[C.1] Such were the words of Cyrus; and Chrysantas rose up after him,
saying, "Gentlemen, this is not the first time I have had occasion to
observe that a good ruler differs in no respect from a good father. Even
as a father takes thought that blessings may never fail his children,
so Cyrus would commend to us the ways by which we can preserve our
happiness. And yet, on one point, it seemed to me he had spoken less
fully than he might; and I will try to explain it for the benefit of
those who have not learnt it. [2] I would have you ask yourselves, was
ever a hostile city captured by an undisciplined force? Did ever an
undisciplined garrison save a friendly town? When discipline was gone,
did ever an army conquer? Is ever disaster nearer than when each solider
thinks about his private safety only? Nay, in peace as in war, can any
good be gained if men will not obey their betters? What city could be at
rest, lawful, and orderly? What household could be safe? What ship sail
home to her haven? [3] And we, to what do we owe our triumph, if not to
our obedience? We obeyed; we were ready to follow the call by night and
day; we marched behind our leader, ranks that nothing could resist; we
left nothing half-done of all we were told to do. If obedience is the
one path to win the highest good, remember it is also the one way to
preserve it. [4] Now in the old days, doubtless, many of us ruled no one
else, we were simply ruled. But to-day you find yourselves rulers, one
and all of you, some over many and some over few. And just as you would
wish your subjects to obey you, so we must obey those who are set over
us. Yet there should be this difference between ourselves and slaves; a
slave renders unwilling service to his lord, but we, if we claim to be
freemen, must do of our own free will that which we see to be the best.
And you will find," he added, "that even when no single man is ruler,
that city which is most careful to obey authority is the last to bow to
the will of her enemies. [5] Let us listen to the words of Cyrus. Let
us gather round the public buildings and train ourselves, so that we may
keep our hold on all we care for, and offer ourselves to Cyrus for his
noble ends. Of one thing we may be sure: Cyrus will never put us to any
service which can make for his own good and not for ours. Our needs are
the same as his, and our foes the same."
[6] When Chrysantas had said his say, many others followed to support
him, Persians and allies alike, and it was agreed that the men of rank
and honour should be in attendance continually at the palace gates,
ready for Cyrus to employ, until he gave them their dismissal. That
custom is still in force, and to this day the Asiatics under the Great
King wait at the door of their rulers. [7] And the measures that Cyrus
instituted to preserve his empire, as set forth in this account, are
still the law of the land, maintained by all the kings who followed him.
[8] Only as in other matters, so here; with a good ruler, the government
is pure; with a bad one, corrupt. Thus it came about that the nobles of
Cyrus and all his honourable men waited at his gates, with their weapons
and their horses, according to the common consent of the gallant men who
had helped to lay the empire at his feet.
[9] Then Cyrus turned to other matters, and appointed various overseers:
he had receivers of revenue, controllers of finance, ministers of works,
guardians of property, superintendents of the household. Moreover, he
chose managers for his horses and his dogs, men who could be trusted
to keep the creatures in the best condition and ready for use at
any moment. [10] But when it came to those who were to be his
fellow-guardians for the commonwealth, he would not leave the care and
the training of these to others; he regarded that as his own personal
task. He knew, if he were ever to fight a battle, he would have to
choose his comrades and supporters, the men on his right hand and
left, from these and these alone; it was from them he must appoint his
officers for horse and foot. [11] If he had to send out a general alone
it would be from them that one must be sent: he must depend on them for
satraps and governors over cities and nations; he would require them for
ambassadors, and an embassy was, he knew, the best means for obtaining
what he wanted without war. [12] He foresaw that nothing could go well
if the agents in his weightiest affairs were not what they ought to be,
while, if they were, everything would prosper. This charge, therefore,
he took upon his own shoulders, and he was persuaded that the training
he demanded of others should also be undergone by himself. No man could
rouse others to noble deeds if he fell short of what he ought to be
himself. [13] The more he pondered the matter, the more he felt the need
of leisure, if he were to deal worthily with the highest matters.
It was, he felt, impossible to neglect the revenues, in view of the
enormous funds necessary for so vast an empire, yet he foresaw that if
he was always to be occupied with the multitude of his possessions he
would never have time to watch over the safety of the whole. [14] As
he pondered how he could compass both objects, the prosperity of the
finances and the leisure he required, the old military organisation
came into his mind. He remembered how the captains of ten supervised the
squads of ten, and were supervised themselves by the company-captains,
and they by the captains of the thousands, and these by the captains
of ten thousand, and thus even with hundreds of thousands not a man
was left without supervision, and when the general wished to employ his
troops one order to the captains of ten thousand was enough. [15] On
this principle Cyrus arranged his finances and held his departments
together; in this way, by conferring with a few officers he could keep
the whole system under his control, and actually have more leisure for
himself than the manager of a single household or the master of a single
ship. Finally, having thus ordered his own affairs, he taught those
about him to adopt the same system.
[16] Accordingly, having gained the leisure he needed for himself
and his friends, he could devote himself to his work of training his
partners and colleagues. In the first place he dealt with those who,
enabled as they were to live on the labour of others, yet failed to
present themselves at the palace; he would send for them and seek them
out, convinced that attendance would be wholesome for them; they would
be unwilling to do anything base or evil in the presence of their king
and under the eye of their noblest men; those who were absent were so
through self-indulgence or wrong-doing or carelessness. [17] And I will
now set forth how he brought them to attend. He would go to one of
his most intimate friends and bid him lay hands on the property of the
offender, asserting that it was his own. Then of course the truants
would appear at once crying out that they had been robbed. [18] But
somehow for many days Cyrus could never find leisure to hear their
complaints, and when he did listen he took care to defer judgment for
many more. [19] This was one way he had of teaching them to attend;
another was to assign the lightest and most profitable tasks to
those who were punctual, and a third to give nothing whatever to the
offenders. [20] But the most effective of all, for those who paid no
heed to gentler measures, was to deprive the truant of what he possessed
and bestow it on him who would come when he was needed. By this process
Cyrus gave up a useless friend and gained a serviceable one. To this
day the king sends for and seeks out those who do not present themselves
when they should.
[21] Such was his method with the truants; with those who came forward
he felt, since he was their rightful leader, that he could best incite
them to noble deeds by trying to show that he himself had all the
virtues that became a man. [22] He believed that men do grow better
through written laws, and he held that the good ruler is a living law
with eyes that see, inasmuch as he is competent to guide and also to
detect the sinner and chastise him. [23] Thus he took pains to show
that he was the more assiduous in his service to the gods the higher
his fortunes rose. It was at this time that the Persian priests, the
Magians, were first established as an order, and always at break of day
Cyrus chanted a hymn and sacrificed to such of the gods as they might
name. [24] And the ordinances he established service to this day at the
court of the reigning king. These were the first matters in which the
Persians set themselves to copy their prince; feeling their own fortune
would be the higher if they did reverence to the gods, following the man
who was fortune's favourite and their own monarch. At the same time, no
doubt, they thought they would please Cyrus by this. [25] On his side
Cyrus looked on the piety of his subjects as a blessing to himself,
reckoning as they do who prefer to sail in the company of pious men
rather than with those who are suspected of wicked deeds, and he
reckoned further that if all his partners were god-fearing, they would
be the less prone to crime against each other or against himself, for he
knew he was the benefactor of his fellows. [26] And by showing plainly
his own deep desire never to be unfair to friend or fellow-combatant or
ally, but always to fix his eyes on justice and rectitude, he believed
he could induce others to keep from base actions and walk in the paths
of righteousness. [27] And he would bring more modesty, he hoped, into
the hearts of all men if it were plain that he himself reverenced all
the world and would never say a shameful word to any man or woman or do
a shameful deed. [28] He looked for this because he saw that, apart
from kings and governors who may be supposed to inspire fear, men will
reverence the modest and not the shameless, and modesty in women will
inspire modesty in the men who behold them. [29] And his people, he
thought, would learn to obey if it were plain that he honoured frank and
prompt obedience even above virtues that made a grander show and were
harder to attain. [30] Such was his belief, and his practice went with
it to the end. His own temperance and the knowledge of it made others
more temperate. When they saw moderation and self-control in the man who
above all others had licence to be insolent, lesser men were the more
ready to abjure all insolence of their own. [31] But there was this
difference, Cyrus held, between modesty and self-control: the modest
man will do nothing shameful in the light of day, but the man of
self-control nothing base, not even in secret. [32] Self-restrain, he
believed, would best be cultivated if he made men see in himself one who
could not be dragged from the pursuit of virtue by the pleasure of the
moment, one who chose to toil first for the happy-hearted joys that go
hand-in-hand with beauty and nobleness. [33] Thus, being the man he
was, he established at his gates a stately company, where the lower gave
place to the higher, and they in their turn showed reverence to each
other, and courtesy, and perfect harmony. Among them all there was never
a cry of anger to be heard, nor a burst of insolent laughter; to look at
them was to know that they lived for honour and loveliness.
[34] Such was the life at the palace-gates, and to practise his nobles
in martial exercises he would lead them out to the hunt whenever he
thought it well, holding the chase to be the best training for war and
the surest way to excellence in horsemanship. [35] A man learns to keep
his seat, no matter what the ground may be, as he follows the flying
quarry, learns to hurl and strike on horseback in his eagerness to bring
down the game and win applause. [36] And here, above all, was the field
in which to inure his colleagues to toil and hardship and cold and heat
and hunger and thirst. Thus to this day the Persian monarch and his
court spend their leisure in the chase. [37] From all that has been
said, it is clear Cyrus was convinced that no one has a right to rule
who is not superior to his subjects, and he held that by imposing
such exercises as these on those about him, he would lead them to
self-control and bring to perfection the art and discipline of war. [38]
Accordingly he would put himself at the head of the hunting-parties and
take them out himself unless he was bound to stay at home, and, if he
was, he would hunt in his parks among the wild creatures he had reared.
He would never touch the evening meal himself until he had sweated for
it, nor give his horses their corn until they had been exercised, and
he would invite his own mace-bearers to join him in the chase. [39]
Therefore he excelled in all knightly accomplishments, he and those
about him, because of their constant practice. Such was the example he
set before his friends. But he also kept his eye on others, and would
single out those who worshipped noble deeds, and reward them with gifts,
and high commands, and seats at festivals, and every kind of honour.
And thus their hearts were filled with ambition, and every man longed to
outdo his fellows in the eyes of Cyrus.
[40] But we seem to learn also that Cyrus thought it necessary for the
ruler not only to surpass his subjects by his own native worth, but also
to charm them through deception and artifice. At any rate he adopted the
Median dress, and persuaded his comrades to do likewise; he thought it
concealed any bodily defect, enhancing the beauty and stature of the
wearer. [41] The shoe, for instance, was so devised that a sole could be
added without notice, and the man would seem taller than he really was.
So also Cyrus encouraged the use of ointments to make the eyes more
brilliant and pigments to make the skin look fairer. [42] And he trained
his courtiers never to spit or blow the nose in public or turn aside
to stare at anything; they were to keep the stately air of persons
whom nothing can surprise. These were all means to one end; to make it
impossible for the subjects to despise their rulers.
[43] Thus he moulded the men he considered worthy of command by his own
example, by the training he gave them, and by the dignity of his own
leadership. But the treatment of those he prepared for slavery was
widely different. Not one of them would he incite to any noble toil, he
would not even let them carry arms, and he was careful that they should
never lack food or drink in any manly sort. [44] When the beaters drove
the wild creatures into the plain he would allow food to be brought for
the servants, but not for the free men; on a march he would lead the
slaves to the water-springs as he led the beasts of burden. Or when it
was the hour of breakfast he would wait himself till they had taken a
snatch of food and stayed their wolfish hunger; and the end of it was
they called him their father even as the nobles did, because he cared
for them, but the object of his care was to keep them slaves for ever.
[45] Thus he secured the safety of the Persian empire. He himself, he
felt sure, ran no danger from the massages of the conquered people; he
saw they had no courage, no unity, and no discipline, and, moreover, not
one of them could ever come near him, day or night. [46] But there were
others whom he knew to be true warriors, who carried arms, and who
held by one another, commanders of horse and foot, many of them men of
spirit, confident, as he could plainly see, of their own power to rule,
men who were in close touch with his own guards, and many of them in
constant intercourse with himself; as indeed was essential if he was
to make any use of them at all. It was from them that danger was to be
feared; and that in a thousand ways. [47] How was he to guard against
it? He rejected the idea of disarming them; he thought this unjust,
and that it would lead to the dissolution of the empire. To refuse them
admission into his presence, to show them his distrust, would be, he
considered, a declaration of war. [48] But there was one method, he
felt, worth all the rest, an honourable method and one that would secure
his safety absolutely; to win their friendship if he could, and make
them more devoted to himself than to each other. I will now endeavour
to set forth the methods, so far as I conceive them, by which he gained
their love.
[C.2] In the first place he never lost an opportunity of showing
kindliness wherever he could, convinced that just as it is not easy to
love those who hate us, so it is scarcely possible to feel enmity for
those who love us and wish us well. [2] So long as he had lacked the
power to confer benefits by wealth, all he could do then was to show
his personal care for his comrades and his soldiers, to labour in their
behalf, manifest his joy in their good fortune and his sympathy in their
sorrows, and try to win them in that way. But when the time came for the
gifts of wealth, he realised that of all the kindnesses between man
and man none come with a more natural grace than the gifts of meat and
drink. [3] Accordingly he arranged that his table should be spread every
day for many guests in exactly the same way as for himself; and all that
was set before him, after he and his guests had dined, he would send out
to his absent friends, in token of affection and remembrance. He would
include those who had won his approval by their work on guard, or in
attendance on himself, or in any other service, letting them see that no
desire to please him could ever escape his eyes. [4] He would show the
same honour to any servant he wished to praise; and he had all the
food for them placed at his own board, believing this would win their
fidelity, as it would a dog's. Or, if he wished some friend of his to be
courted by the people, he would single him out for such gifts; even to
this day the world will pay court to those who have dishes sent them
from the Great King's table, thinking they must be in high favour at
the palace and can get things done for others. But no doubt there was
another reason for the pleasure in such gifts, and that was the sheer
delicious taste of the royal meats. [5] Nor should that surprise us;
for if we remember to what a pitch of perfection the other crafts are
brought in great communities, we ought to expect the royal dishes to be
wonders of finished art. In a small city the same man must make beds
and chairs and ploughs and tables, and often build houses as well; and
indeed he will be only too glad if he can find enough employers in all
trades to keep him. Now it is impossible that a single man working at a
dozen crafts can do them all well; but in the great cities, owing to the
wide demand for each particular thing, a single craft will suffice for a
means of livelihood, and often enough even a single department of that;
there are shoe-makers who will only make sandals for men and others only
for women. Or one artisan will get his living merely by stitching shoes,
another by cutting them out, a third by shaping the upper leathers, and
a fourth will do nothing but fit the parts together. Necessarily the man
who spends all his time and trouble on the smallest task will do that
task the best. [6] The arts of the household must follow the same law.
If one and the same servant makes the bed, spreads the table, kneads the
dough, and cooks the various dishes, the master must take things as they
come, there is no help for it. But when there is work enough for one man
to boil the pot, and another to roast the meat, and a third to stew the
fish, and a fourth to fry it, while some one else must bake the bread,
and not all of it either, for the loaves must be of different kinds,
and it will be quite enough if the baker can serve up one kind to
perfection--it is obvious, I think, that in this way a far higher
standard of excellence will be attained in every branch of the work.
[7] Thus it is easy to see how Cyrus could outdo all competitors in the
grace of hospitality, and I will now explain how he came to triumph
in all other services. Far as he excelled mankind in the scale of his
revenues, he excelled them even more in the grandeur of his gifts. It
was Cyrus who set the fashion; and we are familiar to this day with the
open-handedness of Oriental kings. [8] There is no one, indeed, in all
the world whose friends are seen to be as wealthy as the friends of the
Persian monarch: no one adorns his followers in such splendour of
rich attire, no gifts are so well known as his, the bracelets, and the
necklaces, and the chargers with the golden bridles. For in that country
no one can have such treasures unless the king has given them. [9] And
of whom but the Great King could it be said that through the splendour
of his presents he could steal the hearts of men and turn them to
himself, away from brothers, fathers, sons? Who but he could stretch out
an arm and take vengeance on his enemies when yet they were months and
months away? Who but Cyrus ever won an empire in war, and when he died
was called father by the people he overcame?--a title that proclaims the
benefactor and not the robber. [10] Indeed, we are led to think that the
offices called "the king's eyes" and "the king's ears" came into being
through this system of gifts and honours. Cyrus' munificence toward
all who told him what it was well for him to know set countless people
listening with all their ears and watching with all their eyes for news
that might be of service to him. [11] Thus there sprang up a host of
"king's eyes" and "king's ears," as they were called, known and reputed
to be such. But it is a mistake to suppose that the king has one chosen
"eye." It is little that one man can see or one man hear, and to hand
over the office to one single person would be to bid all others go to
sleep. Moreover, his subjects would feel they must be on their guard
before the man they knew was "the king's eye." The contrary is the case;
the king will listen to any man who asserts that he has heard or seen
anything that needs attention. [12] Hence the saying that the king has
a thousand eyes and a thousand ears; and hence the fear of uttering
anything against his interest since "he is sure to hear," or doing
anything that might injure him "since he may be there to see." So far,
therefore, from venturing to breathe a syllable against Cyrus, every man
felt that he was under the eye and within the hearing of a king who was
always present. For this universal feeling towards him I can give no
other reason than his resolve to be a benefactor on a most mighty scale.
[13] It is not surprising, no doubt, that being the wealthiest of men,
he could outdo the world in the splendour of his gifts. The remarkable
thing was to find a king outstrip his courtiers in courtesy and
kindness. There was nothing, so the story runs, that could ever shame
him more than to be outdone in courtesy. [14] Indeed, a saying of his is
handed down comparing a good king to a good shepherd--the shepherd must
manage his flock by giving them all they need, and the king must satisfy
the needs of his cities and his subjects if he is to manage them. We
need not wonder, then, that with such opinions his ambition was to excel
mankind in courtesy and care. [15] There was a noble illustration of his
philosophy in the answer we are told he gave to Croesus, who had
taken him to task, saying his lavish gifts would bring him to beggary,
although he could lay by more treasures for himself than any man had
ever had before. Cyrus, it is said, asked him in return, "How much
wealth do you suppose I could have amassed already, had I collected
gold, as you bid me, ever since I came into my empire?"
[16] And Croesus named an enormous sum. Then Cyrus said, "Listen,
Croesus, here is my friend, Hystaspas, and you must send with him a man
that you can trust." Then, turning to Hystaspas, "Do you," he said,
"go round to my friends and tell them that I need money for a certain
enterprise--and that is true, I do need it. Bid each of them write down
the amount he can give me, seal the letter, and hand it to the messenger
of Croesus, who will bring it here." [17] Thereupon Cyrus wrote his
wishes and put his seal on the letter, and gave it to Hystaspas to carry
round, only he added a request that they should all welcome Hystaspas
as a friend of his. And when the messengers came back, the officer of
Croesus carrying the answers, Hystaspas cried, "Cyrus, my lord, you must
know I am a rich man now! I have made my fortune, thanks to your letter!
They have loaded me with gifts." [18] And Cyrus said, "There, Croesus,
that is treasure number one; and now run through the rest, and count
what sums I have in hand, in case I need them." And Croesus counted,
and found, so the story tells us, that the sum was far larger than the
amount he had said would have been lying in the treasury if only Cyrus
had made a hoard. [19] At this discovery Cyrus said, so we are told,
"You see, Croesus, I have my treasures too. Only you advise me to
collect them and hide them, and be envied and hated because of them, and
set mercenaries to guard them, putting my trust in hirelings. But I
hold to it that if I make my friends rich they will be my treasures
themselves, and far better guards too, for me and all we have, than if I
set hired watchmen over my wealth. [20] And I have somewhat else to say;
I tell you, Croesus, there is something the gods have implanted in our
souls, and there they have made us all beggars alike, something I can
never overcome. [21] I too, like all the rest, am insatiate of riches,
only in one respect I fancy I am different. Most men when they have more
wealth than they require bury some of it underground, and let some of it
rot, and some they count and measure, and they guard it and they air
it, and give themselves a world of trouble, and yet for all their
wealth they cannot eat more than they have stomach for--they would burst
asunder if they did--nor wear more clothes than they can carry--they
would die of suffocation--and so their extra wealth means nothing but
extra work. [22] For my part, I serve the gods, and I stretch out my
hands for more and more; only when I have got what is beyond my own
requirements I piece out the wants of my friends, and so, helping my
fellows, I purchase their love and their goodwill, and out of these I
garner security and renown, fruits that can never rot, rich meats that
can work no mischief; for glory, the more it grows, the grander it
becomes, and the fairer, and the lighter to be borne; it even gives a
lighter step to those who bear it. [23] One thing more, Croesus, I would
have you know; the happiest men, in my judgment, are not the holders
of vast riches and the masters who have the most to guard; else the
sentinels of our citadels would be the happiest of mortals, seeing they
guard the whole wealth of the state. He, I hold, has won the crown
of happiness who has had the skill to gain wealth by the paths of
righteousness and use it for all that is honourable and fair."
[24] That was the doctrine Cyrus preached, and all men could see that
his practice matched his words.
Moreover, he observed that the majority of mankind, if they live in good
health for long, will only lay by such stores and requisites as may be
used by a healthy man, and hardly care at all to have appliances at hand
in case of sickness. But Cyrus was at the pains to provide these; he
encouraged the ablest physicians of the day by his liberal payments, and
if ever they recommended an instrument or a drug or a special kind of
food or drink, he never failed to procure it and have it stored in the
palace.
[25] And whenever any one fell sick among those who had peculiar claims
on his attentions, he would visit them and bring them all they needed,
and he showed especial gratitude to the doctors if they cured their
patients by the help of his own stores. [26] These measures, and others
like them, he adopted to win the first place in the hearts of those
whose friendship he desired. Moreover, the contests he proclaimed and
the prizes he offered to awaken ambition and desire for gallant deeds
all redounded to his own glory as a man who had the pursuit of nobleness
at heart, while they bred strife and bitter rivalry among the champions
themselves. [27] Further, he laid it down that in every matter needing
arbitration, whether it were a suit-at-law or a trial of skill, the
parties should concur in their choice of a judge. Each would try to
secure the most powerful man he knew and the one most friendly to
himself, and if he lost he envied his successful rival and hated the
judge who had declared against him, while the man who won claimed to win
because his case was just and felt he owed no gratitude to anybody.
[28] Thus all who wished to be first in the affections of Cyrus, just as
others in democratic states, were full of rancour against each other, in
fact most of them would sooner have seen their rivals exterminated than
join with them for any common good. Such are some of the devices by
which he made the ablest of his subjects more attached to himself than
to one another.
[C.3] I will now describe the first public progress that Cyrus made. For
the very solemnity of the ceremony was one of the artifices by which
he won reverence for his government. The day before it he summoned the
officers of state, the Persians and the others, and gave them all the
splendid Median dress. This was the first time the Persians wore it,
and as they received the robes he said that he wished to drive in his
chariot to the sacred precincts and offer sacrifice with them. [2] "You
will present yourselves at my gates," he added, "before the sun rises,
attired in these robes, and you will take your places where Pheraulas
the Persian bids you on my behalf. As soon as I lead the way you will
follow in your appointed order. And if any of you should think of some
change to heighten the beauty and stateliness of our procession, you
will acquaint me with it, I pray, on our return; it is for us to see
that all is done in the manner you feel to be most beautiful and best."
[3] With that Cyrus gave the most splendid robes to his chief notables,
and then he brought out others, for he had stores of Median garments,
purple and scarlet and crimson and glowing red, and gave a share to each
of his generals and said to them, "Adorn your friends, as I have adorned
you." [4] Then one of them asked him, "And you, O Cyrus, when will you
adorn yourself?" But he answered, "Is it not adornment enough for me
to have adorned you? If I can but do good to my friends, I shall look
glorious enough, whatever robe I wear."
[5] So his nobles took their leave, and sent for their friends and
put the splendid raiment on them. Meanwhile Cyrus summoned Pheraulas,
knowing that, while he was a man of the people, he was also
quick-witted, a lover of the beautiful, prompt to understand and to
obey, and one who had ever an eye to please his master. It was he who
had supported Cyrus long ago when he proposed that honour should be
given in proportion to desert. And now Cyrus asked him how he thought
the procession might be made most beautiful in the eyes of friends and
most formidable in the sight of foes. [6] So they took counsel and were
of the same mind, and Cyrus bade Pheraulas see that all was done on the
morrow as they had agreed.
"I have issued orders," he added, "for all to obey you in the matter,
but to make them the more willing, take these tunics yourself and give
them to the captains of the guard, and these military cloaks for the
cavalry officers, and these tunics for those who command the chariots."
[7] So Pheraulas took the raiment and departed, and when the generals
saw him, they met him with shouts and cries, "A monstrous fine fellow
you are, Pheraulas!" said one: "you are to give us our orders, it
seems!"
"Oh, yes," said Pheraulas, "and carry your baggage too. Here I come with
two cloaks as it is, one for you and another for somebody else: you must
choose whichever you like the best."
[8] At that the officer put out his hand to take the cloak; he had clean
forgotten his jealousy, and fell to asking Pheraulas which he had
better choose. And Pheraulas gave his advice, adding, "But if you inform
against me, and let out that I gave you the choice, the next time I have
to wait upon you you will find me a very different sort of serving-man."
Thus he distributed the gifts he brought, and then he saw to the
arrangements for the procession so that everything should be as far as
possible.
[9] On the morrow all things were ready before day-break, ranks lining
the road on either hand, as they do to this day when the king is
expected to ride abroad--no one may pass within the lines unless he is
a man of mark--and constables were posted with whips, to use at any sign
of disturbance.
In front of the palace stood the imperial guard of lancers, four
thousand strong, drawn up four deep on either side of the gates. [10]
And all the cavalry were there, the men standing beside their horses,
with their hands wrapped in their cloaks, as is the custom to this day
for every subject when the king's eye is on him. The Persians stood on
the right, and the allies on the left, and the chariots were posted in
the same way, half on one side and half on the other. [11] Presently the
palace-gates were flung open, and at the head of the procession were
led out the bulls for sacrifice, beautiful creatures, four and four
together. They were to be offered to Zeus and to any other gods that the
Persian priests might name. For the Persians think it of more importance
to follow the guidance of the learned in matters pertaining to the gods
than in anything else whatever.
[12] After the oxen came horses, an offering to the Sun, then a white
chariot with a golden yoke, hung with garlands and dedicated to Zeus,
and after that the white car of the Sun, wreathed like the one before
it, and then a third chariot, the horses of which were caparisoned with
scarlet trappings, and behind walked men carrying fire upon a mighty
hearth. [13] And then at last Cyrus himself was seen, coming forth from
the gates in his chariot, wearing his tiara on his head, and a purple
tunic shot with white, such as none but the king may wear, and trews of
scarlet, and a cloak of purple. Round his tiara he wore a diadem, and
his kinsmen wore the same, even as the custom is to this day. [14]
And the king's hands hung free outside his cloak. Beside him stood a
charioteer--he was a tall man, but he seemed to be dwarfed by Cyrus;
whether it was really so, or whether there was some artifice at work,
Cyrus towered above him. At the sight of the king, the whole company
fell on their faces. Perhaps some had been ordered to do this and so
set the fashion, or perhaps the multitude were really overcome by the
splendour of the pageant and the sight of Cyrus himself, stately and
tall and fair. [15] For hitherto none of the Persians had done obeisance
to Cyrus.
And now, as the chariot moved onwards, the four thousand lancers went
before it, two thousand on either side, and close behind came the
mace-bearers, mounted on horseback, with javelins in their hands, three
hundred strong. [16] Then the royal steeds were led past, with golden
bridles and striped housings, two hundred and more, and then followed
two thousand spearmen and after them the squadron of cavalry first
formed, ten thousand men, a hundred deep and a hundred riding abreast,
with Chrysantas at their head. [17] And behind them the second body
of the Persian horse, ten thousand more, in the same order, under
Hystaspas, and then again ten thousand under Datamas, and others behind
them under Gadatas. [18] And after them the Median cavalry, and then
the Armenians, the Hyrcanians, the Cadousians, and the Sakians in their
order; and after the cavalry a squadron of war-chariots, drawn up four
deep, with Artabatas the Persian in command.
[19] All along the route thousands of men followed, outside the
barriers, with petitions to Cyrus. Accordingly he sent his mace-bearers,
who rode beside him for the purpose, three on either side of his
chariot, bidding them tell the crowd of suitors, if they had need of
anything, to acquaint one of the cavalry officers and he would speak for
them. So the petitioners withdrew, and fell to marching along the
lines of the cavalry, considering whom they should address. [20] Cyrus
meanwhile would send messengers to the friends he wished to be courted,
saying to them, "If any man appeals to you and you think nothing of what
he says, pay no heed to him, but if his request seems just, report it to
me, and we will discuss it together and arrange matters for him." [21]
As a rule the officers so summoned did not loiter, but dashed up at
full speed, glad to enhance the authority of Cyrus and to show their
own allegiance. But there was a certain Daïpharnes, a person of somewhat
boorish manners, who fancied that he would make a show of greater
independence if he did not hurry himself. [22] Cyrus noted this, and
quietly, before the man could reach him, sent another messenger to say
he had no further need of him; and that was the last time Daïpharnes
was ever summoned. [23] And when the next officer rode up, in front of
Daïpharnes though sent for after him, Cyrus presented him with a horse
from his train and bade one of the mace-bearers lead it wherever he
wished. The people saw in this a high mark of honour; and a greater
crowd than ever paid their court to the favoured man.
[24] When the procession reached the sacred precincts, sacrifice
was offered to Zeus, a whole burnt-offering of bulls, and a whole
burnt-offering of horses to the Sun; and then they sacrificed to the
Earth, slaying the victims as the Persian priests prescribed, and then
to the heroes who hold the Syrian land. [25] And when the rites were
done, Cyrus, seeing that the ground was suitable for racing, marked out
a goal, and a course half-a-mile in length, and bade the cavalry and
the chariots match their horses against each other, tribe by tribe. He
himself raced among his Persians, and won with ease, for he was far the
best horseman there. The winner among the Medes was Artabazus, the
horse he rode being a gift from Cyrus. The Syrian race was won by their
chieftain, the Armenian by Tigranes, the Hyrcanian by the general's son,
and the Sakian by a private soldier who left all his rivals half the
course behind him.
[26] Cyrus, so the story says, asked the young man if he would take a
kingdom for his horse.
"No kingdom for me," answered the soldier, "but I would take the thanks
of a gallant fellow."
[27] "Well," said Cyrus, "I would like to show you where you could
hardly fail to hit one, even if you shut your eyes."
"Be so good as to show me now," said the Sakian, "and I will take aim
with this clod," picking up one from the ground.
[28] Then Cyrus pointed to a group of his best friends, and the other
shut his eyes and flung the clod, and it struck Pheraulas as he galloped
by, bearing some message from Cyrus. But he never so much as turned,
flashing past on his errand. [29] Then the Sakian opened his eyes and
asked whom he had hit?
"Nobody, I assure you," said Cyrus, "who is here."
"And nobody who is not, of course," said the young man.
"Oh yes, you did," answered Cyrus, "you hit that officer over there who
is riding so swiftly paste the chariot-lines."
[30] "And how is it," asked the other, "that he does not even turn his
head?"
"Half-witted, probably," said Cyrus.
Whereat the young man rode off to see who it was, and found Pheraulas,
with his chin and beard all begrimed and bloody, gore trickling from his
nostrils were the clod had struck him. [31] The Sakian cried out to know
if he was hit.
"As you see," answered Pheraulas.
"Then," said the other, "let me give you my horse."
"But why?" asked Pheraulas.
And so the Sakian had to tell him all about the matter, adding, "And
after all, you see, I did not miss a gallant fellow."
[32] "Ah," said Pheraulas, "if you had been wise, you would have chosen
a richer one; but I take your gift with all my thanks. And I pray the
gods," he added, "who let me be your target, to help me now and see that
you may never regret your gift. For the present, mount my horse yourself
and ride back; I will be with you shortly."
So they exchanged steeds and parted.
The winner of the Cadousian race was Rathines.
[33] Then followed chariot-races, tribe by tribe as before: and to all
the winners Cyrus gave goblets of price, and oxen, that they might have
the wherewithal for sacrifice and feasting. He himself took an ox for
his own meed, but he gave all the goblets to Pheraulas to show his
approval of the arrangements for the march. [34] And the manner of that
procession, then first established by Cyrus, continues to this day, the
same in all things, save that the victims are absent when there is no
sacrifice. And when it was over, the soldiers went back to the city, and
took up their quarters for the night, some in houses and some with their
regiments.
[35] Now Pheraulas had invited the Sakian who had given him the horse,
and he entertained him with the best he had, and set before him a full
board, and after they had dined he filled the goblets Cyrus had given
him, and drank to his guest, and offered them all to him. [36] And
the Sakian looked round on the rich and costly rugs, and the beautiful
furniture, and the train of servants, and cried:
"Tell me, Pheraulas, do you belong to wealthy folk at home?"
[37] "Wealthy folk indeed!" cried Pheraulas, "men who live by their
hands, you mean. My father, I can tell you, had work enough to rear me
and get me a boy's schooling; he had to toil hard and live sparely, and
when I grew to be a lad he could not afford to keep me idle, he took me
to a farm in the country and set me there to work it. [38] Then it was
my turn, and I supported him while he lived, digging with my own hands
and sowing the seed in a ridiculous little plot of ground, and yet it
was not a bad bit of soil either, but as good and as honest earth as
ever you saw: whatever seed it got from me, it paid me back again, and
so prettily and carefully and duly, principal and interest both; not
that the interest was very much, I won't say it was, though once or
twice, out of pure generosity, that land gave me twice was much as I put
into it. That's how I used to live at home, in the old days: to-day it's
different, and all that you see here I owe to Cyrus."
[39] Then the Sakian cried:
"O lucky fellow! Lucky in everything, and most of all in coming to
wealth from beggary! I know your riches must taste the sweeter, because
you hungered for them first and now are full."
[40] But Pheraulas answered:
"Do you really think, my friend, that my joy in life has grown with the
growth of my wealth? Do you not know," he went on, "that I neither eat
nor drink nor sleep with any more zest than I did when I was poor? What
I get by all these goods is simply this: I have more to watch over, more
to distribute, and more trouble in looking after more. [41] I have a
host of servants now, one set asking me for food, another for drink,
another for clothing, and some must have the doctor, and then a herdsman
comes, carrying the carcase of some poor sheep mangled by the wolves, or
perhaps with an ox that has fallen down a precipice, or maybe he has to
tell me that a murrain has broken out among my flocks. It seems to me,"
Pheraulas ended, "that I suffer more to-day through having much than
ever I did before through having nothing."
[42] "But--Heaven help us!" cried the Sakian, "surely, when it is all
safe, to see so much of your own must make you much happier than me?"
"I assure you, my friend," said Pheraulas, "the possession of riches
is nothing like so sweet as the loss of them is painful. And here is a
proof for you: no rich man lies awake from pure joy at his wealth, but
did you ever know a man who could close his eyes when he was losing?"
[43] "No," said the Sakian, "nor yet one who could drop asleep when he
was winning."
[44] "True enough," answered the other, "and if having were as sweet as
getting, the rich would be a thousand times more happy than the poor.
And remember, stranger," he added, "a man who has much must spend much
on the gods and his friends and his guests, and if he takes intense
delight in his riches, spending will cause him intense annoyance."
[45] "Upon my word," said the Sakian, "for myself, I am not that sort
of man at all: to have much and to spend much is just my idea of perfect
happiness."
[46] "Heavens!" cried Pheraulas, "what a chance for us both! You can win
perfect happiness now, this instant, and make me happy too! Here, take
all these things for your own, make what use of them you please; and
as for me, you can keep me as your guest, only much more cheaply if
you like: it will be quite enough for me to share whatever you have
yourself."
"You are jesting," said the Sakian.
[47] But Pheraulas swore with all solemnity that he spoke in earnest.
"Yes, my friend," he added, "and there are other matters that I can
arrange for you with Cyrus: freedom from military service or attendance
at the gates. All you will have to do will be to stay at home and grow
rich: I will do the rest on your behalf and mine. And if I win any
treasure through my service at court or on the field, I will bring it
home to you, and you will be lord of more; only," he added, "you must
free me from the responsibility of looking after it, for if you give me
leisure from these cares I believe you will be of great use to Cyrus and
myself."
[48] So the talk ended and they struck a bargain on these terms, and
kept it. And the Sakian thought he had found happiness because he was
the master of much wealth, and the other felt he was in bliss because he
had got a steward who would leave him leisure to do what he liked
best. [49] For the character of Pheraulas was amiable: he was a loving
comrade, and no service seemed so sweet to him or so helpful as the
service of man. Man, he believed, was the noblest of the animals and the
most grateful: praise, Pheraulas saw, will reap counter-praise, kindness
will stir kindness in return, and goodwill goodwill; those whom men know
to love them they cannot hate, and, in a way no other animals will, they
cherish their parents in life and in death and requite their care. All
other creatures, in short, compared with man, are lacking in gratitude
and heart.
[50] Thus Pheraulas was overjoyed to feel that he could now be quit of
anxiety for his wealth, and devote himself to his friends, while the
Sakian was delighted with all that he had and all that he could use. The
Sakian loved Pheraulas because he was for ever adding something to the
store, and Pheraulas loved the Sakian because he was willing to assume
the entire burden, and however much the cares increased he never broke
into the other's leisure. Thus those two lived their lives.
[C.4] Now Cyrus offered sacrifice and held high festival for his
victories, and he summoned to the feast those of his friends who bore
him most affection and had shown most desire to exalt him. With them
were bidden Artabazus the Mede, and Tigranes the Armenian, and the
commander of the Hyrcanian cavalry, and Gobryas. [2] Gadatas was the
chief of the mace-bearers, and the whole household was arranged as he
advised. When there were guests at dinner, Gadatas would not sit down,
but saw to everything, and when they were alone he sat at meat with
Cyrus, who took delight in his company, and in return for all his
services he was greatly honoured by Cyrus and that led to more honours
for others. [3] As the guests entered, Gadatas would show each man to
his seat, and the places were chosen with care: the friend whom Cyrus
honoured most was placed on his left hand (for that was the side
most open to attack), the second on his right, the third next to the
left-hand guest, and the fourth next to the right, and so on, whatever
the number of guests might be. [4] Cyrus thought it well it should be
known how much each man was honoured, for he saw that where the world
believes merit will win no crown and receive no proclamation, there the
spirit of emulation dies, but if all see that the best man gains most,
then the rivalry grows keen. [5] Thus it was that Cyrus marked out the
men he favoured by the seat of honour and the order of precedence. Nor
did he assign the honourable place to one friend for all time; he made
it a law that by good deeds a man might rise into a higher seat or
through sloth descend into a lower; and he would have felt ashamed if it
were not known that the guest most honoured at his table received most
favours at his hands. These customs that arose in the reign of Cyrus
continue to our time, as we can testify.
[6] While they were at the feast that day it struck Gobryas that though
there was nothing surprising in the abundance and variety at the table
of one who was lord over so vast an empire, yet it was strange that
Cyrus, who had done such mighty deeds, should never keep any dainty for
himself, but must always be at pains to share it with the company. More
than once also he saw Cyrus send off to an absent friend some dish that
had chanced to please him. [7] So that by the time they had finished
their meal all the viands had been given away by Cyrus, and the board
was bare.
Then Gobryas said, "Truly, Cyrus, until to-day I used to think it was in
generalship that you outshone other men the most, but, by heaven! I say
now it is not in generalship at all, it is generosity."
[8] "Maybe," said Cyrus, "at least I take far more pride in this work
than in the other."
"How can that be?" asked Gobryas.
"Because," said he, "the one does good to man and the other injury."
[9] Presently as the wine went round and round, Hystaspas turned to
Cyrus and said:
"Would you be angry, Cyrus, if I asked something I long to know?"
"On the contrary," answered Cyrus, "I should be vexed if I saw you
silent when you longed to ask."
"Tell me then," said the other, "have you ever called me and found I
refused to come?"
"What a question!" said Cyrus, "of course not."
"Well, have I ever been slow in coming?"
"No, never."
"Or failed to do anything you ordered?"
"No," said Cyrus, "I have no fault to find at all."
"Whatever I had to do, I always did it eagerly and with all my heart,
did I not?"
"Most assuredly," answered Cyrus.
[10] "Then why, Cyrus, why, in heaven's name, have you singled out
Chrysantas for a more honourable seat than me?"
"Shall I really tell you?" asked Cyrus in his turn.
"By all means," said the other.
"And you will not be annoyed if I tell you the plain truth?"
[11] "On the contrary, it will comfort me to know I have not been
wronged."
"Well, then, Chrysantas never waited to be called; he came of his own
accord on our behalf, and he made it his business to do, not merely what
he was ordered, but whatever he thought would help us. When something
had to be said to the allies, he would not only suggest what was fitting
for me to say myself, he would guess what I wanted the allies to know
but could not bring myself to utter, since it was about myself, and
he would say it for me as though it were his own opinion; in fact, for
everything of the kind he was nothing less to me than a second and a
better self. And now he is always insisting that what he has already
got is quite enough for himself, and always trying to discover something
more for me: he takes a greater pride and joy in all my triumphs than I
do myself."
[12] "By Hera," said Hystaspas, "I am right glad I asked you. Only one
thing puzzles me: how am I to show my joy at your success? Shall I clap
my hands and laugh, or what shall I do?"
"Dance the Persian dance, of course," said Artabazus. And all the
company laughed.
[13] And as the drinking deepened Cyrus put a question to Gobryas.
"Tell me, Gobryas, would you be better pleased to give your daughter to
one of our company to-day than the day when you met us first?"
"Well," said Gobryas, "am I also to tell the truth?"
"Certainly," said Cyrus, "no question looks for a lie."
"Then," said Gobryas, "I assure you, I would far rather give her in
marriage to-day."
"Can you tell us why?" said Cyrus.
"That I can," said he.
[14] "Say on, then."
"At that time, I saw, it is true, the gallant manner in which your men
endured toil and danger, but to-day I see the modesty with which they
bear success. And I believe, Cyrus, that the man who takes good-fortune
well is further to seek than he who can endure adversity; for success
engenders insolence in many hearts, while suffering teaches sobriety and
fortitude."
[15] And Cyrus said, "Hystaspas, did you hear the saying of Gobryas?"
"I did indeed," he answered, "and if he has many more as good, he will
find me a suitor for his daughter, a far more eager one than if he had
shown me all his goblets."
[16] "Well," said Gobryas, "I have many such written down at home,
and you may have them all if you take my daughter to wife. And as for
goblets," he added, "since it seems you cannot away with them, perhaps
I might give them to Chrysantas to punish him for having filled your
seat."
[17] "Listen to me," said Cyrus, "Hystaspas, and all of you. If you
will but tell me, any of you, when you propose to marry, you would soon
discover what a clever advocate you had in me."
[18] But Gobryas interposed, "And if one of us wants to give his
daughter in marriage, to whom should he apply?"
"To me also," answered Cyrus; "I assure you, I am adept in the art."
"What art is that?" Chrysantas inquired.
[19] "The art of discerning the wife to suit each man."
"Then by all the gods," said Chrysantas, "tell me what sort of wife
would do for me?"
[20] "In the first place," he answered, "she must be short, for you are
not tall yourself, and if you married a tall maiden and wanted to give
her a kiss when she stood up straight, you would have to jump to reach
her like a little dog."
"Your advice is straight enough," said Chrysantas; "and I am but a sorry
jumper at the best."
[21] "In the next place," Cyrus went on, "a flat nose would suit you
very well."
"A flat nose?" said the other, "why?"
"Because your own is high enough, and flatness, you may be sure, will go
best with height."
"You might as well say," retorted Chrysantas, "that one who has dined
well, like myself, is best matched with the dinnerless."
"Quite so," answered Cyrus, "a full stomach is high and an empty paunch
is flat."
[22] "And now," said Chrysantas, "in heaven's name, tell us the bride
for a flat king?"
But at this Cyrus laughed outright, and all the others with him. [23]
And the laughter still rang loud when Hystaspas said:
"There is one thing, Cyrus, that I envy in your royal state more than
all the rest."
"And what is that?" said Cyrus.
"That though you are flat, you can raise a laugh."
"Ah," said Cyrus, "what would you give to have as much said of you? To
have it reported on all sides and wherever you wished to stand well that
you were a man of wit?"
Thus they bantered each other and gave jest for jest.
[24] Then Cyrus brought out a woman's attire and ornaments of price
and gave them to Tigranes as a present for his wife, because she had
followed her husband so manfully to the war, and he gave a golden goblet
to Artabazus, and a horse to the Hyrcanian leader, and many another
splendid gift among the company.
"And to you, Gobryas," said he, "I will give a husband for your
daughter."
[25] "Let me be the gift," said Hystaspas, "and then I shall get those
writings."
"But have you a fortune on your side," asked Cyrus, "to match the
bride's?"
"Certainly, I have," he answered, "I may say twenty times as great."
"And where," asked Cyrus, "may those treasures be?"
"At the foot of your throne," he answered, "my gracious lord."
"I ask no more," said Gobryas, and held out his right hand. "Give him to
me, Cyrus," he said; "I accept him."
[26] At that Cyrus took the right hand of Hystaspas and laid it in the
hand of Gobryas, and the pledge was given and received. Then Cyrus gave
beautiful gifts to Hystaspas for his bride, but he drew Chrysantas to
his breast and kissed him. [27] Thereupon Artabazus cried:
"Heaven help us, Cyrus! The goblet you gave me is not of the fine gold
you have given Chrysantas now!"
"Well," said Cyrus, "you shall have the same one day."
"When?" asked the other.
"Thirty years hence," said Cyrus.
"I will wait," said Artabazus: "I will not die: be ready for me."
And then the banquet came to an end: the guests rose, and Cyrus stood up
with them and conducted them to the door.
[28] But on the morrow he arranged that all the allies and all who had
volunteered should be sent back to their homes, all except those who
wished to take up their abode with him. To these he gave grants of land
and houses, still held by their descendants, Medes for the greater part,
and Hyrcanians. And to those who went home he gave many gifts and
sent them away well content, both officers and men. [29] After this
he distributed among his own soldiers all the wealth he had taken at
Sardis, choice gifts for the captains of ten thousand and for his own
staff in proportion to their deserts, and the rest in equal shares,
delivering to every captain one share with orders to divide it among
their subordinates as he had divided the whole among them. [30]
Thereupon each officer gave to the officers directly under him, judging
the worth of each, until it came to the captains of six, who considered
the cases of the privates in their own squads, and gave each man what
he deserved: and thus every soldier in the army received an equitable
share. [31] But after the distribution of it all there were some who
said:
"How rich Cyrus must be, to have given us all so much!"
"Rich?" cried others, "what do you mean? Cyrus is no money-maker: he is
more glad to give than to get."
[32] When Cyrus heard of this talk and the opinions held about him, he
gathered together his friends and the chief men of the state and spoke
as follows:
"Gentlemen and friends of mine, I have known men who were anxious to
have it thought they possessed more than they really had, thinking this
would give them an air of freedom and nobility. But in my opinion the
result was the very opposite of what they wished. If it is thought that
a man has great riches and does not help his friends in proportion to
his wealth, he cannot but appear ignoble and niggardly. [33] There are
others," he went on, "who would have their wealth forgotten, and these I
look upon as traitors to their friends: for it must often happen that
a comrade is in need and yet hesitates to tell them because he does
not know how much they have, and so he is kept in the dark and left to
starve. [34] The straightforward course, it seems to me, is always to
make no secret of our own resources, but to use them all, whatever they
are, in our efforts to win the crown of honour. Accordingly I am anxious
to show you all my possessions so far as they can be seen, and to give
you a list of the rest."
[35] With these words he proceeded to point out his visible treasures,
and he gave an exact account of those that could not be shown. He ended
by saying:
[36] "All these things, gentlemen, you must consider yours as much as
mine. I have collected them, not that I might spend them on myself or
waste them in my own use: I could not do that if I tried. I keep them to
reward him who does a noble deed, and to help any of you who may be in
want of anything, so that you may come to me and take what ou require."
Such were the words of Cyrus.
[C.5] But now that all was well in Babylon and Cyrus felt he might leave
the land, he began to prepare for a march to Persia, and sent out orders
to his men. And when he had all he needed, the steeds were yoked, and
he set off. [2] And here we will explain how it was that so vast a host
could unpack and pack again without a break of order, and take up a
position with such speed wherever it was desired. When the king is on
the march his attendants, of course, are provided with tents and encamp
with him, winter and summer alike. [3] From the first the Cyrus made it
a custom to have his tent pitched facing east, and later on he fixed the
space to be left between himself and his lancers, and then he stationed
his bakers on the right and his cooks on the left, the cavalry on the
right again, and the baggage-train on the left. Everything else was so
arranged that each man knew his own quarters, their position and their
size. [4] When the army was packing up after a halt, each man put
together the baggage he used himself, and others placed it on the
animals: so that at one and the same moment all his bearers came to the
baggage-train and each man laid his load on his own beasts. Thus all the
tents could be struck in the same time as one. [5] And it was the
same when the baggage had to be unpacked. Again, in order that the
necessaries should be prepared in time, each man was told beforehand
what he had to do: and thus all the divisions could be provided for as
speedily as one. [6] And, just as the serving-men had their appointed
places, so the different regiments had their own stations, adapted to
their special style of fighting, and each detachment knew their quarters
and went to them without hesitation. [7] Even in a private house,
orderliness, Cyrus knew, was a most excellent thing: every one, if he
needed anything, would then know where to get it; but he held it still
more desirable for the arrangement of an army, seeing that the moment
for action passes far more quickly in war and the evil from being too
late is far more grave. Therefore he gave more thought and care to order
and arrangement than to anything else.
[8] His own position, to begin with, must be at the centre of the
camp, as this was the safest place, and next to him must come his most
faithful followers, as their habit was. Beyond these, in a ring, lay the
cavalry and the charioteers. [9] For Cyrus held to it that these troops
also needed a safe position: their equipment could not be kept at
hand for them, and if they were to be of any use at all they needed
considerable time for arming. [10] The targeteers were placed to
left and right of the cavalry, and the bowmen in front and rear. [11]
Finally, the heavy-armed troops and those who carried the huge shields
surrounded the whole encampment like a wall; so that in case of need, if
the cavalry had to mount, the steadiest troops would stand firm in front
and let them arm in safety. [12] He insisted that the targeteers and
archers should, like the soldiers of the line, sleep at their posts, in
case of alarm at night, and be ready at any moment, while the infantry
dealt with the assailant at close quarters, to hurl darts and javelins
at them over the others' heads. [13] Moreover, all the generals had
standards on their tents; and just as an intelligent serving-man in a
city will know most of the houses, at any rate of the most important
people, so the squires of Cyrus knew the ways of the camp and the
quarters of the generals and the standards of each. Thus, if Cyrus
needed any one they had not to search and seek, but could run by
the shortest road and summon him at once. [14] Owing to this clear
arrangement, it was easy to see where good discipline was kept and where
duty was neglected. With these dispositions Cyrus felt that if an attack
should be made, by night or day, the enemy would find not so much a
camp as an ambuscade. [15] Nor was it enough, he considered, for a real
master of tactics to know how to extend his front without confusion, or
deepen his ranks, or get from column into line, or wheel round quickly
when the enemy appeared on the right or the left or in the rear: the
true tactician must also be able to break up his troops into small
bodies, whenever necessary, and place each division exactly where it
would be of the greatest use; he must know how to quicken speed when
it was essential to forestall the enemy; these and a hundred other
operations are part of his science, and Cyrus studied them all with
equal care. [16] On the march he varied the order constantly to suit the
needs of the moment, but for the camp, as a rule, he adopted the plan we
have described.
[17] And now when the march had brought them into Media, Cyrus turned
aside to visit Cyaxares. After they had met and embraced, Cyrus began by
telling Cyaxares that a palace in Babylon, and an estate, had been set
aside for him so that he might have a residence of his own whenever he
came there, and he offered him other gifts, most rich and beautiful.
[18] And Cyaxares was glad to take them from his nephew, and then
he sent for his daughter, and she came, carrying a golden crown, and
bracelets, and a necklace of wrought gold, and a most beautiful Median
robe, as splendid as could be. [19] The maiden placed the crown upon the
head of Cyrus, and as she did so Cyaxares said:
"I will give her to you, Cyrus, my own daughter, to be your wife. Your
father wedded the daughter of my father, and you are their son; and this
is the little maid whom you carried in your arms when you were with us
as a lad, and whenever she was asked whom she meant to marry, she would
always answer 'Cyrus.' And for her dowry I will give her the whole of
Media: since I have no lawful son."
[20] So he spoke, and Cyrus answered:
"Cyaxares, I can but thank you myself for all you offer me, the kinship
and the maiden and the gifts, but I must lay the matter before my father
and my mother before I accept, and then we will thank you together."
That was what Cyrus said, but none the less he gave the maiden the gifts
he thought would please her father. And when he had done so, he marched
on home to Persia.
[21] And when he reached the borders of his fatherland, he left the mass
of his troops on the frontier, and went forward alone with his friends
to the city, leading victims enough for all the Persians to sacrifice
and hold high festival. And he brought special gifts for his father and
his mother and his friends of old, and for the high officers of state,
the elders, and all the Persian Peers; and he gave every Persian man and
every Persian woman such bounties as the king confers to-day whenever he
visits Persia. [22] After this Cambyses gathered together the elders
of the land and the chief officers, who have authority in the highest
matters, and spoke as follows:
"Men of Persia, and Cyrus, my son, both of you are dear to me and must
needs be dear; I am the king of my people and the father of my son;
therefore I am bound to lay before you openly all that I believe to be
for the good of both. [23] In the past the nation has done great things
for Cyrus by giving him an army and appointing him the leader, and
Cyrus, God helping him, has made my Persians famous in all the world by
his leadership, and crowned you with glory in Asia. Of those who served
with him he has made the bravest wealthy for life, and given sustenance
and full pay to numbers. By founding the cavalry he has won the plains
for Persia. [24] If your hearts are still the same in future, all of you
will bless each other: but if you, my son, would be puffed up by your
present fortune and attempt to rule the Persians for your own advantage
as you rule the rest of the world, or if you, my people, should envy
this man's power and try to drive him from his throne, I tell you, you
will cut each other off from many precious things. [25] Therefore, that
this should never be, and only good be yours, I counsel you to offer
sacrifice together, and call the gods to witness and make a covenant.
You, Cyrus, shall vow to resist with all your strength any man who
attacks our land of Persia or tries to overthrow our laws; and you, my
people, must promise that if rebels attempt to depose Cyrus or if
his subjects revolt, you will render aid to him and to yourselves in
whatever way he wishes. [26] Now, so long as I live, the kingdom of
Persia is and continues mine, but when I die it passes to Cyrus if he
is still alive, and whenever he visits Persia it should be a holy custom
for him to offer sacrifice on your behalf, even as I do now; and when he
is abroad, it will be well for you, I think, if the member of our family
whom you count the noblest fulfils the sacred rites."
[27] Cambyses ended, and Cyrus and the officers of Persia agreed to all
he said. They made the covenant and called the gods to witness, and to
this day they keep it still, the Persians and the Great King. And when
it was done, Cyrus took his leave and came back to Media. [28] There,
with the full consent of his father and his mother, he wedded the
daughter of Cyaxares, the fame of whose beauty has lasted to this
day. And after the marriage his steeds were yoked and they set out for
Babylon.
[C.6] When he was in Babylon once more, he thought it would be well to
appoint satraps and set them over the conquered tribes. Yet he did not
wish the commandants in the citadels and the captains in charge of the
garrisons throughout the country to be under any authority but his own.
Herein he showed his foresight, realising that if any satrap became
insolent and rebellious, relying on his own wealth and the numbers at
his back, he would at once find a power to oppose him within his own
district. [2] In order to carry out this plan, Cyrus resolved to summon
a council of the leading men and explain the terms on which the
satraps who went would go. In this way, he thought, they would not feel
aggrieved, whereas, if a man found himself appointed and then learnt the
restrictions for the first time, he might well take it ill, fancying it
a sign of personal mistrust. [3] So it was that Cyrus called a council
and spoke as follows:
"Gentlemen and friends of mine, you are aware that we have garrisons and
commandants in the cities we conquered, stationed there at the time. I
left them with orders simply to guard the fortifications and not
meddle with anything else. Now I do not wish to remove them from their
commands, for they have done their duty nobly, but I propose to send
others, satraps, who will govern the inhabitants, receive the tribute,
give the garrisons their pay, and discharge all necessary dues. [4]
Further, I think it right that certain of you who live here and yet on
whom I may lay the task of travelling to these nations and working for
me among them, should possess houses there and estates, where tribute
may be brought them, and where they may find a place of their own to
lodge in."
[5] With these words he assigned houses and districts to many of
his friends among the lands he had subdued: and to this day their
descendants possess the estates, although they reside at court
themselves. [6] "Now," he added, "we must choose for the satraps who are
to go abroad persons who will not forget to send us anything of value in
their districts, so that we who are at home may share in all the wealth
of the world. For if any danger comes, it is we who must ward it off."
[7] With that he ended for the time, but later on when he came to
know what friends of his were ready and willing to go on the terms
prescribed, he selected those he thought best qualified for the work,
and sent Magabazus to Arabia, Artabatas to Cappadocia, Artacamas to
Greater Phrygia, Chrysantas to Lydia and Susia, Adousius, whom the
Carians had asked for themselves, to Caria, and Pharnouchus to Aeolia
and Phrygia by the Hellespont.
[8] But to Cilicia, Cyprus, and Paphlagonia, Cyrus sent no satraps,
because they had shown their willingness to march against Babylon;
tribute, however, was imposed on them as on the others. [9] In
accordance with the rules then laid down by Cyrus, the citadel garrisons
and the captains-of-the-guard are to this day appointed directly by
the king, and have their names on the royal list. [10] All satraps whom
Cyprus sent out were ordered to do as they saw him doing: each was to
raise a body of cavalry and a chariot-force from the Persians and the
allies who went out with him; and all who received grants of land and
official residences were to present themselves at the palace-gates,
study temperance and self-control, and hold themselves in readiness
for the service of their satrap. Their boys were to be educated at the
gates, as with Cyrus, and the satrap was to lead his nobles out to hunt,
and train himself and his followers in the art of war. [11] "Whichever
of you," Cyrus added, "can show the greatest number of chariots in
proportion to his power, and the largest and finest body of cavalry, I
will honour him as my best ally and most faithful fellow-guardian of
the Persian empire. Let the best men always have the preference at your
courts as they have at mine, give them seats of honour as I do, and let
your table be spread, as mine is, not only for your own household, but
for your friends also, and for the honour of him who may accomplish any
noble deed. [12] You must lay out parks and breed game, and never touch
food until you have toiled for it, nor give your horses fodder until
they have been exercised. I am but a single man, with only human
strength and human virtue, and I could not by myself preserve the good
things that are yours: I must have good comrades to help me in goodness,
and only thus can I be your defender; and you likewise, if you are to
help me, must be good yourselves and have good men at your side. [13]
Remember that I have not spoken unto you as unto slaves: what I say you
ought to do I strive to do myself. And even as I bid you follow me, so I
would have you teach those in authority under you to follow you."
[14] Such were the principles then laid down by Cyrus, and to this day
all the royal garrisons are appointed in the same manner, the gates of
all the governors are thronged in the same way, the houses, great
and small, are managed in the same fashion, everywhere the most
distinguished guests are given seats of honour, every province is
visited on the same system, and everywhere the threads of numberless
affairs are gathered into the hands of a few superiors. [15] Having
given these instructions, Cyrus assigned a body of troops to each of his
satraps, and sent them out to their provinces, bidding them to be ready
for a campaign in the new year and for a review of their soldiers, their
weapons, their horses, and their chariots. [16] And here I may notice
another custom, also instituted by Cyrus, it is said, and still in force
to-day: every year a progress of inspection is made by an officer at the
head of an army, to help any satrap who may require aid, or bring the
insolent to their senses; and, if there has been negligence in the
delivery of tribute, or the protection of the inhabitants, or the
cultivation of the soil, or indeed any omission of duty whatsoever, the
officer is there to put the matter right, or if he cannot do so himself,
to report it to the king, who decides what is to be done about the
offender. The announcements so often made, such as "the king's son is
coming down," or "the king's brother," or "the king's eye," refer to
these inspectors, but sometimes no one appears, for at any moment
the officer may be turned back at the king's command. [17] We hear of
another arrangement, devised to meet the huge size of the empire and
enable the king to learn with great celerity the state of affairs at any
distance. Cyrus first ascertained how far a horse could travel in
one day without being over-ridden, and then he had a series of
posting-stations built, one day's ride apart, with relays of horses, and
grooms to take care of them, and a proper man in charge of each station
to receive the despatches and hand them on, take over the jaded horses
and men, and furnish fresh ones. [18] Sometimes, we are told, this
post does not even halt at night: the night-messenger relieves the
day-messenger and rides on. Some say that, when this is done, the post
travels more quickly than the crane can fly, and, whether that is true
or not, there is no doubt it is the quickest way in which a human being
can travel on land. To learn of events so rapidly and be able to deal
with them at once is of course a great advantage.
[19] After a year had passed, Cyrus collected all his troops at Babylon,
amounting, it is said, to one hundred and twenty thousand horse, two
thousand scythe-bearing chariots, and six hundred thousand foot. [20]
Then, seeing that all was got together, he set out for that campaign of
his, on which, the story says, he subdued the nations from the borders
of Syria as far as the Red Sea. After that there followed, we are told,
the expedition against Egypt and its conquest. [21] From that time
forward his empire was bounded on the east by the Red Sea, on the north
by the Euxine, on the west by Cyprus and Egypt, and towards the south
by Ethiopia. Of these outlying districts, some were scarcely habitable,
owing to heat or cold, drought or excessive rain. [22] But Cyrus himself
always lived at the centre of his dominions, seven months in Babylon
during the winter season, where the land is warm and sunny, three months
at Susa in the spring, and during the height of summer in Ecbatana,
so that for him it was springtime all the year. [23] Towards him the
disposition of all men was such that every nation felt they had failed
unless they could send Cyrus the treasures of their land, plants,
or animals, or works of art. And every city felt the same, and every
private person counted himself on the road to riches if he could do
Cyrus some special service, for Cyrus took only such things as they had
in abundance, and gave them in return what he saw they lacked.
[C.7] Thus the years passed on, and Cyrus was now in a ripe old age, and
he journeyed to Persia for the seventh time in his reign. His father and
mother were long since dead in the course of nature, and Cyrus offered
sacrifice according to the law, and led the sacred dance of his Persians
after the manner of his forefathers, and gave gifts to every man
according to his wont.
[2] But one night, as he lay asleep in the royal palace, he dreamt a
dream. It seemed to him that some one met him, greater than a man, and
said to him, "Set your house in order, Cyrus: the time has come, and you
are going to the gods."
With that Cyrus awoke out of sleep, and he all but seemed to know that
the end of his life was at hand. [3] Straightway he took victims and
offered sacrifice to Zeus, the god of his fathers, and to the Sun, and
all the other gods, on the high places where the Persians sacrifice, and
then he made this prayer:
"Zeus, god of my fathers, and thou, O Sun, and all ye gods, accept this
sacrifice, my offering for many a noble enterprise, and suffer me to
thank you for the grace ye have shown me, telling me all my life, by
victims and by signs from heaven, by birds and by the voices of men,
what things I ought to do and what I ought to refrain from doing. Deep
is my thankfulness that I was able to recognise your care, and never
lifted up my heart too high even in my prosperity. I beseech you now to
bless my children also, and my wife, and my friends, and my fatherland;
and for myself, may my death be as my life has been."
[4] Then Cyrus went home again and lay down on his bed, for he longed
to rest. And when the hour was come, his attendants came to him and bade
him take his bath. But he said he would rather rest. And others came
afterwards, at the usual time, to set the meal before him; but he could
not bring himself to take food: he seemed only to thirst, and drank
readily. [5] It was the same the second day, and the third, and then
he called his sons to his side--it chanced they had followed him to
Persia--and he summoned his friends also and the chief magistrates of
the land, and when they were all met, he began:
[6] "My sons, and friends of mine, the end of my life is at hand: I know
it by many signs. And when I am dead, you must show by word and deed
that you think of me as happy. When I was a child, I had all the joys
and triumphs of a child, and I reaped the treasures of youth as I grew
up, and all the glories of a man when I came to man'e estate. And as the
years passed, I seemed to find my powers grow with them, so that I never
felt my old age weaker than my youth, nor can I think of anything I
attempted or desired wherein I failed. [7] Moreover, I have seen my
friends made happy by my means, and my enemies crushed beneath my hand.
This my fatherland, which was once of no account in Asia, I leave at
the height of power, and of all that I won I think I have lost nothing.
Throughout my whole life I have fared as I prayed to fare, and the dread
that was ever with me lest in days to come I might see or hear or suffer
evil, this dread would never let me think too highly of myself, or
rejoice as a fool rejoices. [8] And if I die now, I leave my sons
behind me, the sons the gods have given me; and I leave my fatherland
in happiness, and my friends. Surely I may hope that men will count me
blessed and cherish my memory. [9] And now I must leave instructions
about my kingdom, that there may be no dispute among you after my death.
Sons of mine, I love you both alike, but I choose the elder-born, the
one whose experience of life is the greater, to be the leader in
council and the guide in action. [10] Thus was I trained myself, in the
fatherland that is yours and mine, to yield to my elders, my brothers or
my fellow-citizens, in the street, or in the place of meeting, or in the
assembly for debate. And thus have I trained both of you, to honour your
elders and be honoured by those who are younger than yourselves. These
are the principles that I leave with you, sanctioned by time, ingrained
in our customs, embodied in our laws. [11] The sovereignty is yours,
Cambyses; the gods have given it to you, and I also, as far as in me
lies; and to you, Tanaoxares, I give the satrapy over the Medes and the
Armenians and the Cadousians, these three; and though I leave your elder
brother a larger empire and the name of king, your inheritance will
bring you, I believe, more perfect happiness than his. [12] I ask myself
what human joy will be lacking to you: all things which gladden the
hearts of men will be yours--but the craving for what is out of reach,
the load of cares, the restless passion to rival my achievements, the
plots and counterplots, they will follow him who wears the crown,
and they are things, be well assured, that leave little leisure for
happiness. [13] And you, Cambyses, you know of yourself, without words
from me, that your kingdom is not guarded by this golden sceptre, but
by faithful friends; their loyalty is your true staff, a sceptre which
shall not fail. But never think that loyal hearts grow up by nature as
the grass grows in the field: if that were so, the same men would be
loyal to all alike, even as all natural objects are the same to all
mankind. No, every leader must win his own followers for himself, and
the way to win them is not by violence but by loving-kindness. [14] And
if you would seek for friends to stand by you and guard your throne, who
so fit to be the first of them as he who is sprung from the self-same
loins? Our fellow-citizens are nearer to us than foreigners, and our
mess-mates dearer than strangers, and what of those who are sprung from
the same seed, suckled at the same breast, reared in the same home,
loved by the same parents, the same mother, the same father? [15] What
the gods have given to be the seal of brotherhood do not make of none
effect yourselves. But build upon it: make it the foundation for other
loving deeds, and thus the love between you shall never be overcome. The
man who takes thought for his brother cares for his own self. For who
but a brother can win glory from a brother's greatness? Who can be
honoured as a brother can through a brother's power? Or who so safe from
injury as the brother of the great? [16] Let no one, Tanaoxares, be more
eager than yourself to obey your brother and support him: to no one can
his triumph or his danger come so near. Ask yourself from whom you could
win a richer reward for any kindness. Who could give you stouter help
in return for your own support? And where is coldness so ugly as between
brothers? Or where is reverence so beautiful? And remember, Cambyses,
only the brother who holds pre-eminence in a brother's heart can be safe
from the jealousy of the world. [17] I implore you both, my sons, by the
gods of our fathers, hold each other in honour, if you care at all to do
me pleasure: and none of you can say you know that I shall cease to be
when I cease to live this life of ours. With your bodily eyes you have
never seen my soul, and yet you have discerned its presence through its
working. [18] And have you never marked the terrors which the spirits
of those who have suffered wrong can send into the hearts of their
murderers, and the avenging furies they let loose upon the wicked?
Think you the honours of the dead would still abide, if the souls of the
departed were altogether powerless? [19] Never yet, my sons, could I
be persuaded that the soul only lives so long as she dwells within this
mortal body, and falls dead so soon as she is quit of that. Nay, I
see for myself that it is the soul which lends life to it, while she
inhabits there. [20] I cannot believe that she must lose all sense on
her separation from the senseless body, but rather that she will reach
her highest wisdom when she is set free, pure and untrammelled at last.
And when this body crumbles in dissolution, we see the several parts
thereof return to their kindred elements, but we do not see the soul,
whether she stays or whether she departs. [21] Consider," he went on,
"how these two resemble one another, Death and his twin-brother Sleep,
and it is in sleep that the soul of a man shows her nature most divine,
and is able to catch a glimpse of what is about to be, for it is then,
perhaps, that she is nearest to her freedom. [22] Therefore, if these
things are as I believe, and the spirit leaves the body behind and is
set free, reverence my soul, O sons of mine, and do as I desire. And
even if it be not so, if the spirit must stay with the body and perish,
yet the everlasting gods abide, who behold all things, with whom is
all power, who uphold the order of this universe, unmarred, unaging,
unerring, unfathomable in beauty and in splendour. Fear them, my sons,
and never yield to sin or wickedness, in thought or word or deed. [23]
And after the gods, I would have you reverence the whole race of man,
as it renews itself for ever; for the gods have not hidden you in the
darkness, but your deeds will be manifest in the eyes of all mankind,
and if they be righteous deeds and pure from iniquity, they will blazon
forth your power: but if you meditate evil against each other, you will
forfeit the confidence of every man. For no man can trust you, even
though he should desire it, if he sees you wrong him whom above all
you are bound to love. [24] Therefore, if my words are strong enough to
teach you your duty to one another, it is well. But, if not, let history
teach you, and there is no better teacher. For the most part, parents
have shown kindness to their children and brothers to their brothers,
but it has been otherwise with some. Look, then, and see which conduct
has brought success, choose to follow that, and your choice will be
wise. [25] And now maybe I have said enough of this. As for my body,
when I am dead, I would not have you lay it up in gold or silver or any
coffin whatsoever, but give it back to the earth with all speed. What
could be more blessed than to lie in the lap of Earth, the mother of all
things beautiful, the nurse of all things good? I have been a lover of
men all my life, and methinks I would fain become a part of that which
does good to man. [26] And now," he added, "now it seems to me that my
life begins to ebb; I feel my spirit slipping away from those parts she
leaves the first. If you would take my hand once more, or look into my
eyes while life is there, draw near me now; but when I have covered my
face, let no man look on me again, not even you, my sons. [27] But you
shall bid the Persians come, and all our allies, to my sepulchre; and
you shall rejoice with me and congratulate me that I am safe at last,
free from suffering or sorrow, whether I am with God or whether I have
ceased to be. Give all who come the entertainment that is fitting in
honour of a man whose life on earth was happy, and so send them away.
[28] Remember my last saying: show kindness to your friends, and then
shall you have it in your power to chastise your enemies. Good-bye, my
dear sons, bid your mother good-bye for me. And all my friends, who are
here or far away, good-bye."
And with these words he gave his hand to them, and then he covered his
face and died.
EPILOGUE
[C.8] Of all the powers in Asia, the kingdom of Cyrus showed itself to
be the greatest and most glorious. On the east it was bounded by the Red
Sea, on the north by the Euxine, on the west by Cyprus and Egypt, and
on the south by Ethiopia. And yet the whole of this enormous empire was
governed by the mind and will of a single man, Cyrus: his subjects he
cared for and cherished as a father might care for his children, and
they who came beneath his rule reverenced him like a father.
[2] But no sooner was he dead than his sons were at strife, cities and
nations revolted, and all things began to decay. I can show that what I
say is true, and first I will speak of their impiety. In the early days,
I am aware, the king and those beneath him never failed to keep the
oaths they had sworn and fulfil the promises they had given, even to the
worst of criminals. [3] In fact, if such had not been their character
and such their reputation, none of the Hellenic generals who marched
up with the younger Cyrus could have felt the confidence they did: they
would not have trusted a Persian any more than one trusts them to-day,
now that their perfidy is known. As it was, they relied on their old
reputation and put themselves in their power, and many were taken up to
the king and there beheaded. And many of the Asiatics who served in the
same war perished as they did, deluded by one promise or another.
[4] In other ways also the Persians have degenerated. Noble achievement
in the old days was the avenue to fame: the man was honoured who risked
his life for the king, or brought a city or nation beneath his sway. But
now, if some Mithridates has betrayed his father Ariobarzanes, or some
Reomithres has left his wife and children and the sons of his friend as
hostages at the court of Egypt, and then has broken the most solemn of
all pledges--it is they and their like who are loaded with the highest
honours, if only they are thought to have gained some advantage for the
king. [5] With such examples before them, all the Asiatics have turned
to injustice and impiety. For what the leaders are, that, as a rule,
will the men below them be. Thus has lawlessness increased and grown
among them. [6] And injustice has grown, and thieving. Not only
criminals, but men who are absolutely innocent are arrested and forced
to pay fines for no reason whatsoever: to be known to have wealth is
more dangerous than guilt, so that the rich do not care to have any
dealings with the powerful, and dare not even risk appearing at the
muster of the royal troops. [7] Therefore, when any man makes war on
Persia, whoever he may be, he can roam up and down the country to his
heart's content without striking a blow, because they have forgotten the
gods and are unjust to their fellow-men. In every way their hearts and
minds are lower than in days gone by.
[8] Nor do they care for their bodies as they did of old. It was always
their custom neither to spit nor blow the nose, only it is clear this
was instituted not from concern for the humours of the body, but in
order to strengthen themselves by toil and sweat. But nowadays, though
this habit is still in vogue, to harden the body by exercise has quite
gone out of fashion. [9] Again, from the first it was their rule only to
take a single meal in the day, which left them free to give their time
to business and exercise. The single meal is still the rule, but it
commences at the earliest hour ever chosen for breakfast, and the eating
and drinking goes on till the last moment which the latest reveller
would choose for bed. [10] It was always forbidden to bring chamber-pots
into the banquet-hall, but the reason lay in their belief that the
right way to keep body and brain from weakness was to avoid drinking
in excess. But to-day, though as in the old time no such vessels may be
carried in, they drink so deep that they themselves are carried out, too
weak to stand on their own legs. [11] It was a national custom from the
first not to eat and drink on the march nor be seen satisfying the wants
of nature, but nowadays, though they still abstain, they make each march
so short that no man need wonder at their abstinence.
[12] In the old time they went out to hunt so often that the chase gave
enough exercise and training for man and horse alike. But when the day
came that Artaxerxes and all his court were the worse for wine, the old
custom of the king leading the hunt in person began to pass away. And if
any eager spirits hunted with their own followers it was easy to see the
jealousy, and even the hatred, aroused by such superiority.
[13] It is still the habit to bring up the boys at the palace-gates, but
fine horsemanship has disappeared, for there is no place where the lads
can win applause by their skill. The old belief that the children of
Persia would learn justice by hearing the judges decide the cases has
been turned upside down: the children have only to use their eyes and
they see that the verdict goes to the man with the longest purse. [14]
Children in former times were taught the properties of plants in order
to use the wholesome and avoid the harmful; but now they seem to learn
it for the mere sake of doing harm: at any rate, there is no country
where deaths from poison are so common. [15] And the Persian to-day is
far more luxurious than he was in the time of Cyrus. Then they still
clung to the Persian style of education and the Persian self-restraint,
merely adopting the Median dress and a certain grace of life. But now
the old Persian hardihood may perish for all they care, if only they
preserve the softness of the Mede. [16] I might give instances of their
luxury. They are not content with soft sheets and rugs for their beds,
they must have carpets laid under the bed-posts to prevent any jarring
from the floor. They have given up none of the cooked dishes invented
in former days; on the contrary, they are always devising new ones, and
condiments to boot: in fact, they keep men for the very purpose. [17] In
the winter it is not enough to have the body covered, and the head and
the feet, they must have warm sleeves as well and gloves for the hands:
and in the summer they are not content with the shade from the trees or
the rocks, they must have servants standing beside them with artificial
screens. [18] To have an endless array of cups and goblets is their
special pride: and if these are come by unjustly, and all the world
knows it, why, there is nothing to blush for in that: injustice has
grown too common among them, and ill-gotten gain. [19] Formerly no
Persian was ever to be seen on foot, but the sole object of the custom
was to make them perfect horsemen. Now they lay more rugs on their
horses' backs than on their own beds; it is not a firm seat they care
for, but a soft saddle.
[20] As soldiers we may imagine how they have sunk below the ancient
standard; in past times it was a national institution that the
land-owner should furnish troopers from his own estate, and men were
bound to go on active service, while the garrison troops in the country
received regular pay; but now the Persian grandees have manufactured
a new type of cavalry, who earn their pay as butlers and cooks and
confectioners and cupbearers and bathmen and flunkeys to serve at table
or remove the dishes, and serving-men to put their lords to bed and help
them to rise, and perfumers to anoint them and rub them and make them
beautiful. [21] In numbers they make a very splendid show, but they are
no use for fighting; as may be seen by what actually takes place: an
enemy can move about their country more freely than the inhabitants
themselves. [22] It will be remembered that Cyrus put a stop to the
old style of fighting at long range, and by arming men and horses with
breastplates and giving each trooper a short spear he taught them to
fight at close quarters. But nowadays they will fight in neither one
style nor the other. [23] The infantry still carry the large shields,
the battle-axes, and the swords, as if they meant to do battle as they
did in Cyrus' day. [24] But they will never close with the enemy. Nor do
they use the scythe-bearing chariots as Cyrus intended. By the
honours he gave he raised the dignity and improved the quality of his
charioteers till he had a body of men who would charge right into the
enemy's ranks; but the generals of to-day, though they do not even know
the charioteers by sight, flatter themselves that untrained men will
serve their purpose quite as well as trained. [25] So the charioteers
will dash off, but before they reach the enemy half the men have fallen
from their boxes, and the others will jump out of their own accord,
and the teams, left without their drivers, will do more harm to their
friends than to their foes. [26] And since in their hearts the Persians
of to-day are well aware what their fighting condition really is, they
always give up the struggle, and now none of them will take the field
at all without Hellenes to help them, whether they are fighting among
themselves or whether Hellenes are in arms against them: even then it
is a settled thing that they must have the aid of other Hellenes to face
them.
[27] I venture to think I have shown the truth of the statement that I
made. I asserted that the Persians of to-day and their allies are less
religious than they were of old, less dutiful to their kindred, less
just and righteous towards other men, and less valiant in war. And if
any man doubts me, let him examine their actions for himself, and he
will find full confirmation of all I say.
NOTES
C1. Xenophon puts into the mouth of Chrysantas his favourite theory of
monarchism, the relationship strongly cemented by obedience and trust
between subjects and king.
C1.4, med. On _willing_ service. This again is one of the best
utterances in all Xenophon. It has a deep spiritual import.
C1.4, fin. He is thinking of Athens, perhaps. It is a choice: obey the
ruler or knock under to foreign foes.
C1.8. Surely a remark of the author. It is an old inveterate thought of
his: "the Master's eye." I feel the _old_ man at times.
C1.9-10. This side of the Persian state-machine strongly impressed the
mind and imagination of Xenophon. Hence he works it into the treatise
on economy as well as here. In fact his expansion of the Socratic
reflections into the _Economist_ has to do, I believe, with these
reflections on state economy.
C1.13. Hellenic aristocratic theory of existence. Leisure for the grand
duties which devolve on the lords of mankind. It doesn't seem to
strike Xenophon that this rigid system of self-absorption in the higher
selfhood of the social system might be destructive of individual life.
Of course he would say, "No, it enlarges the individual life."
C1.17-20. Seems to me to show Xenophon struggling with the hard parts
of the later Persian system. The theory of Persian feudalism is too
high-strung for these grand satraps, rulers of provinces as big as
ordinary kingdoms. It tends to snap, and from the beginning did. The
archic man has no charm to compel his followers to archic virtue. It is
a negative {episteme} after all. Does Xenophon realise this, or is hgd.
wrong?
C1.21. Cf. headmasters with preposters in a public school, based on the
same system of high aims and duties corresponding to rights.
C1.23, init. Cf. Louis Napoleon in Browning's poem [_Prince
Hohensteil-Schwangau_].
C1.23, med. The Magians, the Persian order of priests. Yet we have heard
of them throughout.
C1.27. A very true saying and very nice the feeling it gives us towards
Xenophon. We think of him with his wife and his little sons and his
friends and their friends.
C1.28. How true of women!
C1.33. A reduplication of the description in Bk. I., and also a
summing-up of Xenophon's own earthly paradise--quite Tennysonian.
C1.37. An important point or principle in Xenophon's political
theory--indeed the key and tone of it: no one has a right to command
except by virtue of personal superiority.
C1.40 foll. "How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the
morning!" The section, if, as I think it is, by Xenophon, throws
light on the nature and composition of the book. The author isn't so
disengaged from "history" that he can set aside obviously integral
parts of the Persian system traceable to Cyrus, or at any rate probably
original, and their false-seeming and bamboozling mode of keeping up
dignity has to be taken account of. It has its analogy in the admission
of thaumaturgy on the part of religious teachers, and no doubt a good
deal can be said for it. The archic man in low spirits, if he ever is
so, has some need of bamboozling himself. Titles do give some moral
support even nowadays to certain kinds of minds.
C1.46-48. The archic man's dealings by those of his subjects who are apt
to rule, the men of high thoughts and ambitions, with whom he must come
into constant personal contact. With them the spiritual dominance alone
will do. They shall be made to love him rather than themselves.
(The only thing just here that jars is a sort of Machiavellian
self-consciousness, resented in the archic man).
C1.46. A cumbrous disjointed sentence, but the thought of it is clear
enough. Even Xenophon's style breaks down when he tries to say in
a breath more than he naturally can. Is it a sign of senility, or
half-thought-out ideas, or what?
C2.2, fin. Does Xenophon feel the bathos of this, or is hdg. wrong and
there is no bathos? It may be said that the sacramental and spiritual
side is not in abeyance. Xenophon has to account for the "common board"
and he has the Spartan Lycurgan "common board" to encourage him, so that
imaginatively he provides this royal being with a sumptuous table at
which thousands will share alike.
C2.3. How far was this a custom among Hellenes? It reveals a curious
state of society, real or imaginary; but I suppose that at Rome in
imperial days (cf. _panem et circenses_) the theory of meat and drink
largesses being the best would hold.
C2.4, fin. The last remark is so silly (?) I am almost disposed to
follow Lincke and admit interpolation. Yet on the whole I think it is
the voice of the old man explaining in his Vicar-of-Wakefield style,
to his admiring auditors, wife, children, and grandsons, I fancy, and
slaves, the _raison d'être_ of Persian dinner-largesse customs.
C2.6. Qy.: What was Xenophon's manner of composing? The style here
is loose, like that of a man talking. Perhaps he lectured and the
amanuensis took down what he said.
C2.8. Ineptitudes. One does somewhat sniff an editor here, I think, but
I am not sure. There's a similar touch of ineptitude (senility, perhaps)
in the _Memorabilia_, _ad fin_. On the other hand I can imagine Xenophon
purring over this side of Orientalism quite naturally.
C2.12. This slipshod style, how accounted for? The most puzzling thing
of all is the sort of mental confusion between Cyrus and the king in
general.
C2.15-16. Thoroughly Xenophontine and Ruskinian and eternal.
C2.24. Here is the germ of benefit societies and clubs and insurances
and hospitals. Xenophon probably learns it all from Ctesias, and others
of the sort. Cyrus provides doctors and instruments and medicines and
diet, in fact, all the requisites of a hospital, in his palace. Nor does
he forget to be grateful to the doctors who cured the sick. [Ctesias,
the Greek physician to the Persian king. See _Anabasis_, I. viii. Works,
Vol. I. p. 108.]
C2.26 ff. Xenophon's Machiavellianism. Does it work?
C2.17-28. It seems to me that all this is too elaborate for an
interpolator: it smacks of Xenophon in his arm-chair, theorising and
half-dreaming over his political philosophy.
C3.2. Prototype, a procession to Eleusis or elsewhere: the Panathenaic,
possibly. Xenophon's sumptuous taste and love of bright colours.
C3.3, fin., C3.4. What a curious prototypic sound! Truly this is the
very _modus_ of the evangelist's type of sentence. His narrative must
run in this mould.
C3.4, fin. This is the old Cyrus. It comes in touchingly here, this
refrain of the old song, now an echo of the old life.
C3.14. Xenophon delights somewhat in this sort of scene. It is a
turning-point, a veritable moral peripety, though the decisive step was
taken long ago. What is Xenophon's intention with regard to it? Has he
any _parti pris_, for or against? Does he wish us to draw conclusions?
Or does it correspond to a moral meeting of the waters in his own mind?
Here love of Spartan simplicity, and there of splendour and regality
and monarchism? He does not give a hint that the sapping of the system
begins here, when the archic man ceases to depend on his own spiritual
archic qualities and begins to eke out his dignity by artificial means
and external shows of reverence.
C3.20. Is this worthy of the archic man? It is a method, no doubt,
of {arkhe}, but has it any spiritual "last" in it? The incident of
Daïpharnes somewhat diverts our attention from the justice of the system
in reference to the suitors. On the whole, I think Xenophon can't get
further. He is blinded and befogged by two things: (1) his (i.e. their)
aristocratism, and again (2) his satisfaction in splendour and get-up,
provided it is attached to moral greatness. We are in the same maze, I
fancy. Jesus was not, nor is Walt Whitman.
C3.23. Cyrus is made to behave rather like the autocratic father of a
goody story-book.
C3.25. Realistic and vivid detailing: our curiosity is satisfied. "Who
has won?" we ask. "Oh, so-and-so, Smith." Well, it's something to know
that Smith has won. Xenophon, the artist, 'cutely introduces the Sakian
to us. One scene takes up another, just as in real life. Quite soon
we know a great deal more about this young man, a mere Sakian private
soldier, who wins the race so easily on his splendid horse. Cyrus
and good fortune introduce him to the very man he is suited to: viz.
Pheraulas.
C3.37. Pheraulas' boyhood has already been sketched by himself (II.
C3.7), the active sturdy little youngster, snatching at a knife, and
hacking away _con amore_. We know him well: Xenophon's modernism comes
out in these things. Here we have the old father, a heart of oak, like
the old Acharnian in Aristophanes. One of the prettiest morsels in all
Xenophon. Xenophon's own father, is he there?
C3.47. The desire for "leisure" is as strong in Xenophon as in hgd. or
S. T. I., I think. [S. T. Irwin, also a master at Clifton.]
C4.1. Why is the Hyrcanian never named? Is it conceivable that Xenophon
shrinks from using a proper name except when he has some feeling for the
sound of the language? (Sic. Sakians, Cadousians, Indians, etc.)
C4.4 The "mark" system again which Xenophon believes in, but hgd. not.
Shows how he tried to foster competitiveness. It's after all a belief
in the central sun, a species of monarch-worship, logical and consistent
enough.
C4.8. Xenophon reveals himself and the Hellenic feeling with regard to
war and its use. The _pax Romana_ is anticipated in their minds.
C4.9. Hystaspas is rather like the sons of Zebedee or the elder brother
of the Prodigal.
C4.12, fin. Looks rather like a Greek joke. But what is the joke?
C4.13-23. Broad type of joke, but not unhealthy or prurient. Prototype
probably Agesilaus and the younger Cyrus at the supper-table, with just
this touch of coarseness.
C4.32-36. This is = to the Comtist theory of the duties of capitalists,
and is one of the noblest disquisitions in all Xenophon, {os g' emoi
dokei}. Cyrus' theory is based on fraternal feeling among the _elite_ of
the world, and that is the sole difference, a large one doubtless,
and measures the gap between Xenophon and A. C. and our advance in
Democracy.
C5.17. How far is this historical, i.e. semi-historical? I can't help
supposing that the commoner notion of a conquest of Media by Persia was
current and familiar to Xenophon apart from any other account, which for
his present purpose he chose to go upon and possibly believed in.
C5.18-20. Will Cyrus take her to wife, his old playmate? All this shows
once more Xenophon's love of children.
C5.23-25. The Persian Magna Charta, parallel to that between the Spartan
king and the ephorate.
C6.1-3. (a) Satraps; to be counterpoised by (b) military governors in
the citadels, and (c) visitors living at court, but possessed of lands
in the provinces. The object is, no doubt, to create a common
interest between the nobles and the king which will keep the satrap in
counterpoise.
C6.11. The Oriental feeling again.
C6.12, fin. One of the nicest (monarchical) remarks ever uttered.
C6.13. Marked Greek Testament parallel S. Joan. 13, 13. Surely the
evangelist had read this at school: I mean, the Greek scribe who
Hellenised the evangel.
C6.23. Free trade or favoured-nation principle and commercial treaty.
C7.10. Prototype: Socrates and his sons. Perhaps also Xenophon and his.
One seems to hear his own voice addressing Gryllus.
C7.14. A very noble passage.
C7.27. That's also nice: "Summon the Persians to rejoice with me at my
joyous release;" a refined form of funeral festival--"nothing is here
for tears"--nor have we, perhaps, arrived beyond it.
C7.28. His last remark is Xenophon-Hellenic, but less edifying;
fortunately it is only the penultimate, for there is the final
{khairete} [good-bye] and message to his wife. Why was she not present?
I suppose she was at home in Babylon.
[C8. It has been doubted whether C8 is by Xenophon at all. C8.3, with
its reference to the _Anabasis_, certainly looks as though it might have
been written after his death. Some scholars have also thought the style
unlike Xenophon's, but it is clear from his marginal notes that Mr.
Dakyns did not lean towards this view. To stress the degeneracy of the
Persians is, no doubt, to make a curious comment on the institutions of
"the born ruler," but on the other hand the preceding chapter (C7) is
full of grave warnings, and, throughout, Xenophon has been at pains to
insist that everything depends on the continuous and united effort of
the ruling classes towards virtue and self-control. Again, as Mr. Dakyns
pointed out (in his _Sketch of Xenophon's Life_, Works, Vol. I. p.
cxxxvii.), the epilogue bears a marked analogy to the account of Spartan
degeneracy in c. xiv. of the _Laconian Polity_ (see Vol. II. p. 322), a
chapter he took to be genuine. On the whole, therefore, we may conclude
that he would have considered this epilogue to be genuine also.--F.M.S.]