to itself, and its very best men reckoned themselves
bound, at least for their own part, to oppose the
dreadful maladministration in the provinces.
The most resolute in this respect was Quintus Mucius
Scaevola, like his father Publius -pontifex maximus-
and in 659 consul, the foremost jurist and one of
the most excellent men of his time. As praetorian
governor (about 656) of Asia, the richest and worst-abused
of all the provinces, he—in concert with
his older friend, distinguished as an officer, jurist,
and historian, the consular Publius Rutilius Rufus—
set a severe and deterring example. Without making
any distinction between Italians and provincials,
noble and ignoble, he took up every complaint, and
not only compelled the Roman merchants and state-lessees
to give full pecuniary compensation for proven injuries,
but, when some of their most important and most unscrupulous
agents were found guilty of crimes deserving death,
deaf to all offers of bribery he ordered them to be
duly crucified. The senate approved his conduct,
and even made it an instruction afterwards to the
governors of Asia that they should take as their model
the principles of Scaevola’s administration;
but the equites, although they did not venture to
meddle with that highly aristocratic and influential
statesman himself, brought to trial his associates
and ultimately (about 662) even the most considerable
of them, his legate Publius Rufus, who was defended
only by his merits and recognized integrity, not by
family connection. The charge that such a man
had allowed himself to perpetrate exactions in Asia,
almost broke down under its own absurdity and under
the infamy of the accuser, one Apicius; yet the welcome
opportunity of humbling the consular was not allowed
to pass, and, when the latter, disdaining false rhetoric,
mourning robes, and tears, defended himself briefly,
simply, and to the point, and proudly refused the
homage which the sovereign capitalists desired, he
was actually condemned, and his moderate property was
confiscated to satisfy fictitious claims for compensation.
The condemned resorted to the province which he was
alleged to have plundered, and there, welcomed by
all the communities with honorary deputations, and
praised and beloved during his lifetime, he spent in
literary leisure his remaining days. And this
disgraceful condemnation, while perhaps the worst,
was by no means the only case of the sort. The
senatorial party was exasperated, not so much perhaps
by such abuse of justice in the case of men of stainless
walk but of new nobility, as by the fact that the
purest nobility no longer sufficed to cover possible
stains on its honour. Scarcely was Rufus out
of the country, when the most respected of all aristocrats,
for twenty years the chief of the senate, Marcus Scaurus
at seventy years of age was brought to trial for exactions;
a sacrilege according to aristocratic notions, even
if he were guilty. The office of accuser began
to be exercised professionally by worthless fellows,