Media, and
in its romantic and incredible details it is a specimen of the whole
narrative which this author has given of his hero's life. It is not,
at the present day, supposed that these, and the many similar stories
with which Xenophon's books are filled, are true history. It is not
even thought that Xenophon really intended to offer his narrative as
history, but rather as an historical romance--a fiction founded on
fact, written to amuse the warriors of his times, and to serve as a
vehicle for inculcating such principles of philosophy, of morals, and
of military science as seemed to him worthy of the attention of his
countrymen. The story has no air of reality about it from beginning to
end, but only a sort of poetical fitness of one part to another, much
more like the contrived coincidences of a romance writer than like the
real events and transactions of actual life. A very large portion of
the work consists of long discourses on military, moral, and often
metaphysical philosophy, made by generals in council, or commanders in
conversation with each other when going into battle. The occurrences
and incidents out of which these conversations arise always take place
just as they are wanted and arrange themselves in a manner to produce
the highest dramatic effect; like the stag, the broken ground, and
the wild boar in Cyrus's hunting, which came, one after another, to
furnish the hero with poetical occasions for displaying his juvenile
bravery, and to produce the most picturesque and poetical grouping of
incidents and events. Xenophon too, like other writers of romances,
makes his hero a model of military virtue and magnanimity, according
to the ideas of the times. He displays superhuman sagacity in
circumventing his foes, he performs prodigies of valor, he forms the
most sentimental attachments, and receives with a romantic confidence
the adhesions of men who come over to his side from the enemy, and
who, being traitors to old friends, would seem to be only worthy of
suspicion and distrust in being received by new ones. Every thing,
however, results well; all whom he confides in prove worthy; all whom
he distrusts prove base. All his friends are generous and noble, and
all his enemies treacherous and cruel. Every prediction which he makes
is verified, and all his enterprises succeed; or if, in any respect,
there occurs a partial failure, the incident is always of such a
character as to heighten the impression which is