conservative, out-of-date and malcontent in the eyes of the young; a drama, petty and common, which no one longer regards, so frequent is it and so frivolous it seems, but which, instead, is one of the greatest motive forces in human history—­in greater or less degree, under different forms, active in all times and operating everywhere.  On account of it no generation can live quietly on the wealth gathered, with the ideas discovered by antecedent generations, but is constrained to create new ideas, to make new and greater wealth by all the means at its disposal—­by war and conquest, by agriculture and industry, by religion and science.  On account of it, families, classes, nations, that do not succeed in adding to their possessions, are destined to be impoverished, because, wants increasing, it is necessary, in order to satisfy them, to consume the accumulated capital, to make debts, and, little by little, to go to ruin.  Because of this ambition, ever reborn, classes renew themselves in every nation.  Opulent families after a few generations are gradually impoverished; they decay and disappear, and from the multitudinous poor arise new families, creating the new elite which continues under differing forms the doings and traditions of the old.  Because of this unrest, the earth is always stirred up by a fervour for deeds or adventure—­attempts that take shape according to the age:  now peoples make war on each other, now they rend themselves in revolutions, now they seek new lands, explore, conquer, exploit; again they perfect arts and industries, enlarge commerce, cultivate the earth with greater assiduity; and yet again, in the ages more laborious, like ours, they do all these things at the same time—­an activity immense and continuous.  But its motive force is always the need of the new generations, that, starting from the point at which their predecessors had arrived, desire to advance yet farther—­to enjoy, to know, to possess yet more.

The ancient writers understood this thoroughly:  what they called “corruption” was but the change in customs and wants, proceeding from generation to generation, and in its essence the same as that which takes place about us to-day.  The avaritia of which they complained so much, was the greed and impatience to make money that we see to-day setting all classes beside themselves, from noble to day-labourer; the ambitio that appeared to the ancients to animate so frantically even the classes that ought to have been most immune, was what we call getting there—­the craze to rise at any cost to a condition higher than that in which one was born, which so many writers, moralists, statesmen, judge, rightly or wrongly, to be one of the most dangerous maladies of the modern world. Luxuria was the desire to augment personal conveniences, luxuries, pleasures—­the same passion that stirs Europe and America to-day from top to bottom, in city and country.  Without doubt, wealth grew in ancient Rome and grows to-day; men were bent on making money in the last two centuries of the Republic, and to-day they rush headlong into the delirious struggle for gold; for reasons and motives, however, and with arms and accoutrements, far diverse.