peace that its principal exploits had been the subjection of states weak to insignificance on the sea as compared with imperial Athens.  Profuse expenditure on its maintenance; the ‘continued practice’ of which Pericles boasted, the peace manoeuvres of a remote past; skilfully designed equipment; and the memory of past glories;—­all these did not avail to save it from defeat at the hands of an enemy who only began to organise a fleet when the Athenians had invaded his coast waters.

Ideal perfection as a regular army has never been so nearly reached as by that of Sparta.  The Spartan spent his life in the barrack and the mess-room; his amusements were the exercises of the parade ground.  For many generations a Spartan force had never been defeated in a pitched battle.  We have had, in modern times, some instances of a hectoring soldiery arrogantly prancing amongst populations whose official defenders it had defeated in battle; but nonesuch could vie with the Spartans in the sublimity of their military self-esteem.  Overweening confidence in the prowess of her army led Sparta to trample with ruthless disdain on the rights of others.  The iniquitous attack on Thebes, a state thought incapable of effectual resentment, was avenged by the defeat of Leuctra, which announced the end of the political supremacy and the military predominance of Sparta.

In the series of struggles with Carthage which resulted in putting Rome in a position enabling her eventually to win the dominion of the ancient world, the issue was to be decided on the water.  Carthage was essentially a maritime state.  The foundation of the city was effected by a maritime expedition; its dominions lay on the neighbouring coast or in regions to which the Carthaginians could penetrate only by traversing the sea.  To Carthage her fleet was ‘all in all’:  her navy, supported by large revenues and continuously maintained, was more of a ‘regular’ force than any modern navy before the second half of the seventeenth century.  The Romans were almost without a fleet, and when they formed one the undertaking was ridiculed by the Carthaginians with an unconcealed assumption of superiority.  The defeat of the latter off Mylae, the first of several, came as a great surprise to them, and, as we can see now, indicated the eventual ruin of their city.

We are so familiar with stories of the luxury and corruption of the Romans during the decline of the empire that we are likely to forget that the decline went on for centuries, and that their armed forces, however recruited, presented over and over again abundant signs of physical courage and vigour.  The victory of Stilicho over Alaric at Pollentia has been aptly paralleled with that of Marius over the Cimbri.  This was by no means the only achievement of the Roman army of the decadence.  A century and a quarter later—­when the Empire of the West had fallen and the general decline had made further progress—­Belisarius conducted successful campaigns in Persia, in North