judicial system—which every well-ordered
state will endeavour as far as possible to place, if
not above political parties, at any rate aloof from
them—into the midst of the whirlpool of
revolution. Certainly the blame of these conflicting
tendencies in Gaius Gracchus is chargeable to a very
great extent on his position rather than on himself
personally. On the very threshold of the -tyrannis-
he was confronted by the fatal dilemma, moral and
political, that the same man had at one and the same
time to maintain his ground, we may say, as a robber-chieftain
and to lead the state as its first citizen—a
dilemma to which Pericles, Caesar, and Napoleon had
also to make dangerous sacrifices. But the conduct
of Gaius Gracchus cannot be wholly explained from
this necessity; along with it there worked in him the
consuming passion, the glowing revenge, which foreseeing
its own destruction hurls the firebrand into the house
of the foe. He has himself expressed what he
thought of his ordinance as to the jurymen and similar
measures intended to divide the aristocracy; he called
them daggers which he had thrown into the Forum that
the burgesses—the men of rank, obviously—might
lacerate each other with them. He was a political
incendiary. Not only was the hundred years’
revolution which dates from him, so far as it was
one man’s work, the work of Gaius Gracchus,
but he was above all the true founder of that terrible
urban proletariate flattered and paid by the classes
above it, which through its aggregation in the capital—the
natural consequence of the largesses of corn—became
at once utterly demoralized and aware of its power,
and which—with its demands, sometimes stupid,
sometimes knavish, and its talk of the sovereignty
of the people—lay like an incubus for five
hundred years upon the Roman commonwealth and only
perished along with it And yet—this greatest
of political transgressors was in turn the regenerator
of his country. There is scarce a structural
idea in Roman monarchy, which is not traceable to
Gaius Gracchus. From him proceeded the maxim—founded
doubtless in a certain sense in the nature of the
old traditional laws of war, but yet, in the extension
and practical application now given to it, foreign
to the older state-law—that all the land
of the subject communities was to be regarded as the
private property of the state; a maxim, which was
primarily employed to vindicate the right of the state
to tax that land at pleasure, as was the case in Asia,
or to apply it for the institution of colonies, as
was done in Africa, and which became afterwards a
fundamental principle of law under the empire.
From him proceeded the tactics, whereby demagogues
and tyrants, leaning for support on material interests,
break down the governing Aristocracy, but subsequently
legitimize the change of constitution by substituting
a strict and efficient administration for the previous
misgovernment. To him, in particular, are traceable
the first steps towards such a reconciliation between