Thus Xenophon, like his beloved Spartans, has made war the main object of education, and, like the Romans, uses law as the chief instrument of instruction. But he has seen the demerits of the Spartan “Mess-clubs,” and his boys take their meals and sleep, as a rule, at home; only the epheboi, as in Crete, dine and sleep always in the agora. His chief merit is that he recognised that an educational atmosphere, εὐκοσμία τῶν πεπαιδευμένων, free from the associations of money-making, is essential to an educational establishment.
After this deeply interesting sketch of Xenophon’s educational ideals, the Education of Kuros becomes a historical novel with a purpose, an idealised Kuros acting as example throughout. In Book i. there is the description of him as the model boy, courteous to his elders, quick and eager to learn, brave, impetuous, loved by all, but rather a prig. The description is full of improving anecdotes and little sermons. The book concludes with a lecture on the duties of a general, dealing with tactics and the best means of training the army and providing supplies. Xenophon puts all his personal experience into this, and there is plenty of adventure to make the book palatable to his young readers.
A few extracts will make the characteristics of this curious work plain.
When quite young, Kuros went with his mother Mandané to stay with his grandfather Astuages, King of Media. The old man, thinking that the boy would be homesick and wishing to comfort him, sent for him at dinner the first evening and set all sorts of rich meats and sauces before him. Then Kuros said, “Grandfather, you must find it a great nuisance, if you have to help yourself to so many courses and taste so many kinds of food.” His grandfather replied, “Why, don’t you think this a much finer dinner than what you get at home?” “No, grandfather,” replied Kuros; “at home we satisfy our appetites by a short-cut, just bread and meat, but here, although your object is the same, you wind in and out so much on the way that it takes you ever so much longer to reach it.” “But, my boy, the delay is only so much pleasure, as you will see if you try.” Kuros, however, persisted in refusing the unwholesome dainties, so his grandfather compensated him by giving him an enormous help of meat. “Is all this meant for me,” asked Kuros, “to do what I like with?” “Yes, my boy.” Then Kuros took the meat and distributed it to the servants who were waiting at table, saying to one, “This is because you taught me to ride”; to another, “This is because you gave me a javelin”; to a third, “This is for waiting on my grandfather so nicely.” From this example the young reader doubtless learned not to desire too many courses or too rich sweets at table, and perhaps also to be grateful to every one, even servants. After this Kuros remained in Media, while his mother returned home. “He soon won the love of his schoolfellows, and quite charmed their parents when invited to their houses by the affection which he showed for their sons.” A good moral, this, for little boys who go out to parties.
This model boy does not die young, but grows up. He had been rather a chatterbox when small (a warning to the young readers), but only owing to his desire for knowledge and his readiness to answer questions; besides, he chattered in such a nice way that it was a pleasure to hear him. But as he grew older, he grew more bashful. “He always blushed when he met his elders, and he talked in a quieter tone. When he played with his schoolfellows, he chose the games where he expected to be beaten, not those in which he expected to win; and he was always ready to lead the laugh against himself when beaten.” Model youth! Of course, he soon became the champion at every form of sport, just as in a modern book of the kind he would have won at least five “Blues.”
Kuros next appears as a mighty hunter, and then at the age of fifteen takes a leading part in a battle against the Assyrians; in fact, it is his strategy and prowess that decide the day. What more could be wanted in a book for boys? The modern author would give him a grizzly bear, a lion, and a V.C.: Xenophon gives him the Persian equivalents.
After this, little more is said of Kuros’ boyhood. He is next introduced as a man of twenty-six, just put into command of a Persian expedition to help Media against the Assyrians.[726] Henceforth Xenophon’s object is no longer to point a moral, but to instruct budding generals and princes in strategy and government. The remaining books are a “Handbook of Tactics, with hints on the proper treatment of inferiors”; so they fitly begin with a long lecture by Kuros’ father on the whole duty of a general.[727] There is, however, a good deal of moral advice and occasional allegory interspersed amid the tactics. For instance, a certain Gobruas came to dine with the Persian army. “Seeing how plain the food was, he regarded the Persians as rather bourgeois. But then he observed what good manners the guests had. No educated Persian would allow himself to be seen staring at a dish, or helping himself hurriedly, or acting at table without proper deliberation. For they think it piggish to be excited by the presence of food or drink. He noticed, too, that they never asked one another questions which might cause pain, that their jests were never malicious nor their wit rude, that everything that they did was in the best taste, and that they never lost their tempers with one another.” And so on. “Manners for men,” we might call it, by Xenophon.
A curiously interesting case of allegory, which well shows how imaginary most of the history is, may be found in the third book.[728] The son of the king of Armenia had had for a companion and tutor a certain Sophist, of whose wisdom he was very proud. But his father condemned the Sophist for corrupting[729] the boy. When he was being led to execution, the man showed what a saint and hero he was by calling the boy and saying, “Do not be angry with your father for putting me to death. For it is no wicked purpose which makes him do it, but only ignorance. All sins which men commit in ignorance I rank as involuntary errors.” Later, the father confesses that he put the Sophist to death for stealing away his son’s affections, “for I feared that my boy might love him more than he loved me.” Kuros admits that such jealousy is an explanation and regards it as pardonable.
The analogy to Sokrates is obvious to any one. The half-apology for the Athenian people is very interesting in the mouth of the old Socratic companion Xenophon.
But the object of the Education of Kuros is, after all, to teach generalship. A couple of examples of the way in which this is done will suffice. On one occasion[730] Kuros orders the foot-cuirassiers to lead the way in a forced march, and kindly explains the object of such a manœuvre. “This command I give,” he says, “because they are the heaviest part of the army. When the heaviest part is in the van, obviously it is quite easy for the other arms, being lighter, to keep up. But if the quickest detachment is in front on a night march, it is not surprising if the army straggles, for the vanguard goes faster than the rest.” Again, Kuros could call all his officers by name, to their great surprise.[731] “For he thought it very absurd that tradesmen should know the names of all their tools, and yet a general should be so stupid as not to know the names of his officers whom he must use as his tools in the most serious emergencies. Soldiers who thought that their general knew their names would, he considered, be more eager to do heroic deeds in his presence, and less eager to play the coward. It seemed also to be foolish to be obliged to give orders, when he wanted something done, in the way some masters do in their households, ‘Fetch me some water, Somebody’; or ‘Cut some firewood, Someone.’ For when the order is addressed to no one in particular, each stands looking at his neighbour and expecting him to carry it out.”