[32] “I cannot tell you that either,” replied Socrates; “I mean whether the man who does such things has the greatest power, as you affirm, or the least power, or none at all. If, for example, he was temperate, brave, and just, if all his acts were marked by judgment, I think he was a powerful man and really had the greatest might. [33] But if, on the other hand, he was cowardly, foolish, licentious, and lawless, and understood what he did in wanton insolence, then, on the contrary, I think he was a weaker man than the veriest beggar who has not even a clod of earth to break up with the pick to gain his livelihood — to say nothing of breaking through the highest mountains, the feat of which you speak. [34] For he who cannot check a fit of anger, which is often caused by mere trifles; who cannot conquer a lust for the basest things; who cannot thrust pain aside, imaginary as it often is; who cannot endure toil, even to gain pleasure; who cannot drive fear from his soul, though it avails naught in the midst of alarms but works the greatest mischief — must not such a man be greatly lacking in strength, be weaker than a woman, weaker than a eunuch? [35] Or do you call that man strong who is weaker than the softest of things? — I mean sleep, enchained by which, often without fetters, he cannot help himself, let alone others, nor call to his aid anyone willing to fight in his defence.”
[36] On hearing this, the other exclaimed: “However, I presume you know, Socrates, that of the entire inhabited world the Persian king rules over the largest and best part; for, excluding Greece, Italy, and a few other peoples scattered throughout Europe, he has made all the rest subject to him; [37] and of what we call Asia he governs everything as far as the Indies, many of whose people are said to own his sway too, as well as the greater part of Africa; while in Europe he governs Thrace and Macedonia. All these he holds in subjection, and this is the reason that he alone has received the title of ‘The Great King.’”
[38] “But I am not absolutely sure even on this point,” replied Socrates, “whether he is king of any city or hamlet at all.” “Have you alone,” interjected the other, “never heard what all the world knows?” “Yes,” he replied, “I do hear many people say just what you are saying — many, both Greeks and barbarians; but what keeps me from forming a definite opinion on the point I raise is this: [39] I do not know, my good sir, whether he is placed in right and lawful authority over all these people and is a man of the stamp I have mentioned time and again. If he is a man of good mind and heart, respects the law, cares for his subjects with an eye to their safety and welfare, and is, to begin with, happy and wise himself, as I have described him, and shares this happiness of his with others, not divorcing his own interest from that of his subjects, but rejoicing most and regarding himself as most prosperous when he sees his subjects prosperous too — then he is most powerful and a king in very truth. [40] If, on the other hand, he loves pleasure and wealth, is overbearing and lawless, and is minded to exalt himself alone to the end that he may get the most wealth and enjoy the most and greatest pleasures, leading an idle and effortless life and looking upon his subjects one and all as but slaves and ministers to his own luxury; [41] if he lacks even the quality of a good shepherd, who takes thought for the shelter and pasturing of his own flock, and, besides, keeps off wild beasts and guards it against thieves; nay, if he is the very first to plunder and destroy them and to grant the same privilege to others as though they were veritable spoil of the enemy — never should I style such a ruler either emperor or king. Much rather should I call him a tyrant and oppressor, as Apollo once called the tyrant of Sicyon — yea, even though he had many tiaras, many sceptres, and many obeyed his behests.”
Such was the sage’s habitual message while he constantly incited to virtue and tried to make both rulers and subjects better.
[42] In a similar vein his successors have spoken about government and kingship, following his most wise doctrine as closely as they might. [43] And the very terms they use make the distinctions clear at the outset. “Government” is defined as the lawful ordering of men and as oversight over men in accordance with law; “monarchy,” as an irresponsible government where the king’s will is law; [44] “tyrant,” or rather “tyranny,” on the contrary, as the arbitrary and lawless exploitation of men by one regarded as having superior force on his side.
[45] The three most conspicuous forms of government — governments based on law and justice and enjoying the favour of heaven and fortune — are expressly named. One is the first to come into existence and the most practicable — that which forms the subject of the present address — where we have a city, or a number of peoples, or the whole world, well ordered by one good man’s judgment and virtue; second, the so-called “aristocracy,” [46] where not one man, nor a considerable number of men, but a few, and they the best, are in control — a form of government, at length, far from being either practicable or expedient. It seems to me that Homer too had this in mind when he said:
“The rule
Of the many is not well. One must be chief
In war, and one the king, to whom the son
Of Cronus, crafty in counsel, the sceptre doth give.”
[47] Third, possibly the most impracticable one of all, the one that expects by the self-control and virtue of the common people some day to find an equitable constitution based on law. Men call it “democracy” — a specious and inoffensive name, if the thing were but practicable.
[48] To these forms of government — three in number, as I have said — are opposed three degenerate forms not based on law: The first is “tyranny,” where one man’s high-handed use of force is the ruin of others. Next comes oligarchy, harsh and unjust, arising from the aggrandizement of a certain few wealthy rascals at the expense of the needy masses. [49] The next in order is a motley impulsive mob of all sorts and conditions of men who know absolutely nothing but are always kept in a state of confusion and anger by unscrupulous demagogues, just as a wild rough sea is whipped this way and that by the fierce blasts.
These degenerate forms I have merely touched on in passing, though I could point to many mischances and disasters that each of them has suffered in the past, [50] but it is my duty to discuss more carefully the happy and god-given polity at present in force. Now there are many close parallels and striking analogies to this form of government to be found in nature, where herds of cattle and swarms of bees indicate clearly that it is natural for the stronger to govern and care for the weaker. However, there could be no more striking or beautiful illustration than that government of the universe which is under the control of the first and best god.
[51] A ruler of this character is, to begin with, highly favoured of the gods, seeing that he enjoys their greatest respect and confidence, and he will give the first and chief place to religion, not merely confessing but also believing in his heart that there are gods, to the end that he too may have worthy governors under him. [52] And he believes that his own oversight is advantageous to others just as the rule of the gods is to himself. Furthermore, being firmly resolved in his own heart never to receive a gift from wicked men, he believes that the gods also do not delight in the offerings or sacrifices of the unjust, but accept the gifts made by the good alone. Accordingly, he will be zealous to worship them with these also without stint. Of a truth he will never cease honouring them with noble deeds and just acts. Each one, indeed, of the gods he will propitiate as far as within him lies. [53] Virtue he regards as holiness and vice as utter impiety, being firmly persuaded that not only those who rob temples or blaspheme the gods are sinners and accursed but, much more so, the cowardly, the unjust, the licentious, the fools, and, in general, those who act contrary to the power and will of the gods. [54] Furthermore, he believes not only in gods but also in good spirits and demi-gods, which are the souls of good men that have cast off this mortal nature; and in confirming this belief he does no small service to himself as well.
[55] Then, the care bestowed on his subjects he does not consider an incidental thing or mere drudgery, when weighed down, let us say, by
cares, but as his own work and profession. And when he is otherwise engaged, he does not feel that he is doing anything worth while or that he is attending to his own business; it is only when he helps men that he thinks he is doing his duty, having been appointed to this work by the greatest god, whom it is not right for him to disobey in aught nor yet to feel aggrieved, believing, as he does, that these tasks are his duty. [56] For no one is so effeminate or enslaved to pleasure as not to like his own occupation even if it chance to be laborious. A sea-captain, for example, never finds his toil at sea irksome, nor a farmer his work in tilling the soil; never is the huntsman wearied by the hardships of the chase; and yet both farming and hunting are most laborious. [57] No indeed, the king does not object to toil and discomfort in behalf of others, nor does he deem his lot any the worse simply because he has to face the most tasks and have the most troubles. For he sees that the sun, too, although inferior to none of the gods, frets not because, to preserve man and life, he must accomplish all his many tasks throughout the ages.
[58] And again, he considers courage, self-control, and prudence necessary even for those who disregard justice and wish to play the tyrant, if they are not speedily to perish; nay, he sees that they stand in need of these qualities even more than those others, [59] and that the more such a man is beset by those who hate him and by those who plot against him, while he has no one on whom he can rely or look to for sympathy; so much the more, if he is to remain safe for any time, must he be on the alert and use his wits, guarding against defeat by his enemies and plotting to have full knowledge of the plotters, and so much the more must he abstain from pleasure and refuse to yield under any pressure to the allurement of high living, sloth, and carnal pleasure — yea, much more than the man beloved by all who has no one plotting against him.
[60] Therefore, if the unjust ruler must have the same anxieties as the other — or even more — and much more exacting toil, if he must equally steel himself against pleasure, must equally face danger, how much better it is for him to show justice and virtue rather than wickedness and injustice in doing all this, to win credit rather than censure for his acts, to have the love of men and gods instead of their hate? [61] Besides, man’s present is short and uncertain; the most of his life is filled with remembrance of the past and expectation of the future. Which, therefore, of the two men do we think finds joy in remembrance, and which remorse? Which do we think is encouraged by his expectations and which dismayed? Therefore of necessity the life of the good king is more pleasant also.
[62] Once more, you see that God has everywhere appointed the superior to care for and rule over the inferior: skill, for instance, over unskilfulness, strength over weakness; and for the foolish he has made the wise to have care and thought, to watch and plan; and with all these responsibilities governing is by no means easy; nay, it is laborious and does not get the greater share of relaxation and ease, but rather of care and toil. [63] Thus, on board ship the passengers may disregard the sea and not even look at it; yes, not even know “where on earth they are,” as the saying is — and many do sail the sea after this fashion in fair weather, some gambling, some singing, some feasting the livelong day. Then when a storm comes on, they wrap themselves up and await the event, while some few retire and do not rise from their beds until they reach port. [64] But the pilot — he must look out to sea, must scan the sky, must see the land in time; nay, nor should what is in the depths escape him either, else he will unexpectedly strike submerged rocks or hidden reefs. [65] He is the only one who during the night has less chance to sleep than the night-watch; while by day, if he does by any chance snatch a wink of sleep, even this is anxious and fitful, since he shouts out frequently, “Furl the sail,” or “Hard on the tiller,” or gives some other nautical command. And so, even when dozing, he has more thought for the ship than any of the others who are widest awake.
[66] To take another illustration: On a campaign, the individual soldier sees to weapons and food for himself alone, and besides, does not furnish them himself but expects to find them ready at hand. It is only his own health, only his own safety that he has to think of. [67] But it is the general’s duty to see that all are well equipped, that all are provided with shelter, and to furnish sufficient food not only for the men but for the horses as well; and if all do not have their supplies, he is much more vexed than he would be if ill himself; while the safety of his men he considers just as important as his own. Indeed, victory is impossible if the soldiers be not saved, and to win victory many good men choose even to die.
[68] Again, the body of each one of us, being devoid of intelligence, is not in a position to help itself, nor by its very nature can it take thought for itself; indeed, when the soul departs, it cannot endure even a short time, but suffers immediate decay and dissolution; whereas the soul feels every care in its behalf, is troubled by every fancy when it is hurt, and is greatly distressed. [69] Only when the soul is present is the body sensitive to pain; but the soul is distressed before the pain comes; often, too, through foreboding when it is not going to come. As for death, the body never feels it, but the soul understands it and suffers greatly, now rescuing the body from disease, now from war, rescuing it from storms and rescuing it from the sea. So, while from every point of view the soul is more subject to hardship and suffering than the body, yet it is the more divine and regal part.
[70] Then compare the lots of man and woman. Now everyone would admit that man is stronger than woman and more fitted to lead. Consequently, to her falls the larger share of the household tasks, and, for the most part, she remains unacquainted with storms and wars, unacquainted with dangers in general; [71] while it is the man’s part, on the other hand, to serve in the army, to sail the sea, and to do the hard outdoor work. Yet no one would on that account deem women happier than men. [72] Nay, every man whose weakness and lack of virility have led him to emulate their life, as Sardanapallus did, is to this day branded with the shame of it.
[73] But this is the best illustration: You see how greatly the sun, being a god, surpasses man in felicity and yet throughout the ages does not grow weary in ministering to us and doing everything to promote our welfare. [74] For what else would one say that the sun accomplishes throughout the ages except what man stands in need of? Does he not cause and mark out the seasons, give growth and nourishment to all living creatures and to all plant life? Does he not lavish upon us the fairest and most delightful of visions, even his light, without which we should have no profit of the other beautiful things, be they in heaven or on earth; nay, not even of life itself? And he never grows weary in showering these blessings upon us. [75] Verily one might say that he endures a servitude most exacting; for, if he were to be careless but for a moment and leave his appointed track, absolutely nothing would prevent the whole heavens, the whole earth, and the whole sea from going to wrack and ruin, and all this fair and blissful order from ending in the foulest and most dread disorder. [76] But now, as though touching the strings of the lyre with an artist’s touch, he never swerves from his pure and exquisite harmony, ever moving along his one recurrent track. [77] And since the earth needs warmth to bring forth her produce, to give it increase, and to bring it to perfection, since animals need it likewise both for the preservation of their bodies and for their natural pleasure, and since we, being so utterly dependent in our helplessness, need it above all others, he brings on summer step by step as he approaches nearer and nearer to our habitation, that he may give growth to everything, nourish everything, perfect everything, and spread a divine and wondrous feast of good cheer before man.
[78] But when, on the other hand, we and all other things come to need the opposite temperature — for our bodies need to be braced up by cold, plants need hardening, and the earth needs rain — he goes away from us again, withdrawing a moderate distance; [79] and with such perfect nicety of adjustment does he observe his bounds with respect to our advantage that, if in his approach he got a little nearer, he would set everything on fire
, and if he went a little too far in his departure, everything would be stiffened with frost. [80] And since a sudden change would be too much for our weakness, he brings all this to pass gradually, and in a way he accustoms us insensibly in the spring to endure the heat of summer and in the late autumn gives preliminary training to support the chill of winter — in the one case taking off the chill of winter little by little, in the other, reducing the heat of summer, so that we reach either extreme without discomfort.
[81] And furthermore, since it is so great a pleasure to see the light and impossible to do anything without it, and since, when we are asleep, we do absolutely nothing and make no use of the light, he has made day the time requisite for our waking hours, and turned into night the time necessary for sleep, making a complete revolution around the earth and sending now these men to rest or awakening them, now those: departing from them who no longer need his light and appearing to those who need it again in their turn. And he never grows weary of bringing these things to pass throughout the ages.
[82] But where a god, the fairest and most conspicuous of all, does not neglect his eternal watch over man, can it possibly be right for man, intelligent object of the god’s care, to feel oppressed by similar duties? Should he not, so far as in him lies, imitate the god’s power and goodness? [83] Reasoning thus, the good king endures without repining. He realizes too that toil brings health and salvation and goodly report as well; while, on the other hand, luxurious ease brings quite the opposite. Then again, toil endured ever grows less and easier to support, the while it makes pleasure greater and less harmful if it follows the toil. Ease, on the other hand, makes toil appear more and more difficult in that it lessens pleasure and blunts its edge. [84] The man who lives in the lap of luxury and never puts his hand to a single task, ends by being unable to endure any task or to feel any pleasure at all, however intense. [85] Consequently, he who loves to toil and exercises self-control is not only better qualified to be king but is able to live a much more pleasant life than those in the opposite case.
Delphi Complete Works of Dio Chrysostom Page 6
