rom being an artless and
generous-minded child, he had become a calculating, ambitious, and
aspiring man, and he was preparing to take his part in the great
public contests and struggles of the day, with the same eagerness for
self-aggrandizement, and the same unconcern for the welfare and
happiness of others, which always characterizes the spirit of ambition
and love of power.

Although it is by no means certain that what Xenophon relates of his
visit to his grandfather Astyages is meant for a true narrative of
facts, it is not at all improbable that such a visit might have been
made, and that occurrences, somewhat similar, at least, to those which
his narrative records, may have taken place. It may seem strange to
the reader that a man who should, at one time, wish to put his
grandchild to death, should, at another, be disposed to treat him with
such a profusion of kindness and attention. There is nothing, however,
really extraordinary in this. Nothing is more fluctuating than the
caprice of a despot. Man, accustomed from infancy to govern those
around him by his own impetuous will, never learns self-control. He
gives himself up to the dominion of the passing animal emotions of the
hour. It may be jealousy, it may be revenge, it may be parental
fondness, it may be hate, it may be love--whatever the feeling is
that the various incidents of life, as they occur, or the influences,
irritating or exhilarating, which are produced by food or wine, awaken
in his mind, he follows its impulse blindly and without reserve. He
loads a favorite with kindness and caresses at one hour, and directs
his assassination the next. He imagines that his infant grandchild is
to become his rival, and he deliberately orders him to be left in a
gloomy forest alone, to die of cold and hunger. When the imaginary
danger has passed away, he seeks amusement in making the same
grandchild his plaything, and overwhelms him with favors bestowed
solely for the gratification of the giver, under the influence of an
affection almost as purely animal as that of a lioness for her young.

Favors of such a sort can awaken no permanent gratitude in any heart,
and thus it is quite possible that Cyrus might have evinced, during
the simple and guileless days of his childhood, a deep veneration and
affection for his grandfather, and yet, in subsequent years, when he
had arrived at full maturity, have learned to regard him simply in the
light of a great political po