It is for these reasons that the names of some 200,000 citizens stood upon a list to receive each month an allowance of corn—­apparently between six and seven bushels—­at the expense of the imperial treasury.  This quantity they took away and made into bread as best they could.  In many cases doubtless they sold it to the bakers and others.  It must be added that, apart from the free distribution, the imperial stores contained quantities of grain which could always be purchased at a low rate.  Occasionally a dole of money was added; in one case Nero gave over L2 per man.  Meanwhile there was water in abundance to be had for nothing, brought by the carefully kept aqueducts into numerous fountains conveniently placed throughout the city.  While, however, we must recognise that the number of idlers was very large, we must be careful not to exaggerate.  It is absurd to assume, as some have done, that because 200,000 citizens are receiving free corn there are 200,000 unemployed.  The Roman emperors never intended to put a premium on laziness, but only to deal with poverty.  In order to receive your dole of corn it was not necessary to show that you were starving, but only that you were entitled, or in other words, on the list.  It is also a mistake to think that any chance arrival among the Roman olla podrida could claim his bushel and a half of corn a week.  In any case only Roman citizens could participate.  All the poorest workers, whether actually employed or not, could take their corn with the rest.  Nor must we forget that among the unemployed there were a considerable number who were, for one reason or another, only temporarily out of work.  Nevertheless, it requires no study of political economy to know, nor were Roman statesmen blind to see, that the best way to make men cease to work is to show them that they can live, however shabbily, without.  The really surprising thing is perhaps that the Roman government, with its immense funds and resources, stopped short where it did.  An unsound economic system had brought about difficult conditions, with which the emperors and their advisers dealt as best they could.

It was inevitable that among so numerous a pampered rabble, and so many impoverished aliens who tried their fortunes in the capital, there should be beggars in considerable numbers.  We cannot tell precisely how many they were.  You might find them on the bridges, where they marked, as it were, a “stand” for themselves and crouched on a mat, or at the gates, or wherever carriages must proceed slowly on the highroads near the city, as for instance up the slope of the Appian Way as it passed over the south-western spur of the Alban Hills.  Other towns would be infested in the same manner.  Nor were thieves and footpads wanting in the streets or highwaymen upon the roads, especially in the lonelier parts near the marshes between Rome and the Bay of Naples.  The city was, indeed, liberally policed, but Roman streets, as we have seen, were for the most part narrow, crooked, and unlighted at night.  As usual, it was the comparatively poor who suffered from the street robber; the rich, with their torches and retinue, could always protect themselves.