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Discussions of the constitution of the Principate are usually focused on the powers of the emperor, and relatively little attention is given to the role of the senate; by exception much has been written on its jurisdiction, with which I shall not be concerned. Despite his theory of a dyarchy of emperor and senate, which I do not wish to revive, Mommsen, partly because he devoted separate volumes to each, did I not exhibit the extent to which Augustus and Tiberius at least worked through the senate, and on occasions attributed to them legal powers to act by their own authority, when in reality (as I shall argue) they caused the senate to take action as the only proper means of effecting their wishes. More recently, F. de Martino in his admirable account of the Principate dedicates only one out of twenty-seven chapters to the composition, functions and procedure of the senate. For Syme it was simply an ‘organ that advertised or confirmed the decisions of the government’. This description does not bring out the truth that it was performing a role essential to Augustus' design. For though in effect he founded a monarchy, he commonly thought it expedient on necessary obtain for his measures senatorial approval. That this was the practice of Tiberius in his early years is clearly attested, and some suppose that he behaved in an entirely different manner from Augustus. This view seems to be mistaken, and the mistake is of some consequence.

The modern historian of Greece and Rome often depends for his information on writings whose reliability is no greater, though often much less, than that of the histories, now lost in whole or part, which their authors followed. The quality of these histories can sometimes be detected from the internal evidence of the extant derivative accounts, even when we cannot name the historians with any certainty.

Some years ago I maintained that the common people in the city of Rome had to earn much of their living in casual employment, partly for instance in the unloading and porterage of goods that arrived by sea, partly in the building trade. This hypothesis cannot be established by the accumulation of literary or epigraphic testimony, nor from archaeological material, though I shall argue later that none the less it must be accepted; however, I did adduce two texts which, I thought, did not so much confirm as illustrate the use of free labourers in building. Professor Lionel Casson, who seems to disbelieve the hypothesis altogether, has recently shown that my inference from one of these texts (Cicero, ad Atticum XIV, 3, 1) was novel and somewhat arbitrary; though I do not concede that it was necessarily incorrect, I therefore withdraw it from the debate. I might of course have cited certain other texts considered below (n. 89); there remains in any case, however, the famous passage in Suetonius, of which I took a conventional view and of which he now proposes a quite new interpretation. This seems to me impossible. Let us start by examining it, before coming to more general considerations.

Before A.D. 70 the prefecture of Egypt was the greatest prize in an equestrian career—four praetorian prefects were promoted to it—and thereafter it ranked only just below the praetorian prefecture, to which no fewer than fourteen governors of Egypt were advanced between 70 and 235. In the other great provinces of the empire legati Augusti pro praetore could leave finance to the procurators, while proconsuls perhaps soon came to retain little of their original responsibility for the collection of taxes, and had no army to command. The prefect of Egypt combined fiscal with military and judicial functions. So did the presidial procurators of such areas as Mauretania or Noricum, but the importance of Egypt and the complexity of its administration set the prefect far above them. Egypt was probably the most populous province in the empire and contributed more than any other to the revenues, partly in grain that provided much of Rome's essential food, and its exploitation was a vast public enterprise of which the prefect was the managing director. He also had to do justice not only under Roman law but under the traditional laws of the native Egyptians and of the Greek settlers, among subjects who were both litigious and turbulent. Only defence against external attack was a simpler problem than in other frontier regions.

From the first Augustus employed Equites in military and civil posts (Dio LIII 15). The number of such posts multiplied in the course of time, and finally in the third century Equites supplanted senators in positions of the highest responsibility. In general ancient authors almost ignore the inception and development of the equestrian service. Dio makes Maecenas advocate the use of Equites by arguing that the emperor needed numerous assistants and that it was advisable that as many persons as possible, evidently from the higher classes, should feel that they had a share in the government (LII 19; 25). Modern scholars offer various explanations. It is clear that there were too few senators to fill the army commissions that went to Equites. Some equestrian posts were also below senatorial dignity. But others equalled or surpassed in importance those still reserved to senators. On one view the emperors, aiming at greater efficiency, found among the Equites more professional expertise; on another, they could better rely on the political loyalty of the lower order. Stein combined these theories: Augustus ‘called to life an admirable profession of officials (Beamtenstand) which performed its functions with distinction and which could at the same time unlike the senate never threaten the Princeps’; it was ‘an efficient and willing instrument of the autocrat’. For Hirschfeld its triumph in the third century marked the culmination of ‘the three hundred years’ long struggle between senate and emperor’. Individual emperors to whom the creation of particular posts is assigned (often with little justification) are supposed to have deliberately furthered this process. I can find no deep design nor overall plan, either in the arrangements made by Augustus (some of which were suggested by practices of the previous generation), or in those of his successors, but only a series of expedients to meet varying needs and the development of precedents, which ultimately produced the appearance of a system.

If great men were the driving force in historical development, the history of antiquity according to Beloch could not be written; our knowledge of their actions is incomplete and their personalities are virtually unknown. ‘In the best case we have only a couple of anecdotes of altogether dubious value, but almost never a line from their own hand; the first and nearly the last of whose character we can form a picture in some degree adequate is Cicero; apart from him we may perhaps count Julian, who already stands on the threshold of a new age.’ In this judgement there are obvious exaggerations, but its truth in many instances is beyond question, and those historians who feel obliged to hold that the course of history is not entirely determined by impersonal factors, which may also be no better known, must acknowledge that any reconstruction of developments in the ancient world is speculative to a greater degree than for some more recent periods.

In the heyday of British imperialism some fifty years ago, when Lord Cromer could find that the empire was “the main title which makes us great”, imperialists were apt to compare the British with the Roman empire and to seek “in the history of imperial Rome for any facts or commentaries gleaned from ancient times which might be of service to the modern empire of which we are so justly proud”.1 A critic of imperialism, J. A. Hobson, sourly remarked of such enterprises that “history devises reasons why the lessons of past empires do not apply to our own”. Prima facie, however, the comparison was encouraging. Both the Romans and the modern imperial powers claimed that it was their purpose to govern in the interests of the subjects; both had undoubtedly established peace and order in a large part of the world; both had extended their own law and their own civilization.

Few Roman documents have been more discussed than the great bronze tablet which Cola di Rienzo discovered and erected in the Church of St. John Lateran, and which preserves the latter part of a grant of powers made to Vespasian by senate and people. Does it relate to his tribunician power or to his imperium, or does it merely confer on him supplementary rights? Is the grant tralatician in character, or is it specifically designed to enlarge, or to limit, the imperial power of Vespasian? Does it explain the later juristic doctrines that the emperor could himself make law and was not bound to obey the existing laws? I shall argue that the document preserves part of the senatus consultum passed when Vespasian was first recognized at Rome in December 69; that with one possible exception in the final clause it is tralatician, probably going back to A.D. 37 but incorporating additional prerogatives conferred on Claudius and emperors between Claudius and Vespasian (Part I); and that it is indeed the basis of the juristic doctrines mentioned (Part II). A few remarks are appended on its relevance to the political theory by which imperial autocracy could be justified (Part III).

The wide circulation of Stoic ideas among Romans of the upper class from the time of Panaetius in the second century B.C. to the reign of Marcus Aurelius (A.D. 161–80) is a familiar fact. Few Romans of note can indeed be marked down as committed Stoics, and even those like Seneca who avowedly belonged to the school borrowed ideas from other philosophies. Still, even if eclecticism was the mode, the Stoic element was dominant. Stoicism permeated the writings of authors like Virgil and Horace who professed no formal allegiance to the sect, and became part of the culture that men absorbed in their early education. One might think that it exercised an influence comparable in some degree with that which Christianity has often had on men ignorant or careless of the nicer points of systematic theology. It has often been supposed that it did much to humanize Roman law and government. That is a contention of which I should be rather sceptical, but it is not my present theme.