acter, universally respected and beloved; so truly noble in his sentiments, and upright in his conduct, that no one would suspect even for a moment, that Brutus could be won from honour. If, therefore, he could be gained to aid the projected enterprise, all would be safe: the Romans would feel assured that he must be ight; and he being also the friend of Cæsar, they would suppose that victorious general must be guilty of some wrong, or Brutus would not turn against him. Cassius was well aware that the sentiments of Brutus were decidedly against monarchy; yet, how far his personal regard for Cæsar might operate to influence his political opinions, it was impossible to say, or how far his own interest might induce him to keep silence. Of this latter, Cassius was most in doubt. A monitor within whispered, that interest would be able to sway himself; and that Cæsar's greatest crime was in being the first man in Rome, a crime of which he would willingly have been himself guilty, had he possessed the means. But he effectually deceived his fellow conspirators, by a show of manly virtue ; probably deceived himself: whilst, to the thinking mind, his motives were at once evidently selfish and contemptible. Were Cæsar removed, Cassius must, under the sanction of Brutus, stand high. Honours, wealth, and power, would fall upon him; and, though it was a vice in Cæsar to aim at being first in Rome, Cassius thought it virtue in himself to feel content with the idea of being second! He had already taken some opportunities of speaking to Brutus, hinting obliquely at Cæsar's ambition in wishing to obtain the crown; and he had gained some hope from Brutus's answers, when he spoke of Cæsar being King, mentioning it as an event likely to occur; and Brutus replied, "I fear it."

"Ay, do you fear it ?" returned Cassius hastily.

"Then must I think you would not have it so." To which Brutus replied:

I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well;
But wherefore do you hold me here so long?
What is it that you would impart to me?
If it be aught toward the general good,
Set honour in one eye, and death in the other,
And I will look on both indifferently;
For, let the gods so speed rne, as I love

The name of honour more than I fear death.***

Cassius upon this hint spoke more freely-and with little ceremony vented his dislike of Cæsar Amongst other charges he expressed contempt of the uncertainty of his health, but spoke of it as a crime, rather than a misfortune, and in his bitterness of spleen forbore to praise the fortitude and strength of mind with which Cæsar had contended against a dreadful infirmity of nature, and how by the most powerful exertions, both of mind and body, he had frequently conquered its direful effects, nor ever in any instance suffered it to interfere with his least duty yet this resolution claimed no merit in the jaundiced eye of Cassius. Perceiving that Brutus heard him with deep attention, and did not attempt any vindication, he gained more courage, and hoping to awaken the fire of ambition, interlarded his censures of Cæsar, with praises of himself.

Brutus and Caesar: What should be in that Cæsar?
Why should that name be sounded more than yours?
Write them together, yours is as fair a name;
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well;
Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure them,
Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Cæsar.
Now in the name of all the gods at once,
Upon what meat doth this our Cæsar feed,
That he is grown so great-

Julius Caesar was subject to epilepsy

Oh! you and I have heard our fathers say,
There was a Brutus once that would have brook'd

The eternal devil to keep his state at Rome,

As easily as a king.***

That you do love me, I am nothing jealous;
What you would work me to, I have some aim:

-What you have said,

I will consider; what you have to say,

1 will find a time to hear-and, remember
Brutus had rather be a villager,

Than to repute himself a son of Rome
Under these hard conditions, as this time
Is like to lay upon us.***

Cassius, well pleased to have proceeded thus far, forbore to press the subject any further now; but resolving that the awakened fire of freedom in Bruus's breast should not slumber, he caused letters to

written in various hands, and thrown in at his wiadow, put under his seat in the senate house, and ng upon the statue of his great ancestor. These Tetors contained but few words, yet all tending to same purpose:

Brutus, thou sleep'st; awake, and see thyself.
Shall Rome, &c. Speak, strike, redress!
Brutus, awake.***

Thus called upon, as it appeared, by his countrymen, his lofty mind was agonized between his love of Cæsar and the love of freedom. Truly Roman, all private feelings must be sacrificed to the public welfare; so Brutus thought yet the struggle was great. The ancient Roman honour was of that masculine kind, where every soft and gentle impulse was expelled; and the sternness of Roman virtue disdained to listen to the appeals of tenderness. Every feeling was subdued to that one term honour; and to this honour Brutus, the great Brutus, yielded his affection and gratitude. His obligations towards Cæsar were indeed great; he fought against him, in that fatal battle where Pompey had been defeated, and became Cæsar's prisoner! his wife, his liberty in his hands: yet Cæsar not only forgave, but received him to his favour, loaded him with honours, and loved him as a father loves a son. Brutus was Cæsar's idol.; yet Brutus could raise his arm against Cæsar. Could pierce the breast that loved him, and called it virtue-honour-freedom! and so it was in Brutus; though strained too far. In him it was the soul of honour, the love of his country's freedom. In Cassius it was but a mask: yet Cassius loudly talked of honour, as if that had been the only sentiment which filled his breast.

Refulgent honour! eagle-winged thou art;
In mid day glare, thou soarest to the sun,
Undazzled by his beaming radiance.
And honour, sacred honour, is the pledge
Of good, and great, of noble, virtuous,

Of all that heart can feel, or tongue can speak,
Or pen can paint! yet may we not mistake
This godlike sentiment, mistake ourselves?
Call honour to support our pride, our hate,
Our vengeance?Twas surely thus with Cassius
Cesar was great-as Cassius would have been;

Cæsar was loved-as Cassius would have been;
Cæsar was first in Roine-as Cassius would
Have been, could he have realized his wish;
Nor deemed it in himself a sin perchance.
ཨཉྙ O! we do oft mistake our own base thoughts,
Dressing our pride out in fair speciousness,
Bidding ambition pluck ambition down,
To learn or which is mightiest !

From the time when Cassius first spoke to Brutus on the subject of Cæsar's ambition, the latter had known no rest. The frequent attacks made upon him by the papers thrown in his way-the artful flattery of Cassius and of the other conspirators operated on his mind, and he felt himself called upon by his country to strike at the heart of him who might subvert her freedom: yet Brutus saw nothing in Cæsar dangerous, no reason to suppose that power would lead him to injustice-save, in his general opinion, that the weakness of human nature is seldom able to endure unlimited power, and still preserve its judgment. With the fear of what might be, he was impelled to conspire against the life of him he loved. Not that Cæsar, as. Cæsar only, was dangerous-but that Cæsar, as king of Rome, might eventually become so, and to this fear a valuable life must be sacrificed.

The wife of Brutus, Portia, was daughter of Cato the censor, a nobleminded woman, worthy to be the wife of Brutus and Cato's daughter. She had long beheld with pain the unsettled state of her husband's mind, and her affection led her to inquire the cause of his anxieties; but, equally conscious of the greatness of her husband's character, and the usual weakness of her own sex, she resolved first to prove whether she had constancy and strength of mind sufficient to render her worthy of partaking in the secret counsels of Brutus: for no light cause, she was well assured, could disturb his serenity. Dismissing her attendants, therefore, she with a knife gave herself