Dio Chrysostom, Speeches

§ 40.36 For even if the doctrine will seem to some an airy fancy and one possessing no affinity at all with yourselves, you should observe that these things, being by nature indestructible and divine and regulated by the purpose and power of the first and greatest god, are wont to be preserved as a result of their mutual friendship and concord for ever, not only the more powerful and greater, but also those reputed to be the weaker. But were this partnership to be dissolved and to be followed by sedition, their nature is not so indestructible or incorruptible as to escape being thrown into confusion and being subjected to what is termed the inconceivable and incredible destruction, from existence to non-existence.

§ 40.37 For the predominance of the ether of which the wise men speak — the ether wherein the ruling and supreme element of its spiritual power they often do not shrink from calling fire — taking place as it does with limitation and gentleness within certain appointed cycles, occurs no doubt with entire friendship and concord. On the other hand, the greed and strife of all else, manifesting itself in violation of law, contains the utmost risk of ruin, a ruin destined never to engulf the entire universe for the reason that complete peace and righteousness are present in it and all things everywhere serve and attend upon the law of reason, obeying and yielding to it.

§ 40.38 For example, do you not observe how the sun gives place to night, permitting the more obscure heavenly bodies to rise and shine, and again how it allows the moon to flood with light the whole earth during the absence of the greater luminary? And again, how the stars make way for the sun and do not feel they are being mistreated or destroyed through that god's power? And again, how the sun sometimes about mid-day is darkened when the moon passes over it — the moon to which he himself gives his light — and furthermore, how the sun often is hidden by the most tenuous clouds or by some thin vapor arising near ponds and rivers, so that at times the sun is completely shut in, while at other times it sends its ray through the vapour thin and feeble?

§ 40.39 And again, the ceaseless circling dance of the planets, which never get in each other's way? Moreover, the earth is content with having drawn the lowest place, like a ship's prop, and the water with having been poured about it, and, above them both is the atmosphere, soft and fresh, and, highest of all and all-embracing, is the ether, a divine fire encompassing the others. Now if these beings, strong and great as they are, submit to their partnership with one another and continue free from hostility, cannot such puny, petty towns of ordinary mortals, such feeble tribes dwelling in a mere fraction of the earth, maintain peace and quiet and be neighbours to one another without uproar and disturbance?

§ 40.40 Why, birds make their nests near each other, yet do not plot against each other or quarrel over food and twigs; and ants do not quarrel either, though they have their burrows close together, often carrying home grain from the same threshing-floor, but instead they make way for each other and turn off the trail and co operate frequently; no more do several swarms of bees, though they range over the same meadow, neglect their labours and wrangle over the nectar of the flowers.

§ 40.41 What is more, herds of cattle and droves of horses often mingle in the pasture and graze quietly and tranquilly, insomuch that to the eye the two breeds form but a single group. And again, goats and sheep which have mingled in the pasture and passed the day together are easily and gently separated by their keepers. However, human beings are worse than cattle and creatures of the wild, it would seem, in regard to friendship and partnership with one another. For what Nature has done in the cause of friendshi turns out, as we can see, to be a source of enmity and hatred. For example, the first and high friendship is that of parents toward children....

§ 64.1 The Sixty-fourth Discourse: On Fortune (II) The charges which men lay to the account of Fortune I would consider to be highest encomia in her favour. For example, the inscrutable vicissitudes in their affairs they ascribe to her, and whenever they unwisely set their hands to certain projects and meet with failure they imagine they have been robbed of their purposes by her, since, in their opinion, she could do any and every thing if she only would. Again, you may hear farmers, shippers, and men of wealth blaming her for their loss of money, dandies for their persons, Pantheia for her husband, Croesus for his son, Astyages for his defeat, and Polycrates for his capture. Moreover, the Persians blamed Fortune after the slaying of Cyrus, as did the Macedonians after Alexander's death.

§ 64.2 Furthermore, men even reproach Fortune for some of their own emotional weaknesses — Medea for her passion, Midas for his prayer, Phaedra for her false accusation, Alcmaeon for his wandering, Orestes for his madness. But I will tell you also a certain Cyprian tale if you wish. The days of old produced women of distinction as well as men — Rhodogune the warrior, Semiramis the queen, Sappho the poetess, Timandra the beauty; just so Cyprus too had its Demonassa, a woman gifted in both statesmanship and law-giving.

§ 64.3 She gave the people of Cyprus the following three laws: a woman guilty of adultery shall have her hair cut off and be a harlot — her daughter became an adulteress, had her hair cut off according to the law, and practised harlotry; whoever commits suicide shall be cast out without a burial — this was the second law of Demonassa; third, a law forbidding the slaughter of a plough- ox. Of the two sons which she had, the one met his death for having slain an ox, while the other, who slew himself, she refrained from burying.

§ 64.4 Now for a time she not only bore with fortitude the loss of her children but also persevered in her regulations; but having observed a cow lowing in sorrow over a calf which was dying, and having recognized her own misfortune in the case of another, Demonassa melted bronze and leaped into the molten mass. And there used to be at that place an ancient tower holding a bronze image, an image embedded in bronze, both in order to insure the stability of the statue and also as a representation of the story; and near by on a tablet there was an inscription: Wise was I, yet in everything ill-starred.

§ 64.5 Well then, let not Fortune be condemned unheard, and let us not fear the clamour of those who accuse her. For perhaps even she herself might aid us somewhat in speaking well of her. In the first place, the artists are believed to have revealed her power by the way they have equipped her. For, to begin with, she stands ready for her tasks; secondly, in her right hand she holds a rudder and, as one might say, she is sailing a ship. But why, then was this? Was it in the belief that sailors more than others need Fortune, or was it because she steers our lives like some great shi and preserves all on board — the Assyrians until the wanton luxury of Sardanapalus; the Medes until the rearing of Cyrus; the Persians until they crossed the sea; the Athenians until their capture; Croesus until the visit of Solon?

§ 64.6 At first a fortunate man was Oidipus. Yes, for Fortune, trying to provide freedom from suffering, granted him ignorance, which was tantamount to freedom from suffering. Then at one and the same time he reached the end of his good fortune and began to understand. For my part I call even his blindness good fortune. For let Tellus behold his children, and Cydippe, and Aeolus, and whoever else may have been fortunate as a parent; yet by his blindness Oidipus Will gain escape from shameful sights.

§ 64.7 And, to resume, in her other hand the goddess holds fruits plucked and ready for use, indicating the multitude of good things she herself provides — this, you see, would be both Golden Age and Isles of the Blest, as it were, with foods for the taking, and Horn of Heracles, and life of the Cyclopes all in one, since to those who have toiled for their living an abundance of good things comes thereafter spontaneously. But Tantalus, you know, was idle in old age; on that account, therefore, he was prosperous only as far as his lips, fortunate only with his eyes, while all those things he longed for — lake, fruits, food, and drink — vanished, snatched away by Fortune as by a blast of wind.

§ 64.8 Again, Fortune has been given many names among men. Her impartiality has been named Nemesis or Retributive Justice; her obscurity, Elpis or Hope; her inevitability, Moira or Fate; her righteousness, Themis or Law — truly a deity of many names and many ways. Farmers have given her the name Demeter; shepherds Pan; sailors Leucothea, pilots Dioscuri. With ease the eminent he curbs, the meek Exalts, makes straight the crooked, blasts the proud.

§ 64.9 This refers, of course, to Zeus, holding in his right hand his weapon and in his left his sceptre, for the reason that to martial men he gives kingship too. Furthermore, Euripides censures the sailor Untimely seeking to cross the broad sea's waves; he also utters reproof in the following, when he says To slender hopes do they entrust themselves.

§ 64.10 O son of Mnesarchides, you were a poet, to be sure, yet not at all wise! For they entrust this lives to neither pitch nor ropes, nor is it a two-inch plank of pine that keeps them safe; nay, they entrust them to a sure and mighty thing, Fortune. A weak thing is wealth unless accompanied by Fortune; an uncertain thing is friendship unless Fortune bears a hand. She preserves alike the sick man in his extremity, the swimmer amidst the waves, Agamemnon sailing with his thousand ships, and Odysseus drifting on his raft.

§ 64.11 What dost thou fear, thou craven? Dost fear the vastness of the sea? Poseidon, indeed, will spy thee, summon his winds, seize his trident, and stir up all the blasts; yet he will not slay thee, for Fortune wills it not. Thus do thou wander now upon the deep, With many an evil mischance, till the day When thou dost meet with men beloved of Zeus. An utterance of a god vanquished by Fortune!

§ 64.12 What is more, the ancient stock of your ancestors, those autochthonous and earliest Athenians who boasted the soil as mother, Demeter as nurse, and Athena as namesake and ally, Fortune first led forth from Athens to Euboea; but since if they remained there the sea could not please them nor the land support, and since also they could not endure the disgrace of what had happened, their having turned islanders instead of occupants of the mainland, Fortune made a second and better plan.

§ 64.13 For though Euboea is truly a venerable island, still who among you ever was able to endure dwelling in a rugged land, or being neighbour to narrow waters and subjected to many shifts of condition, more numerous than the shifts of current in the strait? At one moment you must needs endure the Boeotians and the stupidity of the Thebans, and the next it was the Athenians, who treated you no longer as sons, but rather as slaves. So it came to pass that the goddess took and established you here, with one of her hands contriving and directing the voyage, and with the other abundantly providing and bestowing her fruits. Now the idea in what yet remains to say it is difficult to portray.

§ 64.14 But as for me, O Mistress Fortune — for to thee, no doubt, my words would justly be addressed — if some one should raise me aloft and transport me through the sky, either, as it were, on the back of some Pegasus or in some winged car of Pelops, offering me the whole earth and its cities, neither would I choose the luxury of Lydia or the thrift of Attica or the meagre living of Laconia, nor would I choose Croton or Sybaris, because they do not toil, or the Scythians, because they do not farm, or the Egyptians, because they farm for others,

§ 64.15 And Libya, where the lambs have horns at birth — a shepherd's haven! No, I would not choose Egyptian Thebes, Which hath a hundred gates, and at each one Two hundred men go forth with chariots and steeds — a life for grooms and gate-keepers! In Delos such a tree I once did see Beside Apollo's altar — an altar does not satisfy my wants, since I have naught to sacrifice thereon; no more do trees, if they afford no food.'tis rugged, yet a goodly nurse of youth — This land not only is not rugged but a nurse of youth besides.

§ 64.16 O Athens, august mistress of them all! Say not so, fellow: those Athenians no more are masters. How beauteous too thy shipyard is to view. Nay, rather say ugly, after the Hellespont and Lysander. Peiraeus is a lovely sight. Yes, for your mind's eye still sees it with its walls. What other city yet obtained such groves! It did have, yes, but it was ravaged and, like a woman in her mourning, it had its tresses shorn. For climate, so they say,'tis nobly set. Indeed! how so, since they are subject to plague and sickness, and more of them are slain by their climate than by the foe?

§ 64.17 Now let no one be vexed that I speak thus of his forebears. We could not attain first rank in any other way than by competing with those who are first. Why, not only did a certain warrior of old take pride in having proved superior to his sire, but even for the Athenians it is no disgrace, ancestors of ours though they be, to be outstript by their sons. For they will share your merit while being surpassed in their own. How, then, could you help being grateful to Fortune for all this — both for parentage, in that you are Greek, and for your changed condition, in that, though once poor, you now are prosperous? Socrates, at any rate, counted himself fortunate for many reasons — not only because he was a rational being, but also because he was an Athenian.

§ 64.18 Diogenes the Cynic, on the other hand, with boorishness and downright discourtesy was wont to rail at Fortune, claiming that, though she shot many shafts with him as her target, she could not hit him. I cannot endure a philosopher's behaving so brazenly. Do not lie about Fortune, Diogenes, for the reason why she does not shoot you is that she has no wish to do so; on the contrary, if Fortune did wish it, she could easily hit you wherever you might be. While I do not use those “pithy laconic expressions” — slaves to the Persians, Dionysius at Corinth, Socrates' condemnation, Xenophon's exile, Pherecydes' death, luck of Anaxarchus — still, let me ask you, with how many shafts has she hit this difficult mark itself? She made you an exile; she brought you to Athens; she introduced you to Antisthenes; she sold you into Crete. But if staff and wallet and a meagre, simple mode of living serve you as a cloak of affectation, you have Fortune to thank even for these things, for it is by grace of Fortune that you practise philosophy.

§ 64.19 Again, there was once an Athenian general, Timotheus, who was fortunate in everything and could not stand being made the butt of jokes; and one day he committed some act of effrontery against Fortune, and in turn he began to be unfortunate. Who would ever have expected that a barber would become ruler of the Indians; that a shepherd would become king of the Lydians; that a woman would become leader of Asia; that a tunic and a woman would cause the death of Heracles; that a slave and a goblet would cause the death of Alexander? The explanation is that Fortune has within herself the essence of royalty ever in fullest measure, and she destroys those who exalt themselves unduly. For instance, Alexander did many daring things -

§ 64.20 he could not stand being called the son of Philip; he lied about Zeus; he scorned the Dioscuri; he abused Dionysus, though indulging so lavishly in that god's gifts. Moreover, he slew his saviour Cleitus, the handsome Philotas, the aged Parmenion, his teacher Callisthenes; he aimed to slay Aristotle and had planned the death of Antipater. Therefore Fortune made him while yet alive admit that he was a human being.

§ 64.21 At any rate when he had been wounded he said to his friends, “Why, this fluid which I behold is not ichor but real blood!” But by his dying he admitted fully that Fortune is a mighty being and truly invincible. At any rate after escaping from the Theban hoplites, the Thessalian cavalry, the Aitolian javelin-throwers, the Thracians with their daggers, the martial Persians, the tribe of irresistible Medes, from lofty mountains, impassable rivers, unscalable cliffs, from Darius, Porus, and many other tribes and kings I might name, yet in Babylon, remote from battle and from wounds, our warrior died!

§ 64.22 But what should one say of those who took over his empire, or of those who followed after them, with their braggart titles — Thunderbolts, Takers-of cities, Eagles, Gods? One of the lot death proved mistaken; another found Fortune to be a loftier being than himself, though he had considered her pedestrian; our Taker-of cities, Demetrius, was taken captive and died a shameful death from wine and drunkenness, beleaguered as he was by Fortune! Why, then, are tyrants proud of their ramparts? Why does Amphion sing, Deioces toil, Semiramis build, Apollo work for hire, Meles encompass the wall with his lion? For Cyrus will master the Medes, Zopyrus the Babylonians, a Mardian Sardis, and the horse Troy!

§ 64.23 Yes, as some one has put it, Fortune is a great weight in the scales, or rather the whole thing. She found the infant Pindar lying exposed in Boeotia, Telephus in Arcadia, the kings of Rome in Italy; and to Pindar she sent honey- bees, to the kings of Rome shepherds, to Telephus a deer, and to Cyrus either a dog or a woman. Eumenes was a wagoner's son, but for all that he became king; Heracles was Alexander's son, yet he did not become king; in fact, his body, denied the rites of burial, was brought to Olympias, and after mourning for him she too died, a god's mother, forsooth!

§ 64.24 Moreover the mother of Darius made obeisance, not merely to Alexander, but, what is more disgraceful, to Hephaestion. What about the king of the Libyans? Did he not sack five hundred cities of the Romans? Did he not lift up his tunic and display it to his fellow townsmen filled with Roman finger rings, each of which he had as loot from foes he had slaughtered? yet after he had done all this he met an ignominious death, having contended much with Fortune all in vain.

§ 64.25 This, it seems to me, is why men entrust all their important matters to Fortune, making their public offices and generalships subject to allotment; brothers also divide their patrimony in that way. And so Polyneices too, if indeed he had been well advised, ought to have drawn lots with his brother for the throne; but as it was, not only was he himself slain, he destroyed his brother as well, all because he referred the matter to priority of birth and not to Fortune.

§ 64.26 Now shake the lot in turn and see who draws; For the well-greaved Achaeans he will aid — and, having drawn, aid he did; however, Hector was defeated because he trusted to judgement and not to Fortune. For on his threshold Zeus has set two jars. These are storage jars for mankind in the keeping of the gods; however, it is Fortune who administers them with regard to what is allotted — to orator or to general, to rich or poor, to old or young.

§ 64.27 To Croesus she gives gold, to Candaules a wife, to Peleus a sword, to Nestor a shield, to Pterelas golden locks, to Nisus a purple tress, to Alcibiades beauty, to Socrates wisdom, to Aristeides uprightness, to Spartans land, to Athenians a sea. Then in turn she takes from these and gives to others. And it seems to me that the life of man in its daily vicissitudes is in no wise different from a procession.

§ 72.1 The Seventy-second Discourse: On Personal Appearance Why on earth is it that, whenever men see somebody wearing a tunic and nothing more, they neither notice him nor make sport of him? Possibly because they reason that the fellow is a sailor and that there is no occasion to mock him on this account. Similarly, if they should spy some one wearing the garb of a farmer or of a shepherd — that is, wearing an exomis or wrapped in a hide or muffled in a kosymba — that are not irritated, nay, they do not even notice it to begin with, feeling that the garb is appropriate to the man who follows such a calling.

§ 72.2 Take our tavern-keepers too; though people day after day see them in front of their taverns with their tunics belted high, they never jeer at them but, on the contrary, they would make fun of them if they were not so attired, considering that their appearance is peculiarly suited to their occupation. But when they see some one in a cloak but no tunic, with flowing hair and beard, they find it impossible to keep quiet in his presence or to pass by in silence; instead, they step up to him and try to irritate him and either mock at him or speak insultingly, or sometimes they catch hold of him and try to drag him off, provided they see one who is not himself very strong and note that no one else is at hand to help him; and they do this although they know that the garb he wears is customary with the philosophers, as they are called, yes, as one might say, has been prescribed for them.

§ 72.3 But what is even more astounding still is this. Here in your city from time to time are to be seen persons, some of whom are wearing felt caps on their heads — as today certain of the Thracians who are called Getae do, and as Spartans and Macedonians used to do in days gone by — and others wearing a turban and trousers, as I understand Persians and Bactrians and Parthians and many other barbarians do; and some, still more outlandish than these, are accustomed to visit your city wearing feathers erect on their heads, for instance the Nasamonians; yet the citizens do not have the effrontery to make any trouble at all even for these, or to approach and annoy them. And yet as for Getae or Persians or Nasamonians, while some of them are seen here in no great numbers and others rarely visit here,

§ 72.4 the whole world today is virtually crowded with persons such as I have described, yes, I might almost say that they have grown more numerous than the shoemakers and fullers and jesters or the workers at any other occupation whatever. Therefore in our day too possibly it could be said with good reason that every catboat is under sail and every cow is dragging a plow.

§ 72.5 Moreover, it is not for the above reason alone that this spectacle is familiar to them, nay, they also have before their eyes the statues in the temples — as, for example, statues of Zeus and Poseidon and many other gods — arrayed in this type of costume. For while among Egyptians and Phoenicians and certain other barbarians you do not find the same type of statues as you do, I believe, among the Greeks, but far different, here you find the same. Likenesses of men too, citizens of your city, they have before their eyes both in the market-place and in the temples, likenesses of generals and kings set up in this guise with flowing beards. By why need I tell you all this?

§ 72.6 For I might almost say that most of the Greeks also feel as you do about this matter, and their familiarity with the sight does not keep them from teasing or even insulting whenever they spy a man of that appearance — I mean, whenever they see one of the common sort of no repute, whom they do not fear as being able to retaliate; for of course those who have that ability they virtually cringe before and admire! Well, possibly what goes on is like this: the sailors and the farmers and shepherds, yes, and the Persians and Nasamonians too, the people believe do not look down on them or have any concern with them, and so they do not give them a thought.

§ 72.7 The philosophers, however, they view with misgivings, suspecting that they scorn them and attribute to them vast ignorance and misfortune; and they suspect that, though the philosophers do not laugh at them in public, privately among themselves they view them in that light, holding that the unenlightened are all pitiable creatures, beginning, in fact, with those who are reputed to be rich and prosperous, persons whom these mockers themselves envy and believe to be little different from the gods in felicity; furthermore, they suspect that these philosophers disparage and ridicule them as being extravagant in eating and drinking, as wanting a soft bed to sleep on and the company of young women and boys whenever they repose, and plenty of money, and to be admired and looked up to by the mob, things which they believe to be more important and better than anything else.

§ 72.8 Because of this suspicion they of course dislike those who do not admire or prize the same things as they do and do not hold the same opinion about the things of chief importance. Therefore they seize for themselves the initiative in reviling and jeering at the philosophers as being luckless and foolish, knowing that if they succeed in showing that the philosophers are senseless and daft they will at the same time also prove themselves to be prudent and sensible; whereas if they give way to them, recognizing that the philosophers know what they should and are highly estimable, at the same time they will be admitting that they themselves are luckless and thick-witted and know absolutely none of the things free men should.

§ 72.9 Again, if they see a man rigged out as a sailor, they know that he is about to put to sea, and if they see some one else rigged out as a farmer, they know that he is about to engage in farming, and of course they know also that he who is clad in shepherd's garb is on his way to his sheep and will spend his time attending to them, and so, since they are not irritated by any of these, they let them alone; but when they see a man in the garb of the philosopher, they reason in his case that it is not for sailing or for farming or for tending sheep that he is thus arrayed, but rather that he has got himself ready to deal with human beings, aiming to admonish them and put them to the test and not to flatter or to spare any one of them, but, on the contrary, aiming to reprove them to best of his ability by his words and to show what sort of persons they are.

§ 72.10 They cannot, therefore, look upon the philosophers with any pleasure, but instead they clash with them and fight with them, just as boys too cannot look with pleasure upon any whom they see in the guise of tutors and prepared as if they meant to rebuke them and not to allow them to go astray or be careless. In truth, if the boys were at liberty to mock at and insult such persons, there is nothing they would rather do than that. However, not all have this motive in coming up and making themselves a nuisance; on the contrary, there are persons who indulge in this kind of curiosity and, in a way, are not bad persons either.

§ 72.11 These approach any whom, because of their dress, they take to be philosophers, expecting to hear from them some bit of wisdom which they could not hear from any one else, because they have heard regarding Socrates that he was not only wise but also accustomed to speak words of wisdom to those who approached him, and also regarding Diogenes, that he too was well provided with statement and answer on each and every topic. And the masses still remember the sayings of Diogenes, some of which he may have spoken himself, though some too were composed by others.

§ 72.12 Indeed, as for the maxims of the Seven Sages, they hear that these were even inscribed as dedications at Delphi in days gone by, firstfruits, as it were, of the wisdom of those men and at the same time intended for the edification of mankind, the idea being that these maxims were truly divine, and if I may say so, even more divine than the responses which the Pythian priestess was wont to give as she sat upon her tripod and filled herself with the breath of the god. For the response which is made to each for himself he listens to and then goes his way, and such responses are not dedicated and thereby made known to all mankind too; but the maxims of the Seven Sages have been appointed for the common use of all who visit the god, as being profitable for all alike to know and to obey.

§ 72.13 And there are those who think that Aesop too was somewhat like the Seven Sages, that while he was wise and sensible, yet he was crafty too and clever at composing tales such as they themselves would most enjoy to hear. And possibly they are not wholly mistaken in their suppositions and in reality Aesop did in this way try to admonish mankind and show them wherein they were in error, believing that they would be most tolerant toward him if they were amused by his humour and his tales — just as children, when their nurses tell them stories, not only pay attention to them but are amused as well. As the result, then, of this belief, that they are going to hear from us too some such saying as Aesop used to utter, or Socrates, or Diogenes, they draw near and annoy and cannot leave in peace whomever they may see in this costume, any more than the birds can when they see an owl.

§ 72.14 Indeed, this is why Aesop composed a fable which I will relate. The birds came together to call upon the owl, and they begged her to withdraw from the shelter afforded by the human habitations and to transfer her nest to the trees, just like themselves, and to their branches, “whence,” they declared, “it is actually possible to sing a clearer note.” And in fact, as the fable has it, they stood ready to settle upon an oak, which was just then starting to grow, as soon as it should reach its prime, and to enjoy its green foliage. However, the story continues, the owl advised the birds not to do this and not to exult in the shoot of a plant whose nature it is to bear mistletoe, a bane to feathered folk.

§ 72.15 But the birds not only did not applaud the owl for her advice, but, quite the reverse, they took delight in the oak as it grew, and when it was of proper size they alighted on it and sang. But because the mistletoe had grown on it, they now were easily captured by the men and repented of their conduct and admired the owl for her advice. And even to this day they feel this way about her, believing her to be shrewd and wise, and on this account they wish to get near her, believing that they are deriving some benefit from association with her; but if they do, they will approach her, I fancy, all in vain and to their cost. For though that owl of olden days was really wise and able to give advice, those of today merely have her feathers, eyes, and beak, but in all else they are more foolish than the other birds.

§ 72.16 Therefore they cannot benefit even themselves; for otherwise they would not be kept at the bird-catcher's, caged and in servitude. Just so, though each of us has the garb of Socrates and Diogenes, in intellect we are far from being like those famous men, or from living as they did, or from uttering such noble thoughts. Therefore, for no other reason than because of our personal appearance, we, like the owls, collect a great company of those who in truth are birds, being fools ourselves besides being annoyed by others of like folly.

§ 77.1 The Seventy-seventh/eighth Discourse: On Envy DIO: Is it really for these and similar reasons that Hesiod came to be regarded as a wise man among the Greeks and by no means unworthy of that reputation, as being one who composed and chanted his poems, not by human art, but because he had held converse with the Muses and had become a pupil of those very beings? Whence it inevitably follows that whatever entered his mind he also expressed with both music and wisdom and in no instance without a purpose, as is clearly illustrated by the verse I have in mind. INTERLOCUTOR: What verse? DIO: Both potter at potter doth rage and joiner at joiner.

§ 77.2 INTER: Many other verses of Hesiod's will be seen to have been well expressed about both men and gods, and, I may almost add, about more important matters than the sort just mentioned; yet here too, no doubt, he has expressed himself very truthfully as well as with experience of human nature. DIO: Shall we, then, consider them more carefully? INTER: Why, how will so large a gathering bear with us if we discuss such matters? DIO: Why not; have they not come to hear wise words and about wise words? INTER: They would say so, it seems to me. DIO: But they do not regard Hesiod as commonplace and of small account, do they? INTER: By no means. DIO: Well, is it not useful for them to hear about envy and jealousy, and who those are who are envious and jealous of one another, and for what reasons? INTER: Of course, most useful of all.

§ 77.3 DIO: Then it is useful also to test the patience of the gentlemen without delay. Well now, does Hesiod have any other reason for saying that these men of his are envious and ill-disposed toward one another than because each would make less profit from his occupation, whatever that occupation may be, if there were many of a similar occupation? INTER: Why, what other reason could it be? DIO: Then, if it is profitable for a potter that there should be no other potter in the same city or village, is this not profitable for a butcher, to the end that he may have the opportunity to sell whatever kind of meat he has to those who need it, even if by chance he has bought a very lean or oldish carcass? INTER: Evidently it is profitable for a butcher too.

§ 77.4 DIO: Well then, is it not preferable for a dyer to ply his trade as a dyer all by himself rather than in competition with other craftsmen, so that he may be able to sell his dyes, of whatever quality they may be, to the women? For they will then be satisfied to buy dyes even slightly better than the kind than they are themselves accustomed to use for dyeing on their farms, dyes picked up at random, and they will not demand fast colours and royal purples. INTER: Of course they will not. DIO: Well, how about a brothel-keeper? Is it not more profitable and better with a view to his earnings that he alone should have this reproach and alone be called vile names rather than in company with others, alike whether supporting and training that kind of cattle in the city or taking to the road and dragging his stock about to the congress at Thermopylae and to the other great festive gatherings as well? INTER: Indeed I am quite sure that the brothel-keeper would pray that fellow artists might be very scarce.

§ 77.5 DIO: Then, was it about all, that is, all who are engaged in the same line of business, that he was making an assumption so sweeping, believing that all are detrimental to one another and a hindrance in the gaining of their living? INTER: Yes, he meant all, most likely. DIO: Aye, it was not like him, I suppose, to take them up one by one. For certainly in other matters it is his custom to treat of the whole topic by means of one or two examples. For instance, when he says that a man would not even lose an ox except for the depravity of his neighbour, he surely does not mean that, while a bad neighbor would destroy an ox or condone the crime in others, he would not steal a sheep, provided he could escape detection, or one of the fine goats which yield abundant milk and bear twins; nay, manifestly he speaks to those who read his poems as to intelligent persons.

§ 77.6 Are we, then, putting it concisely, to say that the poet, speaking thus briefly, refers to all who belong to the same craft as not loving one another and not benefiting one another? INTER: Most assuredly. DIO: Well now, in Heaven's name, is seafaring a craft, or would it receive that label in any degree less than the craft of the potter or of the butcher? INTER: Not less, I suppose. DIO: Then in a large ship with many sails and a large cargo and a crowd of passengers would a single sailor be successful, and would it be to his advantage to have no other sailor on board, be his knowledge of nautical affairs either greater or less than his own; and, on the other hand, if there are many of them, will they be detrimental to one another and harmful, and on that account on a ship do the majority of the sailors hate each other?

§ 77.7 INTER: This matter of the sailors is a different story. Yet at any rate a pilot, I fancy, would not enjoy seeing another pilot sailing with him. DIO: When there is a violent storm and the pilot cannot control each of his two rudders because of old age or the violence of the sea, even at such a time does he not like another pilot or pray that the one to relieve him may make his appearance; or, again, when he needs to sleep, having been without sleep for many nights and days opening, even in such circumstances too does he feel the same hatred, and does he consider it his loss if a second pilot is on board? INTER: Perhaps he would not hate him then; how could he? Still, we are not speaking of a sailor's craft or of nautical affairs either.

§ 77.8 DIO: Very well. The physician, at any rate, practises his healing art on land and has a profession not inferior to that of the joiners. INTER: Well, what of that? DIO: Do you really suppose he would like to be the only one acquainted with his art in a city as large as this, particularly if many are ill? INTER: What is to prevent his wishing to be the only one? For though for everybody else the situation may be worse, since they cannot all be treated by a single physician, still his work is prized more highly under these conditions. Nor can one tell the amount and the number of the fees he might take in if he, single-handed in the midst of so many sick, were able to provide treatment. DIO: But I am not speaking to you of a physician who is crazy.

§ 77.9 INTER: What! Do you consider it the mark of insanity in a man to wish to be very highly prized and to amass great wealth? DIO: Yes, if when he himself is a victim of lethargic fever or has an attack of inflammation of the brain he is delighted that he has no one to cure him and give him a potion of mandragora to drink or some other healthful drug, his purpose being, forsooth, to be the only one to get the fees and honours in the city. But if, then, besides himself, his children also and his wife and his friends should be ill, all dangerously ill, would he even then pray that no other physician be found to come to his rescue; and if one does make his appearance, is the physician likely, as Hesiod puts it, to rage and to regard as an enemy his own saviour and the saviour of those dearest to him?

§ 77.10 Again, suppose there should occur some such thing as once befell the Egyptian physicians. You see, they tried to cure Darius the Persian — for in falling from his horse his ankle bone happened to slip out of place — and they were unable by means of their own art to correct the injury, but, instead, they brought upon him insomnia and awful pains by pulling the joint and trying to force it into place. So Darius gave orders to keep these men in prison, intending that they should be tortured to death. But learning that among his captives there was a certain Greek who endeavoured to heal people, summoning him in desperation he ordered him to help him if he could.

§ 77.11 Now the man was Democedes of Croton, who was considered the ablest of the Greek physicians of that day. And he did immediately cause him to fall asleep, and then by means of poultices and fomentations and so forth within a few days he made him sound and well. But when Darius bade him take as reward anything he pleased, he besought him to release the physicians. And, indeed, they were released, because Democedes had requested it. Now I ask you whether in such circumstances they were jealous of Democedes and regarded him as an enemy, as Hesiod says is true with the potters or the joiners, because they believed it to be to their advantage if no other physician turned up and cured the king, or whether they felt a strong affection for Democedes and were grateful to him. INTER: It would be reasonable to suppose they were grateful.

§ 77.12 DIO: Again, there are corselet-makers in the cities and helmet-makers and wall-builders and spear-polishers and many others; whether, therefore, it is to their advantage that only one in each city should be a worker at each craft rather than enough to do the work is a matter I would gladly learn. For it is clear that, if enemies attack at a time when the walls have not been completed and not all the citizens have been equipped with arms, then they would be forced to hazard all without arms and walls.

§ 77.13 Therefore, if the city were taken, though possibly these craftsmen might escape with their lives, still, taken captive and in chains, they would work for the foe without pay and at forced labour, all because previously they had lived pampered lives and sold their corselets and helmets and spears at an excessive price, and they would recognize that it was not right nor for their own good for a craftsman to be jealous or angry because of his craft, whether it was blacksmith against blacksmith or joiner against joiner, and that it was not more profitable or better for him to be the only worker at his craft than to have a few fellow workers.

§ 77.14 Well then, for the others, I dare say, what Hesiod says they desire is not always preferable, but only for the potters and butchers and dyers and brothel-keepers. Then jealousy and envy and the desire that no one else shall ply the same trade, whether it be that of the butcher or the dyer or the potter, are even still more suitable for the brothel-keepers than for physicians and pilots or for those who are engaged in any other more serious pursuit. Very good. But if for pilots and physicians and those just mentioned it is not better to live where there is a shortage of their fellow craftsmen, can it be that for men of prudence and wisdom it is better and more profitable to find themselves without associates? INTER: By no means.

§ 77.15 DIO: Yes, because with the man of intelligence and benevolence, in addition to his being magnanimous and inoffensive, in addition to his knowing that virtue is beneficial to him, both his own virtue and that of his neighbours, and in addition to the unlikelihood that any one, even of the commoner sort, would ever be jealous one toward another regarding these things which are the common blessings of all mankind — in addition, I say to all this, of the other things which are the occasion of envy and reciprocal ill-will among the masses, not only does he not admire a single one, but he does not consider any to deserve serious regard, just as yesterday we were saying with reference to wealth.

§ 77.16 Consequently, neither would he envy any one gold or silver or cattle or house or any other thing such as we were speaking of — as another poet says, not expressing his own private sentiment but expounding the opinion of mankind, The things whereby men live at ease and gain The epithet of affluent, his idea being that they merely are called affluent, but are not truly so.

§ 77.17 Very well; then we are agreed, the high-minded, perfect man is above material wealth; but in the matter of reputation would he perhaps quarrel with and envy those whom he sees more highly honoured by the crowd and winning greater plaudits? or shall we say that he is not unaware that fame is the praise bestowed by the masses; but if the masses, evidently the unintelligent? INTER: By no means is it likely that he is ignorant of that.

§ 77.18 DIO: Well then, do you believe that a good flautist takes pleasure in his skill and is proud when praised by unmusical and unskilled persons, and that, if youthful swineherds and shepherds crowding around him express their admiration and applaud him, he is elated over this thing itself and feels that praise from those persons is worth everything? Why, the Theban flautist made it plain that he did not pay very much attention either to the audience in the theatre or to the judges, inexperienced in flute-playing as they were — and that, too, although he was contending for a prize and victory — but for all that, he did not venture to depart even slightly from the proper rhythm, but he said that he was piping for himself and the Muses. What then!

§ 77.19 Do you suppose that Orpheus, the son of the Muse — if the tale about him is true — would rejoice more when the birds flew down to him as he sang and the wild beasts were entranced by his voice and stood by tamely and quietly every time he began to make melody, and when, moreover, the trees came toward him with their fruit and flowers, and when the stones moved and came together, so that great cairns of stones were collected near him — do you suppose, I say, that at the sight of these doings he was delighted and proud, believing that he had reached the pinnacle of musical success, more than if his mother Calliope had praised his playing the cithara and had stroked his head and said that he was fairly competent in music and very skilful in the fine points of his art?

§ 77.20 I fancy he would rather be praised by Philammon for musical skill or by any one then living who was acquainted with the art of singing to the cithara, than by absolutely all the beasts and birds together; nay, even if the swans had uttered cries of praise and had accompanied him with their notes, he would not have given them a moment's notice, because they did not possess skill, or even knowledge, about the art of making melody. Very good; what then? In the matter of health would the man of sound judgement desire to win the testimony and commendation of a single individual who is a skilled physician and conversant with care of the body, or, instead, that of countless thousands who have no understanding, who, as likely as not, on seeing him bloated with disease and swollen and ulcerous, would congratulate him as they would Polydamas the Thessalian and Glaucus the Carystian, supposing him to be in prime condition?

§ 77.21 Well, if as regards flute-playing and singing to the cithara and pre-eminence as a wrestler or a boxer the praise of experts above all others is sweetest to the ears of connoisseurs and worth the most serious attention, as regards wisdom and justice and virtue as a whole is the praise of fools and nobodies sufficient to cheer the heart of the man of sense and to satisfy his intelligence? INTER: By no means.

§ 77.22 DIO: Again, do you think that he who is acquainted with the joiner's art, when he wants a piece of furniture to be made true and straight, after he has fitted his work together by applying one straight-edge and one gauge is happier and more confident of the accuracy of his work than if he had done the adjusting and the measuring with several different and uneven strips of wood? By Heaven, have you heard about the doings of an accomplished painter who had exhibited in public a painting of a horse, a wonderful work of art and true to life?

§ 77.23 They say, you remember, that he ordered his servant to observe those who looked at it, to see if they found fault with it or praised it, and to remember what they said and report back to him. The story goes on to relate that every man of them had something different to say about the painting and criticized it, one, I imagine, finding fault with the head, another with the haunches, another with the legs, to the effect that, if these parts had been done so and so, the work would be much better. And when the painter heard what his servant had to report, he made another painting, which conformed with the judgement and conception of the crowd, and he gave orders to place it beside the earlier one. Now the difference between the two was great; for the one was quite true to life, while the other was extremely ugly and ludicrous and resembled anything at all rather than a horse.

§ 77.24 Clearly, therefore, if a person is going to be exceedingly anxious to win the praise of the crowd as well, believing that its praise or censure has more weight than his own judgement, his every act and wish will be aimed to show himself the sort of person that the crowd expects. And manifestly he will presently be very like, not that first horse, which was executed with sincerity and in harmony with one man's conception of his art, but like that amazing product of multiple workmanship, not pleasing even to those men themselves, its creators, having been put together by the conception and workmanship of all the world!

§ 77.25 Just so the myth says of Pandora, that she was fashioned, not by a single one among the gods, but jointly by them all, one contributing one gift and adding it to the whole, another another, the form thus fashioned proving to be by no means wise or destined for a good end either, but, as it turned out, a heterogeneous and complicated plague to those who got her. But when a multitude of gods, yes, a democratic rabble, jointly creating and labouring at their task, proved unable by all their labour to turn out an excellent and faultless work, what would one say of that which is fashioned and created by human opinion, be it a way of life or a man? Evidently, then, if one is by nature really prudent, he would pay no heed at all to the talk of the masses, nor would he court their praise by any and every means, and consequently he will never regard this praise as important or valuable or, if I may say so, good. But not regarding it as a good, he will be incapable of viewing with malice on that account those who have it.

§ 77.26 Accordingly, so high-minded, sane, and chastened a man as the one we have in mind is not the sort that chases after riches and praise and Olympic or Pythian crowns, nor after letters carved on tablets of stone and written testimonials of communities and kings, with a view to being universally admired and conspicuous; instead, he journeys through life without ostentation and free from arrogance, so far as possible, humble and chastened by himself and by his own conscience, having no need of any extraneous adornment or adventitious honour, nor of trappings and plumes, like your cowardly hireling soldiers, who affect plumes and crests and Gorgons on their shields, who rattle their little lances and then take to their heels if some trifling danger overtakes them.

§ 77.27 Persons of this description are to be seen in large numbers among the would be great — condottieri of a sort, popular leaders, and sophists, in theatres or before their pupils or among the tents inside a camp, uttering loud boasts on occasions when they chance to be tipsy at mid day, That each will be a match for one, yes, two Full companies of Trojan men; yet these same persons, if a single human being runs at them and offers to give chase, will be seen to flee in utter rout, the pack of them not showing themselves a match for that lone man.

§ 77.28 Nay more; as for certain pleasures of food or drink or fornication, or as for a woman's beauty or the bloom of a boy, he would not, through having become infatuated with these things and lusting after them and counting them important, deem fortunate those who get them — satraps and princes and, forsooth, vulgarians and flunkies who have become wealthy, the former by the practice of their craft, the latter by filching their masters's property — nor would he pity himself for his poverty and for his lack of these good things and look upon himself as not one of the fortunate class; nor would he on this account envy the persons whom I have named, plot against them in every way, and pray for their ruin.

§ 77.29 Or shall we go so far as to acknowledge that our noble, or magnanimous man is in no better ease than dogs and horses and the other beasts, which cannot contain themselves when the other beasts are stuffing their bellies or copulating, but are resentful and indignant and enraged against those which are enjoying themselves, and are ready to pounce upon and bite and butt and to wage all manner of warfare against each other for the enjoyment of these pleasures; shall we say that any of these pleasures is of real importance, and that he regards Sardanapalus as one to be envied, who declared that he spent his life in feasting and in playing the wanton with eunuchs and women, and shall we say that on this account he envies the happiness of goats and asses?

§ 77.30 INTER: Why, it would perhaps be even impious ever to entertain such thoughts concerning the temperate man of cultivation. DIO: Well then, if neither fame nor wealth nor pleasures of eating or drinking or copulation lead him to regard himself or any one else as fortunate or to suppose that any such thing at all is worth fighting over or valuable, he would not wrangle over them or begrudge any one those things any more than he would begrudge those who dwell near the sea either the sand upon the beaches or the roar and reverberation of the waves;

§ 77.31 nay, not even if gold of its own accord were to fall from the sky and fill the fold of his garment, just as they say that once upon a time, when Danae was being closely guarded in a bronze chamber, gold suddenly rained down upon her from above, drawn by her beauty; nay, not even if a torrent were to come from somewhere, sweeping down to him a flood of gold in a mass like mud, as, I believe, it is said that to Croesus in days of old the Pactolus, making its way through the midst of Sardis, brought ready wealth, a larger revenue and tribute than all Phrygia and Lydia, yes, and the Maeonians and Mysians and all who occupy the land this side the Halys River, brought him.

§ 77.32 Nay, not even the man who received from Croesus that famous gift did either Solon or any other of the wise men of that day envy, Alcmaeon, whom they say the Lydian allowed to open his treasuries and carry off on his own person as much of the gold as he wished. And yet, so the story runs, he entered in and set to work right manfully to load himself with the king's bounty, girding about him a long, trailing tunic and filling its womanish, deep fold and the huge, capacious boots which he had put on for that express purpose and finally, after sprinkling the gold dust in his hair and beard and stuffing with it his cheeks and mouth, with difficulty he came walking out, the very image of a piper piping the birth-pangs of Semele, thereby presenting a ludicrous spectacle for Croesus and his Lydians.

§ 77.33 Moreover, at that moment Alcmaeon was not worth a single drachma, standing there in that condition. So, as I was saying, our man of prudence would not be moved to envy, either by these things or if he were to see a man admired and extolled by ten or twenty thousand human beings, or, if you please, applauded and bedecked with ribbons, arching his neck and prancing like a horse exulting in a victory, escorted by more people than the crowds which escort a bride and groom; on the contrary, he might himself be more inglorious than the beggars, more destitute than the wretches who lie prostrate in the streets, held worthy of no consideration at all by anybody — just as they say was true of the Megarians once on a time — because of his inability to court favour or to be agreeable in converse, being austere by nature and a friend of truth, making no secret of his thoughts; still, not even so will he behave like the potters and joiners and bards, nor will he ever be warped through want or dishonour or change his own character, becoming a toady and cheat instead of noble and truthful.

§ 77.34 And yet why on earth do some of the prosperous wish to be courted by persons who claim to be free men, and why do they wish the so called philosophers to be seen at their doors, humble and unhonoured, just as, so help me, Circe wished her dwelling to be guarded by lions that were timid and cringing? Nay, it was not even real lions that guarded her, but wretched, foolish human beings, who had been corrupted by luxury and idleness.

§ 77.35 Therefore, whenever any one beholds one of the so called philosophers fawning about the courtyards and vestibules and grovelling, it is fitting to recall those lions of Circe's, which resembled hungry, cowardly curs, howling most shrilly, since they had been perverted by sorcery. Nay, to such a desire as I have mentioned I know not what name to give. For there are thousands who willingly, yes, very eagerly, cultivate the rich and influential, and all the world is full of flatterers, who ply that calling with both experience and skill.

§ 77.36 Therefore it is not for lack of this line of goods that men seek to obtain it from persons of good breeding; rather this is like another enterprise of the very dissolute, who, although there are women in abundance, through wantonness and lawlessness wish to have females produced for them from males, and so they take boys and emasculate them. And thus a far worse and more unfortunate breed is created, weaker than the female and more effeminate.

§ 77.37 But he who in very truth is manly and high-minded would never submit to any such things, nor would he sacrifice his own liberty and his freedom of speech for the sake of any dishonourable payment of either power or riches, nor would he envy those who change their form and apparel for such rewards; on the contrary, he would think such persons to be comparable to those who change from human beings into snakes or other animals, not envying them, nor yet carping at them because of their wantonness, but rather bewailing and pitying them when they, like the boys, with an eye to gifts have their hair cut off, and grey hair at that!

§ 77.38 But as for himself, the man of whom I speak will strive to preserve his individuality in seemly fashion and with steadfastness, never deserting his post of duty, but always honouring and promoting virtue and sobriety and trying to lead all men thereto, partly by persuading and exhorting, partly by abusing and reproaching, in the hope that he may thereby rescue somebody from folly and from low desires and intemperance and soft living, taking them aside privately one by one and also admonishing them in groups every time he finds the opportunity, With gentle words at time, at others harsh,

§ 77.39 until, methinks, he shall have spent his life in caring for human beings, not cattle or horses or camels and houses, sound in words and sound in deeds, a safe travelling companion for any one to have on land or sea and a good omen for men to behold when offering sacrifice, not arousing strife or greed or contentions and jealousies and base desires for gain, but reminding men of sobriety and righteousness and promoting concord, but as for insatiate greed and shamelessness and moral weakness, expelling them as best he can — in short, a person far more sacred than the bearers of a truce or the heralds who in times of war come bringing an armistice.

§ 77.40 Therefore he wishes, yes, is eager, in so far as he can, to aid all men; though sometimes he is defeated by other men and other practices and has little or no power at all. Finally, he purges his own mind by the aid of reason and tries to render it exempt from slavery, fighting in defence of freedom a much more stubborn battle against lusts and opinions and all mankind, aided by the few who wish to help him, than once the Spartans fought when, having seized the pass, they gave battle to all the hordes from Asia, few though those Spartans were, for three nights and days in succession until, having been enveloped through one man's treachery, they stood their ground and were hacked to pieces.

§ 77.41 Moreover, he trains his body, inuring it to labour with all his might, not allowing it to become enervated by baths and ointments and perfumes until it becomes too soft and as unsound as a bad vessel. But some who see him say that he follows these practices out of foolishness and stupidity, having neglected the opportunity to be rich, to be honoured, and to life a life of continual pleasure, and they scorn him, think him insane, and esteem him lightly.

§ 77.42 Yet he is not enraged at them or vexed; on the contrary, I believe he is kinder to each one than even a father or brothers or friends. And in fact, though he shows respect for his own fellow citizens and friends and kinsmen, still he does not hide his thoughts from them — all the more so because he believes them to be closer to him than all others through home ties and relationship — stressing his words as much as possible and increasing the vehemence of his admonition and exhortation for himself and them alike.

§ 77.43 Take, for example, the physician; if he should find it necessary to treat father or mother or his children when they are ill, or even himself through scarcity or lack of other physicians, in case he should need to employ surgery or cautery, he would not, because he loves his children and respects his father and his mother, for that reason cut with a duller knife or cauterize with milder fire, but, on the contrary, he would use the most potent and vigorous treatment possible.

§ 77.44 For example, they say of Heracles, that when he was unable to heal his body, which had become the victim of a dread malady, he called his sons first of all and ordered them to set fire to him with the most brilliant flame; but when they were reluctant and shrank from the ordeal, he abused them as weaklings and unworthy of him and more like their mother, saying, in the words of the poet, Whither away, ye cravens and disgrace To my engendering, ye likenesses Of her, your mother, whom Aitolia bore?

§ 77.45 Therefore toward oneself first of all, and all toward one's nearest and dearest, one must behave with fullest frankness and independence, showing no reluctance or yielding in one's words. For far worse than a corrupt and diseased body is a soul which is corrupt, not, I swear, because of salves or potions or some consuming poison, but rather because of ignorance and depravity and insolence, yes, and jealousy and grief and unnumbered desires. This disease and ailment is more grievous than that of Heracles and requires a far greater and more flaming cautery; and to this healing and release one must summon without demur father or son, kinsman or outsider, citizen or alien.

§ 79.1 The Seventy-ninth Discourse: On Wealth Come now, in Heaven's name do tell me: on what account above all is it fitting to admire, yes, to feel proud of and to congratulate, a city which is the greatest and most powerful of all? Is it for excellence of laws, for probity of citizens, and for moderation of its rulers; or are these things trifles and worthless and easy to come by for ordinary people, and is it rather for multitude of inhabitants, lavishness of market-place, and sumptuousness of its edifices that one should congratulate it, for its Syrian and Babylonian fabrics, and because its citizens roof their houses with gold and the whole place teems with silver and amber and ivory, like the palaces of Alcinous and Menelaus which Homer has described — overstepping the reality and the possibility too, one may venture to suggest — the city, I mean, having been equipped throughout in that fashion? Would it be, in Heaven's name, for its paintings and its statues, none of which had been of any service to their former owners; on the contrary, those from whom these things were obtained would be found to be slaves, of low estate, and poor?

§ 79.2 For example, if there were any utility in bronze well blended and in mixing-bowls and altars and censers of cunning workmanship, the Corinthians' city would have been prosperous and have long maintained its existence as a state, safeguarding its own settlers and citizens. And again, if there were utility in beautifully coloured and variegated marbles, the same statement could be made about the cities of Teos and Carystus, as well as about certain Egyptian and Phrygian cities in whose vicinity the mountains are of variegated stone — in fact, I hear that among their sarcophagi the very ancient ones are of this same rock — yet, for all that, they are no better or more fortunate than any of the very lowly and pitiful cities.

§ 79.3 Furthermore, if it were advantageous to possess gold, there was nothing to prevent the Ethiopians of the interior from being deemed most fortunate, for in their land gold is less highly prized than lead is with us, and it is said that in that region the criminals have been bound with heavy fetters of gold, yet they are none the less prisoners and depraved and evildoers. But to congratulate the wealthy and men of great riches, when in all other respects they are no better than very ordinary folk, is as if, on seeing the prisoners of Ethiopia emerge from their prison, one were to envy them and judge the most fortunate of all to be the one with the heaviest fetters.

§ 79.4 Again, if ivory is a marvellous possession and worth fighting for, the Indians are of all men most blest and pre-eminent by far, for in their land the bones of the elephants are tossed aside and no one troubles to go near them, just as in our land the bones of cattle and of asses are treated; they even say that in many places the skulls of the elephants, tusks and all, are built into their house walls. But what should we say of the Celts, in whose country, according to report, a certain river carries the amber down with its waters and the amber is found in abundance everywhere by the river banks, cast ashore like the pebbles on the beaches in our country? Indeed, in days gone by their children at play used to toss it about, though now they too collect and treasure it, having learned from us how fortunate they are.

§ 79.5 Are you aware that all these peoples — the Celts, Indians, Iberians, Arabs, and Babylonians — exact tribute from us, not from our land or from our flocks and herds, but from our own folly? For if, when by force of arms any people get the upper hand and compel the vanquished to pay them silver, this is called tribute, and it is a sign that people are not very fortunate or brave if they pay tribute to others, then is it not true that if, though no one has attacked or compelled them, but because of stupidity and self-indulgence, a certain people take that which they prize most highly, silver, and of their own volition send it over a long road and across a vast expanse of sea to those who cannot easily even set foot upon our soil, such conduct is altogether more cowardly and disgraceful?

§ 79.6 Except for one thing, that to offer tiny, fragile pebbles and, forsooth, bones of wild beasts when they take our silver and gold, exchanging useless things for useful! But I am often most astonished when I reflect that the Medes were well content, yes, delighted at having got the Syrian riches, and the Persians in turn at having got that of the Medes, and the Macedonians that of the Persians, and that they thought they had at last become Fortune's darlings and were more prosperous at the moment when they had in their possession what once had belonged to those wretched and unfortunate peoples. But these words I have spoken, not in a spirit of idle folly, but because such goods, on the possession of which they have set their hearts and for which most men admire those who have acquired them, are good for nothing, nay, are not worth a single drachma when lumped together; nor can human beings ever become fortunate if ignorant and empty-headed, not even if they make the park at Susa their dwelling-place, a park which was, we are told, wholly up in the air.