In other branches of rural economy the country gentlemen of Attica exhibited no less enthusiasm or skill. Indeed, throughout Greece, there prevailed a similar taste. Every one was eager to instruct and be instructed; and so great in consequence was the demand for treatises on husbandry, theoretical and practical, that numerous writers, the names of fifty of whom are preserved by Varro,^[1621] made it the object of their study. Others without committing the result of their experience to writing, devoted themselves wholly to its practical improvement. They purchased waste or ill-cultivated lands, and, by investigating the nature of the soil, skilfully adapting their crops to it, manuring, irrigating, and draining, converted a comparative desert into a productive estate.^[1622] We can possibly, as Dr. Johnson insists, improve very little our knowledge of agriculture by erudite researches into the methods of the ancients; though Milton was of opinion, that even here some useful hints might be obtained. In describing, however, what the Greeks did, I am not pretending to enlighten the present age, but to enable it to enjoy its superiority by instituting a comparison with the ruder practices of antiquity.

Already in those times the men of experience and routine,^[1623] had begun to vent their sneers against philosophers for their profound researches into the nature of soils,^[1624] in which, however, they by no means designed to engage the husbandman, but only to present him, in brief and intelligible maxims, with the fruit of their labours. Nevertheless the practical husbandman went to work a shorter way. He observed his neighbour’s grounds,^[1625] saw what throve in this soil, what in the other, what was bettered by irrigation, what in this respect might safely be left to the care of Heaven; and thus, in a brief space, acquired a rough theory wherewith to commence operations. An agriculturist, the Athenians thought, required no recondite erudition, though to his complete success the exercise of much good sense and careful observation was necessary. Every man would, doubtless, know in what seasons of the year he must plough and sow and reap, that lands exhausted by cultivation must be suffered to lie fallow, that change of crops is beneficial to the soil, and so on. But the great art consists in nicely adapting each operation to the varying march of the seasons, in converting accidents to use, in rendering the winds, the showers, the sunshine, subservient to your purposes, in mastering the signs of the weather, and guarding as far as possible against the injuries sustained from storms of rain or hail.

There was in circulation among the Greeks a small body of precepts, addressed more especially to husbandmen, designed to promote the real object of civilisation. Quaint, no doubt, and ineffably commonplace, they will now appear, but they served, nevertheless, in early and rude times, to soften the manners and regulate the conduct of the rustic Hellenes. Who first began to collect and preserve them is, of course, unknown; they are thickly sprinkled through the works of Hesiod,^[1626] and impart to them an air of moral dignity which relieves the monotony that would otherwise result from a mere string of agricultural maxims. The chief aim of the poet seems to be, to promote peace and good neighbourhood, to multiply among the inhabitants of the fields occasions of joining the “rough right hand,”^[1627] to apply the sharp spur to industry, and thus to augment the stores, and, along with them, the contentment, of his native land. Be industrious, exclaims the poet, for famine is the companion of the idle. Labour confers fertility on flocks and herds, and is the parent of opulence. He who toils is beloved by gods^[1628] and men, while the idle hand is the object of their aversion. The slothful man envies the prosperity of his neighbour; but glory is the reward of virtue. Prudence heaps up that which profligacy dissipates. Be hospitable to the stranger, for he who repels the suppliant from his door is no less guilty than the adulterer, than the despoiler of the orphan, or the wretch who blasphemes his aged parent on the brink of the grave: of such men the end is miserable, when Zeus rains down vengeance upon them in recompense for their evil actions. Be mindful that thou offer up victims to the gods with pure hands and holy thoughts,—to pour libations in their temples, adorn their altars, and render them propitious to thee in all things. When about to ascend thy couch to enjoy sweet sleep, and when the sacred light of the day-spring first appears, omit not to demand of heaven a pure heart and a cheerful mind, with the means of extending thy possessions, and protection from loss. When thou makest a feast, invite thy friends and thy neighbours, and in times of trouble they will run to thy assistance half-clad, while thy relations will tarry to buckle on their girdles. Borrow of thy neighbour, but, in repaying him, exceed rather than fall short of what is his due. Rise betimes. Every little makes a mickle. Store is no sore. Housed corn breaks no sleep. Drink largely the top and the bottom of the jar; be sparing of the middle:^[1629] it is niggardly to stint your friends when the wine runs low. Do unto others as they do unto you.—These seeds of morality are simple, as I have said, and far from recondite; but they produced the warriors of Marathon and Platæa, and preserved for ages the freedom and the independence of Greece.

The other branches of an Hellenic farmer’s studies comprehended something like the elements of natural philosophy,—the influence of the sun and moon, the rising and setting of the stars, the motion of the winds, the generation and effects of dews, clouds, meteors, showers and tempests, the origin of springs and fountains, and the migrations and habits of birds and other animals. In addition to these things, it was necessary that he should be acquainted with certain practices, prevalent from time immemorial in his country, and, probably, deriving their origin from ages beyond the utmost reach of tradition. The source of these we usually denominate superstition, though it would, perhaps, be more proper to regard them as the offspring of that lively and plastic fancy which gave birth to poetry and art, and inclined its possessors to create a sort of minor religion, based on a praiseworthy principle, but developing itself chiefly in observances almost always minute and trifling, and sometimes ridiculous. To describe all these at length would be beside my present purpose, which only requires that I mention by the way the more remarkable of those connected especially with agriculture.

The knowledge of soil was called into play both in purchasing estates and in appropriating their several parts to different kinds of culture. According to their notions, which appear to have been founded on long experience, and in most points, I believe, agree with those which still prevail, a rich black mould, deep, friable, and porous,^[1630] which would resist equally the effects of rain and drought, was, for all purposes, the best. Next to this they esteemed a yellow alluvial soil, and that sweet warm ground which best suited vines, corn, and trees. The red earth, also, they highly valued, except for timber.

Their rules for detecting the character and qualities of the soil appear to have been judicious. Good land, they thought, might be known even from its appearance, since in drought it cracks not too much, and during heavy and continued showers becomes not miry, but suffers all the rain to sink into its bosom. That earth they considered inferior which in cold weather becomes baked, and is covered on the surface by a shell-like incrustation. They judged, likewise, of the virtue of the soil by the luxuriant or stunted character of its natural productions:^[1631] thus they augured favourably of those tracts of country which were covered by vast and lofty timber-trees, while such as produced only a dwarfed vegetation, consisting of meagre bushes, scattered thickets, and hungry grass, they reckoned almost worthless.

Not content with the testimony of the eye, some husbandmen were accustomed to consult both the smell and the taste; for, digging a pit of some depth, they took thence a small quantity of earth, from the odour of which they drew an opinion favourable or otherwise. But to render surety doubly sure, they then threw it into a vase, and poured on it a quantity of potable water, which they afterwards tasted, inferring from the flavour the fertility or barrenness of the soil. This was the experiment most relied on; though many considered that soil sweet which produced the basket-rush, the reed, the lotos, and the bramble. On some occasions they employed another method, which was, to make a small excavation, and then, throwing back the earth into the opening whence it had been drawn, to observe whether or not it filled the whole cavity:^[1632] if it did so, or left a surplus, the soil was judged to be excellent; if not, they regarded it as of little value. Soils possessing saline qualities were shunned by the ancients, who carefully avoided mingling salt with their manure, though lands of this description were rightly thought to be well adapted to the cultivation of palm-trees,^[1633] which they produce in the greatest perfection,^[1634] as in Phœnicia, Egypt, and the country round Babylon.^[1635]

Another art in which the condition of the husbandman required him to be well versed was that of discovering the signs of latent springs,^[1636] the existence of which it was necessary to ascertain before laying the foundation of a new farm. The investigation was complicated, and carried on in a variety of ways. First, and most obvious, was the inference drawn from plants and the nature of the soil itself; for those grounds, they thought, were intersected below by veins of water which bore upon their surface certain tribes of grasses and herbs and bushes, as the couch-grass, the broad-leaved plantain, the heliotrope, the red-grass, the agnus-castus, the bramble, the horse-tail, or shave-grass, ivy, bush-calamint, soft and slender reeds,^[1637] maiden-hair, the melilot, ditch-dock, cinquefoil, or five leaf-grass, broad-leaved bloodwort, the rush, nightshade, mil-foil, colt’s-foot or foal’s-foot, trefoil or pond-weed, and the black thistle. Spring-heads were always supposed to lurk beneath fat and black loam, as, likewise, in a stony soil, especially where the rocks are dark and of a ferruginous colour. But in argillaceous districts, particularly where potter’s-clay abounds, or where there are many pebbles and pumice-stones,^[1638] they are of rare occurrence.

To the above indications they were in most cases careful to add others. Ascending ere sunrise to a higher level than the spot under examination, they observed by the first rays and before the light thickened, whether they could detect the presence of any exhalations, which were held unerringly to indicate the presence of springs below. Sometimes inquisition was made during the bright and clear noon, when the subterraneous retreats of the Naiads were supposed in summer to be betrayed by cloudlets of thin silvery vapour, and in the winter season by curling threads of steam. In this way the natives of southern Africa discover the existence of hidden fountains in the desert.^[1639] Swarms of gnats flitting hither and thither, or whirling round and ascending in a column, were regarded as another sign.

When not entirely satisfied by any of the above means, they had recourse to the following experiment:^[1640] sinking a pit to the depth of about four feet and a half, they took a hemispherical pan or lead basin, and having anointed it with oil, and fastened with wax a long flake of wool to the bottom, placed it inverted in the pit. It was then covered with earth about a foot deep, and left undisturbed during a whole night. On its being taken forth in the morning, if the inside of the vessel were covered thickly with globules, and the wool were dripping wet, it was concluded there were springs beneath, the depth of which they calculated from the scantiness or profusion of the moisture. A similar trial was made with a sponge covered with reeds.

Since most streams and rivers take their rise in lofty table-lands or mountains, which by the ancients were supposed to be richer in springs in proportion to the number of their peaks, it would seem to follow, that scarcely any country in Europe should be better supplied with water than Greece. Experience, however, shows, that this in modern times is not the fact, several rivers supposed to have been of great volume in antiquity, having now dwindled into mere brooks, and innumerable streamlets and fountains become altogether dry; on which account the credit of Greek writers is often impugned, it being supposed that the natural characteristics of the country must necessarily be invariable. But this is an error. For the existence of springs and rivulets depends less perhaps on the presence of mountains than on the prevalence of forests, as Democritos^[1641] long ago observed. Now, from a variety of causes, still in active operation, the ridges and hills and lower eminences of modern Greece have been almost completely denuded of trees, along with which have necessarily disappeared the well-springs, and runnels, and cascades, and rills, and mountain tarns, which anciently shed beauty and fertility over the face of Hellas, whose highlands were once so densely clad with woods^[1642] that the peasants requiring a short cut from one valley to another, were compelled to clear themselves a pathway with the axe.^[1643] To restore to Greece, therefore, its waters, and the beauty and riches depending on them, the mountains must be again forested, and severe restraint put on the wantonness of those vagrant shepherds who constantly expose vast woods to the risk of entire destruction for the sake of procuring more delicate grass for their flocks.^[1644]

In Attica,^[1645] both fields and gardens were chiefly irrigated by means of wells which, sometimes, in extremely long and dry summers, failed entirely, thus causing a scarcity of vegetables.^[1646] The water, we find, was drawn up by precisely the same machinery as is still employed for the purpose. The invention of these conveniences of primary necessity having preceded the birth of tradition, has, by some writers, been attributed to Danaos, who is supposed to have emigrated from Egypt into Greece. Arriving, we are told, at Argos, he, upon the failure of spontaneous fountains, taught the inhabitants to dig wells, in consequence of which he was elected chief. But where was Danaos himself to have learned this art? He is said to have been an Egyptian, and Egypt is a country so entirely without springs, that two only exist within its limits, and of these but one was known to the ancients. Of wells they had none. Danaos could, therefore, if he was an Egyptian, have known nothing of springs or wells; and, if he had such knowledge, he must have come from some other land.^[1647]

Where there existed neither wells nor fountains, people were compelled to depend on rain-water, collected and preserved in cisterns.^[1648] For this purpose troughs were in some farm-houses run along the eaves both of the stables, barns, and sheep-cotes, as well as of the dwelling of the family, while others used only that which ran from the last, the roof of which was kept scrupulously clean. The water was conveyed through wooden pipes^[1649] to the cisterns, which appear to have been frequently situated in the front court.^[1650] Bad water they purified in several ways: by casting into it a little coral powder,^[1651] small linen bags of bruised barley, or a quantity of laurel leaves, or by pouring it into broad tubs and exposing it for a considerable time to the action of the sun and air. When there happened to be about the farms ponds of any magnitude, they introduced into them a number of eels or river crabs, which opened the veins of the earth and destroyed leeches.

A scarcely less important branch of the farmer’s studies was that which related to the weather and the general march of the seasons.^[1652] Above all things, it behoved him to observe diligently the rising and setting of the sun and moon. He was, likewise, carefully to note the state of the atmosphere at the disappearance of the Pleiades, since it was expected to continue the same until the winter solstice, after which a change sometimes immediately supervened, otherwise there was usually no alteration till the vernal equinox.^[1653] Another variation then took place in the character of the weather, which afterwards remained fixed till the rising of the Pleiades, undergoing successively fresh mutations at the summer solstice and the autumnal equinox. According to their observations, moreover, a rainy winter^[1654] was followed by a dry and raw spring, and the contrary; and a snowy winter by a year of abundance. But as nature by no means steadily follows this course, exhibiting many sudden and abrupt fluctuations, it was found necessary to subject her restless phenomena to a more rigid scrutiny, in order that rules might be obtained for foretelling the approach of rain, or tempests, or droughts, or a continuance of fair weather. Of these some, possibly, were founded on imperfect observation or casual coincidences, or a fanciful linking of causes and effects; while others, we cannot doubt, sprang from a practical familiarity with the subtler and more shifting elements of natural philosophy.

As nothing more obviously interests the husbandman than the seasonable arrival and departure of rains, everything connected with them, however remotely, was observed and treasured up with scrupulous accuracy. Of all the circumstances pre-signifying their approach the most certain was supposed to be the aspect of the morning; for if, before sunrise, beds of purpurescent clouds^[1655] stretched along the verge of the horizon, rain was expected that day, or the day after the morrow. The same augury they drew, though with less confidence, from the appearance of the setting sun,^[1656] especially if in winter or spring it went down through an accumulation of clouds or with masses of dusky rack on the left. Again, if, on rising, the sun looked pale, dull red, or spotted;^[1657] or, if, previously, its rays were seen streaming upwards;^[1658] or, if, immediately afterwards, a long band of clouds extended beneath it, intersecting its descending beams; or if the orient wore a sombre hue; or if piles of sable vapour towered into the welkin; or if the clouds were scattered loosely over the sky like fleeces of wool;^[1659] or came waving up from the south in long sinuous streaks—the “mares’ tails” of our nautical vocabulary—the husbandman reckoned with certainty upon rain, floods, and tempestuous winds. Among the signs of showers peculiar to the site of Athens may be reckoned these following: if a rampart of white ground-fogs begirt at night the basis of Hymettos; or, if its summits were capped with vapour;^[1660] or, if troops of mists settled in the hollow of the smaller mount, called the Springless; or, if a single cloud rested on the fane of Zeus at Ægina.^[1661] The violent roaring of the sea upon the beach was the forerunner of a gale, and they were enabled to conjecture from what quarter it was to blow, by the movements of the waters, which retreated from the shore before a north wind; while, at the approach of the sirocco, they were piled up higher than usual against the cliffs. Elsewhere, in Attica, they supposed wet weather to be foretold by the summits of Eubœa rising clear, sharp, and unusually elevated through a dense floor of exhalations, which, when they mounted and gathered in blowing weather about the peaks of Caphareus,^[1662] on the eastern shores of the island, presaged an impending storm of five days’ continuance. But here these signs concerned rather the mariner than the husbandman, since the cliffs that stretched along this coast are rugged and precipitous, and the approaches so dangerous that few vessels which are driven on it escape. Scarcely are the crews able to save themselves, unless their bark happen to be extremely light. Another portent of foul weather was the apparition of a circle about the moon, while, by the double reflection of its orb north and south, that luminary appeared to be multiplied into three. At night, also, if the nubecula,^[1663] called the Manger, in the constellation of the Crab, shone less luminously, it betokened a similar state of the atmosphere. A like inference^[1664] was drawn when the moon at three days old rose dusky; or, with blunt horns; or, with its rim, or whole disk, red; or blotted with black spots; or encircled by two halos.^[1665]

The phenomena of thunder and lightning, likewise, instructed the husbandman who was studious in the language of the heavens: thus, when thunder was heard in winter or in the morning, it betokened wind; in the evening or at noon, in summer, rain; when it lightened from every part of the heavens, both. Falling stars^[1666] likewise denoted wind or rain, originating in that part of the heavens where they appeared.

Among our own rustics the whole philosophy of rainbows has been compressed into a couple of distichs: