and abandon once established platitudes because of obscure feats of heroism on the Tagus.  Caesar evidently played in the league the mere part of the adjutant who executed for his chief the work which Flavius, Afranius, and other less capable instruments had attempted and not performed.  Even his governorship seemed not to alter this state of things.  Afranius had but recently occupied a very similar position, without thereby acquiring any special importance; several provinces at once had been of late years repeatedly placed under one governor, and often far more than four legions had been united in one hand; as matters were again quiet beyond the Alps and prince Ariovistus was recognized by the Romans as a friend and neighbour, there was no prospect of conducting a war of any moment there.  It was natural to compare the position which Pompeius had obtained by the Gabinio-Manilian law with that which Caesar had obtained by the Vatinian; but the comparison did not turn out to Caesar’s advantage.  Pompeius ruled over nearly the whole Roman empire; Caesar over two provinces.  Pompeius had the soldiers and the treasures of the state almost absolutely at his disposal; Caesar had only the sums assigned to him and an army of 24,000 men.  It was left to Pompeius himself to fix the point of time for his retirement; Caesar’s command was secured to him for a long period no doubt, but yet only for a limited term.  Pompeius, in fine, had been entrusted with the most important undertakings by sea and land; Caesar was sent to the north, to watch over the capital from upper Italy and to take care that Pompeius should rule it undisturbed.

Pompeius and the Capital
Anarchy

But when Pompeius was appointed by the coalition to be ruler of the capital, he undertook a task far exceeding his powers.  Pompeius understood nothing further of ruling than may be summed up in the word of command.  The waves of agitation in the capital were swelled at once by past and by future revolutions; the problem of ruling this city—­which in every respect might be compared to the Paris of the nineteenth century—­without an armed force was infinitely difficult, and for that stiff and stately pattern-soldier altogether insoluble.  Very soon matters reached such a pitch that friends and foes, both equally inconvenient to him, could, so far as he was concerned, do what they pleased; after Caesar’s departure from Rome the coalition ruled doubtless still the destinies of the world, but not the streets of the capital.  The senate too, to whom there still belonged a sort of nominal government, allowed things in the capital to follow their natural course; partly because the section of this body controlled by the coalition lacked the instructions of the regents, partly because the angry opposition kept aloof out of indifference or pessimism, but chiefly because the whole aristocratic corporation began to feel at any rate, if not to comprehend, its utter impotence.