[In the following excerpt, Pretor prefaces his translation of Xenophon's Anabasis with comments on the author's limitations, including a tendency to be dry and "slovenly."]

In the subject of his history Xenophon is fortunate beyond the majority of authors. The interest excited by the circumstances of the expedition and the desire to learn something of the unknown land through which the travellers made their way: above all, the dangers consequent upon the undertaking and the unparalleled bravery by which they were surmounted would have made the work acceptable, even if the shortcomings of the historian had been of a more decided kind. It is true that to one class of readers the Anabasis will present but few attractions, and the student who expects to find in its records the brilliant descriptions of life and scenery which illustrate the path of modern exploration will inevitably be disappointed. It was the Fortunes of the Ten Thousand which Xenophon had undertaken to describe, and he has confined himself even too literally within the limits of his task. Of the physical characteristics of the countries through which he passed and of the tribes by which they were inhabited the information he affords us is of the scantiest and most meagre kind: indeed, if it were not for the frequent recurrence of barbaric names, the reader might easily persuade himself that the course of the Expedition had never passed beyond the shores of Greece.

Of the grand and beautiful in nature Xenophon shews not the faintest appreciation. It is true that he shares this failing—if failing it be—in common with most of the historians of antiquity. We must remember, however, that few, if any, can have had the same opportunities of witnessing Nature in all her moods, and it is at least remarkable that our author should allow no word to escape him of surprise or admiration at the scenes with which he must necessarily have become acquainted.

The best characteristic of the Anabasis is unquestionably the simplicity and truth with which the tale is told; and simplicity, when it is not made the excuse for negligence and want of taste, is perhaps the very highest merit that can be looked for in a style. But with Xenophon simplicity too often degenerates into baldness, and an unartificial style becomes a slovenly one.