to awaken his fainting soul from the torpor which seemed to be gathering on it at every interval of impassioned frenzy. There is in solitary misery, a comfortless horror in brooding over misfortunes, which far exceeds even the cutting pangs we feel when those we love are involved in our calamities. In the latter situation we have a pleasing object to rest the external sense on; and the very gratification of our feelings on such an occasion, diffuses a tranquil luxury over our sorrows; in the former, all is dark and comfortless, and a gnawing horror perpetually suggests ideas, which the gangrened imagination, while it trembles to nourish, is unable to resist the indulgence of. Such was the situation of Frederic, when the recollection of the past, the horror of the present, and the prospect of the future, drew from the bottom of his soul, 'Oh! that I had the wings of a dove, then would I fly away and be at rest. Edmond could at this ejaculation no longer contain himself, but rushing into the room, and hanging over his fainting friend, All may yet be well,' said he, 'we may yet live to renew our pleasures; to pursue those fond projects which your too delicate generosity has so cruelly interrupted!' The well-known voice sounded on Frederic's dying senses, and recalled a momentary exertion of his languid spirit; Never, never; it is past! Oh! Edmond, it is past!'-then darting a look of despairing agony to Heaven, he exclaimed, in a trembling voice, My God! My God! why hast thou forsaken me? and sinking into the arms of his friend, groaned out his soul, and expired.-C. NOTES TO CORRESPONDENTS. TOGATUS must have entered very dully into the spirit of the numbers he objects to; I shall exemplify my power of rejection, in the non-insertion of L his letter. I shall be happy in the future correspondence of SIMON SNUBNOSE; at present I fear he glances too much on politics for admission. N° 20. MONDAY, MARCH 26, 1787. Fratrem facere ex hostibus.-PLAUT. HAVING Occasion lately to refer to a chronological epitome, I accidentally cast my eyes on the name of Julius Cæsar; and it was not without some emotion, that I read the following account of so extraordinary a character: 6 Julius Cæsar, Emperor of Rome, born July 10, 100, invaded Britain, landing at Deal, August 26th, 55, killed in the Senate-house, March 15, 44, A. C. after having fought fifty battles, slain above 1,192,000 men, and taken by assault 1000 towns.' Whether the compiler of this work has thus briefly given this list of destruction, without mentioning its causes, with a view to stigmatize Cæsar as an execrable tyrant, or that he really considered these exploits as the most striking instances of his greatness, is not for me to determine; certain it is, that a selftaught philosopher would form but an indifferent opinion of mankind in general, should he, from this sketch, derive his knowledge of a hero, whose name is idolized as the standard of human greatness; whose actions command the admiration even of his enemies; and whose imitation terminates the most extensive prospects of ambition. In this paper, therefore, I shall endeavour to prove, that it was not on the sacking of a thousand towns, 10 with the murder or alienation of their inhabitants, The that Cæsar laid the foundations of that immortality, the desire of which seems to have given motion to the designs of his capacious ambition; and roused every nerve to those astonishing exertions which characterize his measures as well in the cabinet as in the field, That he understood and practised the noblest art of conquest, by attacking the generosity of his enemies in preference to their fears. And that, if his ambition was of that kind which some have represented it, a more daring piece of injustice was never directed to more beneficial purposes. 1 A dauntless resolution, and cunning revenge, says Machiavel, are the most effectual assistants to ambition. How false this position is, we may ourselves conclude, when we see Borgia employing a life of fraud, in an unsuccessful attempt to acquire a petty principality; Julius, by an open liberality of sentiment, and a thorough knowledge of the human heart, rising from the inspection of weights and measures, to wield the sceptre of the world: the career of the former checked by the recoil of his own artifice, and himself protracting his miserable existence in the horrors of a debilitated constitution, and the disappointment of blasted ambition; the latter, nobly sinking in the very theatre of his glory, by the hands of those whom even in death he had the satisfaction of upbraiding with their ingratitude. Cæsar's is a character, which, though more generally known, has perhaps been less equitably investigated than any other in history. Dazzled with the lustre of his successes, a kind of reverential awe deters us from tracing their progress; or, if we cursorily examine it, we are prejudiced against him by what is imagined his prime motive, the aggrandizement of himself: and conceive, that as he was the first man who established despotism on any permanent footing in Rome, he must necessarily have been the oppressor of his country. His partisans have lost the vices of his heart, in the greatness of his mind; and his detractors have reduced even the virtues of a generous temper, to the cold prudence of political foresight. Should I endeavour to examine, whether, in a corrupted commonwealth a man is to be so far actuated by self-preservation, as to make himself first, where to be second is death; and where the contest is, who shall first seize illegal power to the prejudice of the other, whether ambition is justified in bearing an active part; I should approach nearer to a metaphysical, than an historical, disquisition. I shall therefore content myself with taking a short view of the conduct of Julius, when compared with that of Sylla and Augustus. For as all were nearly or precisely in the same situations, as all had equal power, all were exposed to the same temptations, and all had the same plea for the exercise of those cruelties, which the insolence of success, or political jealousy might dictate, the characters may surely be equitably compared; and the merits of each impartially distinguished. The massacre of the Villa Publica, and the bloody tribunal of Mutina, are incontestible proofs of the savage depravity human nature is capable of, when steeled by the success of illegal ambition, or the avidity of premeditated revenge. But Sylla, it may be answered, was only retaliating on the Marians; and Augustus was gratifying a laudable resentment, when persecuting the murderers of his uncle. Yet Julius had both these instigations; an imitation of Sylla had been the constant threat of Pompey in consequence of a victory; and those who experienced the generosity of Cæsar, were the very assassins who had been instrumental to the murder of his relations. The unfeeling cruelty of Sylla, and the cold satur nine revenge of Augustus, are proofs of black and Ss depraved hearts, which we no where find in Julius is on the contrary, if we may credit the testimony of gra Suetonius, and other writers of his history, he seems dus to have expressed a concern for the alternative he CO was reduced to on the eve of every important enterprise during his civil wars; and even to have turned with horror and commiseration from the bleeding head of his most inveterate enemy. His apparent for severity to the barbarians during his provincial adte ministration, has with some appearance of reason d been considered as a stigma on his character; but if we trace this consummate general through his operations in Gaul, if we thoroughly examine the character of the surrounding nations, their ferocity when conquerors, and their perfidy when admitted to equitable terms, we shall immediately acquit him of wanton cruelty; and refer any apparent act of injustice to the necessity he was under of subduing, by violent and arbitrary measures, a people, whose se fears were their only ties of fidelity. Their entire subjection was absolutely necessary to the safety of the Romans, whose inmost barrier they surrounded on every side; yet even in this dangerous situation, Cæsar, on every possible occasion, preferred the more gentle method of expostulation and reproof, to those bloody remedies which seem to have been so repugnant to his disposition. 10 al 6 A similar behaviour in the succeeding age of so unimpeached a character as Germanicus, will sufficiently evince the necessity of seasonable acts of violence among barbarians. Orabat,' says Tacitus, when describing his conduct in the midst of an engagement, insisterent cædibus; solam internecionem gentis finem bello fore.' • He entreated them to pursue their slaughter; that the extirpation of the whole race alone would put an end to the war;' plainly proving, by this unusual eagerness for bloodshed in L |