sylla, had equipped a fleet and sailed away to wage war with Mithridates. The friends of Marius now rally again, and the old exile is brought back from Africa in triumph and given the command of a large army. As he pretended to be the friend of the common people, they flocked to his standard. Vast multitudes of revolted slaves, outlaws, and desperadoes joined his forces, which now advanced toward Rome. As soon as Marius gained possession of the city, he began a dreadful work of murder and destruction. He beheaded one of the consuls, and ordered his head to be set up as a spectacle of horror in the public square. Blood ran like a red river in the streets of Rome. Patricians of the highest rank and station were everywhere seized without warning, without trial, and put to torture and death.

It is midnight in the great city, and under cover of the darkness, the evil deeds of blood-thirsty men, fired by hatred and lawless ambition, are renewed with fresh ferocity.

Against his bitterest enemies Marius contrived special modes of execution, in order to wreak upon them his insatiable revenge for his exile, and consequent sufferings and privations.

See! a party of men, composed of soldiers, and an enfuriated mob of people are dragging a lord of noble rank up to the top of a high rock, known as the Tarpeian Rock, from the summit of which state criminals were hurled down the precipice, upon sharp rocks below, where they were left to die in awful torture. This patrician, or Roman noble, had incurred the especial animosity of Marius, and so by his orders, the proud old man is torn from family and friends; and without trial, with the senate powerless to help, he is dragged here at midnight to suffer the ignominious and terrible death of a state criminal. This noted Tarpeian Rock still stands in Rome, and it received its name from this ancient story. In early times there was a Roman girl, named Tarpeia, living in the ancient city, when it was besieged by an army from a neighboring country. The soldiers of the besieging forces wore golden bracelets upon their arms, as well as shields; and upon demanding that Tarpeia should open the gates to them, she declared that if they would give her, “those things they wore upon their arms,” she would comply with their demands. She meant, of course, their bracelets; but not knowing the word by which they were designated, she brought upon herself a fearful doom. The soldiers agreed to grant her desire, and so she opened to them the gates. As they passed within, they threw their shields upon the poor girl, in proud derision, instead of giving her the coveted bracelets, exclaiming, “Here are the things we wear upon our arms.” Tarpeia was crushed to death beneath the weight of the ponderous shields; and so the spot where she fell became a rock of blood, and was ever afterwards called, in remembrance of her sad fate, the Tarpeian Rock. There is a further legend connected with this spot, for some of the ignorant people believe that in the interior of one of the many caverns, which have been found perforating this rock, Tarpeia still sits, enchanted, covered with gold and jewels. But should any one attempt to find her, he is fated to lose his way, and never to return from his reckless adventure. But the bloody triumph of Marius was of short duration. He was seized with a fatal sickness, and the cruel tyrant was obliged to meet an enemy he could not conquer. Death meted out to him some of the horrible torments he had inflicted upon others, as he died in delirious ravings, haunted by the presence of phantom foes. His son Marius assumed his father’s power; but Sylla, having returned from the Asiatic wars, and in his turn taking possession of the city of Rome, the followers of Marius were put to death with the same ferocity with which they had murdered others, and Sylla even exceeded the bloody deeds which had so brutally been performed by his hated rival. Thus the city of Rome was again plunged into wild confusion, and the scenes of murder and massacre, with all their shocking horrors, were re-enacted.

It is at this time that the young Julius CÆsar first becomes a prominent figure in that bloody drama. Although Julius CÆsar was a patrician by birth, he was favorable to the plebian party. The elder Marius had married his aunt, and CÆsar himself had married a daughter of Cinna, who was four times consul, and was a powerful and ardent partisan of the party of Marius. Julius CÆsar, although at this time a very young man, was too prominent a person to be overlooked by Sylla, in his vengeance against the plebian party. The friends of Julius CÆsar tried to plead his youth with Sylla, saying that surely such a mere boy could do no harm. But Sylla had marked the aspiring spirit of the young nobleman, who with all his love of gayety and pleasure had not neglected his studies, and who was already gaining the dangerous reputation of an eloquent orator. Sylla now demanded that Julius CÆsar should divorce his wife Cornelia, the daughter of Cinna. CÆsar absolutely refused, partly from devotion to his wife, and partly from a proud indomitable spirit, which thus early was a prominent trait in his character, and which made him brave any danger rather than allow himself to be controlled. Knowing that punishment for his refusal to comply with the commands of Sylla would be destruction, CÆsar fled from Rome. Sylla deprived him of his rank and titles, confiscated the property of his wife and his own estates, and placed his name on the list of public enemies.

CÆsar was now a fugitive and exile. He was also suffering from intermittent fever, and was obliged to seek some new place of refuge each day, as a price was set upon his head. He was at one time seized by a centurion, but CÆsar offered him a bribe sufficient to secure his release. After various adventures, he wandered into Asia Minor, and coming to the kingdom of Bithynia, he joined himself to the court of the king Nicomedes, and remained some time in that country. After leaving Bithynia, Julius CÆsar, while sailing near the isle of Pharmacusa, was taken prisoner by some pirates from a mountainous country called Cilicia. These Cilician pirates were half sailors and half mountaineers. They built swift galleys, and made excursions over the Mediterranean Sea for conquest and plunder. CÆsar asked the pirates what sum they demanded for his ransom. They replied twenty talents, whereupon CÆsar laughed at such a paltry sum being considered sufficient for his ransom, and told them they evidently did not know who he was. He then declared he would give them fifty talents, and forthwith sent all of his companions and attendants to the shore to go to the cities where he was known, and secure the sum required. Meanwhile he boldly remained among these rough men, with no attendants but a physician and two servants. CÆsar now assumed command over his very captors, giving orders, and demanding quiet when he wished to sleep. He joined them in their sports, and wrote and read orations to them as though he was their ruler. His boldness and skill elicited their profound admiration. The pirates one day asked him what he would do to them if he should ever capture them after obtaining his own release. He replied laughingly that he would crucify them all. This, though a seeming jest, was well fulfilled. His attendants, having returned with the ransom money, Julius CÆsar was released. He proceeded immediately to Miletus, equipped a small fleet, then sailed back to the place where the ships of the pirates still lay at anchor, and having attacked them, he recovered the ransom money, seized their ships, and took all the men prisoners. He carried his captives to the land, and having cut all their throats he hung their dead bodies upon crosses, in fulfilment of his threat.

Julius CÆsar then went to Rhodes, where his former teacher Apollonius, a noted philosopher and rhetorician, resided. Cicero was also one of the pupils of this philosopher. CÆsar at length obtained pardon from Sylla, through the intercession of the vestal virgins and some of his friends. When Sylla at last yielded to their importunity, he exclaimed, “Your suit is granted; but know that this man, for whose safety you are so extremely anxious, will some day or other be the ruin of the party of the nobles, in defence of which you are leagued with me, for in this one CÆsar you will find many a Marius.” Sylla had since died, and though the aristocratical party were still in the ascendency, the party of Marius were recovering somewhat from their overthrow.

Julius CÆsar now returned to Rome, and boldly espoused the popular cause. His first public act was the arraignment of Dolabella, governor of the province of Macedonia. When the trial came on CÆsar appeared in the Forum, and gained great applause for his eloquence and daring. Dolabella was defended by noted orators, and was acquitted by the Senate. But Julius CÆsar had displayed his marvellous powers of eloquence, which immediately gave him great renown.

CÆsar now devoted himself to public speaking in the Forum, and acquired much celebrity. He pronounced a splendid panegyric upon the wife of Marius at her funeral; and also upon his wife Cornelia, who died soon after. CÆsar now became ambitious of securing public offices, and lavished large sums in shows and spectacles to amuse the people and secure their votes. He thus became deeply involved in debt, but he was still successful in rising from one office to still higher positions, until he obtained that of quÆstor in the province of Spain. This was the second office in command, the first officer being called a prÆtor. During his absence in Spain, CÆsar beheld a statue of Alexander the Great, which adorned one of the public buildings in the city of Cadiz, or Hades, as it was then called. CÆsar was now about thirty-five years of age, and reflecting upon the conquests of Alexander, who had died when only thirty-two years of age, CÆsar sighed over his own tardy accomplishment of his lofty ambitions, and leaving his post, returned to Rome, determined to seek higher honors.

He was chosen Ædile by the people. He now had charge of the public edifices of the city, and of the games and spectacles which were exhibited in them. The arrangements made by him for the amusement of the people were on the most magnificent and extravagant scale. He exhibited three hundred and twenty pair of gladiators, and he made great additions to the public buildings. He now endeavored to have Egypt assigned to him as a province; but the senate resisted this plan, and CÆsar was obliged to abandon it. About this time, CÆsar obtained a triumph over the senate, who were very jealous of his increasing power. He replaced the statues and trophies of Marius in the capital, which had been taken down and destroyed by the order of Sylla when he returned to power. In their place, CÆsar had ordered magnificent new ones to be made, and put up secretly in the night. The senate endeavored to take them down again, but the people rallied in such vast numbers, as to prevent the work of destruction, and CÆsar was triumphant.

A dangerous conspiracy, headed by the notorious Catiline, was now discovered, and several conspirators were arrested. It was when the senate was debating whether they should be put to death, that CÆsar made his noted speech which was replied to so hotly by Cato.

CÆsar was by some accused of being cognizant of this plot, if he were not indeed a participant.

After the death of Cornelia, CÆsar had married Pompeia, but he afterwards divorced her. Julius CÆsar now began to plan for a still higher office, and upon the death of Metellus, the chief pontiff, CÆsar solicited the office.

He was now so heavily involved in debt, that he faced ruin if defeated, or glory if elected. When the day of election came, CÆsar parted with his mother, saving,—“You will see me this day either chief pontiff or an exile.”

But he succeeded in gaining the election. Having obtained this added power, he desired to procure the position of prÆtor in Spain. This he also secured, but so large were his debts, that Crassus, a man of immense wealth, was, by CÆsar’s promises of using his political power in his behalf, persuaded to lend him the sum needed to satisfy his creditors.

CÆsar was very successful in his province in Spain, and he returned in a short time with military glory, and with money sufficient to pay his debts, and furnish fresh supplies for further bribes to secure still higher positions. He now aspired to the office of consul, which was the highest office in the Roman state.

At this time, Pompey was the military idol of the people, and Crassus, powerful on account of his vast wealth, was Pompey’s bitter enemy. CÆsar conceived the plan of reconciling these two dangerous foes, and availing himself of the aid of both to further his own ambitious projects.

CÆsar was successful in this plan, and they then formed a triple league, binding themselves to promote the political elevation of each other. Having secured such powerful adherents, CÆsar now pushed his claims for consulship. He chose a man of great wealth, named Lucceius, to be associated with himself, who agreed to pay all the expenses of the election, for the sake of the honor of being consul with CÆsar. But the political enemies of CÆsar, knowing that they could not defeat his election, determined to place Bibulus, in the place of Lucceius, as the associate of CÆsar. Accordingly they raised as much money to expend for Bibulus as Lucceius should employ. The result was the election of CÆsar and Bibulus as the two consuls. But having entered upon the duties of that office, CÆsar so completely ignored Bibulus, and assumed so entirely the whole control of the consular power, that Bibulus retired to his house in chagrin and mortification, and allowed CÆsar to have his own way. Two consuls were always required by law, and so the wags of the city, in speaking of CÆsar’s consulship, instead of saying, “In the year of CÆsar and Bibulus, consuls,” according to the usual form, would often say, “In the year of Julius and CÆsar, consuls,” ignoring the name of Bibulus, and taking the two names of CÆsar to denote his supreme rule.

CÆsar’s ambition was not yet satisfied. He had secured the highest place in the state, and now he aspired to military glory and foreign conquest. Having obtained the command of an army, he entered upon a campaign in the heart of Europe, which he continued for eight years.

The large tract of country now known as Northern Italy, Switzerland, France, Germany, and England, was then spoken of as Gaul. The part on the Italian side of the Alps was called Cisalpine Gaul, and that which lay beyond was termed Transalpine Gaul.

CÆsar now placed himself at the head of an army of three Roman legions, and set out for Gaul. The first battle he fought was with the German king Ariovistus. CÆsar was victorious, and the Germans were put in complete subjection. Other provinces of Gaul now submitted without resistance, and those who determined to league together to resist this new military power were soon brought to submission.

One of the most interesting of the various excursions made by CÆsar during these eight years was his expedition into Great Britain.

When CÆsar arrived on the northern shores of France, he began to inquire of all the travelling merchants whom he met, and who in those days journeyed from one nation to another to buy and sell goods, about the best manner of crossing the channel, and regarding the people on the English side of the water. But the merchants could give him little information, and so he fitted out a galley, manned with many oarsmen, and placing it under the command of an officer, he directed him to cross the channel and discover the best harbors to land on the other side, and then to return and report. This officer was gone five days, and upon his return, CÆsar determined to transport his troops across the channel. CÆsar had collected a large number of sailing vessels upon which he embarked his forces, and upon a given day, at one o’clock in the morning, the fleet set sail.

The Britons had in the meantime learned of CÆsar’s intended invasion, and they collected in vast numbers to guard the shore.

When the Roman fleet approached the land, the cliffs were everywhere lined with troops of Britons, and every available point was well guarded.

CÆsar now proceeded with his fleet along the shore, the Britons following on the land until a level plain was reached. Here CÆsar determined to attempt to disembark. A dreadful struggle ensued. The Britons plunged into the water, and the Romans shot darts and arrows from the decks of the vessels upon the assailants of their comrades, who were endeavoring to make the landing. The Britons were at last driven back, and CÆsar succeeded in obtaining possession of the shore.

These campaigns of CÆsar, in a military point of view, were a succession of magnificent exploits. The people at Rome were unbounded in their enthusiastic praise, and decreed him triumph after triumph, and were prepared to welcome him with high honors when he should return. Plutarch says of these eight years of foreign conquest, that CÆsar took eight hundred cities, conquered three hundred nations, fought pitched battles, at separate times, with three millions of men, took one million of them prisoners, and killed another million on the field.

From a humane standpoint, however, what a fearful destruction of human lives, to satisfy the insatiable ambition of one man. How much more desirable would have been the fame of blessing, rather than destroying and injuring three millions of his fellow men. The time was now drawing near for CÆsar’s return to Rome. During his absence a dangerous rival had become the idol of the fickle people. After the death of Pompey’s wife Julia, who was the daughter of Julius CÆsar, the former alliance between these two powerful rivals had been broken, and they were now open foes. While CÆsar was absent in Gaul, he had not neglected to endeavor to retain his hold upon the populace of Rome. He had distributed vast sums for the adornment of the city. He expended over four million dollars in purchasing ground for the enlargement of the Forum; and when he heard of the death of his daughter Julia, the wife of Pompey, he ordered her funeral to be celebrated with gorgeous splendor. He distributed corn in immense quantities among the people, and sent home many captives to be trained as gladiators to amuse the populace in the theatres. Men were astounded at the magnitude of these vast expenditures; but Pompey was, nevertheless, fast securing the heart of the people. Pompey, in his vanity, imagined that he was so far above CÆsar that he need feel no solicitude at the return of his rival, and therefore took no precautions to resist any hostile designs. CÆsar had now advanced toward the Rubicon, which was a little stream that formed the boundary line between the north of Italy, which was a Roman province called Hither Gaul, and the immediate jurisdiction of the city of Rome.

Generals commanding in Gaul were never allowed to pass this river with an army. Hence, to cross the Rubicon with an armed force, was rebellion and treason. When CÆsar arrived at the farther shore of this small but significant stream, he halted at a small town called Ravenna, and established his headquarters there. Pompey now sent to him to demand the return of a legion he had lent him when they were friends. CÆsar returned the legion immediately, adding some of his own troops to show his indifference to the size of his own force.

In the meantime, the partisans of CÆsar and Pompey in the city of Rome, grew more threatening in their struggles. The friends of CÆsar demanded that he should be elected consul. The friends of Pompey replied that CÆsar must first resign the command of his army, and come to Rome and present himself as a candidate in the character of a private citizen, as the constitution of the state required. CÆsar replied that if Pompey would lay down his arms, he would also do so; but otherwise, it was unjust to require it of him. This privilege he demanded as a recompense for the services he had rendered to the state. A large part of the people sided with CÆsar; but the partisans of Pompey, with the inflexible Cato at their head, withstood the demand. The city was much excited over the impending conflict. Pompey displayed no fear, and urged the Senate to resist all of CÆsar’s claims, saying, that if CÆsar should presumptuously dare to march with his forces to Rome, he could raise troops enough to subdue him by merely stamping on the ground. CÆsar meanwhile had been quietly making his preparations at Ravenna. It was his policy to move as privately as possible. Accordingly, he sent some cohorts to march secretly to the banks of the river, and encamp there, while he employed himself in his usual occupation. He had established a fencing school, and on the very eve of his departure he went as usual to this school, then feasted with his friends, going afterwards with them to a public entertainment. As soon as it was dark enough, and the streets were deserted, he stole away with a few attendants. During the night, CÆsar and his guides found themselves lost, and they wandered about until nearly break of day, when a peasant guided them to the shore, where he found his troops awaiting him. Having arrived at the banks of the stream, CÆsar stood for some moments musing upon the step he was about to take. If he crossed that narrow stream retreat would be impossible. The story is told that a shepherd coming up took the trumpet from one of CÆsar’s trumpeters, and sounded a charge, marching rapidly over the bridge at the same time. “An omen! a prodigy!” exclaimed CÆsar. “Let us march where we are called by such a divine intimation—The die is cast!”

As soon as the bridge was crossed, CÆsar called an assembly of his troops, and made an eloquent appeal to them, urging them to stand faithful to him, and promising them large rewards should he be successful. The soldiers responded with enthusiastic applause. As CÆsar advanced towards Rome, several towns surrendered to him without resistance. He met with but one opposition. The Senate had deposed CÆsar from his command during the hot debates preceding his crossing of the Rubicon, and had appointed Domitius to succeed him. That general had crossed the Apennines at the head of an army, and had reached the town of Corfinium. CÆsar advanced and besieged him there. The town was soon captured; and CÆsar, to the surprise of everyone, who supposed he would wreak vengeance upon his foes, received the troops into his own service, and let Domitius go free. News had now reached the city of Rome, of CÆsar’s crossing the Rubicon, and rapid advance. The Senate were terribly alarmed, and looked to Pompey in vain for help. Pompey himself was terrified, but could do nothing; and the Senate then derisively called upon him to raise the promised army of which he had boasted, telling him they thought it was high time to stamp with his feet, as he declared that by so doing he could secure a force large enough to defeat CÆsar. Cato and many of the prominent men fled from the city.

Pompey, calling upon all his partisans to follow him, set forth at night to retreat across the country towards the Adriatic Sea.

CÆsar was rapidly advancing toward Rome. As all supplies of money were cut off by his crossing the Rubicon, which severed his connection with the government, his soldiers voted to serve him without pay. His treatment of Domitius was much applauded by the people. He himself says, in a letter written to a friend at the time, “I am glad that you approve of my conduct at Corfinium. I am satisfied that such a course is the best one for us to pursue, as by so doing we shall gain the good will of all parties, and thus secure a permanent victory. Most conquerors have incurred the hatred of mankind by their cruelties, and have all, in consequence of the enmity they have thus awakened, been prevented from long enjoying their power. Sylla was an exception, but his example of successful cruelty I have no disposition to imitate. I will conquer after a new fashion, and fortify myself in the possession of the power I acquire by generosity and mercy.”

CÆsar now pursued Pompey to Brundusium, whither Pompey had retreated. CÆsar laid siege to the city, but Pompey secretly made preparations for embarking his troops. He caused all the streets to be barricaded, except two, which led to the landing, and in the darkness of the night, he began embarking his forces as fast as possible on board of transports already provided. CÆsar was made aware of this fact, and his army quickly brought ladders and scaled the walls of the city, but the barricaded streets so impeded their progress through the darkness of the night, that Pompey and his troops succeeded in sailing away. As CÆsar had no ships, he continued his march to Rome, and entering the city without opposition, re-established the government and took control. After various subsequent campaigns in Italy, Spain, Sicily, and Gaul, which resulted in completely subjugating these nations to his dominion, he commenced the pursuit of Pompey, across the Adriatic Sea.

As Pompey had cleared the seas of every vessel which could aid him in his flight, CÆsar had great difficulty in procuring even a sufficient number of galleys to transport a part of his army, and embarking with these he landed on the opposite shore, and sent back the galleys for the remainder of his forces, while he pursued Pompey with the troops already with him. Some of Pompey’s generals intercepted a part of CÆsar’s galleys, and destroyed them; the sea also, becoming very boisterous, the troops were afraid to embark, not being stimulated to courage by the presence and voice of CÆsar. Julius CÆsar still pursued Pompey, who constantly retreated; and the winter wore away with no decided battle, and leaving both armies in a suffering condition. At last, one stormy night, CÆsar determined to embark upon a galley and return to the Italian side, and bring the remainder of his army over. CÆsar disguised himself in a long cloak, with his head muffled in his mantle, and thus got aboard the galley and ordered the men to row him across. A violent wind arose, and the waves were so high that at last the rowers declared they could go no further; CÆsar then came forward, threw off his mantle, and exclaimed: “Friends, you have nothing to fear; you are carrying CÆsar!” Thus inspired the men put forth herculean efforts, but all to no purpose, and CÆsar was obliged, reluctantly, to turn back. His army on the Italian shore, however, hearing of this brave deed were inspired with new courage, and making another attempt, they were successful in joining CÆsar, who, thus strengthened, planned for a vigorous attack in the spring. A parley had been held several times between the hostile hosts, but to no effect; and many skirmishes and partial conflicts took place, but no decided battle. At one time, Pompey’s troops so hemmed in the army of CÆsar that his forces suffered for want of food, but his soldiers bravely made use of a sort of root which they dug from the ground, and made into a kind of bread, telling CÆsar they would live upon the bark of trees rather than abandon his cause. At length the army of Pompey was in turn hemmed in by CÆsar’s forces, and becoming very desperate, on account of the distress occasioned by want of food and water, Pompey made some successful attacks upon CÆsar’s lines, and broke away from his enemy’s grasp.

At last, however, they came to open battle on the plain of Pharsalia. As Pompey’s forces far outnumbered those of CÆsar he felt confident of victory. “The hour at length arrived; the charge was sounded by the trumpets, and CÆsar’s troops began to advance with loud shouts and great impetuosity toward Pompey’s lines. There was a long and terrible struggle, but the forces of Pompey began finally to give way. Notwithstanding the precautions which Pompey had taken to guard and protect the wing of his army which was extended toward the land, CÆsar succeeded in turning his flank upon that side by driving off the cavalry, and destroying the archers and slingers; and he was thus enabled to throw a strong force upon Pompey’s rear. The flight then soon became general, and a scene of dreadful confusion and slaughter ensued. The soldiers of CÆsar’s army, maddened with the insane rage which the progress of a battle never fails to awaken, and now excited to frenzy by the exultation of success, pressed on after the affrighted fugitives, who trampled one upon another or fell pierced with the weapons of their assailants, filling the air with their cries of agony and their shrieks of terror.”

When Pompey perceived that all was lost he fled from the field, and having disguised himself as a common soldier, he retreated with a few attendants until he reached the Vale of Tempe in Thessaly. Here, in this picturesque spot, noted for its beautiful scenery, the fallen Pompey took his weary way. Having at length reached the Ægean Sea, he took refuge in a fisherman’s hut; hearing still of CÆsar’s pursuit he did not dare to rest, but embarked the next morning in a little vessel, with three attendants. He was afterwards taken up by the commander of a merchant ship, and was at length conveyed to the island of Lesbos, where his wife, Cornelia, was residing; Pompey had married her after the death of Julia, CÆsar’s daughter. Cornelia now provided a small fleet, and, determining to accompany her husband, they set sail upon the Mediterranean Sea. At last Pompey decided to seek refuge in Egypt. Some years before Pompey had been the means of restoring a king of Egypt to his throne; this king had since died, but had left his daughter, the famous Cleopatra, on the throne, to rule, conjointly, with a younger brother, named Ptolemy. At this time, the Egyptian ministers, who acted for the young prince, who was not old enough to be invested with the royal power, had dethroned Cleopatra that they might thus govern alone.

Cleopatra went into Syria to raise an army to recover her lost throne, and Ptolemy’s ministers had gone forth to battle with her. It was then that Pompey arrived in Egypt, and thinking that the young prince Ptolemy would receive him on account of the services Pompey had rendered to the Egyptian king, father of Ptolemy, Pompey and Cornelia, with their little fleet, approached the shore intending to land. A messenger was sent to the young king to solicit a kind reception. The Egyptian ministers of Ptolemy persuaded him that it would be dangerous either to grant or refuse Pompey’s request, and therefore, counselled that he might be invited to their camp, and then that he should be killed; this would please CÆsar, who was now so powerful, and it would put Pompey out of their way. This ungrateful counsel prevailed, and an Egyptian was appointed to perform the bloody deed. A courteous invitation was sent to Pompey to land, who, however, parted with his wife, Cornelia, with many forebodings of evil. As the boat of the Egyptians reached Pompey’s galley the officers hailed him with every mark of respect; bidding Cornelia farewell, Pompey, with two centurions, stepped into the Egyptian boat and was rowed to the shore. Just as he was about to step from the boat the assassins drew their swords, and Pompey was slain before the very eyes of his wife, who beheld the bloody scene from the deck of her galley, and her piercing shriek was wafted to the ears of her dying husband. The Egyptians then cut off the head of Pompey, leaving the headless body lying upon the shore. The two centurions who had accompanied Pompey, afterwards burned the body, and sent the ashes to the heartbroken Cornelia.

CÆsar, in pursuit of Pompey, soon after reached Alexandria, where he learned of his death; and the Egyptians, hoping to please him, presented to him the bloody head of his late enemy. But though CÆsar was very ambitious, he was not blood-thirsty, nor brutal in his wars. Instead of being pleased with such a ghastly gift, CÆsar turned from the shocking spectacle in horror. While CÆsar was in Alexandria many of Pompey’s officers came and surrendered themselves to him; and CÆsar, finding himself so powerful, determined to use his authority as Roman consul, to settle the dispute between Cleopatra and her brother Ptolemy. It was at this time that Cleopatra, in order to plead her cause, was brought by her commands to CÆsar’s quarters, rolled up in a bale of carpeting, and carried upon the shoulders of a slave. As all the avenues of approach to CÆsar’s apartments were in the possession of her enemies she feared falling into their hands. CÆsar espoused her cause, and determined that she and her brother Ptolemy should reign jointly. Ptolemy was so incensed against his sister, for thus securing CÆsar’s allegiance, that a violent war was waged between the Egyptians and CÆsar. This is called in history the Alexandrine War. In the course of this contest CÆsar took possession of the famous lighthouse of Pharos, one of the Seven Wonders of the world. During the progress of this war a great disaster occurred, which was the burning of the famous Alexandrian library. The number of volumes, or rolls of parchment there collected, was said to have been seven hundred thousand. When we remember that the people in those days possessed no printed books, and that each one of these rolls had been written by hand, with immense labor, and at vast expense, the loss to the world of works which could never be reproduced was irreparable. CÆsar was victorious in this war. The young king Ptolemy was defeated, and in attempting to retreat across one of the branches of the Nile he was drowned. CÆsar finally settled Cleopatra and a younger brother upon the throne of Egypt and returned to Rome. While CÆsar was in Egypt three great powers had arisen against him, in Asia Minor, in Africa, and in Spain.

He first went to Asia Minor and so quickly defeated his enemies there, that it was in reference to this battle that he wrote the famous inscription for his banner, which appeared in his triumphal procession, “Veni, Vidi, Vici,” I came, I saw, I conquered. CÆsar then proceeded to Africa, where his old enemy Cato had raised a large force against him. CÆsar was successful also in this contest, and finally shut up Cato in the city of Utica. Cato, finding defence hopeless, killed himself.

From Africa, CÆsar returned to Rome for a short time, and then went to Spain to put down the rebellion there which was led by the sons of Pompey. Here also he was successful, and the conqueror returned to Rome the undisputed master of the whole Roman world. Then came his magnificent triumphs. CÆsar celebrated four triumphs for his four great campaigns, in Egypt, in Asia Minor, in Africa, and in Spain. These were celebrated upon separate days. These triumphs were gorgeous in the extreme. Forty elephants were employed as torch-bearers in one triumph which took place at night, each elephant holding a great blazing flambeau in his proboscis and waving it proudly in the air. These triumphal processions are thus described by one historian. “In these triumphal processions everything was borne in exhibition which could serve as a symbol of the conquered country or a trophy of victory. Flags and banners, taken from the enemy; vessels of gold and silver and other treasures loaded in vans; wretched captives conveyed in open carriages, or marching sorrowfully on foot, and destined, some of them, to public execution when the ceremony of the triumph was ended; displays of arms and implements and dresses and all else which might serve to give the Roman crowd an idea of the customs and usages of the remote and conquered nations; the animals they used caparisoned in the manner in which they used them; these and a thousand other trophies and emblems were brought into the line to excite the admiration of the crowd, and to add to the gorgeousness of the spectacle. In these triumphs of CÆsar a young sister of Cleopatra, wearing chains of gold, was in the line of the Egyptian procession. In that devoted to Asia Minor was a great banner containing the words already referred to, Veni, Vidi, Vici. There were great paintings, too, borne aloft, representing battles and other striking scenes. Of course, all Rome was in the highest state of excitement during the days of the exhibition of this pageantry.

“The whole surrounding country flocked to the capital to witness it, and CÆsar’s greatness and glory were signalized in the most conspicuous manner to all the world. After these triumphs, a series of splendid public entertainments were given, over twenty thousand tables having been spread for the populace of the city. Shows of every character and variety were exhibited. There were dramatic plays and equestrian performances in the circus, and gladiatorial combats, and battles with wild beasts, and dances and chariot races and every other amusement which could be devised to gratify a population highly cultivated in all the arts of life, but barbarous and cruel in heart and character. Some of the accounts which have come down to us of the magnificence of the scale on which these entertainments were conducted are absolutely incredible. It is said that an immense basin was constructed near the Tiber, large enough to contain two fleets of galleys, which had on board two thousand rowers each and one thousand fighting men. These fleets were then manned with captives,—the one with Asiatics, and the other with Egyptians,—and when all was ready, they were compelled to fight a real battle for the amusement of the spectators who thronged the shores, until vast numbers were killed, and the waters of the lake were dyed with blood. It is also said that the entire Forum and some of the great streets in the neighborhood, where the principal gladiatorial shows were held, were covered with silken awnings to protect the vast crowds of spectators from the sun, and thousands of tents were erected to accommodate the people from the surrounding country, whom the buildings of the city could not contain.”

All open opposition to CÆsar’s power was now put down. The Senate vied with the people to do him honor. He was first made consul for ten years, and then perpetual dictator. They conferred upon him the title of “The Father of his Country.” CÆsar now began to form plans for immense improvements which should benefit his empire. He completed the regulation of the calendar. “The system of months in use in his day corresponded so imperfectly with the annual circuit of the sun, that the months were moving continually along the year in such a manner that the winter months came at length in the summer, and the summer months in the winter. This led to great practical inconveniences. For whenever, for example, anything was required by law to be done in certain months, intending to have them done in the summer, and the specified month came at length to be a winter month, the law would require the thing to be done in exactly the wrong season. CÆsar remedied all this by adopting a new system of months which should give three hundred and sixty-five days to the year for three years, and three hundred and sixty-six for the fourth; and so exact was the system which he thus introduced that it went on unchanged for sixteen centuries. The months were then found to be eleven days out of the way, and a new correction was introduced by Pope Gregory XIII., and it will now go on three thousand years before the error will amount to a single day. CÆsar employed a Greek astronomer to arrange the system he adopted, and for this improvement one of the months was called July, after Julius CÆsar. Its former name was Quintilis.”

CÆsar commenced the collection of vast libraries; formed plans for draining the Pontine Marshes, and for bringing great supplies of water into the city by an aqueduct; and he intended to cut a new passage for the Tiber from Rome to the sea. He also planned a road along the Apennines, and a canal through the Isthmus of Corinth, and intended to construct other vast works which should make Rome the wonder of the world.

But in the midst of all these grand projects he was suddenly stricken down. Although the Romans disliked the thought of being ruled by a king, they preserved certain statues of their kings in some of the public buildings, and the ambition of CÆsar led him very foolishly to place his own statue among them. He also had a seat prepared for himself in the Senate in the form of a throne. On one occasion, when the members of the Senate were to come to him in a temple to announce certain decrees they had passed to his honor, CÆsar received them sitting upon a magnificent chair, which seemed a throne, so gorgeous was it; and he did not even rise to welcome them, as was the usual custom, thus showing that he would receive them as a monarch, who never rises in the presence of inferiors. This incident, small as it may seem, aroused much indignation. His statue was also found adorned with a laurel crown, to which was fastened a white fillet, which was an emblem of royalty. On another occasion, at a public entertainment, an officer placed a diadem upon the head of CÆsar, who pretended to be disinclined to receive it, and taking it off, it was offered twice again, and refused, when CÆsar sent the diadem to a temple near by as an offering to Jupiter. Although he thus appeared to reject the honor, his manner indicated that he only desired to be more warmly pressed to receive it. There was now formed a strong conspiracy against CÆsar, headed by Cassius, who had for a long time been CÆsar’s enemy. Cassius at last succeeded in persuading Marcus Brutus to join him. The plan was then divulged to such men as the conspirators thought most necessary to the success of their plot. It was agreed that CÆsar must be slain. They at length decided that the Roman Senate was the proper place. As it had been rumored that CÆsar’s friends were about to attempt to crown him as a king on the Ides of March, that day was chosen by the conspirators as a fitting one on which Julius CÆsar should meet his doom. CÆsar received many warnings of his approaching fate, and the soothsayers reported many strange omens which betokened some portentous event. One of these soothsayers informed CÆsar that he had been warned, by certain signs at a public sacrifice, that some terrible danger threatened his life on the Ides of March; and he besought him to be cautious until that day should have passed. The Senate were to meet on the Ides of March in a new and magnificent edifice, which had been erected by Pompey. In this Senate Chamber was a statue of Pompey. The day before the Ides of March, some birds of prey from a neighboring grove came flying into this hall, pursuing a little wren which had a sprig of laurel in its beak. The birds tore the poor wren to pieces, and the laurel fell from its bill to the marble pavement below. As CÆsar had been crowned with laurel after his victories, and always wore a wreath of laurel on public occasions, this event was thought to portend some evil to him. The night before the Ides of March, both CÆsar and his wife Calpurnia awoke from terrible dreams. CÆsar dreamed that he ascended into the skies and was received by Jupiter, and Calpurnia, awakening with a wild shriek, declared that she had dreamed that the roof of the house had fallen in, and that her husband had been stabbed by an assassin. When morning came, Calpurnia endeavored to persuade CÆsar not to go to the Senate, and he had consented to comply with her wish, until one of the conspirators, who had been appointed to accompany CÆsar to the Senate, came to the house of Julius CÆsar, and by his declarations that the people were waiting to confer upon their dictator the title of king throughout all the Roman dominions excepting Italy alone, he at length persuaded CÆsar to go with him. On the way to the Senate, a Greek teacher, having learned something of the plot, wrote a statement of it, and as CÆsar passed him he gave it to him, saying, “Read this immediately; it concerns yourself, and is of the utmost importance.” CÆsar made the attempt to do so, but the crowd of people who pressed towards him and handed him various petitions, as was the usual custom when a state officer appeared in public, prevented CÆsar from thus learning of the dreadful fate awaiting him. There was one warm friend of CÆsar, named Marc Antony, whom the conspirators feared might interfere with the successful completion of their plot, and so it was arranged that one of their number should engage the attention of Antony, while the petitioner chosen should advance and make his appeal to CÆsar, which should be the signal for the bloody deed. This conspirator made a pretence of asking CÆsar for the pardon of his brother, which request, as they had expected, CÆsar declined to grant. This occasioned an outburst of pretended fury, under cover of which the conspirators rushed upon CÆsar and stabbed him with their swords. CÆsar at first attempted to defend himself, but as Brutus, his former friend, also plunged his dagger into his side, he exclaimed, “And you, too, Brutus?” and drawing his mantle over his face, he fell at the feet of Pompey’s statue and expired. Now again the city of Rome was in wild tumult.

The conspirators marched boldly through the streets with their bloody swords. They boasted of their shocking deed, and announced that they had delivered their country from a tyrant. The people, stunned by the daring of this terrible act, knew not what to think or do. Some barricaded their houses in fear; others hurried through the streets with blanched faces; and still others excitedly seized any kind of weapon near at hand, and joined a mob, which threatened to break out in awful violence, to avenge the death of CÆsar, their idol.

During all this time the body of CÆsar lay unheeded at the foot of Pompey’s statue, pierced with twenty-three wounds, made by the hands of men he thought were his friends. Three slaves were his only guardians; and at last they lifted the poor bruised, bleeding, and ghastly corpse, and carried it home to the distracted Calpurnia. The next day, Brutus and the other conspirators called the people together in the Forum, and there addressed them, endeavoring to persuade them that the deed had been committed only in the interests of the people, to rid them of a tyrant. But the subsequent famous funeral speech of Marc Antony, roused the people to such a wild frenzy of revenge, that the conspirators were only saved from death with great difficulty by the intervention of the Senate.

The Field of Mars had been chosen as the place for the funeral pile; but after the speech of Marc Antony in the Forum, where the body of CÆsar had been placed on a gilded bed covered with scarlet and cloth of gold, under a gorgeous canopy made in the form of a temple, the people in their wild outbursts of love for CÆsar, as they had then learned from his will, which Antony read aloud to them, of his munificent bequests to the Roman citizens, became ungovernable in their desires to do him reverence. As a crier, by Antony’s order, read the decrees of the Senate, in which all honors, human and divine, had been been ascribed to CÆsar, the gilded bed upon which he lay was lifted and borne out into the centre of the Forum; and two men, having forced their way through the crowd, with lighted torches set fire to the bed on which the body of CÆsar lay, and the multitudes with shouts of enthusiastic applause, seized everything within reach and placed them upon the funeral pile. The soldiers then threw on their lances and spears; musicians cast their instruments into the increasing flames; women tore off their jewels to add to the gorgeous pile, and all vied with each other to contribute something to enlarge the blazing funeral pile. So fierce were the flames that they spread to some of the neighboring buildings, and a terrible conflagration which would have given CÆsar the most majestic funeral pile in the annals of the world, for it would have been the blazing light from the burning city of Rome itself, was only prevented by the most strenuous efforts.

Some time after, Octavius CÆsar, the successor of Julius CÆsar, and Marc Antony, waged war with Cassius and Brutus; and at the battle of Philippi, where Cassius and Brutus were defeated, and while they were fleeing from the field, hopeless of further defence, they both killed themselves with their own swords.

CÆsar died at the age of fifty-six. The Roman people erected a column to his memory, on which they placed the inscription, “To the Father of His Country.” A figure of a star was placed upon the summit of this memorial shaft, and some time afterwards, while the people were celebrating some games in honor of CÆsar’s memory, a great comet blazed for seven nights in the sky, which they declared to be a sign that the soul of CÆsar was admitted among the gods.