Part I. p. 309].

Produced by John Bickers, and Dagny

CYROPAEDIA

THE EDUCATION OF CYRUS

By Xenophon

Translated By Henry Graham Dakyns

Revised By F. M. Stawell

DEDICATION

To Clifton College

PREPARER'S NOTE

This was typed from an Everyman's Library edition. It seems that Dakyns

died before Cyropaedia could be included as the planned fourth and final

volume of his series, "The Works of Xenophon," published in the 1890s by

Macmillan and Co. The works in that series can all be found in Project

Gutenberg under their individual titles. The complete list of Xenophon's

works (though there is doubt about some of these) is:

Work Number of books

The Anabasis 7

The Hellenica 7

The Cyropaedia 8

The Memorabilia 4

The Symposium 1

The Economist 1

On Horsemanship 1

The Sportsman 1

The Cavalry General 1

The Apology 1

On Revenues 1

The Hiero 1

The Agesilaus 1

The Polity of the Athenians and the Lacedaemonians 2

Text in brackets "{}" is my transliteration of Greek text into English

using an Oxford English Dictionary alphabet table. The diacritical marks

have been lost.

INTRODUCTION

A very few words may suffice by way of introduction to this translation

of the _Cyropaedia_.

Professor Jowett, whose Plato represents the high-water mark of

classical translation, has given us the following reminders: "An English

translation ought to be idiomatic and interesting, not only to the

scholar, but also to the unlearned reader. It should read as an original

work, and should also be the most faithful transcript which can be made

of the language from which the translation is taken, consistently with

the first requirement of all, that it be English. The excellence of a

translation will consist, not merely in the faithful rendering of words,

or in the composition of a sentence only, or yet of a single paragraph,

but in the colour and style of the whole work."

These tests may be safely applied to the work of Mr. Dakyns. An

accomplished Greek scholar, for many years a careful and sympathetic

student of Xenophon, and possessing a rare mastery of English idiom,

he was unusually well equipped for the work of a translator. And

his version will, as I venture to think, be found to satisfy those

requirements of an effective translation which Professor Jowett laid

down. It is faithful to the tone and spirit of the original, and it has

the literary quality of a good piece of original English writing. For

these and other reasons it should prove attractive and interesting

reading for the average Englishman.

Xenophon, it must be admitted, is not, like Plato, Thucydides, or

Demosthenes, one of the greatest of Greek writers, but there are several

considerations which should commend him to the general reader. He is

more representative of the type of man whom the ordinary Englishman

specially admires and respects, than any other of the Greek authors

usually read.

An Athenian of good social position, endowed with a gift of eloquence

and of literary style, a pupil of Socrates, a distinguished soldier,

an historian, an essayist, a sportsman, and a lover of the country, he

represents a type of country gentleman greatly honoured in English life,

and this should ensure a favourable reception for one of his chief works

admirably rendered into idiomatic English. And the substance of the

_Cyropaedia_, which is in fact a political romance, describing the

education of the ideal ruler, trained to rule as a benevolent despot

over his admiring and willing subjects, should add a further element of

enjoyment for the reader of this famous book in its English garb.

J. HEREFORD.

EDITOR'S NOTE

In preparing this work for the press, I came upon some notes made by Mr.

Dakyns on the margin of his Xenophon. These were evidently for his own

private use, and are full of scholarly colloquialisms, impromptu words

humorously invented for the need of the moment, and individual turns of

phrase, such as the references to himself under his initials in small

letters, "hgd." Though plainly not intended for publication, the notes

are so vivid and illuminating as they stand that I have shrunk from

putting them into a more formal dress, believing that here, as in the

best letters, the personal element is bound up with what is most fresh

and living in the comment, most characteristic of the writer, and most

delightful both to those who knew him and to those who will wish they

had. I have, therefore, only altered a word here and there, and added

a note or two of my own (always in square brackets), where it seemed

necessary for the sake of clearness.

F. M. S.

CYROPAEDIA

THE EDUCATION OF CYRUS

BOOK I

[C.1] We have had occasion before now to reflect how often democracies

have been overthrown by the desire for some other type of government,

how often monarchies and oligarchies have been swept away by movements

of the people, how often would-be despots have fallen in their turn,

some at the outset by one stroke, while whose who have maintained their

rule for ever so brief a season are looked upon with wonder as marvels

of sagacity and success.

The same lesson, we had little doubt, was to be learnt from the family:

the household might be great or small--even the master of few could

hardly count on the obedience of his little flock. [2] And so, one idea

leading to another, we came to shape our reflexions thus: Drovers may

certainly be called the rulers of their cattle and horse-breeders

the rulers of their studs--all herdsmen, in short, may reasonably be

considered the governors of the animals they guard. If, then, we were to

believe the evidence of our senses, was it not obvious that flocks and

herds were more ready to obey their keepers than men their rulers? Watch

the cattle wending their way wherever their herdsmen guide them, see

them grazing in the pastures where they are sent and abstaining from

forbidden grounds, the fruit of their own bodies they yield to their

master to use as he thinks best; nor have we ever seen one flock among

them all combining against their guardian, either to disobey him or to

refuse him the absolute control of their produce. On the contrary, they

are more apt to show hostility against other animals than against

the owner who derives advantage from them. But with man the rule is

converse; men unite against none so readily as against those whom they

see attempting to rule over them. [3] As long, therefore, as we followed

these reflexions, we could not but conclude that man is by nature fitted

to govern all creatures, except his fellow-man. But when we came to

realise the character of Cyrus the Persian, we were led to a change

of mind: here is a man, we said, who won for himself obedience from

thousands of his fellows, from cities and tribes innumerable: we must

ask ourselves whether the government of men is after all an impossible

or even a difficult task, provided one set about it in the right way.

Cyrus, we know, found the readiest obedience in his subjects, though

some of them dwelt at a distance which it would take days and months to

traverse, and among them were men who had never set eyes on him, and for

the matter of that could never hope to do so, and yet they were willing

to obey him. [4] Cyrus did indeed eclipse all other monarchs, before or

since, and I include not only those who have inherited their power, but

those who have won empire by their own exertions. How far he surpassed

them all may be felt if we remember that no Scythian, although

the Scythians are reckoned by their myriads, has ever succeeded in

dominating a foreign nation; indeed the Scythian would be well content

could he but keep his government unbroken over his own tribe and people.

The same is true of the Thracians and the Illyrians, and indeed of all

other nations within our ken; in Europe, at any rate, their condition is

even now one of independence, and of such separation as would seem to

be permanent. Now this was the state in which Cyrus found the tribes and

peoples of Asia when, at the head of a small Persian force, he started

on his career. The Medes and the Hyrcanians accepted his leadership

willingly, but it was through conquest that he won Syria, Assyria,

Arabia, Cappadocia, the two Phrygias, Lydia, Caria, Phoenicia, and

Babylonia. Then he established his rule over the Bactrians, Indians, and

Cilicians, over the Sakians, Paphlagonians, and Magadidians, over a

host of other tribes the very names of which defy the memory of the

chronicler; and last of all he brought the Hellenes in Asia beneath his

sway, and by a descent on the seaboard Cyprus and Egypt also.

[5] It is obvious that among this congeries of nations few, if any,

could have spoken the same language as himself, or understood one

another, but none the less Cyrus was able so to penetrate that vast

extent of country by the sheer terror of his personality that the

inhabitants were prostrate before him: not one of them dared lift hand

against him. And yet he was able, at the same time, to inspire them all

with so deep a desire to please him and win his favour that all they

asked was to be guided by his judgment and his alone. Thus he knit to

himself a complex of nationalities so vast that it would have taxed a

man's endurance merely to traverse his empire in any one direction, east

or west or south or north, from the palace which was its centre. For

ourselves, considering his title to our admiration proved, we set

ourselves to inquire what his parentage might have been and his natural

parts, and how he was trained and brought up to attain so high a pitch

of excellence in the government of men. And all we could learn from

others about him or felt we might infer for ourselves we will here

endeavour to set forth.

[C.2] The father of Cyrus, so runs the story, was Cambyses, a king

of the Persians, and one of the Perseidae, who look to Perseus as

the founder of their race. His mother, it is agreed, was Mandane, the

daughter of Astyages, king of the Medes. Of Cyrus himself, even now in

the songs and stories of the East the record lives that nature made him

most fair to look upon, and set in his heart the threefold love of

man, of knowledge, and of honour. He would endure all labours, he would

undergo all dangers, for the sake of glory. [2] Blest by nature with

such gifts of soul and body, his memory lives to this day in the mindful

heart of ages. It is true that he was brought up according to the laws

and customs of the Persians, and of these laws it must be noted that

while they aim, as laws elsewhere, at the common weal, their guiding

principle is far other than that which most nations follow. Most states

permit their citizens to bring up their own children at their own

discretion, and allow the grown men to regulate their own lives at their

own will, and then they lay down certain prohibitions, for example, not

to pick and steal, not to break into another man's house, not to strike

a man unjustly, not to commit adultery, not to disobey the magistrate,

and so forth; and on the transgressor they impose a penalty. [3] But the

Persian laws try, as it were, to steal a march on time, to make their

citizens from the beginning incapable of setting their hearts on any

wickedness or shameful conduct whatsoever. And this is how they set

about their object.

In their cities they have an open place or square dedicated to Freedom

(Free Square they call it), where stand the palace and other public

buildings. From this place all goods for sale are rigidly excluded, and

all hawkers and hucksters with their yells and cries and vulgarities.

They must go elsewhere, so that their clamour may not mingle with and

mar the grace and orderliness of the educated classes. [4] This square,

where the public buildings stand, is divided into four quarters which

are assigned as follows: one for the boys, another for the youths, a

third for the grown men, and the last for those who are past the age

of military service. The law requires all the citizens to present

themselves at certain times and seasons in their appointed places. The

lads and the grown men must be there at daybreak; the elders may, as a

rule, choose their own time, except on certain fixed days, when they too

are expected to present themselves like the rest. Moreover, the young

men are bound to sleep at night round the public buildings, with their

arms at their side; only the married men among them are exempt, and need

not be on duty at night unless notice has been given, though even in

their case frequent absence is thought unseemly. [5] Over each of these

divisions are placed twelve governors, twelve being the number of the

Persian tribes. The governors of the boys are chosen from the elders,

and those are appointed who are thought best fitted to make the best of

their lads: the governors of the youths are selected from the grown men,

and on the same principle; and for the grown men themselves and their

own governors; the choice falls on those who will, it is hoped, make

them most prompt to carry out their appointed duties, and fulfil

the commands imposed by the supreme authority. Finally, the elders

themselves have presidents of their own, chosen to see that they too

perform their duty to the full.

[6] We will now describe the services demanded from the different

classes, and thus it will appear how the Persians endeavour to improve

their citizens. The boys go to school and give their time to learning

justice and righteousness: they will tell you they come for that

purpose, and the phrase is as natural with them as it is for us to speak

of lads learning their letters. The masters spend the chief part of the

day in deciding cases for their pupils: for in this boy-world, as in the

grown-up world without, occasions of indictment are never far to seek.

There will be charges, we know, of picking and stealing, of violence, of

fraud, of calumny, and so forth. The case is heard and the offender, if

shown to be guilty, is punished. [7] Nor does he escape who is found to

have accused one of his fellows unfairly. And there is one charge the

judges do not hesitate to deal with, a charge which is the source of

much hatred among grown men, but which they seldom press in the courts,

the charge of ingratitude. The culprit convicted of refusing to repay

a debt of kindness when it was fully in his power meets with severe

chastisement. They reason that the ungrateful man is the most likely to

forget his duty to the gods, to his parents, to his fatherland, and

his friends. Shamelessness, they hold, treads close on the heels of

ingratitude, and thus ingratitude is the ringleader and chief instigator

to every kind of baseness. [8] Further, the boys are instructed in

temperance and self-restraint, and they find the utmost help towards

the attainment of this virtue in the self-respecting behaviour of

their elders, shown them day by day. Then they are taught to obey their

rulers, and here again nothing is of greater value than the studied

obedience to authority manifested by their elders everywhere. Continence

in meat and drink is another branch of instruction, and they have no

better aid in this than, first, the example of their elders, who never

withdraw to satisfy their carnal cravings until those in authority

dismiss them, and next, the rule that the boys must take their food, not

with their mother but with their master, and not till the governor gives

the sign. They bring from home the staple of their meal, dry bread

with nasturtium for a relish, and to slake their thirst they bring a

drinking-cup, to dip in the running stream. In addition, they are taught

to shoot with the bow and to fling the javelin.

The lads follow their studies till the age of sixteen or seventeen, and

then they take their places as young men.

[9] After that they spend their time as follows. For ten years they are

bound to sleep at night round the public buildings, as we said before,

and this for two reasons, to guard the community and to practise

self-restraint; because that season of life, the Persians conceive,

stands most in need of care. During the day they present themselves

before the governors for service to the state, and, whenever necessary,

they remain in a body round the public buildings. Moreover, when the

king goes out to hunt, which he will do several times a month, he takes

half the company with him, and each man must carry bow and arrows, a

sheathed dagger, or "sagaris," slung beside the quiver, a light shield,

and two javelins, one to hurl and the other to use, if need be, at close

quarters. [10] The reason of this public sanction for the chase is not

far to seek; the king leads just as he does in war, hunting in person

at the head of the field, and making his men follow, because it is felt

that the exercise itself is the best possible training for the needs of

war. It accustoms a man to early rising; it hardens him to endure heat

and cold; it teaches him to march and to run at the top of his speed; he

must perforce learn to let fly arrow and javelin the moment the quarry

is across his path; and, above all, the edge of his spirit must needs be

sharpened by encountering any of the mightier beasts: he must deal his

stroke when the creature closes, and stand on guard when it makes its

rush: indeed, it would be hard to find a case in war that has not its

parallel in the chase. [11] But to proceed: the young men set out

with provisions that are ampler, naturally, than the boys' fare, but

otherwise the same. During the chase itself they would not think of

breaking their fast, but if a halt is called, to beat up the game, or

for any hunter's reason, then they will make, as it were, a dinner of

their breakfast, and, hunting again on the morrow till dinner-time, they

will count the two days as one, because they have only eaten one day's

food. This they do in order that, if the like necessity should arise in

war, they may be found equal to it. As relish to their bread these

young men have whatever they may kill in the chase, or failing that,

nasturtium like the boys. And if one should ask how they can enjoy the

meal with nasturtium for their only condiment and water for their only

drink, let him bethink himself how sweet barley bread and wheaten can

taste to the hungry man and water to the thirsty. [12] As for the young

men who are left at home, they spend their time in shooting and hurling

the javelin, and practising all they learnt as boys, in one long trial

of skill. Beside this, public games are open to them and prizes are

offered; and the tribe which can claim the greatest number of lads

distinguished for skill and courage and faithfulness is given the meed

of praise from all the citizens, who honour, not only their present

governor, but the teacher who trained them when they were boys.

Moreover, these young men are also employed by the magistrates if

garrison work needs to be done or if malefactors are to be tracked or

robbers run down, or indeed on any errand which calls for strength of

limb and fleetness of foot. Such is the life of the youth. But when the

ten years are accomplished they are classed as grown men. [13] And from

this time forth for five-and-twenty years they live as follows.

First they present themselves, as in youth, before the magistrates for

service to the state wherever there is need for strength and sound sense

combined. If an expedition be on foot the men of this grade march out,

not armed with the bow or the light shield any longer, but equipped with

what are called the close-combat arms, a breastplate up to the throat,

a buckler on the left arm (just as the Persian warrior appears in

pictures), and for the right hand a dagger or a sword. Lastly, it

is from this grade that all the magistrates are appointed except the

teachers for the boys. But when the five-and-twenty years are over and

the men have reached the age of fifty years or more, then they take rank

as elders, and the title is deserved. [14] These elders no longer go on

military service beyond the frontier; they stay at home and decide all

cases, public and private both. Even capital charges are left to their

decision, and it is they who choose all the magistrates. If a youth or

a grown man breaks the law he is brought into court by the governors of

his tribe, who act as suitors in the case, aided by any other citizen

who pleases. The cause is heard before the elders and they pronounce

judgment; and the man who is condemned is disenfranchised for the rest

of his days.

[15] And now, to complete the picture of the whole Persian policy, I

will go back a little. With the help of what has been said before, the

account may now be brief; the Persians are said to number something

like one hundred and twenty thousand men: and of these no one is by

law debarred from honour or office. On the contrary, every Persian is

entitled to send his children to the public schools of righteousness

and justice. As a fact, all who can afford to bring up their children

without working do send them there: those who cannot must forego the

privilege. A lad who has passed through a public school has a right

to go and take his place among the youths, but those who have not gone

through the first course may not join them. In the same way the youths

who have fulfilled the duties of their class are entitled eventually

to rank with the men, and to share in office and honour: but they

must first spend their full time among the youths; if not, they go no

further. Finally, those who as grown men have lived without reproach may

take their station at last among the elders. Thus these elders form a

college, every member of which has passed through the full circle

of noble learning; and this is that Persian polity and that Persian

training which, in their belief, can win them the flower of excellence.

[16] And even to this day signs are left bearing witness to that ancient

temperance of theirs and the ancient discipline that preserved it.

To this day it is still considered shameful for a Persian to spit in

public, or wipe the nose, or show signs of wind, or be seen going apart

for his natural needs. And they could not keep to this standard unless

they were accustomed to a temperate diet, and were trained to exercise

and toil, so that the humours of the body were drawn off in other ways.

Hitherto we have spoken of the Persians as a whole: we will now go back

to our starting-point and recount the deeds of Cyrus from his childhood.

[C.3] Until he was twelve years old or more, Cyrus was brought up in the

manner we have described, and showed himself to be above all his fellows

in his aptitude for learning and in the noble and manly performance of

every duty. But about this time, Astyages sent for his daughter and her

son, desiring greatly to see him because he had heard how noble and fair

he was. So it fell out that Mandane came to Astyages, bringing her son

Cyrus with her. [2] And as soon as they met, the boy, when he heard

that Astyages was his mother's father, fell on his neck and kissed him

without more ado, like the loving lad nature had made him, as though he

had been brought up at his grandfather's side from the first and the two

of them had been playmates of old. Then he looked closer and saw that

the king's eyes were stencilled and his cheeks painted, and that he

wore false curls after the fashion of the Medes in those days (for these

adornments, and the purple robes, the tunics, the necklaces, and the

bracelets, they are all Median first and last, not Persian; the Persian,

as you find him at home even now-a-days, still keeps to his

plainer dress and his plainer style of living.) The boy, seeing his

grandfather's splendour, kept his eyes fixed on him, and cried, "Oh,

mother, how beautiful my grandfather is!" Then his mother asked him

which he thought the handsomer, his father or his grandfather, and he

answered at once, "My father is the handsomest of all the Persians, but

my grandfather much the handsomest of all the Medes I ever set eyes on,

at home or abroad." [3] At that Astyages drew the child to his heart,

and gave him a beautiful robe and bracelets and necklaces in sign of

honour, and when he rode out, the boy must ride beside him on a horse

with a golden bridle, just like King Astyages himself. And Cyrus, who

had a soul as sensitive to beauty as to honour, was pleased with the

splendid robe, and overjoyed at learning to ride, for a horse is a rare

sight in Persia, a mountainous country, and one little suited to the

breed.

[4] Now Cyrus and his mother sat at meat with the king, and Astyages,

wishing the lad to enjoy the feast and not regret his home, plied him

with dainties of every sort. At that, so says the story, Cyrus burst

out, "Oh, grandfather, what trouble you must give yourself reaching for

all these dishes and tasting all these wonderful foods!" "Ah, but," said

Astyages, "is not this a far better meal than you ever had in Persia?"

Thereupon, as the tale runs, Cyrus answered, "Our way, grandfather, is

much shorter than yours, and much simpler. We are hungry and wish to be

fed, and bread and meat brings us where we want to be at once, but you

Medes, for all your haste, take so many turns and wind about so much it

is a wonder if you ever find your way to the goal that we have reached

long ago." [5] "Well, my lad," said his grandfather, "we are not at all

averse to the length of the road: taste the dishes for yourself and see

how good they are." "One thing I do see," the boy said, "and that is

that you do not quite like them yourself." And when Astyages asked him

how he felt so sure of that, Cyrus answered, "Because when you touch an

honest bit of bread you never wipe your hands, but if you take one of

these fine kickshaws you turn to your napkin at once, as if you were

angry to find your fingers soiled." [6] "Well and good, my lad, well and

good," said the king, "only feast away yourself and make good cheer,

and we shall send you back to Persia a fine strong fellow." And with the

word he had dishes of meat and game set before his grandson. The boy was

taken aback by their profusion, and exclaimed, "Grandfather, do you give

me all this for myself, to do what I like with it?" "Certainly I do,"

said the king. [7] Whereupon, without more ado, the boy Cyrus took first

one dish and then another and gave them to the attendants who stood

about his grandfather, and with each gift he made a little speech: "That

is for you, for so kindly teaching me to ride;" "And that is for you, in

return for the javelin you gave me, I have got it still;" "And this is

for you, because you wait on my grandfather so prettily;" "And this for

you, sir, because you honour my mother." And so on until he had got rid

of all the meat he had been given. [8] "But you do not give a single

piece to Sacas, my butler," quoth the grandfather, "and I honour

him more than all the rest." Now this Sacas, as one may guess, was a

handsome fellow, and he had the right to bring before the king all who

desired audience, to keep them back if he thought the time unseasonable.

But Cyrus, in answer to his grandfather's question retorted eagerly,

like a lad who did not know what fear meant, "And why should you honour

him so much, grandfather?" Then Astyages laughed and said, "Can you not

see how prettily he mixes the cup, and with what a grace he serves the

wine?" And indeed, these royal cup-bearers are neat-handed at their

task, mixing the bowl with infinite elegance, and pouring the wine into

the beakers without spilling a drop, and when they hand the goblet they

poise it deftly between thumb and finger for the banqueter to take. [9]

"Now, grandfather," said the boy, "tell Sacas to give me the bowl,

and let me pour out the wine as prettily as he if I can, and win your

favour." So the king bade the butler hand him the bowl, and Cyrus took

it and mixed the wine just as he had seen Sacas do, and then, showing

the utmost gravity and the greatest deftness and grace, he brought

the goblet to his grandfather and offered it with such an air that his

mother and Astyages, too, laughed outright, and then Cyrus burst out

laughing also, and flung his arms round his grandfather and kissed him,

crying, "Sacas, your day is done! I shall oust you from your office, you

may be sure. I shall make just as pretty a cup-bearer as you--and not

drink the wine myself!" For it is the fact that the king's butler when

he offers the wine is bound to dip a ladle in the cup first, and pour

a little in the hollow of his hand and sip it, so that if he has mixed

poison in the bowl it will do him no good himself. [10] Accordingly,

Astyages, to carry on the jest, asked the little lad why he had

forgotten to taste the wine though he had imitated Sacas in everything

else. And the boy answered, "Truly, I was afraid there might be poison

in the bowl. For when you gave your birthday feast to your friends I

could see quite plainly that Sacas had put in poison for you all." "And

how did you discover that, my boy?" asked the king. "Because I saw how

your wits reeled and how you staggered; and you all began doing what you

will not let us children do--you talked at the top of your voices, and

none of you understood a single word the others said, and then you began

singing in a way to make us laugh, and though you would not listen to

the singer you swore that it was right nobly sung, and then each of you

boasted of his own strength, and yet as soon as you got up to dance, so

far from keeping time to the measure, you could barely keep your legs.

And you seemed quite to have forgotten, grandfather, that you were

king, and your subjects that you were their sovereign. Then at last I

understood that you must be celebrating that 'free speech' we hear of;

at any rate, you were never silent for an instant." [11] "Well, but,

boy," said Astyages, "does your father never lose his head when he

drinks?" "Certainly not," said the boy. "What happens then?" asked the

king. "He quenches his thirst," answered Cyrus, "and that is all. No

harm follows. You see, he has no Sacas to mix his wine for him." "But,

Cyrus," put in his mother, "why are you so unkind to Sacas?" "Because I

do so hate him," answered the boy. "Time after time when I have wanted

to go to my grandfather this old villain has stopped me. Do please,

grandfather, let me manage him for three days." "And how would you set

about it?" Astyages asked. "Why," said the boy, "I will plant myself

in the doorway just as he does, and then when he wants to go in to

breakfast I will say 'You cannot have breakfast yet: HE is busy with

some people,' and when he comes for dinner I will say 'No dinner yet: HE

is in his bath,' and as he grows ravenous I will say 'Wait a little: HE

is with the ladies of the court,' until I have plagued and tormented him

as he torments me, keeping me away from you, grandfather, when I want to

come." [12] Thus the boy delighted his elders in the evening, and by

day if he saw that his grandfather or his uncle wanted anything, no one

could forestall him in getting it; indeed nothing seemed to give him

greater pleasure than to please them.

[13] Now when Mandane began to think of going back to her husband,

Astyages begged her to leave the boy behind. She answered that though

she wished to please her father in everything, it would be hard to leave

the boy against his will. [14] Then the old man turned to Cyrus: "My

boy, if you will stay with us, Sacas shall never stop you from coming to

me: you shall be free to come whenever you choose, and the oftener you

come the better it will please me. You shall have horses to ride, my

own and as many others as you like, and when you leave us you shall take

them with you. And at dinner you shall go your own away and follow your

own path to your own goal of temperance just as you think right. And I

will make you a present of all the game in my parks and paradises, and

collect more for you, and as soon as you have learnt to ride you shall

hunt and shoot and hurl the javelin exactly like a man. And you shall

have boys to play with and anything else you wish for: you have only to

ask me and it shall be yours." [15] Then his mother questioned the

boy and asked him whether he would rather stay with his grandfather

in Media, or go back home with her: and he said at once that he would

rather stay. And when she went on to ask him the reason, he answered, so

the story says, "Because at home I am thought to be the best of the lads

at shooting and hurling the javelin, and so I think I am: but here I

know I am the worst at riding, and that you may be sure, mother, annoys

me exceedingly. Now if you leave me here and I learn to ride, when I am

back in Persia you shall see, I promise you, that I will outdo all our

gallant fellows on foot, and when I come to Media again I will try and

show my grandfather that, for all his splendid cavalry, he will not have

a stouter horseman than his grandson to fight his battles for him." [16]

Then said his mother, "But justice and righteousness, my son, how can

you learn them here when your teachers are at home?" "Oh," said Cyrus,

"I know all about them already." "How do you know that you do?" asked

Mandane. "Because," answered the boy, "before I left home my master

thought I had learnt enough to decide the cases, and he set me to try

the suits. Yes! and I remember once, said he, "I got a whipping for

misjudgment. [17] I will tell you about that case. There were two boys,

a big boy and a little boy, and the big boy's coat was small and the

small boy's coat was huge. So the big boy stripped the little boy and

gave him his own small coat, while he put on the big one himself. Now in

giving judgment I decided that it was better for both parties that each

should have the coat that fitted him best. But I never got any further

in my sentence, because the master thrashed me here, and said that the

verdict would have been excellent if I had been appointed to say what

fitted and what did not, but I had been called in to decide to whom the

coat belonged, and the point to consider was, who had a right to it: Was

he who took a thing by violence to keep it, or he who had had it made

and bought it for his own? And the master taught me that what is lawful

is just and what is in the teeth of law is based on violence, and

therefore, he said, the judge must always see that his verdict tallies

with the law. So you see, mother, I have the whole of justice at my

fingers' ends already. And if there should be anything more I need to

know, why, I have my grandfather beside me, and he will always give me

lessons." [18] "But," rejoined his mother, "what everyone takes to be

just and righteous at your grandfather's court is not thought to be so

in Persia. For instance, your own grandfather has made himself master

over all and sundry among the Medes, but with the Persians equality is

held to be an essential part of justice: and first and foremost, your

father himself must perform his appointed services to the state and

receive his appointed dues: and the measure of these is not his own

caprice but the law. Have a care then, or you may be scourged to death

when you come home to Persia, if you learn in your grandfather's school

to love not kingship but tyranny, and hold the tyrant's belief that he

and he alone should have more than all the rest." "Ah, but, mother,"

said the boy, "my grandfather is better at teaching people to have

less than their share, not more. Cannot you see," he cried, "how he

has taught all the Medes to have less than himself? So set your mind

at rest, mother, my grandfather will never make me, or any one else, an

adept in the art of getting too much."

[C.4] So the boy's tongue ran on. But at last his mother went home, and

Cyrus stayed behind and was brought up in Media. He soon made friends

with his companions and found his way to their hearts, and soon won

their parents by the charm of his address and the true affection he bore

their sons, so much so that when they wanted a favour from the king

they bade their children ask Cyrus to arrange the matter for them.

And whatever it might be, the kindliness of the lad's heart and the

eagerness of his ambition made him set the greatest store on getting it

done. [2] On his side, Astyages could not bring himself to refuse his

grandson's lightest wish. For once, when he was sick, nothing would

induce the boy to leave his side; he could not keep back his tears, and

his terror at the thought that his grandfather might die was plain for

every one to see. If the old man needed anything during the night Cyrus

was the first to notice it, it was he who sprang up first to wait upon

him, and bring him what he thought would please him. Thus the old king's

heart was his.

[3] During these early days, it must be allowed, the boy was something

too much of a talker, in part, may be, because of his bringing-up. He

had been trained by his master, whenever he sat in judgment, to give a

reason for what he did, and to look for the like reason from others. And

moreover, his curiosity and thirst for knowledge were such that he must

needs inquire from every one he met the explanation of this, that, and

the other; and his own wits were so lively that he was ever ready with

an answer himself for any question put to him, so that talkativeness had

become, as it were, his second nature. But, just as in the body when a

boy is overgrown, some touch of youthfulness is sure to show itself

and tell the secret of his age, so for all the lad's loquacity, the

impression left on the listener was not of arrogance, but of simplicity

and warm-heartedness, and one would gladly have heard his chatter to the

end rather than have sat beside him and found him dumb.

[4] However, as he grew in stature and the years led him to the time

when childhood passes into youth he became more chary of his words and

quieter in his tone: at times, indeed, he was so shy that he would blush

in the presence of his elders, and there was little sign left of the old

forwardness, the impulsiveness of the puppy who will jump up on every

one, master and stranger alike. Thus he grew more sedate, but his

company was still most fascinating, and little wonder: for whenever it

came to a trial of skill between himself and his comrades he would never

challenge his mates to those feats in which he himself excelled: he

would start precisely one where he felt his own inferiority, averring

that he would outdo them all,--indeed, he would spring to horse in order

to shoot or hurl the javelin before he had got a firm seat--and

then, when he was worsted, he would be the first to laugh at his own

discomfiture. [5] He had no desire to escape defeat by giving up the

effort, but took glory in the resolution to do better another time,

and thus he soon found himself as good a horseman as his peers, and

presently, such was his ardour, he surpassed them all, and at last the

thinning of the game in the king's preserves began to show what he could

do. What with the chasing and the shooting and the spearing, the stock

of animals ran so low that Astyages was hard put to it to collect enough

for him. Then Cyrus, seeing that his grandfather for all his goodwill

could never furnish him with enough, came to him one day and said,

"Grandfather, why should you take so much trouble in finding game for

me? If only you would let me go out to hunt with my uncle, I could fancy

every beast we came across had been reared for my particular delight!"

[6] But however anxious the lad might be to go out to the chase, he had

somehow lost the old childish art of winning what he wanted by coaxing:

and he hesitated a long time before approaching the king again. If in

the old days he had quarrelled with Sacas for not letting him in, now

he began to play the part of Sacas against himself, and could not summon

courage to intrude until he thought the right moment had come: indeed,

he implored the real Sacas to let him know when he might venture. So

that the old butler's heart was won, and he, like the rest of the world,

was completely in love with the young prince.

[7] At last when Astyages saw that the lad's heart was really set on

hunting in the open country, he gave him leave to go out with his uncle,

taking care at the same time to send an escort of mounted veterans at

his heels, whose business it was to keep watch and ward over him in any

dangerous place or against any savage beast. Cyrus plied his retinue

with questions about the creatures they came across, which must he avoid

and which might he hunt? They told him he must be on his guard against

bears and wild-boars and lions and leopards: many a man had found

himself at too close quarters with these dangerous creatures, and been

torn to pieces: but antelopes, they said, and deer and mountain sheep

and wild asses were harmless enough. And the huntsman, they added, ought

to be as careful about dangerous places as about the beasts themselves:

many a time horse and rider had gone headlong down a precipice to death.

[8] The lad seemed to take all their lessons to heart at the time: but

then he saw a stag leap up, and forgot all the wise cautions he had

heard, giving chase forthwith, noticing nothing except the beast ahead

of him. His horse, in its furious plunge forward, slipped, and came down

on its knees, all but throwing the rider over its head. As luck would

have it the boy managed to keep his seat, and the horse recovered its

footing. When they reached the flat bottom, Cyrus let fly his javelin,

and the stag fell dead, a beautiful big creature. The lad was still

radiant with delight when up rode the guard and took him severely to

task. Could he not see the danger he had run? They would certainly tell

his grandfather, that they would. Cyrus, who had dismounted, stood quite

still and listened ruefully, hanging his head while they rated him. But

in the middle of it all he heard the view-halloo again: he sprang to his

horse as though frenzied--a wild-boar was charging down on them, and he

charged to meet it, and drawing his bow with the surest aim possible,

struck the beast in the forehead, and laid him low. [9] But now his

uncle thought it was high time to scold his nephew himself; the lad's

boldness was too much. Only, the more he scolded the more Cyrus begged

he would let him take back the spoil as a present for his grandfather.

To which appeal, says the story, his uncle made reply: "But if your

grandfather finds out that you have gone in chase yourself, he will not

only scold you for going but me for letting you go." "Well, let him whip

me if he likes," said the boy, "when once I have given him my beasts:

and you too, uncle," he went on, "punish me however you choose, only do

not refuse me this." So Cyaxares was forced to yield:--"Have it your own

way then, you are little less than our king already." [10] Thus it was

that Cyrus was allowed to bring his trophies home, and in due course

presented them to his grandfather. "See, grandfather, here are some

animals I have shot for you." But he did not show his weapons in

triumph: he only laid them down with the gore still on them where he

hoped his grandfather would see them. It is easy to guess the answer

Astyages gave:--"I must needs accept with pleasure every gift you bring

me, only I want none of them at the risk of your own life." And Cyrus

said, "If you really do not want them yourself, grandfather, will you

give them to me? And I will divide them among the lads." "With all my

heart," said the old man, "take them, or anything else you like; bestow

them where you will, and welcome." [11] So Cyrus carried off the spoil,

and divided it with his comrades, saying all the while, "What foolery

it was, when we used to hunt in the park! It was no better than hunting

creatures tied by a string. First of all, it was such a little bit of

a place, and then what scarecrows the poor beasts were, one halt,

and another maimed! But those real animals on the mountains and the

plains--what splendid beasts, so gigantic, so sleek and glossy! Why,

the stags leapt up against the sky as though they had wings, and the

wild-boars came rushing to close quarters like warriors in battle! And

thanks to their breadth and bulk one could not help hitting them. Why,

even as they lie dead there," cried he, "they look finer than those

poor walled-up creatures when alive! But you," he added, "could not your

fathers let you go out to hunt too?" "Gladly enough," answered they, "if

only the king gave the order." [12] "Well," said Cyrus, "who will speak

to Astyages for us?" "Why," answered they, "who so fit to persuade him

as yourself?" "No, by all that's holy, not I!" cried Cyrus. "I cannot

think what has come over me: I cannot speak to my grandfather any more;

I cannot look him straight in the face. If this fit grows on me, I am

afraid I shall become no better than an idiot. And yet, when I was a

little boy, they tell me, I was sharp enough at talking." To which the

other lads retorted, "Well, it is a bad business altogether: and if you

cannot bestir yourself for your friends, if you can do nothing for us

in our need, we must turn elsewhere." [13] When Cyrus heard that he was

stung to the quick: he went away in silence and urged himself to put on

a bold face, and so went in to his grandfather, not, however, without

planning first how he could best bring in the matter. Accordingly he

began thus: "Tell me, grandfather," said he, "if one of your slaves were

to run away, and you caught him, what would you do to him?" "What else

should I do," the old man answered, "but clap irons on him and set him

to work in chains?" "But if he came back of his own accord, how would

you treat him then?" "Why, I would give him a whipping, as a warning not

to do it again, and then treat him as though nothing had happened." "It

is high time then," said the boy, "that you began getting a birch ready

for your grandson: for I am planning to take my comrades and run away on

a hunting expedition." "Very kind of you to tell me, beforehand," said

Astyages. "And now listen, I forbid you to set foot outside the palace

grounds. A pretty thing," he added, "if for the sake of a day's hunting

I should let my daughter's lamb get lost." [14] So Cyrus did as he was

ordered and stayed at home, but he spent his days in silence and his

brow was clouded. At last Astyages saw how bitterly the lad felt it,

and he made up his mind to please him by leading out a hunting-party

himself. He held a great muster of horse and foot, and the other lads

were not forgotten: he had the beasts driven down into the flat country

where the horses could be taken easily, and then the hunt began in

splendid style. After the royal fashion--for he was present in person

himself--he gave orders that no one was to shoot until Cyrus had hunted

to his heart's content. But Cyrus would not hear of any such hindrance

to the others: "Grandfather," he cried, "if you wish me to enjoy myself,

let my friends hunt with me and each of us try our best." [15] Thereupon

Astyages let them all go, while he stood still and watched the sight,

and saw how they raced to attack the quarry and how their ambition

burned within them as they followed up the chase and let fly their

javelins. But above all he was overjoyed to see how his grandson could

not keep silence for sheer delight, calling upon his fellows by name

whenever he came up with the quarry, like a noble young hound, baying

from pure excitement. It gladdened the old man's heart to hear how

gleefully the boy would laugh at one of his comrades and how eagerly he

would applaud another without the slightest touch of jealousy. At

length it was time to turn, and home they went, laden with their mighty

trophies. And ever afterwards, so well pleased was the king with the

day's hunting, that whenever it was possible, out he must go with his

grandson, all his train behind him, and he never failed to take the boys

also, "to please Cyrus." Thus did Cyrus spend his early life, sharing in

and helping towards the happiness of all, and bringing no sorrow to any

man.

[16] But when he was about fifteen years of age, it chanced that the

young Prince of Assyria, who was about to marry a wife, planned a

hunting-party of his own, in honour of the bridal. And, having heard

that on the frontiers of Assyria and Media there was much game to be

got, untouched and unmolested because of the war, the prince chose these

marches for his hunting-ground. But for safety sake he took with him

a large escort of cavalry and targeteers, who were to drive the beasts

down from their lairs into the cultivated levels below where it was

easy to ride. He set out to the place where the Assyrian outposts were

planted and a garrison on duty, and there he and his men prepared to

take their supper, intending to begin the hunt with the morrow's dawn.

[17] And as evening had fallen, it happened that the night-watch, a

considerable body of horse and foot, arrived from the city to relieve

the garrison on guard. Thus the prince found that he had something like

a large army at his call: the two garrisons as well as the troop of

horse and foot for the hunt. And then he asked himself whether it would

not be the best of plans to drive off booty from the country of the

Medes? In this way more lustre would be given to the chase, and there

would be great store of beasts for sacrifice. With this intent he rose

betimes and led his army out: the foot soldiers he massed together on

the frontier, while he himself, at the head of his cavalry, rode up to

the border fortresses of the Medes. Here he halted with the strongest

and largest part of his company, to prevent the garrisons from sallying

out, and meanwhile he sent picked men forward by detachments with orders

to raid the country in every direction, waylay everything they chanced

upon, and drive the spoil back to him.

[18] While this was going on news was brought to Astyages that the enemy

was across the border, and he hastened to the rescue at once, himself at

the head of his own body-guard, and his son with such troopers as were

ready to hand, leaving word for others to follow with all despatch. But

when they were in sight of the Assyrians, and saw their serried ranks,

horse and foot, drawn up in order, compact and motionless, they came to

a halt themselves. [19] Now Cyrus, seeing that all the rest of the world

was off to the rescue, boot and saddle, must needs ride out too, and so

put on his armour for the first time, and could scarcely believe it was

true, he had longed so often and so ardently to wear it all. And right

beautiful it was, and right well it fitted the lad, the armour that his

grandsire had had made for him. So he put on the whole accoutrement,

mounted his charger, and galloped to the front. And Astyages, though he

wondered who had sent the boy, bade him stay beside him, now that he

had come. Cyrus, as he looked at the horsemen facing them, turned to

his grandfather with the question, "Can those men yonder be our enemies,

grandfather, those who are standing so quietly beside their horses?"

"Enemies they are too for all that," said the king. "And are those

enemies too?" the boy asked, "those who are riding over there?" "Yes,

to be sure." "Well, grandfather, a sorry set they look, and sorry jades

they ride to ravage our lands! It would be well for some of us to charge

them!" "Not yet, my boy," answered his grandfather, "look at the mass

of horsemen there. If we were to charge the others now, these friends of

theirs would charge us, for our full strength is not yet on the field."

"Yes, but," suggested the boy, "if you stay here yourself, ready to

receive our supporters, those fellows will be afraid to stir either, and

the cattle-lifters will drop their booty quick enough, as soon as they

find they are attacked."

[20] Astyages felt there was much in what the boy said, and thinking all

the while what wonderful sense he showed and how wide-awake he was, gave

orders for his son to take a squadron of horse and charge the raiders.

"If the main body move to attack," he added, "I will charge myself and

give them enough to do here." Accordingly Cyaxares took a detachment of

horse and galloped to the field. Cyrus seeing the charge, darted forward

himself, and swept to the van, leading it with Cyaxares close at his

heels and the rest close behind them. As soon as the plunderers saw

them, they left their booty and took to flight. [21] The troopers, with

Cyrus at their head, dashed in to cut them off, and some they overtook

at once and hewed down then and there; others slipped past, and then

they followed in hot pursuit, and caught some of them too. And Cyrus was

ever in the front, like a young hound, untrained as yet but bred from

a gallant stock, charging a wild-boar recklessly; forward he swept,

without eyes or thought for anything but the quarry to be captured and

the blow to be struck. But when the Assyrian army saw their friends

in trouble they pushed forward, rank on rank, saying to themselves the

pursuit would stop when their own movement was seen. [22] But Cyrus

never slackened his pace a whit: in a transport of joy he called on his

uncle by name as he pressed forward, hanging hot-foot on the fugitives,

while Cyaxares still clung to his heels, thinking maybe what his father

Astyages would say if he hung back, and the others still followed close

behind them, even the faint-hearted changed into heroes for the nonce.

Now Astyages, watching their furious onslaught, and seeing the enemy

move steadily forward in close array to meet them, decided to advance

without a moment's delay himself, for fear that his son and Cyrus might

come to harm, crashing in disorder against the solid battalions of the

foe. [23] The Assyrians saw the movement of the king and came to a halt,

spears levelled and bows bent, expecting that, when their assailants

came within range, they would halt likewise as they had usually done

before. For hitherto, whenever the armies met, they would only charge up

to a certain distance, and there take flying shots, and so keep up the

skirmish until evening fell. But now the Assyrians saw their own men

borne down on them in rout, with Cyrus and his comrades at their heels

in full career, while Astyages and his cavalry were already within

bowshot. It was more than they could face, and they turned and fled.

After them swept the Medes in full pursuit, and those they caught they

mowed down, horse and man, and those that fell they slew. There was no

pause until they came up with the Assyrian foot. [24] Here at last they

drew rein in fear of some hidden ambuscade, and Astyages led his army

off. The exploit of his cavalry pleased him beyond measure, but he did

not know what he could say to Cyrus. It was he to whom the engagement

was due, and the victory; but the boy's daring was on the verge of

madness. Even during the return home his behaviour was strange; he could

not forbear riding round alone to look into the faces of the slain,

and those whose duty it was could hardly drag him away to lead him to

Astyages: indeed, the youth was glad enough to keep them as a screen

between himself and the king, for he saw that the countenance of his

grandfather grew stern at the sight of him.

[25] So matters passed in Media: and more and more the name of Cyrus was

on the lip of every man, in song and story everywhere, and Astyages,

who had always loved him, was astonished beyond all measure at the lad.

Meanwhile his father, Cambyses, rejoiced to hear such tidings of his

son; but, when he heard that he was already acting like a man of years,

he thought it full time to call him home again that he might complete

his training in the discipline of his fatherland. The story tells how

Cyrus answered the summons, saying he would rather return home at once

so that his father might not be vexed or his country blame him. And

Astyages, too, thought it his plain duty to send the boy back, but he

must needs give him horses to take with him, as many as he would care

to choose, and other gifts beside, not only for the love he bore him

but for the high hopes he had that the boy would one day prove a man of

mark, a blessing to his friends, and a terror to his foes. And when the

time came for Cyrus to go, the whole world poured out to speed him on

his journey--little children and lads of his own age, and grown men

and greybeards on their steeds, and Astyages the king. And, so says the

chronicle, the eyes of none were dry when they turned home again. [26]

Cyrus himself, they tell us, rode away in tears. He heaped gifts on all

his comrades, sharing with them what Astyages had given to himself; and

at last he took off the splendid Median cloak he wore and gave it to one

of them, to tell him, plainer than words could say, how his heart clung

to him above the rest. And his friends, they say, took the gifts he gave

them, but they brought them all back to Astyages, who sent them to Cyrus

again. But once more Cyrus sent them back to Media with this prayer to

his grandfather:--"If you would have me hold my head up when I come back

to you again, let my friends keep the gifts I gave them." And Astyages

did as the boy asked.

[27] And here, if a tale of boyish love is not out of place, we might

tell how, when Cyrus was just about to depart and the last good-byes

were being said, each of his kinsmen in the Persian fashion--and to this

day the custom holds in Persia--kissed him on the lips as they bade him

god-speed. Now there was a certain Mede, as beautiful and brave a man

as ever lived, who had been enamoured of Cyrus for many a long day,

and, when he saw the kiss, he stayed behind, and after the others had

withdrawn he went up to Cyrus and said, "Me, and me alone, of all your

kindred, Cyrus, you refuse to recognize?" And Cyrus answered, "What, are

you my kinsman too?" "Yes, assuredly," the other answered, and the lad

rejoined, "Ah, then, that is why you looked at me so earnestly; and I

have seen you look at me like that, I think, more than once before."

"Yes," answered the Mede, "I have often longed to approach you, but as

often, heaven knows, my heart failed me." "But why should that be," said

Cyrus, "seeing you are my kinsman?" And with the word, he leant forward

and kissed him on the lips. [28] Then the Mede, emboldened by the kiss,

took heart and said, "So in Persia it is really the custom for relatives

to kiss?" "Truly yes," answered Cyrus, "when we see each other after a

long absence, or when we part for a journey." "Then the time has come,"

said the other, "to give me a second kiss, for I must leave you now."

With that Cyrus kissed him again and so they parted. But the travellers

were not far on their way when suddenly the Mede came galloping after

them, his charger covered with foam. Cyrus caught sight of him:--"You

have forgotten something? There is something else you wanted to say?"

"No," said the Mede, "it is only such a long, long while since we met."

"Such a little, little while you mean, my kinsman," answered Cyrus. "A

little while!" repeated the other. "How can you say that? Cannot you

understand that the time it takes to wink is a whole eternity if it

severs me from the beauty of your face?"

Then Cyrus burst out laughing in spite of his own tears, and bade the

unfortunate man take heart of grace and be gone. "I shall soon be back

with you again, and then you can stare at me to your heart's content,

and never wink at all."

[C.5] Thus Cyrus left his grandfather's court and came home to Persia,

and there, so it is said, he spent one year more as a boy among boys.

At first the lads were disposed to laugh at him, thinking he must have

learnt luxurious ways in Media, but when they saw that he could take

the simple Persian food as happily as themselves, and how, whenever they

made good cheer at a festival, far from asking for any more himself he

was ready to give his own share of the dainties away, when they saw and

felt in this and in other things his inborn nobleness and superiority to

themselves, then the tide turned and once more they were at his feet.

And when this part of his training was over, and the time was come for

him to join the younger men, it was the same tale once more. Once more

he outdid all his fellows, alike in the fulfilment of his duty, in

the endurance of hardship, in the reverence he showed to age, and the

obedience he paid to authority.

[2] Now in the fullness of time Astyages died in Media, and Cyaxares

his son, the brother of Cyrus' mother, took the kingdom in his stead.

By this time the king of Assyria had subdued all the tribes of Syria,

subjugated the king of Arabia, brought the Hyrcanians under his rule,

and was holding the Bactrians in siege. Therefore he came to think that,

if he could but weaken the power of the Medes, it would be easy for him

to extend his empire over all the nations round him, since the Medes

were, without doubt, the strongest of them all. [3] Accordingly he

sent his messengers to every part of his dominions: to Croesus, king

of Lydia, to the king of Cappadocia, to both the Phrygias, to the

Paphlagonians and the Indians, to the Carians and the Cilicians. And he

bade them spread slanders abroad against the Persians and the Medes, and

say moreover that these were great and mighty kingdoms which had come

together and made alliance by marriage with one another, and unless a

man should be beforehand with them and bring down their power it could

not be but that they would fall on each of their neighbours in turn and

subdue them one by one. So the nations listened to the messengers and

made alliance with the king of Assyria: some were persuaded by what he

said and others were won over by gifts and gold, for the riches of the

Assyrian were great. [4] Now Cyaxares, the son of Astyages, was aware of

these plots and preparations, and he made ready on his side, so far as

in him lay, sending word to the Persian state and to Cambyses the king,

who had his sister to wife. And he sent to Cyrus also, begging him to

come with all speed at the head of any force that might be furnished, if

so be the Council of Persia would give him men-at-arms. For by this

time Cyrus had accomplished his ten years among the youths and was now

enrolled with the grown men. [5] He was right willing to go, and the

Council of Elders appointed him to command the force for Media. They

bade him choose two hundred men among the Peers, each of them to choose

four others from their fellows. Thus was formed a body of a thousand

Peers: and each of the thousand had orders to raise thirty men from the

commons--ten targeteers, ten slingers, and ten archers--and thus three

regiments were levied, 10,000 archers, 10,000 slingers, and 10,000

targeteers, over and above the thousand Peers. The whole force was to

be put under the command of Cyrus. [6] As soon as he was appointed,

his first act had been to offer sacrifice, and when the omens were

favourable he had chosen his two hundred Peers, and each of them had

chosen their four comrades. Then he called the whole body together, and

for the first time spoke to them as follows:--

[7] "My friends, I have chosen you for this work, but this is not the

first time that I have formed my opinion of your worth: from my boyhood

I have watched your zeal for all that our country holds to be honourable

and your abhorrence for all that she counts base. And I wish to tell you

plainly why I accepted this office myself and why I ask your help. [8] I

have long felt sure that our forefathers were in their time as good men

as we. For their lives were one long effort towards the self-same deeds

of valour as are held in honour now; and still, for all their worth,

I fail to see what good they gained either for the state or for

themselves. [9] Yet I cannot bring myself to believe that there is a

single virtue practised among mankind merely in order that the brave and

good should fare no better than the base ones of the earth. Men do

not forego the pleasures of the moment to say good-bye to all joy for

evermore--no, this self-control is a training, so that we may reap the

fruits of a larger joy in the time to come. A man will toil day and

night to make himself an orator, yet oratory is not the one aim of

his existence: his hope is to influence men by his eloquence and thus

achieve some noble end. So too with us, and those like us, who are

drilled in the arts of war: we do not give our labours in order to fight

for ever, endlessly and hopelessly, we hope that we too one day, when we

have proved our mettle, may win and wear for ourselves and for our city

the threefold ornament of wealth, of happiness, of honour. [10] And if

there should be some who have worked hard all their lives and suddenly

old-age, they find, has stolen on them unawares, and taken away their

powers before they have gathered in the fruit of all their toil, such

men seem to me like those who desire to be thrifty husbandmen, and who

sow well and plant wisely, but when the time of harvest comes let the

fruit drop back ungarnered into the soil whence it sprang. Or as if an

athlete should train himself and reach the heights where victory may be

won and at the last forbear to enter the lists--such an one, I take it,

would but meet his deserts if all men cried out upon him for a fool.

[11] Let not such be our fate, my friends. Our own hearts bear us

witness that we, too, from our boyhood up, have been trained in the

school of beauty and nobleness and honour, and now let us go forward to

meet our foes. They, I know right well, when matched with us, will prove

but novices in war. He is no true warrior, though he be skilled with the

javelin and the bow and ride on horseback with the best, who, when the

call for endurance comes, is found to fail: toil finds him but a novice.

Nor are they warriors who, when they should wake and watch, give way to

slumber: sleep finds them novices. Even endurance will not avail, if a

man has not learnt to deal as a man should by friends and foes: such an

one is unschooled in the highest part of his calling. [12] But with you

it is not so: to you the night will be as the day; toil, your school

has taught you, is the guide to happiness; hunger has been your daily

condiment, and water you take to quench your thirst as the lion laps the

stream. And you have that within your hearts which is the rarest of all

treasures and the most akin to war: of all sweet sounds the sweetest

sound for you is the voice of fame. You are fair Honour's suitors, and

you must needs win your title to her favour. Therefore you undergo toil

and danger gladly.

[13] "Now if I said all this of you, and my heart were not in my words,

I should but cheat myself. For in so far as you should fail to fulfil my

hopes of you, it is on me that the shame would fall. But I have faith in

you, bred of experience: I trust in your goodwill towards me, and in our

enemy's lack of wit; you will not belie my hopes. Let us go forth with a

light heart; we have no ill-fame to fear: none can say we covet

another man's goods unlawfully. Our enemy strikes the first blow in an

unrighteous cause, and our friends call us to protect them. What is more

lawful than self-defence? What is nobler than to succour those we love?

[14] And you have another ground of confidence--in opening this campaign

I have not been forgetful of the gods: you have gone in and out with me,

and you know how in all things, great and small, I strive to win their

blessing. And now," he added, "what need of further words? I will leave

you now to choose your own men, and when all is ready you will march

into Media at their head. Meanwhile I will return to my father and start

before you, so that I may learn what I can about the enemy as soon as

may be, and thus make all needful preparations, so that by God's help we

may win glory on the field."

[C.6] Such were his orders and they set about them at once. But Cyrus

himself went home and prayed to the gods of his father's house, to

Hestia and Zeus, and to all who had watched over his race. And when he

had done so, he set out for the war, and his father went with him on

the road. They were no sooner clear of the city, so says the story, than

they met with favourable omens of thunder and lightning, and after that

they went forward without further divination, for they felt that no man

could mistake the signs from the Ruler of the gods. [2] And as they went

on their way Cyrus' father said to him, "My son, the gods are gracious

to us, and look with favour on your journey--they have shown it in the

sacrifices, and by their signs from heaven. You do not need another man

to tell you so, for I was careful to have you taught this art, so that

you might understand the counsels of the gods yourself and have no need

of an interpreter, seeing with your own eyes and hearing with your own

ears and taking the heavenly meaning for yourself. Thus you need not be

at the mercy of any soothsayers who might have a mind to deceive you,

speaking contrary to the omens vouchsafed from heaven, nor yet, should

you chance to be without a seer, drift in perplexity and know not how to

profit by the heavenly signs: you yourself through your own learning can

understand the warnings of the gods and follow them."

[3] "Yes, father," answered Cyrus, "so far as in me lies, I bear your

words in mind, and pray to the gods continually that they may show us

favour and vouchsafe to counsel us. I remember," he went on, "how once I

heard you say that, as with men, so with the gods, it was but natural if

the prayer of him should prevail who did not turn to flatter them only

in time of need, but was mindful of them above all in the heyday of his

happiness. It was thus indeed, you said, that we ought to deal with our

earthly friends." [4] "True, my son," said his father, "and because of

all my teaching, you can now approach the gods in prayer with a lighter

heart and a more confident hope that they will grant you what you ask,

because your conscience bears you witness that you have never forgotten

them." "Even so," said Cyrus, "and in truth I feel towards them as

though they were my friends." [5] "And do you remember," asked his

father, "certain other conclusions on which we were agreed? How we

felt there were certain things that the gods had permitted us to attain

through learning and study and training? The accomplishment of these is

the reward of effort, not of idleness; in these it is only when we have

done all that it is our duty to do that we are justified in asking for

blessings from the gods." [6] "I remember very well," said Cyrus, "that

you used to talk to me in that way: and indeed I could not but agree

with the arguments you gave. You used to say that a man had no right to

pray he might win a cavalry charge if he had never learnt how to ride,

or triumph over master-bowmen if he could not draw a bow, or bring

a ship safe home to harbour if he did not know how to steer, or be

rewarded with a plenteous harvest if he had not so much as sown grain

into the ground, or come home safe from battle if he took no precautions

whatsoever. All such prayers as these, you said, were contrary to the

very ordinances of heaven, and those who asked for things forbidden

could not be surprised if they failed to win them from the gods. Even as

a petition in the face of law on earth would have no success with men."

[7] "And do you remember," said his father, "how we thought that it

would be a noble work enough if a man could train himself really and

truly to be beautiful and brave and earn all he needed for his household

and himself? That, we said, was a work of which a man might well be

proud; but if he went further still, if he had the skill and the science

to be the guide and governor of other men, supplying all their wants and

making them all they ought to be, that, it seemed to us, would be indeed

a marvel." [8] "Yes, my father," answered Cyrus, "I remember it very

well. I agreed with you that to rule well and nobly was the greatest

of all works, and I am of the same mind still," he went on, "whenever

I think of government in itself. But when I look on the world at large,

when I see of what poor stuff those men are made who contrive to uphold

their rule and what sort of antagonists we are likely to find in them,

then I can only feel how disgraceful it would be to cringe before them

and not to face them myself and try conclusions with them on the field.

All of them, I perceive," he added, "beginning with our own friends

here, hold to it that the ruler should only differ from his subjects by

the splendour of his banquets, the wealth of gold in his coffers, the

length and depth of his slumbers, and his freedom from trouble and pain.

But my views are different: I hold that the ruler should be marked out

from other men, not by taking life easily, but by his forethought and

his wisdom and his eagerness for work." [9] "True, my son," the father

answered, "but you know the struggle must in part be waged not against

flesh and blood but against circumstances, and these may not be overcome

so easily. You know, I take it, that if supplies were not forthcoming,

farewell to this government of yours." "Yes," Cyrus answered, "and that

is why Cyaxares is undertaking to provide for all of us who join him,

whatever our numbers are." "So," said the father, "and you really mean,

my son, that you are relying only on these supplies of Cyaxares for this

campaign of yours?" "Yes," answered Cyrus. "And do you know what they

amount to?" "No," he said, "I cannot say that I do." "And yet," his

father went on, "you are prepared to rely on what you do not know? Do

you forget that the needs of the morrow must be high, not to speak

of the outlay for the day?" "Oh, no," said Cyrus, "I am well aware of

that." "Well," said the father, "suppose the cost is more than Cyaxares

can bear, or suppose he actually meant to deceive you, how would your

soldiers fare?" "Ill enough, no doubt," answered he. "And now tell

me, father, while we are still in friendly country, if you know of any

resources that I could make my own?" [10] "You want to know where you

could find resources of your own?" repeated his father. "And who is to

find that out, if not he who holds the keys of power? We have given you

a force of infantry that you would not exchange, I feel sure, for one

that was more than twice its size; and you will have the cavalry of

Media to support you, the finest in the world. I conceive there are none

of the nations round about who will not be ready to serve you, whether

to win your favour or because they fear disaster. These are matters

you must look into carefully, in concert with Cyaxares, so that nothing

should ever fail you of what you need, and, if only for habit's sake,

you should devise some means for supplying your revenue. Bear this maxim

in mind before all others--never put off the collecting of supplies

until the day of need, make the season of your abundance provide against

the time of dearth. You will gain better terms from those on whom you

must depend if you are not thought to be in straits, and, what is more,

you will be free from blame in the eyes of your soldiers. That in itself

will make you more respected; wherever you desire to help or to hurt,

your troops will follow you with greater readiness, so long as they have

all they need, and your words, you may be sure, will carry the greater

weight the fuller your display of power for weal or woe."

[11] "Yes, father," Cyrus said, "I feel all you say is true, and the

more because as things now stand none of my soldiers will thank me for

the pay that is promised them. They are well aware of the terms Cyaxares

has offered for their help: but whatever they get over and above the

covenanted amount they will look upon as a free gift, and for that they

will, in all likelihood, feel most gratitude to the giver." "True," said

the father, "and really for a man to have a force with which he could

serve his friends and take vengeance on his foes, and yet neglect the

supplies for it, would be as disgraceful, would it not? as for a farmer

to hold lands and labourers and yet allow fields to lie barren for lack

of tillage."

"No such neglect," answered the son, "shall ever be laid at my door.

Through friendly lands or hostile, trust me, in this business of

supplying my troops with all they need I will always play my part."

[12] "Well, my son," the father resumed, "and do you remember certain

other points which we agreed must never be overlooked?" "Could I forget

them?" answered Cyrus. "I remember how I came to you for money to pay

the teacher who professed to have taught me generalship, and you gave it

me, but you asked me many questions. 'Now, my boy,' you said, 'did this

teacher you want to pay ever mention economy among the things a general

ought to understand? Soldiers, no less than servants in a house, are

dependent on supplies.' And I was forced to tell the truth and admit

that not a syllable had been mentioned on that score. Then you asked

me if anything had been taught about health and strength, since a true

general is bound to think of these matters no less than of tactics and

strategy. And when I was forced to say no, you asked me if he had taught

me any of the arts which give the best aid in war. Once again I had to

say no and then you asked whether he had ever taught me how to kindle

enthusiasm in my men. For in every undertaking, you said, there was all

the difference in the world between energy and lack of spirit. I shook

my head and your examination went on:--Had this teacher laid no stress

on the need for obedience in an army, or on the best means of securing

discipline? [14] And finally, when it was plain that even this had been

utterly ignored, you exclaimed, 'What in the world, then, does your

professor claim to have taught you under the name of generalship?' To

that I could at last give a positive answer: 'He taught me tactics.'

And then you gave a little laugh and ran through your list point by

point:--'And pray what will be the use of tactics to an army without

supplies, without health, without discipline, without knowledge of those

arts and inventions that are of use in war?' And so you made it clear

to me that tactics and manoeuvres and drill were only a small part of all

that is implied in generalship, and when I asked you if you could teach

me the rest of it you bade me betake myself to those who stood high in

repute as great generals, and talk with them and learn from their lips

how each thing should be done. [15] So I consorted with all I thought to

be of authority in these matters. As regards our present supplies I was

persuaded that what Cyaxares intended to provide was sufficient, and, as

for the health of the troops, I was aware that the cities where health

was valued appointed medical officers, and the generals who cared for

their soldiers took out a medical staff; and so when I found myself in

this office I gave my mind to the matter at once: and I flatter myself,

father," he added, "that I shall have with me an excellent staff of

surgeons and physicians." [16] To which the father made reply, "Well,

my son, but these excellent men are, after all, much the same as the

tailors who patch torn garments. When folk are ill, your doctors can

patch them up, but your own care for their health ought to go far deeper

than that: your prime object should be to save your men from falling ill

at all." "And pray, father," asked Cyrus, "how can I succeed in that?"

"Well," answered Cambyses, "I presume if you are to stay long in one

place you will do your best to discover a healthy spot for your camp,

and if you give your mind to the matter you can hardly fail to find it.

Men, we know, are forever discussing what places are healthy and what

are not, and their own complexions and the state of their own bodies is

the clearest evidence. But you will not content yourself with choosing a

site, you will remember the care you take yourself for your own health."

[17] "Well," said Cyrus, "my first rule is to avoid over-feeding as most

oppressive to the system, and my next to work off all that enters the

body: that seems the best way to keep health and gain strength." "My

son," Cambyses answered, "these are the principles you must apply to

others." "What!" said Cyrus; "do you think it will be possible for the

soldiers to diet and train themselves?" "Not only possible," said the

father, "but essential. For surely an army, if it is to fulfil its

function at all, must always be engaged in hurting the foe or helping

itself. A single man is hard enough to support in idleness, a household

is harder still, an army hardest of all. There are more mouths to be

filled, less wealth to start with, and greater waste; and therefore

an army should never be unemployed." [18] "If I take your meaning,"

answered Cyrus, "you think an idle general as useless as an idle farmer.

And here and now I answer for the working general, and promise on his

behalf that with God's help he will show you that his troops have all

they need and their bodies are all they ought to be. And I think," he

added, "I know a way by which an officer might do much towards training

his men in the various branches of war. Let him propose competitions

of every kind and offer prizes; the standard of skill will rise, and

he will soon have a body of troops ready to his hand for any service he

requires." "Nothing could be better," answered the father. "Do this, and

you may be sure you will watch your regiments at their manoeuvres with as

much delight as if they were a chorus in the dance."

[19] "And then," continued Cyrus, "to rouse enthusiasm in the men, there

can be nothing, I take it, like the power of kindling hope?" "True,"

answered his father, "but that alone would be as though a huntsman were

for ever rousing his pack with the view-halloo. At first, of course, the

hounds will answer eagerly enough, but after they have been cheated

once or twice they will end by refusing the call even when the quarry

is really in sight. And so it is with hope. Let a man rouse false

expectations often enough, and in the end, even when hope is at the

door, he may cry the good news in vain. Rather ought he to refrain from

speaking positively himself when he cannot know precisely; his agents

may step in and do it in his place; but he should reserve his own appeal

for the supreme crises of supreme danger, and not dissipate his credit."

"By heaven, a most admirable suggestion!" cried Cyrus, "and one much

more to my mind! [20] As for enforcing obedience, I hope I have had some

training in that already; you began my education yourself when I was a

child by teaching me to obey you, and then you handed me over to masters

who did as you had done, and afterwards, when we were lads, my fellows

and myself, there was nothing on which the governors laid more stress.

Our laws themselves, I think, enforce this double lesson:--'Rule thou

and be thou ruled.' And when I come to study the secret of it all, I

seem to see that the real incentive to obedience lies in the praise and

honour that it wins against the discredit and the chastisement which

fall on the disobedient." [21] "That, my son," said the father, "is the

road to the obedience of compulsion. But there is a shorter way to a

nobler goal, the obedience of the will. When the interests of mankind

are at stake, they will obey with joy the man whom they believe to be

wiser than themselves. You may prove this on all sides: you may see how

the sick man will beg the doctor to tell him what he ought to do, how a

whole ship's company will listen to the pilot, how travellers will

cling to the one who knows the way better, as they believe, than they do

themselves. But if men think that obedience will lead them to disaster,

then nothing, neither penalties, nor persuasion, nor gifts, will avail

to rouse them. For no man accepts a bribe to his own destruction." [22]

"You would have me understand," said Cyrus, "that the best way to

secure obedience is to be thought wiser than those we rule?" "Yes," said

Cambyses, "that is my belief."

"And what is the quickest way," asked Cyrus, "to win that reputation?"

"None quicker, my lad, than this: wherever you wish to seem wise, be

wise. Examine as many cases as you like, and you will find that what I

say is true. If you wished to be thought a good farmer, a good horseman,

a good physician, a good flute-player, or anything else whatever,

without really being so, just imagine what a world of devices you would

need to invent, merely to keep up the outward show! And suppose you did

get a following to praise you and cry you up, suppose you did burden

yourself with all kinds of paraphernalia for your profession, what

would come of it all? You succeed at first in a very pretty piece of

deception, and then by and by the test comes, and the impostor stands

revealed."

[23] "But," said Cyrus, "how can a man really and truly attain to the

wisdom that will serve his turn?"

"Well, my son, it is plain that where learning is the road to wisdom,

learn you must, as you learnt your battalion-drill, but when it comes to

matters which are not to be learnt by mortal men, nor foreseen by mortal

minds, there you can only become wiser than others by communicating with

the gods through the art of divination. But, always, wherever you know

that a thing ought to be done, see that it is done, and done with care;

for care, not carelessness, is the mark of the wise man."

[24] "And now," said Cyrus, "to win the affection of those we rule--and

there is nothing, I take it, of greater importance--surely the path to

follow lies open to all who desire the love of their friends. We must, I

mean, show that we do them good." "Yes, my child, but to do good really

at all seasons to those we wish to help is not always possible: only one

way is ever open, and that is the way of sympathy; to rejoice with the

happy in the day of good things, to share their sorrow when ill befalls

them, to lend a hand in all their difficulties, to fear disaster for

them, and guard against it by foresight--these, rather than actual

benefits, are the true signs of comradeship. [25] And so in war; if the

campaign is in summer the general must show himself greedy for his share

of the sun and the heat, and in winter for the cold and the frost, and

in all labours for toil and fatigue. This will help to make him beloved

of his followers." "You mean, father," said Cyrus, "that a commander

should always be stouter-hearted in everything than those whom he

commands." "Yes, my son, that is my meaning," said he; "only be well

assured of this: the princely leader and the private soldier may be

alike in body, but their sufferings are not the same: the pains of the

leader are always lightened by the glory that is his and by the very

consciousness that all his acts are done in the public eye."

[26] "But now, father, suppose the time has come, and you are satisfied

that your troops are well supplied, sound in wind and limb, well able to

endure fatigue, skilled in the arts of war, covetous of honour, eager to

show their mettle, anxious to follow, would you not think it well to try

the chance of battle without delay?" "By all means," said the father,

"if you are likely to gain by the move: but if not, for my own part, the

more I felt persuaded of my own superiority and the power of my troops,

the more I should be inclined to stand on my guard, just as we put our

greatest treasures in the safest place we have." [27] "But how can a man

make sure that he will gain?" "Ah, there you come," said the father,

"to a most weighty matter. This is no easy task, I can tell you. If your

general is to succeed he must prove himself an arch-plotter, a king of

craft, full of deceits and stratagems, a cheat, a thief, and a robber,

defrauding and overreaching his opponent at every turn."

"Heavens!" said Cyrus, and burst out laughing, "is this the kind of man

you want your son to be!" "I want him to be," said the father, "as just

and upright and law-abiding as any man who ever lived." [28] "But how

comes it," said his son, "that the lessons you taught us in boyhood and

youth were exactly opposed to what you teach me now?" "Ah," said the

father, "those lessons were for friends and fellow-citizens, and for

them they still hold good, but for your enemies--do you not remember

that you were also taught to do much harm?"

"No, father," he answered, "I should say certainly not."

"Then why were you taught to shoot? Or to hurl the javelin? Or to trap

wild-boars? Or to snare stags with cords and caltrops? And why did you

never meet the lion or the bear or the leopard in fair fight on equal

terms, but were always trying to steal some advantage over them? Can you

deny that all that was craft and deceit and fraud and greed?"

[29] "Why, of course," answered the young man, "in dealing with animals,

but with human beings it was different; if I was ever suspected of a

wish to cheat another, I was punished, I know, with many stripes."

"True," said the father, "and for the matter of that we did not permit

you to draw bow or hurl javelin against human beings; we taught you

merely to aim at a mark. But why did we teach you that? Not so that you

might injure your friends, either then or now, but that in war you might

have the skill to make the bodies of living men your targets. So also we

taught you the arts of deceit and craft and greed and covetousness, not

among men it is true, but among beasts; we did not mean you ever to turn

these accomplishments against your friends, but in war we wished you to

be something better than raw recruits."

[30] "But, father," Cyrus answered, "if to do men good and to do men

harm were both of them things we ought to learn, surely it would have

been better to teach them in actual practice?"

[31] Then the father said, "My son, we are told that in the days of our

forefathers there was such a teacher once. This man did actually teach

his boys righteousness in the way you suggest, to lie and not to lie,

to cheat and not to cheat, to calumniate and not to calumniate, to be

grasping and not grasping. He drew the distinction between our duty to

friends and our duty to enemies; and he went further still; he taught

men that it was just and right to deceive even a friend for his own

good, or steal his property. [32] And with this he must needs teach

his pupils to practise on one another what he taught them, just as the

people of Hellas, we are told, teach lads in the wrestling-school to

fence and to feint, and train them by their practice with one another.

Now some of his scholars showed such excellent aptitudes for deception

and overreaching, and perhaps no lack of taste for common money-making,

that they did not even spare their friends, but used their arts on them.

[33] And so an unwritten law was framed by which we still abide, bidding

us teach our children as we teach our servants, simply and solely not to

lie, and not to cheat, and not to covert, and if they did otherwise to

punish them, hoping to make them humane and law-abiding citizens. [34]

But when they came to manhood, as you have come, then, it seemed, the

risk was over, and it would be time to teach them what is lawful against

our enemies. For at your age we do not believe you will break out into

savagery against your fellows with whom you have been knit together

since childhood in ties of friendship and respect. In the same way we do

not talk to the young about the mysteries of love, for if lightness were

added to desire, their passion might sweep them beyond all bounds."

[35] "Then in heaven's name, father," said Cyrus, "remember that

your son is but a backward scholar and a late learner in this lore of

selfishness, and teach me all you can that may help me to overreach the

foe."

"Well," said the father, "you must plot and you must plan, whatever the

size of his force and your own, to catch his men in disorder when yours

are all arrayed, unarmed when yours are armed, asleep when yours are

awake, or you must wait till he is visible to you and you invisible

to him, or till he is labouring over heavy ground and you are in your

fortress and can give him welcome there."

[36] "But how," asked Cyrus, "can I catch him in all these blunders?"

"Simply because both you and he are bound to be often in some such case;

both of you must take your meals sometime; both of you must sleep; your

men must scatter in the morning to satisfy the needs of nature, and,

for better for worse, whatever the roads are like, you will be forced

to make use of them. All these necessities you must lay to heart, and

wherever you are weaker, there you must be most on your guard, and

wherever your foe is most assailable, there you must press the attack."

[37] Then Cyrus asked, "And are these the only cases where one can apply

the great principle of greed, or are there others?"

"Oh, yes, there are many more; indeed in these simple cases any general

will be sure to keep good watch, knowing how necessary it is. But your

true cheat and prince of swindlers is he who can lure the enemy on

and throw him off his guard, suffer himself to be pursued and get the

pursuers into disorder, lead the foe into difficult ground and then

attack him there. [38] Indeed, as an ardent student, you must not

confine yourself to the lessons you have learnt; you must show yourself

a creator and discoverer, you must invent stratagems against the foe;

just as a real musician is not content with the mere elements of his

art, but sets himself to compose new themes. And if in music it is the

novel melody, the flower-like freshness, that wins popularity, still

more in military matters it is the newest contrivance that stands the

highest, for the simple reason that such will give you the best chance

of outwitting your opponent. [39] And yet, my son, I must say that if

you did no more than apply against human beings the devices you learnt

to use against the smallest game, you would have made considerable

progress in this art of overreaching. Do you not think so yourself?

Why, to snare birds you would get up by night in the depth of winter

and tramp off in the cold; your nets were laid before the creatures were

astir, and your tracks completely covered and you actually had birds of

your own, trained to serve you and decoy their kith and kin, while you

yourself lay in some hiding-place, seeing yet unseen, and you had learnt

by long practice to jerk in the net before the birds could fly away.

[40] Or you might be out after hares, and for a hare you had two breeds

of dogs, one to track her out by scent, because she feeds in the dusk

and takes to her form by day, and another to cut off her escape and run

her down, because she is so swift. And even if she escaped these, she

did not escape you; you had all her runs by heart and knew all her

hiding-places, and there you would spread your nets, so that they were

scarcely to be seen, and the very haste of her flight would fling her

into the snare. And to make sure of her you had men placed on the spot

to keep a look-out, and pounce on her at once. And there were you at her

heels, shouting and scaring her out of her wits, so that she was caught

from sheer terror, and there lay your men, as you had taught them,

silent and motionless in their ambuscade. [41] I say, therefore, that if

you chose to act like this against human beings, you would soon have no

enemies left to fight, or I am much mistaken. And even if, as well may

be, the necessity should arise for you to do battle on equal terms in

open field, even so, my son, there will still be power in those arts

which you have studied so long and which teach you to out-villain

villainy. And among them I include all that has served to train the

bodies and fire the courage of your men, all that has made them adepts

in every craft of war. One thing you must ever bear in mind: if you wish

your men to follow you, remember that they expect you to plan for them.

[42] Hence you must never know a careless mood; if it be night, you must

consider what your troops shall do when it is day; if day, how the night

had best be spent. [43] For the rest, you do not need me to tell you

now how you should draw up your troops or conduct your march by day or

night, along broad roads or narrow lanes, over hills or level ground, or

how you should encamp and post your pickets, or advance into battle

or retreat before the foe, or march past a hostile city, or attack a

fortress or retire from it, or cross a river or pass through a defile,

or guard against a charge of cavalry or an attack from lancers or

archers, or what you should do if the enemy comes into sight when you

are marching in column and how you are to take up position against him,

or how deploy into action if you are in line and he takes you in flank

or rear, and how you are to learn all you can about his movements, while

keeping your own as secret as may be; these are matters on which you

need no further word of mine; all that I know about them you have

heard a hundred times, and I am sure you have not neglected any other

authority on whom you thought you could rely. You know all their

theories, and you must apply them now, I take it, according to

circumstances and your need. [44] But," he added, "there is one lesson

that I would fain impress on you, and it is the greatest of them all.

Observe the sacrifices and pay heed to the omens; when they are against

you, never risk your army or yourself, for you must remember that men

undertake enterprises on the strength of probability alone and without

any real knowledge as to what will bring them happiness. [45] You may

learn this from all life and all history. How often have cities allowed

themselves to be persuaded into war, and that by advisers who were

thought the wisest of men, and then been utterly destroyed by those

whom they attacked! How often have statesmen helped to raise a city or a

leader to power, and then suffered the worst at the hands of those whom

they exalted! And many who could have treated others as friends and

equals, giving and receiving kindnesses, have chosen to use them as

slaves, and then paid the penalty at their hands; and many, not content

to enjoy their own share of good, have been swept on by the craving to

master all, and thereby lost everything that they once possessed; and

many have won the very wealth they prayed for and through it have found

destruction. [46] So little does human wisdom know how to choose the

best, helpless as a man who could but draw lots to see what he should

do. But the gods, my son, who live for ever, they know all things, the

things that have been and the things that are and the things that are to

be, and all that shall come from these; and to us mortals who ask their

counsel and whom they love they will show signs, to tell us what we

should do and what we should leave undone. Nor must we think it strange

if the gods will not vouchsafe their wisdom to all men equally; no

compulsion is laid on them to care for men, unless it be their will."

NOTES

[This work concludes the translation of Xenophon undertaken by Mr.

Dakyns. ("The Works of Xenophon," with maps, introductions, and notes,

Vols. I.-III., Macmillan.) From references in the earlier vols. (e.g.

Vol. I. pp. lvii., lxx., xc., cxiii., cxxxi.; Vol. III. Part I. pp.

v.-vii.) it is plain the translator considered that the historical

romance of the _Cyropaedia_ was written in Xenophon's old age (completed

_circa_ 365 B.C.) embodying many of his own experiences and his maturest

thoughts on education, on government, on the type of man,--a rare type,

alone fitted for leadership. The figure of his hero, Cyrus the Great,

the founder of the Persian empire, known to him by story and legend, is

modelled on the Spartan king Agesilaus, whom he loved and admired, and

under whom he served in Persia and in Greece (op. cit. Vol. II., see

under _Agesilaus_, Index, and _Hellenica_, Bks. III.-V. _Agesilaus_,

_an Encomium_, passim). Certain traits are also taken from the younger

Cyrus, whom Xenophon followed in his famous march against his brother,

the Persian king, up from the coast of Asia Minor into the heart of

Babylonia (see the _Anabasis_, Bk. I., especially c. ix.; op. cit. Vol.

I. p. 109). Clearly, moreover, many of the customs and institutions

described in the work as Persian are really Dorian, and were still in

vogue among Xenophon's Spartan friends (vide e.g. _Hellenica_, Bk. IV.,

i. S28; op. cit. Vol. II. p. 44).]

C2.4. Qy. Were these tribal customs of the Persians, as doubtless of the

Dorians, or is it all a Dorian idealisation?

C2.13. Good specimen of the "annotative" style with a parenthetic

comment. The passage in brackets might be a gloss, but is it?

C3.3. When did Xenophon himself first learn to ride? Surely this is a

boyish reminiscence, full of sympathy with boy-nature.

C3.12. Beautiful description of a child subject to his parents, growing

in stature and favour with God and man.

C4.2. Perhaps his own grandson, Xenophon the son of Grylus, is the

prototype, and Xenophon himself a sort of ancient Victor Hugo in this

matter of fondness for children.

C4.3. Contrast Autolycus in the _Symposium_, who had, however, reached

the more silent age [e.g. _Symp_., c. iii., fin. tr. Works, Vol. III.

Part I. p. 309].

C4.4. The touch about the puppy an instance of Xenophon's {katharotes}

[clear simplicity of style].

C4.8. Reads like a biographical incident in some hunt of Xenophon, boy

or father.

C4.9-10. The rapidity, one topic introducing and taken up by another,

wave upon wave, {anerithmon lelasma} ["the multitudinous laughter of the

sea"].

C4.12. The truth of this due to sympathy (cf. Archidamus and his father

Agesilaus, _Hell_., V. c. iv.; tr. Works, Vol. II. p. 126).

C4.22. Cyaxares recalls John Gilpin.

C4.24. An Hellenic trait; madness of battle-rage, {menis}. Something of

the fierceness of the _Iliad_ here.

C5.7. Cyrus. His first speech as a general; a fine one; a spirit

of athleticism breathes through it. Cf. _Memorabilia_ for a similar

rationalisation of virtuous self-restraint (e.g. _Mem_., Bk. I. c. 5, 6;

Bk. III. c. 8). Paleyan somewhat, perhaps Socratic, not devoid of common

sense. What is the end and aim of our training? Not only for an earthly

aim, but for a high spiritual reward, all this toil.

C5.10. This is Dakyns.

C5.11. "Up, Guards, and at 'em!"

C6. This chapter might have been a separate work appended to the

_Memorabilia_ on Polemics or Archics ["Science of War" and "Science of

Rule"].

C6.3-6. Sounds like some Socratic counsel; the righteous man's

conception of prayer and the part he must himself play.

C6.7. Personal virtue and domestic economy a sufficiently hard task,

let alone that still graver task, the art of grinding masses of men into

virtue.

C6.8, fin. The false theory of ruling in vogue in Media: the _plus_ of

ease instead of the _plus_ of foresight and danger-loving endurance. Cf.

Walt Whitman.

C6.30. Is like the logical remark of a disputant in a Socratic dialogue

of the Alcibiades type, and §§ 31-33 a Socratic _mythos_ to escape

from the dilemma; the breakdown of this ideal _plus_ and _minus_

righteousness due to the hardness of men's hearts and their feeble

intellects.

C6.31. Who is this ancient teacher or who is his prototype if he is an

ideal being? A sort of Socrates-Lycurgus? Or is Xenophon thinking of the

Spartan Crypteia?

C6.34. For _pleonexia_ and deceit in war, vide _Hipparch_., c. 5 [tr.

Works, Vol. III. Part II. p. 20]. Interesting and Hellenic, I think,

the mere raising of this sort of question; it might be done nowadays,

perhaps, with advantage _or_ disadvantage, less cant and more plain

brutality.

C6.39. Hunting devices applied: throws light on the date of the

_Cyropaedia_, after the Scilluntine days, probably. [After Xenophon was

exiled from Athens, his Spartan friends gave him a house and farm

at Scillus, a township in the Peloponnese, not far from Olympia. See

_Sketch of Xenophon's Life_, Works, Vol. I., p. cxxvi.]

C6.41, init. Colloquial exaggerated turn of phrase; almost "you could

wipe them off the earth."