a breathing time, even at the expense of losing her annual outing.  And so indeed the people were inclined to do.  But the summer was icumen in; and what were consuls and Senate for?  Should they be as these irresponsibles of the comitia?  Should they fail to look about them and take thought?—­As if someone should offer you a cottage (with all modern appointments) by the seaside, or farmhouse among the mountains, free of rent for July and August, here were all the respectabilities of the East cooingly inviting Rome to spend her summer with them; they to provide all accessories for a really enjoyable time.

In this way eastern politics assorted themselves,—­thus was the Levant divided:  on the one hand you had the traditional seats of militariasm; on the other, famous names—­and the heirs to the glory (a good deal tarnished now) that once had been Greece.  The former were Macedon and Syria, or Macedon with Syria in the background; what better could you ask that a good square se-to with these?  Oh, one at a time; that was the fine old Roman way; divide et impera; Mecedon now, and, a-grace of God, Syria—­But let be; we are talking of this summer; for next, the Lord (painted bright vermilion) it may be hoped will provide.  So for the present Philip of Mecedon figures as the desired enemy.—­As to the other side, the famous names to be our allies, they are:  Egypt, chief seat in recent centuries of culture and literature, and incidentally the Golconda of the time, endowed past dreaming of with commerce, wealth, and industries; and Rhodes, rich and republican, and learned too; and the sacred name of Athens; and Pergamum in Asia, cultured Attalus’s kingdom.  Are we not to ally ourselves with the arts and humanities, with old fame, with the most precious of traditions?—­For Rome, it must be said, was not all Catos:  there was something in her by this time that could thrill to the name of Greece.  And Philip had been in league with Hannibal, though truly he had left him shamefully unsupported. Philip had been in league with Hannibal—­with Hannibal!—­Why, it was a glorious unsought fight, such as only fortune’s favored soldiers might attain.  The comitia vote against it?  They say Hannibal has made them somewhat tired?—­Nonsense! let ’em vote again! let ’em vote again!—­They do so; assured pithily that it is only a question whether we fight Philip in Macedon, or he us on our own Italian soil.  Of course, if you put it that way, it is Hobson’s choice:  the voting goes all right this time.  So we are embarked on the great Eastern Adventure; and Flamininus sets out for Greece.