The Roman Assemblies

We are without well-certified records of the first period of Rome's existence; it even appears very probable that most of the stories told about it are fables; indeed, generally speaking, the most instructive part of the history of peoples, that which deals with their foundation, is what we have least of. Experience teaches us every day what causes lead to the revolutions of empires; but, as no new peoples are now formed, we have almost nothing beyond conjecture to go upon in explaining how they were created.

We have no reliable records of Rome's earliest years. It even seems very likely that most stories about those years are fables. Indeed, we generally know least about the most instructive part of a people's history: how they were founded. Experience teaches us every day what causes empires to undergo revolutions. But since no new peoples are now being formed, we have almost nothing but guesswork to explain how peoples began.

The customs we find established show at least that these customs had an origin. The traditions that go back to those origins, that have the greatest authorities behind them, and that are confirmed by the strongest proofs, should pass for the most certain. These are the rules I have tried to follow in inquiring how the freest and most powerful people on earth exercised its supreme power.

Established customs show at least that those customs had a beginning. Traditions tracing back to those beginnings should be considered the most certain when supported by the greatest authorities and strongest evidence. These are the rules I have tried to follow in studying the freest and most powerful people on earth. My aim was to understand how that people exercised its supreme power.

After the foundation of Rome, the new-born republic, that is, the army of its founder, composed of Albans, Sabines and foreigners, was divided into three classes, which, from this division, took the name of tribes. Each of these tribes was subdivided into ten curiæ, and each curia into decuriæ, headed by leaders called curiones and decuriones.

After Rome was founded, the new republic consisted of its founder’s army, made up of Albans, Sabines and foreigners. The army was divided into three groups, which took the name tribes from this division. Each tribe was divided into ten curiæ, and each curia into decuriæ. These units were headed by leaders called curiones and decuriones.

Besides this, out of each tribe was taken a body of one hundred Equites or Knights, called a century, which shows that these divisions, being unnecessary in a town, were at first merely military. But an instinct for greatness seems to have led the little township of Rome to provide itself in advance with a political system suitable for the capital of the world.

In addition, each tribe supplied a group of one hundred Equites or Knights, called a century. These divisions were unnecessary in a town, which shows that they were originally purely military. But an instinct for greatness seems to have guided the little town of Rome. Rome prepared itself in advance with a political system fit for the capital of the world.

Out of this original division an awkward situation soon arose. The tribes of the Albans (Ramnenses) and the Sabines (Tatienses) remained always in the same condition, while that of the foreigners (Luceres) continually grew as more and more foreigners came to live at Rome, so that it soon surpassed the others in strength. Servius remedied this dangerous fault by changing the principle of cleavage, and substituting for the racial division, which he abolished, a new one based on the quarter of the town inhabited by each tribe. Instead of three tribes he created four, each occupying and named after one of the hills of Rome. Thus, while redressing the inequality of the moment, he also provided for the future; and in order that the division might be one of persons as well as localities, he forbade the inhabitants of one quarter to migrate to another, and so prevented the mingling of the races.

This original division soon created an awkward situation. The tribes of the Albans (Ramnenses) and the Sabines (Tatienses) always stayed the same. But the tribe of the foreigners (Luceres) kept growing as more foreigners came to live in Rome. As a result, the Luceres soon became stronger than the other tribes. Servius corrected this dangerous flaw by changing the basis of the division. He abolished the division by race and replaced it with one based on the neighborhood each tribe inhabited. Instead of three tribes, he created four, each occupying one of Rome’s hills and taking its name from that hill. In this way, he corrected the existing inequality while also preparing for the future. To make the division apply to people as well as places, he banned residents from moving between neighborhoods. By doing so, he prevented the races from mixing.

He also doubled the three old centuries of Knights and added twelve more, still keeping the old names, and by this simple and prudent method, succeeded in making a distinction between the body of Knights and the people, without a murmur from the latter.

He also doubled the three old centuries of Knights and added twelve more, while keeping the old names. By this simple and careful method, he distinguished the Knights as a body from the people, without any public complaint.

To the four urban tribes Servius added fifteen others called rural tribes, because they consisted of those who lived in the country, divided into fifteen cantons. Subsequently, fifteen more were created, and the Roman people finally found itself divided into thirty-five tribes, as it remained down to the end of the Republic.

Servius added fifteen rural tribes to the four urban tribes. They were called rural tribes because their members lived in the countryside, divided into fifteen cantons. Later, fifteen more tribes were created, bringing the total to thirty-five. The Roman people remained divided into these thirty-five tribes until the end of the Republic.

The distinction between urban and rural tribes had one effect which is worth mention, both because it is without parallel elsewhere, and because to it Rome owed the preservation of her morality and the enlargement of her empire. We should have expected that the urban tribes would soon monopolise power and honours, and lose no time in bringing the rural tribes into disrepute; but what happened was exactly the reverse. The taste of the early Romans for country life is well known. This taste they owed to their wise founder, who made rural and military labours go along with liberty, and, so to speak, relegated to the town arts, crafts, intrigue, fortune and slavery.

The division between urban and rural tribes had one effect worth mentioning, partly because nothing like it happened elsewhere. It also deserves mention because Rome owed the preservation of its morals and the expansion of its empire to it. We might have expected the urban tribes to quickly take all power and honors for themselves. We might also have expected them to waste no time damaging the rural tribes’ reputation. But exactly the opposite happened. The early Romans’ love of country life is well known. They owed this love to their wise founder, who linked farming and military work with freedom. At the same time, he confined arts, crafts, intrigue, wealth, and slavery to the town, so to speak.

Since therefore all Rome's most illustrious citizens lived in the fields and tilled the earth, men grew used to seeking there alone the mainstays of the republic. This condition, being that of the best patricians, was honoured by all men; the simple and laborious life of the villager was preferred to the slothful and idle life of the bourgeoisie of Rome; and he who, in the town, would have been but a wretched proletarian, became, as a labourer in the fields, a respected citizen. Not without reason, says Varro, did our great-souled ancestors establish in the village the nursery of the sturdy and valiant men who defended them in time of war and provided for their Sustenance in time of peace. Pliny states positively that the country tribes were honoured because of the men of whom they were composed; while cowards men wished to dishonour were transferred, as a public disgrace, to the town tribes. The Sabine Appius Claudius, when he had come to settle in Rome, was loaded with honours and enrolled in a rural tribe, which subsequently took his family name. Lastly, freedmen always entered the urban, and never the rural, tribes: nor is there a single example, throughout the Republic, of a freedman, though he had become a citizen, reaching any magistracy.

All Rome's most distinguished citizens lived in the countryside and farmed the land. So people grew used to looking there alone for the republic's main supporters. Because the leading patricians lived this way, everyone honored this way of life. People preferred the villager's simple, hardworking life to the lazy, idle life of Rome's bourgeoisie. A man who would have been a poor proletarian in the city became a respected citizen by working the fields. Varro says our noble-minded ancestors had good reason to make the villages a breeding ground for strong, brave men. These men defended them in wartime and supplied their food in peacetime. Pliny states firmly that the rural tribes were honored because of the men who belonged to them. By contrast, cowards whom people wanted to disgrace were transferred to the urban tribes as a public humiliation. When the Sabine Appius Claudius came to settle in Rome, he received many honors and joined a rural tribe. That tribe later took his family name. Finally, freedmen always joined the urban tribes, never the rural ones. Throughout the Republic, not a single freedman ever held any public office, even though he had become a citizen.

This was an excellent rule; but it was carried so far that in the end it led to a change and certainly to an abuse in the political system.

This was an excellent rule. But it was taken so far that it eventually changed the political system and certainly led to abuse.

First the censors, after having for a long time claimed the right of transferring citizens arbitrarily from one tribe to another, allowed most persons to enrol themselves in whatever tribe they pleased. This permission certainly did no good, and further robbed the censorship of one of its greatest resources. Moreover, as the great and powerful all got themselves enrolled in the country tribes, while the freedmen who had become citizens remained with the populace in the town tribes, both soon ceased to have any local or territorial meaning, and all were so confused that the members of one could not be told from those of another except by the registers; so that the idea of the word tribe became personal instead of real, or rather came to be little more than a chimera.

First, the censors had long claimed the right to move citizens arbitrarily from one tribe to another. Then they allowed most people to enroll in whatever tribe they pleased. This permission certainly did no good. It also deprived the censors of one of their most important tools. Moreover, the rich and powerful all enrolled in the rural tribes. Meanwhile, formerly enslaved men who had become citizens remained with the common people in the urban tribes. As a result, both kinds of tribes soon lost any local or territorial meaning. The tribes became so mixed up that only the registers could distinguish the members of one tribe from another. So the word tribe came to refer to people rather than territory, or rather became little more than a fiction.

It happened in addition that the town tribes, being more on the spot, were often the stronger in the comitia and sold the State to those who stooped to buy the votes of the rabble composing them.

Also, because the town tribes were closer at hand, they often held more power in the comitia (assemblies). These tribes sold the State to those who stooped to buying the votes of the rabble that made up their ranks.

As the founder had set up ten curiæ in each tribe, the whole Roman people, which was then contained within the walls, consisted of thirty curia, each with its temples, its gods, its officers, its priests and its festivals, which were called compitalia and corresponded to the paganalia, held in later times by the rural tribes.

The founder had set up ten curiæ in each tribe. So the entire Roman people, then living within the city walls, were divided into thirty curia. Each had its own temples, gods, officers, priests, and festivals. These festivals were called compitalia and corresponded to the paganalia, held later by the rural tribes.

When Servius made his new division, as the thirty curiæ could not be shared equally between his four tribes, and as he was unwilling to interfere with them, they became a further division of the inhabitants of Rome, quite independent of the tribes: but in the case of the rural tribes and their members there was no question of curiæ as the tribes had then become a purely civil institution, and, a new system of levying troops having been introduced, the military divisions of Romulus were superfluous. Thus, although every citizen was enrolled in a tribe, there were very many who were not members of a curia.

When Servius introduced his new divisions, the thirty curiæ could not be divided equally among his four tribes. He was also unwilling to change the curiæ. So they became a separate way of dividing Rome’s inhabitants, entirely independent of the tribes. But the rural tribes and their members had no curiæ, since the tribes had become a purely civil institution. A new system of recruiting troops had also made the military divisions established by Romulus unnecessary. Thus, although every citizen belonged to a tribe, very many did not belong to a curia.

Servius made yet a third division, quite distinct from the two we have mentioned, which became, in its effects, the most important of all. He distributed the whole Roman people into six classes, distinguished neither by place nor by person, but by wealth; the first classes included the rich, the last the poor, and those between persons of moderate means. These six classes were subdivided into one hundred and ninety-three other bodies, called centuries, which were so divided that the first class alone comprised more than half of them, while the last comprised only one. Thus the class that had the smallest number of members had the largest number of centuries, and the whole of the last class only counted as a single subdivision, although it alone included more than half the inhabitants of Rome.

Servius made a third division, entirely separate from the two already mentioned. In its effects, this division became the most important of all. He divided the whole Roman people into six classes based on wealth, not location or personal identity. The first classes included the rich, the last the poor, and those in between people of moderate means. These six classes were subdivided into 193 groups called centuries. The centuries were distributed so that the first class alone had more than half, while the last had only one. Thus the class with the fewest members had the most centuries. The entire last class counted as only one subdivision, although that class alone included more than half of Rome’s inhabitants.

In order that the people might have the less insight into the results of this arrangement, Servius tried to give it a military tone: in the second class he inserted two centuries of armourers, and in the fourth two of makers of instruments of war: in each class, except the last, he distinguished young and old, that is, those who were under an obligation to bear arms and those whose age gave them legal exemption. It was this distinction, rather than that of wealth, which required frequent repetition of the census or counting. Lastly, he ordered that the assembly should be held in the Campus Martius, and that all who were of age to serve should come there armed.

To keep the people from fully understanding the effects of this arrangement, Servius tried to give it a military character. He added two centuries of armourers to the second class, and two centuries of war instrument makers to the fourth. In every class except the last, he separated the young from the old. The young were required to bear arms, while the old were legally exempt because of their age. This distinction by age, rather than by wealth, made it necessary to repeat the census, or population count, frequently. Finally, he ordered the assembly to meet in the Campus Martius. All those old enough for military service were to come armed.

The reason for his not making in the last class also the division of young and old was that the populace, of whom it was composed, was not given the right to bear arms for its country: a man had to possess a hearth to acquire the right to defend it, and of all the troops of beggars who to-day lend lustre to the armies of kings, there is perhaps not one who would not have been driven with scorn out of a Roman cohort, at a time when soldiers were the defenders of liberty.

He did not divide the last class into young and old because its common people had no right to bear arms for their country. A man had to own a home to earn the right to defend it. Today, troops of beggars bring glory to the armies of kings. Yet perhaps not one of those beggars would have escaped being scornfully driven out of a Roman cohort. That was when soldiers defended liberty.

In this last class, however, proletarians were distinguished from capite censi. The former, not quite reduced to nothing, at least gave the State citizens, and sometimes, when the need was pressing, even soldiers. Those who had nothing at all, and could be numbered only by counting heads, were regarded as of absolutely no account, and Marius was the first who stooped to enrol them.

In this last class, however, proletarians were distinguished from capite censi. The former had not quite lost everything and at least supplied the State with citizens. Sometimes, when the need was urgent, they even supplied soldiers. Those who had nothing at all could only be counted as heads and were considered utterly worthless. Marius was the first to stoop to recruiting them.

Without deciding now whether this third arrangement was good or bad in itself, I think I may assert that it could have been made practicable only by the simple morals, the disinterestedness, the liking for agriculture and the scorn for commerce and for love of gain which characterised the early Romans. Where is the modern people among whom consuming greed, unrest, intrigue, continual removals, and perpetual changes of fortune, could let such a system last for twenty years without turning the State upside down? We must indeed observe that morality and the censorship, being stronger than this institution, corrected its defects at Rome, and that the rich man found himself degraded to the class of the poor for making too much display of his riches.

I will not decide now whether this third arrangement was good or bad in itself. But I think I can say that only the early Romans’ qualities could have made the arrangement workable. These were their simple morals, selflessness, love of farming, and contempt for commerce and the pursuit of wealth. What modern people could sustain such a system for twenty years without turning the State upside down? How could they, with their consuming greed, restlessness, scheming, constant moves, and endless changes in fortune? We must recognize that in Rome, moral standards and the censors’ authority were stronger than this institution and corrected its flaws. A rich man who displayed his wealth too openly found himself demoted to the class of the poor.

From all this it is easy to understand why only five classes are almost always mentioned, though there were really six. The sixth, as it furnished neither soldiers to the army nor votes in the Campus Martius,¹ and was almost without function in the State, was seldom regarded as of any account.

From all this, it is easy to see why only five classes are almost always mentioned, although there were six. The sixth class supplied neither soldiers for the army nor votes in the Campus Martius,¹ and barely served any state function. For these reasons, it was rarely considered important.

These were the various ways in which the Roman people was divided. Let us now see the effect on the assemblies. When lawfully summoned, these were called comitia: they were usually held in the public square at Rome or in the Campus Martius, and were distinguished as Comitia Curiata, Comitia Centuriata, and Comitia Tributa, according to the form under which they were convoked. The Comitia Curiata were founded by Romulus; the Centuriata by Servius; and the Tributa by the tribunes of the people. No law received its sanction and no magistrate was elected, save in the comitia; and as every citizen was enrolled in a curia, a century, or a tribe, it follows that no citizen was excluded from the right of voting, and that the Roman people was truly sovereign both de jure and de facto.

These were the various ways the Roman people were divided. Let us now see how these divisions affected the assemblies. When legally called together, these assemblies were called comitia. They usually met in Rome’s public square or in the Campus Martius. They were called Comitia Curiata, Comitia Centuriata, and Comitia Tributa, depending on how they were organized. The Comitia Curiata were founded by Romulus, the Centuriata by Servius, and the Tributa by the tribunes of the people. No law was approved and no magistrate was elected except in the comitia. Every citizen belonged to a curia, a century, or a tribe, so no citizen was denied the right to vote. It follows that the Roman people were truly sovereign both de jure and de facto.

For the comitia to be lawfully assembled, and for their acts to have the force of law, three conditions were necessary. First, the body or magistrate convoking them had to possess the necessary authority; secondly, the assembly had to be held on a day allowed by law; and thirdly, the auguries had to be favourable.

Three conditions were necessary for the comitia to meet legally and for their decisions to have the force of law. First, the body or magistrate calling the assembly had to have the authority to do so. Second, the assembly had to meet on a day permitted by law. Third, the auguries had to show favorable omens.

The reason for the first regulation needs no explanation; the second is a matter of policy. Thus, the comitia might not be held on festivals or market-days, when the country-folk, coming to Rome on business, had not time to spend the day in the public square. By means of the third, the senate held in check the proud and restive people, and meetly restrained the ardour of seditious tribunes, who, however, found more than one way of escaping this hindrance.

The reason for the first rule needs no explanation. The second is a matter of policy. Under the second rule, the comitia could not meet on festival days or market days. Country people came to Rome on business then and had no time to spend the day in the public square. Through the third rule, the senate kept the proud and restless people in check. The rule also properly curbed the zeal of rebellious tribunes. However, the tribunes found more than one way around the restriction.

Laws and the election of rulers were not the only questions submitted to the judgment of the comitia: as the Roman people had taken on itself the most important functions of government, it may be said that the lot of Europe was regulated in its assemblies. The variety of their objects gave rise to the various forms these took, according to the matters on which they had to pronounce.

Laws and the election of rulers were not the only matters submitted to the comitia, the Roman people's assemblies. The Roman people had taken on the most important functions of government. Because of this, one may say that Europe's fate was decided in these assemblies. The assemblies took different forms because they dealt with different subjects. Each form depended on the matters the assemblies had to decide.

In order to judge of these various forms, it is enough to compare them. Romulus, when he set up curiæ, had in view the checking of the senate by the people, and of the people by the senate, while maintaining his ascendancy over both alike. He therefore gave the people, by means of this assembly, all the authority of numbers to balance that of power and riches, which he left to the patricians. But, after the spirit of monarchy, he left all the same a greater advantage to the patricians in the influence of their clients on the majority of votes. This excellent institution of patron and client was a masterpiece of statesmanship and humanity without which the patriciate, being flagrantly in contradiction to the republican spirit, could not have survived. Rome alone has the honour of having given to the world this great example, which never led to any abuse, and yet has never been followed.

To judge these various forms, we need only compare them. When Romulus established the curiæ, he intended the people to check the senate, and the senate to check the people. At the same time, he meant to maintain his dominance over both. Through this assembly, he therefore gave the people all the authority that comes from numbers. This balanced the authority of power and wealth, which he left to the patricians. But, in keeping with the spirit of monarchy, he still gave the patricians a greater advantage. Their clients influenced the majority of votes. This excellent system of patrons and clients was a masterpiece of statesmanship and humanity. Without this system, the patrician class could not have survived, since its existence blatantly contradicted the republican spirit. Rome alone has the honor of giving the world this great example. The system never led to any abuse, yet it has never been copied.

As the assemblies by curiæ persisted under the kings till the time of Servius, and the reign of the later Tarquin was not regarded as legitimate, royal laws were called generally leges curiatæ.

Assemblies organized by curiæ continued under the kings until the time of Servius. And the reign of the later Tarquin was not considered legitimate. For these reasons, royal laws were generally called leges curiatæ.

Under the Republic, the curiæ still confined to the four urban tribes, and including only the populace of Rome, suited neither the senate, which led the patricians, nor the tribunes, who, though plebeians, were at the head of the well-to-do citizens. They therefore fell into disrepute, and their degradation was such, that thirty lictors used to assemble and do what the Comitia Curiata should have done.

Under the Republic, the curiæ were still limited to the four urban tribes and included only Rome’s common people. They suited neither the senate, which led the patricians, nor the tribunes. Although plebeians themselves, the tribunes led the wealthy citizens. The curiæ therefore lost respect. They sank so low that thirty lictors would meet and carry out the duties of the Comitia Curiata.

The division by centuries was so favourable to the aristocracy that it is hard to see at first how the senate ever failed to carry the day in the comitia bearing their name, by which the consuls, the censors and the other curule magistrates were elected. Indeed, of the hundred and ninety-three centuries into which the six classes of the whole Roman people were divided, the first class contained ninety-eight; and, as voting went solely by centuries, this class alone had a majority over all the rest. When all these centuries were in agreement, the rest of the votes were not even taken; the decision of the smallest number passed for that of the multitude, and it may be said that, in the Comitia Centuriata, decisions were regulated far more by depth of purses than by the number of votes.

The division into centuries so strongly favored the aristocracy that, at first, it is hard to understand the senate’s defeats. How did the senate ever lose in the comitia named after these centuries? These assemblies elected the consuls, the censors, and the other curule magistrates. The entire Roman people were divided into six classes, comprising 193 centuries. Of these, the first class contained 98. Since votes were counted only by century, the first class alone had a majority over all the others combined. When all the centuries in the first class agreed, the remaining votes were not even taken. The decision of the few passed for the decision of the many. So it may be said that, in the Comitia Centuriata, wealth mattered far more than the number of votes.

But this extreme authority was modified in two ways. First, the tribunes as a rule, and always a great number of plebeians, belonged to the class of the rich, and so counterbalanced the influence of the patricians in the first class.

But this extreme authority was limited in two ways. First, the tribunes usually belonged to the wealthy class, and many plebeians always did. Together, these wealthy tribunes and plebeians counterbalanced the influence of the patricians in the first class.

The second way was this. Instead of causing the centuries to vote throughout in order, which would have meant beginning always with the first, the Romans always chose one by lot which proceeded alone to the election; after this all the centuries were summoned another day according to their rank, and the same election was repeated, and as a rule confirmed. Thus the authority of example was taken away from rank, and given to the lot on a democratic principle.

The second method worked as follows. Rather than have the centuries vote in rank order, the Romans always chose one century by lot to vote alone first. Voting in rank order would have meant always starting with the highest-ranking century. All the centuries were then called together another day, in order of rank. The election was repeated and usually confirmed the earlier result. In this way, the power to set an example shifted from rank to chance, following a democratic principle.

From this custom resulted a further advantage. The citizens from the country had time, between the two elections, to inform themselves of the merits of the candidate who had been provisionally nominated, and did not have to vote without knowledge of the case. But, under the pretext of hastening matters, the abolition of this custom was achieved, and both elections were held on the same day.

This custom had another advantage. Between the two elections, citizens from the countryside had time to learn about the provisionally nominated candidate’s merits. They therefore did not have to vote without knowing the facts. But the custom was abolished on the pretext of speeding things up, and both elections were held on the same day.

The Comitia Tributa were properly the council of the Roman people. They were convoked by the tribunes alone; at them the tribunes were elected and passed their plebiscita. The senate not only had no standing in them, but even no right to be present; and the senators, being forced to obey laws on which they could not vote, were in this respect less free than the meanest citizens. This injustice was altogether ill-conceived, and was alone enough to invalidate the decrees of a body to which all its members were not admitted. Had all the patricians attended the comitia by virtue of the right they had as citizens, they would not, as mere private individuals, have had any considerable influence on a vote reckoned by counting heads, where the meanest proletarian was as good as the princeps senatus.

The Comitia Tributa were the true council of the Roman people. Only the tribunes could call these assemblies, where the tribunes were elected and passed their plebiscita. The senate had no official role in these assemblies, nor even the right to attend. Senators were forced to obey laws they could not vote on. In this respect, senators were less free than the lowliest citizens. This injustice was entirely misguided. It alone was enough to invalidate the decisions of a body that excluded some of its own members. Suppose all the patricians had attended the comitia, exercising their rights as citizens. As private individuals, they would not have had any considerable influence on a vote decided by counting individual votes. In such a vote, the lowliest proletarian counted as much as the princeps senatus.

It may be seen, therefore, that besides the order which was achieved by these various ways of distributing so great a people and taking its votes, the various methods were not reducible to forms indifferent in themselves, but the results of each were relative to the objects which caused it to be preferred.

We can therefore see that these different ways of organizing so large a population and collecting votes created order. But the methods were not merely neutral procedures. Each produced results suited to the aims for which it was chosen.

Without going here into further details, we may gather from what has been said above that the Comitia Tributa were the most favourable to popular government, and the Comitia Centuriata to aristocracy. The Comitia Curiata, in which the populace of Rome formed the majority, being fitted only to further tyranny and evil designs, naturally fell into disrepute, and even seditious persons abstained from using a method which too clearly revealed their projects. It is indisputable that the whole majesty of the Roman people lay solely in the Comitia Centuriata, which alone included all; for the Comitia Curiata excluded the rural tribes, and the Comitia Tributa the senate and the patricians.

Without going into further detail here, we may draw some conclusions from what has already been said. The Comitia Tributa were the most favorable to popular government, and the Comitia Centuriata to aristocracy. In the Comitia Curiata, the populace of Rome formed the majority. This assembly was suited only to advancing tyranny and evil schemes, so it naturally fell into disrepute. Even those seeking to stir up rebellion avoided a method that revealed their plans too clearly. Beyond dispute, the full sovereign authority of the Roman people rested solely in the Comitia Centuriata. This assembly alone included everyone, for the Comitia Curiata excluded the rural tribes, and the Comitia Tributa excluded the senate and the patricians.

As for the method of taking the vote, it was among the ancient Romans as simple as their morals, although not so simple as at Sparta. Each man declared his vote aloud, and a clerk duly wrote it down; the majority in each tribe determined the vote of the tribe, the majority of the tribes that of the people, and so with curiæ and centuries. This custom was good as long as honesty was triumphant among the citizens, and each man was ashamed to vote publicly in favour of an unjust proposal or an unworthy subject; but, when the people grew corrupt and votes were bought, it was fitting that voting should be secret in order that purchasers might be restrained by mistrust, and rogues be given the means of not being traitors.

Among the ancient Romans, the voting process was as simple as their morals, although not as simple as at Sparta. Each man announced his vote aloud, and a clerk recorded it. The majority in each tribe decided the tribe’s vote, and the majority of tribes decided the people’s vote. The same process applied to curiæ and centuries. This custom worked well as long as honesty prevailed among the citizens. Under those conditions, each man was ashamed to vote publicly for an unjust proposal or an unworthy candidate. But when the people became corrupt and votes were bought, secret voting became appropriate. Secrecy would hold vote buyers back by making them distrust the voters they paid. It would also let scoundrels take bribes without betraying their duty as citizens.

I know that Cicero attacks this change, and attributes partly to it the ruin of the Republic. But though I feel the weight Cicero's authority must carry on such a point, I cannot agree with him; I hold, on the contrary, that, for want of enough such changes, the destruction of the State must be hastened. Just as the regimen of health does not suit the sick, we should not wish to govern a people that has been corrupted by the laws that a good people requires. There is no better proof of this rule than the long life of the Republic of Venice, of which the shadow still exists, solely because its laws are suitable only for men who are wicked.

I know that Cicero criticizes this change and partly blames it for the ruin of the Republic. Although I recognize Cicero’s authority on this subject, I cannot agree with him. On the contrary, I believe that without enough such changes, the State’s destruction must come sooner. Just as a health routine for healthy people does not suit the sick, laws must suit the people. We should not try to govern a corrupt people with laws suited to a good people. No better proof of this rule exists than the long life of the Republic of Venice. A shadow of that Republic still exists, solely because its laws are suited only to wicked men.

The citizens were provided, therefore, with tablets by means of which each man could vote without any one knowing how he voted: new methods were also introduced for collecting the tablets, for counting voices, for comparing numbers, etc.; but all these precautions did not prevent the good faith of the officers charged with these functions² from being often suspect. Finally, to prevent intrigues and trafficking in votes, edicts were issued; but their very number proves how useless they were.

Citizens were therefore given voting tablets so that each man could vote without anyone knowing how he voted. New methods were also introduced for collecting the tablets, counting votes, comparing totals, and so on. But despite all these precautions, the honesty of the officials responsible for these tasks² was often questioned. Finally, decrees were issued to prevent scheming and trading in votes. But the sheer number of these decrees proves how useless they were.

Towards the close of the Republic, it was often necessary to have recourse to extraordinary expedients in order to supplement the inadequacy of the laws. Sometimes miracles were supposed; but this method, while it might impose on the people, could not impose on those who governed. Sometimes an assembly was hastily called together, before the candidates had time to form their factions: sometimes a whole sitting was occupied with talk, when it was seen that the people had been won over and was on the point of taking up a wrong position. But in the end ambition eluded all attempts to check it; and the most incredible fact of all is that, in the midst of all these abuses, the vast people, thanks to its ancient regulations, never ceased to elect magistrates, to pass laws, to judge cases, and to carry through business both public and private, almost as easily as the senate itself could have done.

Near the end of the Republic, extraordinary measures were often needed to make up for the laws’ shortcomings. Sometimes miracles were claimed. But although such claims might fool the people, they could not fool those who governed. Sometimes an assembly was called in haste, before the candidates had time to organize their factions. Sometimes an entire session was spent talking when the people had clearly been swayed and were about to choose wrongly. But in the end, ambition escaped all attempts to restrain it. Most incredibly, despite all these abuses, the vast population never stopped conducting its business under its ancient rules. The people continued to elect magistrates, pass laws, judge cases, and handle both public and private affairs. They did all this almost as easily as the senate itself could have done.