Dio Chrysostom, Speeches

§ 11.129 Does not all this in reality remind one of dreams and wild fiction? In the book “Dreams” by Horus people have such experiences, imagining at one time that they are being killed and their bodies stripped of arms and that they rise to their feet again and fight unarmed, at other times imagining they are chasing somebody or holding converse with the gods or committing suicide without any cause for the act, and at times, possibly, flying offhand or walking on the sea. For this reason one might well call Homer's poetry a kind of dream, obscure and vague at that.

§ 11.130 The following also is worth thinking about along with what has been said above. Everybody is agreed that the stormy season had already set in when the Achaeans sailed from Asia and that for this reason the greater part of their expedition came to grief off Euboea; further, that they did not all take the same course, since a division arose in the army and between the Atreidae, some joining Agamemnon, others Menelaus, while yet others, whom Homer mentions in the Odyssey, departed by themselves. For it is reasonable to suppose that if things were going well, there would have been unanimity and the fullest obedience to the king, and that Menelaus would not have quarrelled with his brother just after receiving the great favour from him; but in defeat and failure all such things are sure to happen.

§ 11.131 Be it noted also that when an army is in fear and flight, it retires with the greatest speed from the enemy's country and takes no chances by remaining, while a victorious army that has added to its own resources a great number of prisoners and great supplies awaits the safest moment for withdrawing, since it both controls the country itself and has a great abundance of everything, but would not, after waiting ten years, have come within a little of being wholly destroyed. The domestic disasters also which befell those who reached their homes are not the least evidence of their discomfiture and weakness.

§ 11.132 It is certainly not the rule for attacks to be made on men who are victorious and successful. Such men are feared and admired. The unsuccessful, however, are held in contempt by outsiders and even by some of their own kinsfolk. It was undoubtedly because of his defeat that Agamemnon was despised by his wife, that Aegisthus attacked and easily overcame him, and that the Argives took the matter into their own hands and made Aegisthus king. They would not have done it had he slain an Agamemnon who had returned with all his glory and power after conquering Asia.

§ 11.133 Diomede too, who won a reputation second to no one in the war, was exiled from his home, and so was Neoptolemus, whether by Hellenes or by certain others. Then soon after they were all driven from the Peloponnese and the family of the Pelopidae came to an end because of this calamity, while the Heraclidae, hitherto a weak and despised family, came in with Dorians.

§ 11.134 Odysseus, however, delayed voluntarily, in part because he was ashamed, and in part because he suspected the situation; and on account of this, the youth of Cephallenia set themselves to court Penelope and seize his property, while of Odysseus' friends not one came to his aid, not even Nestor though so near. For all who had taken part in the expedition were humbled and in poor circumstances; whereas, had they conquered, they would necessarily have inspired fear in all and no one would have attacked them.

§ 11.135 Menelaus did not return to the Peloponnesus at all but remained in Egypt. Among other proofs of his arrival there is the fact that a province was named after him; which would not have been the case had he been a wanderer and stayed for only a short period. But he married the king's daughter and told the priests the story of the expedition, concealing nothing.

§ 11.136 One could almost say that Homer is not only well acquainted with all this account, but also that he is hinting at it when he says that Menelaus was sent by the gods after his death to the Elysian fields, where there is neither snow nor storm but sunshine and balmy air throughout the year, for such is the climate of Egypt. It seems to me that some of the later poets too have an inkling of the facts. One of the tragic poets, for instance, says that Helen immediately upon her return was the object of Orestes' plotting and that on the appearance of her brothers she was not to be found. Now the poet would never have so represented it in his play had it been an established fact that Helen lived in Greece after the war, and as the wife of Menelaus.

§ 11.137 This is the gloomy and weak state into which the fortune of Greece fell after the war, while that of Troy became much brighter and more glorious. On the one hand, Aeneas was sent by Hector with a large fleet and force of men and occupied Italy, the most favoured country in Europe; and, on the other, Helenus penetrated into the interior of Greece and became king of the Molossians and of Epeirus near Thessaly. And yet which was the more probable: that a vanquished people should sail to the land of their conquerors and reign among them, or that, on the contrary, the victors should sail to the land of the conquered?

§ 11.138 Furthermore, if, when Troy fell, Aeneas, Antenor, Helenus, and their people fled, why did they not betake themselves anywhere else rather than to Greece and Europe, or content themselves with occupying some place in Asia, rather than sail straight to the land of those who had driven them out? And how did they all come to rule over regions by no means small or obscure, when they might have seized Greece also? But, one says, they refrained on account of their oaths. Still, Helenus cut off no small part of it, namely, Epirus. Then Antenor acquired dominion over the Heneti and the very best land about the Adriatic, while Aeneas became master of all Italy and founded the greatest city in the world.

§ 11.139 Now it does not stand to reason that men driven into exile and crushed by calamities at home accomplished such things, but rather that they would have been satisfied to be allowed to settle anywhere, especially when one considers with what humble resources whether of men or of money they would have had to come, fleeing through the midst of the enemy, their city lying in ashes and everything lost, when it would have been hard for the young and vigorous to save even their lives, to say nothing of setting forth with wives, children, parents, and property, when, to make matters worse, their city had been taken suddenly and contrary to their expectation, and they would not have departed gradually as men are wont to do when there has been a formal agreement. Nay, what did happen was a thing that could happen.

§ 11.140 The story goes that after the Achaeans sailed away there was a great multitude assembled in the city, and that the allies were not all inclined to depart, and that, further, Hector discovered that Aeneas would not be satisfied if he did not get some share in the royal power, as Priam had promise him, so he claimed, if he saw the war through to the end and expelled the Achaeans; so Hector sent the colonists forth, generously supplying means and despatching with Aeneas as large a force as he wished, with all goodwill.

§ 11.141 He assured Aeneas that he was fully entitled to reign and have an authority no whit inferior to his own, but that it was better for him to get another country; because it was not impossible for Aeneas to become master of all Europe, and in that event he had hopes that their descendants would be rulers of both continents as long as their race endured.

§ 11.142 Accordingly, Aeneas adopted the suggestion of Hector, partly to please him, partly because he hoped to achieve greater things. So thanks to vigour and spirit the colony became an actuality and under the guidance of fortune's favourites was a power at once and in future times. Then Antenor, so they say, on observing Aeneas' preparations, likewise desired to get a kingdom in Europe. So another similar expedition was fitted out. The story adds that Helenus, complaining that he was getting less than Deiphobus, petitioned his father, obtained a fleet and army, and sailed to Greece as though it were waiting for him, and occupied all the territory from which the treaties did not exclude him.

§ 11.143 And so it happened that when Diomedes in exile from Argos heard of Aeneas' expedition, he came to him, since peace and friendship existed between them, and asked for his help, after relating the misfortunes that had befallen Agamemnon and himself. Aeneas welcomed him and his little fleet of ships and gave him a small part of his army, since he had brought all the country under his sway.

§ 11.144 Later those Achaeans who had been driven out by the Dorians, not knowing in their weak condition which way to turn, made their way to Asia and to the descendants of Priam and Hector as to friends and allies, and then, with the friendly consent of these, founded Lesbos, whose inhabitants allowed them to do so through friendship, and other not inconsiderable places. If anyone does not accept this account under the influence of the old view, let him know that he is unable to get free of error and distinguish truth from falsehood.

§ 11.145 The fact that a thing has long been accepted by foolish people is not a weighty consideration nor the fact that the falsehoods were current among those of former times. You see, in regard to many other matters also men differ and hold contrary views. In regard to the Persian War, for instance, some hold that the naval engagement off Salamis took place after the battle of Plataea, others that the affair at Plataea was the last of the events; yet a record was made immediately after the events occurred.

§ 11.146 For most people have no accurate knowledge. They merely accept rumour, even when they are contemporary with the time in question, while the second and third generations are in total ignorance and readily swallow whatever anyone says; as, for example, when people speak of the Sciritae company [D is mistaken here. Thuc. referred to Pitanate] in the Lacedemonian army, which, as Thucydides says, never existed, or when the Athenians give the highest honours to Harmodius and Aristogeiton, under the impression that they had freed the city and slain the tyrant.

§ 11.147 But why speak of human affairs when people maintain and dare to say that Uranus was mutilated by Cronus, and the latter by Zeus? Just as soon as anyone has thought of an absurdity, as often happens, it is absurd to refuse to believe it. But I wish to offer a defence in behalf of Homer by saying that there is nothing wrong in accepting his fictions. First, they are much less serious than the falsehoods told about the gods. Second, there was some advantage in them for the Greeks of those days, since they saved them from being alarmed in case war, as was expected, arose between them and the people of Asia. We can pardon one who, being a Greek, used every means to aid his countrymen.

§ 11.148 This is a very common device. I heard, for instance, a Mede declare that the Persians concede none of the claims made by the Greeks, but maintain that Darius despatched Datis and Artaphernes against Naxos and Eretria, and that after capturing these cities they returned to the king; that, however, while they were lying at anchor off Euboea, a few of their ships were driven on to the Attic coast — not more than twenty — and their crews had some kind of an engagement with the inhabitants of that place;

§ 11.149 that, later on, Xerxes in his expedition against Greece conquered the Lacedemonians at Thermopylae and slew their king Leonidas, then captured and razed the city of the Athenians and sold into slavery all who did not escape; and that after these successes he laid tribute upon the Greeks and withdrew to Asia. Now it is quite clear that this is a false account, but, since it was the natural thing to do, it is quite possible that the king ordered this story to be spread among the inland tribes in order to keep them quiet. So if Homer used this same device we ought to forgive him.

§ 11.150 Perhaps, however, some uninformed person may say, “It is not right for you to disparage the Greeks in this way.” Well, the situation has changed and there is no longer any fear of an Asiatic people ever marching against Greece. For Greece is subject to others and so is Asia. Besides, the truth is worth a great deal. And in addition to all this, had I known that my words would carry conviction, perhaps I should have decided not to speak at all. But nevertheless I maintain that I have freed the Greeks from reproaches greater and more distressing.

§ 11.151 That a man should fail in the capture of a city is nothing unusual, nor is it, either, to have made a campaign against a country which was no concern of theirs and then to have retreated after making peace; and for a man of noble spirit to fall in battle by the hand of a worthy foe, that too is no reproach. Nay, a man who is on the point of death might well meet it as Achilles is represented to have done when he said, “Would that Hector, the most brave Of warriors reared upon the Trojan soil, Had slain me.”

§ 11.152 But for the bravest of the Greeks to be slain by the most contemptible man among the enemy, that indeed is a great reproach; and likewise for one who was reputed to be a man of intelligence and the most temperate of the Greeks to begin by slaughtering the sheep and oxen when he meant to slay the kings and then to despatch himself, all for the sake of a suit of armour, is most shameful.

§ 11.153 Furthermore, when Astyanax, the son of a noble warrior, is so brutally slain by being hurled from the city walls, and indeed by the united decision of army and kings; when the maiden Polyxena is sacrificed at the tomb and such libations are made to the son of a goddess; when Cassandra, a consecrated maiden and priestess of Apollo, is outraged in the sanctuary of Athena while clinging to the goddess' statue, and this is done, not by some obscure or worthless man, but by one of the most prominent leaders;

§ 11.154 when Priam, the king of Asia, in extreme old age is wounded beside the altar of Zeus, from whom he was descended, and is slaughtered upon it, and no obscure man perpetrates this deed either, but the very son of Achilles, in spite of the fact that Achilles, his father, had entertained Priam and spared his life on a former occasion; when Hecuba, the sorrow-stricken mother of so many children, is given to Odysseus to her shame and under the weight of her miseries is changed to a dog — an utterly ridiculous idea; and when the lord of the Greeks takes as his bride that holy virgin of Apollo, whom no one had dared to marry for fear of the god — an act for which he is held to have met a deserved fate — how much better for the Greeks never to have committed these excesses than to have captured Troy!

§ 12.01 The Twelfth or Olympic Discourse: or, On Man's First Conception of God

§ 12.1 Can it be, Sirs, that here before you, just as before many another audience — to use a familiar saying — I have met with the strange and inexplicable experience of the owl? For though she is no whit wiser than the other birds nor more beautiful in appearance, but on the contrary only what we know her to be, yet whenever she utters her mournful and far from pleasing note, they all flock to her — yes, and even when they merely see her, the reason being, as it seems to me, that they look with scorn upon her insignificance and weakness; and yet people in general say that the birds admire the owl.

§ 12.2 Surely, however, the birds ought rather to admire the peacock when they see him, beautiful and many-coloured as he is, and then again truly when he lifts himself up in pride and shows the beauty of his plumage, as he struts before his hen with his tail spread out and arched all about him like a fair-shaped theatre or some picture of the heavens studded with stars — a figure well deserving of admiration for the colouring also, which is nearest to gold blended with dark blue; and then too on the tips of his feathers there are eyes, as it were, or markings like rings both in shape and in their general similitude.

§ 12.3 And, if you want something further, observe the lightness of his plumage, so light indeed that it is not an encumbrance nor hard to carry on account of its length. In the centre of it he offers himself to the spectator's gaze, quite calm and unconcerned, turning himself this way and that as if on parade; and when he wishes really to astound us, he rustles his feathers and makes a sound not unpleasing, as of a light breeze stirring some thick wood. But it is not the peacock with all this fine display that the birds want to see, nor when they hear the song of the nightingale as she rises at early dawn are they at all affected by her -

§ 12.4 nay, not even the swan do they greet on account of its music, not even when in the fullness of years it sings its last song, and through joy, and because it has forgotten the troubles of life, utters its triumphant notes and at the same time without sorrow conducts itself, as it seems, to a sorrowless death — even then, I say, the birds are not so charmed by its strains that they gather on some river's bank or on a broad mead or the clean strand of a mere, or on some tiny green islet in a river.

§ 12.5 And since you likewise, though having so many delightful spectacles to behold, and so many things to hear — able orators, most charming writers of both verse and prose, and finally, like gorgeous peacocks, sophists in great numbers, men who are lifted aloft as on wings by their fame and disciples — since you, I say, despite all these attractions, draw near and wish to listen to me, a man who knows nothing and makes no claim to knowing, am I not right in likening your interest to that which the birds take in the owl, one might almost say not without some divine purpose?

§ 12.6 This purpose is seen in men's belief that this bird is beloved of Athene also, the fairest of the gods and the wisest, and indeed at Athens it was honoured by the art of Pheidias, who did not count the owl unworthy to share a dedication with the goddess, the popular assembly approving; but Pericles and his own self he depicted covertly, so we are told, on the shield of the goddess. However, it does not occur to me to regard all this as good fortune on the part of the owl, unless she really does in fact possess some superior sagacity.

§ 12.7 And this, I imagine, is the reason why Aesop composed the fable in which he represents her as being wise and as advising the birds, when the first oak tree began to grow, not to let it happen, but by all means to destroy the plant; for, she explained, the tree would produce a drug from which none might escape, the bird-lime, and they would be caught by it. Again, when men were sowing flax, she bade them pick up this seed also, since if it grew, no good would come of it.

§ 12.8 And in the third place, when she saw a man armed with a bow, she prophesied, saying: “Yonder man will outstrip you with the help of your own feathers, for though he is on foot himself, he will send feathered shafts after you.” But the other birds mistrusted her words of warning. They considered her foolish, and said she was mad; but afterwards through experience they came to admire her and to consider her in very truth exceedingly wise. And that is the reason why, whenever she shows herself, they draw near to her as to one possessing all knowledge; but as for her, she no longer gives them advice, but merely laments.

§ 12.9 So perhaps there has been delivered unto you some true word and salutary counsel, which Philosophy gave to the Greeks of old, but the men of that time comprehended it not and despised it; whereas those of the present day, recalling it, draw near to me on account of my appearance, thus honouring Philosophy as the birds honour the owl, although it is in reality voiceless and reticent of speech. For I am quite well aware that I have not hitherto said anything worthy of consideration, and that now I have no knowledge superior to your own.

§ 12.10 But there are other men who are wise and altogether blessed; and if you wish, I shall make them known to you, mentioning each one by name. For indeed this alone I consider to be profitable — to know the men who are wise and able and omniscient. To such if you are willing to cleave, neglecting all other things — both parents and the land of your birth, the shrines of the gods, and the tombs of your forefathers — following wherever they lead, or remaining wherever they establish themselves — whether in the Babylon of Ninus and Semiramis, or in Bactra, or Sousa, or Palibothra, or in some other famous and wealthy city — giving them money or in some other way winning their favour, you will become happier than happiness itself.

§ 12.11 But if you not willing to do this yourselves, mistrusting your own natural ability, or pleading poverty or age or lack of physical strength, you will at least not begrudge your sons this boon nor deprive them of the greatest blessings, but will entrust them to these teachers if they are willing to receive them; and if they are unwilling, you will persuade them or compel them by any and all means, to the end that your sons, having been properly educated and having grown wise, may thenceforth be renowned among all Greeks and barbarians, being pre-eminent in virtue and reputation and wealth and in almost every kind of power. For not only do virtue and renown attend upon wealth, as we are told, but wealth likewise and of necessity accompanies virtue.

§ 12.12 This is the prophecy and counsel that I give you in the presence of yonder god, moved by a spirit of goodwill and friendship toward you. And I suppose that it would be my duty to urge and exhort myself first of all, if only the state of my health and my advanced age permitted, but the fact is that, on account of the infirmities which afflict me, I am under the necessity, if perchance I shall find it in any way possible, of discovering some bit of wisdom which has already been from the ancients cast aside as it were, and had grown stale for lack of teachers who are both better and still living. And I shall tell you of another respect too in which I am like the owl, even if you are ready to laugh at my words.

§ 12.13 For just as that bird makes no use herself of the others that fly to her side, but to the fowler is the most useful of all possessions — since he has no need to throw out feed or mimic a call, but merely to show the owl and then have a great multitude of birds — so I too have nothing to gain by the interest of the many. For I do not take disciples, since I know there is nothing I should be able to teach them, seeing that I know nothing myself; but to lie and deceive by my promises, I have not the courage for that. But if I associated myself with a professional sophist, I should help him greatly by gathering a great crowd to him and then allowing him to dispose of the catch as he wished. However, for some reason or other, not one of the sophists is willing to take me on, nor can they bear the sight of me.

§ 12.14 Now I am almost sure that you believe me when I speak of my own inexperience and lack of knowledge and sagacity — and it seems to me that you not only believe me on this point, but would have believed Socrates also, when he continually and to all men advanced on his own behalf the same defence — that he knew nothing; but that Hippias and Polus and Gorgias, each of whom was more struck with admiration of himself than of anyone else, you would have considered wise and blessed.

§ 12.15 But notwithstanding, I declare to that, great as is your number, you have been eager to hear a man who is neither handsome in appearance nor strong, and in age is already past his prime, one who has no disciple, who professes, I may almost say, no art or special knowledge either of the nobler or of the meaner sort, no ability either as a prophet or a sophist, nay, not even as an orator or a flatterer, one who is not even a clever writer, who does not even have a craft deserving of praise or of interest, but who simply — wears his hair long! But if you think it a better and wiser course,

§ 12.16 I must do this and try to the best of my ability. However, you will not hear words such as you would hear from any other man of the present day, but words much less pretentious and wearisome, in fact just such as you now observe. And in brief, you must allow me to pursue any thought that occurs to me and not become annoyed if you find me wandering in my remarks exactly as in the past I have lived a life of roving, but you must grant me your indulgence, bearing in mind that you are listening to a man who is a layman and who is fond of talking. For in fact, as it happens, I have just finished a long, long journey, all the way from the Ister and the land of the Getae, or Mysians as Homer, using the modern designation of the race, calls them.

§ 12.17 And I went there, not as a merchant with his wares, nor yet as one of the supply-train of the army in the capacity of baggage-carrier or cattle -driver, nor was I discharging a mission as ambassador to our allies or on some embassy bearing congratulations, the members of which join in prayers with the lips only. I went Unarmed, with neither helm nor shield nor lance,

§ 12.18 nor indeed with any other weapon either, so that I marvelled that they brooked the sight of me. For I, who could not ride a horse and was not a skilled bowman or man-at arms, nor yet a javelin-thrower, or slinger, belonging to the light-armed troops who carry no heavy armour, nor, again, was able to cut timber or dig a trench, nor to mow fodder from an enemy's meadow'with many a glance behind,' nor yet to raise a tent or a rampart, just as certain non-combatants do who follow the legions as helpers,

§ 12.19 I, who was useless for all such things, came among men who were not dullards, and yet had no leisure to listen to speeches, but were high-strung and tense like race-horses at the starting barriers, fretting at the delay and in their excitement and eagerness pawing the ground with their hoofs. There one could see everywhere swords, everywhere corselets, everywhere spears, and the whole place was crowded with horses, with arms, and with armed men. Quite alone I appeared in the midst of this mighty host, perfectly undisturbed and a most peaceful observer of war,

§ 12.20 weak in body and advanced in years, not bearing'a golden sceptre' or the sacred fillets of any god and arriving at the camp on an enforced journey to gain a daughter's release, but desiring to see strong men contending for empire and power, and their opponents for freedom and native land. Then, not because I shrank from the danger — let no one think this — but because I recalled to mind an old vow, I turned my course hither to you, ever considering that things divine have the greater claim and are more profitable than things human, however important these may be.

§ 12.21 Now is it more agreeable and more opportune for you that I should describe what I saw there — the immense size of the river and the character of the country, what climate the inhabitants enjoy and their racial stock, and further, I suppose, the population and their military strength? Or should you prefer that I take up the older and greater tale of this god at whose temple we are now?

§ 12.22 For he is indeed alike of men and gods the king and ruler and lord and father, and in addition, the dispenser of peace and of war, as the experienced and wise poets of the past believed — to see if perchance we can commemorate both his nature and his power in a brief speech, which will fall short of what it should be even if we confine ourselves to these two themes alone.

§ 12.23 Should I, then, begin in the manner of Hesiod, a man good and beloved of the Muses, imitating the way in which he, quite shrewdly, does not venture to begin in his own person and express his own thoughts, but invites the Muses to tell about their own father? For this hymn to the goddesses is altogether more fitting than to enumerate those who went against Ilium, both themselves and the benches of their ships seriatim, although the majority of the men were quite unknown. And what poet is wiser and better than he who invokes aid for this work in the following manner? -

§ 12.24 O ye Pierian Muses, who glorify man by your lays, Draw nigh me, and sing for me Zeus your father, and chant his praise. It is he through whom mortal men are renowned or unrenowned; At the pleasure of Zeus most high by fame are they crowned or discrowned; For lightly he strengtheneth this one, and strength unto that one denies; Lightly abases the haughty, the lowly he magnifies; Lightly the crooked he straightens, and withers the pride of the proud, Even Zeus who thunders on high, who dwelleth in mansions of cloud.

§ 12.25 Answer, therefore and tell me whether the address I offer and the hymn would prove more suitable to this assemblage, you sons of Elis — for you are the rulers and the directors of this national festal gathering, both supervisors and guardians of what is said and done here — or perhaps those who have gathered here should be spectators merely, not only of the sights to be seen, admittedly altogether beautiful and exceedingly renowned, but, very specially, of the worship of the god and of his truly blessed image, which your ancestors by lavish expenditure and by securing the service of the highest art made and set up as a dedication — of all the statues which are upon the earth the most beautiful and the most dear to the gods, Pheidias having, as we are told, taken his pattern from Homer's poesy, where the god by a slight inclination of his brows shook all Olympus,

§ 12.26 as the great poet most vividly and convincingly has expressed it in the following verses: He said, and nodded with his shadowy brows; Waved on th' immortal head th' ambrosial locks, And all Olympus trembled at his nod. Or, should we somewhat more carefully consider these two topics themselves, I mean the expressions of our poets and the dedications here, and try to ascertain whether there is some sort of influence which in some way actually moulds and gives expression to man's conception of the deity, exactly as if we were in a philosopher's lecture-room at this moment?

§ 12.27 Now concerning the nature of the gods in general, and especially that of the ruler of the universe, first and foremost an idea regarding him and a conception of him common to the whole human race, to the Greeks and to the barbarians alike, a conception that is inevitable and innate in every creature endowed with reason, arising in the course of nature without the aid of human teacher and free from the deceit of any expounding priest, has made its way, and it rendered manifest God's kinship with man and furnished many evidences of the truth, which did not suffer the earliest and most ancient men to doze and grow indifferent to them;

§ 12.28 for inasmuch as these earlier men were not living dispersed far away from the divine being or beyond his borders apart by themselves, but had grown up in his company and had remained close to him in every way, they could not for any length of time continue to be unintelligent beings, especially since they had received from him intelligence and the capacity for reason, illumined as they were on every side by the divine and magnificent glories of heaven and the stars of sun and moon, by night and day encountering varied and dissimilar experiences, seeing wondrous sights and hearing manifold voices of winds and forest and rivers and sea, of animals tame and wild; while they themselves uttered a most pleasing and clear sound, and taking delight in the proud and intelligent quality of the human voice, attached symbols to the objects that reached their senses, so as to be able to name and designate everything perceived,

§ 12.29 thus easily acquiring memories and concepts of innumerable things. How, then, could they have remained ignorant and conceived no inkling of him who had sowed and planted and was now preserving and nourishing them, when on every side they were filled with the divine nature through both sight and hearing, and in fact through every sense? They dwelt upon the earth, they beheld the light of heaven, they had nourishment in abundance, for god, their ancestor, had lavishly provided and prepared it to their hand.

§ 12.30 As a first nourishment the first men, being the very children of the soil, had the earthy food — the moist loam at that time being soft and rich — which they licked up from the earth, their mother as it were, even as plants now draw the moisture therefrom. Then the later generation, who were now advancing, had a second nourishment consisting of wild fruits and tender herbs along with sweet dew and fresh nymph-haunted rills. Furthermore, being in contact with the circumambient air and nourished by the unceasing inflow of their breath, they sucked in moist air as infants suck in their food, this milk never failing them because the teat was ever at their lips.

§ 12.31 Indeed, we should almost be justified in calling this the first nourishment for both the earlier and the succeeding generations without distinction. For when the babe, still sluggish and feeble, is cast forth from the womb, the earth, its real mother, receives it, and the air, after breathing into it and quickening it, at once awakens it by a nourishment more liquid than milk and enables it to emit a cry. This might reasonably be called the first teat that nature offered to human beings at the moment of birth.

§ 12.32 So experiencing all these things and afterwards taking note of them, men could not help admiring and loving the divinity, also because they observed the seasons and saw that it is for our preservation that they come with perfect regularity and avoidance of excess in either direction, and yet further, because they enjoyed this god-given superiority over the other animals of being able to reason and reflect about the gods.

§ 12.33 So it is very much the same as if anyone were to place a man, a Greek or a barbarian, in some mystic shrine of extraordinary beauty and size to be initiated, where he would see many mystic sights and hear many mystic voices, where light and darkness would appear to him alternately, and a thousand other things would occur; and further, if it should be just as in the rite called enthronement, where the inducting priests are wont to seat the novices and then dance round and round them — pray, is it likely that the man in this situation would be no whit moved in his mind and would not suspect that all which was taking place was the result of a more than wise intention and preparation, even if he belonged to the most remote and nameless barbarians and had no guide and interpreter at his side — provided, of course, that he had the mind of a human being?

§ 12.34 Or rather, is this not impossible? impossible too that the whole human race, which is receiving the complete and truly perfect initiation, not in a little building erected by the Athenians for the reception of a small company, but in this universe, a varied and cunningly wrought creation, in which countless marvels appear at every moment, and where, furthermore, the rites are being performed, not by human beings who are of no higher order than the initiates themselves, but by immortal gods who are initiating mortal men, and night and day both in sunlight and under the stars are — if we may dare to use the term — literally dancing around them forever — is it possible to suppose, I repeat, that of all these things his senses told him nothing, or that he gained no faintest inkling of them, and especially when the leader of the choir was in charge of the whole spectacle and directing the entire heaven and universe, even as a skilful pilot commands a ship that has been perfectly furnished and lacks nothing?

§ 12.35 That human beings should be so affected would occasion no surprise, but much rather that, as we see, this influence reaches even the senseless and irrational brutes, so that even they recognize and honour the god and desire to live according to his ordinance; and it is still stranger that the plants, which have no conception of anything, but, being soulless and voiceless, are controlled by a simple kind of nature — it is passing strange, I say, that even these voluntarily and willingly yield each its own proper fruit; so very clear and evident is the will and power of yonder god.

§ 12.36 Nay, I wonder if we shall be thought exceedingly absurd and hopelessly behind the times in view of this reasoning, if we maintain that this unexpected knowledge is indeed more natural for the beasts and the trees than dullness and ignorance are for us? Why, certain men have shown themselves wiser than all wisdom; yes, they have poured into their ears, not wax, as I believe they say that the sailors from Ithaca did that they might not hear the song of the Sirens, but a substance like lead, soft at once and impenetrable by the human voice, and they also methinks have hung before their eyes a curtain of deep darkness and mist like that which, according to Homer, kept the god from being recognized when he was caught; these men, then, despise all things divine, and having set up the image of one female divinity, depraved and monstrous, representing a kind of wantonness or self-indulgent ease and unrestrained lewdness, to which they gave the name of Pleasure — an effeminate god in very truth — her they prefer in honour and worship with softly tinkling cymbal-like instruments, or with pipes played under cover of darkness -

§ 12.37 a form of entertainment which nobody would grudge such men if their cleverness went only as far as singing, and they did not attempt to take our gods from us and send them into banishment, driving them out of their own state and kingdom, clean out of this ordered universe to alien regions, even as unfortunate human beings are banished to sundry uninhabited isles; and all this universe above us they assert is without purpose or intelligence or master, has no ruler, or even steward or overseer, but wanders at random and is swept aimlessly along, no master being there to take thought for it now, and no creator having made it in the first place, or even doing as boys do with their hoops, which they set in motion of their own accord, and then let them roll along of themselves.

§ 12.38 Now to explain this digression — my argument is responsible, having turned aside of itself; for perhaps it is not easy to check the course of a philosopher's thoughts and speech, no matter what direction they may take; for whatever suggests itself to his mind always seems profitable, nay indispensable, for his audience, and my speech has not been prepared to “suit the water-clock and the constraint of court procedure,” to use somebody's expression, but allows itself a great deal of license. Well, it is not difficult to run back again, just as on a voyage it is not difficult for competent steersmen who have got a little off their course to get back upon it.

§ 12.39 To resume, then: Of man's belief in the deity and his assumption that there is a god we were maintaining that the fountain-head, as we may say, or source, was that idea which is innate in all mankind and comes into being as the result of the actual facts and the truth, an idea that was not framed confusedly nor yet at random, but has been exceedingly potent and persistent since the beginning of time, and has arisen among all nations and still remains, being, one may almost say, a common and general endowment of rational beings. As the second source we designate the idea which has been acquired and indeed implanted in men's souls through no other means than narrative accounts, myths, and customs, in some cases ascribed to no author and also unwritten, but in others written and having as their authors men of very great fame.

§ 12.40 Of this acquired notion of the divine being let us say that one part is voluntary and due to exhortation, another part compulsory and prescriptive. By the kind that depends upon voluntary acceptance and exhortation I mean that which is handed down by the poets, and by the kind that depends upon compulsion and prescription I mean that due to the lawgivers. I call these secondary because neither of them could possibly have gained strength unless that primary notion had been present to begin with; and because it was present, there took root in mankind, of their own volition and because they already possessed a sort of foreknowledge, the prescriptions of the lawgivers and the exhortations of the poets, some of them expounding things correctly and in consonance with the truth and their hearers' notions, and others going astray in certain matters.

§ 12.41 But which of the two influences mentioned should be called the earlier in time, among us Greeks at any rate, namely, poetry or legislation, I am afraid I cannot discuss at length on the present occasion; but perhaps it is fitting that the kind which depended, not upon penalties, but upon persuasion should be more ancient than the kind which employed compulsion and prescription.

§ 12.42 Now up to this point, we may almost say, the feelings of the human race towards their first and immortal parent, whom we who have a share in the heritage of Hellas call Patroos (Ancestral) Zeus, develop step by step along with those which men have toward their mortal and human parents. For in truth the goodwill and desire to serve which the offspring feel toward their parents is, in the first type, present in them, untaught, as a gift of nature and as a result of acts of kindness received,

§ 12.43 since that which has been begotten straightway from birth loves and cherishes in return, so far as it may, that which begat and nourishes and loves it, whereas the second and third types, which are derived from our poet and lawgivers, the former exhorting us not to withhold our gratitude from that which is older and of the same blood, besides being the author of life and being, the latter using compulsion and the threat of punishment for those who refuse obedience, without, however, making anything clear and showing plainly just who parents are and what the acts of kindness are for which they enjoin upon us not to leave unpaid a debt which is due. But to an even greater extent do we see this to be true in both particulars in their stories and myths about the gods. Now I am well aware that to most men strict exactness in any exposition is on every occasion irksome, and that exactness in a speech is no less so for those whose sole interest is in quantity alone; these without any preface whatever or any statements defining their subject-matter, nay, without even beginning their speeches with any beginning, but straight off'with unwashen feet,' as the saying is, proceed to expound things most obvious and naked to the sight. Now as for'unwashen feet,' though they do no great harm when men must pass through mud and piles of refuse, yet an ignorant tongue causes no little injury to an audience. However, we may reasonably expect that the educated men of the audience, of whom one ought to take some account, will keep up with us and go through the task with us until we merge from bypath and rough ground, as it were, and get our argument back upon the straight road.

§ 12.44 Now that we have set before us three sources of man's conception of the divine being, to wit, the innate, that derived from the poets, and that derived from the lawgivers, let us name as the fourth that derived from the plastic art and the work of skilled craftsmen who make statues and likenesses of the gods — I mean painters and sculptors and masons who work in stone, in a word, everyone who has held himself worthy to come forward as a portrayer of the divine nature through the use of art, whether (1) by means of a rough sketch, very indistinct or deceptive to the eye, or (2) by the blending of colours and by line-drawing, which produces a result which we can almost say is the most accurate of all, or (3) by the carving of stone, or (4) by the craft which makes images of wood, in which the artist little by little removes the excess of material until nothing remains but the shape which the observer sees, or (5) by the casting of bronze and the like precious metals, which are heated and then either beaten out or poured into moulds, or (6) by the moulding of wax, which most readily answers the artist's touch and affords the greatest opportunity for change of intention.

§ 12.45 To this class belong not only Pheidias but also Alcamenes and Polycleitus and further, Aglaophon and Polygnotus and Zeuxis and, earlier than all these, Daedalus. For these men were not satisfied to display their cleverness and skill on commonplace subjects, but by exhibiting all sorts of likenesses and representations of gods they secured for their patrons both private persons and the states, whose people they filled with an ample and varied conception of the divine; and here they did not differ altogether from the poets and lawgivers, in the one case that they might not be considered violators of the laws and thus make themselves liable to the penalties imposed upon such, and in the other case because they saw that they had been anticipated by the poets and that the poets' image-making was the earlier.

§ 12.46 Consequently they preferred not to appear to the many as untrustworthy and to be disliked for making innovations. In most matters, accordingly, they adhered to the myths and maintained agreement with them in their representations, but in some few cases they contributed their own ideas, becoming in a sense the rivals as well as fellow-craftsmen of the poets, since the latter appealed to the ear alone, whereas it was simply through the eye that they, for their part, interpreted the divine attributes to their more numerous and less cultivated spectators. And all these influences won strength from that primary impulse, as having originated with the honouring of the divine being and winning his favour.

§ 12.47 And furthermore, quite apart from that simple and earliest notion of the gods which develops in the hearts of all men along with their reasoning power, in addition to those three interpreters and teachers, the poets, the lawgivers, and creative artists, we must take on a fourth one, who is by no means indifferent nor believes himself unacquainted with the gods, I mean the philosopher, the one who by means of reason interprets and proclaims the divine nature, most truly, perhaps, and most perfectly.

§ 12.48 As to the lawgiver, let us omit for the present to hale him here for an accounting; a stern man is he and himself accustomed to hold all others to an accounting. Indeed, we ought to have consideration for ourselves and for our own preoccupation. But as for the rest, let us select the foremost man of each class, and consider whether they will be found to have done by their acts or words any good or harm to piety, and how they stand as to agreement with each other or divergence from one another, and which one of them adheres to the truth most closely, being in harmony with that primary and guileless view. Now in fact all these men speak with one voice, just as if they had taken the one track and were keeping to it, some clearly and others less plainly. Would the true philosopher, perhaps, not stand in need of consolation if he should be brought into comparison with the makers of statues or of poetic measures, and that too, before the throng of a national festive-gathering where the judges are predisposed in their favour?

§ 12.49 Suppose, for instance, that someone were to take Pheidias first and question him before the tribunal of the Hellenes, Pheidias, that wise and divinely-inspired creator of this awe-inspiring masterpiece of surpassing beauty, and should appoint as judges the men who are directing this contest in honour of the god, or better, a general court of all Peloponnesians and of the Boeotians, too, and Ionians and of the other Hellenes, wherever they are to be found in Asia as well as in Europe, and then suppose they should demand an accounting, not of the monies or of the sum spent on the statue — the number of talents paid for gold and ivory, and for cypress and citron-wood, which are durable and indestructible timber for the interior work, or of the expenditure for the maintenance and wages of the workmen, who were not few in number and worked for so long a time, the wages not only of the men in general, who were no mean artisans, but of Pheidias also, to whom went the greatest and fullest reward on account of his artistic skill — of these items, I say, it was fitting that the Eleans, who poured out their money so lavishly and magnificently, should have called for a reckoning;

§ 12.50 but as for us, we shall maintain that it is for something else that Pheidias must submit to trial. Suppose, then, that someone should actually say to him: “O best and noblest of artists, how charming and pleasing a spectacle you have wrought, and a vision of infinite delight for the benefit of all men, both Greeks and barbarians, who have ever come here, as they have come in great throngs and time after time, no one will gainsay.

§ 12.51 For verily even the irrational brute creation would be so struck with awe if they could catch merely a glimpse of yonder statue, not only the bulls which are being continually led to the altar, so that they would willingly submit themselves to the priests who perform the rites of sacrifice, if so they would be giving some pleasure to the god, but eagles too, and horses and lions, so that they would subdue their untamed and savage spirits and preserve perfect quiet, delighted by the vision; and of men, whoever is sore distressed in soul, having in the course of his life drained the cup of many misfortunes and griefs, nor ever winning sweet sleep — even this man, methinks, if he stood before this image, would forget all the terrors and hardships that fall to our human lot.

§ 12.52 Such a wondrous vision did you devise and fashion, one in very truth a Charmer of grief and anger, that from men All the remembrance of their ills could loose! So great the radiance and so great the charm with which your art has clothed it. Indeed it is not reasonable to suppose that even Hephaestus himself would criticize this work if he judged it by the pleasure and delight which it affords the eye of man.” “But, on the other hand, was the shape you by your artistry produced appropriate to a god and was its form worthy of the divine nature, when you not only used a material which gives delight but also presented a human form of extraordinary beauty and size; and apart from its being a man's shape, made also all the other attributes as you have made them? that is the question which I invite you to consider now. And if you make a satisfactory defence on these matters before those present and convince them that you have discovered the proper and fitting shape and form for the foremost and greatest god, then you shall receive in addition a second reward, greater and more perfect than the one given by the Eleans.

§ 12.53 For you see that the issue is no small one, nor the danger, for us. Since in times past, because we had no clear knowledge, we formed each his different idea, and each person, according to his capacity and nature, conceived a likeness for every divine manifestation and fashioned such likenesses in his dreams; and if we do perchance collect any small and insignificant likenesses made by the earlier artists, we do not trust them very much nor pay them very much attention. But you by the power of your art first conquered and united Hellas and then all others by means of this wondrous presentment, showing forth so marvellous and dazzling a conception, that none of those who have beheld it could any longer easily form a different one.

§ 12.54 Pray, do you imagine that it was owing to lack of money that Iphitus and Lycurgus and the Eleans of that period, while instituting the contest and the sacrifice in such wise as to be worthy of Zeus, yet failed to search for and find a statue to bear the name and show the aspect of the god, although they were, one might almost say, superior in power to their descendants? Or was it rather because they feared that they would never be able adequately to portray by human art the Supreme and most Perfect Being?”

§ 12.55 Perhaps in answer to this Pheidias would say, since he was not tongue-tied nor belonged to a tongue-tied city, and besides was the close friend and comrade of Pericles: “My Greek fellow-citizens, the issue is the greatest that has ever arisen. For it is not about empire or the presidency of one single state or the size of the navy or as to whether an army of infantry has or has not been correctly administered, that I am now being called to account, but concerning that god who governs the universe and my representation of him: whether it has been made with due respect to the dignity of the god and so as to be a true likeness of him, in no way falling short of the best portrayal of the divinity that is within the capacity of human beings to make, or is unworthy of him and unbefitting.

§ 12.56 ”Remember, too, that it is not I who was your first expounder and teacher of the truth, for I was not even born as yet when Hellas began to be and while it still had no ideas that were firmly established about these matters, but when it was rather old, so to speak, and already had strong beliefs and convictions about the gods. And all the works of sculptors or painters earlier than my art which I found to be in harmony therewith, except so far as the perfection of the workmanship is concerned, I omit to mention;

§ 12.57 your views, however, I found to be ingrained, not to be changed, so that it was not possible to oppose them, and I found other artistic portrayers of the divinity who were older than I and considered themselves much wiser, namely the poets, for they were able through their poetry to lead men to accept any sort of idea, whereas our artistic productions have only this one adequate standard of comparison.

§ 12.58 For those divine manifestations — I mean the sun and the moon and the entire heavens and the stars — while in and of themselves they certainly appear marvellous, yet the artist's portrayal of them is simple and has no need of artistic skill, if one should wish merely to depict the moon's crescent or the sun's full orb; and furthermore, whereas those heavenly bodies certainly, taken by themselves, reveal in abundance character and purpose, yet in their representations they show nothing to suggest this: which perhaps is the reason why at first they were not yet regarded by the Greeks as deities.

§ 12.59 For mind and intelligence in and of themselves no statuary or painter will ever be able to represent; for all men are utterly incapable of observing such attributes with their eyes or of learning of them by inquiry. But as for that in which this intelligence manifests itself, men, having no mere inkling thereof but actual knowledge, fly to it for refuge, attributing to God a human body as a vessel to contain intelligence and rationality, in their lack of a better illustration, and in their perplexity seeking to indicate that which is invisible and unportrayable by means of something portrayable and visible, using the function of a symbol and doing so better than certain barbarians, who are said to represent the divine by animals — using as his starting-point symbols which are trivial and absurd. But that man who has stood out most above others in respect of beauty and majesty and splendour, he, we may say, has been by far the greatest creator of the images of the divine beings.

§ 12.60 For certainly no one would maintain that it had been better that no statue or picture of gods should have been exhibited among men, on the ground that we should look only at the heavens. For although the intelligent man does indeed reverence all those objects, believing them to be blessed gods that he sees from a great distance, yet on account of our belief in the divine all men have a strong yearning to honour and worship the deity from close at hand, approaching and laying hold of him with persuasion by offering sacrifice and crowning him with garlands.

§ 12.61 For precisely as infant children when torn away from father or mother are filled with terrible longing and desire, and stretch out their hands to their absent parents often in their dreams, so also do men to the gods, rightly loving them for their beneficence and kinship, and being eager in every possible way to be with them and to hold converse with them. Consequently many of the barbarians, because they lack artistic means and find difficulty in employing them, name mountains gods, and unhewn trees, too, and unshapen stones, things which are by no means whatever more appropriate in shape than is the human form.

§ 12.62 “But if you find fault with me for the human figure, you should make haste to be angry with Homer first; for he not only represented a form most nearly like this statue of mine by mentioning the flowing locks of the god and the chin too at the very beginning of the poem, when he says that Thetis made supplication for the bestowal of honour upon her son; but in addition to these things he ascribes to the gods meetings and counsellings and harangues, then also journeyings from Ida to the heavens and Olympus, and sleep-scenes and drinking-bouts and love-embraces, clothing everything in very lofty poetical language and yet keeping close to mortal likeness. And the most striking instance of this is when he ventured to liken Agamemnon to the god in respect to the most distinctive features by saying, His eye and lofty brow the counterpart Of Zeus, the Lord of thunder.

§ 12.63 But as to the product of my workmanship nobody, not even an insane person, would liken it to any mortal man soever, if it be carefully examined from the point of view of a god's beauty or stature; since, if I shall not be found to be a better and more temperate artificer than Homer, whom you thought godlike in his skill, I am willing to pay any fines you wish! But I am speaking with an eye to what is possible in my art.

§ 12.64 For an extravagant thing is poetry and in every respect resourceful and a law unto itself, and by the assistance of the tongue and a multitude of words is able all by itself to express all the devisings of the heart, and whatever conception it may arrive at concerning any shape or action or emotion or magnitude, it can never be at a loss, since the voice of a Messenger can disclose with perfect clearness each and all these things. For, as Homer himself says, For glib runs the tongue, and can at will Give utterance to discourse in ev'ry vein; Wide is the range of language; and such words As one may speak, another may return.

§ 12.65 Indeed, the race of man is more likely to run short of everything else than of voice and speech; of this one thing it possesses a most astounding wealth. At any rate it has left unuttered and undesignated no single thing that reaches our sense perceptions, but straightway puts upon everything the mind perceives the unmistakable seal of a name, and often even several vocal signs for one thing, so that when man gives utterance to any one of them, they convey an impression not much less distinct than does the actual thing itself. Very great indeed is the ability and power of man to express in words any idea that comes into his mind.

§ 12.66 But the poets' art is exceedingly bold and not to be censured therefor; this was especially true of Homer, who practiced the greatest frankness and freedom of language; and he did not choose just one variety of diction, but mingled together every Hellenic dialect which before his time were separate — that of the Dorians and Ionians, and also that of the Athenians — mixing them together much more thoroughly than dyers do their colours — and not only the languages of his own day but also those of former generations; if perchance there survived any expression of theirs taking up this ancient coinage, as it were, out of some ownerless treasure-store,

§ 12.67 because of his love of language; and he also used many barbarian words as well, sparing none that he believed to have in it anything of charm or of vividness. Furthermore, he drew not only from things which lie next door or near at hand, but also from those quite remote, in order that he might charm the hearer by bewitching and amazing him; and even these metaphors he did not leave as he first used them, but sometimes expanded and sometimes condensed them, or changing them in some other way.

§ 12.68 ”And, last of all, he showed himself not only a maker of verses but also of words, giving utterance to those of his own invention, in some cases by simply giving his own names to the things and in others adding his new ones to those current, putting, as it were, a bright and more expressive seal upon a seal. He avoided no sound, but in short imitated the voices of rivers and forests, of winds and fire and sea, and also of bronze and of stone, and, in short, of all animals and instruments without exception, whether of wild beasts or of birds or of pipes and reeds. He invented the terms'clang' (kanache),'boom' (bombos),'crash' (ktupos),'thud' (doupos),'rattle' (arabos), and spoke of'roaring rivers,''whizzing missiles,''thundering waves,''raging winds,' and other such terrifying and truly astonishing phenomena, thus filling the mind with great confusion and uproar.

§ 12.69 Consequently he had no lack of fear-inspiring names for things and of pleasant ones, and also of smooth and rough ones, as well as of those which have countless other differences in both their sounds and their meanings. As a result of this epic art of his he was able to implant in the soul any emotion he wished. “But our art, on the other hand, that which is dependent on the workman's hand and the artist's creative touch, by no means attains to such freedom; but first we need a material substance, a material so tough that it will last, yet can be worked without much difficulty and consequently not easy to procure; we need, too, no small number of assistants.

§ 12.70 And then, in addition, the sculptor must have worked out for himself a design that shows each subject in one single posture, and that too a posture that admits of no movement and is unalterable, so perfected that it will comprise within itself the whole of the god's nature and power. But for the poets it is perfectly easy to include very many shapes and all sorts of attitudes in their poetry, adding movements and periods of rest to them according to what they consider fitting at any given time, and actions and spoken words, and they have, I imagine, an additional advantage in the matter of difficulty and that of time. For the poet when moved by one single conception and one single impulse of his soul draws forth an immense volume of verses, as if from a gushing spring of water, before the vision and the conception he had grasped can leave him and flow away. But of our art the execution is laborious and slow, advancing with difficulty a step at a time, the reason being, no doubt, that it must work with a rock-like and hard material.

§ 12.71 ”But the most difficult thing of all is that the sculptor must keep the very same image in his mind continuously until he finishes his work, which often takes many years. Indeed, the popular saying that the eyes are more trustworthy than the ears is perhaps true, yet they are much harder to convince and demand much greater clearness; for while the eye agrees exactly with what it sees, it is not impossible to excite and cheat the ear by filling it with representations under the spell of metre and sound.

§ 12.72 Then again, while the measures of our art are enforced upon us by considerations of numbers and magnitude, the poets have the power to increase even these elements to any extent. For this reason it was easy enough for Homer to give the size of Eris by saying, With humble crest at first, anon her head, While yet she treads the earth, affronts the skies. But I must be content, I suppose, merely to fill up the space designated by Eleans or Athenians.

§ 12.73 “Thou certainly wilt agree, O Homer, wisest of poets, who both in the power of thy poetry and in time dost by far excel and wast practically the first to show the Hellenes many beautiful images of all the gods, and especially of the greatest among them, some images mild but others fear-inspiring and dread.