No More Learning

doth not offend,
Though that perforce he must agree
To sound such tunes as I intend
To sing to them that heareth me;
Then though my songs be somewhat plain,
And toucheth some that use to feign,
Blame not my Lute!
My Lute and strings may not deny,
But as I strike they must obey:
Break not them then so wrongfully,
But wreak thyself some other way;
And though the songs which I indite
Do quit thy change with rightful spite,
Blame not my Lute!


## p. 16233 (#579) ##########################################

SIR THOMAS WYATT
16233
Spite asketh spite, and changing change,
And falsèd faith must needs be known;
The faults so great, the case so strange,
Of right it must abroad be blown:
Then since that by thine own desert
My songs do tell how true thou art,
Blame not my Lute!
Blame but thyself that hast misdone,
And well deserved to have blame.
Change thou thy way, so evil begone,
And then my Lute shall sound that same;
But if till then my fingers play,
By thy desert, their wonted way,
Blame not my Lute!
Farewell! Unknown; for though thou break
My strings in spite with great disdain,
Yet have I found out for thy sake,
Strings for to string my Lute again;
And if perchance this sely rhyme
Do make thee blush at any time,
Blame not my Lute!
HOW THE LOVER PERISHETH IN HIS DELIGHT AS THE FLY
IN THE FIRE
S
OME fowels there be who have so perfect sight,
Against the sun their eyes for to defend;
And some, because the light doth them offend,
Never appear but in the dark or night;
Others rejoice to see the fire so bright,
And ween to play in it, as they pretend,
But find contrary of it, that they intend.
Alas! of that sort may I be by right;
For to withstand her look I am not able :
Yet can I not hide me in no dark place;
So followeth me remembrance of that face,
That with my teary eyen, swoln and unstable,
My destiny to behold her doth me lead;
And yet I know I run into the glead.


## p. 16234 (#580) ##########################################

16234
SIR THOMAS WYATT
A RENOUNCING OF LOVE
F
AREWELL, Love, and all thy laws for ever;
Thy baited hooks shall tangle me no more:
Senec, and Plato, call me from thy lore,
To perfect wealth, my wit for to endeavor.
In blind error when I did persever,
Thy sharp repulse, that pricketh aye so sore,
Taught me in trifles that I set no store;
But scaped forth thence, since liberty is lever,
Therefore, farewell: go trouble younger hearts
And in me claim no more authority;
With idle youth go use thy property,
And thereon spend thy many brittle darts:
For, hitherto though I have lost my time,
Me list no longer rotten boughs to climb.
THE LOVER PRAYETH NOT TO BE DISDAINED, REFUSED, MIS-
TRUSTED, NOR FORSAKEN
D'S
ISDAIN me not without desert,
Nor leave me not so suddenly:
Since well ye wot that in my heart
I mean ye not but honestly.
Refuse me not without cause why,
For think me not to be unjust;
Since that by lot of fantasy,
This careful knot needs knit I must.
Mistrust me not, though some there be
That fain would spot my steadfastness;
Believe them not, since that ye see,
The proof is not as they express.
Forsake me not, till I deserve;
Nor hate me not, till I offend;
Destroy me not, till that I swerve:
But since ye know what I intend,
Disdain me not, that am your own;
Refuse mne not, that am so true;
Mistrust me not, till all be known;
Forsake me not now for no new.


## p. 16234 (#581) ##########################################



## p. 16234 (#582) ##########################################


season
WYCLIF.


## p. 16234 (#583) ##########################################

9
br. 15 a
ir 11:11
timin
t"?
i tineri
of its'ta
hisi
PI!
tais
1.
-i r . ܪܘܽ
1
611
jin
Piotr,
ti
i


## p. 16234 (#584) ##########################################


-


## p. 16235 (#585) ##########################################

16235
JOHN WYCLIF
(1324? -1384)
le. . .
HE literary significance of the great English churchman and
reformer, John Wyclif, is to be found in his splendid ren-
dering into the mother tongue of the sacred Scriptures.
The King James Version of the Bible has for so long been the
accepted form, — that in which all literary association centres, — that
there is danger of overlooking the importance and merit of this ear-
lier work of Wyclif. His may be called the first English version of
the Book having a high literary value; and this gives it importance
in the literary development of the tongue. Wyclif's translation is a
fine example of the marrowy vernacular of the fourteenth century,
the time of Chaucer; and it is not extravagant to say that the prose
of Wyclif did for the English of that period what the verse of the
first great poet of the race did for it, — namely, set the stamp of lit-
erary genius upon a native instrument hitherto unstrung and uncer-
tain of sound. This was Wyclif's service; and he — more than later
laborers in Biblical translation, like Tyndale and Coverdale - had the
gift as a writer necessary to give to the English Scriptures a power
and beauty endearing them to the people, and making them treasure-
trove for the students of literature. Without Wyclif's work, the King
James Version would never have been what it is. He was a mighty
pioneer, blazing the literary path at a crucial time in the history of
the evolution of the English speech and literature.
In the face of this his great achievement for literature, his other
writings, however important in their polemical and reformatory as-
pects, sink into relative obscurity. His tracts and sermons
many, — they number upwards of 200,— and can be now consulted in
the edition of the Wyclif Society. These polemical writings are part
of his career and influence as a reformer: here he played a striking
rôle. Wyclif was a scholar and thinker, a noble idealist in thrall
to a high purpose, - this despite the practical nature of much of his
labor and the variety of his accomplishment. He was born at Spres-
wel - probably the modern Hipswell — in Yorkshire: his birth year
fell before 1324, and is not accurately known. Wyclif was success-
ively scholar and fellow of Balliol College, Oxford, and before 1361 a
master there, since in that year he accepted the college living of Fill-
ingham; exchanging it in 1369 for that of Ludgershall, and again in
were
-


## p. 16236 (#586) ##########################################

162 36
JOHN WYCLIF
-
1374, by the gift of the Crown, for the more important living of Lut-
terworth. As early as 1363 he was reading lectures on divinity at
Oxford.
By 1361, when he was still a man well under forty, Wyclif had
begun his attacks on the Church: first assailing the mendicant orders,
and later aiming his shafts at the papal power; whence came a charge
of heresy in 1378, from which he only escaped persecution through
the intervention of the Princess of Wales. The papal schism in the
same year shows that Wyclif was not alone in his contentions. In-
deed, the English folk were beginning to arouse. The rapid multi-
plication of Wyclifites, - or Lollards, as his followers were styled by
their opponents,- and the quick spread of similar views in Hungary
under Huss, are signs of the times. In 1381 Wyclif passed from the
criticism of conduct and government to that of doctrine. He attacked
transubstantiation, with the result that he was condemned by a synod,
debarred from lecturing at Oxford, and forced to retire to his Lut-
terworth living; where he continued to promulgate his views with
the pen, and where death overtook him December 31st, 1384. In 1415
the Council of Constance condemned his doctrines, and ordered his
bones to be thrown on a dunghill. But his influence was continually
broadening A forerunner of Luther and Calvin, he is a mainspring
of the great religious reformatory movement. His translation of the
Bible was made in 1382, - about the time Chaucer was publishing his
Prologue. Wyclif's pupil, Nicholas of Hereford, did the Old Testa-
ment version, while Wyclif did all or most of the New. Entirely
aside from his place as the “morning star of the Reformation,” John
Wyclif's yeoman service in this translation of the Book entitles him to
rank high as a fourteenth-century worthy of literature. The speech he
uses, contemporaneous with Chaucer's, is “bottomed on the vernacu-
lar,” in Hazlitt's phrase; and an interesting specimen of plain, strong,
effective English. It is far more representative of the common folk
than is Chaucer's courtly style. In the extracts which follow, a speci-
men of the Bible version is given first unchanged, then the same
and other selections are modernized; enabling the reader to realize
that aside from the archaic spelling, there is very little to-day un-
intelligible about the fourteenth-century style of Wyclif.
>
>


## p. 16237 (#587) ##########################################

JOHN WYCLIF
16237
LUKE XV. 11-32
A, ,
ND he seide, A man hadde twei sones; and the yonger of hem
seide to the fadir, Fadir, gyue me the porcioun of catel, that
fallith to me. And he departide to hem the catel. And
not aftir many daies, whanne alle thingis weren gederid togider,
the yonger sone wente forth in pilgrymage in to a fer cuntre;
and there he wastide hise goodis in lyuynge lecherously. And
aftir that he hadde endid alle thingis a strong hungre was maad
in that cuntre, and he bigan to haue nede. And he wente and
drough hym to oon of the citeseyns of that cuntre. And he sente
hym in to his toun, to fede swyn. And he coueitide to fille his
wombe of the coddis that the hoggis eeten, and no man gaf hym.
And he turnede agen to hym silf, and seide, Hou many hirid
men in my fadir hous han plente of looues; and Y perische
here thorough hungir. Y schal rise vp, and go to my fadir, and
Y schal seie to hym, Fadir, Y haue synned in to heuene, and
bifor thee; and now Yam not worthi to be clepid thi sone,
make me as oon of thin hirid men. And he roos vp, and cam
to his fadir. And whanne he was yit afer, his fadir saigh hym,
and was stirrid bi mercy. And he ran, and fel on his necke, and
kisside hym. And the sone seide to hym, Fadir, Y haue synned
in to heuene, and bifor thee; and now Y am not worthi to be
clepid thi sone. And the father seide to hise seruauntis, Swithe
brynge ye forth the firste stoole, and clothe ye hym, and gyue ye
a ryng in his hoond, and schoon on hise feet; and brynge ye a
fat calf, and sle ye, and ete we, and make we feeste. For this
my sone was deed, and hath lyued agen; he perischid, and is
foundun. And alle men bigunnen to ete.
But his eldere sone
was in the feeld; and whanne he cam, and neighede to the
hous, he herde a symfonye and a croude. And he clepide oon of
the seruauntis, and axide, what these thingis weren. And he
seide to hym, Thi brother is comun, and thi fadir slewe a fat
calf, for he resseyuede hym saaf. And he was wrooth, and wolde
not come in. Therfor his fadir wente out, and bigan to preye
hym. And he answerde to his fadir, and seide, Lo! so many
yeeris Y serue thee, and Y neuer brak thi comaundement; and
thou neuer gaf to me a kidde, that Y with my freendis schulde
haue ete. But aftir that this thi sone, that hath deuourid his
substaunce with horis, cam, thou hast slayn to hym a fat calf.


## p. 16238 (#588) ##########################################

16238
JOHN WYCLIF
And he seide to hym, Sone, thou art euer more with me, and
alle my thingis ben thine. But it bihofte for to make feeste,
and to haue ioye; for this thi brother was deed, and lyuede
agen; he perischide, and is foundun.
SAME: MODERN VERSION
A
ND he said, A man had two sons; and the younger of them
said to the father, Father, give me the portion of cattle,
that falleth
to me. And he departed to him the cattle.
And not after many days, when all things were gathered together,
the younger son went forth in pilgrimage in to a far country; and
.
there he wasted his goods in living lecherously. And after that he
had ended all things, a strong hunger was made in that country,
and he began to have need. And he went and drew him to one
of the citizens of that country. And he sent him in to his town,
to feed swine. And he coveted to fill his womb of the cods that
the hogs eat, and no man gave him. And he turned again to
himself, and said, How many hired men in my father's house
have plenty of loaves; and I perish here through hunger. I shall
rise up, and go to my father, and I shall say to him, Father, I
have sinned in to heaven, and before thee; and now I am not
worthy to be clept* thy son, make me as one of thine hired men.
And he rose up, and came to his father. And when he was yet
afar, his father saw him, and was stirred by mercy. And he ran,
and fell on his neck, and kissed him. And the son said to him,
Father, I have sinned in to heaven, and before thee; and now I
am not worthy to be clept thy son. And the father said to his
servants, Swithe f bring ye forth the first stool, and clothe ye him,
and give ye a ring in his hand, and shoon on his feet; and bring
ye a fat calf, and slay ye, and eat we, and make we feast. For this
my son was dead, and hath lived again; he perished, and is found.
And all men begun to eat. But his elder son was in the field;
and when he came, and nighed to the house, he heard a sym-
phony and a crowd. And he clept one of the servants, and asked,
what these things were. And he said to him, Thy brother is
come, and thy father slew a fat calf, for he received him safe.
And he was wroth, and would not come in. Therefore his father
went out, and began to pray him. And he answered to his father,
and said, Lo! so many years I serve thee, and I never brake thy
* Called. Quickly.
>


## p. 16239 (#589) ##########################################

JOHN WYCLIF
16239
commandment; and thou never gave to me a kid, that I with my
friends should have eaten. But after that this thy son, that hath
devoured his substance with whores, came, thou hast slain to him
a fat calf. And he said to him, Son, thou art ever more with
me, and all my things be thine. But it behoved for to make
feast, and to have joy; for this thy brother was dead, and lived
again; he perished, and is found.
I CORINTHIANS XIII.
F I speak with tongues of men and of angels, and I have not
charity, I am made as brass sounding, or a cymbal tinkling.
And if I have prophecy, and know all mysteries and all
cunning, and if I have all faith, so that I move hills from their
place, and I have not charity, I am naught. And if I depart all
my goods in to the meats of poor men, and if I betake my body, so
that I burn, and if I have not charity, it profiteth to me no thing.
Charity is patient, it is benign; charity envieth not, it doeth not
wickedly, it is not upblown, it is not covetous, it seeketh not the
things that be its own, it is not stirred to wrath, it thinketh not
evil, it joyeth not on wickedness, but it joyeth together to truth;
it suffereth all things, it believeth all things, it hopeth all things,
it sustaineth all things. Charity falleth never down, whether
prophecies shall be void, or languages shall cease, or science
shall be destroyed. For a part we know, and a part we prophesy;
but when that shall come that is perfect, that thing that is of
part shall be avoided. When I was a little child, I spake as a
little child, I understood as a little child; but when I was made ·
a man, I avoided the things that were of a little child. And we
see now by a mirror in darkness, but then face to face; now I
know of part, but then I shall know, as I am known.
And now
dwell faith, hope, and charity, these three; but the most of these
is charity.
JOHN XX. 1-31
AND
Nd in one day of the week Mary Magdalene came early to
the grave, when it was yet dark. And she saw the stone
moved away from the grave. Therefore she ran, and came
to Simon Peter, and to another disciple, whom Jesus loved, and


## p. 16240 (#590) ##########################################

16240
JOHN WYCLIF
saith to them, They have taken the Lord from the grave, and we
wis not, where they have laid him. Therefore Peter went out, and
that other disciple, and they came to the grave. And they twain
run together, and that other disciple ran before Peter, and came
first to the grave.
And when he stooped, he saw the sheets
lying, natheless he entered not. Therefore Simon Peter came
pursuing him, and he entered into the grave, and he saw the
sheets laid, and the napkin that was on his head, not laid with
the sheets, but by itself wrapped in to a place. Therefore then
that disciple that came first to the grave, entered, and saw, and
believed. For they knew not yet the scripture, that it behoved
him to rise again from death. Therefore the disciples went eft-
soon to themselves. But Mary stood at the grave with outforth
weeping And the while she wept, she bowed her, and beheld
forth in to the grave. And she saw two angels sitting in white,
one at the head and one at the feet, where the body of Jesus
was laid.
And they said to her, Woman, what weepest thou ?
She said to them, For they have taken away my lord, and I wot
not, where they have laid him. When she had said these things,
she turned backward, and saw Jesus standing, and wist not that
it was Jesus. Jesus saith to her, Woman, what weepest thou ?
whom seekest thou ? She guessing that he was a gardener, saith
to him, Sire, if thou hast taken him up, say to me where thou
hast laid him, and I shall take him away. Jesus saith to her,
, .
Mary. She turned, and saith to him, Raboni, that is to say,
Master. Jesus saith to her, Nill* thou touch me, for I have not
yet ascended to my Father: but go to my brethren, and say to
them, I go to my Father and to your Father, to my God and to
your God. Mary Magdalene came, telling to the disciples, That
I saw the Lord, and these things he said to me. Therefore
when it was eve in that day, one of the sabbaths, and the gates
were shut, where the disciples were gathered, for dread of the
Jews, Jesus came, and stood in the middle of the disciples, and
he saith to them, Peace to you. And when he had said this, he
shewed to them hands and side; therefore the disciples joyed,
for the Lord was seen. And he saith to them eftsoon, Peace to
you: as the Father sent me, I send you. When he had said this,
he blew on them, and said, Take ye the Holy Ghost: whose sins
ye forgive, they be forgiven to them; and whose ye withhold, they
* Nill - Ne will: touch me not.


## p. 16241 (#591) ##########################################

JOHN WYCLIF
16241
be withholden. But Thomas, one of the twelve, that is said
Didymus, was not with them, when Jesus came. Therefore the
other disciples said, We have seen the Lord. And he said to
them, But I see in his hands the print of the nails, and put my
finger in to the places of the nails, and put mine hand in to his
side, I shall not believe. And after eight days eftsoon his dis-
ciples were with in, and Thomas with them. Jesus came, while
the gates were shut, and stood in the middle, and said, Peace to
you.
Afterward he saith to Thomas, Put in here thy finger,
and see mine hands, and put hither thine hand, and put into
my side, and nil thou be unbelieveful, but faithful. Thomas
answered, and said to him, My Lord and my God. Jesus saith to
him, Thomas, for thou hast seen me, thou believedest: blessed be
they that see not, and have believed. And Jesus did many other
signs in the sight of his disciples, which be not written in this
book. But these be written, that ye believe, that Jesus is Christ,
the son of God, and that ye believing have life in his name.
APOCALYPSE V. 1-14
AND
ND I saw in the right hand of the sitter on the throne, a
book written with in and with out, and sealed with seven
seals. And I saw a strong angel, preaching with a great
voice, Who is worthy to open the book, and to undo the seals of
it ? And none in heaven, neither in earth, neither under earth,
might open the book, neither behold it. And I wept much, for
none was found worthy to open the book, neither to see it. And
one of the elder men said to me, Weep thou not: lo! a lion of
the lineage of Judah, the root of David, hath overcome to open
the book, and to undo the seven seals of it. And I saw, and
lo! in the middle of the throne, and of the four beasts, and in
the middle of the elder men, a lamb standing as slain, that had
seven horns, and seven eyne, which be seven spirits of God,
sent in to all the earth. And he came, and took of the right
hand of the sitter in the throne the book. And when he had
opened the book, the four beasts and the four and twenty elder
men fell down before the lamb; and had each of them harps,
and golden vials full of odors, which be the prayers of saints.
And they sung a new song, and said, Lord our God, thou art
worthy to take the book, and to open the seals of it; for thou
XXVII-1016


## p. 16242 (#592) ##########################################

16242
JOHN WYCLIF
wert slain, and again boughtest * us to God in thy blood, of each
lineage, and tongue, and people, and nation; and madest us a
kingdom, and priests to our God; and we shall reign on earth.
And I saw, and heard the voice of many angels all about the
throne, and of the beasts, and of the elder men. And the num-
ber of them was thousands of thousands, saying with a great
voice, The lamb that was slain, is worthy to take virtue, and
godhead, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory, and
blessing. And each creature that is in heaven, and that is on
earth, and under earth, and the sea, and which things be in it, I
heard all saying, To him that sat in the throne, and to the
lamb, blessing, and honor, and glory, and power, in to worlds
of worlds. And the four beasts said, Amen. And the four and
twenty elder men fell down on their faces, and worshiped him
that liveth in to worlds of worlds.
* Redeemest.


## p. 16243 (#593) ##########################################

16243
XENOPHON
(430 B. C. ? -355 B. C. ? )
BY WILLIAM CRANSTON LAWTON
X
one.
ENOPHON, son of Gryllus, was an Athenian, modest of de-
meanor and beautiful beyond description.
Tradition tells
how Socrates met him in a narrow way, and barring the
passage with his leveled staff, began to ask him where this or that
commodity could be bought. The boy answered readily. Finally the
sage inquired, “Where can the beautiful and noble be found ? ) The
youth shook his head in perplexity. Fol-
low me and learn. ” So Xenophon became
his hearer.
The anecdote is traceable only to gossip-
ing Diogenes Laertius, six centuries later.
It is doubtless an invention; but a good
As a beautiful and vigorous stripling,
joining in the Socratic search for wisdom
with the eager half-comprehending faith
of youth, Xenophon stands eternalized in
Raphael's School of Athens, and in the
grateful memory of mankind.
It is most natural and fitting, then, that
Xenophon's masterpiece, the Anabasis,' is XENOPHON
the ideal book for boys, and furnishes the
chosen high-road for every new generation, marching in slow daily
stages — albeit unwilling and tearful ofttimes— toward a mastery of
the speech and life of ancient Athens. Furthermore this supreme
adventure, this triumphant failure, of Xenophon's life, begins with a
bold outbreak of truancy and disobedience!
« There was in the army a certain Xenophon, an Athenian, who
was neither general, captain, nor soldier. His old friend, the general
Proxenus, had written inviting him, promising to make him a friend
to Prince Cyrus, whom Proxenus declared he himself prized more
than he did his native city. ” This unpatriotic sentiment of a The-
ban toward a barbarian, a boy, a despot, should have warned the
Athenian youth. Xenophon, however, on reading the letter, asked
Socrates's advice. He, wisely fearing that Cyrus's friendship would



## p. 16244 (#594) ##########################################

16244
XENOPHON
cost Xenophon the good-will of Athens, and perhaps to gain time for
riper thought, bade him consult Apollo's Delphic oracle. «Xenophon,
going to Delphi, asked Apollo to which of the gods he should make
prayers and vows, in order to succeed in the expedition on which
his heart was set, so as to come prosperous and safe home again. ”
Socrates reproached his disciple, upon his return, for not asking first
whether it were better to go at all or to stay at home. “Since, how-
ever,” he added, “you did put the question so, you must now do what
the god bade you. ”
Many scenes and incidents of the Anabasis) are used again in
the Cyropædeia' (Youth of Cyrus the Elder), which makes no real
pretension to truth, being indeed the first European historical >
novel or romance. This has cast much doubt on the veracity of the
Anabasis. The remark in a third Xenophontic work (the Hellenica,'
or Contemporary History) that the upward march and retreat of the
Ten Thousand had been recorded “by Themistogenes the Syracusan,”
does not help our faith.
Every reader of the Anabasis) must see, at any rate, that the
writer views the world through Xenophon's eyes, always knowing
his thoughts, and even his dreams. Of its authorship we can have
no real doubt. Its truthfulness is another question. Like Cæsar's
Commentaries,' it represents what the chief hero, and sole recorder,
wishes the world to accept as truth. It is rarely possible to convict
such masterly special pleaders of direct falsifying:
Perhaps every story of a life, adequately told, is felt to be typ-
ical of universal humanity. Certainly many a reader has dreamily
felt that this truant scholar, deserting Athens, home, school, philoso-
phy, for Babel, wealth, power, the favor of a rash and doomed
prince,- is but young manhood itself, hesitant and erring at the
parting of the ways.
It was a veteran schoolmaster who attempted at last to indicate
this recurrent feeling in a marginal comment on the Anabasis)
(iv. 8, 4).
The imperial boy had fallen in his pride
Before the gates of golden Babylon.
The host, who deemed that priceless treasure won,
For many a day since then had wandered wide,
By famine thinned, by savage hordes defied.
In a deep vale, beneath the setting sun,
They saw at last a swift black river run,
While shouting spearmen thronged the farther side.
Then eagerly, with startled joyous eyes,
Toward the desponding chief a soldier flew:-
"I was a slave in Athens, never knew


## p. 16245 (#595) ##########################################

XENOPHON
16245
My native country; but I understand
The meaning of yon wild barbarian cries,
And I believe this is my fatherland! »
This glimpse have we, no more. Did parents fond,
Brothers, or kinsmen, hail his late return ?
Or did he, doubly exiled, only yearn
To greet the Euxine's waves at Trebizond,
The blue Ægean, and Pallas's towers beyond ?
Mute is the record. We shall never learn.
But as once more the well-worn page I turn,
Forever by reluctant schoolboys conned,
A parable to me the tale appears,
Of blacker waters in a drearier vale.
Ab me! When on that brink we exiles stand,
As earthly lights and mortal accents fail,
Shall voices long forgotten reach our ears,
To tell us we have found our fatherland ?
Indeed there was much that was tragic, and even fatal, in this
hasty venture of Xenophon. His master, certainly, he never saw again.
The death scene which is immortalized — and without doubt freely
idealized — at the close of Plato's Phædo,' occurred while Xenophon
was leading unruly mercenaries to fruitless battle against Kurdish
and Armenian savages. Even when the survivors of the great retreat
reached the Black Sea, many mishaps awaited them, in a Greek world
rapidly falling apart under Sparta's weak and selfish leadership. The
remnant of the ten thousand adventurers was finally incorporated
in the troops assembling for a campaign of the Spartans against the
treacherous Persian Tissaphernes. Socrates's fears for Xenophon
apparently came true: a passing allusion in the Anabasis) itself tells
us that Xenophon's return from Asia to Hellas was in Agesilaus's
train, when that Spartan king was recalled from Asiatic victories
to save Lacedæmon from the alliance of foes at home against her.
Among those jealous allies was Athens. In Agesilaus's barren vic-
tory at Coroneia (394 B. C. ) Xenophon probably shared, thus fighting
against his own townsmen.
Whether this constituted him a traitor is not so easy to say.
Party spirit ran as high in a classic Greek city as in mediæval Italy.
Xenophon felt that his true city went into exile with the aristocratic
party,- or with himself alone, like Dante! Death awaited both at
the gate, unless they came home victorious in arms. Moreover there
was a feeling, never wholly lacking from Agamemnon to Polybius,
and of growing strength in Xenophon's day, that Hellas was the true
fatherland, that all Greeks were fellow-citizens, the Persians their
only natural foes.


## p. 16246 (#596) ##########################################

16246
XENOPHON
In this very crisis, Agesilaus was recalled from a career in Asia
that might have anticipated Alexander's. Persian gold subsidized the
revolt at home against Sparta's leadership. Xenophon at Coroneia
may well have justified his action as patriotic — if he indeed fought
there. He himself had seen a handful of Greeks knock, like Hia-
watha, at the very heart of the Persian leviathan, and come safe
home again. The inability of that unwieldy empire to make effective
resistance against sudden attack, he has recorded in words that fired
Alexander's confidence in the next generation. What wonder if Agesi-
laus was to him “better than a fatherland” so unfatherly? We
only hear that on some charge of Laconism he was condemned to
prolonged exile. Whether he ever returned to Athens is disputed.
If at all, it was in extreme old age.
The home founded by the exile at Scillus in Elis is lovingly
described in a graceful excursus of the Anabasis,' which is cited
below. Here he lived happily for more than twenty years, during
which most of his literary work was apparently done.
Xenophon is the first really versatile Greek writer of whom we
hear. Of poetry, to be sure, he is quite incapable. His Agesilaus'
is rather a eulogy than a biography; and the Hiero' is neither, but
a dialogue between the tyrant and the poet Simonides, gracefully
demonstrating the Socratic doctrine that the despot is wretched
rather than fortunate.
The Memorabilia' was probably in its intention a faithful memo-
rial of Socrates, prepared about ten years after the master's death.
It is discussed with citations in a previous volume under that mas-
ter's name.
Both the "Symposium' and the Economist' are dialogues in
which Socrates takes part. He is not, however, dominant in either;
and we get the impression that they are largely or wholly Xeno-
phon's creations. The Symposium is utterly inferior in power to
Plato's great dramatic scene, but is doubtless a far more realistic
picture of an ordinary Athenian banquet, — possibly even of one
actual banquet. The Economicus) is a sketch of an ideal gentle-
man farmer; and is cited largely below, because it contains one of
the brightest glimpses in all ancient literature of a happy wife and
home.
The Anabasis) was apparently written after 380 B. C. , and the
Cyropædeia' much later still. As a novel the latter must be pro-
nounced an interesting failure, being tedious and unprogressive as a
whole. The childhood, and again the death, of the ideal prince are
beautifully and touchingly described. In the first book especially
Xenophon draws unmistakably from the life, and must have been
on terms of loving familiarity with his own children.


## p. 16247 (#597) ##########################################

XENOPHON
16247
Quite the most unsatisfying of Xenophon's chief works is his
(Hellenica. It was probably undertaken to complete the account of
the Peloponnesian War from the point where Thucydides's pen dropt
from his dying hand. Indeed, the manuscripts of Xenophon actually
begin "And after that » - but it is thought a leaf or two was early
lost at the opening; there is also a gap of some months between
the events narrated in the two works. The closing years of the
great struggle, 411-404 B. C. , and the reign of terror in Athens under
the Thirty Tyrants, are described in a complete section of the
history, published previous to 387 B. C. The later section brings the
story down to about 357 B. C. In this volume the omissions and
disproportions are so glaring that some have thought we possess but
an epitome of the original work. But probably Xenophon wrote
these volumes as memoirs; consciously yielding largely to his per-
sonal interests and sympathies, and perhaps intending his work for a
narrow circle. His unrivaled popularity, and the chance of survival,
have left him our sole connected and contemporary authority for a
very important period.
There are abundant indications that Xenophon's delight in out-
door life, agriculture, hunting, horsemanship, and athletics, kept him
young and cheerful even into his eighth decade. « The heart of the
old man was overjoyed to see his grandson, unable to keep silent
in the excess of his delight, but baying' with excitement like a
well-bred whelp, whenever he came to close quarters with a beast,
and shouting to his fellows by name. ” Behind the thin mask of
royal Astyages, the author of the (Cyropædeia' here shows his own
cheerful face. An abiding faith in kindly guidance by the gods
through omens, sacrifices, and dreams, contentment with his lot, loving
loyalty to friendship, cool intrepidity in deadly peril, and a constant
lively sense of the humorous in all things,—these are traits which
Xenophon shared with Socrates, and it may well be that they are in
part lifelong traces of the philosopher's early influence.
Xenophon himself, however, is not a philosopher, hardly even a
scholar; and certainly not in the least a mystic. His nature is not
a deep or brooding one. He has not even an abiding sense of the
marvelous in life. Rather he reminds us of a cheerful English coun-
try gentleman, perfectly satisfied with his estates, his family, and
himself. Modern sportsmen have made vigorous protests against
some of his methods of snaring hares wholesale, but his “Treatise on
Horsemanship’ is still useful. In general the man is astonishingly
human, not to say modern.
The best general paper on Xenophon known to us is the some-
what extended one by Henry Graham Dakyns, in the notable volume
of English essays edited by Evelyn Abbott and entitled Hellenica. '
-


## p. 16248 (#598) ##########################################

16248
XENOPHON
This essay has been freely (but very incompletely) exploited in the
present sketch. Mr. Dakyns is also the author of the best transla-
tion of Xenophon, several volumes of which have already appeared
(Macmillan's). It is quite unnecessary to catalogue editions of this
favorite school author; but those who are weary of the beaten track
will find Holden's (Economicus' a most enjoyable book, complete
in itself.
Nizziam Cranston Lauron
.
THE TRAINING OF A WIFE
From the Economist)
"A
(C
(
(C
S to what you asked me besides, Socrates, I assuredly do not
spend my life in-doors; for,” added he, “my wife is quite
capable herself of managing what is to be done in my
house. " -But,” said I, “Ischomachus, I would very gladly be
permitted to ask you whether you instructed your wife yourself,
so that she might be qualified as she ought to be; or whether,
when you received her from her father and mother, she was
possessed of sufficient knowledge to manage what belongs to her. ”
- "And how, my dear Socrates,” said he could she have had
sufficient knowledge when I took her ? since she came to my
house when she was not fifteen years old, and had spent the pre-
ceding part of her life under the strictest restraint, in order that
she might see as little, hear as little, and ask as few questions as
possible. Does it not appear to you to be quite sufficient, if she
did but know, when she came, how to take wool and make a gar-
ment, and had seen how to apportion the tasks of spinning among
the maid-servants ? For as to what concerns the appetite, Socra-
tes,” added he, “which seems to me a most important part of
instruction both for a man and for a woman, she came to me ex-
tremely well instructed. ” — “But as to other things, Ischomachus,”
said I, did you yourself instruct your wife, so that she should
be qualified to attend to the affairs belonging to her ? ” — Not,
indeed,” replied Ischomachus, until I had offered sacrifice, and
prayed that it might be my fortune to teach, and hers to learn,
what would be best for both of us. ” — «Did your wife, then,”
said I, “join with you in offering sacrifice, and in praying for
»


## p. 16249 (#599) ##########################################

1
XENOPHON
16249
these blessings? "- "Certainly," answered Ischomachus, and she
made many vows to the gods that she would be such as she
ought to be, and showed plainly that she was not likely to dis-
regard what was taught her. ” — “In the name of the gods, Is-
chomachus, tell me,” said I, what you began to teach her first;
“
for I shall have more pleasure in hearing you give this account,
than if you were to give me a description of the finest gymnastic
or equestrian games. " -- "Well then, Socrates, returned Ischo-
“"
machus, when she grew familiarized and domesticated with me,
so that we conversed freely together, I began to question her in
some such way as this:
« (Tell me, my dear wife, have you ever considered with what
view I married you, and with what object your parents gave you
to me? For that there was no want of other persons with whom
we might have shared our respective beds must, I am sure, be
evident to you as well as to me. But when I considered for my-
self, and your parents for you, whom we might select as the best
partner for a house and children, I preferred you, and your par-
ents as it appears preferred me, out of those who were possible
objects of choice. If, then, the gods should ever grant children
to be born to us, we shall consult together, with regard to them,
how we may bring them up as well as possible; for it will be a
common advantage to both of us to find them of the utmost
service as supporters and maintainers of our old age.
ent, however, this is our common household; for I deposit all
that I have as in common between us, and you put everything
that you have brought into our common stock. Nor is it
necessary to consider which of the two has contributed the
greater share; but we ought to feel assured that whichsoever of
us is the better manager of our common fortune will give the
more valuable service. '
“To these remarks, Socrates, my wife replied, 'In what respect
could I co-operate with you? What power have I? Everything
lies with you. My duty, my mother told me, was to conduct
myself discreetly. ' – 'Yes, by Jupiter, my dear wife,' replied I,
(and my father told me the same. But it is the part of discreet
people, as well as husbands and wives, to act in such a manner
that their property may be in the best possible condition, and
that as large additions as possible may be made to it by honor-
able and just means. ' – 'And what do you see,' said my wife,
that I can do to assist in increasing our property? '—'Endeavor
At pres-
c


## p. 16250 (#600) ##########################################

16250
XENOPHON
by all means,' answered I, to do in the best possible manner
those duties which the gods have qualified you to do, and which
custom approves. ' – 'And what are they? ' asked she. — 'I con-
sider,' replied I, (that they are duties of no small importance,
unless indeed the queen bee in a hive is appointed for purposes
of small importance. For to me the gods, my dear wife,' said I,
(seem certainly to have united that pair of beings which is called
male and female, with the greatest judgment, that they may be
in the highest degree serviceable to each other in their connec-
tion. In the first place, the pair are brought together to pro-
duce offspring, that the races of animals may not become extinct;
and to human beings, at least, it is granted to have supporters
for their old age from this union. For human beings also, their
mode of life is not, like that of cattle, in the open air; but they
have need, we see, of houses. It is accordingly necessary for
those who would have something to bring into their houses, to
have people to perform the requisite employments in the open
air: for tilling, and sowing, and planting, and pasturage are all
employments for the open air; and from these employments the
necessaries of life are procured. But when these necessaries have
been brought into the house, there is need of some one to take
care of them, and to do whatever duties require to be done
under shelter. The rearing of young children also demands
shelter, as well as the preparation of food from the fruits of the
earth, and the making of clothes from wool. And as both these
sorts of employments, alike those without doors and those within,
require labor and care, the gods, as it seems to me,' said I, 'have
plainly adapted the nature of the woman for works and duties
within doors, and that of the man for works and duties without
doors. For the divinity has fitted the body and mind of the man
to be better able to bear cold, and heat, and traveling, and mili-
tary exercises, so that he has imposed upon him the work with-
out doors; and by having formed the body of the woman to be
less able to bear such exertions, he appears to me to have laid
upon her,' said I, the duties within doors. But knowing that he
had given the woman by nature, and laid upon her, the office of
rearing young children, he had also bestowed upon her a greater
portion of love for her newly born offspring than of the man.
“The law, too,' I told her,” he proceeded, “ gives its approba-
tion to these arrangements, by uniting the man and the woman;
and as the divinity has made them partners, as it were, in their
>
(((


## p. 16251 (#601) ##########################################

XENOPHON
16251
(
offspring, so the law ordains them to be sharers in household
affairs. The law also shows that those things are more becoming
to each which the divinity has qualified each to do with greater
facility; for it is more becoming for the woman to stay within
doors than to roam abroad, but to the man it is less creditable
to remain at home than to attend to things out of doors. And if
any one acts contrary to what the divinity has fitted him to do,
he will, while he violates the order of things, possibly not escape
the notice of the gods, and will pay the penalty whether of neg-
lecting his own duties or of interfering with those of his wife.
The queen of the bees,' I added, 'appears to me to discharge
such duties as are appointed her by the divinity. '-'And what
duties,' inquired my wife, ‘has the queen bee to perform, that
she should be made an example for the business which I have to
do? '— 'She, remaining within the hive,' answered I, does not
allow the bees to be idle, but sends out to their duty those who
ought to work abroad: and whatever each of them brings in, she
takes cognizance of it and receives it, and watches over the store
until there is occasion to use it; and when the time for using it
is come, she dispenses to each bee its just due. She also presides
over the construction of the cells within, that they may be formed
beautifully and expeditiously. She attends, too, to the rising
progeny, that they may be properly reared; and when the young
bees are grown up, and are fit for work, she sends out a colony
of them under some leader taken from among the younger bees. '
- Will it then be necessary for me,' said my wife, 'to do such
things ? ' -'It will certainly be necessary for you,' said I,
(to
remain at home, and to send out such of the laborers as have
to work abroad, to their duties; and over such as have business
to do in the house you must exercise a watchful superintendence.
Whatever is brought into the house, you must take charge of it;
whatever portion of it is required for use, you must give out;
and whatever should be laid by, you must take account of it
and keep it safe, so that the provision stored up for a year, for
example, may not be expended in a month. Whenever wool is
brought home to you, you must take care that garments be made
for those who want them. You must also be careful that the
dried provisions may be in a proper condition for eating. One
of your duties, however, I added, will perhaps appear somewhat
disagreeable; namely, that whoever of all the servants may fall
sick, you must take charge of him, that he may be recovered. ' –


## p. 16252 (#602) ##########################################

16252
XENOPHON
»
Nay, assuredly,' returned my wife, that will be a most agree.
able office, if such as receive good treatment are likely to make
a grateful return, and to become more attached to me than be-
fore. ' — Delighted with her answer, continued Ischomachus,
“I said to her, Are not the bees, my dear wife, in consequence
of some such care on the part of the queen of the hive, so
affected toward her, that when she quits the hive, no one of them
thinks of deserting her, but all follow in her train ? '-'I should
wonder, however,' answered my wife, (if the duties of leader
do not rather belong to you than to me: for my guardianship of
what is in the house, and distribution of it, would appear rather
ridiculous, I think, if you did not take care that something might
be brought in from out of doors. '-And on the other hand,
returned I, my bringing in would appear ridiculous, unless there
were somebody to take care of what is brought in. Do you not
see,' said I, how those who are said to draw water in a bucket
full of holes are pitied, as they evidently labor in vain ? ' - 'Cer-
tainly,' replied my wife, for they are indeed wretched, if they
are thus employed. '
««Some other of your occupations, my dear wife,' continued
I will be pleasing to you. For instance, when you take a
young woman who does not know how to spin, and make her
skillful at it, and she thus becomes of twice as much value to
you. Or when you take one who is ignorant of the duties of a
housekeeper or servant, and having made her accomplished, trust-
worthy, and handy, render her of the highest value. Or when it
is in your power to do services to such of your attendants as are
steady and useful, while if any one is found transgressing you
can inflict punishment. But you will experience the greatest of
pleasures, if you show yourself superior to me, and render me
your servant: and have no cause to fear that as life advances,
you may become less respected in your household; but may trust
that while you grow older, the better consort you prove to me,
and the more faithful guardian of your house for your children,
so much the more will you be esteemed by your family. For
what is good and honorable,' I added, “gains increase of respect,
not from beauty of person, but from merits directed to the benefit
of human life. '
«Such were the subjects, Socrates, on which, as far as I re-
member, I first conversed seriously with my wife. ”
(
((


## p. 16253 (#603) ##########################################

XENOPHON
16 253
XENOPHON'S ESTATE AT SCILLUS
From the (Anabasis)
X
ENOPHON, after causing an offering to be made for Apollo,
deposited it in the treasury of the Athenians at Delphi,
inscribing on it his own name, and that of Proxenus who
was killed with Clearchus; for he had been his guest-friend.
The portion designed for Diana of Ephesus he left with Mega-
byzus, the warden of that goddess's temple, when he returned
with Agesilaus out of Asia on an expedition to Boeotia, because
he seemed likely to incur some peril: and enjoined him, if he
escaped, to return the money to him; but if he met with an ill
fate, to make such an offering as he thought. would please the
goddess, and dedicate it to her. Afterwards when Xenophon was
banished from his country, and was living at Scillus, a colony
settled by the Lacedæmonians near Olympia, Megabyzus came
to Olympia to see the games, and restored him the deposit.
Xenophon, on receiving it, purchased some land as an offering to
the goddess where the god had directed him. The river Selinus
happens to run through the midst of it; and another river named
Selinus runs close by the temple of Diana at Ephesus: and in
both there are different kinds of fish, and shell-fish. On the
land near Scillus, too, there is hunting of all such beasts as are
taken in the chase. He built also an altar and a temple with the
consecrated money, and continued afterwards to make a sacrifice
every year, always receiving a tenth of the produce of the sea.
sons from the land: and all the people of the town, as well as
the men and women of the neighborhood, took part in the festi-
val; while the goddess supplied those in tents there with barley-
meal, bread, wine, sweetmeats, and a share of the victims offered
from the sacred pastures, and of those caught in hunting: for
the sons of Xenophon, and those of the other inhabitants, always
made a general hunt against the festival, and such of the men as
were willing hunted with them; and there were caught, partly on
the sacred lands and partly on Mount Pholoe, boars and ante-
lopes and deer. This piece of ground lies on the road from
Lacedæmon to Olympia, about twenty stadia from the temple of
Jupiter at Olympia.
There are within the place groves and hills covered with
trees, adapted for the breeding of swine, goats, oxen, and horses;
so that the beasts of the persons coming to the festival are


## p. 16254 (#604) ##########################################

16254
XENOPHON
amply supplied with food. Round the temple itself is planted a
grove of cultivated trees, bearing whatever fruits are eatable in
the different seasons. The edifice is similar, as far as a small
can be to a great one, to that at Ephesus; and the statue is as
like to that at Ephesus as a statue of cypress can be to one of
gold. A pillar stands near the temple, bearing this inscription:
THIS GROUND IS SACRED TO DIANA. HE THAT POSSESSES AND REAPS
THE FRUIT OF IT IS TO
OFFER
EVERY YEAR
THE
TENTH
OF
ITS
PRODUCE, AND TO KEEP THE TEMPLE IN REPAIR FROM THE RESI-
DUE.