Roman Religion (Greece and Rome New Surveys in the Classics No. 30), J.A. North. Oxford: Oxford University Press, for the Classical Association, 2000. ISBN 019-922433-1. Pp. 99.
Reviewed by Tom Stevenson,
Dept. of Classics and Ancient History, University of Auckland,
John North's guide to recent trends in the study of Roman religion is a fine addition to the Greece and Rome New Surveys series. It is succinct, written in accessible style, and authoritative.1 Teachers and tertiary students will find that a very great deal is packed into ninety-nine pages, and the Bibliography (86-94) will be of considerable assistance to them. Secondary students should probably be directed to it only after acquiring a reasonable familiarity with the main aspects of the subject. My aim in this review is to give a summary of the contents and to assess North's approach. Readers should be aware that he is heavily influenced by sociological perspectives, so that, fine as his contributions in this field have been, there are some who now question a few of his basic presuppositions.
An Introduction (1-3) is followed by eight short chapters, which divide the main currents of recent scholarship while nonetheless maintaining a sense of historical development (from about the third century BC to the second century AD). For a more detailed analysis of the evidence, the reader is referred to the two-volume Religions of Rome (Cambridge, 1998), written by North in collaboration with Mary Beard and Simon Price.
Chapter I is called 'The Stories of Early Rome' (4-12). N. notes that the Romans did not have myths of quite the same type as the Greeks (describing adventures of their gods and goddesses). Instead, they had miraculous stories, preserved as history, about early figures such as Attus Navius, the augur who cut a whetstone in two with a razor in defiance of King Tarquinius Priscus (traditional dates 616-579 BC). Again in contrast to Greek practice, the early kings of the Romans and the Latins were worshipped after death as high gods, not as heroes or minor divinities. Aeneas, for instance, became Pater Indiges (B. Liou-Gille, Cultes 'heroiques' romains; les fondateurs, Paris, 1980, 85-134). Such behaviour does not seem to have been a feature of the age of Cicero (7). However, N. cautions that this might be a function of the nature of our evidence, which derives mostly from official sources:
'The extant evidence generally reflects not the experience of the mass of individual Romans, but the religious activity that affects the state and its activities, above all the doings of magistrates and priests. The Roman religion we know is based on this limited body of material. It shows a lack of direct divine intervention; a lack of the miraculous; a lack of myths of divine activity; even a lack of individual prophets (8). ... it is possible that the religion we find [in our sources] does not reflect reality at all; that Roman religious reality was dense with activities now lost to us (9). ... [Our source materials] tell us predominantly about the activities of the social élites of the Roman world, not about the poorer and less prominent sections of Roman society; they tell us about public activity, more than private or individual activity; in short, they tell us what the authorities of Rome would have wanted us to know about, but are far weaker when it comes to the religion of other groups (10).'
Thus we have a fundamental dilemma: Is our evidence illustrative of the overwhelming importance of public ritual activity at Rome or is it restricted in a way which distorts our understanding? N. refrains from taking a strong position but is inclined to feel, on the one hand, that public religion was far more important, and private religion far less important, than is the case today; and yet, 'it is hard to resist the idea that private religious experience becomes more important in the course of this period, both inside and outside the experience of Roman pagans' (11).
Chapter II examines 'The Early Character of Roman Religion' (13-20). The traditional scholarly view is that Romans were conservative in religious matters--rituals did not change, they had to be performed in precisely the same manner each time (e.g. Cicero, On the Response of the Haruspices 23), the words of archaic prayers were retained long after their meaning became obscure, the office of Flamen Dialis continued to be hedged around by taboos that relate to very primitive conditions, and so on. N., however, seeks to show that the Romans were more innovative than conservative, and were in fact ever-ready to adapt their religion to changing circumstances. He points out (borrowing from Dumézil) that the names of Roman gods, and even the Latin words for 'god' (deus) and 'goddess' (dea), go back to Indo-European roots (15). Furthermore, archaeological investigation has shown that Rome in the sixth century BC was not an isolated community, so there could not have been a 'pure' Roman tradition. This means that the conventional view of early Roman religion, and indeed of the development of Roman religion, is severely flawed. If the gods were there from the foundation of the city, it is not right to subscribe to the old view that a phase of animism or 'pre-deism' was succeeded by a phase of anthropomorphism, in which the Etruscans introduced both the gods themselves and representations of the gods in human form. This phase, in turn, was supposedly superseded by a long period of slow decline in belief in the old deities as Rome was transformed from an agricultural community into an increasingly urbanized and sophisticated one. At the same time, the citizens thought that the age-old rituals, which they understood less and less, were fundamental to Roman success and thus had to be maintained strictly. Public religious performance, in consequence, was necessary and constant, but cold and formal. N. believes that change occurred more rapidly than is allowed for by this traditional picture. He points out that there was rapid change in most areas of Roman life and that all social formations in Rome, whether they be clubs, colleges or families, had a religious aspect to them. Instead of timeless conservatism, it is apparent that religious institutions were much affected by other changes in Roman society and especially by major political change. This leaves him sceptical about how good a picture we can construct of the early period, arguing back from the religion that we know reasonably well during the third-first centuries BC.
Chapter III looks at 'The Religion of Republic and Empire' (21-34). It commences by outlining the influence of the republican nobles (nobiles) in the major priestly colleges at Rome. However, each priestly college normally contained no more than one member of any family or clan; a father was rarely if ever succeeded by his son in his own lifetime; and it was rare for an individual to hold more than one priesthood. Thus, control over religion was widely disseminated through the aristocratic families (26). The religion of the republican period emerges as one expression of the ideology of the ruling élite, and of their techniques for sharing power and limiting the ambitions of the great families (33). The Senate operated as a central, coordinating body (28). Certainly, religious and political pre-eminence often went together, but this can be attributed to Roman ideas of power and to the fact that religion and politics are both ways of systematically structuring power in a community. N. disputes the old theory that there was religious decline in the late Republic as a result of political interference and the influence of decadent, eastern ideas (29). Caesar disregarded religious objections to his legislation in 59 BC, and Polybius talks of manipulation of public religion by the élite. Yet he also says that the Romans were the most religious of men and that their respect for their gods led them to keep their oaths consistently (Polybius 6.56.6-14). Easy scientific rationalism was not available to the Romans, so it can hardly be right to think that the élite were all scientific rationalists exploiting the ignorant masses (31). In contrast to the idea of neglect in the late Republic, N. sees the élite showing care for religious scruples and observances (32). When Augustus acquired power, this needed to be recognized with religious office and privilege: 'he became quite rapidly the head of the state religion and his actions increasingly reflected his position' (34).
'Gods, Goddesses, and their Temples' form the subject of Chapter IV (35-43). It seems that uncertainties of various kinds surrounded the gods and goddesses of Rome. This reflects difficulties the ancients felt in dealing with them. For a start they are not easy to define or grade, though in general a clear distinction was maintained between men and gods, at least until the age of Julius Caesar and notwithstanding the example of those early kings who became gods after death. When expanding into the Greek world, the Senate permitted worship of Dea Roma, apparently because there were attitudes against the deification of individual Romans. These attitudes probably had much to do with the republican ethos of power-sharing and corporate rule. By the mid-first century BC, however, there were attitudes both for and against the deification of Julius Caesar during his lifetime (37). Sometimes the gods were perceived as thoughtful and rational; sometimes it appears they were looked upon as capricious and violent (38-9). Hesitant, respectful mediation took place via state vows, prodigies, and the provision and maintenance of temples (40). A constant pose of uncertainty and inferiority seems to have been advantageous. Temple neglect became an issue during the period of the civil wars of the first century BC. Government was perceived to be breaking down and temples were seen to be in need of repair. The line of causation was drawn from the temples to the government, rather than vice versa, as it might justifiably have been. After taking power, it became appropriate for Augustus to boast in his Achievements (Res Gestae 20.4) that he had restored eighty-two temples (42). Once more, in place of the old picture of Roman conservatism in religious matters, N. leaves us with a picture of constant innovation and experiment: it was not until the Temple of Venus and Roma was built under Hadrian that the goddess Roma was worshipped in the city of Rome itself (43).
Chapter V is devoted to 'Rituals' (44-53). N. points out their ubiquity; they were a feature of all public events and celebrations (44). However, the Romans hardly ever wrote about the significance of their rituals, nor was there much attempt to explain the myths and stories attached to their festivals (44-6). The festivals themselves were subject to constant change, and in the rare case of a festival whose meaning was debated, such as the Lupercalia, it emerges that there was a multiplicity of meanings (46-50). Thus the many modern attempts to understand their (timeless) significance, especially through an investigation of their origins, have been misguided. It might in fact be that all the apparently conflicting interpretations of a festival like the Lupercalia are in some sense right. Authors like Ovid and Plutarch were accustomed to providing lists of interpretations to parade their learning and to illustrate the importance of the theme about which they are writing. They were not as interested as modern academics in the individual ideas or in resolving the contradictions, and it is probable that 'every participant would have had his or her own idea of what it all meant' (50). New rituals as well as new meanings continued to be generated in the imperial period, such as the apotheosis ritual, which developed from the funeral rites for republican nobles (52-3).
'Innovation and its Accommodation' are dealt with in Chapter VI (54-62). The admission of Greek gods and rites into the Roman religious environment is well known, and yet the Romans emphasized their adherence to ancestral custom (mos maiorum). N. wonders whether the Romans perceived innovation in the same way that we do. For example, the Magna Mater was identified with the Mother of Mount Ida, which is the mountain near Troy, to which Aeneas first fled after the destruction of the city. Her official title was Mater Deum Magna Idaea (Great Mother of the Gods, from Mount Ida). It could be argued, then, that the establishment of her cult was not seen as something 'new' but as belated recognition of a deity who should have been worshipped all along (56). There were certainly new elements constantly arriving on the Roman religious scene; old ones, it may be presumed, were just as constantly disappearing, either deliberately omitted or forgotten. The losses are harder for us to track (57). Some consciousness of loss must have been behind the 'revivalism' of Augustus, who claimed to have restored traditional religious practices. N. sees him acting in a regular way. The prevailing concerns over religious decline permitted him to innovate under the guise of restoration, mostly at the expense of the old nobility, who were blamed, for example by Cicero (On the Laws 2.3; On the Nature of the Gods 2.9; On Divination 1.25) and Varro (Divine Antiquities I fr. 2a cf. 12 Cardauns), for allowing things to slide into decay. Such claims provided not only an explanation of what had gone wrong (the gods had been abandoned), but a remedy for the evils of Rome (58). In general, N. describes a great deal of fluidity and creativity surrounding the gods and rituals of Rome. Imperial cult, for instance, has proved a problem for modern interpreters but N. thinks it was probably much less so for ancient worshippers. There were certainly attitudes against it, but sometimes we are left to wonder whether it was seen as a ridiculous idea to deify humans per se or just ridiculous to deify ones like Claudius, or even Augustus (cf. Seneca's Apocolocyntosis). Imperial cult was not so new or controversial as has been thought, was not centrally organized and controlled, was accepted widely throughout the empire, and only spasmodically rejected by a few emperors, apparently mindful of certain tensions which existed at Rome itself, with its traditions of republican power-sharing and noble pre-eminence as a class (59-61).
Chapter VII, on 'New Forms' (63-75), advances the picture of an innovative religious environment further, asking whether the Romans were tolerant of new forms of worship, and finding that they were tolerant of what seemed harmless to the existing social order. The problem with the Bacchanalian cults in the 180s BC, for instance, was that they had their own highly-structured organization, including male priests, that owed nothing to normal lines of political and social control. This represented an alternative order that was perceived as a potential threat by the Senate (63-6). It is the first sign, in N.'s view, of a religious revolution, in which individuals of varied origins began to join together because of shared religious beliefs. This entailed political power for the group, especially its leadership, the possibility of conversion from one religion to another, potential conflict, scrutiny of distinctive ideas, and in general a change in the social significance and meaning of individual 'beliefs', which had hardly mattered or been challenged before (66-7):
'It must have been as a result of all this that individuals start to take their own experience far more seriously as a trigger to religious action (67).'
However, change was slow, and while there was some intellectual confrontation, there was very little open conflict. The oriental mystery cults, which offered their initiates a more personal experience than the older community cults, and a cult like Mithraism, which can hardly have existed comfortably in the normal life of the city, seem to have caused little or no conflict (71). Persecution of Christianity was erratic and uncertain, though the rise of concepts like conversion, persecution, martyrdom, creed and heresy shows the perceptions of distinctiveness and threat, and measures taken to define and repress. It is patent that alternatives (simultaneously religious, political and social) were available as groups came to distinguish themselves from the old pagan religion of the city (71-2). N. prefers to emphasize that there were long periods without conflict between Christians and Roman authorities. This probably owes much to the slow, uncertain progress of Christianity (74). However, the pattern changed in the third century AD when repression becomes more centralized and more determined. N.'s explanation for this has two parts: i) the Christians were not a clearly foreign group like Egyptians or Syrians; and ii) they were a small group actively trying to win converts among pagans. The rise in Christian numbers came about through conversion of people brought up in pagan households. In other words, some converts were beginning to cause tensions within their family groups, defying their fathers and other relatives and rejecting pagan ideas. This was 'a phenomenon that did not exist at all in the earlier years of the Empire' (75).
Finally, in Chapter VIII, entitled 'Reading Pagan Texts' (76-85), N. notes a distinctive feature of ancient pagan texts, something which accommodates constant change in religious discourse: the language is inexplicit and guarded - most unlike the far more direct language of (e.g.) Christianity. Yet the Romans saw themselves, and were seen, as the most religious of all peoples. N. takes this claim seriously. Polybius praises the piety of the Romans, simultaneously criticising the Greeks, who have forgotten how to use religion as a tool of social control (Polybius 6.56). His own examples, however, such as the way Roman magistrates resisted bribery and always kept their oaths because of their respect for religion, contradict his thesis that Roman leaders were cynical manipulators of their religion (76-7). Livy and later historians conceal their thoughts for the most part. Cicero's philosophical works indicate matters of debate among the reading élite of contemporary Rome. As a member of the Academy, he left decisions to his readers. N. would leave his philosophical texts to one side as evidence of religious activities and views (79). Ovid's Calendar (Fasti), written in the latter years of Augustus' reign, gives explanations of the festivals and rituals of the year. Plainly, however, Ovid does not seek to establish a single truth, and the narrator should be distinguished from Ovid himself. Modern commentators cannot understand the humour and contradiction, believing that religious language should be straightforward and serious rather than humorous (80-1). Distortions and send-ups were introduced by Christian polemic (82). Pagans could not show confidence in having read their gods' thoughts, and thus their ritual similarly conveyed discreet, coded and (to us) evasive messages, just like their religious language (83-4).
The thesis of constant innovation and adaptability is well argued and quite convincing. Apart from its other achievements, this little book presents clearly the idea which is N.'s fundamental contribution to scholarship in the field. Of course, it also illustrates his approach to the evidence. In his Introduction he confronts traditional approaches which have seen religion as something secondary to war and politics. It was, on the contrary, a major part of the way Roman society worked, a part of every transaction. Thus, says N., it should not be marginalised (1). This can be readily conceded, but what is effectively done by expressing things this way is to privilege the view of religion as a matter of social power - a way for a society or social group to come to terms with intangible, external forces, and a way of structuring power internally, within a society, between social groups, often in support of the existing social order. It is quite legitimate to see religion in this way, but it has a number of consequences. One is that groups are described more than individuals, and another is that religion becomes a kind of academic exercise in which different groups negotiate power, both externally and internally. Topics like faith, belief, religiosity and emotionalism are pushed into the background; some writers even see them as unimportant.
In my view they are important, indeed fundamental. How can it be unimportant to contemplate the fear, awe and other emotions felt by worshippers at times of (say) war, famine or pestilence? Why did the Bacchus cult hold such appeal? Individual emotion and psychology deserve a higher profile, especially considering the anxiety that must have existed in a world constantly threatened by famine, disease and myriad other dangers. Modern wonder drugs and agricultural conditions make it very hard for us to appreciate the level of this anxiety. If there is any sphere of human experience which seems to demand concentration upon the irrational, surely it is religion, and surely the lesson to be emphasized is not about a rational negotiation of power but about the propensity of human beings to respond irrationally, in ways that frequently seem unpredictable or contradictory but so very 'human'. Cato the Elder made a great show of his traditional piety and correct observance. Plutarch (Cato the Elder 17) says that he only embraced his wife when it thundered. Cicero (On Divination 2.51), on the other hand, reports a comment which could not have been intended so readily for public consumption:
'[he] used to say that he was amazed that one haruspex could catch sight of another without bursting out laughing' (mirari se aiebat [Cato] uod non ridebat haruspex haruspicem cum vidisset).
It would not be surprising to find that a broad spectrum of belief existed, both between individuals and between any one individual's beliefs in different contexts. Why would this not be a valuable finding? There have certainly been problems with the conclusions drawn by older scholars, who noticed prominent expressions of scepticism among Rome's élite and the formality of Rome's state rituals and festivals, and hence thought that Roman religion was dry, lifeless, lacking in emotion, and manipulated by a sceptical élite bent upon political domination. Yet the reaction, based upon anthropological and sociological influences, and stigmatizing traditional ideas as 'Christianizing', has said that we should give prominence to the social function of religion and learn to see things like faith and emotion as relatively unimportant in the ancient world. It was self-evident to the ancients that there were deities; this was not a matter of deep, controversial faith. The public and political character of Roman religion did not necessarily exclude individual devotion or private cult, but the latter were drawn into the public domain as part of social religious behaviour. People were not used to conceiving of their religious needs in individual terms. For N, 'faith' only arose as an important concept when the emergence of Christianity and Judaism forced 'pagan-ism' to define itself by way of competition; even then pagans never achieved or even tried to achieve the degree of unity or the coherence of doctrine that is today associated with the idea of a religion (1). Finally:
'It is only in the very late Republic that the population of Rome became so huge, and in some ways so short-term, that it is hard to see how knowledge of the festivals can have been a binding factor in the city's life, let alone of all the citizens of Rome, now spread over the whole of Italy' (51).
What this does, of course, is effectively to tie individuals into their groups as social units or cogs in the whole, and so we don't need to consider those factors, like charisma and awe and exuberance, which moved individuals and which are the major reasons why many scholars study religion. Do we all feel the same about deities? Do we worship the deities of our social groups, without thought? What sorts of factors impinge upon these questions? It is a long way from saying that we have missed the social dimension to saying that belief and emotion are unimportant. We might understand these things imperfectly (I certainly think that traditional scholarship has done so), but why should we throw them out as topics for study instead of rack our brains for new ways to approach our evidence in order to appreciate them? It is not really fair to imply that N. does this in any crude manner, or that he is uninterested in emotion. The point is simply that other interests are paramount in his analysis. 'The place of religion in Roman society has to be discovered in its own terms' (2), he says. Quite so, but the commentator inevitably interprets from his or her own preconceptions, and it is important to recognise them. What is more, Christianity arose alongside, and in competition with, the pagan religions of the Roman world, so that the differences on both sides, exaggerated from motives of competition, have perhaps been overemphasized. Christianity probably caters more to the group, and paganism more to the individual, than has generally been allowed.
The problem really comes when we consider the evidence available to us for republican religion. Has N. underplayed elements like individual choice, belief and emotionalism in the early period, and therefore overemphasized their development later on? He is honest and fair in admitting that our evidence relates primarily to the state cult (8-10, see quote above). The question is: Have the interests of our sources, who want in the main to reflect a careful, scrupulous piety, succeeded in hiding activities taking place beyond state control? N. is inclined to think that the distortion is not too great, but I am much less sure. Ironically, N. himself has recently been collecting evidence for prophecy outside the control of public authorities, and feels that there was a flourishing industry that is not described by historians like Livy.2 Similarly, we could note the presence of unofficial astrologers (Cato, On Agriculture 5.4), diviners, and magical practices, like the enchanting of crops, human sacrifice (Pliny, Natural History 20.12), and Marsic snake-charming (Cicero, On Divination 1.132). It is probable, too, that women were involved in religion far more than a glance at the state cult would lead us to believe - note the virgin births in early stories, the role of the nymph Egeria in advising King Numa, and the evidence for prophetesses.
If there was in fact a range of religious options outside the state cult, then, of course, it was not so all-encompassing as scholars like N. have thought. This is not to say that it was not taken very seriously, just that there were other alternatives. This opens the door for the subject of individual choice. Many questions arise or deserve to be reopened. For example: On what bases did individuals choose? Why do we assume that Romans did not participate in state rituals as thinking individuals? Why do we see belief and formalism as mutually exclusive? Why has it been thought that the Romans did not 'internalise' their religion? Why has civic religion been seen as the religion of Rome? Andreas Bendlin thinks that a considerable range of competing religious influences existed in the polyglot society that was Rome from about the third century, that full participation in state rituals was rare, and that state officials had no way of ensuring the communication of a fixed meaning when rituals were conducted.3 In short, there was plenty of room for individual interpretation, input, negotiation and choice. How did Romans choose the cults to support if it was not a mechanical process or one dictated by their betters?
'I suggest ... that we must abandon the traditional dualism of civic religion and private cult, of sacra publica and sacra priuata, and the subsequent subordination of one to the other, which has characterised the study of Roman republican religion for too long. In other words, I argue that neither was there a subordination of religious life in the city of Rome to the civic domain (the "civic compromise") nor were the sacra publica of Rome's civic religion simply an élite creation which happened to be employed almost exclusively by and on behalf of the members of that very élite.4
A 'market model' is offered as a better way of appreciating the religious plurality of (especially late) republican Rome.5 Rather than the masses moving blindly from festival to festival as dictated by an élite-constructed calendar, Bendlin constructs a model in which cults compete for worship (and its economic spinoffs in the form of financial contributions). A cult's popularity determines (and is perhaps also partly determined by) its ability to acquire contributions in the competitive environment. I have some concerns about this model (see below), but how refreshing it is to have a stimulating alternative to established ideas. Apart from anything else, Bendlin's model affords individual Romans the opportunity of making a choice, which implies coherent internal motivation and private concerns. Individual psychology may be admitted once more alongside social stratification and the concerns of the Roman state.
Yet even Bendlin's model, it seems to me, permits a situation in which worshippers are attracted to a cult because of its grand rituals and socially important membership, so that cults supported by the state have an advantage and we are once again left to contemplate the agendas of those who run the state cults. What I would like to see is fresh emphasis placed upon the importance of personal and life-cycle concerns in Roman religion, such as birth, death, sickness, etc. The attraction of cults dealing with these should not be underestimated (Cic. Fam. 14.7 shows that Terentia at least would associate the gods with healing). If we contemplate a man in pain, a woman about to give birth, a family dependent upon a successful crop for its survival, or a state subject to imminent invasion, the decision to establish or join a cult isn't a social or economic matter at first instance. At other times, new initiates were perhaps attracted to some degree by the economic or social or political status of a cult. They also, in my view, gained a certain peace of mind or personal (psychological) satisfaction from what they were doing. Their behaviour connected with a certain element that might be labelled 'belief': a conviction that they had more or less accurately conceived of a deity or deities who could bring benefits in response to worship. These considerations governed ideas about appropriate behaviour in response to such beings. I can't accept that people acted in a psychological vacuum, especially at times of stress. It is probable that there was a range of levels of commitment and emotion on any given occasion, and in times of confidence or stability it might even appear that there was not much. That social, political and economic change produced changes in patterns of worship should come as no surprise. However, in addition to these it might pay to look even more closely at the nature of the deities worshipped in the ancient world. They are those you would expect from a world whose economic basis was always agricultural, and which lacked wonder drugs and the huge faith that is placed in rational deduction these days.
The picture is complicated, affected by psychological, social, political and economic circumstances, among other things. My point is perhaps twofold: i) there was probably a wide variety of religious experiences available beyond the official religion of Rome; and ii) there was probably much more room for individual choice than scholars such as N. have allowed for. Much depends upon how you view our surviving evidence (is it typical or limited?) and the importance of social groups versus individuals in history. N. believes that public religion and groups were paramount, and he writes very well about them. Others would like to see him broaden his picture, especially for the republican period.
1Infelicities of spelling or grammar appear to be few. I counted these: 'aginst' = 'against' (24); 'tht' = 'that' (25); 'was that that the traditional residence' = 'was that the' (34); 'Others seems to exist' = 'Others seem' (35); 'regarded her was a' = 'regarded her as' (35); 'Ceres Liber and Libera' = 'Ceres, Liber and Libera' (41); 'magnficent' = 'magnificent' (42); 'the goddess.The hero' = 'goddess. The' (69); 'more determined..' = 'more determined.' (74); 'mirrors.You' = 'mirrors. You' (82).
2J.A. North, 'Prophet and text in the third century BC', 92-107, 164-6, in E. Bispham and C. Smith (ed.), Religion in Archaic and Republican Rome and Italy: Evidence and Experience (Edinburgh 2000).
3A. Bendlin, 'Looking Beyond the Civic Compromise: Religious Pluralism in Late Republican Rome', 115-35, 167-71, in Bispham and Smith (n.2 above).