He knows no leisure; he has no time to live the life of a human being; the commonwealth does not exist for him; his world is his garden, more than his family.
Petr Alekseevich Kropotkin: “He knows no leisure; he has no time to live the life of a human being; the commonwealth does not exist for him; his…”
Editor's note · Context
Kropotkin describes the relentless work ethic of the Paris gardener, who sacrifices personal life for his profession.
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And yet it is easy to prove that both are totally erroneous: plenty of food could be grown on the territories of Western Europe for much more than their present populations, and an immense benefit would be derived from doing so.
Every farmer is more or less of a gardener, and he gives free scope to his inventive powers for devising some cheap type of greenhouses.
Any soil, of any desired composition, can be made by machinery.
Cottons, plain linen, and machine-made lace are now produced at such a low cost by machinery that hand-weaving evidently becomes an anachronism for the plainest descriptions of such goods.

