and simple tactics, and the use of siege-engines, and the duties of staff-officers, and military punctilio â the lesser rather than the greater arts of war. The greater arts are strategy, and the use of civil power and politics to assist military aims, and especially the art in which Belisarius learned to excel â the art of inspiring the love and confidence and obedience of his troops and so making good soldiers out of rabble. Belisarius held strategy to be a sort of applied geography, and in later years spent a deal of money on supplying himself with accurate maps: he had a professional map-maker, an Egyptian, always attached to his staff.
Belisarius used to say also that the training that he had been given at Malthusâs school in accountancy and rhetoric and law had been of the utmost use to him: for Government officials, who excel in these civilian arts and are always very clannish, enjoy making fools of barbarian military commanders, whose chief qualities are courage, horsemanship, and skill with the lance or bow. He let them see that he was no barbarian, in spite of his name and in spite of his feats in hand-to-hand fighting, to which the smallness or cowardice of the forces at his disposal sometimes unwillingly reduced him. He would often call for the account-books of men under his command and, if there was a discrepancy anywhere, would point it out gravely, like a schoolmaster. In ordinary matters of law, too, such as the rules of procedure in a civil court and the rights of various classes of citizens and allies, he was not easily deceived by professional lawyers. Again, he knew enough rhetoric to be able to present a case simply and cogently, and not to be misled by ingenious arguments. For this he acknowledged a heavy debt to Malthus, who cared little for far-fetched allusions and fanciful tropes and Athenian traps and predicaments of logic. And it was a saying of Malthusâs that a few well-armed words in disciplined formation would always prevail against words crowding along in enthusiastic disorganized mass.
On the first day of his attendance at school, Belisarius did not arrive in the early morning at seven oâclock, which was the usual hour, but shortly after noon, during the hour of intermission, when the boys were eating their luncheons in the schoolyard â such of them at leastas did not live near by, so that they could go home quickly and eat and return. Now, it happened that in Adrianople it was not the custom, as at Constantinople and Rome and Athens and the great cities of Asia Minor, for a boy to come to school accompanied by a tutor as well as by a slave carrying his satchel of books for him. Even satchel-slaves were rare at this school. Thus the boys mistakenly thought that Belisarius must be the coddled sort of rich boy, since he came into the schoolyard with Palaeologus at his side, and Armenian John half a pace behind, and Andreas in attendance with the satchel.
One biggish lad, whose name was Uliaris, pointing at the venerable Palaeologus, called out: âTell me, bullies, is this grandfather bringing his grandchildren to our school to learn his
hic, haec, hoc
â or is it contrariwise?â
As they crowded round, munching their bread and fruit and hard-boiled eggs, a boy who had remained behind happened to throw a fig at Uliaris, to tease him. The fig was soft and sour with the heat, and seemed fatally destined for use as a missile. It narrowly missed Uliaris, but burst on the shoulder of Palaeologusâs gown, which was fresh from the fullerâs and of particularly fine woollen cloth. Then a louder laughter still arose; but immediately Belisarius ran angrily throught the crowd of boys, and stooped to pick up a large, round stone which some of them had been trundling backwards and forwards on the smooth flags of the yard; and, before the boy who had thrown the fig realized what was happening, Belisarius had rushed towards the bench and struck him on the head