We can only judge his varied literary talents by his “Commentaries On the Gallic War” in seven books, and “On the Civil War” in three, known to all schoolboys and college students. The former dictated amidst anxiety and distraction were intended to show his ability and courage as a general, to justify the moderation of his Gallic policy, and to forestall attacks by political opponents. Written in the third person, their modesty dispels the suspicion of egoism, yet the author knew how, without violating the truth and without boasting, to display his merits to the greatest possible advantage. The language is simple and restrained yet vigorous and clear. There are thrilling moments, for example, in the description of the ever-threatening danger of Sabinus, or the exciting escape of Cicero, when the fort of Aduatuca was endangered by a swoop of German marauders. Throughout the story the natives, with their inferior civilization, their perfidies and duplicities, are mere pigmies in the clutches of a giant. Like an irresistible force of nature, the great Roman tramples down everything in his path. The same impassive restraint is shown in the “Civil War.” The work contains fewer thrilling events; but dramatic movements like the crossing of the Rubicon, grievances at the hands of his enemies, and his frequent overtures for peace seldom fail to awaken the reader’s sympathy. The word “commentaries,” applied to these books, signifies merely “notes,” as the author himself regarded them; but in the judgment of after ages they are model historical narratives.