be quite wrong in giving Europe as long a period for its manvantaras as China; possibly there were no manvantaric activities in Europe, in that period, before the rise of Greece.  But whether or no, this particular time belongs, of all European countries, to Greece:  the genius of the world, the energy of the human spirit, was mainly concentrated there; and of Greece, in the single not too large city of Athens.  It is true I am rather enamored of the cycle of a hundred and thirty years; prejudiced, if you like, in its favor; it is also true that genius was speaking through at least one world-important Athenian voice—­ that of Aeschylus—­before the age of Pericles began.  Still, these dates are significant:  477, in which year Athens attained the hegemony of Greece, and 347, in which Plato died.  It was after 477 that Aeschylus eagle-barked the grandest part of his message from the Soul, and that the great Periclean figures appeared; and though Athenians of genius out-lived Plato, he was the last world-figure and great Soul-Prophet; the last Athenian equal in standing to Aeschylus.  When those thirteen decades had passed, the Soul had little more to say through Athens.—­ Aristotle?—­I said, the Soul had little more to say. . . .

About midway through that cycle came Aegospotami, and the destruction of the Long Walls and of the Empire; but these did not put an end to Athenian significance.  Mahaffy very wisely goes to work to dethrone the Peloponnesian War—­as he does, too, the Persian—­from the eminence it has been given in the textbooks ever since.  As usual, we get a lopsided view from the historians:  in this case from Thucydides, who slurred through a sort of synopsis of the far more important and world-interesting mid-fifth century, and then dealt microscopically with these twenty-five years or so of trumpery raidings, petty excursions and small alarms.  That naval battle at Syracuse, which Creasy puts with Marathon in his famous fifteen, was utterly unimportant:  tardy Nicias might have won all through, and still Athens would have fallen.  Her political foundations were on the sand.  Under Persia you stood a much better chance of enjoying good government and freedom:  Persian rule was far less oppressive and cruel.  The states and islands subject to Athens had no self-government, no representation; they were at the mercy of the Athenian mob, to be taxed, bullied, and pommeled about as that fickle irresponsible tyranny might elect or be swayed to pommel, tax, and bully them.  Thucydides was a great master of prose style, and so could invest with an air of importance all the matter of his tale.  Besides, he was the only contemporary historian, or the only one that survives.  So the world ever since has been tricked into thinking this Peloponnesian War momentous; whereas really it was a petty family squabble among that most family-squabblesome of peoples, the Greeks.—­In most of which I am only quoting Mahaffy; who, whether intentionally or not, deals with Greek history in such a way as to show the utter unimportance, irrelevance, futility, of war.