ecasting of the whole provincial
administration; a codification of Roman law; a census of the Empire; a
uniform gold coinage; a public library; a metropolitan police;
building regulations; sanitary regulations; an alteration of the
course of the Tiber, which would have drained the marshes--all these
grand projects, and more, some carried to completion, some only
sketched out, teemed from the active brain of the great organizer, in
the brief moments he could spare from military cares in these last
months of his life--a devouring activity, an all-embracing capacity,
such as perhaps never shone forth in man before or since. What Roman
incorporation meant for the ancient world was at last revealed. The
war havoc of seven centuries had found its justification.

[Illustration: The Ides of March.]

In the midst of this glorious and beneficent career, at the age of
fifty-five (57?), Caesar, whose frank and fearless spirit disdained
suspicion or precaution, was assassinated by a knot of rancorous,
perfidious aristocrats, whom he had pardoned and promoted. Their
purblind spite was powerless to avert the inevitable advent of
monocracy. What they did effectually extinguish for more than a
century, was the possibility of amnesty, conciliation, and mutual
confidence. Careless as usual of historical truth, the great English
poet has glorified the murderers of Caesar. Dante, never forgetting the
moral responsibility of art, has reserved the lowest circle of hell
for Brutus, Cassius, and Judas Iscariot.

It imports little to the greatness of such a one as Caesar, to add that
in an age of oratory he stood in the first rank of orators; that his
historical writings are an unrivalled model of vigor, lucidity, and
elegance; that he carried his scientific culture to a point very
unusual among his countrymen; and that his personal prowess and feats
of endurance were the admiration of veteran soldiers. Women loved him,
and he loved them. Enjoying life thoroughly, he was temperate in all
things. To no man has it been given to approach more nearly to the
perfection of human nature--complete, evenly balanced, and
self-controlled.

MARC ANTONY

(83-30 B.C.)

[Illustration: Marc Antony.]

Marcus Antonius, or Marc Antony, grandson of Antonius the orator, and
son of Antonius Creticus, seems to have been born about 83 B.C. While
still a child he lost his father, whose example however, had he been
spared, would have done little for the