With a Senate purified by his first lectio Cæsar felt that the constitution might in form, at any rate, be restored. But first the end of the revolutionary period had to be marked. On January 11, B.C. 29, the temple of Ianus was closed, for the first time since B.C. 235, for the third time in all Roman history. It was still shut when Cæsar returned from Asia, and on the 1st of January, B.C. 28, the augurium salutis was taken. This ceremony—ascertaining by augury whether prayers for the people should be offered to Salus—could only be performed in time of complete peace. At the same time a single edict annulled all the acta of the triumvirs, which were to have no force from his sixth consulship (B.C. 28).[231] The constitutional significance of this will be best seen by recalling some facts as to the triumvirs. Whether its acta were good or bad, the triumvirate was in itself a suspension of the constitution. Established by a lex on the 27th of November, B.C. 43, to hold office till the 31st of December, B.C. 38, its authority had been renewed in the course of B.C. 37 to the 31st of December, B.C. 33, whether by another lex or by the will of the triumvirs themselves is a moot point.[232] But, however appointed, the triumvirs were like dictators in superseding all other magistrates, and more powerful than dictators from the length of their tenure of office, and because the terms of their appointment (reipublicæ constituendæ causa) gave them absolute legislative powers. They could abolish, modify, or grant dispensation from existing laws. Their edicts had the force of laws, and such laws as were passed in the regular way during their office either confirmed their powers, or were passed at their desire to give formal permanence to their edicts. They had complete control of elections, and agreed between themselves as to the nomination of magistrates, often for several years in advance. They controlled the treasury, the domain lands, the raising or removal of taxation in Rome and Italy. They divided among themselves the command of the military forces and the government of the provinces. Each of them, personally or by a legatus, exercised imperial powers in the provinces assigned to him; set up or put down client kings; granted immunities or freedom to cities, or abolished them; bestowed or withdrew the citizenship of individuals; waged war with surrounding nations; raised or remitted taxation. At Rome also they had exercised the right of summoning, consulting, and presiding over the Senate, of vetoing the motion of other Senators, but without being subject to the tribunician veto themselves. To abolish the acta of such a despotic body might with reason be regarded a considerable step towards a restoration of the constitution. Even if some of his own acta were thereby abolished, Cæsar would have no difficulty in re-enacting them if desirable. The point was to abolish the memory of a period of unconstitutional government, to prevent its enactments remaining as precedents or grounds of claim by citizen or subject, and to leave the field open for the new arrangement which Cæsar wished men to regard as a restoration of the republic. For he had already conceived a plan, in virtue of which the people, magistrates, and Senate should resume their old functions, while he himself should be practically the colleague of the higher magistrates—endowed with their powers, though not necessarily with their office—and thereby practically direct the policy of the state. The key to the policy—as he wished it to be regarded—is contained in his own comment: “After that time (January 1, 27) I was superior to all in rank, but of power I had no more than my colleagues in the several offices.”[233] There were some of his powers difficult to reconcile with this theory of a restored constitution; but he was careful to rest these on votes of the people or Senate, to accept them only for fixed periods, or to profess to share them with his colleagues.[234]
Inauguration of the new constitution, 1 January, B.C. 27.
The new constitution was now introduced in a characteristic scene, apparently designed to make it clear that Cæsar did not seek power, but undertook it under pressure. In a meeting of the Senate, at the beginning of his seventh consulship, he delivered from a written copy a carefully prepared speech, in which he surrendered to the Senate all the powers which it had bestowed upon him, as well as those which he had acquired in any other way—the command of troops, the powers of legislation, the government of the provinces. He based his resolution on justice, the inherent right of the people to manage its own affairs, and on his own right to consult for his personal safety, health, and ease. At the same time, he dwelt on his public services and those of his adoptive father, the labours they had both endured, the dangers to which both had been exposed, and justified the exercise up to this time of his various powers. Finally, he urged them to refrain from innovations, to give a hearty obedience to the laws, to elect the best men for civil and military offices without prejudice or favouritism, to deal honestly with public money, to treat allies and subjects equitably, to seek no wars but to be prepared for any, and to see that he had no cause to regret his renunciation of power. The speech was received with loud remonstrances, some sincere and some perhaps cautious and time-serving, but so general that he had to consent with real or feigned reluctance to receive back his autocratic powers. Was he merely playing a part, or had he any real wish to retire from public life? As in most cases there was probably a division of feeling in his heart. He was in weak health, and had had another illness a few months before. For eighteen years—just half his life—he had been ceaselessly engaged in fatiguing duties, in wars for which he had no genius, and in civil administration which, though much better suited to his taste and abilities, had been carried out amidst constant opposition and difficulty. One side of his mind may well have been eager for rest. But, on the other hand, no man who has tasted power and feels that he can wield it quits it without pain. At no time did he find pleasure in the outward trappings of state, or in the personal indulgences for which it gives opportunity, but he was ambitious in the best sense. He loved his country and desired to be remembered as the restorer of its prosperity and happiness, as the benefactor of the Empire and the guarantee of its peace and good government. Twenty-four years later when Valerius Messalla, speaking in the name of people and Senate, greeted him with the affectionate title of “Father of his country,” he burst into tears and could only murmur that he had nothing more to pray for except to retain their affection to the end of his life. But whatever secret wish he may have had for rest he must have known that it was impossible. The elements of disorder and oppression were not destroyed. If the restraining hand were removed they would break out into new activity. Nor would it be safe for himself after years of steady working for this end, in the course of which he must have offended countless interests, to trust himself to a new generation of statesmen without the experience in the working of a free state possessed by their ancestors, and yet with the same passions and ambitions. A scheme had, in fact, been elaborated in conjunction with his faithful friends and ministers, Agrippa and Mæcenas. Dio represents the former as urging Cæsar to withdraw from power and frankly to restore the republic. He grounded his advice on the financial and political difficulties which he would have to face, on the uncertainty of his own health, on the impossibility of drawing back hereafter and the evil destiny of all those who in previous ages had attempted to gain absolute power. Mæcenas, on the other hand, not only urged him to retain his power, but went into most elaborate details as to the arrangements which it would be necessary to make. He did not deny the risks, but maintained that the glory was worth them, and that a withdrawal was neither safe for himself nor for the people. It is not clear how far we may regard these two speeches, as well as that of Augustus in the Senate, as representing what was really said. It is possible that as they were all written documents they may have been preserved, and that Dio is translating from them; but at any rate they represent fairly well the two sides of the question which Augustus must have considered with care and anxiety.[235]
Division of the Provinces, B.C. 27.
The arrangement actually made was of the nature of a compromise. The provinces were divided, as formerly between Antony and Cæsar, so now between Cæsar and the Senate. Those that required considerable military forces were to be under Cæsar, governed by his deputies with the rank of prætor (legati pro prætore), appointed by his sole authority, and holding office during his pleasure. The rest were to be still governed by proconsuls, selected as of old by ballot under the superintendence of the Senate from the ex-prætors or ex-consuls, subject to the existing laws as to length of tenure and the obligation of furnishing accounts, and liable with their staff to prosecution de rebus repetundis in the ordinary courts. The “primacy” of the Emperor, however, was apparent in this partnership with the Senate, no less than in that with colleagues in office. In the allotment of Senatorial provinces he retained the right of nominating the exact number required, so that no one of whom he disapproved could obtain a province. In both classes of province he appointed a procurator, with authority over the finances independent of the proconsul or legatus.[236] In both also the governor received a salary fixed by himself, and had to conform to certain general principles laid down by him. In all alike he possessed a majus imperium, soon afterwards, if not at first, defined as a proconsulare imperium.[237]
For the rest he retained his right of being yearly elected consul, his tribunician power, his membership of the sacred colleges, his command of the army. But freedom of election was ostensibly restored to the people, and the Senate was still the fountain of honour, and had the control of the ærarium. But this last was no longer managed by two elected quæstors, but by two men of prætorian rank, nominated by the Emperor. It was, moreover, now of minor importance, as the fiscus (to use the later term) was entirely in the hands of Cæsar, and into it went the revenues of the imperial provinces, and, above all, of Egypt. The key of the position was that though the old republican magistrates still existed, Cæsar in various ways was their colleague, and of course the predominant partner. The Senate, however, accepted his view of the case, as afterwards expressed in the Monumentum, that he had “transferred the republic from his power to the authority of the Senate and people of Rome.” To show their confidence in him the Senators voted him a bodyguard (the men drawing double pay), and confirmed his authority in the provinces. The latter, which made him princeps throughout the Empire, as he already was in Rome, he refused to accept for more than ten years. But it was always renewed subsequently for periods of five or ten years; and when in B.C. 23, the proconsulare imperium was declared to be operative within, as well as beyond, the pomærium, he had, in fact, supreme control, military and financial, in all parts of the Empire. To mark his exceptional position without offending the prejudice against royalty, it was desired to give him a special title of honour. His own wish was for “Romulus,” as second founder of the state. But objection was raised to it as recalling the odious position of rex, and he eventually accepted the title of Augustus, a word connected with religion and the science of augury, and thereby suggesting the kind of sentiment which he desired to be attached to his person and genius. This was voted by the Senate on the Ides (13th) of January, B.C. 27, and confirmed by a plebiscitum on the 16th. He was now “first” or princeps everywhere, whether in the Senate, or among his colleagues in the offices, or among the proconsuls in the provinces.[238] He was, therefore, spoken of as princeps in ordinary language, and the word gradually hardened into a title. It exactly suited the view which he himself wished to be taken of his political position, as giving a primacy of rank among colleagues of equal legal powers; though, of course, a primacy, supported by the power of the purse and the sword, made him a master while masquerading as a colleague. He, however, adopted the word as rightly expressing his position without giving needless offence, and his successors took it as a matter of course, though it less frequently occurs in inscriptions than their other titles.[239]
Closely connected with the bestowal of the title Augustus was another vote of the Senate, that the front of his house should not only be adorned with the laurels that told of victory over his enemies, but also with the oaken or “civic” crown which told of the lives of citizens preserved. This appears again and again on his coins with the legend—ob cives servatos: and it is mentioned by Augustus himself at the end of his record of achievements, as though—with the later title of Pater Patriæ—it indicated the chief glory of his career.