There were vast public interests, too, at stake, of which, however,
he probably thought but little. It proved, in the end, that
the history of the whole Roman world, for several centuries, was
depending upon the manner in which the question now in Cesar's mind
should turn.

There was a little bridge across the Rubicon at the point where
Cesar was surveying it. While he was standing there, the story
is, a peasant or shepherd came from the neighboring fields with
a shepherd's pipe--a simple musical instrument made of a reed and
used much by the rustic musicians of those days. The soldiers and
some of the officers gathered around him to hear him play. Among
the rest came some of Cesar's trumpeters, with their trumpets in
their hands. The shepherd took one of these martial instruments
from the hands of its possessor, laying aside his own, and began
to sound a charge--which is a signal for a rapid advance--and to
march at the same time over the bridge. "An omen! a prodigy!" said
Cesar. "Let us march where we are called by such a divine intimation.
_The die is cast._"

So saying, he pressed forward over the bridge, while the officers,
breaking up the encampment, put the columns in motion to follow
him.

It was shown abundantly, on many occasions in the course of Cesar's
life, that he had no faith in omens. There are equally numerous
instances to show that he was always ready to avail himself of the
popular belief in them, to awaken his soldiers' ardor or to allay
their fears. Whether, therefore, in respect to this story of the