ed, in the hearing of the whole army, that Cambyses, son of
Cyrus, had ceased to reign, and that the allegiance of all Persian
subjects was henceforth to be paid to Smerdis, son of Cyrus. At first,
it is said, Cambyses thought that his instrument had played him false,
and that his brother was alive and had actually seized the throne; but
the assurances of the suspected person, and a suggestion which he made,
convinced him of the contrary, and gave him a clue to the real solution
of the mystery. Prexaspes, the nobleman inculpated, knew that the
so-called Smerdis must be an impostor, and suggested his identity with
a certain Magus, whose brother had been intrusted by Cambyses with the
general direction of his household and the care of the palace. He was
probably led to make the suggestion by his knowledge of the resemblance
borne by this person to the murdered prince, which was sufficiently
close to make personation possible. Cambyses was thus enabled to
appreciate the gravity of the crisis, and to consider whether he could
successfully contend with it or no. Apparently, he decided in the
negative. Believing that he could not triumph over the conspiracy
which had decreed his downfall, and unwilling to descend to a private
station--perhaps even uncertain whether his enemies would spare his
life--he resolved to fly to the last refuge of a dethroned king, and
to end all by suicide. Drawing his short sword from its sheath, he gave
himself a wound, of which he died in a few days.

It is certainly surprising that the king formed this resolution. He
was at the head of an army, returning from an expedition, which, if
not wholly successful, had at any rate added to the empire an important
province. His father's name was a tower of strength; and if he could
only have exposed the imposture that had been practised on them,
he might have counted confidently on rallying the great mass of the
Persians to his cause. How was it that he did not advance on the
capital, and at least strike one blow for empire? No clear and decided
response can be made to this inquiry; but we may indistinctly discern
a number of causes which may have combined to produce in the monarch's
mind the feeling of despondency whereto he gave way. Although he
returned from Egypt a substantial conqueror, his laurel wreath was
tarnished by ill-success; his army, weakened by its losses, and
dispirited by its failures, was out of heart; it had no trust in
his capacity as