However it be, charged with the affairs of Gaul accidentally and unexpectedly, Caesar went there without well knowing the condition of it, and, in fact, as I think I proved in a long appendix published in the French and English editions of my work, he began his Gallic policy with a serious mistake; that is, attacking the Helvetians.  A superior mind, Caesar was not long in finding his bearings in the midst of the tremendous confusion he found in Gaul; but for this, there is no need to think that he carried out in the Gallic policy vast schemes, long meditated:  he worked, instead, as the uncertain changes of Roman politics imposed.  I believe that there is but one way to understand and reasonably explain the policy pursued by Caesar in Gaul, his sudden moves, his zigzags, his audacities, his mistakes; that is, to study it from Rome, to keep always in mind the internal changes, the party struggle, in which he was involved at Rome.  In short, Gaul was for Caesar only a means to operate on the internal politics of Rome, of which he made use from day to day, as the immediate interest of the passing hour seemed to require.

I cite a single example, but the most significant.  Caesar declared Gaul a Roman province and annexed it to the Empire toward the end of 57 B.C.; that is, at the end of his second year as proconsul, unexpectedly, with no warning act to intimate such vigorous intent,—­a surprise; and why?  Look to Rome and you will understand.  In 57 B.C., the democratic party, demoralised by discords, upset by the popular agitation to recall Cicero from unjust exile, discredited by scandals, especially the Egyptian scandals, seemed on the point of going to pieces.  Caesar understood that there was but one way to stop this ruin:  to stun public opinion and all Italy with some highly audacious surprise.  The surprise was the annexation of Gaul.  Declaring Gaul a Roman province after the victory over the Belgae, he convinced Rome that he had in two years overcome all Gallic adversaries.  And so, the conquest of Gaul—­this event that was to open a new era, this event, the effects of which still endure—­was, at the beginning in the mind that conceived and executed it, nothing but a bold political expedient in behalf of a party, to solve a situation compromised by manifold errors.

But you will ask me:  how from so tiny a seed could ever grow so mighty a tree, covering with its branches so much of the earth?  You know that at the close of the proconsulship in Gaul, there breaks out a great civil war; this lasts, with brief interruptions and pauses, until the battle of Actium.  Only toward 30 B.C., is the tempest lulled, and during this time Gaul seems almost to disappear; the ancient writers hardly mention it, except from time to time for a moment to let us know that some unimportant revolt broke out, now here, now there, in the vast territory; that this or that general was sent to repress it.