After a series of conflicts and violent political measures (inaugurated by the Gracchi, Saturninus, and others) and a short-lived victory of the democratic party under Marius and Cinna, a reaction in favour of aristocracy combined with the military dictatorship of an individual set in under Sulla, the ancient boundary lines of state and people having been swept away by the outcome of the Social War. The cardinal points of this reaction were the abolition of the initiative of the tribunate, and the strengthening of senatorial influence by appointing none but senators to magisterial office.
But this reaction, though carried through with ruthless severity, was the less capable of holding its ground from the fact that the old forms in which it was embodied were absolutely unsuited to the dimensions of the state and the geographical distribution of the people under the radical change of conditions brought about by the Social War. After the lapse of ten years the rights of the tribunate were restored. But from that time forth it placed itself at the head of the democratic and turbulent elements in the capital and its immediate neighbourhood, and so became a mere instrument in the hands of individual despots who attempted (sometimes by wealth, but more generally by deeds of arms and popularity with the soldiery) to build up a personal sway before which the tottering authority of the senate was forced to bow, in spite of the resistance offered by the aristocrats who (like Catulus and Hortensius) maintained the principles of Sulla, and of men who (like Cicero) based their influence on services of a peaceful character.
At length, having endured a civil war between the leaders of opposing factions, weary of discord and of struggles in which all political institutions had sunk to the level of empty and impotent forms liable to perpetual violation and abuse, the state found under an autocracy the repose and external order which the vast majority of the inhabitants of Italy were not unwilling to accept in exchange for a political life from participation in which they must have been virtually excluded, to a great extent, by the inadequacy of the forms in which it was embodied.b
We have now traced the progress and decline of the Roman constitution through its several stages. We have seen it pass from a monarchy into a patrician oligarchy, from a patrician oligarchy into a limited republic, from a limited republic into an oligarchy of wealth; and now, after a century of civil war, in which the state swayed from one extreme to the other, we close with the contemplation of an absolute despotism.[137] Every page of the latter portion of our narrative shows how inevitably events were tending to this issue. The Roman world had long been preparing for it. At no time had such authority been altogether alien from the minds of the people of Rome. Dictatorships were frequent in their earlier history. In later times the consuls were, by the will of the senate, raised to dictatorial power to meet emergencies, military or civil. The despotic commands conferred upon Sulla and Pompey, the powers seized first by Cæsar, and after him by the triumvirate, were all of the same form as the authority conferred upon Octavian—that is, all were, in form at least, temporary and provisional. The disorders of the state required the intervention of one or more persons of absolute authority. And whether power was vested in a dictator, such as Sulla and Cæsar; in a sole consul, such as Pompey; in a commission of three, such as the triumvirate of Antony, Octavian, and Lepidus; or in an imperator, such as Octavian alone, the constitutional principle was the same. These despotic powers were in every case, except in the cases of Sulla and Cæsar, granted for a definite term; even Cæsar’s first dictatorships were conferred for limited periods. The triumvirate was renewed at intervals of five years, the imperial rule of Octavian at intervals of ten. In theory these powers were conferred exceptionally, for a temporary purpose; and when the purpose was served, the exception was to yield to the rule. Even in the reign of Octavian there were some persons credulous enough to expect a restoration of the republic.
Octavian’s adroitness has often been commended. But he had many examples to warn and to guide him. Above all, the precedent of his uncle, the great dictator, proved that the Romans were not prepared to accept even order and good government at the price of royalty; and he dexterously avoided the danger. The cruelties of the triumviral proscription he was able to throw chiefly upon Antony. But these very cruelties stood him in stead; for they induced men to estimate at more than its real worth the clemency which distinguished his sole government. He avoided jealousy by assuming a power professedly only temporary.
The title by which he liked to be known was that of “prince”; for he revived in his own person the title princeps senatus, which had slept since the death of Catulus. But in fact he absorbed all the powers of the state. As imperator he exercised absolute control over the lives of all Roman citizens not within the limits of the city. As pontifex maximus, an office for which he waited patiently till the death of Lepidus, he controlled the religion of the state. He assumed the censorial power without a colleague to impede his action; thus he was able to revise at pleasure the register of the citizens and the list of the senate, promoting or degrading whom he pleased. He appropriated also the tribunician power; and thus the popular assembly was by a side blow deprived of vitality, for without its tribunes it was naught. Consuls were still elected to give name to the year; and the assembly of the centuries still met for the empty purpose of electing those whom the prince named. Often, indeed, several pairs were elected for one year, after a practice begun by the great dictator.
The name of Italy now at length assumed the significance which it still bears; for all free inhabitants of Cisalpine Gaul obtained the rights of Roman citizens. But little was done to repair the losses and decays of which we have spoken in former chapters. The military colonies planted by Sulla and Octavian had lowered its condition even beyond its former misery. Ancient and respectable citizens made way for reckless and profligate soldiery—such as the centurion who would have slain the poet Virgil. Our pity for the ejected inhabitants is somewhat lessened by the thought that all the civilised world was open to them, for all the world was Roman. Gaul, and Spain, and Sicily, and the provinces of the East, depopulated by long wars, gratefully received families of Italian citizens, who brought them their habits of civilised life, industry, and such property as they had saved from the ruin of their homes. Great as was the injustice of expelling these persons, the actual loss and suffering, after the pain of leaving home was over, must have been incalculably less than we, in the present condition of Europe, are apt to imagine. After the settlement of these colonies, it is probable that what could be done for the welfare of Italy was done by Augustus and his able ministers, Agrippa and Mæcenas. But the evils were too great and too recent to admit of palliation; and Italy probably never recovered from the effects of the Roman wars of conquest, till she received a new population from the north.