Delphi Complete Works of Dio Chrysostom

by Dio Chrysostom

  After the woman had greeted her brother and her niece, his daughter, she sat down beside her husband and said, “See, there is the victim which that boy has long been feeding for his wedding day, and everything else is ready on our side. The barley and wheaten flour have been ground; only perhaps we shall need a little more wine. This too we can easily get from the village.” [77] And close beside her stood her son, glancing at his future father-in-law. He smiled at the lad and said, “There is the one who is holding things up. I believe he wants to fatten the pig a bit more.” The young man replied, “Why, she is ready to burst with fat.” [78] And wishing to help him, I said, “take care that your young man doesn’t get thin while the pig gets fat.” “Our guest speaks well,” said the mother, “for he has already grown thinner than I have ever seen him before; and I noticed a short time ago that he was wakeful in the night and went out of the hut.” “The dogs were barking,” the young man interrupted, “and I went out to see.” [79] “No, you did not,” said she, “but you were walking around distraught. So don’t let us permit him to be tortured any longer.” And throwing her arms about the girl’s mother she kissed her; and the latter, turning to her husband, said, “Let us do as they wish.” This they decided to do and said, “Let us have the wedding the day after to-morrow.” They also invited me to stay over, [80] and I did so gladly, at the same time reflecting on the character of weddings and other things among the rich, on the matchmakers, the scrutinies of property and birth, the dowries, the gifts from the bridegroom, the promises and deceptions, the contracts and agreements, and, finally, the wranglings and enmities that often occur at the wedding itself.

  [81] Now I have not told this long story idly or, as some might perhaps infer, with the desire to spin a yarn, but to present an illustration of the manner of life that I adopted at the beginning and of the life of the poor — an illustration drawn from my own experience for anyone who wishes to consider whether in words and deeds and in social intercourse the poor are at a disadvantage in comparison with the rich on account of their poverty, or in every way have the advantage. [82] And really, when I consider Euripides’ words and ask myself whether as a matter of fact the entertainment of strangers is so difficult for them that they can never welcome or succour anyone in need, I find this by no means to be true of their hospitality. They light a fire more promptly than the rich and guide one on the way without reluctance — indeed, in such matters a sense of self-respect would compel them — and often they share what they have more readily. When will you find a rich man who will give the victim of a shipwreck his wife’s or his daughter’s purple gown or any article of clothing far cheaper than that: a mantle, for example, or a tunic, though he has thousands of them, or even a cloak from one of his slaves?

  [83] Homer too illustrates this, for in Eumaeus he has given us a slave and a poor man who can still welcome Odysseus generously with food and a bed, while the suitors in their wealth and insolence share with him but grudgingly even what belongs to others, and this, I think, is just what Odysseus himself is represented as saying to Antinous when he upbraids him for his churlishness.

  “Thou wouldst not give a suppliant even salt

  In thine own house, — thou who, while sitting here,

  Fed at another’s table, canst not bear

  To give me bread from thy well-loaded board.”

  [84] But granted that such meanness on the suitors’ part was in accord with their general depravity, yet how was it with Penelope? Though she was an excellent woman, overjoyed to talk with Odysseus and learn about her husband, Homer does not say that even she gave him a cloak as he sat beside her in a bare tunic, but that she merely promised him one if it turned out that he was telling the truth about Odysseus in saying that he would arrive within the month. [85] And afterwards, when he asked for the bow, and the suitors, who could not draw it, were angry at him because he had the hardihood to vie with them in prowess, she urged that it be given to him, adding that of course her promise of marriage could not apply to him; but she promised to give him a tunic, cloak, and shoes, if he succeeded in stretching the bow and shooting through the axes; [86] as though he had to bend the bow of Eurytus and become the enemy of all those young men, and perhaps lose his life at their hands then and there, if he was to receive tunic and shoes, or else must produce Odysseus in person, who had not been seen anywhere for twenty years, and within a stated time at that, with the alternative, in case he could do neither, of departing in the same rags out of the presence of the good and prudent daughter royal of Icarius!

  [87] Other words of about the same purport Telemachus too addresses to the swineherd regarding Odysseus when he bids the latter to send him to the city as soon as possible that he may beg for alms there, and not to feed him at the steading any longer. And even if this had been agreed upon between them, yet the swineherd feels no surprise at the treatment and its inhumanity, [88] as though it were the regular procedure to deal with needy strangers thus strictly and meanly and to welcome open-heartedly with gifts and presents only the rich, from whom, of course, the host expected a like return, very much as the present custom is in selecting the recipients of our kindly treatment and preferment; [89] for what seem to be acts of kindliness and favours turn out, when examined rightly, to be loans, and that too at a high rate of interest as a usual thing, if, by heavens, conditions to-day are not worse than they used to be, just as is the case with every other evil. [90] Furthermore, I could state in regard to the Phaeacians also and their generosity, in case anyone imagines that their behaviour towards Odysseus was neither ungenerous nor unworthy of their wealth, just what motives and reasons induced them to be so open-handed and splendid in their generosity. But what I have said so far about this matter is more than sufficient.

  [91] It is certainly clear that wealth does no great service to its owners as regards the entertainment of strangers or otherwise. On the contrary, it is more likely to make them stingy and parsimonious, generally speaking, than poverty is. Even if some man of wealth may be found — one perhaps in a million — who is liberal and magnanimous in character, this by no means conclusively proves that the majority do not become worse in this regard than those whose means are limited. [92] A poor man, if he be of strong character, finds the little that he has sufficient both to enable him to regain his health when his body has been attacked by an illness not too severe — when, for example, he is visited by the sort of malady that usually attacks hard-working people whenever they overeat — and also to give acceptable gifts to strangers when they come — gifts willingly given that do not arouse the recipient’s suspicion or give him offence — [93] perhaps not silver bowls, or embroidered robes, or a four-horse chariot, which were the gifts of Helen and Menelaus to Telemachus. For the poor man would be unlikely to have such guests to welcome as satraps or kings, for instance, unless they were very temperate and good men in whose eyes no gift is inadequate which is prompted by affection. But guests that are dissolute and tyrannical they would neither be able, I suppose, to serve acceptably nor, perhaps, would they care to extend such hospitality. [94] For it surely did not turn out any better for Menelaus that he was able to receive the wealthiest prince of Asia as a guest and that nobody else in Sparta was equal to entertaining the son of King Priam. [95] For, mark you, that prince despoiled his home, appropriated his wife as well as his treasures, left the daughter motherless, and sailed away. And after that Menelaus wasted a great deal of time travelling all over Greece bewailing his misfortunes and begging every king in turn to help him. He was forced also to implore his brother to give his daughter to be sacrificed at Aulis. [96] Then for ten years he sat fighting in Troy-land, where again both he and his brother kept cajoling the leaders of the army. When this was not done, the soldiers would grow angry and on every occasion would threaten to sail for home. Besides, he endured many hardships and dire perils, after which he wandered about and was able to reach his home only after infinite trouble.

  [97] Is it not, then, most unfitting
to admire wealth as the poet does and regard it as really worth seeking? He says that its greatest good lies in giving to guests and, when any who are used to luxury come of the one’s house, being in a position to offer them lodging and set such tokens of hospitality before them as would please them most. [98] And in advancing these views we cite the poets, not to gainsay them idly nor because we are envious for their reputation for wisdom that they have won by their poems; no, it is not for these reasons we covet the honour of showing them to be wrong, but because we think that it is in them especially that we shall find the thought and feeling of men generally, just what the many think about wealth and the other objects of their admiration, and what they consider would be the greatest good derived from each of them. [99] For it is evident that men would not love the poets so passionately nor extol them as wise and good and exponents of the truth if the poetry did not echo their own sentiments nor express their own views. [100] Since, then, it is not possible to take each member of the multitude aside and show him his error or to cross-question everybody in turn by saying, “How is it, sir, that you fear poverty so exceedingly and exalt riches so highly?” and again, “What great profit do you expect to win if you happen to have amassed wealth or, let us say, to have turned merchant or even become a king?” Such a procedure would involve infinite trouble and is altogether impracticable. [101] Therefore, because we must, let us go to their prophets and spokesmen, the poets, with the conviction that we shall find among them the beliefs of the many clearly put and enshrined in verse; and in truth I do not think that we fall very far short of our object in so doing. [102] And our present procedure, I believe, is the usual one even with men wiser than myself. Indeed, one very great philosopher has expressly contradicted the sentiments contained in these same lines of Euripides, and he is a man whom I think no one would ever accuse of contradicting them and Sophocles’ words about wealth in any spirit of captiousness. He objects briefly in the former instance but in more detail in the case of Sophocles, and yet not at great length as we are now doing, since he was not discussing the question ex tempore with an orator’s full privilege but was writing in a book.

  [103] Now so much for the life of the farmer, the hunter, and the shepherd. Perhaps I have spent more time on this theme than I should have done, but I desired to show in some way or other that poverty is no hopeless impediment to a life and existence befitting free men who are willing to work with their hands, but leads them on to deeds and actions that are far better and more useful and more in accordance with nature than those to which riches are wont to attract most men. [104] Well then, it would now be our duty to consider the life and occupations of poor men who live in the capital or some other city, and see by what routine of life and what pursuits they will be able to live a really good life, one not inferior to that of men who lend out money at excessive rates of interest and understand very well the calculation of days and months, nor to that of those who own large tenement houses and ships and slaves in great numbers!

  [105] For the poor of this type suitable work may perhaps be hard to find in the cities, and will need to be supplemented by outside resources when they have to pay house-rent and buy everything they get, not merely clothes, household belongings, and food, but even the wood to supply the daily need for fire, and even any odd sticks, leaves, or other most trifling thing they need at any time, [106] and when they are compelled to pay money for everything but water, since everything is kept under lock and key, and nothing is exposed to the public except, of course, the many expensive things for sale. It will perhaps seem hard for men to subsist under such conditions who have no other possession than their own bodies, especially as we do not advise them to take any kind of work that offers or all kinds indiscriminately from which it is possible to make some money. [107] So perhaps we shall be forced in our discussion to banish the respectable poor from the cities in order to make our cities in reality cities “well-inhabited,” as Homer calls them, where only the prosperous dwell, and we shall not allow any free labourer, apparently, within the walls. But what shall we do with all these poor people? Shall we scatter them in settlements in the country as the Athenians are said to have been spread all over Attica in early times and again later when Peisistratus became tyrant? [108] That mode of life did not prove disadvantageous to the Athenians of that time, nor did it produce a degenerate breed of citizens either, but men in every way better and more temperate than those who later on got their living in the city as ecclesiasts, jurymen, and clerks — a lazy and at the same time ignoble crowd. It will not, therefore, cause any great and dire peril if all these respectable poor shall become by any end and every means rustics, but nevertheless I think that even in the city they will not fail to make a living.

  [109] But let us see what the variety and nature of the occupations are which they are to follow in order to live in what we believe is the proper way and not be often compelled to turn to something unworthy because they are out of work. The occupations and trades in the city, if all are taken into consideration, are many and of all kinds, and some of them are very profitable for those who engage in them if one thinks of money when he says “profitable.” [110] But it is not easy to name them all separately on account of their multitude, and equally because that would be out of place here. Therefore, let this brief criticism and praise of them suffice: All which are injurious to the body by impairing its health or by preventing the maintenance of its adequate strength through their inactive or sedentary character, or which engender in the soul either turpitude or illiberality or, in general, are useless and good for nothing since they owe their origin to the silly luxury of the cities — these cannot properly be called trades or occupations at all; for Hesiod, a wise man, would never have commended all occupations alike if he had thought that any evil or disgraceful thing was entitled to that name — [111] so where any of these evils, be it what it may, is attached to these activities, no self-respecting and honourable man should himself have anything to do with them or know anything about them or teach them to his sons, for he knows that he will not be what either Hesiod or we mean by “workman” if he engages in any such business, but will incur the shameful reproach of being an idler living on disgraceful gains and hear himself bluntly called sordid, good for nothing, and wicked. [112] But, on the other hand, where the occupations are not unbecoming to those who follow them and create no evil condition in their souls nor injure their health by inducing, among other diseases, physical weakness in particular, sluggishness, and softness on account of the almost complete lack of exercise, and, further, enable one to make a satisfactory living — [113] the men who engage zealously and industriously in any of these will never lack work and a living from it, nor will they give the rich any justification for calling them the “poor class,” as is their wont; on the contrary, they will be rather purveyors to the rich and lack practically nothing that is necessary and useful.

  [114] Now without describing in detail each and every occupation, but simply offering a general outline, let us mention in these two classes the kinds we do not approve of, giving our reasons, and the kinds we urge men to undertake without hesitation. Let them pay no heed to those idle objectors who are wont often to sneer obviously not only at a man’s occupation when it has nothing at all objectionable in it, but even at that of his parents, when, for instance, his mother was once on occasion someone’s hired servant or a harvester of grapes, or was a paid wet-nurse for a motherless child or a rich man’s, or when his father was a schoolmaster or a tutor. Let them, I say, feel no shame before such persons but go right ahead. [115] For if they refer to such things, they will simply be mentioning them as indications of poverty, evidently abusing and holding up poverty itself as something evil and unfortunate, and not any of these occupations. Therefore, since we maintain that to be poor is no worse and no more unfortunate than to be rich, and perhaps no less advantageous to many, the sneer at one’s occupation ought not to give any greater offence than the sneer at one’s poverty. [116] Y
ou see, if, without mentioning the thing with which they found fault, they had to bring up and denounce the things it caused from day to day, they would have a great many more and really disgraceful things caused by the possession of wealth to bring up, and not least of all what in Hesiod is adjudged the greatest shame, namely, the charge of idleness, and exclaim, “Sir,

  “Never a delver did the gods make thee, nor a ploughman,”

  adding, “In vain hast thou hands; soft and tender are they like those of the suitors.”

  [117] Now what I have to say next is, I imagine, apparent to every man and perhaps often remarked — that dyeing and perfumery, along with the dressing of men’s and women’s hair — nearly the same for both sexes to-day — and practically all adorning, not only of clothing, but even of the hair and skin by the use of alkanet, white lead, and all kinds of chemicals in the attempt to counterfeit youthfulness make a spurious image of the person, and further, the decorating of the roofs, walls, and floor of houses, now with paints, now with precious stones, here with gold and there with ivory, [118] and, again, with carving of the walls themselves — that as for these occupations, the best thing would be that cities should admit none of them at all, but that for us in our present discussion the next best thing would be to rule that none of our poor should adopt any such trade; for we are at present contending against the rich as if with a chorus, and the contest is not for happiness — that is not the prize set before poverty, or before wealth either, but is the especial reward of virtue alone — no, it is for a certain manner of life and moderation therein.

  [119] Furthermore, we shall not permit our poor to become tragic or comic actors or creators of immoderate laughter by means of certain mimes, or dancers or chorus-men either. We except, however, the sacred choruses, but not if they represent the sorrows of Niobe or Thyestes by song or dance. Nor shall the poor become harpers or flute-players contending for victory in the theatres, even if we shall offend certain distinguished cities by so doing, cities such as Smyrna or Chios, for example, and, of course, Argos too, for not permitting the glory of Homer and Agamemnon to be magnified, at least so far as we can help it. [120] Perhaps the Athenians also will have a grievance because they believe that we are disparaging their poets, tragic and comic, when we deprive them of their assistants, claiming that there is nothing good in their calling. It is likely that the Thebans too will be resentful, on the ground that indignity is being offered their victory in flute-playing which was awarded them by Greece. [121] They cherished that victory so dearly that when their city had been destroyed — almost as it remains to-day except for a small part, the Cadmea, which is still inhabited — they cared nothing for the other things that had disappeared, for the many temples, many columns and inscriptions, but the Hermes they hunted out and set up again because the inscription about the contest in flute-playing was engraved upon it.