ndage together with their own slaves. And a
like fate awaited the obstinate inhabitants of Greece and Macedonia and
Spain and Syria when they dared to revolt against the Roman power.

Two thousand years ago a slave was merely a piece of machinery. Nowadays
a rich man invests his money in factories. The rich people of Rome
(senators, generals and war-profiteers) invested theirs in land and in
slaves. The land they bought or took in the newly-acquired provinces.
The slaves they bought in open market wherever they happened to be
cheapest. During most of the third and second centuries before Christ
there was a plentiful supply, and as a result the landowners worked
their slaves until they dropped dead in their tracks, when they bought
new ones at the nearest bargain-counter of Corinthian or Carthaginian
captives.

And now behold the fate of the freeborn farmer!

He had done his duty toward Rome and he had fought her battles without
complaint. But when he came home after ten, fifteen or twenty years, his
lands were covered with weeds and his family had been ruined. But he was
a strong man and willing to begin life anew. He sowed and planted and
waited for the harvest. He carried his grain to the market together with
his cattle and his poultry, to find that the large landowners who worked
their estates with slaves could underbid him all along the line. For a
couple of years he tried to hold his own. Then he gave up in despair. He
left the country and he went to the nearest city. In the city he was as
hungry as he had been before on the land. But he shared his misery with
thousands of other disinherited beings. They crouched together in filthy
hovels in the suburbs of the large cities. They were apt to get sick and
die from terrible epidemics. They were all profoundly discontented. They
had fought for their country and this was their reward. They were always
willing to listen to those plausible spell-binders who gather around a
public grievance like so many hungry vultures, and soon they became a
grave menace to the safety of the state.

But the class of the newly-rich shrugged its shoulders. "We have our
army and our policemen," they argued, "they will keep the mob in order."
And they hid themselves behind the high walls of their pleasant villas
and cultivated their gardens and read the poems of a certain Homer which
a Greek slave had just translated into very pleasing Latin hexameters.

In a few families however the old