Family of Xenophon — his son Gryllus killed at Mantinea.

Xenophon seems to have passed many years of his life either at Skillus or in other parts of Peloponnesus, and is said to have died very old at Corinth. The sentence of banishment passed against him by the Athenians was revoked after the battle of Leuktra, when Athens came into alliance with the Lacedæmonians against Thebes. Some of Xenophon’s later works indicate that he must have availed himself of this revocation to visit Athens: but whether he permanently resided there is uncertain. He had brought over with him from Asia a wife named Philesia, by whom he had two sons, Gryllus and Diodorus.11 He sent these two youths to be trained at Sparta, under the countenance of Agesilaus:12 afterwards the eldest of them, Gryllus, served with honour in the Athenian cavalry which assisted the Lacedæmonians and Mantineians against Epameinondas, B.C. 362. In the important combat13 of the Athenian and Theban cavalry, close to the gates of Mantineia — shortly preceding the general battle of Mantineia, in which Epameinondas was slain — Gryllus fell, fighting with great bravery. The death of this gallant youth — himself seemingly of great promise, and the son of so eminent a father — was celebrated by Isokrates and several other rhetors, as well as by the painter Euphranor at Athens, and by sculptors at Mantineia itself.14

Death of Xenophon at Corinth — Story of the Eleian Exegetæ.

Skillus, the place in which the Lacedæmonians had established Xenophon, was retaken by the Eleians during the humiliation of Lacedæmonian power, not long before the battle of Mantineia. Xenophon himself was absent at the time; but his family were constrained to retire to Lepreum. It was after this, we are told, that he removed to Corinth, where he died in 355 B.C. or in some year later. The Eleian Exegetæ told the traveller Pausanias, when he visited the spot five centuries afterwards, that Xenophon had been condemned in the judicial Council of Olympia as wrongful occupant of the property at Skillus, through Lacedæmonian violence; but that the Eleians had granted him indulgence, and had allowed him to remain.15 As it seems clearly asserted that he died at Corinth, he can hardly have availed himself of the indulgence; and I incline to suspect that the statement is an invention of subsequent Eleian Exegetæ, after they had learnt to appreciate his literary eminence.

Xenophon different from Plato and the other Sokratic brethren.

From the brief outline thus presented of Xenophon’s life, it will plainly appear that he was quite different in character and habits from Plato and the other Sokratic brethren. He was not only a man of the world (as indeed Aristippus was also), but he was actively engaged in the most responsible and difficult functions of military command: he was moreover a landed proprietor and cultivator, fond of strong exercise with dogs and horses, and an intelligent equestrian. His circumstances were sufficiently easy to dispense with the necessity of either composing discourses or taking pupils for money. Being thus enabled to prosecute letters and philosophy in an independent way, he did not, like Plato and Aristotle, open a school.16 His relations, as active coadjutor and subordinate, with Agesilaus, form a striking contrast to those of Plato with Dionysius, as tutor and pedagogue. In his mind, the Sokratic conversations, suggestive and stimulating to every one, fell upon the dispositions and aptitudes of a citizen-soldier, and fructified in a peculiar manner. My present work deals with Xenophon, not as an historian of Grecian affairs or of the Cyreian expedition, but only on the intellectual and theorising side:—as author of the Memorabilia, the Cyropædia, Œkonomikus, Symposion, Hieron, De Vectigalibus, &c.

His various works — Memorabilia, Œkonomikus, &c.

The Memorabilia were composed as records of the conversations of Sokrates, expressly intended to vindicate Sokrates against charges of impiety and of corrupting youthful minds, and to show that he inculcated, before every thing, self-denial, moderation of desires, reverence for parents, and worship of the Gods. The Œkonomikus and the Symposion are expansions of the Memorabilia: the first17 exhibiting Sokrates not only as an attentive observer of the facts of active life (in which character the Memorabilia present him also), but even as a learner of husbandry18 and family management from Ischomachus — the last describing Sokrates and his behaviour amidst the fun and joviality of a convivial company. Sokrates declares19 that as to himself, though poor, he is quite as rich as he desires to be; that he desires no increase, and regards poverty as no disadvantage. Yet since Kratobulus, though rich, is beset with temptations to expense quite sufficient to embarrass him, good proprietary management is to him a necessity. Accordingly, Sokrates, announcing that he has always been careful to inform himself who were the best economists in the city,20 now cites as authority Ischomachus, a citizen of wealth and high position, recognised by all as one of the “super-excellent”.21 Ischomachus loves wealth, and is anxious to maintain and even enlarge his property: desiring to spend magnificently for the honour of the Gods, the assistance of friends, and the support of the city.22 His whole life is arranged, with intelligence and forethought, so as to attain this object, and at the same time to keep up the maximum of bodily health and vigour, especially among the horsemen of the city as an accomplished rider23 and cavalry soldier. He speaks with respect, and almost with enthusiasm, of husbandry, as an occupation not merely profitable, but improving to the character: though he treats with disrespect other branches of industry and craft.24 In regard to husbandry, too, as in regard to war or steersmanship, he affirms that the difference between one practitioner and another consists, not so much in unequal knowledge, as in unequal care to practise what both of them know.25

Ischomachus, hero of the Œkonomikus — ideal of an active citizen, cultivator, husband, house-master, &c.

Ischomachus describes to Sokrates, in reply to a string of successive questions, both his scheme of life and his scheme of husbandry. He had married his wife before she was fifteen years of age: having first ascertained that she had been brought up carefully, so as to have seen and heard as little as possible, and to know nothing but spinning and weaving.26 He describes how he took this very young wife into training, so as to form her to the habits which he himself approved. He declares that the duties and functions of women are confined to in-door work and superintendence, while the out-door proceedings, acquisition as well as defence, belong to men:27 he insists upon such separation of functions emphatically, as an ordinance of nature — holding an opinion the direct reverse of that which we have seen expressed by Plato.28 He makes many remarks on the arrangements of the house, and of the stores within it: and he dwells particularly on the management of servants, male and female.

Text upon which Xenophon insists — capital difference between command over subordinates willing, and subordinates unwilling.

It is upon this last point that he lays more stress than upon any other. To know how to command men — is the first of all accomplishments in the mind of Xenophon. Ischomachus proclaims it as essential that the superior shall not merely give orders to his subordinates, but also see them executed, and set the example of personal active watchfulness in every way. Xenophon aims at securing not simply obedience, but cheerful and willing obedience — even attachment from those who obey. “To exercise command over willing subjects”29 (he says) “is a good more than human, granted only to men truly consummated in virtue of character essentially divine. To exercise command over unwilling subjects, is a torment like that of Tantalus.”

Probable circumstances generating these reflections in Xenophon’s mind.

The sentence just transcribed (the last sentence in the Œkonomikus) brings to our notice a central focus in Xenophon’s mind, from whence many of his most valuable speculations emanate. “What are the conditions under which subordinates will cheerfully obey their commanders?” — was a problem forced upon his thoughts by his own personal experience, as well as by contemporary phenomena in Hellas. He had been elected one of the generals of the Ten Thousand: a large body of brave warriors from different cities, most of them unknown to him personally, and inviting his authority only because they were in extreme peril, and because no one else took the initiative.30 He discharged his duties admirably: and his ready eloquence was an invaluable accomplishment, distinguishing him from all his colleagues. Nevertheless when the army arrived at the Euxine, out of the reach of urgent peril, he was made to feel sensibly the vexations of authority resting upon such precarious basis, and perpetually traversed by jealous rivals. Moreover, Xenophon, besides his own personal experience, had witnessed violent political changes running extensively through the cities of the Grecian world: first, at the close of the Peloponnesian war — next, after the battle of Knidus — again, under Lacedæmonian supremacy, after the peace of Antalkidas, and the subsequent seizure of the citadel of Thebes — lastly, after the Thebans had regained their freedom and humbled the Lacedæmonians by the battle of Leuktra. To Xenophon — partly actor, partly spectator — these political revolutions were matters of anxious interest; especially as he ardently sympathised with Agesilaus, a political partisan interested in most of them, either as conservative or revolutionary.

This text affords subjects for the Hieron and Cyropædia — Name of Sokrates not suitable.

Hieron — Persons of the dialogue — Simonides and Hieron.

The Hieron gives no indication of date: but as a picture purely Hellenic, it deserves precedence over the Cyropædia, and conveys to my mind the impression of having been written earlier. It describes a supposed conversation (probably suggested by current traditional conversations, like that between Solon and Krœsus) between the poet Simonides and Hieron the despot of Syracuse; who, shortly after the Persian invasion of Greece by Xerxes, had succeeded his brother Gelon the former despot.31 Both of them had been once private citizens, of no remarkable consequence: but Gelon, an energetic and ambitious military man, having raised himself to power in the service of Hippokrates despot of Gela, had seized the sceptre on the death of his master: after which he conquered Syracuse, and acquired a formidable dominion, enjoyed after his death by his brother Hieron. This last was a great patron of eminent poets — Pindar, Simonides, Æschylus, Bacchylides: but he laboured under a painful internal complaint, and appears to have been of an irritable and oppressive temper.32

Questions put to Hieron; view taken by Simonides. Answer of Hieron.

Simonides asks of Hieron, who had personally tried both the life of a private citizen and that of a despot, which of the two he considered preferable, in regard to pleasures and pains. Upon this subject, a conversation of some length ensues, in which Hieron declares that the life of a despot has much more pain, and much less pleasure, than that of a private citizen under middling circumstances:33 while Simonides takes the contrary side, and insists in detail upon the superior means of enjoyment, apparent at least, possessed by the despot. As each of these means is successively brought forward, Hieron shews that however the matter may appear to the spectator, the despot feels no greater real happiness in his own bosom: while he suffers many pains and privations, of which the spectator takes no account. As to the pleasures of sight, the despot forfeits altogether the first and greatest, because it is unsafe for him to visit the public festivals and matches. In regard to hearing — many praises, and no reproach, reach his ears: but then he knows that the praises are insincere — and that reproach is unheard, only because speakers dare not express what they really feel. The despot has finer cookery and richer unguents; but others enjoy a modest banquet as much or more — while the scent of the unguents pleases those who are near him more than himself.34 Then as to the pleasures of love, these do not exist, except where the beloved person manifests spontaneous sympathy and return of attachment. Now the despot can never extort such return by his power; while even if it be granted freely, he cannot trust its sincerity and is compelled even to be more on his guard, since successful conspiracies against his life generally proceed from those who profess attachment to him.35 The private citizen on the contrary knows that those who profess to love him, may be trusted, as having no motive for falsehood.

Misery of governing unwilling subjects declared by Hieron.

Still (contends Simonides) there are other pleasures greater than those of sense. You despots possess the greatest abundance and variety of possessions — the finest chariots and horses, the most splendid arms, the finest palaces, ornaments, and furniture — the most brilliant ornaments for your wives — the most intelligent and valuable servants. You execute the greatest enterprises: you can do most to benefit your friends, and hurt your enemies: you have all the proud consciousness of superior might.36 — Such is the opinion of the multitude (replies Hieron), who are misled by appearances: but a wise man like you, Simonides, ought to see the reality in the background, and to recollect that happiness or unhappiness reside only in a man’s internal feelings. You cannot but know that a despot lives in perpetual insecurity, both at home and abroad: that he must always go armed himself, and have armed guards around him: that whether at war or at peace, he is always alike in danger: that, while suspecting every one as an enemy, he nevertheless knows that when he has put to death the persons suspected, he has only weakened the power of the city:37 that he has no sincere friendship with any one: that he cannot count even upon good faith, and must cause all his food to be tasted by others, before he eats it: that whoever has slain a private citizen, is shunned in Grecian cities as an abomination — while the tyrannicide is everywhere honoured and recompensed: that there is no safety for the despot even in his own family, many having been killed by their nearest relatives:38 that he is compelled to rely upon mercenary foreign soldiers and liberated slaves, against the free citizens who hate him: and that the hire of such inauspicious protectors compels him to raise money, by despoiling individuals and plundering temples:39 that the best and most estimable citizens are incurably hostile to him, while none but the worst will serve him for pay: that he looks back with bitter sorrow to the pleasures and confidential friendships which he enjoyed as a private man, but from which he is altogether debarred as a despot.40

Nothing brings a man so near to the Gods (rejoins Simonides) as the feeling of being honoured. Power and a brilliant position must be of inestimable value, if they are worth purchasing at the price which you describe.41 Otherwise, why do you not throw up your sceptre? How happens it that no despot has ever yet done this? To be honoured (answers Hieron) is the greatest of earthly blessings, when a man obtains honour from the spontaneous voice of freemen. But a despot enjoys no such satisfaction. He lives like a criminal under sentence of death by every one: and it is impossible for him to lay down his power, because of the number of persons whom he has been obliged to make his enemies. He can neither endure his present condition, nor yet escape from it. The best thing he can do is to hang himself.42

Advice to Hieron by Simonides — that he should govern well, and thus make himself beloved by his subjects.

Simonides in reply, after sympathising with Hieron’s despondency, undertakes to console him by showing that such consequences do not necessarily attend despotic rule. The despot’s power is an instrument available for good as well as for evil. By a proper employment of it, he may not only avoid being hated, but may even make himself beloved, beyond the measure attainable by any private citizen. Even kind words, and petty courtesies, are welcomed far more eagerly when they come from a powerful man than from an equal: moreover a showy and brilliant exterior seldom fails to fascinate the spectator.43 But besides this, the despot may render to his city the most substantial and important services. He may punish criminals and reward meritorious men: the punishments he ought to inflict by the hands of others, while he will administer the rewards in person — giving prizes for superior excellence in every department, and thus endearing himself to all.44 Such prizes would provoke a salutary competition in the performance of military duties, in choric exhibitions, in husbandry, commerce, and public usefulness of every kind. Even the foreign mercenaries, though usually odious, might be so handled and disciplined as to afford defence against foreign danger, — to ensure for the citizens undisturbed leisure in their own private affairs — to protect and befriend the honest man, and to use force only against criminals.45 If thus employed, such mercenaries, instead of being hated, would be welcome companions: and the despot himself may count, not only upon security against attack, but upon the warmest gratitude and attachment. The citizens will readily furnish contributions to him when asked, and will regard him as their greatest benefactor. “You will obtain in this way” (Simonides thus concludes his address to Hieron), “the finest and most enviable of all acquisitions. You will have your subjects obeying you willingly, and caring for you of their own accord. You may travel safely wherever you please, and will be a welcome visitor at all the crowded festivals. You will be happy, without jealousy from any one.”46

Probable experience had by Xenophon of the feelings at Olympia against Dionysius.

The dialogue of which I have given this short abstract, illustrates what Xenophon calls the torment of Tantalus — the misery of a despot who has to extort obedience from unwilling subjects:—especially if the despot be one who has once known the comfort and security of private life, under tolerably favourable circumstances. If we compare this dialogue with the Platonic Gorgias, where we have seen a thesis very analogous handled in respect to Archelaus, — we shall find Plato soaring into a sublime ethical region of his own, measuring the despot’s happiness and misery by a standard peculiar to himself, and making good what he admits to be a paradox by abundant eloquence covering faulty dialectic: while Xenophon, herein following his master, applies to human life the measure of a rational common sense, talks about pleasures and pains which every one can feel to be such, and points out how many of these pleasures the despot forfeits, how many of these pains and privations he undergoes, — in spite of that great power of doing hurt, and less power, though still considerable, of doing good, which raises the envy of spectators. The Hieron gives utterance to an interesting vein of sentiment, more common at Athens than elsewhere in Greece; enforced by the conversation of Sokrates, and serving as corrective protest against that unqualified worship of power which prevailed in the ancient world no less than in the modern. That the Syrakusan Hieron should be selected as an exemplifying name, may be explained by the circumstance, that during thirty-eight years of Xenophon’s mature life (405-367 B.C.), Dionysius the elder was despot of Syrakuse; a man of energy and ability, who had extinguished the liberties of his native city, and acquired power and dominion greater than that of any living Greek. Xenophon, resident at Skillus, within a short distance from Olympia, had probably47 seen the splendid Thêory (or sacred legation of representative envoys) installed in rich and ornamented tents, and the fine running horses sent by Dionysius, at the ninety-ninth Olympic festival (384 B.C.): but he probably also heard the execration with which the name of Dionysius himself had been received by the spectators, and he would feel that the despot could hardly shew himself there in person. There were narratives in circulation about the interior life of Dionysius,48 analogous to those statements which Xenophon puts into the mouth of Hieron. A predecessor of Dionysius as despot of Syracuse49 and also as patron of poets, was therefore a suitable person to choose for illustrating the first part of Xenophon’s thesis — the countervailing pains and penalties which spoilt all the value of power, if exercised over unwilling and repugnant subjects.50