the ancient world, which accordingly moved on in the
path that he marked out for it until its sun went
down. Sprung from one of the oldest noble families
of Latium—which traced back its lineage
to the heroes of the Iliad and the kings of Rome, and
in fact to the Venus-Aphrodite common to both nations—he
spent the years of his boyhood and early manhood as
the genteel youth of that epoch were wont to spend
them. He had tasted the sweetness as well as
the bitterness of the cup of fashionable life, had
recited and declaimed, had practised literature and
made verses in his idle hours, had prosecuted love-intrigues
of every sort, and got himself initiated into all
the mysteries of shaving, curls, and ruffles pertaining
to the toilette-wisdom of the day, as well as into
the still more mysterious art of always borrowing and
never paying. But the flexible steel of that
nature was proof against even these dissipated and
flighty courses; Caesar retained both his bodily vigour
and his elasticity of mind and of heart unimpaired.
In fencing and in riding he was a match for any of
his soldiers, and his swimming saved his life at Alexandria;
the incredible rapidity of his journeys, which usually
for the sake of gaining time were performed by night—a
thorough contrast to the procession-like slowness
with which Pompeius moved from one place to another—
was the astonishment of his contemporaries and not
the least among the causes of his success. The
mind was like the body. His remarkable power
of intuition revealed itself in the precision and
practicability of all his arrangements, even where
he gave orders without having seen with his own eyes.
His memory was matchless, and it was easy for him
to carry on several occupations simultaneously with
equal self-possession. Although a gentleman,
a man of genius, and a monarch, he had still a heart.
So long as he lived, he cherished the purest veneration
for his worthy mother Aurelia (his father having died
early); to his wives and above all to his daughter
Julia he devoted an honourable affection, which was
not without reflex influence even on political affairs.
With the ablest and most excellent men of his time,
of high and of humbler rank, he maintained noble relations
of mutual fidelity, with each after his kind.
As he himself never abandoned any of his partisans
after the pusillanimous and unfeeling manner of Pompeius,
but adhered to his friends—and that not
merely from calculation—through good and
bad times without wavering, several of these, such
as Aulus Hirtius and Gaius Matius, gave, even after
his death, noble testimonies of their attachment to
him.