L. I am brought to the conclusion, and must almost assent to it. XL. You will be more inclined to that opinion, said Scipio, when omitting the analogies of one pilot, one physician, who if they are any way skilled in their arts, ought one to have the control of the ship; the other of the patient, in preference to many; I come to the consideration of greater matters. L. What are they? S. Are you not aware that the name of king became odious to this people, on account of the oppression and pride of one man, Tarquin? L. Yes, I am aware. S. Then you are aware of what haply in the course of this discussion, I may find occasion to speak. Tarquin being driven out, the people exulted with a marvellous sort of insolence of freedom. At one time driving innocent people into exile; at another, confiscating the property of many. Next came annual consuls. Then the fasces prostrated before the people—appeals in all cases. Then the mutiny of the plebeians—then a complete revolution in every thing, placing all things in the power of the people. L. It is as you say. “It is true,” said Scipio—“in peace and tranquillity, some license may be permitted when there is nothing to fear, as at sea sometimes, or in a slight fever: but like him who is at sea, when suddenly the ocean puts on its terrors, or the sick man, when his complaint oppresses him, and the assistance of one is implored: so our people in time of peace, interfere in internal affairs, threaten the magistrates, refuse submission to them, denounce them and provoke them; yet in war obey them as they would a king, preferring their safety to the indulgence of their passions. Also in our more important wars, our countrymen have constantly preferred the command to be in the hands of one, without any colleague; the extent of whose power is indicated by his name. For a dictator is so called on account of every thing being dictated by him. But in our books, Lælius, you see also that he is called master of the people.” L. It is so. “Wisely therefore did those ancients,” said Scipio * * * * [Two pages wanting.] XLI. * * * When a people is deprived of a just king, as Ennius says, after the death of one of the best of kings, “Long were their bosoms moved with deep regret; Oft they together call upon his manes. Oh, godlike Romulus! the bounteous gods What a protector did they give in thee? Oh father, parent, blood derived from heaven!” Those whom the laws enjoined them to obey, they did not call lords or masters; finally, not even kings, but guardians of the country, fathers and gods. Nor without cause, for what is added, “Thou broughtest us into the realms of light!”