Complete Works of Xenophon (Illustrated) (Delphi Ancient Classics) (134 page)

“Upon my word,” said Theodote/, “I don’t contrive one of these things.”
[11]

“Nevertheless,” he continued, “it is very important that your behaviour to a man should be both natural and correct. For assuredly you can neither catch a friend nor keep him by violence; it is kindness and sweetness that catch the creature and hold him fast.”

“True,” she said.
[12]

“First, then, you must ask such favours of your suitors as they will grant without a moment’s hesitation; and next you must repay their favours in the same coin; for in this way they will prove most sincerely your friends, most constant in their affection and most generous.
[13]
And they will appreciate your favours most highly if you wait till they ask for them. The sweetest meats, you see, if served before they are wanted, seem sour, and to those who have had enough they are positively nauseating; but even poor fare is very welcome when offered to a hungry man.”
[14]

“And how can I make them hunger for my fare?”

“Why, in the first place, you must not offer it to them when they have had enough, nor prompt them until they have thrown off the surfeit and are beginning to want more; then, when they feel the want, you must prompt them by behaving as a model of propriety, by a show of reluctance to yield, and by holding back until they are as keen as can be; for then the same gifts are much more to the recipient than when they are offered before they are desired.”
[15]

“Then, Socrates,” exclaimed Theodote/, “why don’t you become my partner in the pursuit of friends?”

“By all means — if you persuade me.”

“And how am I to persuade you?”

“That you will find out and contrive for yourself, if you want my help.”

“Come and see me often, then.”
[16]

“Ah!” said Socrates, making fun of his own leisurely habits, “it’s not so easy for me to find time. For I have much business to occupy me, private and public; and I have the dear girls, who won’t leave me day or night; they are studying potions with me and spells.”
[17]

“Indeed! do you understand these things too, Socrates?”

“Why, what is the reason that master Apollodorus and Antisthenes never leave me, do you suppose? And why do Cebes and Simmias come to me from Thebes? I assure you these things don’t happen without the help of many potions and spells and magic wheels.”
[18]

“Do lend me your wheel, that I may turn it first to draw you.”

“But of course I don’t want to be drawn to you: I want you to come to me.”

“Oh, I’ll come: only mind you welcome me.”

“Oh, you shall be welcome — unless there’s a dearer girl with me!”

12.
On noticing that Epigenes, one of his companions, was in poor condition, for a young man, he said: “You look as if you need exercise, Epigenes.”

“Well,” he replied, “I’m not an athlete, Socrates.”

“Just as much as the competitors entered for Olympia,” he retorted. “Or do you count the life and death struggle with their enemies, upon which, it may be, the Athenians will enter, but a small thing?
[2]
Why, many, thanks to their bad condition, lose their life in the perils of war or save it disgracefully: many, just for this same cause, are taken prisoners, and then either pass the rest of their days, perhaps, in slavery of the hardest kind, or, after meeting with cruel sufferings and paying, sometimes, more than they have, live on, destitute and in misery. Many, again, by their bodily weakness earn infamy, being thought cowards.
[3]
Or do you despise these, the rewards of bad condition, and think that you can easily endure such things? And yet I suppose that what has to be borne by anyone who takes care to keep his body in good condition is far lighter and far pleasanter than these things. Or is it that you think bad condition healthier and generally more serviceable than good, or do you despise the effects of good condition?
[4]
And yet the results of physical fitness are the direct opposite of those that follow from unfitness. The fit are healthy and strong; and many, as a consequence, save themselves decorously on the battle-field and escape all the dangers of war; many help friends and do good to their country and for this cause earn gratitude; get great glory and gain very high honours, and for this cause live henceforth a pleasanter and better life, and leave to their children better means of winning a livelihood.
[5]

“I tell you, because military training is not publicly recognised by the state, you must not make that an excuse for being a whit less careful in attending to it yourself. For you may rest assured that there is no kind of struggle, apart from war, and no undertaking in which you will be worse off by keeping your body in better fettle. For in everything that men do the body is useful; and in all uses of the body it is of great importance to be in as high a state of physical efficiency as possible.
[6]
Why, even in the process of thinking, in which the use of the body seems to be reduced to a minimum, it is matter of common knowledge that grave mistakes may often be traced to bad health. And because the body is in a bad condition, loss of memory, depression, discontent, insanity often assail the mind so violently as to drive whatever knowledge it contains clean out of it.
[7]
But a sound and healthy body is a strong protection to a man, and at least there is no danger then of such a calamity happening to him through physical weakness: on the contrary, it is likely that his sound condition will serve to produce effects the opposite of those that arise from bad condition. And surely a man of sense would submit to anything to obtain the effects that are the opposite of those mentioned in my list.
[8]

“Besides, it is a disgrace to grow old through sheer carelessness before seeing what manner of man you may become by developing your bodily strength and beauty to their highest limit. But you cannot see that, if you are careless; for it will not come of its own accord.”

13.
On a man who was angry because his greeting was not returned: “Ridiculous!” he exclaimed; “you would not have been angry if you had met a man in worse health; and yet you are annoyed because you have come across someone with ruder manners!”
[2]

On another who declared that he found no pleasure in eating: “Acumenus,” he said, “has a good prescription for that ailment.” And when asked “What?” he answered, “Stop eating; and you will then find life pleasanter, cheaper, and healthier.”
[3]

On yet another who complained that the drinking water at home was warm: “Consequently,” he said, “when you want warm water to wash in, you will have it at hand.”

“But it’s too cold for washing,” objected the other.

“Then do your servants complain when they use it both for drinking and washing?”

“Oh no: indeed I have often felt surprised that they are content with it for both these purposes.”

“Which is the warmer to drink, the water in your house or Epidaurus water?”

“Epidaurus water.”

“And which is the colder to wash in, yours or Oropus water?”

“Oropus water.”

“Then reflect that you are apparently harder to please than servants and invalids.”
[4]

When someone punished his footman severely, he asked why he was angry with his man.

“Because he’s a glutton and he’s a fool,” said the other: “he’s rapacious and he’s lazy.”

“Have you ever considered, then, which deserves the more stripes, the master or the man?”
[5]

When someone was afraid of the journey to Olympia, he said:

“Why do you fear the distance? When you are at home, don’t you spend most of the day in walking about? on your way there you will take a walk before lunch, and another before dinner, and then take a rest. Don’t you know that if you put together the walks you take in five or six days, you can easily cover the distance from Athens to Olympia? It is more comfortable, too, to start a day early rather than a day late, since to be forced to make the stages of the journey unduly long is unpleasant; but to take a day extra on the way makes easy going. So it is better to hurry over the start than on the road.”
[6]

When another said that he was worn out after a long journey, he asked him whether he had carried a load.

“Oh no,” said the man; “only my cloak.”

“Were you alone, or had you a footman with you?”

“I had.”

“Empty-handed or carrying anything?”

“He carried the rugs and the rest of the baggage, of course.”

“And how has he come out of the journey?”

“Better than I, so far as I can tell.”

“Well then, if you had been forced to carry his load, how would you have felt, do you suppose?”

“Bad, of course; or rather, I couldn’t have done it.”

“Indeed! do you think a trained man ought to be so much less capable of work than his slave?”

14.
Whenever some of the members of a dining-club brought more meat than others, Socrates would tell the waiter either to put the small contribution into the common stock or to portion it out equally among the diners. So the high batteners felt obliged not only to take their share of the pool, but to pool their own supplies in return; and so they put their own supplies also into the common stock. And since they thus got no more than those who brought little with them, they gave up spending much on meat.
[2]

He observed on one occasion that one of the company at dinner had ceased to take bread, and ate the meat by itself. Now the talk was of names and the actions to which they are properly applied. “Can we say, my friends,” said Socrates, “what is the nature of the action for which a man is called greedy? For all, I presume, eat meat with their bread when they get the chance: but I don’t think there is so far any reason for calling them greedy?”

“No, certainly not,” said one of the company.
[3]

“Well, suppose he eats the meat alone, without the bread, not because he’s in training, but to tickle his palate, does he seem a greedy fellow or not?”

“If not, it’s hard to say who does,” was the reply.

Here another of the company queried, “And he who eats a scrap of bread with a large helping of meat?”

“He too seems to me to deserve the epithet,” said Socrates. “Aye, and when others pray for a good wheat harvest, he, presumably, would pray for a good meat supply.”
[4]

The young man, guessing that these remarks of Socrates applied to him, did not stop eating his meat, but took some bread with it. When Socrates observed this, he cried: “Watch the fellow, you who are near him, and see whether he treats the bread as his meat or the meat as his bread.”
[5]

On another occasion he noticed one of the company at dinner tasting several dishes with each bite of bread. “Can you imagine,” he asked, “a meal more extravagant and more ruinous to the victuals than his who eats many things together, and crams all sorts of sauces into his mouth at once? At any rate by mixing more ingredients than the cooks, he adds to the cost, and since he mixes ingredients that they regard as unsuitable in a mixture, if they are right, then he is wrong and is ruining their art.
[6]
Yet it is surely ridiculous for a master to obtain highly skilled cooks, and then, though he claims no knowledge of the art, to alter their confections? There’s another drawback, too, attaching to the habit of eating many things together. For if many dishes are not provided, one seems to go short because one misses the usual variety: whereas he who is accustomed to take one kind of meat along with one bit of bread can make the best of one dish when more are not forthcoming.”
[7]

He used to say too that the term “good feeding” in Attic was a synonym for “eating.” The “good” in the compound implied the eating of food that could harm neither body nor soul and was not hard to come by. Thus he attributed even good feeding to sober livers.

BOOK IV.

1.
Socrates was so useful in all circumstances and in all ways, that any observer gifted with ordinary perception can see that nothing was more useful than the companionship of Socrates, and time spent with him in any place and in any circumstances. The very recollection of him in absence brought no small good to his constant companions and followers; for even in his light moods they gained no less from his society than when he was serious.
[2]

Thus he would often say he was “in love”; but clearly his heart was set not on those who were fair to outward view, but on those whose souls excelled in goodness. These excellent beings he recognised by their quickness to learn whatever subject they studied, ability to remember what they learned, and desire for every kind of knowledge on which depend good management of a household and estate and tactful dealing with men and the affairs of men. For education would make such beings not only happy in themselves, and successful in the management of their households, but capable of conferring happiness on their fellow-men and on states alike. His method of approach varied.
[3]
To those who thought themselves possessed of natural endowments and despised learning, he explained that the greater the natural gifts, the greater is the need of education; pointing out that thoroughbreds by their spirit and mettle develop into serviceable and splendid creatures, if they are broken in as colts, but if unbroken, prove intractable and sorry jades; and high-bred puppies, keen workers and good tacklers of game, make first-rate hounds and useful dogs, if well trained, but, if untrained, turn out stupid, crazy, disobedient brutes. It is the same with human beings.
[4]
The most highly gifted, the youths of ardent soul, capable of doing whatever they attempt, if educated and taught their duty grow into excellent and useful men; for manifold and great are their good deeds. But untrained and untaught, these same become utterly evil and mischievous; for without knowledge to discern their duty, they often put their hand to vile deeds, and through the very grandeur and vehemence of their nature, they are uncontrollable and intractable: therefore manifold and great are their evil deeds.
[5]