The clothes of the deceased are then divided among the relatives and friends; the garland is burned, another "praisegiving" is repeated; while the remains of the sacred water are sprinkled over the feast.

The parties now sit down to the enjoyment of the feast, invoking a blessing from the Almighty on themselves, their houses, and their lands.

No more solemnities are observed till the expiration of a thousand days; when, if the memory of the deceased is loved and cherished, the ceremony and feast are repeated, if otherwise, no further notice is taken of him; and having thus obtained what the Romans called his "Justa," he is allowed to be forgotten.-Phillips' Guide to the Crystal Palace.

THE BATTLE OF PHARSALIA, (B.c. 48).

CESAR had employed all his art for some time in sounding the inclinations of his men; and finding them once more resolute and vigorous, he advanced towards the plains of Pharsalia, where Pompey was encamped. The approach of the two armies, composed of the best and bravest troops in the world, together with the greatness of the prize for which they contended, filled every mind with anxiety, though with different expectations. Pompey's army being most numerous, turned all their thoughts to the enjoyment of victory; Cæsar's, with better aim, considered only the means of obtaining it. Pompey's army depended upon their numbers and their many generals; Cæsar's upon their discipline and the conduct of their single commander. Pompey's partizans hoped much from the justice of their cause; Cæsar's alleged the frequent proposals, which they had made for peace without effect. Thus the views, hopes, and motives of both seemed different, while their hatred and ambition were the same. Cæsar, who was ever foremost in offering battle, led out his army to meet the enemy; but Pompey, either suspecting the troops or

dreading the event, kept his advantageous position at the foot of the hill near which he was posted. Cæsar, unwilling to attack him at a disadvantage, resolved to decamp the next day, hoping to weary out his antago nist, who was not a match for him in sustaining the fatigues of duty. Accordingly, the order for marching was given, and the tents struck, when word was brought him that Pompey's army had now quitted their entrenchments, and advanced farther into the plain than usual; so that he might engage them at less disadvantage. Upon this, he caused his troops to halt, and with a countenance of joy informed them, that the happy time was at last come, for which they had so long wished, and which was to crown their glory and terminate their fatigues. He drew up his troops in order, and advanced towards the place of battle. His forces did not amount to half those of Pompey: the army of the one was about forty-five thousand foot and seven thousand horse; that of the other, not exceeding twenty-two thousand foot, and about a thousand horse. This proportion, particularly in the cavalry, had filled Cæsar with apprehensions: he therefore had, some days before, picked out the strongest and nimblest of his foot-soldiers, and accustomed them to fight between the ranks of his cavalry. By their assistance, his thousand horse was a match for Pompey's seven thousand, and had actually got the better in a skirmish that happened between them some days before. Pompey, on the other hand, had a strong expectation of success; he boasted that he could put Cæsar's legions to flight without striking a single blow; presuming that, as soon as the armies formed, his cavalry, on which he placed his greatest expectations, would outflank and surround the enemy. In this disposition Pompey led his troops to battle.

As the armies approached, the two generals went from rank to rank encouraging the men, warming their hopes, and lessening their apprehensions.

There was no more space between both armies than to give room for fighting. Pompey, therefore, ordered

his men to receive the first shock without moving from their places, expecting the enemy's ranks to be put into disorder. Cæsar's soldiers were now rushing on with their usual impetuosity, when, perceiving the enemy motionless, they all stopped short, as if by general consent, and halted in the midst of their career.

A terrible pause ensued, in which both armies continued to gaze upon each other with mutual terror and dreadful serenity. At length, Cæsar's men having taken breath, ran furiously upon the enemy, first discharging their javelins, and then drawing their swords. The same method was observed by Pompey's troops, who as firmly had sustained the attack.

His cavalry also were ordered to charge at the very onset; which, with the multitude of archers and slingers, soon obliged Cæsar's men to give ground. Cæsar instantly ordered the six cohorts, that were placed as a re-inforcement, to advance, and to strike at the enemy's faces. This had its desired effect. Pompey's cavalry, that were just before sure of victory, received an immediate check. The unusual method of fighting pursued by the cohorts, their aiming entirely at the visages of the assailants, and the horrible disfiguring wounds they made, all contributed to intimidate them so much, that, instead of defending their persons, they endeavoured only to save their faces.

A total rout ensued: they fled to the neighbouring mountains, while the archers and slingers, who were thus abandoned, were cut to pieces.

Cæsar now commanded the cohorts to pursue their success, and charge Pompey's troops upon the flank: this charge the enemy withstood for some time, till Cæsar brought up his third line, which had not yet engaged. Pompey's infantry being thus doubly attacked,—in front by fresh troops, and in rear by the victorious cohorts,-could no longer resist, but fled to their camp.

The flight began among the strangers. Pompey's right wing still valiantly maintained its ground. Cæsar, however, convinced that the victory was certain,

with his usual clemency cried out to pursue the strangers, but to spare the Romans; upon which they all laid down their arms and received quarter.

The greatest slaughter was among the auxiliaries, who fled on all sides. The battle had now lasted from break of day till noon: the weather was extremely hot; nevertheless, the conquerors remitted not their ardour, being encouraged by the example of a general, who thought his victory incomplete till he should become master of the enemy's camp. Accordingly, marching on foot at their head, he called upon them to follow and strike the decisive blow.

The cohorts, which were left to defend the camp, for some time made a formidable resistance, particularly a great number of Thracians and other barbarians, who were appointed for that purpose; but nothing could resist the ardour of Cæsar's victorious army; the enemy were at last driven from the trenches, and they all fled to the mountains. Cæsar, seeing the field and camp strewn with his fallen countrymen, was strongly affected at the melancholy prospect, and cried out to one that stood near, "They would have it so."

-Goldsmith's History of Rome.

SCENE FROM "JULIUS CÆSAR."
BY SHAKESPEARE.

BRUTUS.

MARK ANTONY. CITIZENS.

Brutus. Romans, countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my cause; and be silent, that you may hear: believe me for mine honour; and have respect to mine honour, that you may believe: censure me in your wisdom; and awake your senses, that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Cæsar's, to him I say, that Brutus' love to Cæsar was no less than his. If then that friend demand why Brutus rose against Cæsar, this is my answer,—Not

that I loved Cæsar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Cæsar were living, and die all slaves; than that Cæsar were dead, to live all free-men? As Cæsar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honour him: but, as he was ambitious, I slew him there are tears, for his love; joy, for his fortune; honour, for his valour; and death, for his ambition. Who is here so base that would be a bondman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so rude that would not be a Roman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so vile that will not love his country? If any, speak; for him have I offended. I pause for a reply. Citizens. None, Brutus, none.

[Several speaking at once. Bru. Then none have I offended. I have done no more to Cæsar than you shall do to Brutus. The question of his death is enrolled in the Capitol: his glory not extenuated, wherein he was worthy; nor his offences enforced, for which he suffered death.

Enter ANTONY and others, with CESAR's body. Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony; who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth. As which of you shall not? With this I depart: that, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death.

Cits. Live, Brutus, live! live!

1st. Cit. Bring him with triumph home unto his house. 2nd. Cit. Give him a statue with his ancestors. 3rd. Cit. Let him be Cæsar.

ANTONY'S funeral oration over the body of JULIUS CESAR.

Ant. Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Cæsar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones;