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The Plebeians
had also the privilege of annually appointing officers, named
Tribunes, who had no active share in the government of the
commonwealth, but who, by degree, acquired a power formidable
even to the ablest and most resolute Consuls and Dictators. The
person of the Tribune was inviolable; and, though he could
directly effect little, he could obstruct everything.

During more than a century after the institution of the
Tribuneship, the Commons struggled manfully for the removal of
the grievances under which they labored; and, in spite of many
checks and reverses, succeeded in wringing concession after
concession from the stubborn aristocracy. At length in the year
of the city 378, both parties mustered their whole strength for
their last and most desperate conflict. The popular and active
Tribune, Caius Licinius, proposed the three memorable laws which
are called by his name, and which were intended to redress the
three great evils of which the Plebeians complained. He was
supported, with eminent ability and firmness, by his colleague,
Lucius Sextius. The struggle appears to have been the fiercest
that every in any community terminated without an appeal to arms.
If such a contest had raged in any Greek city, the streets would
have run with blood. But, even in the paroxysms of faction, the
Roman retained his gravity, his respect for law, and his
tenderness for the lives of his fellow citizens. Year after year
Licinius and Sextius were reelected Tribunes. Year after year, if
the narrative which has come down to us is to be trusted, they
continued to exert, to the full extent, their power of stopping
the whole machine of government. No curule magistrates could be
chosen; no military muster could be held. We know too little of
the state of Rome in those days to be able to conjecture how,
during that long anarchy, the peace was kept, and ordinary
justice administered between man and man. The animosity of both
parties rose to the greatest height. The excitement, we may well
suppose, would have been peculiarly intense at the annual
election of Tribunes.
On such occasions there can be little doubt
that the great families did all that could be done, by threats
and caresses, to break the union of the Plebeians. That union,
however, proved indissoluble. At length the good cause triumphed.
The Licinian laws were carried. Lucius Sextius was the first
Plebeian Consul, Caius Licinius the third.

The results of this great change were singularly happy and
glorious. Two centuries of prosperity, harmony, and victory
followed the reconciliation of the orders. Men who remembered
Rome engaged in waging petty wars almost within sight of the
Capitol lived to see her the mistress of Italy. While the
disabilities of the Plebeians continued, she was scarcely able to
maintain her ground against the Volscians and Hernicans. When
those disabilities were removed, she rapidly became more than a
match for Carthage and Macedon.

During the great Licinian contest the Plebeian poets were,
doubtless, not silent. Even in modern times songs have been by no
means without influence on public affairs; and we may therefore
infer that, in a society where printing was unknown and where
books were rare, a pathetic or humorous party-ballad must have
produced effects such as we can but faintly conceive. It is
certain that satirical poems were common at Rome from a very
early period. The rustics, who lived at a distance from the seat
of government, and took little part in the strife of factions,
gave vent to their petty local animosities in coarse Fescennine
verse. The lampoons of the city were doubtless of a higher order;
and their sting was early felt by the nobility. For in the Twelve
Tables, long before the time of the Licinian laws, a severe
punishment was denounced against the citizen who should compose
or recite verses reflecting on another.