ABSTRACT
Up to this moment the Roman Empire had for nearly six centuries held back the ceaselessly menacing pressure of the barbarians, by the help of her admirable network of fortresses and fortified camps, in which the 400,000 legionaries of her permanent armies mounted guard. In the end, Rome had come to believe herself invincible and immortal. In the third century she had resisted the gravest attack which had been made upon her since the invasions of the Gauls, Teutons, and Cimbri, and after fifty years of struggle Aurelius, Claudius, and Diocletian had succeeded in restoring the military strength of the empire. But already a policy, which believed itself adroit and was in fact merely short-sighted, had allowed a gradual interpenetration of the Roman edifice, which was fatal to its solidity. Many barbarian elements had been introduced into the provinces; and barbarians of all races had been enrolled in the legions, under the title of auxiliaries (læti, fœderati), both individually and in groups. A large number of prisoners of war had been distributed among the great estates, which they cultivated as coloni. "The barbarians," said Probus, "work for us, sow for us and fight for us." It was a dangerous expedient, for it preserved an illusion of strength and security in a weakened state, increased the general lack of patriotism, relaxed social discipline, and diminished the sentiments of vigilance and energy.
