Life: He was born in Athens about 431 B.C. and was a student of Socrates. He was hired as a mercenary by Cyrus, the younger brother of the Persian king, Artaxerxes, against whom he rebelled. When the rebellion failed at the battle of Cunaxa, Xenophon led the famous retreat of the Ten Thousand, all the Greek mercenaries who were trapped in Mesopotamia. On his return to Greece, he worked as a mercenary for the Spartans in their wars in Asia Minor and in Greece against the Athenians. The Spartans rewarded him with a country estate where he enjoyed the life of the landed gentry. Xenophon lost his estate in a war and settled in Corinth for the remainder of his life. He died sometime after 355 B.C. over 80 years old. Writings on the Persians: His most famous work is Anabasis, the story of the Ten Thousand. It contains a lot of information about Cyrus the Younger, Artaxerxes and the Persian army. He also wrote this book Cyropaedia, about the education and life of Cyrus.

[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.]

THE END

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