them all? History was ransacked for instances of adventurers who,
by the help of mercenary troops, had subjugated free nations or
deposed legitimate princes; and such instances were easily found.
Much was said about Pisistratus, Timophanes, Dionysius,
Agathocles, Marius and Sylla, Julius Caesar and Augustus Caesar,
Carthage besieged by her own mercenaries, Rome put up to auction
by her own Praetorian cohorts, Sultan Osman butchered by his own
Janissaries, Lewis Sforza sold into captivity by his own
Switzers. But the favourite instance was taken from the recent
history of our own land. Thousands still living had seen the
great usurper, who, strong in the power of the sword, had
triumphed over both royalty and freedom. The Tories were reminded
that his soldiers had guarded the scaffold before the Banqueting
House. The Whigs were reminded that those same soldiers had taken
the mace from the table of the House of Commons. From such evils,
it was said, no country could be secure which was cursed with a
standing army. And what were the advantages which could be set
off against such evils? Invasion was the bugbear with which the
Court tried to frighten the nation. But we were not children to
be scared by nursery tales. We were at peace; and, even in time
of war, an enemy who should attempt to invade us would probably
be intercepted by our fleet, and would assuredly, if he reached
our shores, be repelled by our militia. Some people indeed talked
as if a militia could achieve nothing great. But that base
doctrine was refuted by all ancient and all modern history. What
was the Lacedaemonian phalanx in the best days of Lacedaemon?
What was, the Roman legion in the best days of Rome? What were
the armies which conquered at Cressy, at Poitiers, at Agincourt,
at Halidon, or at Flodden? What was that mighty array which
Elizabeth reviewed at Tilbury? In the fourteenth, fifteenth, and