ajority. In fact,
things had arrived at a crisis: Caesar was recalled, and he must obey
the Senate, or be decreed a public enemy; that is, the enemy of the
power that ruled the State. He would not obey, and a general levy of
troops in support of the Senate was made, and put into the hands of
Pompey with unlimited command. The Tribunes of the people, however,
sided with Caesar, and refused confirmation of the Senatorial decrees.
Caesar then no longer hesitated, but with his army crossed the Rubicon,
which was an insignificant stream, but was the Rome-ward boundary of his
province. This was the declaration of civil war. It was now "'either
anvil or hammer." The admirers of Caesar claim that his act was a
necessity, at least a public benefit, on the ground of the misrule of
the aristocracy. But it does not appear that there was anarchy at Rome,
although Milo had killed Clodius. There were aristocratic feuds, as in
the Middle Ages. Order and law--the first conditions of society--were
not in jeopardy, as in the French Revolution, when Napoleon arose. The
people were not in hostile array against the nobles, nor the nobles
against the people. The nobles only courted and bribed the people; but
so general was corruption that a change in government was deemed
necessary by the advocates of Caesar,--at least they defended it. The
gist of all the arguments in favor of the revolution is: better
imperialism than an oligarchy of corrupt nobles. It is not my province
to settle that question. It is my work only to describe events.
It is clear that Caesar resolved on seizing supreme power, in taking it
away from the nobles, on the ground probably that he could rule better
than they,--the plea of Napoleon, the plea of Cromwell, the plea of
all usurpers.
But this supreme power he could not exercise until he had conquered
Pompey and the Senate and all his enemies. It must need be that "he
should wade through slaughter to his throne." This alternative was
forced on him, and he accepted it. He accepted civil war in order to
reign. At best, he would do evil that good might come. He was doubtless
the strongest man in the world; and, according to Mr. Carlyle's theory,
the strongest ought to rule.
Much has been said about the rabble,--the democracy,--their turbulence,
corruption, and degradation, their unfitness to rule, and all that sort
of thing, which I regard as irrelevant, so far as the usurpation of
Caesar is concerned; since the strug
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