“‘I am indeed, Socrates,’ replied Aristarchus, ‘in great perplexity; for since the city has been disturbed, and many of our people have fled to the Piræus, my surviving sisters and nieces and cousins have gathered about me in such numbers, that there are now in my house fourteen free-born persons. At the same time, we receive no profit from our lands, for the enemy are in possession of them; nor any rent from our houses, for but few inhabitants are left in the city; no one will buy our furniture, nor is it possible to borrow money from any quarter; a person, indeed, as it seems to me, would sooner find money by seeking it on the road, than get it by borrowing. It is a grievous thing to me, therefore, to leave my relations to perish; and it is impossible for me to support such a number under such circumstances.’ Socrates, on hearing this, replied: ‘Are you not aware that Cyrebus, by making bread, maintains his whole household and lives luxuriously; that Demea supports himself by making cloaks, Menon by making woolen cloaks, and that most of the Megarians live by making mantles?’ ‘Certainly they do,’ said Aristarchus; ‘for they purchase barbarian slaves and keep them, in order to force them to do what they please; but I have with me free-born persons and relatives.’ ‘Then,’ added Socrates, ‘because they are free and related to you, do you think that they ought to do nothing else but eat and sleep? Do you find that idleness and carelessness are serviceable to mankind, either for learning what it becomes them to know, or for remembering what they have learned, or for maintaining the health and strength of their bodies, and that industry and diligence are of no service at all? And as to the arts which you say they know, did they learn them as being useless to maintain life, and with the intention of never practicing any of them, or, on the contrary, with a view to occupy themselves about them, and to reap profit from them? In which condition will men be more temperate, living in idleness or attending to useful employments? In which condition will they be more honest, if they work, or if they sit in idleness meditating how to procure necessaries?’ ‘By the gods,’ exclaimed Aristarchus, ‘you seem to me to give such excellent advice, Socrates, that though hitherto I did not like to borrow money, knowing that, when I had spent what I got, I should have no means of repaying it, I now think that I can endure to do so, in order to gain the necessary means for commencing work.’
“The necessary means were accordingly provided; wool was bought; and the women took their dinners as they continued at work, and supped when they had finished their tasks; they became cheerful instead of gloomy in countenance, and, instead of regarding each other with dislike, met the looks of one another with pleasure; they loved Aristarchus as their protector, and he loved them as being of use to him. At last he came to Socrates, and told him with delight of the state of things in the house; adding that, ‘the women complained of him as being the only person in the house that ate the bread of idleness.’ ‘And do you not tell them,’ said Socrates, ‘the fable of the dog? For they say that when beasts had the faculty of speech, the sheep said to her master: “You act strangely, in granting nothing to us who supply you with wool, and lambs, and cheese, except what we get from the ground; while to the dog, who brings you no such profits, you give a share of the food which you take yourself.”
“The dog hearing these remarks, said, ‘And not indeed without reason: for I am he that protects even yourselves, so that you are neither stolen by men, nor carried off by wolves; while, if I were not to guard you, you would be unable even to feed, for fear lest you should be destroyed.’ In consequence it is said that the sheep agreed that the dog should have superior honor. You, accordingly, tell your relations that you are, in the place of the dog, their guardian and protector, and that, by your means, they work and live in security and pleasure, without suffering injury from any one.’”[105]
If it is unjust to regard manual and productive work as servile, it is equally unjust to regard them as alone entitled to the name of work.
“There are,” says a Chinese sage, “two kinds of work: some people work with their minds; some with their hands. Those who work with their minds govern men; those who work with their hands are governed by men. Those who are governed by men feed men; those who govern men are fed by men.”[106]
The same author shows further how divers functions are necessarily divided in society.
“The holy man said to his brother: Go and comfort men; call them to thee; bring them back to virtue; correct them, help them; make them prosper. In thus busying themselves with the welfare of the people, could these holy men find leisure to engage in agriculture?”
We must, therefore, admit that all activity usefully employed is work, and that all work, whether manual or intellectual, mercenary[107] or gratuitous, is noble and legitimate.
Work being taken in its most general sense, may be set down as being a pleasure, a necessity, a duty.
Kant, who, as we have seen, refuses to admit in morals any other principle but that of duty, would probably disagree with us when we say that work is a pleasure and a necessity. But if it be true, why should we not say so? Is it necessary, in order that the duty of work be truly accomplished, that it be both painful and useless? Wisdom nowise requires this. Providence having attached to work, whilst making it the necessary condition of our self-preservation, a certain pleasure, lightening thereby our efforts, morality nowise forbids us to enjoy this pleasure and accept this necessity.