in these exercises, Cyrus would
challenge those whom he knew to be superior to himself, and allow them
to enjoy the pleasure of victory, while he was satisfied, himself,
with the superior stimulus to exertion which he derived from coming
thus into comparison with attainments higher than his own. He pressed
forward boldly and ardently, undertaking every thing which promised
to be, by any possibility, within his power; and, far from being
disconcerted and discouraged at his mistakes and failures, he always
joined merrily in the laugh which they occasioned, and renewed his
attempts with as much ardor and alacrity as before. Thus he made great
and rapid progress, and learned first to equal and then to surpass one
after another of his companions, and all without exciting any jealousy
or envy.

It was a great amusement both to him and to the other boys, his
playmates, to hunt the animals in the park, especially the deer. The
park was a somewhat extensive domain, but the animals were soon very
much diminished by the slaughter which the boys made among them.
Astyages endeavored to supply their places by procuring more. At
length, however, all the sources of supply that were conveniently at
hand were exhausted; and Cyrus, then finding that his grandfather was
put to no little trouble to obtain tame animals for his park,
proposed, one day, that he should be allowed to go out into the
forests, to hunt the wild beasts with the men. "There are animals
enough there, grandfather," said Cyrus, "and I shall consider them all
just as if you had procured them expressly for me."

In fact, by this time Cyrus had grown up to be a tall and handsome
young man, with strength and vigor sufficient, under favorable
circumstances, to endure the fatigues and exposures of real hunting.
As his person had become developed, his mind and manners, too,
had undergone a change. The gayety, the thoughtfulness, the
self-confidence, and talkative vivacity of his childhood had
disappeared, and he was fast becoming reserved, sedate, deliberate,
and cautious. He no longer entertained his grandfather's company by
his mimicry, his repartees, and his childish wit. He was silent; he
observed, he listened, he shrank from publicity, and spoke, when he
spoke at all, in subdued and gentle tones. Instead of crowding forward
eagerly into his grandfather's presence on all occasions, seasonable
and unseasonable, as he had done before, he now became, of his own
accord, ve