The Economist [36]
of products for the year. Cf. "Hell." V. iii. 17; "Revenues," ii. 7.
[2] {ede}, at this stage of the discussion.
[3] Or, "that part of the discussion which we ran over in a light and airy fashion," in reference to xiii. 2.
What topic, pray, was that? (he asked).
Soc. You said, if I mistake not, that it was most important to learn the methods of conducting the several processes of husbandry; for, you added, unless a man knows what things he has to do and how to do them, all the care and diligence in the world will stand him in no stead.
At this point[4] he took me up, observing: So what you now command me is to teach the art itself of tillage, Socrates?
[4] Keeping the vulg. order of SS. 3-9, which many commentators would rearrange in various ways. See Breit. ad loc.; Lincke, op. cit. p. 111 foll.
Yes (I replied), for now it looks as if this art were one which made the wise and skilled possessor of it wealthy, whilst the unskilled, in spite of all the pains he takes, must live in indigence.
Isch. Now shall you hear, then,[5] Socrates, the generous nature of this human art. For is it not a proof of something noble in it, that being of supreme utility, so sweet a craft to exercise, so rich in beauty, so acceptable alike to gods and men, the art of husbandry may further fairly claim to be the easiest of all the arts to learn? Noble I name it! this, at any rate, the epithet we give to animals which, being beautiful and large and useful, are also gentle towards the race of man.[6]
[5] Or, "Listen, then, and whilst I recount to you at once the loving- kindness of this art, to man the friendliest."
[6] Schenkl regards this sentence as an interpolation. For the epithet {gennaios} applied to the dog see "Cyrop." I. iv. 15, 21; "Hunting," iv. 7.
Allow me to explain, Ischomachus (I interposed). Up to a certain point I fully followed what you said. I understand, according to your theory, how a bailiff must be taught. In other words, I follow your descriptions both as to how you make him kindly disposed towards yourself; and how, again, you make him careful, capable of rule, and upright. But at that point you made the statement that, in order to apply this diligence to tillage rightly, the careful husbandman must further learn what are the different things he has to do, and not alone what things he has to do, but how and when to do them. These are the topics which, in my opinion, have hitherto been somewhat lightly handled in the argument. Let me make my meaning clearer by an instance: it is as if you were to tell me that, in order to be able to take down a speech in writing,[7] or to read a written statement, a man must know his letters. Of course, if not stone deaf, I must have garnered that for a certain object knowledge of letters was important to me, but the bare recognition of the fact, I fear, would not enable me in any deeper sense to know my letters. So, too, at present I am easily persuaded that if I am to direct my care aright in tillage I must have a knowledge of the art of tillage. But the bare recognition of the fact does not one whit provide me with the knowledge how I ought to till. And if I resolved without ado to set about the work of tilling, I imagine, I should soon resemble your physician going on his rounds and visiting his patients without knowing what to prescribe or what to do to ease their sufferings. To save me from the like predicaments, please teach me the actual work and processes of tillage.
[7] Or, "something from dictation."
Isch. But truly,[8] Socrates, it is not with tillage as with the other arts, where the learner must be well-nigh crushed[9] beneath a load of study before his prentice-hand can turn out work of worth sufficient merely to support him.[10] The art of husbandry, I say, is not so ill to learn and cross-grained; but by watching labourers in the field, by listening to what they say, you will have straightway knowledge enough to teach another, should the humour take you. I imagine, Socrates (he added), that you yourself, albeit
[2] {ede}, at this stage of the discussion.
[3] Or, "that part of the discussion which we ran over in a light and airy fashion," in reference to xiii. 2.
What topic, pray, was that? (he asked).
Soc. You said, if I mistake not, that it was most important to learn the methods of conducting the several processes of husbandry; for, you added, unless a man knows what things he has to do and how to do them, all the care and diligence in the world will stand him in no stead.
At this point[4] he took me up, observing: So what you now command me is to teach the art itself of tillage, Socrates?
[4] Keeping the vulg. order of SS. 3-9, which many commentators would rearrange in various ways. See Breit. ad loc.; Lincke, op. cit. p. 111 foll.
Yes (I replied), for now it looks as if this art were one which made the wise and skilled possessor of it wealthy, whilst the unskilled, in spite of all the pains he takes, must live in indigence.
Isch. Now shall you hear, then,[5] Socrates, the generous nature of this human art. For is it not a proof of something noble in it, that being of supreme utility, so sweet a craft to exercise, so rich in beauty, so acceptable alike to gods and men, the art of husbandry may further fairly claim to be the easiest of all the arts to learn? Noble I name it! this, at any rate, the epithet we give to animals which, being beautiful and large and useful, are also gentle towards the race of man.[6]
[5] Or, "Listen, then, and whilst I recount to you at once the loving- kindness of this art, to man the friendliest."
[6] Schenkl regards this sentence as an interpolation. For the epithet {gennaios} applied to the dog see "Cyrop." I. iv. 15, 21; "Hunting," iv. 7.
Allow me to explain, Ischomachus (I interposed). Up to a certain point I fully followed what you said. I understand, according to your theory, how a bailiff must be taught. In other words, I follow your descriptions both as to how you make him kindly disposed towards yourself; and how, again, you make him careful, capable of rule, and upright. But at that point you made the statement that, in order to apply this diligence to tillage rightly, the careful husbandman must further learn what are the different things he has to do, and not alone what things he has to do, but how and when to do them. These are the topics which, in my opinion, have hitherto been somewhat lightly handled in the argument. Let me make my meaning clearer by an instance: it is as if you were to tell me that, in order to be able to take down a speech in writing,[7] or to read a written statement, a man must know his letters. Of course, if not stone deaf, I must have garnered that for a certain object knowledge of letters was important to me, but the bare recognition of the fact, I fear, would not enable me in any deeper sense to know my letters. So, too, at present I am easily persuaded that if I am to direct my care aright in tillage I must have a knowledge of the art of tillage. But the bare recognition of the fact does not one whit provide me with the knowledge how I ought to till. And if I resolved without ado to set about the work of tilling, I imagine, I should soon resemble your physician going on his rounds and visiting his patients without knowing what to prescribe or what to do to ease their sufferings. To save me from the like predicaments, please teach me the actual work and processes of tillage.
[7] Or, "something from dictation."
Isch. But truly,[8] Socrates, it is not with tillage as with the other arts, where the learner must be well-nigh crushed[9] beneath a load of study before his prentice-hand can turn out work of worth sufficient merely to support him.[10] The art of husbandry, I say, is not so ill to learn and cross-grained; but by watching labourers in the field, by listening to what they say, you will have straightway knowledge enough to teach another, should the humour take you. I imagine, Socrates (he added), that you yourself, albeit