been satisfied as to the essentials of historical evidence.  The narrative given by Herodotus of the relations between Cyrus and Astyages, agreeing with Xenophon in little more than the fact that it makes Cyrus son of Cambyses and Mandane and grandson of Astyages, goes even beyond the story of Romulus and Remus in respect to tragical incident and contrast.  Astyages, alarmed by a dream, condemns the newborn infant of his daughter Mandane to be exposed:  Harpagus, to whom the order is given, delivers the child to one of the royal herdsmen, who exposes it in the mountains, where it is miraculously suckled by a bitch.  Thus preserved, and afterward brought up as the herdsman’s child, Cyrus manifests great superiority, both physical and mental; is chosen king in play by the boys of the village, and in this capacity severely chastises the son of one of the courtiers; for which offense he is carried before Astyages, who recognizes him for his grandson, but is assured by the Magi that the dream is out and that he has no further danger to apprehend from the boy—­and therefore permits him to live.  With Harpagus, however, Astyages is extremely incensed, for not having executed his orders:  he causes the son of Harpagus to be slain, and served up to be eaten by his unconscious father at a regal banquet.  The father, apprised afterward of the fact, dissembles his feelings, but meditates a deadly vengeance against Astyages for this Thyestean meal.  He persuades Cyrus, who has been sent back to his father and mother in Persia, to head a revolt of the Persians against the Medes; whilst Astyages—­to fill up the Grecian conception of madness as a precursor to ruin—­sends an army against the revolters, commanded by Harpagus himself.  Of course the army is defeated—­Astyages, after a vain resistance, is dethroned—­Cyrus becomes king in his place—­and Harpagus repays the outrage which he has undergone by the bitterest insults.

Such are the heads of a beautiful narrative which is given at some length in Herodotus.  It will probably appear to the reader sufficiently romantic; though the historian intimates that he had heard three other narratives different from it, and that all were more full of marvels, as well as in wider circulation, than his own, which he had borrowed from some unusually sober-minded Persian informants.  In what points the other three stories departed from it we do not hear.

To the historian of Halicarnassus we have to oppose Ctesias—­the physician of the neighboring town of Cnidus—­who contradicted Herodotus, not without strong terms of censure, on many points, and especially upon that which is the very foundation of the early narrative respecting Cyrus; for he affirmed that Cyrus was no way related to Astyages.  However indignant we may be with Ctesias for the disparaging epithets which he presumed to apply to an historian whose work is to us inestimable—­we must nevertheless admit that, as surgeon in actual attendance on king Artaxerxes Mnemon, and healer of the wound inflicted on that prince at Cunaxa by his brother Cyrus the younger, he had better opportunities even than Herodotus of conversing with sober-minded Persians, and that the discrepancies between the two statements are to be taken as a proof of the prevalence of discordant, yet equally accredited, stories.  Herodotus himself was in fact compelled to choose one out of four.  So rare and late a plant is historical authenticity.