the ranks of his cavalry, in order to supply the deficiency of their numbers.

Pompey, on the other hand, was too confident of success; he even boasted in council, that he could put Cæsar's legion to flight, without striking a single blow, presuming that, as soon as the armies formed, his cavalry, on which he placed his chief reliance, would out-flank and surround the enemy. Labienus commended this scheme of Pompey; and to increase the confidence of the army still more, he took an oath, in which the rest followed him, never to return to the camp but with victory. In this disposition, and under these advantageous impressions, the troops were led to battle.

Pompey drew up his army with skill and judgment: in the centre, and on the flanks, he placed all his veterans, and distributed his new raised troops between the wings and the main body. The Syrian legions were placed in the centre, under the command of Scipio; the Spaniards, on whom he greatly relied, were on the right, under Domitius Enobarbus; and on the left, were stationed the two legions, which Cæsar had restored in the beginning of the war, led on by Pompey himself; because from thence he intended to make the principal attack ; and for the same reason he had assembled there all his horse, slingers, and archers, of whom his right wing, being covered by the river Enipeus, stood in no need. Cæsar likewise divided his army into three bodies, under three commanders: Domitius Calvinus being placed in the centre, and Mark Antony on the left, while he led on the right wing, which was to oppose the left, commanded by Pompey. As he observed the enemy's numerous cavalry to be all drawn to one spot, he guessed at Pompey's intention; to obviate which, he made a draft of six cohorts from his rear line, and forming them into a separate body, concealed them behind his right wing, with instructions not to throw their javelins at a distance, but to keep them in their hands, and push them directly into the faces and eyes of the horsemen, who, being composed of the younger part of the Roman nobility, valued themselves upon their beauty, and dreaded a scar in the face more than a wound in the body. He, lastly, placed his small body of cavalry so as to cover the right of his favourite tenth legion, ordering his right line not to march till they had received the signal from him. And now, the fate of the empire of Rome was to be decided by the greatest generals, the bravest officers, and the most expert troops, that the world had ever seen.. Almost every private man in both armies was capable of performing the duty of a commander, and each seemed inspired with a resolution to conquer or die.

As the armies approached, the two generals went from rank

to rank, encouraging their men, raising their hopes, and obviating their doubts. Pompey represented to his men, that the glorious occasion which they had earnestly solicited him to grant, was now before them; "and, indeed," cried he, "what advantage could you wish over an enemy, that you are not now possessed of? Your numbers, your vigour, a late victory, all assure a speedy and an easy conquest of those harassed and broken troops, composed of men worn out with age, and imprest with the terrors of a recent defeat; but there is still a stronger bulwark for our protection than the superiority of our strength-the justice of our cause. You are engaged in the defence of liberty and of your country: you are supported by its laws, and followed by its magistrates: you have the world spectators of your conduct, and wishing you success: on the contrary, he whom you oppose is a robber and a traitor to his country, and almost already sunk with the consciousness of his crimes, as well as the bad success of his arms. Show, then, on this occasion, all that ardour and detestation of tyranny that should animate Romans, and do justice to mankind."

Cæsar, for his part, exhibited to his men that steady serenity for which he was so much admired in the midst of danger. He insisted on nothing so strongly to his soldiers, as his frequent and unsuccessful endeavours for peace. He talked with horror of the blood he was going to shed, and pleaded only the necessity that urged him to the deed. He deplored the many brave men that were to fall on both sides, and the wounds of his country, whoever should be victorious. His soldiers answered his speech with looks of ardour and impatience, on observing which, he gave the signal to charge. The word on Pompey's side was, "Hercules the invincible :" that on Cæsar's, "Venus the victorious." Pompey ordered his men to receive the first shock without moving out of their places, expecting the enemy's ranks to be put into disorder by their motion. Cæsar's soldiers were now rushing on with their usual impetuosity, when perceiving the enemy motionless, they stopped short, as if by general consent, and halted in the midst of their career. A terrible pause ensued, in which both armies continued to gaze upon each other with mutual terror and dreadful serenity; at length, Cæsar's men, having taken breath, ran furiously upon the enemy, first discharging their javelins, and then drawing their swords. The same method was observed by Pompey's troops, who as firmly sustained the attack. His cavalry, also, were ordered to charge at the very onset, which, with the multitude of archers and slingers, soon obliged Cæsar's men to give ground, and throw themselves, as he had foreseen, upon the flank of his army: whereupon Ca

sar immediately ordered the six cohorts, that were placed as a reinforcement, to advance; and repeated his orders, to strike at the enemy's faces. This had the desired effect: the cavalry, who thought they were sure of victory, received an immediate check: the unusual method of fighting pursued by the cohorts, their aiming entirely at the visages of the assailants, contributed to intimidate the enemy so much, that instead of defending their persons, their only endeavour was to save their faces. A total rout ensued of their whole body, which fled in great disorder to the neighbouring mountains, while the archers and slingers, who were thus abandoned, were cut to pieces. Cæsar now commanded the cohorts to pursue their success, and advancing, charged Pompey's troops upon the flank; this charge the enemy withstood for some time with great bravery, till he brought up his third line, which had not yet engaged. Pompey's infantry being thus doubly attacked in front by fresh troops, and in the rear by the victorious cohorts, could no longer resist, but fled to their camp. The flight began among the auxiliaries, though Pompey's right wing still valiantly maintained their ground. Cæsar, however, being now certain of victory, with his usual clemency, cried out to pursue the strangers, but to spare the Romans; upon which they all laid down their arms and received quarter.

The battle bad now lasted from the break of day till noon, the weather being extremely hot; nevertheless, the conquerors did not remit their ardour, being encouraged by the example of their general, who thought his victory not complete till he was master of his opponent's camp. Accordingly, marching on foot at the head of his troops, he called upon them to follow, and strike the decisive blow. The cohorts, which were left to defend the camp, for some time made a formidable resistance; particularly a great number of Thracians and of other barbarous nations, who were appointed for its defence; but nothing could resist the ardour of Cæsar's victorious army; the camp and trenches were at last evacuated, and the survivors escaped to the mountains.

Cæsar, seeing the field and the camp strewed with his fallen countrymen, was deeply affected at so melancholy a spectacle, and exclaimed, as if by way of justification, "They would have it so." Úpon entering the enemy's camp, every object presented fresh instances of the blind presumption and madness of his adversaries; on all sides were to be seen tents adorned with ivy and branches of myrtle, couches covered with purple, and side-boards loaded with plate. Every thing, in short, evinced the most refined luxury, and seemed rather preparafive for a banquet, or the rejoicing for a victory, than the dis

positions for a battle. Such a rich assemblage of plunder might have been able to engage the attention of any troops but Cæsar's: he, however, would not permit them to pursue any object than their enemies, till they were entirely subdued. A considerable body of Pompey's army having rallied on the adjacent mountains, Cæsar began to enclose them by a circumvallation but they quickly abandoned a post which was not tenable for want of water, and endeavoured to reach the city of Larissa. Cæsar, however, leading a part of his army by a shorter way, intercepted their retreat, and obliged these unhappy fugitives once more to seek protection from a mountain washed by a rivulet which supplied them with water. The victor's troops were almost spent, and ready to faint with their incessant toil since morning, yet he prevailed upon them again to renew their labours, and to cut off the rivulet that supplied the fugitives; who, thus deprived of all hopes of succour or subsistence, sent deputies with an offer of surrendering at discretion. During this interval of "negotiation, a few senators, who were among them, took the advantage of the night to escape; and the rest, next morning, gave up their arms, and experienced the conqueror's clemency. Thus Cæsar, by his conduct, gained the most complete victory in the annals of history, and by his great clemency after the battle, in some measure seems to have deserved it. His loss amounted only to two hundred men; that of Pompey to fifteen thousand, as well Romans as auxiliaries; twenty-four thousand men surrendered themselves prisoners of war, and the greatest part of which entered into Cæsar's army. As to the senators and Roman knights who fell into his hands, he generously gave them liberty to retire wherever they pleased; and the letters which Pompey had received from several persons who wished to be thought neutral, he committed to the flames without reading them, as Pompey had done upon a former occasion. Thus having performed all the duties of a general and a statesman, he sent for the legions which had passed the night in the camp, in order to relieve those which had accompanied him in the pursuit; and being determined to follow Pompey, began his march and arrived the same day at Larissa.

The courage and conduct for which Pompey had been so long and justly celebrated, seem wholly to have forsaken him at this trying crisis. When he saw his cavalry routed, on which he had placed his principal dependence, he appeared bereft of reason. Instead of thinking how to remedy this disorder, by rallying his flying troops, or by opposing fresh men to stop the progress of the conquerors, he returned to the camp, and in his tent waited the issue of an event, which it was his

duty to direct, not to follow. There he remained for some moments without speaking, till being told, that the camp was attacked, "What," says he, " are we pursued to our very intrenchments?" and immediately quitting his armour for a habit more suited to his circumstances, he fled on horseback to Larissa; from whence, perceiving he was not pursued, he slackened his pace, giving way to all the agonizing reflections which the melancholy reverse of his fortune must naturally suggest. In this forlorn condition he passed along the vale of Tempe, and pursuing the course of the river Peneus, at last arrived at a fisherman's hut, in which he passed the night. From thence he went on board a little bark, and keeping along the sea-shore, he descried a ship of some burthen preparing to sail, in which he embarked, and landed at Amphipolis; where finding his affairs desperate, he steered to Lesbos, to take in his wife Cornelia, whom he had left there at a distance from the theatre of the war. She, who had long flattered herself with the hopes of victory, felt the reverse of her fortune in an agony of distress.-Being desired by the messenger, whose tears, more than words, proclaimed the greatness of her misfortunes, to hasten, if she expected to see Pompey, with but one ship, and even that not his own; her grief, which before was violent, became insupportable: she fainted away, and lay a considerable time without any signs of life. At length, recovering herself, and reflecting it was now no time for vain lamentations, she ran quite through the city to the sea-side. Pompey received her without speaking a word, and for some time supported her in his arms in silent anguish. When they found words for their distress, Cornelia imputed to herself a part of the miseries that were come upon them, and instanced many former misfortunes of her life. Pompey endeavoured to comfort her, by representing the uncertainty of human affairs and from his present unexpected wretchedness, teaching her to hope for as unexpected a turn of good fortune. In the mean time, the people of the island, who had great obligations to Pompey, gathered around them into their city. Pompey however, declined their invitation, and even advised them to

submit to the conqueror. "Be under no apprehensions," cried he, "Cæsar may be my enemy, but still let me acknowledge his moderation and humanity." Cratippus, the Greek philosopher, also came to pay his respects. Pompey, as is but too frequent with the unfortunate, complained to him of Providence. Cratippus wisely declined entering deeply into the argument, rather satisfied with supplying new motives to hope, than combating the present impiety of his despair.

Having taken in Cornelia, he continued his course, steering