The manners and habits of the imperial capital had undergone a gradual
change since the close of the second Punic War. During these fifty
years, the sack of so many Grecian cities, the fall of Carthage, and the
prestige of so many victories, had filled Rome with pride and luxury. In
vain did M. Portius Cato, the most remarkable man who adorned this
degenerate age, lift up his voice against increasing corruption. In vain
were his stringent measures as censor. In vain did he strike senators
from the list, and make an onslaught on the abuses of his day. In vain
were his eloquence, his simple manners, his rustic garb, and his
patriotic warnings. That hard, narrow, self-sufficient, arbitrary,
worldly-wise old statesman, whose many virtues redeemed his defects, and
whose splendid abilities were the glory of his countrymen, could not
restore the simplicities of former times. An age of "progress" had set
in, of Grecian arts and culture, of material wealth, of sumptuous
banquets, of splendid palaces, of rich temples, of theatrical shows, of
circus games, of female gallantries, of effeminated manners--all the
usual accompaniments of civilization, when it is most proud of its
triumphs; and there was no resisting its march--to the eye of many a
great improvement; to the eye of honest old Cato, the _descensus
averi_. Wealth had become a great power; senatorial families grew
immensely rich; the divisions of society widened; slavery was enormously
increased, while the rural population lost independence and influence.

Then took place the memorable struggles of Rome, not merely with foreign
enemies, but against herself. Factions and parties convulsed the city;
civil war wasted the national resources.

[Sidenote: Wars with the Cimbri and Teutones.]