12.3
And when you want a bailiff, Ischomachus, do you look out for a man qualified for such a post, and then try to buy him—when you want a builder, I feel sure you inquire for a qualified man and try to get him—or do you train your bailiff’s yourself?
12.4
Of course I try to train them myself, Socrates. For the man has to be capable of taking charge in my absence; so why need he know anything but what I know myself? For if I am fit to manage the farm, I presume I can teach another man what I know myself.
12.5
Then the first requirement will be that he should be loyal to you and yours, if he is to represent you in your absence. For if a steward is not loyal, what is the good of any knowledge he may possess? None, of course; but I may tell you, loyalty to me and to mine is the first lesson I try to teach.
12.6
And how, in heaven’s name, do you teach your man to be loyal to you and yours? By rewarding him, of course, whenever the gods bestow some good thing on us in abundance.
12.7
You mean, then, that those who enjoy a share of your good things are loyal to you and want you to prosper? Yes, Socrates, I find that is the best instrument for producing loyalty.
12.8
But, now, if he is loyal to you, Ischomachus, will that be enough to make him a competent bailiff? Don’t you see that though all men, practically, wish themselves well, yet there are many who won’t take the trouble to get for themselves the good things they want to have?
