Complete Works of Xenophon (Illustrated) (Delphi Ancient Classics) (146 page)

14.
“‘Now, Ischomachus,’ said I, ‘when you find your man so competent to rule that he can make them obedient, do you think him a perfect bailiff, or does he want anything else, even with the qualifications you have mentioned?’
[2]

“‘Of course, Socrates,’ returned Ischomachus, ‘he must be honest and not touch his master’s property. For if the man who handles the crops dares to make away with them, and doesn’t leave enough to give a profit on the undertaking, what good can come of farming under his management?’
[3]

“‘Then do you take it on yourself to teach this kind of justice too?’

“‘Certainly: I don’t find, however, that all readily pay heed to this lesson.
[4]
Nevertheless I guide the servants into the path of justice with the aid of maxims drawn from the laws of Draco and Solon. For it seems to me that these famous men enacted many of their laws with an eye on this particular kind of justice.
[5]
For it is written: “thieves shall be fined for their thefts,” and “anyone guilty of attempt shall be imprisoned if taken in the act, and put to death.” The object of these enactments was clearly to make covetousness unprofitable to the offender.
[6]
By applying some of these clauses and other enactments found in the Persian king’s code, I try to make my servants upright in the matters that pass through their hands.
[7]
For while those laws only penalise the wrongdoer, the king’s code not only punishes the guilty, but also benefits the upright. Thus, seeing that the honest grow richer than the dishonest, many, despite their love of lucre, are careful to remain free from dishonesty.
[8]
And if I find any attempting to persist in dishonesty, although they are well treated, I regard them as incorrigibly greedy, and have nothing more to do with them.
[9]
On the other hand, if I discover that a man is inclined to be honest not only because he gains by his honesty, but also from a desire to win my approbation, I treat him like a free man by making him rich; and not only so, but I honour him as a gentleman.
[10]
For I think, Socrates, that the difference between ambition and greed consists in this, that for the sake of praise and honour the ambitious are willing to work properly, to take risks and refrain from dishonest gain.’”

15.
“‘Well, well, I won’t go on to ask whether anything more is wanting to your man, after you have implanted in him a desire for your prosperity and have made him also careful to see that you achieve it, and have obtained for him, besides, the knowledge needful to ensure that every piece of work done shall add to the profits, and, further, have made him capable of ruling, and when, besides all this, he takes as much delight in producing heavy crops for you in due season as you would take if you did the work yourself. For it seems to me that a man like that would make a very valuable bailiff. Nevertheless, Ischomachus, don’t leave a gap in that part of the subject to which we have given the most cursory attention.’

“‘Which is it?’ asked Ischomachus.
[2]

“‘You said, you know, that the greatest lesson to learn is how things ought to be done; and added that, if a man is ignorant what to do and how to do it, no good can come of his management.’
[3]

“Then he said, ‘Socrates, are you insisting now that I should teach the whole art and mystery of agriculture?’

“‘Yes,’ said I; ‘for maybe it is just this that makes rich men of those who understand it, and condemns the ignorant to a life of penury, for all their toil.’
[4]

“‘Well, Socrates, you shall now hear how kindly a thing is this art. Helpful, pleasant, honourable, dear to gods and men in the highest degree, it is also in the highest degree easy to learn. Noble qualities surely! As you know, we call those creatures noble that are beautiful, great and helpful, and yet gentle towards men.’
[5]

“‘Ah, but I think, Ischomachus, that I quite understand your account of these matters — I mean how to teach a bailiff; for I think I follow your statement that you make him loyal to you, and careful and capable of ruling and honest.
[6]
But you said that one who is to be successful in the management of a farm must learn what to do and how and when to do it. That is the subject that we have treated, it seems to me, in a rather cursory fashion,
[7]
as if you said that anyone who is to be capable of writing from dictation and reading what is written must know the alphabet. For had I been told that, I should have been told, to be sure, that I must know the alphabet, but I don’t think that piece of information would help me to know it.
[8]
So too now; I am easily convinced that a man who is to manage a farm successfully must understand farming, but that knowledge doesn’t help me to understand how to farm.
[9]
Were I to decide this very moment to be a farmer, I think I should be like that doctor who goes round visiting the sick, but has no knowledge of the right way to treat them. Therefore, that I may not be like him, you must teach me the actual operations of farming.’
[10]

“‘Why, Socrates, farming is not troublesome to learn, like other arts, which the pupil must study till he is worn out before he can earn his keep by his work. Some things you can understand by watching men at work, others by just being told, well enough to teach another if you wish. And I believe that you know a good deal about it yourself, without being aware of the fact.
[11]
The truth is that, whereas other artists conceal more or less the most important points in their own art, the farmer who plants best is most pleased when he is being watched, so is he who sows best. Question him about any piece of work well done: and he will tell you exactly how he did it.
[12]
So farming, Socrates, more than any other calling, seems to produce a generous disposition in its followers.’
[13]

“‘An excellent preamble,’ I cried, ‘and not of a sort to damp the hearer’s curiosity. Come, describe it to me, all the more because it is so simple to learn. For it is no disgrace to you to teach elementary lessons, but far more a disgrace to me not to understand them, especially if they are really useful.’”

16.
“‘First then, Socrates, I want to show you that what is called the most complicated problem in agriculture by the authors who write most accurately on the theory of the subject, but are not practical farmers, is really a simple matter.
[2]
For they tell us that to be a successful farmer one must first know the nature of the soil.’

“‘Yes, and they are right,’ I remarked; ‘for if you don’t know what the soil is capable of growing, you can’t know, I suppose, what to plant or what to sow.’
[3]

“‘Well then,’ said Ischomachus, ‘you can tell by looking at the crops and trees on another man’s land what the soil can and what it cannot grow. But when you have found out, it is useless to fight against the gods. For you are not likely to get a better yield from the land by sowing and planting what you want instead of the crops and trees that the land prefers.
[4]
If it happens that the land does not declare its own capabilities because the owners are lazy, you can often gather more correct information from a neighbouring plot than from a neighbouring proprietor.
[5]
Yes, and even if the land lies waste, it reveals its nature. For if the wild stuff growing on the land is of fine quality, then by good farming the soil is capable of yielding cultivated crops of fine quality. So the nature of the soil can be ascertained even by the novice who has no experience of farming.’
[6]

“‘Well, I think I am now confident, Ischomachus, that I need not avoid farming from fear of not knowing the nature of the soil.
[7]
The fact is, I am reminded that fishermen, though their business is in the sea, and they neither stop the boat to take a look nor slow down, nevertheless, when they see the crops as they scud past the farms, do not hesitate to express an opinion about the land, which is the good and which is the bad sort, now condemning, now praising it. And, what is more, I notice that in their opinion about the good land they generally agree exactly with experienced farmers.’
[8]

“‘Then, Socrates, let me refresh your memory on the subject of agriculture; but where do you wish me to begin? For I am aware that I shall tell you very much that you know already about the right method of farming.’
[9]

“‘First, Ischomachus, I think I should be glad to learn, for this is the philosopher’s way, how I am to cultivate the land if I want to get the heaviest crops of wheat and barley out of it.’
[10]

“‘Well, you know, I take it, that fallow must be prepared for sowing?’

“‘Yes, I know.’
[11]

“‘Suppose, then, we start ploughing in winter?’

“‘Why, the land will be a bog!’

“‘How about starting in summer?’

“‘The land will be hard to plough up.’
[12]

“‘It seems that spring is the season for beginning this work.’

“‘Yes, the land is likely to be more friable if it is broken up then.’

“‘Yes, and the grass turned up is long enough at that season to serve as manure, but, not having shed seed, it will not grow.
[13]
You know also, I presume, that fallow land can’t be satisfactory unless it is clear of weeds and thoroughly baked in the sun?’

“‘Yes, certainly; that is essential, I think.’
[14]

“‘Do you think that there is any better way of securing that than by turning the land over as often as possible in summer?’

“‘Nay, I know for certain that if you want the weeds to lie on the surface and wither in the heat, and the land to be baked by the sun, the surest way is to plough it up at midday in midsummer.’
[15]

“‘And if men prepare the fallow by digging, is it not obvious that they too must separate the weeds from the soil?’

“‘Yes, and they must throw the weeds on the surface to wither, and turn up the ground so that the lower spit may be baked.’”

17.
“‘You see, then, Socrates, that we agree about the fallow.’

“‘It does seem so, to be sure.’

“‘And now as to the time for sowing, Socrates. Is it not your opinion that the time to sow is that which has been invariably found to be the best by past experience, and is universally approved by present practice?
[2]
For as soon as autumn ends, all men, I suppose, look anxiously to God, to see when he will send rain on the earth and make them free to sow.’

“‘Yes, Ischomachus, all men have made up their minds, of course, not to sow in dry ground if they can help it, those who sowed without waiting to be bidden by God having had to wrestle with many losses.’
[3]

“‘So far, then,’ said Ischomachus, ‘all the world is of one mind.’

“‘Yes,’ said I, ‘where God is our teacher we all come to think alike. For example, all agree that it is better to wear warm clothes in winter, if they can, and all agree on the desirability of having a fire, if they have wood.’
[4]

“‘But,’ said Ischomachus, ‘when we come to the question whether sowing is best done early or very late or at the mid-season, we find much difference of opinion, Socrates.’ by fixed laws; but in one year it may be advantageous to sow early, in another very late, in another at mid-season.’
[5]

“‘Then do you think, Socrates, that it is better to select one of these times for sowing, whether you sow much or little, or to begin at the earliest moment and continue sowing to the latest?’
[6]

“‘For my part, Ischomachus, I think it is best to sow for succession throughout the season. For in my opinion it is much better to get enough food at all times than too much at one time and not enough at another.’

“‘Here again, then, Socrates, pupil and teacher are of one opinion; and, moreover, you, the pupil, are first in stating this opinion.’
[7]

“‘Well now, is casting the seed a complicated problem?’

“‘By all means let us take that also into consideration, Socrates. I presume that you know as well as I that the seed must be cast by the hand?’

“‘Yes, I have seen it.’

“‘Ah,’ he said, ‘but some men can cast evenly, and some cannot.’

“‘Then sowers no less than lyre-players need practice, that the hand may be the servant of the will.’

“‘Certainly.
[8]
But suppose that some of the land is rather light and some rather heavy?’

“‘What do you mean by that?’ I interrupted. ‘By “light” do you mean “weak,” and by “heavy,” “strong”?’

“‘Yes, I do; and I ask you whether you would give the same quantity of seed to both kinds, or to which you would give more?’
[9]

“‘Well, my principle is this: the stronger the wine, the more water I add; the stronger the bearer, the heavier the burden I put on his back; and if it is necessary to feed others, I should require the richest men to feed the greatest number. But tell me whether weak land, like draught animals, becomes stronger when you put more corn into it.’
[10]

“‘Ah, you’re joking, Socrates,’ he said, laughing, ‘but allow me to tell you that, if after putting in the seed you plough it in again as soon as the blade appears when the land is obtaining plenty of nourishment from the sky, it makes food for the soil, and strengthens it like manure. If, on the other hand, you let the seed go on growing on the land until it is bolled, it’s hard for weak land to yield much grain in the end. It’s hard, you know, for a weak sow to rear a big litter of fine pigs.’
[11]

“‘Do you mean, Ischomachus, that the weaker the soil the less seed should be put into it?’

“‘Yes, of course, Socrates; and you agree when you say that your invariable custom is to make the burden light that is to be borne by the weak.’
[12]

“‘But the hoers, now, Ischomachus, why do you put them on the corn?’