llowed to stand as consul, in his absence, although he had never
been tribune or praetor. The Senate put difficulties in his way. Indeed
they did everything they could to irritate Pompeius and give him the
excuse for taking the strong line they dreaded. Only Julius Caesar, the
young and rapidly rising leader of the Popular party, backed him. The
Senate refused to allow Pompeius to stand for the consulship. Nepos, his
emissary, would actually have been killed in the streets if Caesar had
not saved him. Caesar pleased him by proposing that he should finish
rebuilding the Capitol.

The Senate's fears were groundless, as Caesar knew. Pompeius was not
like Sulla. Sulla always knew what he wanted. Pompeius had no clear aim.
Opportunities lay open before him which he did not desire or know how to
use. He wanted to be important, a big man of whom people spoke well, to
whom they looked up; but his timid mind shrank from responsibility. He
had never been fired by any great idea; he had no purpose that he wanted
to impress upon the world. He had not even got that harsh and cold
contempt for the mass of mankind that caused Sulla to feel a sort of
bitter pleasure in imposing his will upon them. Of Caesar's fire he had
nothing. Politically he had never taken a firm line. If no one in Rome
quite knew where he stood, Pompeius was in the same doubt himself. His
was a respectable nature with a natural inclination towards safety. But
in the Rome of his day things were in a state of uneasy movement; there
was no safety or quiet for any one who wanted at the same time to be a
big figure. Pompeius was later forced to take action. This action was
weak and irresolute because his mind had never been clear. Most people
are like Pompeius: they do not know what they want; or they want
something vague, like happiness or the good opinion of others; or they
want a number of things which cannot be had together. The mark of those
men who stand out in history is that they conceived clearly something
they wanted to have or do; and by force of will drove through to it.
Even when they failed, as Hannibal, for instance, failed, their failure
has in it something more magnificent than ordinary success. But this
power to will implies a readiness to make sacrifices. If you want one
thing you must be prepared to do without others. If you want to please
yourself you must be ready to displease other people. You cannot have
your own way and at the same time have the