Memorabilia

Xenophon

Xenophon in Seven Volumes Vol 4; Marchant, E. C. (Edgar Cardew), 1864-1960, translator; Marchant, E. C. (Edgar Cardew), 1864-1960, editor

A fine property, upon my word, Theodoté, and much better than abundance of sheep and goats and oxen. But, he went on, do you trust to luck, waiting for friends to settle on you like flies, or have you some contrivance of your own?

How could I invent a contrivance for that?Much more conveniently, I assure you, than the spiders. For you know how they hunt for a living: they weave a thin web, I believe, and feed on anything that gets into it.

And do you advise me, then, to weave a trap of some sort?Of course not. Don’t suppose you are going to hunt friends, the noblest game in the world, by such crude methods. Don’t you notice that many tricks are employed even for hunting such a poor thing as the hare?[*](Cyropaedia I. vi. 40.)

Since hares feed by night, hounds specially adapted for night work are provided to hunt them; and since they run away at daybreak, another pack of hounds is obtained for tracking them by the scent along the run from the feeding ground to the form; and since they are so nimble that once they are off they actually escape in the open, yet a third pack of speedy hounds is formed to catch them by hot pursuit; and as some escape even so, nets are set up in the tracks where they escape, that they may be driven into them and stopped dead.

Then can I adapt this plan to the pursuit of friends?Of course you can, if for the hound you substitute an agent who will track and find rich men with an eye for beauty, and will then contrive to chase them into your nets.

Nets! What nets have I got?One, surely, that clips close enough — your body! And inside it you have a soul that teaches you what glance will please, what words delight, and tells you that your business is to give a warm welcome to an eager suitor, but to slam the door upon a coxcomb; yes, and when a friend has fallen sick, to show your anxiety by visiting him; and when he has had a stroke of good fortune, to congratulate him eagerly; and if he is eager in his suit, to put yourself at his service heart and soul. As for loving, you know how to do that, I am sure, both tenderly and truly; and that your friends give you satisfaction, you convince them, I know, not by words but by deeds.Upon my word, said Theodoté, I don’t contrive one of these things.

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;[*](Cyropaedia VIII. vii. 13.) it is kindness and sweetness that catch the creature and hold him fast.True, she said.

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.

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.

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.

Then, Socrates, exclaimed Theodoté, 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.

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.

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.

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!

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,[*](ἰδιώτης is one who is ignorant of any profession or occupation: ἰδιωτικῶς ἔχειν here means to be ignorant of athletic training.) 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?

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.