Delphi Complete Works of Dio Chrysostom

by Dio Chrysostom

  So let us consider the poets: I would counsel you to read Menander of the writers of Comedy quite carefully, and Euripides of the writers of Tragedy, and to do so, not casually by reading them to yourself, but by having them read to you by others, preferably by men who know how to render the lines pleasurably, but at any rate so as not to offend. For the effect is enhanced when one is relieved of the preoccupation of reading. [7] And let no one of the more ‘advanced’ critics chide me for selecting Menander’s plays in preference to the Old Comedy, or Euripides in preference to the earlier writers of Tragedy. For physicians do not prescribe the most costly diet for their patients, but that which is salutary. Now it would be a long task to enumerate all the advantages to be derived from these writers; indeed, not only has Menander’s portrayal of every character and every charming trait surpassed all the skill of the early writers of Comedy, but the suavity and plausibility of Euripides, while perhaps not completely attaining to the grandeur of the tragic poet’s way of deifying his characters, or to his high dignity, are very useful for the man in public life; and furthermore, he cleverly fills his plays with an abundance of characters and moving incidents, and strews them with maxims useful on all occasions, since he was not without acquaintance with philosophy.

  [8] But Homer comes first and in the middle and last, in that he gives of himself to every boy and adult and old man just as much as each of them can take. Lyric and elegiac poetry too, and iambics and dithyrambs are very valuable for the man of leisure, but the man who intends to have a public career and at the same time to increase the scope of his activities and the effectiveness of his oratory, will have no time for them. [9] But the historians for many reasons the statesman must read attentively, because, even apart from the speeches they contain, it is most essential that the statesman, the man who chooses to conduct public affairs, should be acquainted with measures and successes and failures, which happen not only in accordance with reasonable expectation, but also at times contrary thereto, to both men and states. And the reason for this statement is that it is the man with the widest knowledge of what had happened to others who will best carry out his own undertakings, and, so far as it is possible, safely, while every reverse he will bear nobly because of the fact that even in his successes he was never unaware of the possibility of a change to the opposite fortune.

  [10] As for Herodotus, if you ever want real enjoyment, you will read him when quite at your ease, for the easy-going manner and charm of his narrative will give the impression that his work deals with stories rather than with actual history. But among the foremost historians I place Thucydides, and among those of second rank Theopompus; for not only is there a rhetorical quality in the narrative portion of his speeches, but he is not without eloquence nor negligent in expression, and the slovenliness of his diction is not so bad as to offend you. As for Ephorus, while he hands down to us a great deal of information about events, yet the tediousness and carelessness of his narrative style would not suit your purpose.

  [11] When it comes to the orators, however, who does not know which are the best — Demosthenes for the vigour of his style, the impressiveness of his thought, and the copiousness of his vocabulary, qualities in which he surpasses all other orators; and Lysias for his brevity, the simplicity and coherence of his thought, and for his well concealed cleverness. However, I should not advise you to read these two chiefly, but Hypereides rather and Aeschines; for the faculties in which they excel are simpler, their rhetorical embellishments are easier to grasp, and the beauty of their diction is not one whit inferior to that of the two who are ranked first. But I should advise you to read Lycurgus as well, since he has a lighter touch than those others and reveals a certain simplicity and nobility of character in his speeches.

  [12] At this point I say it is advisable — even if some one, after reading my recommendation of the consummate masters of oratory, is going to find fault — also not to remain unacquainted with the more recent orators, those who lived a little before our time; I refer to the works of such men as Antipater, Theodorus, Plution, and Conon, and to similar material. For the powers they display can be more useful to us because, when we read them, our judgment is not fettered and enslaved, as it is when we approach the ancients. For when we find that we are able to criticize what hasº been said, we are most encouraged to attempt the same things ourselves, and we find more pleasure in comparing ourselves with others [13] when we are convinced that in the comparison we should be found to be not inferior to them, with the chance, occasionally, of being even superior.

  I shall now turn to the Socratics, writers who, I affirm, are quite indispensable to every man who aspires to become an orator. For just as no meat without salt will be gratifying to the taste, so no branch of literature, as it seems to me, could possibly be pleasing to the ear if it lacked the Socratic grace.

  It would be a long task to eulogize the others; even to read them is no light thing. [14] But it is my own opinion that Xenophon, and he alone of the ancients, can satisfy all the requirements of a man in public life. Whether one is commanding an army in time of war, or is guiding the affairs of a state, or is addressing a popular assembly or a senate, or even if he were addressing a court of law and desired, not as a professional master of eloquence merely, but as a statesman or a royal prince, to utter sentiments appropriate to such a character at the bar of justice, the best exemplar of all, it seems to me, and the most profitable for all these purposes is Xenophon. For not only are his ideas clear and simple and easy for everyone to grasp, but the character of his narrative style is attractive, pleasing, and convincing, being in a high degree true to life in the representation of character, with much charm also and effectiveness, so that his power suggests not cleverness but actual wizardry. [15] If, for instance, you should be willing to read his work on the March Inland very carefully, you will find no speech, such as you will one day possess the ability to make, whose subject matter he has not dealt with and can offer as a kind of norm to any man who wishes to steer his course by him or imitate him. If it is needful for the statesman to encourage those who are in the depths of despondency, time and again our writer shows how to do this; or if the need is to incite and exhort, no one who understands the Greek language could fail to be aroused by Xenophon’s hortatory speeches. [16] My own heart, at any rate, is deeply moved and at times I weep even as I read his account of all those deeds of valour. Or, if it is necessary to deal prudently with those who are proud and conceited and to avoid, on the one hand, being affected in any way by their displeasure, or, on the other, enslaving one’s own spirit to them in unseemly fashion and doing their will in everything, guidance in this also is to be found in him. And also how to hold secret conferences both with generals apart from the common soldiers and with the soldiers in the same way; the proper manner of conversing with kings and princes; how to deceive enemies to their hurt and friends for their own benefit; how to tell the plain truth to those who are needlessly disturbed without giving offence, and to make them believe it; how not to trust too readily those in authority over you, and the means by which such persons deceive their inferiors, and the way in which men outwit and are outwitted — [17] on all these points Xenophon’s treatise gives adequate information. For I imagine that it is because he combines deeds with words, because he did not learn by hearsay nor by copying, but by doing deeds himself as well as telling of them, that he made his speeches most convincingly true to life in all his works and especially in this one which I chanced to mention. And be well assured that you will have no occasion to repent, but that both in the senate and before the people you will find this great man reaching out a hand to you if you earnestly and diligently read him.

  [18] Writing, however, I do not advise you to engage in with your own hand, or only very rarely, but rather to dictate to a secretary. For, in the first place, the one who utters his thoughts aloud is more nearly in the mood of a man addressing an audience than is one who writes, and, in the second place, less labour is invol
ved. Again, while it contributes less to effectiveness in delivery than writing does, it contributes more to your habit of readiness. But when you do write, I do not think it best for you to write these made-up school exercises; yet if you must write, take one of the speeches that you enjoy reading, preferably one of Xenophon’s, and either oppose what he said, or advance the same arguments in a different way. [19] And yet repeating what his speeches contain is better still if you have a good memory for it. For this makes one thoroughly familiar with both the way he expresses his thoughts and the accuracy with which his thoughts are conceived. I say this, not to encourage you to string together line for line an entire treatise, as schoolboys do, but that you may thoroughly master anything that happens to please you especially. I should have written at great length about this to a lad, but for you, thus much is sufficient. For if you call to memory only very small portions, you will derive great benefit; whereas if you should feel disinclined and find the effort painful, this work is not absolutely necessary.

  [20] Well, I seem to have extended my advice to great length, but you yourself are to blame for that by persuading and challenging me. Just as expert wrestlers sometimes give way to those who are weaker and make them believe that they are stronger, so you seem to have led me on to write and tell what you, as it happens, know better yourself, just as if you did not know it so well. But I should prefer, if it proved agreeable to you, that we should get together some time and by reading the ancient writers and discussing them render some service to each other. [21] Just as it is not enough to say to painters and to sculptors that their colours should be just so and that their lines should be just so, but they derive the greatest help if the critic can see them at work, painting or modelling; and just as it is not sufficient for the gymnastic masters to name the different holds in wrestling, but they must go on and demonstrate them to the youth who wishes to learn; so too in consultations like this, the help would be greater if one were to see the man who has given the advice in action himself. I declare for my part that even if I had to read aloud to you while you listened, for the sake of helping you I should not hesitate, since I both love you and admire you for your ambition, and am grateful for the honour you have shown me.

  THE NINETEENTH DISCOURSE: ON THE AUTHOR’S FONDNESS FOR LISTENING TO MUSIC, THE DRAMA, AND ORATORY

  In this fragment Dio relates an incident which occurred during his exile. He had come to Cyzicus to meet some friends and fellow-townsmen who evidently wished him to deliver an address in which he should tell the story of his wanderings; but he was saved from doing so by the arrival of a bard who drew the attention of all, Dio included, to himself. Then he speaks of the great pleasure he gets in listening to those who sing and play the lyre and to actors. This leads him to refer to the state of Comedy and Tragedy in his day. At this point the Discourse as we have it breaks off, and we can only conjecture as to what was the subject of the Discourse proper. Possibly Dio went on to speak in detail of music or of the drama.

  This pleasing introduction to his main subject reminds us of the seventh Discourse, in vol. I, where Dio tells of his experience with the hunters of Euboea in order to secure our attention to what follows.

  The Nineteenth Discourse: On the Author’s Fondness for Listening to Music, the Drama, and Oratory

  A number of my intimate friends had long been asking for an opportunity to meet me; and besides, many of my fellow-citizens were said to be eager to see me, considering that I have a certain advantage over most men because of my wanderings and the reversal of my fortunes, and the bodily hardships which I was supposed to have experienced. And finally they went so far as actually to find fault with me and maintain that I was not treating them fairly. But I for my part refused to go near to the actual boundary; on the contrary, it seemed to me that any such act befitted a man who was utterly crushed by his exile and very eager to be restored; just as those who have left nothing in the cup are evidently very thirsty. [2] So I went to Cyzicus and stopped there to give any of my friends who wished it the chance to confer with me. And then came the bard of the proverb and saved me by singing a song to them.

  For there came to Cyzicus a bard who, as some assert, is the best of those of this time and in fact a man inferior not even to any of the great bards of the past, nay not even to Arion, who was saved from the sea — they must evidently have judged by divination, for how else could they be sure when they had not heard that famous bard of old? — and as soon as they learned that the man was in town, straightway tremendous interest was aroused and all the people began to wend their way to the senate house. [3] So I too, thinking that I also might listen and thus enjoy a share in such a splendid entertainment, as one of the throng of three thousand and more, arrived among the first, very expectant indeed. I am fond of indulging my ears and absolutely devoted to music, although I have no great skill myself in it; so that, if it had been my fortune to live in Orpheus’ time, I fancy that I should have been the first one to follow in his train, even though I should have been obliged to mingle with a drove of fawns and calves; and I should have felt no shame. For even now I am often affected as they were, whenever I attend a sophist’s lecture, on account of the uncontrolled craving which possesses me for the spoken word; and so I herd with the sort of creatures I have mentioned, graceful and beautiful, to be sure, but yet noisy and eager for a chance to kick up their heels.

  [4] And this is the way I have nearly always been affected when listening to sophists and orators. Just as beggars on account of their own destitution envy the moderately well-to-do, so I admire and applaud those who are in any way at all proficient in speech, because I myself am lacking in such proficiency. But I must say that the performance of those who sing to the harp, aye, and of the actors too, seems to me in no small degree superior to the pleasure it gives. For their voices are louder and undoubtedly better modulated, while their language is not extempore like that of the orators, who generally try to speak without preparation; but poets have composed painstakingly and at their leisure. [5] And the most of what they give us comes from ancient times, and from much wiser men than those of the present. In the case of comedy everything is kept; in the case of tragedy only the strong parts, it would seem, remain — I mean the iambics, and portions of these they still give in our theatres — but the more delicate parts have fallen away, that is, the lyric parts. I might illustrate by the case of old men: all the firm parts of the body resist the ravages of time, namely, the bones and the muscles; but everything else shrivels up. This is the reason that the bodies of the extremely old men are seen to be wasted and shrunken, whereas all those old men who are corpulent because of their wealth and luxury, although they have no strength left but only fat instead of flesh, do seem well nourished and younger to the great majority.

  THE TWENTIETH DISCOURSE: ON RETIREMENT

  Here Dio discusses the real meaning of ‘retirement.’ It does not consist in going away somewhere to avoid a duty or a danger, or even to get freedom from distraction. To retire in the true sense is to fix one’s mind upon the things that truly matter and to disregard trivial things and distractions from without. Retirement from the haunts of men merely affords foolish and wicked men an opportunity to give themselves up to their foolish and wicked thoughts and to plan how they may make their imaginings come true. Nothing is said of the good use to which the good may put such retirement. The similarities between this Discourse and Seneca’s fifty-sixth Letter led E. Weber (De Dione Chrysostomo Cynicorum Sectatore, ) to the conclusion that Dio and Seneca drew from a common Stoic or Cynic source.

  Von Arnim, who maintains that Dio, with the disappearance of his anti-monarchical feelings, dropped the use of the word μόναρχοι (‘monarchs’), which occurs in § 24, would place this Discourse in the reign of Domitian. We may be sure at any rate that it was not written in Dio’s youth, when he was a sophist.

  The Twentieth Discourse: On Retirement

  Just what, pray, is the meaning of the word ‘retirement,’ and who
m should we define as men who are ‘retiring’? Is it those who are giving up their proper tasks and activities of whom we should say that they are retiring? For example, if some one enjoying Athenian citizenship, when the obligation falls on him to serve in the field in defence of his country because the Spartans have invaded Attica, or Philip is attacking them, or some other enemy, should retire or withdraw to Megara or Aegina in order to avoid serving or risking his life, could this man be described as having retired? [2] Or if some one possesses a great fortune should for the sake of avoiding the public services required of the rich leave the city? Or if a man who is qualified to heal the sick, and then when the sick are friends and intimates of his, should abandon them and go on a visit to some other place in order to avoid catching the disease and the trouble of treating them? Or if somebody else, on being required to present himself for public duty in the city along with the rest, should be unwilling to hold an office or assist those in office or do any service as guard which would necessitate his losing sleep, but in order to be rid of all these duties and not let even one man call him to account or hinder him from drinking and sleeping and loafing, should retire to some other place — should these men be described as ‘retiring’? No, these men are evidently fleeing and deserting, and there can be no excuse for them or pardon for taking a vacation in this manner and running away.

  [3] It may be, then, that it is those who withdraw from unprofitable enterprises and time-consuming activities which do not properly concern them, and who get themselves some leisure from useless annoyances, that should be defined as ‘retiring.’ But if that is right, it is not the man who has moved from some city to another one or from one place to another that could be described as ‘retiring.’ For wherever he goes, there will be many things getting in his way and not allowing him to do the things which properly concern him. For the fact is that spending much time in somebody’s company and in continual drinking, or dicing, or in doing some other harmful and unprofitable thing are practices to be met with everywhere — and wasting all one’s time in palavering with anyone you happen to meet, and in listening to talk that is utterly futile, or spending your time discoursing about the affairs of the Emperor or of what’s his name, as some one has said. [4] For the fool is not master of his own soul, but is whirled this way and that and is easily led by any chance pretext or association.