Delphi Complete Works of Dio Chrysostom

by Dio Chrysostom

  [116] “And now, leaving this spirit, my discourse is eager, as in a contest, to bring in the third spirit, as the herald to bring in a chorus — I mean the ambitious one. He is not so very eager at present to contest, although he is naturally emulous about everything and demands to be first. However, the present trial is not concerned with the question of any fame or honour that may come to him, but with his abundant and merited dishonour. [117] So come, what garb and appearance shall we give to the ambitious spirit? Or is it manifest that he shall be winged and buoyant in keeping with his character and ambition, floating along with the breezes like those sons of Boreas whom artists have conceived and painted, lightly poised on high and running in company with their father’s breezes? [118] But while they used to display a power of their own whenever they pleased, yet for a time they went voyaging with the other heroes on the Argo, serving as their shipmates and performing the regular tasks as much as anyone. But the spirit who presides over men who love glory is always aspiring and never touches the earth or anything lowly; no, he is high and lifted up [119] as long as he enjoys a calm and clear sky or a gently blowing zephyr, feeling ever happier and happier and mounting to the very heavens, but often he is enwrapped in a dark cloud when accompanied by some unpopularity or censure from the many people whom he courts and honours and has appointed to the mastery over his own happiness.

  [120] “As to his safety, this spirit is not at all to be classed with either eagles or cranes or any other feathered species; nay, one might rather liken his flight to the violent and unnatural soaring of Icarus, whose father undertook to contrive a device that proved disastrous. [121] So then the lad, moved by the conceit of youth and desiring to soar above the stars, was safe enough for a short time, but when the fastenings became loose and the wax ran, he gave his name from this circumstance to the sea where he fell to be seen no more. [122] Just so with this spirit of ambition: When he also puts his faith in weak and truly airy wings — I mean at honours and plaudits bestowed at haphazard by the general crowd — he floats away on his perilous and unsteady voyage, taking with him the man, his admirer and henchman, who now appears to many to be high and blessed, but now again seems low and wretched, not only to others, but first and foremost to himself. [123] But if there be anyone who does not care to conceive of and portray him as winged, let him liken him to Ixion, constrained to cruel and violent gyrations as he is rapidly whirled round and round on a wheel. Indeed, the comparison of the wheel with reputation would not be unfitting nor far inferior in truth to the clever and brilliant metaphors of the rhetoricians: by its shifting movement it very readily turns round, and in its revolutions forces the soul to assume all kinds of shapes, more truly than the potter’s wheel affects the things that are being shaped upon it. [124] Such a man, ever turning and revolving, a flatterer of peoples and crowds, whether in public assemblies or lecture halls, or in his so-called friendship with tyrants or kings and his courting of them — who would not feel pity for his character and manner of living? I am not speaking of the man, however, who, having managed his own life admirably, endeavours by the persuasion of speech combined with goodwill and a sense of justice to train and direct a great multitude of men and to lead them to better things.

  [125] “Let us, then, come to an end with this spirit, too, for I should prefer at the present time not to provide him with clothing and shape, and his other appurtenances, and thus add a great and endless throng of words. [126] Put briefly, then, he could be characterized as contentious, foolish, and conceited, and a prey to vainglory, jealousy, and all such difficult and savage emotions. For it is quite inevitable that all these unsociable and savage and difficult feelings should accompany the honour-seeking type of soul, [127] and it is natural that he should change his mind often and be inconsistent — inasmuch as he serves and courts so fickle a thing — alternating between joy and sorrow more often and continuously than hunters are said to do. For they say this is their especial and most continuous experience, when they sight the game and then lose it again. [128] So it is with the ambitious: When good repute and praise come their way, their souls are magnified and swell and show a wondrous burgeoning, just like the shoot of the sacred olive that they tell of at Athens, which swelled and grew to full size in a single day. But, alas! they soon wither again and droop and die when censure and obloquy overtake them. [129] And Delusion, the most convincing thing imaginable, besets this spirit also. For while the miser’s delusion and the hedonist’s were not able to promise them definitely a brilliant fruition, and did not open the door for their dupes to exalted and splendid destinies, but merely whispered and suggested to them the names of the blessings in prospect, it is otherwise with the Delusion of ambition. Fascinating her victim with her charms and spells, she tells him he is a lover of all that is good and leads him towards notoriety as to some virtue or fair renown. [130] So I shall be tempted here again to make a second allusion to the same story of Ixion. ’Tis said that in his eagerness for the blissful union with Hera he embraced a dark and dismal cloud and became the parent of a useless and monstrous brood, the curious hybrid race of the centaurs. [131] And in the same way he who has been disappointed in his love for true fame and has then dallied with a lust for notoriety has in reality been consorting with a cloud without knowing it instead of enjoying intercourse with the divine and august. And from such associations and unions nothing useful or serviceable can come, but only strange irrational creations that resemble the centaurs — [132] I mean the political acts of certain demagogues and the treatises of the sophists; for both sophists and demagogues are purely mercenary leaders. But in saying this I distinguish the generals and educators and statesmen from those whom I have just mentioned, all of whom may well be assigned to that spirit of ambition and be counted in its faction and following.

  [133] “And now I have described those who are under the sway of each of the spirits named; but very often two or all of them get hold of the same individual, make conflicting demands upon him, and threaten that, if he does not obey, they will inflict severe penalties upon him. [134] The pleasure-loving spirit bids him to spend money on pleasures and to spare neither gold nor silver nor anything else he has, while the avaricious and parsimonious spirit objects, and checks him and threatens that it will destroy him with hunger, thirst, and utter beggary and want, so surely as he heeds the other. [135] Again, the spirit that loves distinction counsels and encourages him to sacrifice all that he has for the sake of honour, but the other spirit opposes and blocks this one. And indeed, the lover of pleasure and the lover of fame can never be in accord or say the same thing; for the one despises fame, thinks it nonsense, and often cites the lines of Sardanapallus:

  ‘What I have eaten and wantoned, the joys I have had of my amours,

  These alone have I now. The rest of my blessings have vanished.’

  [136] And especially does this spirit ever keep death before his eyes, warning him that when dead he will be able to enjoy no pleasures any longer. But the spirit that courts fame leads, yea, drags him away from pleasure by keeping him in mind of the censure and reproach that will be his. [137] Not knowing, therefore, what to do or whither to turn and hide himself, he often runs away into the darkness and under its cover tries to please and serve the second spirit, [138] but the other finds him out and drags him into the open, and his soul, thus torn and distracted and ever in battle and ceaseless strife with itself, cannot but end its course in utter misery. For just as a complication of maladies, that often seem to conflict with one another, make the cure difficult and well-nigh hopeless, so, in my opinion, must the situation be when different affections of the soul are mingled and entwined into one.

  [139] “But come, let us attain a pure harmony, better than that which we enjoyed before, and extol the good and wise guardian spirit or god — us who the kindly Fates decreed should receive Him when we should have gained a sound education and reason.”

  THE FIFTH DISCOURSE: A LIBYAN MYTH

  It has been suggested
by some that the Libyan myth told in the fifth Discourse was one of a collection of myths ascribed to a certain Cybissus, a Libyan. Others discredit this view and hold that we have here one of the many stories told about Lamia, a fabulous she-monster, the daughter of Scylla, who devoured the flesh of children and young men. Hirzel, in his book Der Dialog, suggests that this myth was invented by Dio himself. The same myth seems to be referred to in the seventy-third section of the fourth Discourse, and von Arnim believes it formed an alternative ending for it and that Arethas (archbishop of Caesarea in Cappadocia in the first part of the tenth century A.D.) supplied it with an introduction of his own and made it a separate Discourse.

  A similar story is told by Lucian in Vera Historia, II.76.

  The Fifth Discourse: A Libyan Myth

  To develop a Libyan myth and to fritter away one’s industry upon such a subject is not a promising undertaking, — indeed not, since these themes do not incline the most able men to imitation. Nevertheless, we must not refrain because of their contempt from dallying with such themes. For perhaps we ourselves should derive no small benefit if the myth in some way were given the right turn and became a parable of the real and the true. [2] Now when one employs his powers to such an end, he suggests to me the farmer’s treatment of plant-life, when it is successful. Sometimes by grafting cultivated and fruit-bearing scions on wild and barren stocks and making them grow there, he changes a useless and unprofitable plant into a useful and profitable one. [3] And in just the same way, when some useful and edifying moral is engrafted on an unprofitable legend, the latter is saved from being a mere idle tale. Perhaps, too, those who composed these tales in the first place composed them for some such purpose, using allegory and metaphor for such as had the power to interpret them aright. [4] So much by way of prelude to my ode, as someone has said. It still remains to recite and sing the ode itself, that is, the myth which tells to what we may best liken the human passions.

  [5] Once upon a time, so runs the story, there was a dangerous and savage species of animal whose main haunt was in the uninhabited regions of Libya. For that country even to this day seems to produce all sorts of living creatures, reptiles as well as other kinds. [6] Now among them was the species with which this story has to deal. It had a body that, in general, was a composite thing of the most incongruous parts, an utter monstrosity, and it used to roam as far as the Mediterranean and the Syrtis in search of food. [7] For it hunted both the beasts of prey such as the lion and the panther, even as those hunt the deer and the wild asses and the sheep, but took the most delight in catching men; and this is why it used to come near the settlements even as far as the Syrtis. [8] The Syrtis is an arm of the Mediterranean extending far inland, a three days’ voyage, they say, for a boat unhindered in its course. But those who have once sailed into it find egress impossible; [9] for shoals, cross-currents, and long sand-bars extending a great distance out make the sea utterly impassable or troublesome. For the bed of the sea in these parts is not clean, but as the bottom is porous and sandy it lets the sea seep in, there being no solidity to it. [10] This, I presume, explains the existence there of the great sand-bars and dunes, which remind one of the similar condition created inland by the winds, though here, of course, it is due to the surf. The surrounding country is very much the same — a lonely stretch of sandy dunes. [11] However that may be, if shipwrecked mariners came inland or any Libyans were compelled to pass through or lost their way, the beasts would make their appearance and seize them.

  [12] The general character and appearance of their body were as follow: the face was that of a woman, a brief woman. The breast and bosom, and the neck, too, were extremely beautiful, the like of which no mortal maid or bride in the bloom of youth could claim, nor sculptor or painter will ever be able to reproduce. The complexion was of dazzling brightness, the glance of the eyes aroused affection and yearning in the souls of all that beheld. [13] The rest of the body was hard and protected by scales, and all the lower part was snake, ending in the snake’s baleful head. Now the story does not say that these animals were winged like the sphinxes — nor that they, like them, spoke or made any sound whatever except a hissing noise such as dragons make, very shrill — but that they were the swiftest of all land creatures, so that no one could ever escape them. [14] And while they overcame other creatures by force, they used guile with man, giving them a glimpse of their bosom and breasts and at the same time they infatuated their victims by fixing their eyes upon them, and filled them with a passionate desire for intercourse. Then the men would approach them as they might women, while they on their part stood quite motionless, often dropping their eyes in the manner of a decorous woman. [15] But as soon as a man came within reach they seized him in their grasp; for they had clawlike hands too, which they had kept concealed at first. Then the serpent would promptly sting and kill him with his poison; and the dead body was devoured by the serpent and the rest of the beast together.

  [16] Now this myth, which has not been invented for a child’s benefit to make it less rash and ungovernable, but for those whose folly is greater and more complete, may perhaps, now that we have brought it into this context, be able to show adequately the character of the passions, that they are irrational and brutish and that, by holding out the enticement of some pleasure, they win over the foolish by guile and witchery and bring them to a most sad and pitiable end. [17] These things we should always keep before our eyes to deter us — even as those terrifying images deter children when they want food or play or anything else unseasonably — whenever we are in love with luxury, or money, or sensual indulgence, or fame, or any other pleasure, lest, coming too near to these unscrupulous passions, we be seized by them for the most shameful destruction and ruin conceivable. [18] And, indeed, to interpret the rest of the myth in this way would not be a difficult task for a clever man who perhaps has more time at his disposal than he should have.

  For this is what they add to the myth. A certain king of Libya attempted to destroy this breed of animals, angered as he was at the destruction of his people. And he found that many of them had established themselves there, having taken possession of a dense wild wood beyond the Syrtis. [19] So he mustered a mighty host and found their dens. For they were not difficult to detect owing to the trails left by their serpents’ tails and to the terrible stench that emanated from the dens. He thus surrounded them on all sides and hurled fire in upon them, so that, being cut off, they perished with their young. As for the Libyans, they fled with all haste from the region, resting neither night nor day, until, thinking they had gained a great start, they halted for rest beside a certain river. [20] But those of the creatures who had been away hunting, as soon as they learned of the destruction of their dens, pursued the army to the river, and finding some asleep and others exhausted by the toil, destroyed them one and all. [21] At that time, then, the task of destroying this brood was not completed by the king. Later, however — so the story continues — Heracles, while clearing the whole earth of wild beasts and tyrants, came to this place too, set it on fire, and when the creatures were escaping from the flames, slew with his club all that attacked him, and with his arrows those that tried to run away.

  [22] Now perhaps the myth is an allegory to show that, when the majority of men try to clear the trackless region of their souls, teeming with savage beasts, by rooting out and destroying the brood of lusts in the hope of then having got rid of them and escaped, and yet have not one this thoroughly, they are soon afterwards overwhelmed and destroyed by the remaining lusts; [23] but that Heracles, the son of Zeus and Alcmene, carried the task through to completion and made his own heart pure and gentle or tame; and that this is what is meant by his taming, that is, civilizing the earth.

  [24] Would you care, then, to have me gratify the younger people among you by giving a brief additional portion of the myth? For they believe so thoroughly in it and are so convinced of its truth as to assert that one of this brood appeared to the oracle of Ammon under the escort of a
strong force of cavalry and archers. [25] They saw what seemed to be a woman, reclining on a pile of sand; she wore a sheepskin thrown over her head after the manner of the Libyan women, but displayed her bosom and breasts and lay with her head thrown back. They supposed that she was one of the professional harlots from some village who was on her way thither to join their company. [26] Accordingly, a certain two young men, greatly taken with her appearance, approached her, one outstripping the other. When the creature seized this one, she dragged him into a hole in the sand and devoured him. [27] The other young man, rushing past her, saw this and cried aloud so that the rest of the party came to his assistance. But the creature hurled itself at the young man with the snake part foremost, and after killing him disappeared with a hissing sound. They add that the body was found rotten and putrefying, and that the Libyans who were acting as guides permitted no one to touch the body lest all should perish.

  THE SIXTH DISCOURSE: DIOGENES, OR ON TYRANNY

  Von Arnim has proved quite conclusively that the sixth, eighth, ninth, and tenth Discourses belong to the period when Dio was a wanderer in exile. For example, many things that Dio speaks of Diogenes doing, such as going through armies safely without a herald’s staff, fit better the experience of Dio himself, and many of the references to the Persian king would apply just as well to Domitian, who banished Dio. No doubt the speaker’s audiences would understand his veiled allusions quite easily.

  In these Discourses Dio sets forth certain tenets of the Cynical philosophy, using Diogenes as his mouthpiece. His subject is Contentment.

  The Sixth Discourse: Diogenes, or On Tyranny

  When Diogenes of Sinope was exiled from that place, he came to Greece and used to divide his time between Corinth and Athens. And he said he was following the practice of the Persian king. For that monarch spent the winters in Babylon and Susa, or occasionally in Bactra, which are the warmest parts of Asia, and the summers in Median Ecbatana, where the air is always very cool and the summer is like the winter in the region of Babylon. [2] So he too, he said, changed his residence according to the seasons of year. For Attica had no high mountains, nor rivers running through it as had the Peloponnese and Thessaly; its soil was thin and the air so dry that rain rarely fell, and what did fall was not retained. Besides, it was almost entirely surrounded by the sea; from which fact indeed it got its name, since Attica is a sort of beach-land. [3] The city, moreover, was low-lying and faced to the south, as shown by the fact that those sailing from Sunium could not enter the Peiraeus except with a south wind. Naturally, therefore, the winters were mild. In Corinth, on the other hand, the summer was breezy, since currents of air always met there on account of the bays that dented the shore. The Acrocorinthus, too, overshadows it, and the city itself rather inclines toward the Lechaeum and the north. [4] Diogenes thought that these cities were far more beautiful than Ecbatana and Babylon, and that the Craneion, and the Athenian acropolis with the Propylaea were far more beautiful structures than those abodes of royalty, yielding to them only in size. And yet the circumference of Athens was two hundred stades, now that the Peiraeus and the connecting walls had been added to the compass of the city — for this whole area was not inhabited in ancient times — so that Athens was one-half as large as Babylon, if we could take as true what was said of things there. [5] Moreover, in respect to the beauty of the harbours, and, further, to the statues, paintings, the works in gold, silver, and bronze, in respect to the coinage, the furnishings, the splendour of the houses, he thought that Athens was far superior; only he, for his part, did not care much about such things.