still, thought it expedient to attack them whilst they were
under these apprehensions, rather than sit still and wait their
time.  Accordingly he made his approaches to the strong-holds
and hills on which they lay encamped, and so galled and fretted
them, that at last they came down with great fury to engage.
But he gained a signal victory, and pursued them for four
hundred furlongs, as far as the Rhine; all which space was
covered with spoils and bodies of the slain.  Ariovistus made
shift to pass the Rhine with the small remains of an army, for
it is said the number of the slain amounted to eighty thousand.

After this action, Caesar left his army at their winter-quarters
in the country of the Sequani, and in order to attend to affairs
at Rome, went into that part of Gaul which lies on the Po, and
was part of his province; for the river Rubicon divides Gaul,
which is on this side the Alps, from the rest of Italy.  There
he sat down and employed himself in courting people's favor;
great numbers coming to him continually, and always finding
their requests answered; for he never failed to dismiss all with
present pledges of his kindness in hand, and further hopes for
the future.  And during all this time of the war in Gaul, Pompey
never observed how Caesar was on the one hand using the arms of
Rome to effect his conquests, and on the other was gaining over
and securing to himself the favor of the Romans, with the wealth
which those conquests obtained him.  But when he heard that the
Belgae, who were the most powerful of all the Gauls, and
inhabited a third part of the country, were revolted, and had
got together a great many thousand men in arms, he immediately
set out and took his way thither with great expedition, and
falling upon the enemy as they were ravaging the Gauls, his
allies, he soon defeated and put to flight the largest and least
scattered division of them.  For though their numbers were
great, yet they made but a slender defense, and the marshes and
deep rivers were made passable to the Roman foot by the vast
quantity of dead bodies.  Of those who revolted, all the tribes
that lived near the ocean came over without fighting, and he,
therefore, led his army against the Nervii, the fiercest and
most warlike people of all in those parts.  These live in a
country covered with continuous woods, and having lodged their
children and property out of the way in the depth of the forest,
fell upon Caesar with a body of sixty thousand men, before he
was prepared for them, while he was making his encampment.  They
soon routed his cavalry, and having surrounded the twelfth and
seventh legions, killed all the officers, and had not Caesar
himself snatched up a buckler, and forced his way through his
own men to come up to the barbarians, or had not the tenth
legion, when they saw him in danger, run in from the tops of the
hills, where they lay, and broken through the enemy's ranks to
rescue him, in all probability not a Roman would have been
saved.  But now, under the influence of Caesar's bold example,
they fought a battle, as the phrase is, of more than human
courage, and yet with their utmost efforts they were not able to
drive the enemy out of the field, but cut them down fighting in
their defense.  For out of sixty thousand men, it is stated that
not above five hundred survived the battle, and of four hundred
of their senators not above three.

When the Roman senate had received news of this, they voted
sacrifices and festivals to the gods, to be strictly observed
for the space of fifteen days, a longer space than ever was
observed for any victory before.  The danger to which they had
been exposed by the joint outbreak of such a number of nations
was felt to have been great; and the people's fondness for
Caesar gave additional luster to successes achieved by him.  He
now, after settling everything in Gaul, came back again, and
spent the winter by the Po, in order to carry on the designs he
had in hand at Rome.  All who were candidates for offices used
his assistance, and were supplied with money from him to corrupt
the people and buy their votes, in return of which, when they
were chosen, they did all things to advance his power.  But what
was more considerable, the most eminent and powerful men in Rome
in great numbers came to visit him at Lucca, Pompey, and
Crassus, and Appius, the governor of Sardinia, and Nepos, the
proconsul of Spain, so that there were in the place at one time
one hundred and twenty lictors, and more than two hundred
senators.  In deliberation here held, it was determined that
Pompey and Crassus should be consuls again for the following
year; that Caesar should have a fresh supply of money, and that
his command should be renewed to him for five years more.  It
seemed very extravagant to all thinking men, that those very
persons who had received so much money from Caesar should
persuade the senate to grant him more, as if he were in want.
Though in truth it was not so much upon persuasion as
compulsion, that, with sorrow and groans for their own acts,
they passed the measure.  Cato was not present, for they had
sent him seasonably out of the way into Cyprus; but Favonius,
who was a zealous imitator of Cato, when he found he could do no
good by opposing it, broke out of the house, and loudly
declaimed against these proceedings to the people, but none gave
him any hearing; some slighting him out of respect to Crassus
and Pompey, and the greater part to gratify Caesar, on whom
depended their hopes.

After this, Caesar returned again to his forces in Gaul, where
he found that country involved in a dangerous war, two strong
nations of the Germans having lately passed the Rhine, to
conquer it; one of them called the Usipes, the other the
Tenteritae. Of the war with this people, Caesar himself has
given this account in his commentaries, that the barbarians,
having sent ambassadors to treat with him, did, during the
treaty, set upon him in his march, by which means with eight
hundred men they routed five thousand of his horse, who did not
suspect their coming; that afterwards they sent other
ambassadors to renew the same fraudulent practices, whom he kept
in custody, and led on his army against the barbarians, as
judging it mere simplicity to keep faith with those who had so
faithlessly broken the terms they had agreed to.  But Tanusius
states, that when the senate decreed festivals and sacrifices
for this victory, Cato declared it to be his opinion that Caesar
ought to be given into the hands of the barbarians, that so the
guilt which this breach of faith might otherwise bring upon the
state, might be expiated by transferring the curse on him, who
was the occasion of it.  Of those who passed the Rhine, there were
four hundred thousand cut off; those few who escaped were
sheltered by the Sugambri, a people of Germany.  Caesar took
hold of this pretense to invade the Germans, being at the same
time ambitious of the honor of being the first man that should
pass the Rhine with an army.  He carried a bridge across it,
though it was very wide, and the current at that particular
point very full, strong, and violent, bringing down with its
waters trunks of trees, and other lumber, which much shook and
weakened the foundations of his bridge.  But he drove great
piles of wood into the bottom of the river above the passage,
to catch and stop these as they floated down, and thus fixing
his bridle upon the stream, successfully finished this bridge,
which no one who saw could believe to be the work but of ten
days.

In the passage of his army over it, he met with no opposition;
the Suevi themselves, who are the most warlike people of all
Germany, flying with their effects into the deepest and most
densely wooded valleys.  When he had burnt all the enemy's
country, and encouraged those who embraced the Roman interest,
he went back into Gaul, after eighteen days' stay in Germany.
But his expedition into Britain was the most famous testimony of
his courage.  For he was the first who brought a navy into the
western ocean, or who sailed into the Atlantic with an army to
make war; and by invading an island, the reported extent of
which had made its existence a matter of controversy among
historians, many of whom questioned whether it were not a mere
name and fiction, not a real place, he might be said to have
carried the Roman empire beyond the limits of the known world.
He passed thither twice from that part of Gaul which lies over
against it, and in several battles which he fought, did more
hurt to the enemy than service to himself, for the islanders
were so miserably poor, that they had nothing worth being
plundered of.  When he found himself unable to put such an end
to the war as he wished, he was content to take hostages from
the king, and to impose a tribute, and then quitted the island.
At his arrival in Gaul, he found letters which lay ready to be
conveyed over the water to him from his friends at Rome,
announcing his daughter's death, who died in labor of a child by
Pompey.  Caesar and Pompey both were much afflicted with her
death, nor were their friends less disturbed, believing that the
alliance was now broken, which had hitherto kept the sickly
commonwealth in peace, for the child also died within a few days
after the mother.  The people took the body of Julia, in spite
of the opposition of the tribunes, and carried it into the field
of Mars, and there her funeral rites were performed, and her
remains are laid.

Caesar's army was now grown very numerous, so that he was forced
to disperse them into various camps for their winter-quarters,
and he having gone himself to Italy as he used to do, in his
absence a general outbreak throughout the whole of Gaul
commenced, and large armies marched about the country, and
attacked the Roman quarters, and attempted to make themselves
masters of the forts where they lay.  The greatest and strongest
party of the rebels, under the command of Abriorix, cut off
Costa and Titurius with all their men, while a force sixty
thousand strong besieged the legion under the command of
Cicero, and had almost taken it by storm, the Roman soldiers
being all wounded, and having quite spent themselves by a
defense beyond their natural strength.  But Caesar, who was at a
great distance, having received the news, quickly got together
seven thousand men, and hastened to relieve Cicero.  The
besiegers were aware of it, and went to meet him, with great
confidence that they should easily overpower such an handful of
men.  Caesar, to increase their presumption, seemed to avoid
fighting, and still marched off, till he found a place
conveniently situated for a few to engage against many, where he
encamped.  He kept his soldiers from making any attack upon the
enemy, and commanded them to raise the ramparts higher, and
barricade the gates, that by show of fear, they might heighten
the enemy's contempt of them.  Till at last they came without
any order in great security to make an assault, when he issued
forth, and put them to flight with the loss of many men.

This quieted the greater part of the commotions in these parts
of Gaul, and Caesar, in the course of the winter, visited every
part of the country, and with great vigilance took precautions
against all innovations.  For there were three legions now come
to him to supply the place of the men he had lost, of which
Pompey furnished him with two, out of those under his command;
the other was newly raised in the part of Gaul by the Po.  But
in a while the seeds of war, which had long since been secretly
sown and scattered by the most powerful men in those warlike
nations, broke forth into the greatest and most dangerous war
that ever was in those parts, both as regards the number of men
in the vigor of their youth who were gathered and armed from all
quarters, the vast funds of money collected to maintain it, the
strength of the towns, and the difficulty of the country where
it was carried on.  It being winter, the rivers were frozen, the
woods covered with snow, and the level country flooded, so that
in some places the ways were lost through the depth of the snow;
in others, the overflowing of marshes and streams made every
kind of passage uncertain.  All which difficulties made it seem
impracticable for Caesar to make any attempt upon the
insurgents.  Many tribes had revolted together, the chief of
them being the Arverni and Carnutini ; the general who had the
supreme command in war was Vergentorix, whose father the Gauls
had put to death on suspicion of his aiming at absolute
government.

He having disposed his army in several bodies, and set officers
over them, drew over to him all the country round about as far
as those that lie upon the Arar, and having intelligence of the
opposition which Caesar now experienced at Rome, thought to
engage all Gaul in the war.  Which if he had done a little
later, when Caesar was taken up with the civil wars, Italy had
been put into as great a terror as before it was by the Cimbri.
But Caesar, who above all men was gifted with the faculty of
making the right use of everything in war, and most especially
of seizing the right moment, as soon as he heard of the revolt,
returned immediately the same way he went, and showed the
barbarians, by the quickness of his march in such a severe
season, that an army was advancing against them which was
invincible.  For in the time that one would have thought it
scarce credible that a courier or express should have come with
a message from him, he himself appeared with all his army,
ravaging the country, reducing their posts, subduing their
towns, receiving into his protection those who declared for him.
Till at last the Edui, who hitherto had styled themselves
brethren to the Romans, and had been much honored by them,
declared against him, and joined the rebels, to the great
discouragement of his army.  Accordingly he removed thence, and
passed the country of the Lingones, desiring to reach the
territories of the Sequani, who were his friends, and who lay
like a bulwark in front of Italy against the other tribes of
Gaul.  There the enemy came upon him, and surrounded him with
many myriads, whom he also was eager to engage; and at last,
after some time and with much slaughter, gained on the whole a
complete victory; though at first he appears to have met with
some reverse, and the Aruveni show you a small sword hanging up
in a temple, which they say was taken from Caesar.  Caesar saw
this afterwards himself, and smiled, and when his friends
advised it should be taken down, would not permit it, because he
looked upon it as consecrated.

After the defeat a great part of those who had escaped, fled
with their king into a town called Alesia, which Caesar
besieged, though the height of the walls, and number of those
who defended them, made it appear impregnable; and meantime,
from without the walls, he was assailed by a greater danger than
can be expressed.  For the choice men of Gaul, picked out of
each nation, and well armed, came to relieve Alesia, to the
number of three hundred thousand; nor were there in the town
less than one hundred and seventy thousand.  So that Caesar
being shut up betwixt two such forces, was compelled to protect
himself by two walls, one towards the town, the other against
the relieving army, as knowing it these forces should join, his
affairs would be entirely ruined.  The danger that he underwent
before Alesia, justly gained him great honor on many accounts,
and gave him an opportunity of showing greater instances of his
valor and conduct than any other contest had done.  One wonders
much how he should be able to engage and defeat so many
thousands of men without the town, and not be perceived by those
within, but yet more, that the Romans themselves, who guarded
their wall which was next the town, should be strangers to it.
For even they knew nothing of the victory, till they heard the
cries of the men and lamentations of the women who were in the
town, and had from thence seen the Romans at a distance carrying
into their camp a great quantity of bucklers, adorned with gold
and silver, many breastplates stained with blood, besides cups
and tents made in the Gallic fashion.  So soon did so vast an
army dissolve and vanish like a ghost or dream, the greatest
part of them being killed upon the spot.  Those who were in
Alesia, having given themselves and Caesar much trouble,
surrendered at last; and Vergentorix, who was the chief spring
of all the war, putting his best armor on, and adorning his
horse, rode out of the gates, and made a turn about Caesar as he
was sitting, then quitted his horse, threw off his armor, and
remained seated quietly at Caesar's feet until he was led away
to be reserved for the triumph.

Caesar had long ago resolved upon the overthrow of Pompey, as
had Pompey, for that matter, upon his.  For Crassus, the fear of
whom had hitherto kept them in peace, having now been killed in
Parthia, if the one of them wished to make himself the greatest
man in Rome, he had only to overthrow the other; and if he again
wished to prevent his own fall, he had nothing for it but to be
beforehand with him whom he feared.  Pompey had not been long
under any such apprehensions, having till lately despised
Caesar, as thinking it no difficult matter to put down him whom
he himself had advanced.  But Caesar had entertained this design
from the beginning against his rivals, and had retired, like an
expert wrestler, to prepare himself apart for the combat.
Making the Gallic wars his exercise-ground, he had at once
improved the strength of his soldiery, and had heightened his
own glory by his great actions, so that he was looked on as one
who might challenge comparison with Pompey.  Nor did he let go
any of those advantages which were now given him both by Pompey
himself and the times, and the ill government of Rome, where all
who were candidates for offices publicly gave money, and without
any shame bribed the people, who having received their pay, did
not contend for their benefactors with their bare suffrages, but
with bows, swords, and slings.  So that after having many times
stained the place of election with the blood of men killed upon
the spot, they left the city at last without a government at
all, to be carried about like a ship without a pilot to steer
her; while all who had any wisdom could only be thankful if a
course of such wild and stormy disorder and madness might end no
worse than in a monarchy.  Some were so bold as to declare
openly, that the government was incurable but by a monarchy, and
that they ought to take that remedy from the hands of the
gentlest physician, meaning Pompey, who, though in words he
pretended to decline it, yet in reality made his utmost efforts
to be declared dictator.  Cato perceiving his design, prevailed
with the senate to make him sole consul, that with the offer of
a more legal sort of monarchy he might be withheld from
demanding the dictatorship.  They over and above voted him the
continuance of his provinces, for he had two, Spain and all
Africa, which he governed by his lieutenants, and maintained
armies under him, at the yearly charge of a thousand talents out
of the public treasury.

Upon this Caesar also sent and petitioned for the consulship,
and the continuance of his provinces.  Pompey at first did not
stir in it, but Marcellus and Lentulus opposed it, who had
always hated Caesar, and now did every thing, whether fit or
unfit, which might disgrace and affront him.  For they took away
the privilege of Roman citizens from the people of New Comum,
who were a colony that Caesar had lately planted in Gaul; and
Marcellus, who was then consul, ordered one of the senators of
that town, then at Rome, to be whipped, and told him he laid
that mark upon him to signify he was no citizen of Rome, bidding
him, when he went back again, to show it to Caesar.  After
Marcellus's consulship, Caesar began to lavish gifts upon all
the public men out of the riches he had taken from the Gauls;
discharged Curio, the tribune, from his great debts; gave
Paulus, then consul, fifteen hundred talents, with which he
built the noble court of justice adjoining the forum, to supply
the place of that called the Fulvian.  Pompey, alarmed at these
preparations, now openly took steps, both by himself and his
friends, to have a successor appointed in Caesar's room, and
sent to demand back the soldiers whom he had lent him to carry
on the wars in Gaul.  Caesar returned them, and made each
soldier a present of two hundred and fifty drachmas.  The
officer who brought them home to Pompey, spread amongst the
people no very fair or favorable report of Caesar, and flattered
Pompey himself with false suggestions that he was wished for by
Caesar's army; and though his affairs here were in some
embarrassment through the envy of some, and the ill state of the
government, yet there the army was at his command, and if they
once crossed into Italy, would presently declare for him; so
weary were they of Caesar's endless expeditions, and so
suspicious of his designs for a monarchy.  Upon this Pompey grew
presumptuous, and neglected all warlike preparations, as
fearing no danger, and used no other means against him than mere
speeches and votes, for which Caesar cared nothing.  And one of
his captains, it is said, who was sent by him to Rome, standing
before the senate-house one day, and being told that the senate
would not give Caesar a longer time in his government, clapped
his hand on the hilt of his sword, and said, "But this shall."

Yet the demands which Caesar made had the fairest colors of
equity imaginable.  For he proposed to lay down his arms, and
that Pompey should do the same, and both together should become
private men, and each expect a reward of his services from the
public.  For that those who proposed to disarm him, and at the
same time to confirm Pompey in all the power he held, were
simply establishing the one in the tyranny which they accused
the other of aiming at.  When Curio made these proposals to the
people in Caesar's name, he was loudly applauded, and some threw
garlands towards him, and dismissed him as they do successful
wrestlers, crowned with flowers.  Antony, being tribune,
produced a letter sent from Caesar on this occasion, and read
it, though the consuls did what they could to oppose it.  But
Scipio, Pompey's father-in-law, proposed in the senate, that if
Caesar did not lay down his arms within such a time, he should
be voted an enemy; and the consuls putting it to the question,
whether Pompey should dismiss his soldiers, and again, whether
Caesar should disband his, very few assented to the first, but
almost all to the latter.  But Antony proposing again, that both
should lay down their commissions, all but a very few agreed to
it.  Scipio was upon this very violent, and Lentulus the consul
cried aloud, that they had need of arms, and not of suffrages,
against a robber; so that the senators for the present
adjourned, and appeared in mourning as a mark of their grief for
the dissension.

Afterwards there came other letters from Caesar, which seemed
yet more moderate, for he proposed to quit everything else, and
only to retain Gaul within the Alps, Illyricum, and two
legions, till he should stand a second time for consul.  Cicero,
the orator, who was lately returned from Cilicia, endeavored to
reconcile differences, and softened Pompey, who was willing to
comply in other things, but not to allow him the soldiers.  At
last Cicero used his persuasions with Caesar's friends to accept
of the provinces, and six thousand soldiers only, and so to make
up the quarrel.  And Pompey was inclined to give way to this,
but Lentulus, the consul, would not hearken to it, but drove
Antony and Curio out of the senate-house with insults, by which
he afforded Caesar the most plausible pretense that could be,
and one which he could readily use to inflame the soldiers, by
showing them two persons of such repute and authority, who were
forced to escape in a hired carriage in the dress of slaves.
For so they were glad to disguise themselves, when they fled out
of Rome.

There were not about him at that time above three hundred horse,
and five thousand foot; for the rest of his army, which was left
behind the Alps, was to be brought after him by officers who had
received orders for that purpose.  But he thought the first
motion towards the design which he had on foot did not require
large forces at present, and that what was wanted was to make
this first step suddenly, and so as to astound his enemies with
the boldness of it; as it would be easier, he thought, to throw
them into consternation by doing what they never anticipated,
than fairly to conquer them, if he had alarmed them by his
preparations.  And therefore, he commanded his captains and
other officers to go only with their swords in their hands,
without any other arms, and make themselves masters of Ariminum,
a large city of Gaul, with as little disturbance and bloodshed
as possible.  He committed the care of these forces to
Hortensius, and himself spent the day in public as a stander-by
and spectator of the gladiators, who exercised before him.  A
little before night he attended to his person, and then went
into the hall, and conversed for some time with those he had
invited to supper, till it began to grow dusk, when he rose from
table, and made his excuses to the company, begging them to stay
till he came back, having already given private directions to a
few immediate friends, that they should follow him, not all the
same way, but some one way, some another.  He himself got into
one of the hired carriages, and drove at first another way, but
presently turned towards Ariminum.  When he came to the river
Rubicon, which parts Gaul within the Alps from the rest of
Italy, his thoughts began to work, now he was just entering upon
the danger, and he wavered much in his mind, when he considered
the greatness of the enterprise into which he was throwing
himself.  He checked his course, and ordered a halt, while he
revolved with himself, and often changed his opinion one way and
the other, without speaking a word.  This was when his purposes
fluctuated most; presently he also discussed the matter with his
friends who were about him, (of which number Asinius Pollio was
one,) computing how many calamities his passing that river would
bring upon mankind, and what a relation of it would be
transmitted to posterity.  At last, in a sort of passion,
casting aside calculation, and abandoning himself to what might
come, and using the proverb frequently in their mouths who enter
upon dangerous and bold attempts, "The die is cast," with these
words he took the river.  Once over, he used all expedition
possible, and before it was day reached Ariminum, and took it.
It is said that the night before he passed the river, he had an
impious dream, that he was unnaturally familiar with his own
mother.

As soon as Ariminum was taken, wide gates, so to say, were
thrown open, to let in war upon every land alike and sea, and
with the limits of the province, the boundaries of the laws were
transgressed.  Nor would one have thought that, as at other
times, the mere men and women fled from one town of Italy to
another in their consternation, but that the very towns
themselves left their sites, and fled for succor to each other.
The city of Rome was overrun as it were with a deluge, by the
conflux of people flying in from all the neighboring places.
Magistrates could no longer govern, nor the eloquence of any
orator quiet it; it was all but suffering shipwreck by the
violence of its own tempestuous agitation.  The most vehement
contrary passions and impulses were at work everywhere.  Nor
did those who rejoiced at the prospect of the change altogether
conceal their feelings, but when they met, as in so great a city
they frequently must, with the alarmed and dejected of the other
party, they provoked quarrels by their bold expressions of
confidence in the event.  Pompey, sufficiently disturbed of
himself; was yet more perplexed by the clamors of others; some
telling him that he justly suffered for having armed Caesar
against himself and the government; others blaming him for
permitting Caesar to be insolently used by Lentulus, when he
made such ample concessions, and offered such reasonable
proposals towards an accommodation.  Favonius bade him now stamp
upon the ground; for once talking big in the senate, he desired
them not to trouble themselves about making any preparations for
the war, for that he himself, with one stamp of his foot, would
fill all Italy with soldiers.  Yet still Pompey at that time had
more forces than Caesar; but he was not permitted to pursue his
own thoughts, but being continually disturbed with false reports
and alarms, as if the enemy was close upon him and carrying all
before him, he gave way, and let himself be borne down by the
general cry.  He put forth an edict declaring the city to be in
a state of anarchy, and left it with orders that the senate
should follow him, and that no one should stay behind who did
not prefer tyranny to their country and liberty.

The consuls at once fled, without making even the usual
sacrifices; so did most of the senators, carrying off their own
goods in as much haste as if they had been robbing their
neighbors.  Some, who had formerly much favored Caesar's cause,
in the prevailing alarm, quitted their own sentiments, and
without any prospect of good to themselves, were carried along
by the common stream.  It was a melancholy thing to see the city
tossed in these tumults, like a ship given up by her pilots, and
left to run, as chance guides her, upon any rock in her way.
Yet, in spite of their sad condition, people still esteemed the
place of their exile to be their country for Pompey's sake, and
fled from Rome, as if it had been Caesar's camp.  Labienus even,
who had been one of Caesar's nearest friends, and his
lieutenant, and who had fought by him zealously in the Gallic
wars, now deserted him, and went over to Pompey.  Caesar sent
all his money and equipage after him, and then sat down before
Corfinium, which was garrisoned with thirty cohorts under the
command of Domitius.  He, in despair of maintaining the defense,
requested a physician, whom he had among his attendants, to give
him poison; and taking the dose, drank it, in hopes of being
dispatched by it.  But soon after, when he was told that Caesar
showed the utmost clemency towards those he took prisoners, he
lamented his misfortune, and blamed the hastiness of his
resolution.  His physician consoled him, by informing him that
he had taken a sleeping draught, not a poison; upon which, much
rejoiced, and rising from his bed, he went presently to Caesar,
and gave him the pledge of his hand, yet afterwards again
went over to Pompey.  The report of these actions at Rome,
quieted those who were there, and some who had fled thence
returned.

Caesar took into his army Domitius's soldiers, as he did all
those whom he found in any town enlisted for Pompey's service.
Being now strong and formidable enough, he advanced against
Pompey himself, who did not stay to receive him, but fled to
Brundisium, having sent the consuls before with a body of troops
to Dyrrhachium.  Soon after, upon Caesar's approach, he set to
sea, as shall be more particularly related in his Life.  Caesar
would have immediately pursued him, but wanted shipping, and
therefore went back to Rome, having made himself master of all
Italy without bloodshed in the space of sixty days.  When he
came thither, he found the city more quiet than he expected, and
many senators present, to whom he addressed himself with
courtesy and deference, desiring them to send to Pompey about
any reasonable accommodations towards a peace.  But nobody
complied with this proposal; whether out of fear of Pompey, whom
they had deserted, or that they thought Caesar did not mean what
he said, but thought it his interest to talk plausibly.
Afterwards, when Metellus, the tribune, would have hindered him
from taking money out of the public treasure, and adduced some
laws against it, Caesar replied, that arms and laws had each
their own time; "If what I do displeases you, leave the place;
war allows no free talking.  When I have laid down my arms, and
made peace, come back and make what speeches you please.  And
this," he added, "I tell you in diminution of my own just right,
as indeed you and all others who have appeared against me and
are now in my power, may be treated as I please."  Having said
this to Metellus, he went to the doors of the treasury, and the
keys being not to be found, sent for smiths to force them open.
Metellus again making resistance, and some encouraging him in
it, Caesar, in a louder tone, told him he would put him to
death, if he gave him any further disturbance.  "And this," said
he, "you know, young man, is more disagreeable for me to say,
than to do."  These words made Metellus withdraw for fear, and
obtained speedy execution henceforth for all orders that Caesar
gave for procuring necessaries for the war.

He was now proceeding to Spain, with the determination of first
crushing Afranius and Varro, Pompey's lieutenants, and making
himself master of the armies and provinces under them, that he
might then more securely advance against Pompey, when he had no
enemy left behind him.  In this expedition his person was often
in danger from ambuscades, and his army by want of provisions,
yet he did not desist from pursuing the enemy, provoking them to
fight, and hemming them with his fortifications, till by main
force he made himself master of their camps and their forces.
Only the generals got off, and fled to Pompey.

When Caesar came back to Rome, Piso, his father-in-law, advised
him to send men to Pompey, to treat of a peace; but Isauricus,
to ingratiate himself with Caesar, spoke against it.  After
this, being created dictator by the senate, he called home the
exiles, and gave back then rights as citizens to the children of
those who had suffered under Sylla; he relieved the debtors by
an act remitting some part of the interest on their debts, and
passed some other measures of the same sort, but not many.  For
within eleven days he resigned his dictatorship, and having
declared himself consul, with Servilius Isauricus, hastened
again to the war.  He marched so fast, that he left all his army
behind him, except six hundred chosen horse, and five legions,
with which he put to sea in the very middle of winter, about
the beginning of the month January, (which corresponds pretty
nearly with the Athenian month Posideon,) and having past the
Ionian Sea, took Oricum and Apollonia, and then sent back the
ships to Brundisium, to bring over the soldiers who were left
behind in the march.  They, while yet on the march, their bodies
now no longer in the full vigor of youth, and they themselves
weary with such a multitude of wars, could not but exclaim
against Caesar, "When at last, and where, will this Caesar let
us be quiet?  He carries us from place to place, and uses us as
if we were not to be worn out, and had no sense of labor.  Even
our iron itself is spent by blows, and we ought to have some
pity on our bucklers and breastplates, which have been used so
long.  Our wounds, if nothing else, should make him see that we
are mortal men, whom he commands, subject to the same pains and
sufferings as other human beings.  The very gods themselves
cannot force the winter season, or hinder the storms in their
time; yet he pushes forward, as if he were not pursuing, but
flying from an enemy."  So they talked as they marched leisurely
towards Brundisium.  But when they came thither, and found
Caesar gone off before them, their feelings changed, and they
blamed themselves as traitors to their general.  They now railed
at their officers for marching so slowly, and placing themselves
on the heights overlooking the sea towards Epirus, they kept
watch to see if they could espy the vessels which were to
transport them to Caesar.

He in the meantime was posted in Apollonia, but had not an army
with him able to fight the enemy, the forces from Brundisium
being so long in coming, which put him to great suspense and
embarrassment what to do.  At last he resolved upon a most
hazardous experiment, and embarked, without anyone's knowledge,
in a boat of twelve oars, to cross over to Brundisium, though
the sea was at that time covered with a vast fleet of the
enemies.  He got on board in the night time, in the dress of a
slave, and throwing himself down like a person of no
consequence, lay along at the bottom of the vessel.  The river
Anius was to carry them down to sea, and there used to blow a
gentle gale every morning from the land, which made it calm at
the mouth of the river, by driving the waves forward; but this
night there had blown a strong wind from the sea, which
overpowered that from the land, so that where the river met the
influx of the sea-water and the opposition of the waves, it was
extremely rough and angry; and the current was beaten back with
such a violent swell, that the master of the boat could not make
good his passage, but ordered his sailors to tack about and
return.  Caesar, upon this, discovers himself, and taking the
man by the hand, who was surprised to see him there, said, "Go
on, my friend, and fear nothing; you carry Caesar and his
fortune in your boat."  The mariners, when they heard that,
forgot the storm, and laying all their strength to their oars,
did what they could to force their way down the river.  But when
it was to no purpose, and the vessel now took in much water,
Caesar finding himself in such danger in the very mouth of the
river, much against his will permitted the master to turn back.
When he was come to land, his soldiers ran to him in a
multitude, reproaching him for what he had done, and indignant
that he should think himself not strong enough to get a victory
by their sole assistance, but must disturb himself, and expose
his life for those who were absent, as if he could not trust
those who were with him.

After this, Antony came over with the forces from Brundisium,
which encouraged Caesar to give Pompey battle, though he was
encamped very advantageously, and furnished with plenty of
provisions both by sea and land, whilst he himself was at the
beginning but ill-supplied, and before the end was extremely
pinched for want of necessaries, so that his soldiers were
forced to dig up a kind of root which grew there, and tempering
it with milk, to feed on it.  Sometimes they made a kind of
bread of it, and advancing up to the enemy's outposts, would
throw in these loaves, telling them, that as long as the earth
produced such roots they would not give up blockading Pompey.
But Pompey took what care he could, that neither the loaves nor
the words should reach his men, who were out of heart and
despondent, through terror at the fierceness and hardiness of
their enemies, whom they looked upon as a sort of wild beasts.
There were continual skirmishes about Pompey's outworks, in all
which Caesar had the better, except one, when his men were
forced to fly in such a manner that he had like to have lost his
camp.  For Pompey made such a vigorous sally on them that not a
man stood his ground; the trenches were filled with the
slaughter, many fell upon their own ramparts and bulwarks,
whither they were driven in flight by the enemy.  Caesar met
them, and would have turned them back, but could not.  When he
went to lay hold of the ensigns, those who carried them threw
them down, so that the enemies took thirty-two of them.  He
himself narrowly escaped; for taking hold of one of his
soldiers, a big and strong man, that was flying by him, he bade
him stand and face about; but the fellow, full of apprehensions
from the danger he was in, laid hold of his sword, as if he
would strike Caesar, but Caesar's armor-bearer cut off his arm.
Caesar's affairs were so desperate at that time, that when
Pompey, either through over-cautiousness, or his ill fortune,
did not give the finishing stroke to that great success, but
retreated after he had driven the routed enemy within their
camp, Caesar, upon seeing his withdrawal, said to his friends,
"The victory to-day had been on the enemies' side, if they had
had a general who knew how to gain it."  When he was retired
into his tent, he laid himself down to sleep, but spent that
night as miserably as ever he did any, in perplexity and
consideration with himself, coming to the conclusion that he had
conducted the war amiss.  For when he had a fertile country
before him, and all the wealthy cities of Macedonia and
Thessaly, he had neglected to carry the war thither, and had sat
down by the seaside, where his enemies had such a powerful
fleet, so that he was in fact rather besieged by the want of
necessaries, than besieging others with his arms.  Being thus
distracted in his thoughts with the view of the difficulty and
distress he was in, he raised his camp, with the intention of
advancing towards Scipio, who lay in Macedonia; hoping either to
entice Pompey into a country where he should fight without the
advantage he now had of supplies from the sea, or to overpower
Scipio, if not assisted.

This set all Pompey's army and officers on fire to hasten and
pursue Caesar, whom they concluded to be beaten and flying.  But
Pompey was afraid to hazard a battle on which so much depended,
and being himself provided with all necessaries for any length
of time, thought to tire out and waste the vigor of Caesar's
army, which could not last long.  For the best part of his men,
though they had great experience and showed an irresistible
courage in all engagements, yet by their frequent marches,
changing their camps, attacking fortifications, and keeping
long night-watches, were getting worn-out and broken; they being
now old, their bodies less fit for labor, and their courage,
also, beginning to give way with the failure of their strength.
Besides, it was said that an infectious disease, occasioned by
their irregular diet, was prevailing in Caesar's army, and what
was of greatest moment, he was neither furnished with money nor
provisions, so that in a little time he must needs fall of
himself.

For these reasons Pompey had no mind to fight him, but was
thanked for it by none but Cato, who rejoiced at the prospect of
sparing his fellow-citizens.  For he when he saw the dead bodies
of those who had fallen in the last battle on Caesar's side, to
the number of a thousand, turned away, covered his face, and
shed tears.  But everyone else upbraided Pompey for being
reluctant to fight, and tried to goad him on by such nicknames
as Agamemnon, and king of kings, as if he were in no hurry to
lay down his sovereign authority, but was pleased to see so many
commanders attending on him, and paying their attendance at his
tent.  Favonius, who affected Cato's free way of speaking his
mind, complained bitterly that they should eat no figs even this
year at Tusculum, because of Pompey's love of command.
Afranius, who was lately returned out of Spain, and on account
of his ill success there, labored under the suspicion of having
been bribed to betray the army, asked why they did not fight
this purchaser of provinces.  Pompey was driven, against his own
will, by this kind of language, into offering battle, and
proceeded to follow Caesar.  Caesar had found great difficulties
in his march, for no country would supply him with provisions,
his reputation being very much fallen since his late defeat.
But after he took Gomphi, a town of Thessaly, he not only found
provisions for his army, but physic too.  For there they met
with plenty of wine, which they took very freely, and heated
with this, sporting and reveling on their march in bacchanalian
fashion, they shook off the disease, and their whole
constitution was relieved and changed into another habit.

When the two armies were come into Pharsalia, and both encamped
there, Pompey's thoughts ran the same way as they had done
before, against fighting, and the more because of some unlucky
presages, and a vision he had in a dream. But those who were
about him were so confident of success, that Domitius, and
Spinther, and Scipio, as if they had already conquered,
quarreled which should succeed Caesar in the pontificate.  And
many sent to Rome to take houses fit to accommodate consuls and
praetors, as being sure of entering upon those offices, as soon
as the battle was over.  The cavalry especially were obstinate
for fighting, being splendidly armed and bravely mounted, and
valuing themselves upon the fine horses they kept, and upon
their own handsome persons; as also upon the advantage of their
numbers, for they were five thousand against one thousand of
Caesar's.  Nor were the numbers of the infantry less
disproportionate, there being forty-five thousand of Pompey's,
against twenty-two thousand of the enemy.

Caesar, collecting his soldiers together, told them that
Corfinius  was coming up to them with two legions, and that
fifteen cohorts more under Calenus were posted at Megara and
Athens; he then asked them whether they would stay till these
joined them, or would hazard the battle by themselves.  They all
cried out to him not to wait, but on the contrary to do whatever
he could to bring about an engagement as soon as possible.  When
he sacrificed to the gods for the lustration of his army, upon
the death of the first victim, the augur told him, within three
days he should come to a decisive action.  Caesar asked him
whether he saw anything in the entrails, which promised a
happy event.  "That," said the priest, "you can best answer
yourself; for the gods signify a great alteration from the
present posture of affairs.  If, therefore, you think yourself
well off now, expect worse fortune; if unhappy, hope for
better."  The night before the battle, as he walked the rounds
about midnight, there was a light seen in the heaven, very
bright and flaming, which seemed to pass over Caesar's camp, and
fall into Pompey's.  And when Caesar's soldiers came to relieve
the watch in the morning, they perceived a panic disorder among
the enemies.  However, he did not expect to fight that day, but
set about raising his camp with the intention of marching
towards Scotussa.

But when the tents were now taken down, his scouts rode up to
him, and told him the enemy would give him battle.  With this
news he was extremely pleased, and having performed his
devotions to the gods, set his army in battle array, dividing
them into three bodies.  Over the middlemost he placed Domitius
Calvinus; Antony commanded the left wing, and he himself the
right, being resolved to fight at the head of the tenth legion.
But when he saw the enemies' cavalry taking position against
him, being struck with their fine appearance and their number,
he gave private orders that six cohorts from the rear of the
army should come round and join him, whom he posted behind the
right wing, and instructed them what they should do, when the
enemy's horse came to charge.  On the other side, Pompey
commanded the right wing, Domitius the left, and Scipio,
Pompey's father-in-law, the center.  The whole weight of the
cavalry was collected on the left wing, with the intent that
they should outflank the right wing of the enemy, and rout that
part where the general himself commanded.  For they thought no
phalanx of infantry could be solid enough to sustain such a
shock, but that they must necessarily be broken and shattered
all to pieces upon the onset of so immense a force of cavalry.
When they were ready on both sides to give the signal for
battle, Pompey commended his foot who were in the front to stand
their ground, and without breaking their order, receive quietly
the enemy's first attack, till they came within javelin's cast.
Caesar, in this respect, also, blames Pompey's generalship, as
if he had not been aware how the first encounter, when made with
an impetus and upon the run, gives weight and force to the
strokes, and fires the men's spirits into a flame, which the
general concurrence fans to full heat.  He himself was just
putting the troops into motion and advancing to the action, when
he found one of his captains, a trusty and experienced soldier,
encouraging his men to exert their utmost.  Caesar called him by
his name, and said, "What hopes, Caius Crassinius, and what
grounds for encouragement?"  Crassinius stretched out his hand,
and cried in a loud voice, "We shall conquer nobly, Caesar; and
I this day will deserve your praises, either alive or dead."  So
he said, and was the first man to run in upon the enemy,
followed by the hundred and twenty soldiers about him, and
breaking through the first rank, still pressed on forwards with
much slaughter of the enemy, till at last he was struck back by
the wound of a sword, which went in at his mouth with such force
that it came out at his neck behind.

Whilst the foot was thus sharply engaged in the main battle, on
the flank Pompey's horse rode up confidently, and opened their
ranks very wide, that they might surround the Fight wing of
Caesar.  But before they engaged, Caesar's cohorts rushed out
and attacked them, and did not dart their javelins at a
distance, nor strike at the thighs and legs, as they usually did
in close battle, but aimed at their faces.  For thus Caesar had
instructed them, in hopes that young gentlemen, who had not
known much of battles and wounds, but came wearing their hair
long, in the flower of their age and height of their beauty,
would be more apprehensive of such blows, and not care for
hazarding both a danger at present and a blemish for the future.
And so it proved, for they were so far from bearing the stroke
of the javelins, that they could not stand the sight of them,
but turned about, and covered their faces to secure them.  Once
in disorder, presently they turned about to fly; and so most
shamefully ruined all.  For those who had beat them back, at
once outflanked the infantry, and falling on their rear, cut
them to pieces.  Pompey, who commanded the other wing of the
army, when he saw his cavalry thus broken and flying, was no
longer himself, nor did he now remember that he was Pompey the
Great, but like one whom some god had deprived of his senses,
retired to his tent without speaking; a word, and there sat to
expect the event, till the whole army was routed, and the enemy
appeared upon the works which were thrown up before the camp,
where they closely engaged with his men, who were posted there
to defend it.  Then first he seemed to have recovered his
senses, and uttering, it is said, only these words, "What, into
the camp too?" he laid aside his general's habit, and putting on
such clothes as might best favor his flight, stole off.  What
fortune he met with afterwards, how he took shelter in Egypt,
and was murdered there, we tell you in his Life.

Caesar, when he came to view Pompey's camp, and saw some of his
opponents dead upon the ground, others dying, said, with a
groan, "This they would have; they brought me to this necessity.
I, Caius Caesar, after succeeding in so many wars, had been
condemned, had I dismissed my army."  These words, Pollio says,
Caesar spoke in Latin at that time, and that he himself wrote
them in Greek; adding, that those who were killed at the taking
of the camp, were most of them servants; and that not above six
thousand soldiers fell.  Caesar incorporated most of the foot
whom he took prisoners, with his own legions, and gave a free
pardon to many of the distinguished persons, and amongst the
rest, to Brutus, who afterwards killed him.  He did not
immediately appear after the battle was over, which put Caesar,
it is said, into great anxiety for him; nor was his pleasure
less when he saw him present himself alive.

There were many prodigies that foreshowed this victory, but the
most remarkable that we are told of, was that at Tralles.  In
the temple of Victory stood Caesar's statue.  The ground on
which it stood was naturally hard and solid, and the stone with
which it was paved still harder; yet it is said that a palm-tree
shot itself up near the pedestal of this statue.  In the city of
Padua, one Caius Cornelius, who had the character of a good
augur, the fellow-citizen and acquaintance of Livy, the
historian, happened to be making some augural observations that
very day when the battle was fought.  And first, as Livy tells
us, he pointed out the time of the fight, and said to those who
were by him, that just then the battle was begun, and the men
engaged.  When he looked a second time, and observed the omens,
he leaped up as if he had been inspired, and cried out, "Caesar,
you are victorious."  This much surprised the standers by, but
he took the garland which he had on from his head, and swore he
would never wear it again till the event should give authority
to his art.  This Livy positively states for a truth.

Caesar, as a memorial of his victory, gave the Thessalians
their freedom, and then went in pursuit of Pompey.  When he was
come into Asia, to gratify Theopompus, the author of the
collection of fables, he enfranchised the Cnidians, and remitted
one third of their tribute to all the people of the province of
Asia.  When he came to Alexandria, where Pompey was already
murdered, he would not look upon Theodotus, who presented him
with his head, but taking only his signet, shed tears.  Those of
Pompey's friends who had been arrested by the king of Egypt, as
they were wandering in those parts, he relieved, and offered
them his own friendship.  In his letter to his friends at Rome,
he told them that the greatest and most signal pleasure his
victory had given him, was to be able continually to save the
lives of fellow-citizens who had fought against him.  As to the
war in Egypt, some say it was at once dangerous and
dishonorable, and noways necessary, but occasioned only by his
passion for Cleopatra.  Others blame the ministers of the king,
and especially the eunuch Pothinus, who was the chief favorite,
and had lately killed Pompey, who had banished Cleopatra, and
was now secretly plotting Caesar's destruction, (to prevent
which, Caesar from that time began to sit up whole nights, under
pretense of drinking, for the security of his person,) while
openly he was intolerable in his affronts to Caesar, both by his
words and actions.  For when Caesar's soldiers had musty and
unwholesome corn measured out to them, Pothinus told them they
must be content with it, since they were fed at another's cost.
He ordered that his table should be served with wooden and
earthen dishes, and said Caesar had carried off all the gold and
silver plate, under pretense of arrears of debt.  For the
present king's father owed Caesar one thousand seven hundred and
fifty myriads of money; Caesar had formerly remitted to his
children the rest, but thought fit to demand the thousand
myriads at that time, to maintain his army.  Pothinus told him
that he had better go now and attend to his other affairs of
greater consequence, and that he should receive his money at
another time with thanks.  Caesar replied that he did not want
Egyptians to be his counselors, and soon after, privately sent
for Cleopatra from her retirement.

She took a small boat, and one only of her confidents,
Apollodorus, the Sicilian, along with her, and in the dusk of
the evening landed near the palace.  She was at a loss how to
get in undiscovered, till she thought of putting herself into
the coverlet of a bed and lying at length, whilst Apollodorus
tied up the bedding and carried it on his back through the gates
to Caesar's apartment.  Caesar was first captivated by this
proof of Cleopatra's bold wit, and was afterwards so overcome by
the charm of her society, that he made a reconciliation between
her and her brother, on condition that she should rule as his
colleague in the kingdom.  A festival was kept to celebrate this
reconciliation, where Caesar's barber, a busy, listening fellow,
whose excessive timidity made him inquisitive into everything,
discovered that there was a plot carrying on against Caesar by
Achillas, general of the king's forces, and Pothinus, the
eunuch.  Caesar, upon the first intelligence of it, set a guard
upon the hall where the feast was kept, and killed Pothinus.
Achillas escaped to the army, and raised a troublesome and
embarrassing war against Caesar, which it was not easy for him
to manage with his few soldiers against so powerful a city and
so large an army.  The first difficulty he met with was want of
water, for the enemies had turned the canals. Another was, when
the enemy endeavored to cut off his communication by sea, he was
forced to divert that danger by setting fire to his own ships,
which, after burning the docks, thence spread on and destroyed
the great library.  A third was, when in an engagement near
Pharos, he leaped from the mole into a small boat, to assist his
soldiers who were in danger, and when the Egyptians pressed him
on every side, he threw himself into the sea, and with much
difficulty swam off.  This was the time when, according to the
story, he had a number of manuscripts in his hand, which, though
he was continually darted at, and forced to keep his head often
under water, yet he did not let go, but held them up safe from
wetting in one hand, whilst he swam with the other.  His boat,
in the meantime, was quickly sunk.  At last, the king having
gone off to Achillas and his party, Caesar engaged and conquered
them.  Many fell in that battle, and the king himself was never
seen after.  Upon this, he left Cleopatra queen of Egypt, who
soon after had a son by him, whom the Alexandrians called
Caesarion, and then departed for Syria.

Thence he passed to Asia, where he heard that Domitius was
beaten by Pharnaces, son of Mithridates, and had fled out of
Pontus with a handful of men; and that Pharnaces pursued the
victory so eagerly, that though he was already master of
Bithynia and Cappadocia, he had a further design of attempting
the Lesser Armenia, and was inviting all the kings and tetrarchs
there to rise.  Caesar immediately marched against him with
three legions, fought him near Zela, drove him out of Pontus,
and totally defeated his army.  When he gave Amantius, a friend
of his at Rome, an account of this action, to express the
promptness and rapidity of it, he used three words, I came, saw,
and conquered, which in Latin having all the same cadence,
carry with them a very suitable air of brevity.

Hence he crossed into Italy, and came to Rome at the end of that
year, for which he had been a second time chosen dictator,
though that office had never before lasted a whole year, and was
elected consul for the next.  He was ill spoken of, because upon
a mutiny of some soldiers, who killed Cosconius and Galba, who
had been praetors, he gave them only the slight reprimand of
calling them Citizens, instead of Fellow-Soldiers, and
afterwards assigned to each man a thousand drachmas, besides a
share of lands in Italy.  He was also reflected on for
Dolabella's extravagance, Amantius's covetousness, Antony's
debauchery, and Corfinius's profuseness, who pulled down
Pompey's house, and rebuilt it, as not magnificent enough; for
the Romans were much displeased with all these.  But Caesar, for
the prosecution of his own scheme of government, though he knew
their characters and disapproved them, was forced to make use of
those who would serve him.

After the battle of Pharsalia, Cato and Scipio fled into Africa,
and there, with the assistance of king Juba, got together a
considerable force, which Caesar resolved to engage.  He,
accordingly, passed into Sicily about the winter-solstice, and
to remove from his officers' minds all hopes of delay there,
encamped by the sea-shore, and as soon as ever he had a fair
wind, put to sea with three thousand foot and a few horse.  When
he had landed them, he went back secretly, under some
apprehensions for the larger part of his army, but met them upon
the sea, and brought them all to the same camp.  There he was
informed that the enemies relied much upon an ancient oracle,
that the family of the Scipios should be always victorious in
Africa.  There was in his army a man, otherwise mean and
contemptible, but of the house of the Africani, and his name
Scipio Sallutio.  This man Caesar, (whether in raillery, to
ridicule Scipio, who commended the enemy, or seriously to bring
over the omen to his side, it were hard to say,) put at the head
of his troops, as if he were general, in all the frequent
battles which he was compelled to fight.  For he was in such
want both of victualing for his men, and forage for his horses,
that he was forced to feed the horses with sea-weed, which he
washed thoroughly to take off its saltiness, and mixed with a
little grass, to give it a more agreeable taste.  The Numidians,
in great numbers, and well horsed, whenever he went, came up and
commanded the country.  Caesar's cavalry being one day
unemployed, diverted themselves with seeing an African, who
entertained them with dancing and at the same time playing upon
the pipe to admiration.  They were so taken with this, that they
alighted, and gave their horses to some boys, when on a sudden
the enemy surrounded them, killed some, pursued the rest, and
fell in with them into their camp; and had not Caesar himself
and Asinius Pollio come to their assistance, and put a stop to
their flight, the war had been then at an end.  In another
engagement, also, the enemy had again the better, when Caesar,
it is said, seized a standard-bearer, who was running away, by
the neck, and forcing him to face about, said, "Look, that is
the way to the enemy."

Scipio, flushed with this success at first, had a mind to come to
one decisive action.  He therefore left Afranius and Juba in two
distinct bodies not far distant, and marched himself towards
Thapsus, where he proceeded to build a fortified camp above a
lake, to serve as a center-point for their operations, and also
as a place of refuge.  Whilst Scipio was thus employed, Caesar
with incredible dispatch made his way through thick woods, and a
country supposed to be impassable, cut off one party of the
enemy, and attacked another in the front.  Having routed these,
he followed up his opportunity and the current of his good
fortune, and on the first onset carried Afranius's camp, and
ravaged that of the Numidians, Juba, their king, being glad to
save himself by flight; so that in a small part of a single day
he made himself master of three camps, and killed fifty thousand
of the enemy, with the loss only of fifty of his own men.  This
is the account some give of that fight.  Others say, he was not
in the action, but that he was taken with his usual distemper
just as he was setting his army in order.  He perceived the
approaches of it, and before it had too far disordered his
senses, when he was already beginning to shake under its
influence, withdrew into a neighboring fort, where he reposed
himself.  Of the men of consular and praetorian dignity that
were taken after the fight, several Caesar put to death, others
anticipated him by killing themselves.

Cato had undertaken to defend Utica, and for that reason was not
in the battle.  The desire which Caesar had to take him alive,
made him hasten thither; and upon the intelligence that he had
dispatched himself, he was much discomposed, for what reason is
not so well agreed.  He certainly said, "Cato, I must grudge you
your death, as you grudged me the honor of saving your life."
Yet the discourse he wrote against Cato after his death, is no
great sign of his kindness, or that he was inclined to be
reconciled to him.  For how is it probable that he would have
been tender of his life, when he was so bitter against his
memory?  But from his clemency to Cicero, Brutus, and many
others who fought against him, it may be divined that Caesar's
book was not written so much out of animosity to Cato, as in his
own vindication.  Cicero had written an encomium upon Cato, and
called it by his name.  A composition by so great a master upon
so excellent a subject, was sure to be in everyone's hands.
This touched Caesar, who looked upon a panegyric on his enemy,
as no better than an invective against himself; and therefore he
made in his Anti-Cato, a collection of whatever could be said in
his derogation.  The two compositions, like Cato and Caesar
themselves, have each of them their several admirers.

Caesar, upon his return to Rome, did not omit to pronounce
before the people a magnificent account of his victory, telling
them that he had subdued a country which would supply the public
every year with two hundred thousand attic bushels of corn, and
three million pounds weight of oil.  He then led three triumphs
for Egypt, Pontus, and Africa, the last for the victory over,
not Scipio, but king Juba, as it was professed, whose little son
was then carried in the triumph, the happiest captive that ever
was, who of a barbarian Numidian, came by this means to obtain a
place among the most learned historians of Greece.  After the
triumphs, he distributed rewards to his soldiers, and treated
the people with feasting and shows.  He entertained the whole
people together at one feast, where twenty-two thousand dining
couches were laid out; and he made a display of gladiators, and
of battles by sea, in honor, as he said, of his daughter Julia,
though she had been long since dead.  When these shows were
over, an account was taken of the people, who from three hundred
and twenty thousand, were now reduced to one hundred and fifty
thousand.  So great a waste had the civil war made in Rome
alone, not to mention what the other parts of Italy and the
provinces suffered.

He was now chosen a fourth time consul, and went into Spain
against Pompey's sons.  They were but young, yet had gathered
together a very numerous army, and showed they had courage and
conduct to command it, so that Caesar was in extreme danger.
The great battle was near the town of Munda, in which Caesar
seeing his men hard pressed, and making but a weak resistance,
ran through the ranks among the soldiers, and crying out, asked
them whether they were not ashamed to deliver him into the hands
of boys?  At last, with great difficulty, and the best efforts
he could make, he forced back the enemy, killing thirty thousand
of them, though with the loss of one thousand of his best men.
When he came back from the fight, he told his friends that he
had often fought for victory, but this was the first time that
he had ever fought for life.  This battle was won on the feast
of Bacchus, the very day in which Pompey, four years before.
had set out for the war.  The younger of Pompey's sons escaped;
but Didius, some days after the fight, brought the head of the
elder to Caesar.  This was the last war he was engaged in.  The
triumph which he celebrated for this victory, displeased the
Romans beyond any thing.  For he had not defeated foreign
generals, or barbarian kings, but had destroyed the children and
family of one of the greatest men of Rome, though unfortunate;
and it did not look well to lead a procession in celebration of
the calamities of his country, and to rejoice in those things
for which no other apology could be made either to gods or men,
than their being absolutely necessary.  Besides that, hitherto
he had never sent letters or messengers to announce any victory
over his fellow-citizens, but had seemed rather to be ashamed of
the action, than to expect honor from it.

Nevertheless his countrymen, conceding all to his fortune, and
accepting the bit, in the hope that the government of a single
person would give them time to breathe after so many civil wars
and calamities, made him dictator for life.  This was indeed a
tyranny avowed, since his power now was not only absolute, but
perpetual too.  Cicero made the first proposals to the senate
for conferring honors upon him, which might in some sort be said
not to exceed the limits of ordinary human moderation.  But
others, striving which should deserve most, carried them so
excessively high, that they made Caesar odious to the most
indifferent and moderate sort of men, by the pretension and the
extravagance of the titles which they decreed him.  His enemies,
too, are thought to have had some share in this, as well as his
flatterers.  It gave them advantage against him, and would be
their justification for any attempt they should make upon him;
for since the civil wars were ended, he had nothing else that he
could be charged with.  And they had good reason to decree a
temple to Clemency, in token of their thanks for the mild use he
made of his victory.  For he not only pardoned many of those who
fought against him, but, further, to some gave honors and
offices; as particularly to Brutus and Cassius, who both of them
were praetors.  Pompey's images that were thrown down, he set up
again, upon which Cicero also said that by raising Pompey's
statues he had fixed his own.  When his friends advised him to
have a guard, and several offered their service, he would not
hear of it; but said it was better to suffer death once, than
always to live in fear of it.  He looked upon the affections of
the people to be the best and surest guard, and entertained them
again with public feasting, and general distributions of corn;
and to gratify his army, he sent out colonies to several places,
of which the most remarkable were Carthage and Corinth; which as
before they had been ruined at the same time, so now were
restored and repeopled together.

As for the men of high rank, he promised to some of them future
consulships and praetorships, some he consoled with other
offices and honors, and to all held out hopes of favor by the
solicitude he showed to rule with the general good-will;
insomuch that upon the death of Maximus one day before his
consulship was ended, he made Caninius Revilius consul for that
day.  And when many went to pay the usual compliments and
attentions to the new consul, "Let us make haste," said Cicero,
"lest the man be gone out of his office before we come."

Caesar was born to do great things, and had a passion after
honor, and the many noble exploits he had done did not now serve
as an inducement to him to sit still and reap the fruit of his
past labors, but were incentives and encouragments to go on, and
raised in him ideas of still greater actions, and a desire of
new glory, as if the present were all spent.  It was in fact a
sort of emulous struggle with himself, as it had been with
another, how he might outdo his past actions by his future.  In
pursuit of these thoughts, he resolved to make war upon the
Parthians, and when he had subdued them, to pass through
Hyrcania; thence to march along by the Caspian Sea to Mount
Caucasus, and so on about Pontus, till he came into Scythia;
then to overrun all the countries bordering upon Germany, and
Germany itself; and so to return through Gaul into Italy, after
completing the whole circle of his intended empire, and bounding
it on every side by the ocean.  While preparations were making
for this expedition, he proposed to dig through the isthmus on
which Corinth stands; and appointed Anienus to superintend the
work.  He had also a design of diverting the Tiber, and carrying
it by a deep channel directly from Rome to Circeii, and so into
the sea near Tarracina, that there might be a safe and easy
passage for all merchants who traded to Rome.  Besides this, he
intended to drain all the marshes by Pomentium and Setia, and
gain ground enough from the water to employ many thousands of
men in tillage.  He proposed further to make great mounds on the
shore nearest Rome, to hinder the sea from breaking in upon the
land, to clear the coast at Ostia of all the hidden rocks and
shoals that made it unsafe for shipping, and to form ports and
harbors fit to receive the large number of vessels that would
frequent them.

These things were designed without being carried into effect;
but his reformation of the calendar, in order to rectify the
irregularity of time, was not only projected with great
scientific ingenuity, but was brought to its completion, and
proved of very great use.  For it was not only in ancient times
that the Romans had wanted a certain rule to make the
revolutions of their months fall in with the course of the year,
so that their festivals and solemn days for sacrifice were
removed by little and little, till at last they came to be kept
at seasons quite the contrary to what was at first intended, but
even at this time the people had no way of computing the solar
year; only the priests could say the time, and they, at their
pleasure, without giving any notice, slipped in the intercalary
month, which they called Mercedonius.  Numa was the first who
put in this month, but his expedient was but a poor one and
quite inadequate to correct all the errors that arose in the
returns of the annual cycles, as we have shown in his life.
Caesar called in the best philosophers and mathematicians of his
time to settle the point, and out of the systems he had before
him, formed a new and more exact method of correcting the
calendar, which the Romans use to this day, and seem to succeed
better than any nation in avoiding the errors occasioned by the
inequality of the cycles.  Yet even this gave offense to those
who looked with an evil eye on his position, and felt oppressed
by his power.  Cicero, the orator, when someone in his company
chanced to say, the next morning Lyra would rise, replied, "Yes,
in accordance with the edict," as if even this were a matter of
compulsion.

But that which brought upon him the most apparent and mortal
hatred, was his desire of being king; which gave the common
people the first occasion to quarrel with him, and proved the
most specious pretense to those who had been his secret enemies
all along.  Those, who would have procured him that title, gave
it out, that it was foretold in the Sybils' books that the
Romans should conquer the Parthians when they fought against
them under the conduct of a king, but not before.  And one day,
as Caesar was coming down from Alba to Rome, some were so bold
as to salute him by the name of king; but he finding the people
disrelish it, seemed to resent it himself, and said his name was
Caesar, not king.  Upon this, there was a general silence, and
he passed on looking not very well pleased or contented.
Another time, when the senate had conferred on him some
extravagant honors, he chanced to receive the message as he was
sitting on the rostra, where, though the consuls and praetors
themselves waited on him, attended by the whole body of the
senate, he did not rise, but behaved himself to them as if they
had been private men, and told them his honors wanted rather to
be retrenched than increased.  This treatment offended not only
the senate, but the commonalty too, as if they thought the
affront upon the senate equally reflected upon the whole
republic; so that all who could decently leave him went off,
looking much discomposed.  Caesar, perceiving the false step he
had made, immediately retired home; and laying his throat bare,
told his friends that he was ready to offer this to anyone who
would give the stroke.  But afterwards he made the malady from
which he suffered, the excuse for his sitting, saying that those
who are attacked by it, lose their presence of mind, if they
talk much standing; that they presently grow giddy, fall into
convulsions, and quite lose their reason.  But this was not the
reality, for he would willingly have stood up to the senate, had
not Cornelius Balbus, one of his friends, or rather flatterers,
hindered him.  "Will you not remember," said he, "you are
Caesar, and claim the honor which is due to your merit?"

He gave a fresh occasion of resentment by his affront to the
tribunes.  The Lupercalia were then celebrated, a feast at the
first institution belonging, as some writers say, to the
shepherds, and having some connection with the Arcadian Lycaea.
Many young noblemen and magistrates run up and down the city
with their upper garments off, striking all they meet with
thongs of hide, by way of sport; and many women, even of the
highest rank, place themselves in the way, and hold out their
hands to the lash, as boys in a school do to the master, out of
a belief that it procures an easy labor to those who are with
child, and makes those conceive who are barren.  Caesar, dressed
in a triumphal robe, seated himself in a golden chair at the
rostra, to view this ceremony.  Antony, as consul, was one of
those who ran this course, and when he came into the forum, and
the people made way for him, he went up and reached to Caesar a
diadem wreathed with laurel.  Upon this, there was a shout, but
only a slight one, made by the few who were planted there for
that purpose; but when Caesar refused it, there was universal
applause.  Upon the second offer, very few, and upon the second
refusal, all again applauded.  Caesar finding it would not take,
rose up, and ordered the crown to be carried into the capitol.
Caesar's statues were afterwards found with royal diadems on
their heads.  Flavius and Marullus, two tribunes of the people,
went presently and pulled them off, and having apprehended those
who first saluted Caesar as king, committed them to prison.  The
people followed them with acclamations, and called them by the
name of Brutus, because Brutus was the first who ended the
succession of kings, and transferred the power which before was
lodged in one man into the hands of the senate and people.
Caesar so far resented this, that he displaced Marullus and
Flavius; and in urging his charges against them, at the same
time ridiculed the people, by himself giving the men more than
once the names of Bruti, and Cumaei.

This made the multitude turn their thoughts to Marcus Brutus,
who, by his father's side, was thought to be descended from that
first Brutus, and by his mother's side from the Servilii,
another noble family, being besides nephew and son-in-law to
Cato.  But the honors and favors he had received from Caesar,
took off the edge from the desires he might himself have felt
for overthrowing the new monarchy.  For he had not only been
pardoned himself after Pompey's defeat at Pharsalia, and had
procured the same grace for many of his friends, but was one in
whom Caesar had a particular confidence.  He had at that time
the most honorable praetorship of the year, and was named for
the consulship four years after, being preferred before Cassius,
his competitor.  Upon the question as to the choice, Caesar, it
is related, said that Cassius had the fairer pretensions, but
that he could not pass by Brutus.  Nor would he afterwards
listen to some who spoke against Brutus, when the conspiracy
against him was already afoot, but laying his hand on his body,
said to the informers, "Brutus will wait for this skin of mine,"
intimating that he was worthy to bear rule on account of his
virtue, but would not be base and ungrateful to gain it.  Those
who desired a change, and looked on him as the only, or at least
the most proper, person to effect it, did not venture to speak
with him; but in the night time laid papers about his chair of
state, where he used to sit and determine causes, with such
sentences in them as, "You are asleep, Brutus," "You are no
longer Brutus."  Cassius, when he perceived his ambition a
little raised upon this, was more instant than before to work
him yet further, having himself a private grudge against Caesar,
for some reasons that we have mentioned in the Life of Brutus.
Nor was Caesar without suspicions of him, and said once to his
friends, "What do you think Cassius is aiming at?  I don't like
him, he looks so pale."  And when it was told him that Antony
and Dolabella were in a plot against him, he said he did not
fear such fat, luxurious men, but rather the pale, lean fellows,
meaning Cassius and Brutus.

Fate, however, is to all appearance more unavoidable than
unexpected.  For many strange prodigies and apparitions are said
to have been observed shortly before the event.  As to the
lights in the heavens, the noises heard in the night, and the
wild birds which perched in the forum, these are not perhaps
worth taking notice of in so great a case as this.  Strabo, the
philosopher, tells us that a number of men were seen, looking as
if they were heated through with fire, contending with each
other; that a quantity of flame issued from the hand of a
soldier's servant, so that they who saw it thought he must be
burnt, but that after all he had no hurt.  As Caesar was
sacrificing, the victim's heart was missing, a very bad omen,
because no living creature can subsist without a heart.  One
finds it also related by many, that a soothsayer bade him
prepare for some great danger on the ides of March.  When the
day was come, Caesar, as he went to the senate, met this
soothsayer, and said to him by way of raillery, "The ides of
March are come;" who answered him calmly, "Yes, they are come,
but they are not past."  The day before this assassination, he
supped with Marcus Lepidus; and as he was signing some letters,
according to his custom, as he reclined at table, there arose a
question what sort of death was the best.  At which he
immediately, before anyone could speak, said, "A sudden one."

After this, as he was in bed with his wife, all the doors and
windows of the house flew open together; he was startled at the
noise, and the light which broke into the room, and sat up in
his bed, where by the moonshine he perceived Calpurnia fast
asleep, but heard her utter in her dream some indistinct words
and inarticulate groans.  She fancied at that time she was
weeping over Caesar, and holding him butchered in her arms.
Others say this was not her dream, but that she dreamed that a
pinnacle which the senate, as Livy relates, had ordered to be
raised on Caesar's house by way of ornament and grandeur, was
tumbling down, which was the occasion of her tears and
ejaculations.  When it was day, she begged of Caesar, if it were
possible, not to stir out, but to adjourn the senate to another
time; and if he slighted her dreams, that he would be pleased to
consult his fate by sacrifices, and other kinds of divination.
Nor was he himself without some suspicion and fears; for he
never before discovered any womanish superstition in Calpurnia,
whom he now saw in such great alarm.  Upon the report which the
priests made to him, that they had killed several sacrifices,
and still found them inauspicious, he resolved to send Antony to
dismiss the senate.

In this juncture, Decimus Brutus, surnamed Albinus, one whom
Caesar had such confidence in that he made him his second heir,
who nevertheless was engaged in the conspiracy with the other
Brutus and Cassius, fearing lest if Caesar should put off the
senate to another day, the business might get wind, spoke
scoffingly and in mockery of the diviners, and blamed Caesar for
giving the senate so fair an occasion of saying he had put a
slight upon them, for that they were met upon his summons, and
were ready to vote unanimously, that he should be declared king
of all the provinces out of Italy, and might wear a diadem in
any other place but Italy, by sea or land.  If anyone should be
sent to tell them they might break up for the present, and meet
again when Calpurnia should chance to have better dreams, what
would his enemies say?  Or who would with any patience hear his
friends, if they should presume to defend his government as not
arbitrary and tyrannical?  But if he was possessed so far as to
think this day unfortunate, yet it were more decent to go
himself to the senate, and to adjourn it in his own person.
Brutus, as he spoke these words, took Caesar by the hand, and
conducted him forth.  He was not gone far from the door, when a
servant of some other person's made towards him, but not being
able to come up to him, on account of the crowd of those who
pressed about him, he made his way into the house, and committed
himself to Calpurnia, begging of her to secure him till Caesar
returned, because he had matters of great importance to
communicate to him.

Artemidorus, a Cnidian, a teacher of Greek logic, and by that
means so far acquainted with Brutus and his friends as to have
got into the secret, brought Caesar in a small written memorial,
the heads of what he had to depose.  He had observed that
Caesar, as he received any papers, presently gave them to the
servants who attended on him; and therefore came as near to him
as he could, and said, "Read this, Caesar, alone, and quickly,
for it contains matter of great importance which nearly concerns
you."  Caesar received it, and tried several times to read it,
but was still hindered by the crowd of those who came to speak
to him.  However, he kept it in his hand by itself till he came
into the senate.  Some say it was another who gave Caesar this
note, and that Artemidorus could not get to him, being all along
kept off by the crowd.

All these things might happen by chance.  But the place which
was destined for the scene of this murder, in which the senate
met that day, was the same in which Pompey's statue stood, and
was one of the edifices which Pompey had raised and dedicated
with his theater to the use of the public, plainly showing that
there was something of a supernatural influence which guided the
action, and ordered it to that particular place.  Cassius, just
before the act, is said to have looked towards Pompey's statue,
and silently implored his assistance, though he had been
inclined to the doctrines of Epicurus.  But this occasion, and
the instant danger, carried him away out of all his reasonings,
and filled him for the time with a sort of inspiration.  As for
Antony, who was firm to Caesar, and a strong man, Brutus Albinus
kept him outside the house, and delayed him with a long
conversation contrived on purpose.  When Caesar entered, the
senate stood up to show their respect to him, and of Brutus's
confederates, some came about his chair and stood behind it,
others met him, pretending to add their petitions to those of
Tillius Cimber, in behalf of his brother, who was in exile; and
they followed him with their joint supplications till he came to
his seat.  When he was sat down, he refused to comply with their
requests, and upon their urging him further, began to reproach
them severally for their importunities, when Tillius, laying
hold of his robe with both his hands, pulled it down from his
neck, which was the signal for the assault.  Casca gave him the
first cut, in the neck, which was not mortal nor dangerous, as
coming from one who at the beginning of such a bold action was
probably very much disturbed.  Caesar immediately turned about,
and laid his hand upon the dagger and kept hold of it.  And both
of them at the same time cried out, he that received the blow,
in Latin, "Vile Casca, what does this mean?" and he that gave
it, in Greek, to his brother, "Brother, help!"  Upon this first
onset, those who were not privy to the design were astonished
and their horror and amazement at what they saw were so great,
that they durst not fly nor assist Caesar, nor so much as speak
a word.  But those who came prepared for the business enclosed
him on every side, with their naked daggers in their hands.
Which way soever he turned, he met with blows, and saw their
swords leveled at his face and eyes, and was encompassed, like a
wild beast in the toils, on every side.  For it had been agreed
they should each of them make a thrust at him, and flesh
themselves with his blood; for which reason Brutus also gave him
one stab in the groin.  Some say that he fought and resisted all
the rest, shifting his body to avoid the blows, and calling out
for help, but that when he saw Brutus's sword drawn, he covered
his face with his robe and submitted, letting himself fall,
whether it were by chance, or that he was pushed in that
direction by his murderers, at the foot of the pedestal on which
Pompey's statue stood, and which was thus wetted with his blood.
So that Pompey himself seemed to have presided, as it were, over
the revenge done upon his adversary, who lay here at his feet,
and breathed out his soul through his multitude of wounds, for
they say he received three and twenty.  And the conspirators
themselves were many of them wounded by each other, whilst they
all leveled their blows at the same person.

When Caesar was dispatched, Brutus stood forth to give a reason
for what they had done, but the senate would not hear him, but
flew out of doors in all haste, and filled the people with so
much alarm and distraction, that some shut up their houses,
others left their counters and shops.  All ran one way or the
other, some to the place to see the sad spectacle, others back
again after they had seen it.  Antony and Lepidus, Caesar's
most faithful friends, got off privately, and hid themselves in
some friends' houses.  Brutus and his followers, being yet hot
from the deed, marched in a body from the senate-house to the
capitol with their drawn swords, not like persons who thought of
escaping, but with an air of confidence and assurance, and as
they went along, called to the people to resume their liberty,
and invited the company of any more distinguished people whom
they met.  And some of these joined the procession and went up
along with them, as if they also had been of the conspiracy, and
could claim a share in the honor of what had been done.  As, for
example, Caius Octavius and Lentulus Spinther, who suffered
afterwards for their vanity, being taken off by Antony and the
young Caesar, and lost the honor they desired, as well as their
lives, which it cost them, since no one believed they had any
share in the action.  For neither did those who punished them
profess to revenge the fact, but the ill-will.  The day after,
Brutus with the rest came down from the capitol, and made a
speech to the people, who listened without expressing either any
pleasure or resentment, but showed by their silence that they
pitied Caesar, and respected Brutus.  The senate passed acts of
oblivion for what was past, and took measures to reconcile all
parties.  They ordered that Caesar should be worshipped as a
divinity, and nothing, even of the slightest consequence, should
be revoked, which he had enacted during his government.  At the
same time they gave Brutus and his followers the command of
provinces, and other considerable posts.  So that all people now
thought things were well settled, and brought to the happiest
adjustment.

But when Caesar's will was opened, and it was found that he had
left a considerable legacy to each one of the Roman citizens,
and when his body was seen carried through the market-place all
mangled with wounds, the multitude could no longer contain
themselves within the bounds of tranquillity and order, but
heaped together a pile of benches, bars, and tables, which they
placed the corpse on, and setting fire to it, burnt it on them.
Then they took brands from the pile, and ran some to fire the
houses of the conspirators, others up and down the city, to find
out the men and tear them to pieces, but met, however, with none
of them, they having taken effectual care to secure themselves.

One Cinna, a friend of Caesar's, chanced the night before to
have an odd dream.  He fancied that Caesar invited him to
supper, and that upon his refusal to go with him, Caesar took
him by the hand and forced him, though he hung back.  Upon
hearing the report that Caesar's body was burning in the
market-place, he got up and went thither, out of respect to his
memory, though his dream gave him some ill apprehensions, and
though he was suffering from a fever.  One of the crowd who saw
him there, asked another who that was, and having learned his
name, told it to his next neighbor.  It presently passed for a
certainty that he was one of Caesar's murderers, as, indeed,
there was another Cinna, a conspirator, and they, taking this to
be the man, immediately seized him, and tore him limb from limb
upon the spot.

Brutus and Cassius, frightened at this, within a few days
retired out of the city.  What they afterwards did and suffered,
and how they died, is written in the Life of Brutus.  Caesar
died in his fifty-sixth year, not having survived Pompey above
four years.  That empire and power which he had pursued through
the whole course of his life with so much hazard, he did at last
with much difficulty compass, but reaped no other fruits from it
than the empty name and invidious glory.  But the great genius
which attended him through his lifetime, even after his death
remained as the avenger of his murder, pursuing through every
sea and land all those who were concerned in it, and suffering
none to escape, but reaching all who in any sort or kind were
either actually engaged in the fact, or by their counsels any
way promoted it.

The most remarkable of mere human coincidences was that which
befell Cassius, who, when he was defeated at Philippi, killed
himself with the same dagger which he had made use of against
Caesar.  The most signal preternatural appearances were the
great comet, which shone very bright for seven nights after
Caesar's death, and then disappeared, and the dimness of the
sun, whose orb continued pale and dull for the whole of that
year, never showing its ordinary radiance at its rising, and
giving but a weak and feeble heat.  The air consequently was
damp and gross, for want of stronger rays to open and rarify it.
The fruits, for that reason, never properly ripened, and began
to wither and fall off for want of heat, before they were fully
formed.  But above all, the phantom which appeared to Brutus
showed the murder was not pleasing to the gods.  The story of it
is this.

Brutus being to pass his army from Abydos to the continent on
the other side, laid himself down one night, as he used to do,
in his tent, and was not asleep, but thinking of his affairs,
and what events he might expect.  For he is related to have been
the least inclined to sleep of all men who have commanded
armies, and to have had the greatest natural capacity for
continuing awake, and employing himself without need of rest.
He thought he heard a noise at the door of his tent, and looking
that way, by the light of his lamp, which was almost out, saw a
terrible figure, like that of a man, but of unusual stature and
severe countenance.  He was somewhat frightened at first, but
seeing it neither did nor spoke anything to him, only stood
silently by his bed-side, he asked who it was.  The specter
answered him, "Thy evil genius, Brutus, thou shalt see me at
Philippi."  Brutus answered courageously, "Well, I shall see
you," and immediately the appearance vanished.  When the time
was come, he drew up his army near Philippi against Antony and
Caesar, and in the first battle won the day, routed the enemy,
and plundered Caesar's camp.  The night before the second
battle, the same phantom appeared to him again, but spoke not a
word.  He presently understood his destiny was at hand, and
exposed himself to all the danger of the battle.  Yet he did not
die in the fight, but seeing his men defeated, got up to the top
of a rock, and there presenting his sword to his naked breast,
and assisted, as they say, by a friend, who helped him to give
the thrust, met his death.

PHOCION

Demades, the orator, when in the height of the power which he
obtained at Athens by advising the state in the interest of
Antipater and the Macedonians, being necessitated to write and
speak many things below the dignity, and contrary to the
character, of the city, was wont to excuse himself by saying he
steered only the shipwrecks of the commonwealth.  This hardy
saying of his might have some appearance of truth, if applied to
Phocion's government.  For Demades indeed was himself the mere
wreck of his country, living and ruling so dissolutely, that
Antipater took occasion to say of him, when he was now grown old,
that he was like a sacrificed beast, all consumed except the
tongue and the belly.  But Phocion's was a real virtue, only
overmatched in the unequal contest with an adverse time, and
rendered by the ill fortunes of Greece inglorious and obscure.  We
must not, indeed, allow ourselves to concur with Sophocles in so
far diminishing the force of virtue as to say that,

When fortune fails, the sense we had before
Deserts us also, and is ours no more.

Yet thus much, indeed, must be allowed to happen in the conflicts
between good men and ill fortune, that instead of due returns of
honor and gratitude, obloquy and unjust surmises may often
prevail, to weaken, in a considerable degree, the credit of their
virtue.

It is commonly said that public bodies are most insulting and
contumelious to a good man, when they are puffed up with
prosperity and success.  But the contrary often happens;
afflictions and public calamities naturally embittering and
souring the minds and tempers of men, and disposing them to such
peevishness and irritability, that hardly any word or sentiment of
common vigor can be addressed to them, but they will be apt to
take offense.  He that remonstrates with them on their errors, is
presumed to be insulting over their misfortunes, and any free
spoken expostulation is construed into contempt.  Honey itself is
searching in sore and ulcerated parts; and the wisest and most
judicious counsels prove provoking to distempered minds, unless
offered with those soothing and compliant approaches which made
the poet, for instance, characterize agreeable things in general,
by a word expressive of a grateful and easy touch, exciting
nothing of offense or resistance.  Inflamed eyes require a retreat
into dusky places, amongst colors of the deepest shades, and are
unable to endure the brilliancy of light.  So fares it in the body
politic, in times of distress and humiliation; a certain
sensitiveness and soreness of humor prevail, with a weak
incapacity of enduring any free and open advice, even when the
necessity of affairs most requires such plain-dealing, and when
the consequences of any single error may be beyond retrieving.  At
such times the conduct of public affairs is on all hands most
hazardous.  Those who humor the people are swallowed up in the
common ruin; those who endeavor to lead them aright, perish the
first in their attempt.

Astronomers tell us, the sun's motion is neither exactly parallel
with that of the heavens in general, nor yet directly and
diametrically opposite, but describing an oblique line, with
insensible declination he steers his course in such a gentle, easy
curve, as to dispense his light and influence, in his annual
revolution, at several seasons, in just proportions to the whole
creation.  So it happens in political affairs; if the motions of
rulers be constantly opposite and cross to the tempers and
inclination of the people, they will be resented as arbitrary and
harsh; as, on the other side, too much deference, or
encouragement, as too often it has been, to popular faults and
errors, is full of danger and ruinous consequences.  But where
concession is the response to willing obedience, and a statesman
gratifies his people, that he may the more imperatively recall
them to a sense of the common interest, then, indeed, human
beings, who are ready enough to serve well and submit to much, if
they are not always ordered about and roughly handled, like
slaves, may be said to be guided and governed upon the method that
leads to safety.  Though it must be confessed, it is a nice point
and extremely difficult, so to temper this lenity as to preserve
the authority of the government.  But if such a blessed mixture
and temperament may be obtained, it seems to be of all concords
and harmonies the most concordant and most harmonious.  For thus
we are taught even God governs the world, not by irresistible
force, but persuasive argument and reason, controlling it into
compliance with his eternal purposes.

Cato the younger is a similar instance.  His manners were little
agreeable or acceptable to the people, and he received very
slender marks of their favor; witness his repulse when he sued for
the consulship, which he lost, as Cicero says, for acting rather
like a citizen in Plato's commonwealth, than among the dregs of
Romulus's posterity, the same thing happening to him, in my
opinion, as we observe in fruits ripe before their season, which
we rather take pleasure in looking at and admiring, than actually
use; so much was his old-fashioned virtue out of the present mode,
among the depraved customs which time and luxury had introduced,
that it appeared indeed remarkable and wonderful, but was too
great and too good to suit the present exigencies, being so out of
all proportion to the times.  Yet his circumstances were not
altogether like Phocion's, who came to the helm when the ship of
the state was just upon sinking.  Cato's time was, indeed, stormy
and tempestuous, yet so as he was able to assist in managing the
sails, and lend his helping hand to those who, which he was not
allowed to do, commanded at the helm.  Others were to blame for
the result; yet his courage and virtue made it in spite of all a
hard task for fortune to ruin the commonwealth, and it was only
with long time and effort and by slow degrees, when he himself had
all but succeeded in averting it, that the catastrophe was at last
effected.

Phocion and he may be well compared together, not for any mere
general resemblances, as though we should say, both were good men
and great statesmen.  For assuredly there is difference enough among
virtues of the same denomination, as between the bravery of
Alcibiades and that of Epaminondas, the prudence of Themistocles
and that of Aristides, the justice of Numa and that of Agesilaus.
But these men's virtues, even looking to the most minute points of
difference, bear the same color, stamp, and character impressed
upon them, so as not to be distinguishable.  The mixture is still
made in the same exact proportions, whether we look at the
combination to be found in them both of lenity on the one hand,
with austerity on the other; their boldness upon some occasions,
and caution on others; their extreme solicitude for the public,
and perfect neglect of themselves; their fixed and immovable bent
to all virtuous and honest actions, accompanied with an extreme
tenderness and scrupulosity as to doing anything which might
appear mean or unworthy; so that we should need a very nice and
subtle logic of discrimination to detect and establish the
distinctions between them.

As to Cato's extraction, it is confessed by all to have been
illustrious, as will be said hereafter, nor was Phocion's, I feel
assured, obscure or ignoble.  For had he been the son of a turner,
as Idomeneus reports, it had certainly not been forgotten to his
disparagement by Glaucippus, the son of Hyperides, when heaping up
a thousand spiteful things to say against him.  Nor, indeed, had
it been possible for him, in such circumstances, to have had such
a liberal breeding and education in his youth, as to be first
Plato's, and afterwards Xenocrates's scholar in the Academy, and
to have devoted himself from the first to the pursuit of the
noblest studies and practices.  His countenance was so composed,
that scarcely was he ever seen by any Athenian either laughing, or
in tears.  He was rarely known, so Duris has recorded, to appear
in the public baths, or was observed with his hand exposed outside
his cloak, when he wore one.  Abroad, and in the camp, he was so
hardy in going always thin clad and barefoot, except in a time of
excessive and intolerable cold, that the soldiers used to say in
merriment, that it was like to be a hard winter when Phocion wore
his coat.

Although he was most gentle and humane in his disposition, his
aspect was stern and forbidding, so that he was seldom accosted
alone by any who were not intimate with him.  When Chares once
made some remark on his frowning looks, and the Athenians laughed
at the jest.  "My sullenness," said Phocion, "never yet made any
of you sad, but these men's jollities have given you sorrow
enough."  In like manner Phocion's language, also, was full of
instruction, abounding in happy maxims and wise thoughts, but
admitted no embellishment to its austere and commanding brevity.
Zeno said a philosopher should never speak till his words had been
steeped in meaning; and such, it may be said, were Phocion's,
crowding the greatest amount of significance into the smallest
allowance of space.  And to this, probably, Polyeuctus, the
Sphettian, referred, when he said that Demosthenes was, indeed,
the best orator of his time, but Phocion the most powerful
speaker.  His oratory, like small coin of great value, was to be
estimated, not by its bulk, but its intrinsic worth.  He was once
observed, it is said, when the theater was filling with the
audience, to walk musing alone behind the scenes, which one of his
friends taking notice of, said, "Phocion, you seem to be
thoughtful."  "Yes," replied he, "I am considering how I may
shorten what I am going to say to the Athenians."  Even
Demosthenes himself, who used to despise the rest of the
haranguers, when Phocion stood up, was wont to say quietly to
those about him, "Here is the pruning-knife of my periods."  This
however, might refer, perhaps, not so much to his eloquence, as to
the influence of his character, since not only a word, but even a
nod from a person who is esteemed, is of more force than a
thousand arguments or studied sentences from others.

In his youth he followed Chabrias, the general, from whom he
gained many lessons in military knowledge, and in return did
something to correct his unequal and capricious humor.  For
whereas at other times Chabrias was heavy and phlegmatic, in the
heat of battle he used to be so fired and transported, that he
threw himself headlong into danger beyond the forwardest, which,
indeed, in the end, cost him his life in the island of Chios, he
having pressed his own ship foremost to force a landing.  But
Phocion, being a man of temper as well as courage, had the
dexterity at some times to rouse the general, when in his
procrastinating mood, to action, and at others to moderate and
cool the impetuousness of his unseasonable fury.  Upon which
account Chabrias, who was a good-natured, kindly-tempered man,
loved him much, and procured him commands and opportunities for
action, giving him means to make himself known in Greece, and
using his assistance in all his affairs of moment.  Particularly
the sea-fight at Naxos added not a little to Phocion's reputation,
when he had the left squadron committed to him by Chabrias, as in
this quarter the battle was sharply contested, and was decided by
a speedy victory.  And this being the first prosperous sea-battle
the city had engaged in with its own force since its captivity,
Chabrias won great popularity by it, and Phocion, also, got the
reputation of a good commander.  The victory was gained at the
time of the Great Mysteries, and Chabrias used to keep the
commemoration of it, by distributing wine among the Athenians,
yearly, on the sixteenth day of Boedromion.

After this, Chabrias sent Phocion to demand their quota of the
charges of the war from the islanders, and offered him a guard of
twenty ships.  Phocion told him, if he intended him to go against
them as enemies, that force was insignificant; if as to friends
and allies, one vessel was sufficient.  So he took his own single
galley, and having visited the cities, and treated with the
magistrates in an equitable and open manner, he brought back a
number of ships, sent by the confederates to Athens, to convey the
supplies.  Neither did his friendship and attention close with
Chabrias's life, but after his decease he carefully maintained it
to all that were related to him, and chiefly to his son Ctesippus,
whom he labored to bring to some good, and although he was a
stupid and intractable young fellow, always endeavored, so far as
in him lay, to correct and cover his faults and follies.  Once,
however, when the youngster was very impertinent and troublesome
to him in the camp, interrupting him with idle questions, and
putting forward his opinions and suggestions of how the war should
be conducted, he could not forbear exclaiming, "O Chabrias,
Chabrias, how grateful I show myself for your friendship, in
submitting to endure your son."

Upon looking into public matters, and the way in which they were
now conducted, he observed that the administration of affairs was
cut and parceled out, like so much land by allotment, between the
military men and the public speakers, so that neither these nor
those should interfere with the claims of the others.  As the one
were to address the assemblies, to draw up votes and prepare
motions, men, for example, like Eubulus, Aristophon, Demosthenes,
Lycurgus, and Hyperides, and were to push their interests here;
so, in the meantime, Diopithes, Menestheus, Leosthenes, and
Chares, were to make their profit by war and in military commands.
Phocion, on the other hand, was desirous to restore and carry out
the old system, more complete in itself, and more harmonious and
uniform, which prevailed in the times of Pericles, Aristides, and
Solon; when statesmen showed themselves, to use Archilochus's
words, --

Mars' and the Muses' friends alike designed,
To arts and arms indifferently inclined,

and the presiding goddess of his country was, he did not fail to
see, the patroness and protectress of both civil and military
wisdom.  With these views, while his advice at home was always for
peace and quietness, he nevertheless held the office of general
more frequently than any of the statesmen, not only of his own
times, but of those preceding, never, indeed, promoting or
encouraging military expeditions, yet never, on the other hand,
shunning or declining, when he was called upon by the public
voice.  Thus much is well known, that he was no less than
forty-five several times chosen general, he being never on any one
of those occasions present at the election, but having the
command, in his absence, by common suffrage, conferred on him, and
he sent for on purpose to undertake it.  Insomuch that it amazed
those who did not well consider, to see the people always prefer
Phocion, who was so far from humoring them or courting their
favor, that he always thwarted and opposed them.  But so it was,
as great men and princes are said to call in their flatterers when
dinner has been served, so the Athenians, upon slight occasions,
entertained and diverted themselves with their spruce speakers and
trim orators, but when it came to action, they were sober and
considerate enough to single out the austerest and wisest for
public employment, however much he might be opposed to their
wishes and sentiments.  This, indeed, he made no scruple to admit,
when the oracle from Delphi was read, which informed them that the
Athenians were all of one mind, a single dissentient only
excepted, frankly coming forward and declaring that they need look
no further; he was the man, there was no one but he who was
dissatisfied with everything they did.  And when once he gave his
opinion to the people, and was met with the general approbation
and applause of the assembly, turning to some of his friends, he
asked them, "Have I inadvertently said something foolish?"

Upon occasion of a public festivity, being solicited for his
contribution by the example of others, and the people pressing him
much, he bade them apply themselves to the wealthy; for his part
he should blush to make a present here, rather than a repayment
there, turning and, pointing to Callicles, the money-lender.
Being still clamored upon and importuned, he told them this tale.
A certain cowardly fellow setting out for the wars, hearing the
ravens croak in his passage, threw down his arms, resolving to
wait.  Presently he took them and ventured out again, but hearing
the same music, once more made a stop.  "For," said he, "you may
croak till you are tired, but you shall make no dinner upon me."

The Athenians urging him at an unseasonable time to lead them out
against the enemy, he peremptorily refused, and being upbraided by
them with cowardice and pusillanimity, he told them, "Just now, do
what you will, I shall not be brave; and do what I will, you will
not be cowards.  Nevertheless, we know well enough what we are."
And when again, in a time of great danger, the people were very
harsh upon him, demanding a strict account how the public money
had been employed, and the like, he bade them, "First, good
friends, make sure you are safe."  After a war, during which they
had been very tractable and timorous, when, upon peace being made,
they began again to be confident and overbearing, and to cry out
upon Phocion, as having lost them the honor of victory, to all
their clamor he made only this answer, "My friends, you are
fortunate in having a leader who knows you; otherwise, you had
long since been undone."

Having a controversy with the Boeotians about boundaries, which he
counseled them to decide by negotiation, they inclined to blows.
"You had better," said he, "carry on the contest with the weapons
in which you excel, (your tongues,) and not by war, in which you
are inferior."  Once, when he was addressing them, and they would
not hear him or let him go on, said he, "You may compel me to act
against my wishes, but you shall never force me to speak against
my judgment."  Among the many public speakers who opposed him,
Demosthenes, for example, once told him, "The Athenians, Phocion,
will kill you some day when they once are in a rage."  "And you,"
said he, "if they once are in their senses."  Polyeuctus, the
Sphettian, once on a hot day was urging war with Philip, and being
a corpulent man, and out of breath and in a great heat with
speaking, took numerous draughts of water as he went on.  "Here,
indeed," said Phocion, "is a fit man to lead us into a war!  What
think you he will do when he is carrying his corslet and his
shield to meet the enemy, if even here, delivering a prepared
speech to you has almost killed him with exhaustion?"  When
Lycurgus in the assembly made many reflections on his past
conduct, upbraiding him above all for having advised them to
deliver up the ten citizens whom Alexander had demanded, he
replied that he had been the author of much safe and wholesome
counsel, which had not been followed.

There was a man called Archibiades, nicknamed the Lacedaemonian,
who used to go about with a huge overgrown beard, wearing an old
threadbare cloak, and affecting a very stern countenance.  Phocion
once, when attacked in council by the rest, appealed to this man
for his support and testimony.  And when he got up and began to
speak on the popular side, putting his hand to his beard, "O
Archibiades," said he, "it is time you should shave."
Aristogiton, a common accuser, was a terrible man of war within
the assembly, always inflaming the people to battle, but when the
muster-roll came to be produced, he appeared limping on a crutch,
with a bandage on his leg; Phocion descried him afar off, coming
in, and cried out to the clerk, "Put down Aristogiton, too, as
lame and worthless."

So that it is a little wonderful, how a man so severe and harsh
upon all occasions should, notwithstanding, obtain the name of the
Good.  Yet, though difficult, it is not, I suppose, impossible for
men's tempers, any more than for wines, to be at the same time
harsh and agreeable to the taste; just as on the other hand many
that are sweet at the first taste, are found, on further use,
extremely disagreeable and very unwholesome.  Hyperides, we are
told, once said to the people, "Do not ask yourselves, men of
Athens, whether or not I am bitter, but whether or not I am paid
for being so," as though a covetous purpose were the only thing
that should make a harsh temper insupportable, and as if men might
not even more justly render themselves obnoxious to popular
dislike and censure, by using their power and influence in the
indulgence of their own private passions of pride and jealousy,
anger and animosity.  Phocion never allowed himself from any
feeling of personal hostility to do hurt to any fellow-citizen,
nor, indeed, reputed any man his enemy, except so far as he could
not but contend sharply with such as opposed the measures he urged
for the public good; in which argument he was, indeed, a rude,
obstinate, and uncompromising adversary.  For his general
conversation, it was easy, courteous, and obliging to all, to that
point that he would befriend his very opponents in their distress,
and espouse the cause of those who differed most from him, when
they needed his patronage.  His friends reproaching him for
pleading in behalf of a man of indifferent character, he told them
the innocent had no need of an advocate.  Aristogiton, the
sycophant, whom we mentioned before, having after sentence passed
upon him, sent earnestly to Phocion to speak with him in the
prison, his friends dissuaded him from going; "Nay, by your
favor," said he, "where should I rather choose to pay Aristogiton
a visit?"

As for the allies of the Athenians, and the islanders, whenever
any admiral besides Phocion was sent, they treated him as an enemy
suspect, barricaded their gates, blocked up their havens, brought
in from the country their cattle, slaves, wives, and children, and
put them in garrison; but upon Phocion's arrival, they went out to
welcome him in their private boats and barges, with streamers
and garlands, and received him at landing with every demonstration
of joy and pleasure.

When king Philip was effecting his entry into Euboea, and was
bringing over troops from Macedonia, and making himself master of
the cities, by means of the tyrants who ruled in them, Plutarch of
Eretria sent to request aid of the Athenians for the relief of the
island, which was in imminent danger of falling wholly into the
hands of the Macedonians.  Phocion was sent thither with a handful
of men in comparison, in expectation that the Euboeans themselves
would flock in and join him.  But when he came, he found all
things in confusion, the country all betrayed, the whole ground,
as it were, undermined under his feet, by the secret pensioners of
king Philip, so that he was in the greatest risk imaginable.  To
secure himself as far as he could, he seized a small rising
ground, which was divided from the level plains about Tamynae by a
deep watercourse, and here he enclosed and fortified the choicest
of his army.  As for the idle talkers and disorderly bad citizens
who ran off from his camp and made their way back, he bade his
officers not regard them, since here they would have been not only
useless and ungovernable themselves, but an actual hindrance to
the rest; and further, being conscious to themselves of the
neglect of their duty, they would be less ready to misrepresent
the action, or raise a cry against them at their return home.
When the enemy drew nigh, he bade his men stand to their arms,
until he had finished the sacrifice, in which he spent a
considerable time, either by some difficulty of the thing itself,
or on purpose to invite the enemy nearer.  Plutarch, interpreting
this tardiness as a failure in his courage, fell on alone with the
mercenaries, which the cavalry perceiving, could not be contained,
but issuing also out of the camp, confusedly and in disorder,
spurred up to the enemy.  The first who came up were defeated, the
rest were put to the rout, Plutarch himself took to flight, and a
body of the enemy advanced in the hope of carrying the camp,
supposing themselves to have secured the victory.  But by this
time, the sacrifice being over, the Athenians within the camp came
forward, and falling upon them put them to flight, and killed the
greater number as they fled among the entrenchments, while
Phocion ordering his infantry to keep on the watch and rally those
who came in from the previous flight, himself, with a body of his
best men, engaged the enemy in a sharp and bloody fight, in which
all of them behaved with signal courage and gallantry.  Thallus,
the son of Cineas, and Glaucus, of Polymedes, who fought near the
general, gained the honors of the day.  Cleophanes, also, did good
service in the battle.  Recovering the cavalry from its defeat,
and with his shouts and encouragement bringing them up to succor
the general, who was in danger, he confirmed the victory obtained
by the infantry.  Phocion now expelled Plutarch from Eretria, and
possessed himself of the very important fort of Zaretra, situated
where the island is pinched in, as it were, by the seas on each
side, and its breadth most reduced to a narrow girth.  He released
all the Greeks whom he took out of fear of the public speakers at
Athens, thinking they might very likely persuade the people in
their anger into committing some act of cruelty.

This affair thus dispatched and settled, Phocion set sail
homewards, and the allies had soon as good reason to regret the
loss of his just and humane dealing, as the Athenians that of his
experience and courage.  Molossus, the commander who took his
place, had no better success than to fall alive into the enemy's
hands.  Philip, full of great thoughts and designs, now advanced
with all his forces into the Hellespont, to seize the Chersonesus
and Perinthus, and after them, Byzantium.  The Athenians raised a
force to relieve them, but the popular leaders made it their
business to prefer Chares to be general, who, sailing thither,
effected nothing worthy of the means placed in his hands.  The
cities were afraid, and would not receive his ships into their
harbors, so that he did nothing but wander about, raising money
from their friends, and despised by their enemies.  And when the
people, chafed by the orators, were extremely indignant, and
repented having ever sent any help to the Byzantines, Phocion rose
and told them they ought not to be angry with the allies for
distrusting, but with their generals for being distrusted.  "They
make you suspected," he said, "even by those who cannot possibly
subsist without your succor."  The assembly being moved with this
speech of his, changed their minds on the sudden, and commanded
him immediately to raise another force, and go himself to assist
their confederates in the Hellespont; an appointment which, in
effect, contributed more than anything to the relief of
Byzantium.

For Phocion's name was already honorably known; and an old
acquaintance of his, who had been his fellow-student in the
Academy, Leon, a man of high renown for virtue among the
Byzantines, having vouched for Phocion to the city, they opened
their gates to receive him, not permitting him, though he desired
it, to encamp without the walls, but entertained him and all the
Athenians with perfect reliance, while they, to requite their
confidence, behaved among their new hosts soberly and
inoffensively, and exerted themselves on all occasions with the
greatest zeal and resolution for their defense.  Thus king Philip
was driven out of the Hellespont, and was despised to boot, whom
till now, it had been thought impossible to match, or even to
oppose.  Phocion also took some of his ships, and recaptured some
of the places he had garrisoned, making besides several inroads
into the country, which he plundered and overran, until he
received a wound from some of the enemy who came to the defense,
and, thereupon, sailed away home.

The Megarians at this time privately praying aid of the Athenians,
Phocion, fearing lest the Boeotians should hear of it, and
anticipate them, called an assembly at sunrise, and brought
forward the petition of the Megarians, and immediately after the
vote had been put, and carried in their favor, he sounded the
trumpet, and led the Athenians straight from the assembly, to arm
and put themselves in posture.  The Megarians received them
joyfully, and he proceeded to fortify Nisea, and built two new
long walls from the city to the arsenal, and so joined it to the
sea, so that having now little reason to regard the enemies on the
land side, it placed its dependence entirely on the Athenians.

When final hostilities with Philip were now certain, and in
Phocion's absence other generals had been nominated, he on his
arrival from the islands, dealt earnestly with the Athenians, that
since Philip showed peaceable inclinations towards them, and
greatly apprehended the danger, they would consent to a treaty.
Being contradicted in this by one of the ordinary frequenters of
the courts of justice, a common accuser, who asked him if he durst
presume to persuade the Athenians to peace, now their arms were in
their hands, "Yes," said he, "though I know that if there be war,
I shall be in office over you, and if peace, you over me."  But
when he could not prevail, and Demosthenes's opinion carried it,
advising them to make war as far off from home as possible, and
fight the battle out of Attica, "Good friend," said Phocion, "let
us not ask where we shall fight, but how we may conquer in the
war.  That will be the way to keep it at a distance.  If we are
beaten, it will be quickly at our doors."  After the defeat, when
the clamorers and incendiaries in the town would have brought up
Charidemus to the hustings, to be nominated to the command, the
best of the citizens were in a panic, and supporting themselves
with the aid of the council of the Areopagus, with entreaties and
tears hardly prevailed upon the people to have Phocion entrusted
with the care of the city.  He was of opinion, in general, that
the fair terms to be expected from Philip should be accepted, yet
after Demades had made a motion that the city should receive the
common conditions of peace in concurrence with the rest of the
states of Greece, he opposed it, till it were known what the
particulars were which Philip demanded.  He was overborne in this
advice, under the pressure of the time, but almost immediately
after, the Athenians repented it, when they understood that by
these articles, they were obliged to furnish Philip both with
horse and shipping.  "It was the fear of this," said Phocion,
"that occasioned my opposition.  But since the thing is done, let
us make the best of it, and not be discouraged.  Our forefathers
were sometimes in command, and sometimes under it; and by doing
their duty, whether as rulers or as subjects, saved their own
country and the rest of Greece."

Upon the news of Philip's death, he opposed himself to any public
demonstrations of joy and jubilee, saying it would be ignoble to
show malice upon such an occasion, and that the army that had
fought them at Chaeronea, was only diminished by a single man.

When Demosthenes made his invectives against Alexander, now on his
way to attack Thebes, he repeated those verses of Homer, --

"Unwise one, wherefore to a second stroke
His anger be foolhardy to provoke?"

and asked, "Why stimulate his already eager passion for glory?
Why take pains to expose the city to the terrible conflagration
now so near?  We, who accepted office to save our fellow-citizens,
will not, however they desire it, be consenting to their
destruction."

After Thebes was lost, and Alexander had demanded Demosthenes,
Lycurgus, Hyperides, and Charidemus to be delivered up, the whole
assembly turning their eyes to him, and calling on him by name to
deliver his opinion, at last he rose up, and showing them one of
his most intimate friends, whom he loved and confided in above all