Though a man of no great erudition, he had a tolerable grain of common sense, and this enabled him to discover which was the surest road to power. He therefore at an early age, gave up the spade for the spear, leaving his scythe to rust while he sharpened his sword. And, under the consul Metellus, he cut a dash as a very smart lieutenant in the two hundred and fifty-third dragoons, and practised warfare in a very creditable manner against Jugurtha.

We need not stop here to note all the ups and downs of the African war. Neither need we give the particulars of the dodging, whereby Marius compassed the dismissal of Metellus from the generalship, in order to make room for himself. Suffice it to say that in due time-or at least by undue means he was made commander-in-chief, and by and bye he returned to Rome, bringing with him the African warrior con quered, and chained, and tied to his horse's tail. This caused a great stir in Rome, and

gave the young field-marshal a good lift on the road to fame.

About that time one of the kings of the north who had a fine royalty of some thousands of square miles, thought that the acquisition of a few hundreds more, in a nice country like Italy, was not a thing to be sneezed at. So he led a tremendous great mob of soldiers into the Roman territory, making as though he would come and take up his quarters in Rome itself, doubtless supposing he should frighten the good people either out of their country, or out of their senses. And if the Romans had been funky fellows, he probably would, for his great army was a frightfully undisciplined crowd of ill-looking scaramouches. But the Romans were much more plucky than he took them to be. So it happened when he passed the Rubicon, and was dreaming of laying hold of their fields and marketgardens, that the Romans went out to meet him, and much to his chagrin, did not give

him their beans and bacon, but gave him battle instead.

Now, Marius, who, as we have shown, had seen a little hard fighting before, acted on this occasion as generalissimo of his country-men. Nor could they well have hit upon a better leader. He had rather a long head, and a very long arm: a stout heart and a stout hand. He was like a serpent for cunning, and brave as a lion. He was therefore cut out for the battle-field, where he cut up his foes with wonderful speed and consummate neatness; the skill which he thus displayed was perfectly marvellous. And his anatomical dexterity made such an impression upon the bodies and minds respectively of the Teutones-the parties on whom he now exercised-that they were either struck dead, or struck with astonishment, accordingly as they had corporeal or only mental experience of the hardness and sharpness of his blows.

The upshot of the affair was exactly such

as might have been expected. The Teutonic leader, losing his temper first and his courage next, thought fit to cut his stick lest Marius should cut his throat. And, in a word, the Teutones were altogether flummoxed. This event afforded the liveliest satisfaction to the men of Rome, as likewise to the women also; and similar encounters with similar foes, attended with the like results in the course of the next few months, rendered Marius a greater man than ever. He was made consul over and over again. And happy would it have been for him and for Rome too, if he had left the stage of life directly after the above magnificent performances. But that was the farthest thing possible from his intentions. For having by the means above mentioned succeeded in gaining pre-eminence, he formed a determination to keep it ever after. Now about this time there was at Rome an opposition shaver-a very ambitious man, almost as much so as Marius, and nearly as fortunate.

His name was Sylla. Between him and Marius there was no love lost; and just as Marius returned from drawing and quartering the northern barbarians, Sylla was engaged fighting with one Mithridates, King of Pontus.

In this war there was every prospect of Sylla's adding to the laurels he had already gained; which, indeed, was a very dreary look-out for Marius, who having no other means of keeping up his popularity than by raising sedition, or spreading liberal doctrines at home, was desperately afraid that Sylla would take the shine out of him.

What course then does our Roman liberal pursue in order to get out of his fix? He convenes an assembly of the plebs and tells them, what very few had dreamt of before, but what a very many believe as soon as Marius tells them-which was, that Sylla being a crafty noble must be narrowly watched, that he was nothing of a soldier, and would never add any kind of polish to