To raise the money he despatched his attendants to different cities, and in the meantime remained, with only one friend and two servants, among these people, who considered murder a trifle. Cæsar, however, held them in great contempt, and used, whenever he went to sleep, to send them an order to keep silence. Thus he lived among them thirty-eight days, as if they had been his guards rather than his keepers.

Perfectly fearless and self-possessed, he joined in their diversions, and took his exercises among them. He wrote poems and orations, and rehearsed them to these pirates; and when they expressed no admiration, he called them dunces and barbarians—nay, he often threatened to crucify them. They were delighted with these freedoms, which they imputed to his frank and facetious vein. But as soon as the money was brought for his ransom, and he had recovered his liberty, he manned some vessels in the port of Miletus, in order to attack these corsairs. He found them still lying at anchor by the island, took most of them, together with the money he had paid them, and caused them to be imprisoned at Pergamus.

After this adventure, Cæsar took lessons of Appolonius Molo, of Rhodes, a celebrated teacher of rhetoric, who had been the instructor of Cicero. He here displayed great talents, especially in an aptitude for eloquence, in which he afterwards excelled. After this, he served under different generals in Asia, and upon the death of Sylla, returned to Rome, where he soon became conspicuous among the aspiring politicians of the day.

Rome was at this time a republic, in which there was a constant struggle for ascendency between the aristocracy and the democracy—between the privileged few and the people. Sylla had placed the former on a firm footing; for a time, therefore, Cæsar, who courted the people, took no open part, but looked calmly on, waiting and watching for his opportunity. He, however, seized every occasion to please and flatter the people; he gave expensive entertainments to which they were invited; he attached to his person the talented and enterprising young men; he distributed presents, paid compliments, and said a thousand pleasant things, calculated to flatter those whose favor he desired. He also made public speeches on various occasions, in all of which he avowed sentiments which gratified the plebeians. Thus beginning afar off and steadily approaching his object he was ere long in a situation to realize it. Cato, who had watched him carefully, discovered his dangerous ambition, but he could not prevent the success of his schemes.

At the age of thirty-one, he was chosen by the people, as one of the military tribunes, an office which gave him the command of a legion, or division in the army. The year following, he was quæstor, or receiver of public moneys in Spain; and in the year 68, having returned to Rome, he was chosen edile—an office which gave him charge of the public buildings.

In this situation, he had an opportunity to indulge his taste for magnificence and display; at the same time, he gratified the people. He beautified the city with public edifices and gave splendid exhibitions of wild beasts and gladiators.

He was now thirty-five years old, and being desirous of military glory, he sought a command in Egypt. He offered himself as a candidate—but failed. The next year he took his measures more carefully. The corruption of the voters of Rome, at that time, was such as to excite our disgust. On the day of election, there were stalls, openly kept, where the votes of the freemen were bought, with as little shame, as if they had been common merchandise. We hardly know which most to despise, the crafty leaders, who thus corrupted the people, or the venal voters, who abused and degraded the dearest of privileges.

Though Cæsar was from the beginning a professed champion of the democracy, yet the manner in which he treated those whose support he sought, showed that his designs were selfish; that he wished to make the people instruments of his ambition. A man who will flatter the mass; use false, yet captivating arguments with them; appeal to their prejudices; fall in with their currents of feeling and opinion, even though they may be wrong, may profess democracy but he is at heart an aristocrat: he has no true love for the people; no confidence in them; he really despises them, and looks upon them but as the despicable tools of his ambition. Such was Cæsar, and such is always the popular demagogue. While nothing is more noble than a true democrat—a true well-wisher of the people—and one who honestly seeks to vindicate their rights, enlighten their minds, and elevate them in the scale of society; so nothing is more base than a selfish desire to govern them, hidden beneath the cloak of pretended democracy.

The measures of Cæsar were now so open, and his real character so obvious, that we should wonder at his success with the people, did we not know the power which flattery exerts over all mankind, and that when a man of rank and talents becomes a demagogue, he is usually more successful than other men. It was so, at least, with Cæsar. He courted the populace on all occasions; he distributed money with a lavish hand, particularly among the poorer voters.

After many intrigues, he obtained the office of prætor, at the end of a sharply contested election. This office was one of high dignity and trust. The prætor administered justice, protected the rights of widows and orphans—presided at public festivals was president of the senate, in the absence of the consul, and assembled or prorogued the senate at his pleasure. He also exhibited shows to the people, and in the festivals of Bona Dea, where none but women were admitted, his wife presided.