AN HISTORICAL COMPARISON. 313 To examine thoroughly the peculiar nature of a great man, it is much rather incumbent upon us to consider him for himself alone, in his connection with what is around him, in his own sphere and age; to confine our view to him, nor allow it to be diverted, at least for the time, by any secondary object. It is all well and good, if we wish to admire upon the whole, but if we desire to appreciate accurately the intrinsic merit or demerit of a hero, it is then very advantageous to throw also into the other scale of the balance some mighty counterpoise. In that case we must not attempt to couple together the productions of different ages. Thus we should never compare the heroes of ancient with those of modern history, since we only incur the danger of losing sight of the essential, if we snap at a vain shadow of resemblance. On deeper investigation, we are sure to light upon original differences, which render all comparison impossible; for the laws, limits, relations, of ancient and modern civilization, so widely diverge, that we may regard ancient and modern history as two independent worlds, even should they lock into each other. Real merit is everywhere the same, but the standard for estimating it in the ancients and moderns is yet entirely different. Not so with the comparisons between the Greeks and Romans; these are citizens of one and the same world, and the comparison of individuals from among them places in a clearer light the general character of these two ancient nations, whom a common and entire civilization divided so unequally. Hence, also, many of Plutarch's parallels are so fortunate and instructively amusing. Cæsar and Alexander, a mighty pair; the two mightiest and at the same time worthiest rulers in all antiquity! Both accomplished so much, such an immensity, that we should have to write books upon them, if we wished to portray only what was most remarkable. The proper records for Cæsar's history belong in themselves to the most accomplished writings of antiquity; here is pure unadulterated gold, and we have not here to part it first from the dross. On the other hand, the principal sources for the history of Alexander flow so turbid, the traces nearly obliterated at the side are so scattered, and often so imperceptible, that the acumen of the investigator is by this very circumstance excited. If we would not here simply repeat what has been already so often said, we must either be discursive in the extreme, or very concise. I have preferred brevity, and shall only observe the most important features. I shall give only a judgment with examples, not a history. "Cæsar," said Cato, "has alone amongst all plotted to overthrow the state with sober deliberation." Cato was perhaps the only one of his time who saw through the grand enemy with the same sober reflection. Even as a youth Cæsar had this clear-headed penetration, nor was he to be dazzled by the most glittering appearance. He happened to be in Asia when he heard of Sylla's death, and he hastened back with all speed to Rome, building his hopes on the new schism created by Lepidus. Although enticed by great conditions, he nevertheless formed no connection with Lepidus, partly because he did not trust to the skill of that person, partly because he did not find the occasion so favourable as he had expected. During the maturity of his manhood he had learned to wait cautiously both for the opportunity and the moment, then to seize it rapidly and resolved, to use it also completely, and in this he was unmatched. He fought his battles not merely after a plan, but also when quite unprepared, whenever a favourable opportunity suddenly presented itself, often in spite of fatigue and weather, for the purpose of taking his enemy more unawares. doubtful whether he was bolder or more prudent. fitting moment he dared what was most desperate, but he never prodigally wasted his valour. He reserved it for those cases where his men required such excitement, and he would send away the horses, his own first, to deprive even himself of the means of flight. Then his example, more. effective from its very rarity, and especially the equality of danger, did wonders. The most appalling danger never robbed him of his presence of mind, unexampled constant success never made him heedless and over-confident in war.. On the contrary, he gained his most brilliant victories precisely when all believed him inevitably lost; the oftener he conquered, the more reserved he was on coming to an action. In short, not a single instance will be found of his having neglected the right moment, or only partially profited by it, or of being found unprepared and irresolute when that moment arrived. This was so natural to him, that the contrary It is At the AN HISTORICAL COMPARISON. 315 in others seemed strange to him. When he was worsted at Dyrrhachium and not pursued, he said, "Pompey knows not how to conquer." He never beat the enemy without at the same time storming his camp; he never gave those that had lost heart time to rally. It is very remarkable, how candidly he often recognizes the wondrous effect of the moment, the wilfulness of fickle fortune. This modesty has a peculiar charm in the mouth of a hero who relates everything in which he was successful, by great exertion or by any deep stratagem, with such evident delight, and with the expression of joyous cheerfulness. He had accomplished so much by his own understanding and force alone, that he had no need to begrudge her share to Fortune, who, by the favour she showed him, confirmed an old Roman adage.* Considering the then universal debauchery of the Roman nobles, and Cæsar's sensuality in other respects, it is not unimportant that he even, in the literal sense, was SO abstemious and sober; his very enemies could not deny that he was excessively moderate in the use of wine. It is also more important, that he himself laid a certain value on this abstemiousness, which in itself is nothing peculiarly rare, for in his invective against Cato he inveighs against him for having, among other things, got drunk from the Socratic goblet after the old Catonic fashion.t I should not like to assert that he, as perhaps Augustus did, feared lest he should grow too open-hearted and communicative. This species of dissimulation was alien to him; he knew quite as little of fear as of shame. He is in this respect without parallel; a despotic conqueror, who was frank and devoid of all distrustful apprehension. When conspiracies and nocturnal meetings were discovered, he struck no blow beyond showing, by an edict, that they were known to him. So void of apprehension, so heedless was his life, that after his death there were many who could believe he had intentionally not avoided the daggers of conspirators, from over satiety of life; he was hence not keen-sighted through fear. When perpetual dictator of the Roman republic, the deified companion of the god Quirinus, in the midst of his triumphs, he never lost the * Fortes fortuna juvat. † Narratur et prisci Catonis Sæpe mero caluisse virtus. power of judging men with his wonted perspicacity. "Shall I be so foolish," he said, "to doubt still how deeply I am hated, when Marcus Cicero has to wait so long in the antechamber till I am at leisure to speak with him? It is true, that if any one is little sensitive, he is that one, and yet I doubt not that he hates me from the bottom of his heart." After Brutus had declaimed with great fire and freedom for Deiotarus, he said, "Much depends on what this Brutus wants; but whatever he wants, he is earnest in his want." What is related about his foreboding concerning the prophetic leanness of Cassius is well known. Still more does the mode of his death evince an almost unexampled presence of mind. "This is force," he exclaimed, when he was first seized, and "Cursed Casca, what art thou at?" and then rapidly wounded Cassius. As soon, however, as he saw the drawn daggers pointed at him from all sides, he veiled his head with the toga, drawing down the garment at the same instant with his left hand, that he might fall with decorum. The chaste modesty of a dying Polyxena must not be attributed to the grey-haired imperator, for nothing was less akin to him than such superfluous sensations. It had become a second nature with him not to be inactive for a single instant; as soon, therefore, as defence was useless, he devoted the little time and strength still left him for external decency, for which too during his whole life he had always displayed an almost excessive care. This he did not from any desire to please or any peculiar love for the beautiful, but because he loved, whether in the greatest or smallest things, the most exact propriety for its own sake alone, hating everything clumsy and deformed. Even when imperator he wrote a grammatical work, that was prized and quoted long after his death; for as he had much to write and to speak, it was impossible for him also here as in other things to stop short of perfection. For this reason he could not endure the pernicious confusion of times and seasons, and so regulated the calendar. His own bald head, so much derided, was for the same reason odious to himself also, and no honour did he seize with greater avidity, than the privilege of always wearing a laurel crown. It was the perfect harmony of his powerful understanding, and of his equally great vigorous activity, from which that AN HISTORICAL COMPARISON. 317 sobriety and abstemiousness arose, giving him so decided a superiority over his antagonists. Cato alone resembled him in this; but then be was as an enemy no match for him, because he could only use lawful means. This sobriety is properly the characteristic quality of Cæsar, distinguishing him greatly from Alexander, who, though he at first loved wine as a zest to jovial society, soon did so to extravagant excess for its own sake, who was seldom sober, and even then rash and furious as a drunken man. The Greek conqueror was wont to cut, not untie, all knots as he did the Gordian, and often would force and brave what was impossible in wild opposition to fortune. That question is hence answered, spontaneously indeed, which old authors have often started, which of the two would have been the victor, the sober or the drunken hero, if they had fought with equal means against each other for supremacy. There is no doubt that Cæsar had also passions besides those, which carried him to his goal; ignoble passions, which might have easily turned aside or totally confused his grand and simple career. He had the talent, however, of subduing them, for during his manhood all his powers really obeyed rapidly and infallibly his imperatorial understanding. In his youth he could burst into a tempest of rage. He defended a client against King Hiempsal so zealously as to seize, in the heat of the debate, Juba, the king's son, by the beard, for which the latter, during the civil war, as one of the warmest and mightiest of Pompey's partisans, gave him a great deal of trouble. His youthful adventure with the pirates throws strong light on his strong natural proneness to revenge. On his passage to Rhodes, where he intended devoting his leisure to Apollonius, the most celebrated teacher of rhetoric in that age, he was captured by them and compelled, to his great vexation, to pass forty days with them, attended only by a physician and two servants, for his other attendants and slaves he had immediately despatched as soon as he was taken, to fetch money for his ransom. When the money was paid, and he was set on shore, he contrived, notwithstanding he at that time had no official rank and power, to collect a fleet on the following night, sailed to the spot where the pirates were, put to flight a part of their fleet, took some ships, and made a great many of the crew prisoners, whereupon he returned to his friends rejoicing at the noc |