could disarm even the envious and malignant, and forgive that which it is most trying to submit to-ridicule, is clearly shown in his conduct to Catullus, who, having lampooned him in the most sarcastic manner, was invited to supper by Cæsar, and treated so generously, that he converted the satirical poet into a firm and enduring friend. That, alas! availing himself of the immunity afforded to vice in an exceedingly licentious age, he deemed it no derogation of character, no prostitution of some of the very highest endowments of man, to expend a princely patrimony in riotous living, and to employ his almost godlike talents to subvert and betray those, but too easily dazzled and seduced by such apparent superiority of intellect and munificence of behaviour, is also but too evident, from the details handed down of his triumphs and successes in libertinism. Yet, had he considered his conduct as criminal, as it appears to us, he would doubtless have been as eager to reform as we are to censure; for the really exalted mind revolts at the meanness of guilt, and recoils at the ignobleness of turpitude; and the idea of baseness is as abhorrent to, as it is incompatible with, a true love of the heroic and daring. He, who could sigh at beholding a statue of Alexander, and reproach himself with having accomplished nought grand and glorious at an age at which the Macedonian hero had subdued the greater part of the world-he, who could console himself for the loss of the fine estates which he had lavished amongst his friends, with the thought that Hope yet remained to him-he, who could never yield to inactivity whilst any important state affair demanded his attention, was not likely to forget himself by culpable indulgence or gross profligacy. No-all that can be laid to his serious charge on that score appears to be the fashionable errors of a gallantry which rather seemed to lend an éclat to valour than to dim its lustre, and which was tolerated amongst his class as the most venial of all trespasses; even so by the more strict and ascetic stoics themselves, as is observable from the unmoved manner in which Cato bore the discovery of his own sister Servilia's correspondence with Cæsar, absolutely sending a love-letter to him to the forum while Cato was engaged there in speaking of the Cataline conspiracy; and who, suspecting that it might be from one of the party concerned in it, conveying some secret information, insisted on its being read aloud by Cæsar, who, however, instead of complying with this absurd request, placed the letter, with a quiet smile, in Cato's hand, who, at a glance, perceiving who it was really from, returned it, pettishly exclaiming, "There, sot!" and instantly resumed his discourse. This certainly appears an almost unparalleled mark of indifference and want of delicacy. Where was the outburst of fraternal indignation, naturally to be expected, at this utter violation of the duties of a sister, a wife, and a mother? No allusion is even made to Cato's mortified pride-Cato's anger and distress. As soon as he was satisfied that the letter in question did not militate against the state, he was content to submit to the infamous knowledge of a sister's shame and degradation; and even make a friend and colleague of the man who had wrought this disgrace. It is always necessary for the writer of the most simple sketch touching on veritable history never to lose sight of the peculiarities and pri vileges of the period of which he treats, or he might startle the island from its propriety with a vengeance, by that which he depicts of a less civilised and moral people than we happily can boast ourselves to be; and seem, as it were, to offer a palliation for the excesses which he should and must condemn. CHAPTER II. Alas! how light a cause may move And sorrow but more closely tied; That stood the storm, when waves were rough, Yet in a sunny hour fall off, Like ships that have gone down at sea, MOORE'S "Lalla Rookh." It was on his return from Utica, after having terminated a war of great importance, and attended with extreme difficulty, in little more than five months, that the senate resolved to testify their gratitude to Cæsar, by a succession of triumphs and honours more magnificent and costly than had ever before been awarded to any mortal, even in the splendid and pompous city of Rome. It was decreed that there should be feasts and rejoicings for forty successive days to celebrate his late victory; that when he triumphed his chariot should be drawn by four white horses, as those of Jupiter and of the Sun; and that, besides the ordinary number of lictors belonging to his offices, he should be preceded by all those of his former dictatorships. He was created dictator for ten years, and inspector of morals for three; his statue was placed in the capitol, opposite to that of Jupiter, with the globe of the earth under his feet, and with this inscription" To Cæsar, the demigod." But all these public demonstrations of approval and admiration did not satisfy the heart of the conqueror; did not fill the aching void of his soul; did not soothe to peace the restlessness of despair and anxiety, which disturbed its tranquillity, in the very midst of popular exultation. The idol of the people yet felt one sickening vacuum, one imperative desire, one yearning wish-one feverish pulse throbbed frequently and fearfully; and the veins of the laurel-wreathed brow grew large and swollen beneath the proud emblem of victory placed on it, by the potent will of a devoted and transported nation. Love distracted the mind of the hero, and rendered distasteful the empty pageant, which yet seemed worthy to crown the highest human ambition-the extremest of human supremacy. What to him, at that moment, was the unanimous acclamations of that vast and excited multitude, when the one soft voice which was alone welcome to his ear was mute in the silence of disdain? What to him was the approbation of those countless eyes which followed his every movement, and, as they followed, adored and reverenced, when the sweet orbs for which he only existed turned resentfully from his, seeking the base earth to receive their precious tears, rather than shed them on the fond 'bosom, fainting with anguish, for the scorn and sorrow he was forbidden either to appease or mitigate? Servilia and Cæsar had quarrelled. Servilia. the most dear to his memory, the most present to his thoughtServilia, for whom he had violated the innocent trust of a virtuous wife, and impoverished the fortune of his successors-Servilia, for whom it was no sacrifice to forget all, to give up all. She had heard a vague report of his being subdued by the supplications of the fair young wife of one of the revolting citizens, and rewarding her entreaties by granting a free pardon to her husband; and too guilty herself to conceive that such clemency arose from aught save a criminal admiration of the interesting supplicant, she became jealous and indignant, and nourished the unfounded anger of her heart yet more by recalling to mind the real proofs of fickleness and infidelity of which she could accuse him. She knew but too well the inconstancy of his nature, and the latitude he allowed himself on all occasions when his taste was captivated or his imagination inflamed; and she also knew, alas, from her own oft-times secretly and deeply deplored deviation from rectitude, how irresistible was the homage of him whom all homaged; how elating the idea of having the mighty victor of fifty battles an humble suitor for one chary smile, one gentle word. She thought of his early love for Fulvia, his passion for Cleopatra, his more shameless intrigue with Mucia, and she felt mortified and disparaged that charms so surpassing, so matchless as hers were universally acknowledged to be, should be employed to fan the chilled and expiring embers of a worn and blasé heart. She considered herself outraged that Cæsar should, under any temptation, have forgotten his sworn allegiance to her, and surrender himself to the passing attractions of another; and she avoided, with the most pertinacious obstinacy, all explanation, all justification, and turned with sickening disgust from the reconciliation proffered so earnestly and so humbly; rejoiced to find that her implacability could mar the brightest hour of his triumphant prosperity, and cast a shadow over the refulgence of his noon of glory. Were it not for these futile paroxysms of maddening jealousy, these torturing recurrences of doubt and mistrust, the career of the vicious would gilde on too smoothly, too serenely, to afford encouragement to the virtuous struggler on the tempestuous ocean of adversity, or furnish a moral to the uprightness which yet remains faithful to the duties to which it is pledged. But, like an incurable canker, these eat into the depraved heart, and rankle and fester there, to the destruction of peace here, or hope of peace hereafter. Cæsar, a prey, too, to the most harassing disquietude, the most painful suspense, felt that he must be instantly reconciled to the imperious woman who so ungenerously, so tyrannically used her influence over him, or be, despite of grandeur, glory, pomp, and fame, utterly and irretrievably wretched. He felt that he must have one day, one whole day of exculpation and forgiveness with her-must give himself up uninterruptedly and unrestrainedly for twelve blissful hours to the enchantment of her witching thraldom, and be led captive in his turn. So, at the termination of the tedious and wearisome ceremonies, so brilliant, so gratifying to every individual who shared them, save him for whom they were expressly intended to delight, he resolved, as a means of obtaining the wished-for interview with Servilia, to dedicate his long-projected temple to Venus Pandemos, making Servilia to understand that she was in reality the goddess whom he thus immortalised. Pleased with the flattering compliment, and won by his humility, she consented to accept the invitation which he had sent, to grace with her presence the august scene, and by so doing secure to him a far greater triumph than any one of those just celebrated to his honour." After her customary bath of asses' milk, and a copious application of the cosmetics at that time in such esteem, she repaired thither, accompanied by her favourite attendants, and looking quite as lovely as the ardent and impatient Cæsar had depicted her in his really lavishly embellishing imagination. Nay, animated by gratified vanity at this openly avowed oblation to her beauty, and glad of the opportunity thus, as it were, forced upon her by an almost imperial command to be friends once more with him whom she was beginning to sincerely regret having distressed, and, perhaps, somewhat estranged by her severity, without compromising her self-love by appearing to seek a reconciliation; her cheek wore a more vivid hue, her eye a more refulgent lustre, and her lip a more radiant smile than they were wont, even with one who was all artifice and dissimulation; and, determined to regain every atom of her old and dangerous empire over his too credulous and enamoured heart, she heightened all her personal charms by the most gentle and subdued demeanour, which to him, who had expected only either sullenness or indignation, was as surprising as it was delightful. Reclining in the porch of the temple upon the sumptuous cushions so indispensable to Roman ease and luxury, and literally overshadowed by the profusion of rare exotics forming the temporary bowers, beneath which an elegant repast was arranged, and which, besides lending a grateful coolness to the fervid heat of a cloudless summer's day, also displayed that true patrician recklessness of expense which distinguished all the festivals of Rome,-Servilia, eager to listen to the honeyed justification which was to convince her that she still reigned paramount over the victorious, the redoubtable, the enslaved Cæsar, soon dismissed the fair dancing-girls of Egypt, the tender minstrels of Iberia, who had been exerting their graceful talents for her amusement and pleasure. He, as he poured out the strong emotion of his impassioned soul, watched with intense interest and anxiety every variation of the changeful countenance on which his gaze was immovably fixed, to read, by its expression, the fluctuations of the heart he was so desirous to completely tranquillise and charm. He marked the gradual dispersion of the mists of doubt yet obscuring the dawn of reawakening affection; and he awaited, with the utmost solicitude, until that beautiful face wore an aspect of perfect and entire serenity; then, when he saw that Servilia's confidence in his protestations was quite restored, as a recompense for her gracious forgiveness he drew from out the ample folds of his robe a small curiously carved golden casket, and calling her immediate attention to the action, opened it carefully, and revealed to her dazzled and delighted eyes a pearl for which he had paid the enormous sum of fifty thousand pounds, and which, without a moment's hesitation,* he placed on her beautiful bosom. * Suetonius. Alas, for the frailty of woman! that dumb jewel had more weight in advocating his cause than all the flow of his most pleading eloquence; and kissing the noble brow, whose partial baldness he had so gloriously covered with laurels, she protested that no latent suspicions should ever again mar the felicity which she confessed she alone derived from his generous and devoted attachment, the continuance of which would ensure her happiness for ever. Little did he think, as he laid his unsuspecting head in the lap of loveliness, and resigned himself to the dreamy rapture of that intoxicating hour, that the fair creature then bending over him so tenderly and so timidly, would, in the space of a few short years, lend an unappalled ear to the suggestions of his assassins, aid their plans for his murder, and, from the very spot with which his prodigal infatuation had so richly endowed her, calmly see the base conspirators issue forth to strike that astounding blow that filled all Rome with amazement and horror! Little did he think, whilst listening to her* siren voice, whilst receiving her false and flattering caresses, that the idolised bosom which he had just adorned would, at no distant period, actually foster the serpent to strength and vigour whose envenomed sting was to wound him unto death!-little did he think, as he bowed his neck to the yoke of the enchaining arms now encircling him, that, ere long, the arm of her very son would be stretched forth, in all the fury of blind enthusiasm, to smite the proud victor, the supposed tyrant to the earth!-little did he think, whilst gazing in those soft, earnest eyes, that, almost before the brightness of their gleam had departed from his soul, his own would be darkened by the mantle which he should draw over them in the hurry of terrified despair, to shut out the awful sight of the incensed-the beloved-the ungrateful Brutus, whose upraised sword was about to pierce his benefactor-his saviour-as if, in beholding such unheard-of treachery, he haa indeed seen enough of such a faithless world as this! But it is so throughout with the profligate and sinful, and in the case of Cæsar was no exception made; for, in the closing hour of his brief and brilliant existence, he felt, in all the poignancy of the bitterest self-accusation and remorse, that "the gods are just, and of our pleasant vices make instruments to scourge us." As is clearly shown in his passive non-resistance to the attack of the youth who, in thus imagining to serve his country, did, in fact, avenge a mother's dishonour. Cicero reckons it among the solecisms of the time that the mother of the tyrant-killer should hold the estate of one of her son's accomplices (the lands and villa of Pontius Aquila, one of the conspirators, bestowed on her by Julius Cæsar), and her having such a share in all the counsels of Brutus, made Cicero the less inclined to enter into them, or to be concerned with one whom he could not trust. "When he is influenced so much," he says, "by his mother's advice, or, at least, her entreaties, why should I interpose myself ?"-HOOKE. |