The law proposed by Carbo furnished an illustration of that class of laws directed against the rich, so often brought forward by demagogues, not because of any justice in the law, not even because of any benefit which the law will confer upon the people at large, but merely for the purpose of winning popular favor and political office. Such laws are generally supported by unrestrained and indiscriminating abuse. It is the proposed laws and attacks of this character which generally lead to a reaction, and in the end work to the benefit of the classes against which they are directed.
The whole story of Carbo is one well calculated to present in vivid colors all that is lowest and most despicable. To the faults and errors already referred to must be added the charge of absolute insincerity. To Carbo the rights of the people and the popular cause were dear only as a means by which he could acquire power and money for himself. When it was for his interest, he became the servile tool of the senatorial party. America to-day has her full share of politicians who use popular measures only as a ladder for their own rise; or, even worse, who seek the leadership of a popular cause with the premeditated purpose of betraying it, at the proper moment, to the special interests. Where the purpose at first is sincere, the advocate of the object frequently deserts the cause when greater gain to him may be had by a surrender.
The impossibility of the voters being able to discriminate between the true reformer and the unscrupulous demagogue is shown time and again in the political history both of Rome and the United States. There has always been a class of politicians without character, without honesty, without any pretense of truthfulness, without any ability of a kind to be of value to the public, but possessed of an almost superhuman ability to deceive the public and to advertise themselves. Examples of this class may be found in Roman history in such men as Carbo and Cæsar; striking examples in recent American history will readily occur to every one. Notably in municipal politics in the great American cities, this aspect often appears.
It is not only in great but also in smaller things that we see the ever-recurring resemblances between Roman and American conditions. Cicero's complaint, "Let me tell you that there is no class of people so harassed by every kind of unreasonable difficulty as candidates for office," finds a responsive chord in every modern American politician. His account of his campaign for the consulship at Rome, as well as the historical record of other Roman political contests, shows many points of similarity between the details of the problems and methods of ancient and modern political battles.
Political expenditures, in the latter days of the Roman republic, had become an even greater evil than is the case in the United States to-day. It is interesting, though alarming, to note that the greater political freedom became at Rome, the greater became the amount of political expenditures and the greater the power of money in elections. A similar alarming phenomenon has recently been noticed in this country in the greater increase of political expenditures which have followed the introduction of the direct primaries, and the consequent greater difficulties of the candidate for office not possessed of a large fortune.
Innumerable other points of resemblance might be mentioned to complete the comparison between Roman and American political conditions. A strong point in the Roman character (at least during the greater part of the republican period) is found in the fact that foreign hostilities always produced a cessation, or at least a laxation, of domestic political hostilities. This was in striking contrast with the general rule in Grecian cities, where one political faction or another would generally seize the opportunity offered by the external difficulties of their state to advance their selfish individual interests at the expense of the public. The public attitude in America has always resembled the Roman rather than the Grecian attitude. Perhaps this attitude in America has sometimes been carried too far, and resulted in too great a degree of credit and support being given to the party in power, for victories won by the united efforts of members of all political parties in the country.
The effect of a mere name, both in Rome and in the United States, has always been unduly great. The charge (even when entirely unsupported) that a Roman politician was aiming to make himself a king was generally sufficient to drive him from power; though the Romans finally calmly submitted to the rule of an absolute ruler under the new title of emperor. The efficiency of denunciation by calling names, instead of by argument, is known and made use of in American politics.
The pretense of patriotism in America assumed by having one's self designated by a name of patriotic appellation—such as "Honest" John Doe, "Brave" Richard Roe, and the "Patriot" John Stiles—is but a parallel to the schemes of the ancient tricksters. Truly, there is nothing new under the sun, and as man so are republics of men—both alike in greatness and in littleness.
There is slight opportunity for comparison between the Roman colonial system and that of our own country. It is true that of both alike it may be said the beginning of foreign conquest came as an accident, and the acquisition of territory beyond the seas found them unprepared for its government. Here, it is to be hoped, the resemblance will be found to have ceased. When Rome had once tasted the fruits of foreign conquest, the extension of such conquests became the great object of Roman ambition. It was not by accident but by deliberately planned wars of conquest that the so-called world empire of the Romans was acquired.
With the United States the comparatively few and unimportant insular possessions are still a matter of secondary concern. But few of the citizens of this country give any thought or attention to these possessions, and many even favor their abandonment.