sked Cyrus if he believed those stories to be true.

"Why?" asked Cyrus; "what do _you_ think of them?"

"_I_ think," said Aglaitadas, "that these officers invented them to
make the company laugh. It is evident that they were not telling the
truth, since they related the stories in such a vain and arrogant
way."

"Arrogant!" said Cyrus; "you ought not to call them arrogant; for,
even if they invented their narrations, it was not to gain any selfish
ends of their own, but only to amuse us and promote our enjoyment.
Such persons should be called polite and agreeable rather than
arrogant."

"If, Aglaitadas," said one of the officers who had related the
anecdotes, "we had told you melancholy stories to make you gloomy and
wretched, you might have been justly displeased; but you certainly
ought not to complain of us for making you merry."

"Yes," said Aglaitadas, "I think I may. To make a man laugh is a very
insignificant and useless thing. It is far better to make him weep.
Such thoughts and such conversation as makes us serious, thoughtful,
and sad, and even moves us to tears, are the most salutary and the
best."

"Well," replied the officer, "if you will take my advice, you will
lay out all your powers of inspiring gloom, and melancholy, and of
bringing tears, upon our enemies, and bestow the mirth and laughter
upon us. There must be a prodigious deal of laughter in you, for none
ever comes out. You neither use nor expend it yourself, nor do you
afford it to your friends."

"Then," said Aglaitadas, "why do you attempt to draw it from me?"

"It is preposterous!" said another of the company; "for one could more
easily strike fire out of Aglaitadas than get a laugh from him!"

Aglaitadas could not help smiling at this comparison; upon which
Cyrus, with an air of counterfeited gravity, reproved the person who
had spoken, saying that he had corrupted the most sober man in the
company by making him smile, and that to disturb such gravity as that
of Aglaitadas was carrying the spirit of mirth and merriment
altogether too far.

* * * * *

These specimens will suffice. They serve to give a more distinct idea
of the Cyropaedia of Xenophon than any general description could
afford. The book is a drama, of which the principal elements are such
narratives as the story of Panthea, and such conversations as those
contained in this chapter, intermingled with long discussions on the
principles