Ab urbe condita

At last, after Julius and Cornelius had, one after the other, argued at great length that as they were quite competent to conduct that war, it was unjust to deprive them of the honour which the people had conferred upon them, Ahala Servilius, the other consular tribune, intervened in the dispute.

He had, he said, kept silent so long, not because he had any doubt in his own mind, —for what true patriot could separate his own interest from that of the State? —but because he would rather have had his colleagues yield voluntarily to the authority of the senate than allow the power of the plebeian tribunes to be invoked against them.

Even now he would have gladly given them time to abandon their unyielding attitude if circumstances allowed. But the necessities of war do not wait on the counsels of men, and the commonwealth was more to him than the goodwill of his colleagues.

If, therefore, the senate adhered to its decision, he would nominate a Dictator the next night, and if any one vetoed the passing of a senatorial decree he should be content to act simply on their resolution. By taking this course he won the well-deserved praise and sympathy of all, and after nominating P. Cornelius as Dictator, he was himself appointed Master of the Horse.

He furnished an example to his colleagues, as they compared his position with their own, of the way in which high office and popularity come sometimes most readily to those who do not covet them. The war was far from being a memorable one.