The Sportsman
X >>
Xenophon >> The Sportsman
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 | 5 |
6
[26] {epanieis}. See Sturz, s.v.
[27] Lit. "forwards the left foot will follow the left arm and the
right foot the other."
[28] "Statum venatoris aprum venabulo excipientis pinxit
Philostratus," "Imag." i. 28, Schn.
[29] Or, "he will step forward and take one stride not much longer
than that of a wrestler, and thrust forward his boar-spear."
[30] Cf. Hes. "Shield," 387; Hom. "Il." xii. 148: "Then forth rushed
the twain, and fought in front of the gates like wild boars that
in the mountains abide the assailing crew of men and dogs, and
charging on either flank they crush the wood around them, cutting
it at the root, and the clatter of their tusks waxes loud, till
one smite them and take their life away" (A. Lang).
From this extremity there is but one means of escape, and one alone,
for the luckless prisoner. One of his fellow-huntsmen must approach
with boar-spear and provoke the boar, making as though he would let
fly at him; but let fly he must not, for fear of hitting the man under
him. The boar, on seeing this, will leave the fallen man, and in rage
and fury turn to grapple his assailant. The other will seize the
instant to spring to his feet, and not forget to clutch his boar-spear
as he rises to his legs again; since rescue cannot be nobly purchased
save by victory.[31] Let him again bring the weapon to bear in the
same fashion, and make a lunge at a point within the shoulder-blade,
where lies the throat;[32] and planting his body firmly press with all
his force.[33] The boar, by dint of his might and battle rage, will
still push on, and were it not that the teeth of the lance-blade
hindered,[34] would push his way up to the holder of the boar-spear
even though the shaft run right through him.[35]
[31] "Safety can only be won with honour by some master-stroke of
victory."
[32] {sphage}. Aristot. "H. A." i. 14. 2. "Straight at the jugular."
[33] Or, "throwing his whole weight on the thrust, press home with all
his force."
[34] Or, "but for the intervention of the two projecting teeth of the
lance-blade." See the account of the passage of arms between Col.
Pollock and a boar in his "Incidents of Foreign Sport and Travel."
There the man was mounted, but alone.
[35] Lit. "force his heavy bulk along the shaft right up to the holder
of the boar-spear."
Nay, so tremendous is the animal's power, that a property which no one
ever would suspect belongs to him. Lay a few hairs upon the tusk of a
boar just dead, and they will shrivel up instantly,[36] so hot are
they, these tusks. Nay, while the creature is living, under fierce
excitement they will be all aglow; or else how comes it that though he
fail to gore the dogs, yet at the blow the fine hairs of their coats
are singed in flecks and patches?[37]
[36] {euthus}, i.e. "for a few seconds after death."
[37] The belief is still current, I am told, in parts of India.
So much and even greater trouble may be loked for from the wild boar
before capture; I speak of the male animal. If it should be a sow that
falls into the toils, the huntsman should run up and prod her, taking
care not to be pushed off his legs and fall, in which case he cannot
escape being trampled on and bitten. Ergo, he will not voluntarily get
under those feet; but if involuntarily he should come to such a pass,
the same means[38] of helping each the other to get up again will
serve, as in the case of the male animal; and when he has regained his
legs, he must ply the boar-spear vigorously till she too has died the
death.
[38] {dianastaseis}, "the same methods of mutual recovery."
Wild pigs may be captured further in the following fashion: The nets
are fixed for them at the entrances of woody glens,[39] in coppices
and hollows, and on screes, where there are outlets into rank meadow-
lands, marshes, and clear pools.[40] The appointed person mounts guard
at the nets with his boar-spear, while the others work the dogs,
exploring the best and likeliest spots. As soon as the quarry is found
the chase commences. If then an animal falls into the net, the net-
keeper will grip his boar-spear and[41] advance, when he will ply it
as I have described; if he escape the net, then after him full cry. In
hot, sultry weather the boar may be run down by the hounds and
captured. Though a monster in strength, the creature becomes short of
breath and will give in from sheer exhaustion.
[39] Al. "at the passages from woodland lakes into oak-coppices."
[40] {udata}, "waters," lakes, pools, rivers, etc.
[41] Or, "and proceed to tackle him."
It is a form of sport which costs the lives of many hounds and
endangers those of the huntsmen themselves. Supposing that the animal
has given in from exhaustion at some moment in the chase, and they are
forced to come to close quarters;[42] whether he has taken to the
water, or stands at bay against some craggy bank, or does not choose
to come out from some thicket (since neither net nor anything else
hinders him from bearing down like a tornado on whoever approaches);
still, even so, advance they must, come what come may, to the attack.
And now for a display of that hardihood which first induced them to
indulge a passion not fit for carpet knights[43]--in other words, they
must ply their boar-spears and assume that poise of body[44] already
described, since if one must meet misfortune, let it not be for want
of observing the best rules.[45]
[42] Reading {prosienai} [{ta probolia}]. [The last two words are
probably a gloss, and should be omitted, since {prosienai} (from
{prosiemi}) {ta probolia} = "ply," or "apply their boar-spears,"
is hardly Greek.] See Schneid. "Add. et Corr." and L. Dind. ad
loc.
[43] {ekponein}, "to exercise this passion to the full."
[44] Lit. "assume their boar-spears and that forward attitude of
body."
[45] Lit. "it will not be at any rate from behaving correctly."
Foot-traps are also set for the wild boar, similar to those for deer
and in the same sort of places; the same inspections and methods of
pursuit are needed, with consequent attacks and an appeal to the boar-
spear in the end.
Any attempt to capture the young pigs will cost the huntsman some
rough work.[46] The young are not left alone, as long as they are
small; and when the hounds have hit upon them or they get wind of
something wrong, they will disappear like magic, vanishing into the
forest. As a rule, both parents attend on their own progeny, and are
not pleasant then to meddle with, being more disposed to do battle for
their young than for themselves.
[46] Lit. "the piglings will resent it (sc. {to aliskesthai})
strongly"; al. "the adult (sub. {to therion}) will stand anything
rather."
XI
Lions, leopards, lynxes, panthers, bears and all other such game are
to be captured in foreign countries--about Mount Pangaeus and Cittus
beyond Macedonia;[1] or again, in Nysa beyond Syria, and upon other
mountains suited to the breeding of large game.
[1] Of these places, Mt. Pangaeus (mod. Pirnari) (see "Hell." V. ii.
17), Cittus (s. Cissus, mod. Khortiatzi), N. W. of the Chalcidice,
Mysian Olympus, and Pindus are well known. Nysa has not been
verified hitherto, I think. Sturz cf. Bochart, "Hieroz." Part I.
lib. iii. c. 1, p. 722. Strabo, 637 (xv. 1. 7), mentions a Mount
Nysa in India sacred to Dionysus, and cites Soph. "Frag." 782--
{othen kateidon ton bebakkhiomenen
brotoisi kleinon Nusan . . . k.t.l.},
but it is a far cry from Xenophon's Syria to India. Possibly it is
to be sought for in the region of Mt. Amanus.
In the mountains, owing to the difficulty of the ground,[2] some of
these animals are captured by means of poison--the drug aconite--which
the hunters throw down for them,[3] taking care to mix it with the
favourite food of the wild best, near pools and drinking-places or
wherever else they are likely to pay visits. Others of them, as they
descend into the plains at night, may be cut off by parties mounted
upon horseback and well armed, and so captured, but not without
causing considerable danger to their captors.[4]
[2] Or, "the inaccessibility of their habitats."
[3] "The method is for the trapper to throw it down mixed with the
food which the particular creature likes best."
[4] For the poison method see Pollux, v. 82; Plin. "H. N." viii. 27.
In some cases the custom is to construct large circular pits of some
depth, leaving a single pillar of earth in the centre, on the top of
which at nightfall they set a goat fast-bound, and hedge the pit about
with timber, so as to prevent the wild beasts seeing over, and without
a portal of admission. What happens then is this: the wild beasts,
hearing the bleating in the night, keep scampering round the barrier,
and finding no passage, leap over it, and are caught.[5]
[5] See "Tales from the Fjeld," Sir George W. Dasent, "Father Bruin in
the Corner."
XII
With regard to methods of procedure in the hunting-field, enough has
been said.[1] But there are many benefits which the enthusiastic
sportsman may expect to derive from this pursuit.[2] I speak of the
health which will thereby accrue to the physical frame, the quickening
of the eye and ear, the defiance of old age, and last, but not least,
the warlike training which it ensures. To begin with, when some day he
has to tramp along rough ways under arms, the heavy infantry soldier
will not faint or flag--he will stand the toil from being long
accustomed to the same experiences in capturing wild beasts. In the
next place, men so trained will be capable of sleeping on hard
couches, and prove brave guardians of the posts assigned them. In the
actual encounter with the enemy, they will know at once how to attack
and to carry out the word of command as it passes along the lines,
because it was just so in the old hunting days that they captured the
wild game. If posted in the van of battle, they will not desert their
ranks, because endurance is engrained in them. In the rout of the
enemy their footsteps will not falter nor fail: straight as an arrow
they will follow the flying foe, on every kind of ground, through long
habituation.[3] Or if their own army encounter a reverse on wooded and
precipitous ground beset with difficulties, these will be the men to
save themselves with honour and to extricate their friends; since long
acquaintance with the business of the chase has widened their
intelligence.[4]
[1] Or, "Respecting the methods employed in different forms of the
chase, I have said my say." As to the genuineness of this and the
following chapter see L. Dind. ad loc.; K. Lincke, "Xenophon's
Dialog." {peri oikonomias}, p. 132.
[2] Lit. "this work"; and in reference to the highly Xenophontine
argument which follows see "Hellenica Essays," p. 342; cf.
"Cyrop." I. vi. 28, 39-41.
[3] "For the sake of 'auld lang syne.'"
[4] Or, "will place them on the vantage-ground of experts."
Nay, even under the worst of circumstances, when a whole mob of
fellow-combatants[5] has been put to flight, how often ere now has a
handful[6] of such men, by virtue of their bodily health[7] and
courage, caught the victorious enemy roaming blindly in some intricacy
of ground, renewed the fight, and routed him. Since so it must ever
be; to those whose souls and bodies are in happy case success is near
at hand.[8]
[5] Or, "allies."
[6] Or, "a forlorn hope."
[7] {euexia}, al. {eutaxia}, "by good discipline."
[8] "Fortune favours the brave," reading {to eutukhesai} (L. D.); or
if {tou eutukhesai}, (vulg.) "those whose health of soul and body
is established are ipso facto nigh unto good fortune."
It was through knowledge that they owed success against their foes to
such a training, that our own forefathers paid so careful a heed to
the young.[9] Though they had but a scant supply of fruits, it was an
immemorial custom "not to hinder[10] the hunter from hunting any of
earth's offspring"; and in addition, "not to hunt by night[11] within
many furlongs of the city," in order that the adepts in that art might
not rob the young lads of their game. They saw plainly that among the
many pleasures to which youth is prone, this one alone is productive
of the greatest blessings. In other words, it tends to make them sound
of soul and upright, being trained in the real world of actual
things[12] [and, as was said before, our ancestors could not but
perceive they owed their success in war to such instrumentality[13]];
and the chase alone deprives them of none of the other fair and noble
pursuits that they may choose to cultivate, as do those other evil
pleasures, which ought never to be learned. Of such stuff are good
soldiers and good generals made.[14] Naturally, those from whose souls
and bodies the sweat of toil has washed all base and wanton thoughts,
who have implanted in them a passion for manly virtue--these, I say,
are the true nobles.[15] Not theirs will it be to allow their city or
its sacred soil to suffer wrong.
[9] Al. "looked upon the chase as a pursuit incumbent on the young."
[10] {me koluein [dia] to meden ton epi te ge phuomenon agreuein}. The
commentators generally omit {dia}, in which case translate as in
text. Lenz reads {un koluein dia meden} (see his note ad v. 34),
and translates (p. 61), "Dass man die Jager nicht hindern solle,
in allem was die Erde hervorbrachte zu jagen," "not to hinder the
huntsmen from ranging over any of the crops which spring from
earth"; (but if so, we should expect {dia medenos}). Sturz, s.v.
{agreuein}, notes "festive," "because the hunter does not hunt
vegetable products." So Gail, "parce que le chasseur rien veut pas
aux productions de la terre."
[11] Or, "set their face against night-hunting," cf. "Mem." IV. vii.
4; Plat. "Soph." 220 D; "Stranger: There is one mode of striking
which is done at night, and by the light of a fire, and is called
by the hunters themselves firing, or spearing by firelight"
(Jowett); for which see Scott, "Guy Mannering," ch. x. It seems
"night hunting was not to be practised within a certain
considerable radius, whereby the proficients in that art might
deprive it (lit. in order that they might not deprive) them (the
young huntsmen) of their game."
[12] Lit. "in truth and reality (not among visionary phantoms)."
[13] These words are commonly regarded as an addition; and what does
{te} signify?
[14] Or, "Here you have the making of brave soldiers and generals.
Here in embryo are to be found your future soldiers and generals
worthy the name."
[15] {outoi aristoi}: these are prima virorum, the true aristocrats.
Some people tell us it is not right to indulge a taste for hunting,
lest it lead to neglect of home concerns, not knowing that those who
are benefactors of their country and their friends are in proportion
all the more devoted to domestic duties. If lovers of the chase pre-
eminently fit themselves to be useful to the fatherland, that is as
much as to say they will not squander their private means; since with
the state itself the domestic fortunes of each are saved or lost. The
real fact is, these men are saviours, not of their own fortunes only,
but of the private fortunes of the rest, of yours and mine. Yet there
are not a few irrational people amongst these cavillers who, out of
jealousy, would rather perish, thanks to their own baseness, than owe
their lives to the virtue of their neighbours. So true is it that the
mass of pleasures are but evil,[16] to which men succumb, and thereby
are incited to adopt the worse cause in speech and course in
action.[17] And with what result?--from vain and empty arguments they
contract emnities, and reap the fruit of evil deeds, diseases, losses,
death--to the undoing of themselves, their children, and their
friends.[18] Having their senses dulled to things evil, while more
than commonly alive to pleasures, how shall these be turned to good
account for the salvation of the state? Yet from these evils every one
will easily hold aloof, if once enamoured of those joys whose brief I
hold, since a chivalrous education teaches obedience to laws, and
renders justice familiar to tongue and ear.[19]
[16] See "Hellenica Essays," p. 371.
[17] "To depravity of speech and conduct" (whether as advocates or
performers). See Aristoph. "Clouds."
[18] Or, "bring down on themselves, their children, and their friends
a spring of misfortunes in the shape of diseases, losses, or even
death."
[19] "For what does a chivalrous education teach save to obey the law,
and to make the theme of justice familiar to tongue and ear?"
In the one camp are those who, subjecting themselves ever to new toil
and fresh instruction, have, at the cost of lessons and exercises
painful to themselves, obtained to their several states salvation; and
in the other are those who for the very irksomeness of the process
choose not to be taught, but rather to pass away their days in
pleasures unseasonable--nature's abjects these.[20] Not theirs is it
to obey either laws or good instruction;[21] nay, how should they, who
never toil, discover what a good man ought to be?--in other words,
wisdom and justice are alike beyond their power. Subject to
indiscipline, they have many a fault to find with him who is well
educated.
[20] Lit. "the sorriest of mankind these by nature."
[21] Or, "virtuous argument"; {logois agathois}, lit. "good words."
Through the instrumentality of such as these nothing can go well;
whereas every blessing which mankind enjoys has been discovered by the
efforts of the nobler sort. Nobler, I say, are those who choose to
toil.[22]
[22] Or, "of choice spirits; and who are the choice spirits?--Clearly
those who choose to toil."
And this has been proved conclusively by a notable example. If we look
back to the men of old who sat at the feet of Cheiron--whose names I
mentioned--we see that it was by dedicating the years of their youth
to the chase[23] that they learnt all their noble lore; and therefrom
they attained to great renown, and are admired even to this day for
their virtue--virtue who numbers all men as her lovers, as is very
plain. Only because of the pains it costs to win her the greater
number fall away; for the achievement of her is hid in obscurity;
while the pains that cleave to her are manifest. Perchance, if only
she were endowed with a visible bodily frame, men would less have
neglected her, knowing that even as she is visible to them, so they
also are not hid from her eyes. For is it not so that when a man moves
in the presence of him whom he dearly loves,[24] he rises to a height
above himself, being incapable of aught base or foul in word or deed
in sight of him?[25] But fondly dreaming that the eye of virtue is
closed to them, they are guilty of many a base thing and foul before
her very face, who is hidden from their eyes. Yet she is present
everywhere, being dowered with immortality; and those who are perfect
in goodness[26] she honours, but the wicked she thrusts aside from
honour. If only men could know that she regards them, how eagerly
would they rush to the embrace of toilful training and
tribulation,[27] by which alone she is hardly taken; and so should
they gain the mastery over her, and she should be laid captive at
their feet.
[23] Or, "that they made their first essay in hunting when mere boys,
and from hunting upwards were taught many noble arts."
[24] Lit. "is beheld by his beloved." Cf. "Symp." iv. 4; viii. 31.
[25] Lit. "in order not to be seen of him."
[26] Lit. "good with respect to her."
[27] Or, "to those toils and that training."
XIII
Now what astonishes me in the "sophists," as they are called,[1] is,
that though they profess, the greater part of them, to lead the young
to virtue, they really lead them in the opposite direction. Never have
we set eyes on the man anywhere who owed his goodness to the sophists
of to-day.[2] Nor do their writings contain anything[3] calculated to
make men good, but they have written volumes on vain and frivolous
subjects, in which the young may find pleasures that pall, but the
essence of virtue is not in them. The result of this literature is to
inflict unncessary waste of time on those who look to learn something
from it all and look in vain, cutting them off from wholesome
occupations and even teaching what is bad. I cannot then but blame
them for certain large offences[4] more than lightly; but as regards
the subject matter of their writings my charge is, that while full of
far-fetched phraseology,[5] of solid wholesome sentiments, by which
the young might be trained to virtue, I see not a vestige. Speaking as
a plain man, I know that to be taught what is good by one's own nature
is best of all,[6] and next best to learn of those who really do know
some good thing rather than of those who have an art to deceive. It
may well be that I fail to express myself in subtle language,[7] nor
do I pretend to aim at subtlety; what I do aim at is to express
rightly-conceived thoughts such as may serve the need of those who
have been nobly disciplined in virtue; for it is not words and names
that give instruction, but thoughts and sentiments worthy the name.
[1] Cf. Isocr. "Against the Sophists"; "Antidosis"; "Hel. Encom.";
Plat. "Sophist."
[2] Who are these {oi nun sophistai}?
[3] Lit. "do they present writings to the world."
[4] Or, "as to certain weightier matters gravely."
[5] {remata} = "words and phrases"; {ynomai} = "moral maxims, just
thoughts."
[6] "Being myself but a private individual and a plain man." According
to Hartman, "A. X. N." p. 350, "ridicule detorquet Hesiodeum":
{outos men panaristos os auto panta noese
esthlos d' au kakeinos os eu eiponti pithetai}.
[7] Al. "in true sophistic style." The writer seems to say: "I lack
subtlety of expression (nor is that at all my object); what I do
aim at is to trace with some exactness, to present with the
lucidity appropriate to them, certain thoughts demanded by persons
well educated in the school of virtue."
Nor am I singular in thus reproaching the modern type of sophist (not
the true philosopher, be it understood); it is a general reproach that
the wisdom he professes consists in word-subtleties, not in ideas.[8]
Certainly it does not escape my notice that an orderly sequence of
ideas adds beauty to the composition:[9] I mean it will be easy to
find fault with what is written incorrectly.[10] Nevertheless, I
warrant it is written in this fashion with an eye to rectitude, to
make the reader wise and good, not more sophistical. For I would wish
my writings not to seem but rather to be useful. I would have them
stand the test of ages in their blamelessness.[11]
[8] {onomasi}, "in names"; {noemasi}, "thoughts and ideas."
[9] Or, "I am alive to the advantage to be got from methodic, orderly
expression artistically and morally."
[10] This passage, since H. Estienne (Stephanus) first wrote against
it "huic loco meae conjecturae succumbunt," has been a puzzle to
all commentators. The words run: {ou lanthanei de me oti kalos kai
exes gegraphthai} [{gegraptai} in the margin of one MS.] {radion
gar estai autois takhu me orthos mempsasthai' kaitoi gegraptai ge
outos k.t.l.} For {takhu me orthos} (1) {takhu ti me orthos}, (2)
{to} (or {ta}) {me orthos}, have been suggested. It is not clear
whether {autois} = {tois sophistais} (e.g. "it will be easy for
these people to lay a finger at once on blots, however unfairly"),
or = {tois suggrammasi} (sc. my(?) compositions; so {auta}, S. 7
below, {ou gar dokein auta boulomai k.t.l.}) (e.g. "since it will
be easy offhand to find fault with them incorrectly") [or if {ta
me orthos}, "what is incorrect in them"]. I append the three
translations of Gail, Lenz, and Talbot. "Je sais combien il est
avantageux de presenter des ouvrages methodiquement ecrits; aussi
par le meme sera-t-il plus facile de prouver aux sophistes leur
futilite!" {radion gar estai} [sub. {emoi}] {mempsasthai outois
takhu (to) me} (sous-entendu) {gegraphthai orthos} (Gail). "Zwar
entgeht mir nicht, dass es schon say die Worte kunstvoll zu
ordnen, denn leichter wird ihnen sonst, schnell, aber mit Unrecht
zu tadeln" (Lenz). "Aussi leur sera-t-il facile de me reprocher
d'ecrire vite et sans ordre" (Talbot). As if {takhu me orthos}
were the reproachful comment of the sophist on the author's
treatise.
[11] i.e. "the arguments to be blameless at once and irrefutable for
all time."
That is my point of view. The sophist has quite another--words with
him are for the sake of deception, writing for personal gain; to
benefit any other living soul at all is quite beside his mark. There
never was nor is there now a sage among them to whom the title "wise"
could be applied. No! the appellation "sophist" suffices for each and
all, which among men of common sense[12] sounds like a stigma. My
advice then is to mistrust the sonorous catch-words[13] of the
sophist, and not to despise the reasoned conclusions[14] of the
philosopher; for the sophist is a hunter after the rich and young, the
philosopher is the common friend of all; he neither honours nor
despises the fortunes of men.
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 | 5 |
6