province to the empire at the cost of a horrible amount of bloodshed, of the lives, as some say, of two millions of men, women, and children (for Caesar, though not positively cruel, was absolutely careless of suffering), and to leave the conqueror master of the Roman world.  The coalition indeed was broken up, for Crassus had perished in the East, carrying on a foolish and unprovoked war with the Parthians, and Pompey had come to fear and hate his remaining rival.  But Caesar was now strong enough to do without friends, and to crush enemies.  The Senate vainly commanded him to disperse his army by a certain day, on pain of being considered an enemy of the country.  He continued to advance till he came to the boundaries of Italy, a little river, whose name, the Rubicon, was then made famous forever, which separated Cisalpine Gaul from Umbria.  To cross this was practically to declare war, and even the resolute Caesar hesitated awhile.  He thought his course over by himself; he even consulted his friends.  He professed himself pained at the thought of the war of which his act would be the beginning, and of how posterity would judge his conduct.  Then with the famous words, “The die is cast,” he plunged into the stream.  Pompey fled from Rome and from Italy.  Caesar did not waste an hour in pursuing his success.  First making Italy wholly his own, he marched into Spain, which was Pompey’s stronghold, and secured it.  Thence he returned to Rome, and from Rome again made his way into Macedonia, where Pompey had collected his forces.  The decisive battle was fought at Pharsalia in Thessaly; for though the remnants of Pompey’s party held out, the issue of the war was never doubtful after that day.

Returning to Rome (for of his proceedings in Egypt and elsewhere there is no need to speak), he used his victory with as much mercy as he had shown energy in winning it.  To Cicero he showed not only nothing of malice, but the greatest courtesy and kindness.  He had written to him from Egypt, telling him that he was to keep all his dignities and honors; and he had gone out of his way to arrange an interview with him, and he even condescended to enter into a friendly controversy.  Cicero had written a little treatise about his friend Cato; and as Cato had been the consistent adversary of Caesar, and had killed himself rather than fall into the hands of the master of Rome, it required no little good nature in Caesar to take it in good part.  He contented himself with writing an answer, to which he gave the title of Anti-Cato, and in which, while he showed how useless and unpractical the policy of Cato had been, he paid the highest compliments to the genius and integrity of the man.  He even conferred upon Cicero the distinguished honor of a visit; which the host thus describes in a letter to Atticus.  “What a formidable guest I have had!  Still, I am not sorry; for all went off very well.  On December 8th he came to Philippus’ house in the evening.  (Philippus was his brother-in-law.)