the few. Dominion, wealth, honors, all that had been won by the hardy
virtues of earlier generations, seemed about to be engulfed forever.

In their panic the Senate turned to Sylla, whom they had made consul. An
imperfect peace was patched up with the Italians. Sylla was bidden to save
the Republic and to prepare in haste for Greece. But Sylla was a bitter
aristocrat, the very incarnation of the oligarchy, who were responsible
for every disaster which had happened. The Senate had taken bribes from
Jugurtha. The Senate had chosen the commanders whose blunders had thrown
open the Alps to the Germans; and it was only because the people had
snatched the power out of their hands and had trusted it to one of
themselves that Italy had not been in flames. Again the oligarchy had
recovered the administration, and again by following the old courses they
had brought on this new catastrophe. They might have checked Mithridates
while there was time. They had preferred to accept his money and look on.
The people naturally thought that no successes could be looked for under
such guidance, and that even were Sylla to be victorious, nothing was to
be expected but the continuance of the same accursed system. Marius was
the man. Marius after his sixth consulship had travelled in the East, and
understood it as well as Sylla. Not Sylla but Marius must now go against
Mithridates. Too late the democratic leaders repented of their folly in
encouraging the Senate to refuse the franchise to the Italians. The
Italians, they began to perceive, would be their surest political allies.
Caius Gracchus had been right after all. The Roman democracy must make
haste to offer the Italians more than all which the Senate was ready to
concede to them. Together they could make an end of misrule and place
Marius once more at their head.

Much of this was perhaps the scheming passion of revolution; much of it
was legitimate indignation, penitent for its errors and anxious to atone