less flattered by the prospects of power than by those of renown; prizing the former only as a means of extending his reputation. Of fame, indeed, he was the more ambitious, because he knew that this it was which must consign his public career to the care of posterity, at once the test and the shield of merit; disrobing those whom it immortalizes of the false and gaudy trappings of contemporaries, to be exchanged for the impartial estimation of future ages. No one ever felt more keenly a sense of that profound emotion which troubled the repose of young Themistocles, on viewing the trophies of the conqueror of the Persians, Miltiades. When Cæsar beheld the statue of Alexander in the temple of Hercules at Cadiz, he exclaimed, "Alas! at my age he had subdued the world, and I have done nothing memorable!" Such a comparison might have led others to despair: but Cæsar seemed to look forwards unawed, and to contemplate with a calm eye the great distance which still separated him from the conqueror of Darius. If, indeed, he signalized himself by fewer remarkable actions in his early years, he soon equalled the son of Philip in genius, in courage, in a mind fertile of resources, and even surpassing him in knowlege of the military art, and in skilful and extended combinations: besides possessing those engaging qualities that seize on the imagination, and extort even from our vanity the tribute of applause. The vices of the Macedonian seemed to strengthen with his years, while the youthful follies of the Roman gave way to great and estimable qualities: "perhaps," says La Bruyere, "because Alexander was merely a hero, and Cæsar was really a great man."

Sylla alone seemed to suspect how far the enterprizing spirit, which proposed Alexander instead of Scipio for a model, might be led to carry its pretensions; and he penetrated that audacity of character, which, rejoicing to cope with difficulties, imagines that nothing is impossible. Of this, indeed, Cæsar is a striking example; proving to us that means for the attainment of every thing may be acquired by strong excitement of the will; and that want of success, in the greatest enterprizes, is to be attributed less to deficiency of power and means than to weakness of resolution.' (Vol.i. p. 15.)

Though we agree with the author in the general correctness of the last observation, we cannot accompany him in the whole extent of his position, and grant an irresistible power and ascendancy to the human will. What would the strong mental energies and resources of Cæsar have availed him, had he been destitute of external aids and advantages, in a fortunate period and under prosperous occurrences, with such a theatre as the Roman state in which to play his part? His strength of motive and resolute soul, fostered by all its patrician and national pride, might then have encountered obstacles too vast to be surmounted. That Rome herself, whose patriotic genius and national confidence carried her to

such

such an unprecedented height of dominion, and that the illustrious men of all professions and ages, owe much of their reputation to the times and circumstances in which they lived, is a truth that cannot reasonably be disputed. As the most favorable situations avail nothing to characters which are deficient in genius and judgment to profit by them, so it would appear that even the greatest minds can achieve nothing considerable without a fortunate concurrence of causes to promote their views. A combination of fortunate events and of singular abilities must arise, then, in addition to the strongest excitement of the will, to insure complete success; and, from a number of causes, the chances in favor of the most gifted minds united to the most perfect resolution are very inconsiderable, when opposed to those which are fatal to successful results.

That Cæsar was one of the first and most fortunate of individuals, and Rome the most powerful and prosperous of nations, must be attributed not less to the signal favors of that capricious goddess to whom Roman temples were dedicated, than to their own inherent strength of intellect and will. How few of the surrounding nations, which evinced the same patriotic energies and devotion, as the ruins of their capitals testify, speak in the annals of history in support of the supreme ascendancy of the human will; in ambition and resolution equal to Cæsar, and pursuing the or how very few individuals, ablest plans and combinations, have triumphed over their foes and over their country, and filled the world with their renown?

Rome and her Cæsar, then, instead of being set up as patterns of patient industry, courage, and determination, as M. TOULOTTE would maintain, should be considered as anomalies in the history of nations and of mankind; and as examples of an union of rare good fortune, energy, and aspiring confidence, which together crowned their enterprizes with success.

The pride which gloried in individual poverty, but in national splendor and renown, and which carried Rome to so high a pitch of moral greatness during the days of her Fabricii and Cincinnati, had doubtless its source in the same national confidence and high-minded devotion. qualities and circumstances, with the help of fortune, achieved All these what are considered and possibly under other circumstances would really be-impossible things; and when this enthusiastic devotion to the cause ceased to operate, the glory of the republic began to wane. A wretched egotism then usurped the place of national regard, preparing the way for the Emperors; who came borne "on the flood of fortune," and of luxury

and

and depravity of manners: which, infecting the whole frame of society, laid the foundation of the future tyrannies and atrocities of ages.

Having differed thus far, we feel the more pleasure in agreeing with M. TOULOTTE that, had Rome continued to preserve at the close of the republic a portion of the sterner virtues which once distinguished her, neither the power of Julius nor the cunning policy of Octavius, nor the madness and iniquities of her Neros and Domitians, would so easily have succeeded in trampling on her rights and liberties. Dreaded and invincible by her foes, she thus became a victim to the pride and rapacity of her own commanders and fellowcitizens, to the designs of the wealthiest and most powerful. Cæsar, however, unlike his ferocious predecessors, Marius and Sylla, scorned to purchase his elevation by the more common expedient of terror, which had not only paralyzed the laws, but destroyed the sources of moral restraint and virtuous actions among the people.

-

The author, as he proceeds, does full justice to the allpiercing intellect and grasping views of Cæsar. Cautious of committing himself with any party, he was active in availing himself of the errors of all. He fomented the unseasonable severity of Cato, the vanity that led to the fatal expedition of Crassus, the weaknesses of Cicero, and the indolent confidence of Pompey reposing on his laurels. These were so many steps which facilitated Cæsar's progress to undisputed power. In the discharge of his first popular offices, we find him followed by the voice and suffrages of the plebeians; in his prætorship and consulate, his train consisted of knights and senators; while the strangers at Rome, whom he had gratified by obtaining for them the title of allies and friends of the Roman people, were loud in his applause. Before he departed on his memorable expeditions, which are so ably and classically related by himself, against the Gauls and Britons, he had already acquired great influence and popularity among his countrymen. His important and arduous conquest of the Gauls being at last achieved, he was the first who conducted the Romans into Britain; where he subdued many of the southern counties, and collected materials for the observations which we find in his "Commentaries." Returning to Rome between each campaign, he strengthened his interests by participating his honors with those whom he judged it his policy to retain; until the formidable influence which he acquired began to awaken the senate to a sense of their danger, and his rival beheld him ready to throw off the mask. Suspicions soon gave rise to recriminations; - Pompey

recalled

recalled two of his legions;-and the Senate hastened the crisis by commanding both to dismiss their troops, an order which their mutual jealousy permitted neither of them to obey.

In fact,' observes the writer, the luxury of courts had introduced itself into the camp; and the usual stipends were no longer considered by the legions as equal to their new wants. We are scarcely surprized, therefore, that they did not scruple to sacrifice the interests of their country to those of a leader, whose remunerations often anticipated the wishes of his troops. The period was now arrived when Rome, triumphant over the most warlike nations of the world, and led on by heroes hitherto invincible, was unable to withstand the inroads of private ambition, which more or less avowedly aspired to supreme power.'

Cæsar's policy led him to march his army into Italy, before Pompey was prepared to defend the senate; and such were the bravery and the attachment of his troops, that we feel no surprize at the result proving to be such as he himself anticipated. That he could afford to lose the battle of Dyrrachium, and still oppose himself successfully to Pompey, proves at once his superiority to the latter, and his title to rank with the very first commanders, by rising above the difficulties which he had to encounter. The conduct of Pompey, on the other hand, forms a striking contrast on the day of that important battle, when he seemed to have less influence over the army than the heroic Cato. When that leader harangued his soldiers, his eloquence seemed to make no impression: but, when Cato rose, and addressed the troops vehemently on the character of the patriot-soldier, and on his contempt of death, the most animated and generous expressions suddenly burst forth, at the name of liberty and love of country: the legions unanimously cried out to be led against Cæsar; and the philosophy of Cato may be said, that day, to have obtained the victory.' Had Pompey sufficiently profited by this battle, the war might have been terminated by its effects: but Cæsar himself remarked "that his rival did not know how to conquer," since he left his routed enemies unpursued; an error which Cæsar took care not to copy on the fatal plains of Pharsalia. Thenceforwards,' says M. TOULOTTE, a fresh career opened to his view; and, impelled by the genius of Cæsar, Rome advanced with gigantic steps towards universal dominion and servitude.'

The generosity displayed by Cæsar after victory, his subsequent exploits, the wisdom and moderation of his government, and the unwise, ungrateful, and fatal conspiracy against

him, are faithfully and eloquently pourtrayed in the present work. We beg leave, however, to differ with the author in his view of the conspirators; whom, in some points, he seems to countenance, though in another part he designates them by the name of murderers.'

In a comparison of the character of Cæsar with that of Cato,

"Et cuncta terrarum subacta,

Præter atrocem animum Catonis," (HOR.) –

the only one truly great enough to be put in competition with him, the author makes some excellent observations, which we wish that we had space enough to transcribe. Remarking on the indignation of the Romans at the assassination of the great Julius, in the heat of which they murdered a very inoffensive fellow-citizen, Helvius Cinna, mistaking him for the conspirator Cinna, M. TOULOTTE takes occasion to bring a very disputable charge against the character of Augustus Cæsar,

This was a misfortune, no doubt; but, like all similar excesses in a large body of the people, it had its origin in true sensibility and right feeling. We cannot, however, ascribe the action of Augustus to the same source, when, on the anniversary of Cæsar's fall, he caused three hundred senators of Perusium to be slaughtered on an altar erected in honor of the hero; though they had yielded themselves prisoners on the capture of their city, under the security of laws both human and divine, to a prince whom no sense of honor withheld from becoming their executioner, for the purpose of convincing the Romans that his policy knew no bounds, and no distinction of rank and numbers, when he thought that his security demanded the blood of victims.' (P. 124.)

Indeed, the author's representation of the character and actions of Octavius is throughout too evidently the result of a somewhat prejudiced feeling; which betrays, at every touch, a strong dislike to the portrait that is on the canvass ; which places it in an unfavorable light; and which creates a sensation of mingled hatred and disgust, of which we have never before been so sensible from perusing the accounts of other historians,

[To be continued.]

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