[19] But the man who actually gained all the blessings found among mankind must be worthy to be accounted happy in his death also. For if the longest possible time were best for man, we might well have lamented over him in that regard; but as it is, seeing that all the life given to man is but short, you will find that with very many men it would have been much better if they had died sooner, so many are the misfortunes that overtake them. [20] Again, in the case of the most eminent men of ancient times, history tells us that none of them reached a great age, neither Patroclus nor Antilochus, and further, neither Sarpedon, nor Memnon, nor Achilles, nor Hippolytus; nor the Boeotians, Otus and Ephialtes, who, Homer says, were the tallest and handsomest men ever born next to Orion, nor Orion himself. But these men perished owing to their folly, while the others whom I have mentioned were called by men children and offspring of gods. Now the gods would not have given an early death to their own children and those whom they especially loved if they did not consider this a good thing for mankind.
[21] Therefore, sirs, you should take these considerations into account and regard him as blessed, and should yourself therefore be none the less eager for toil and the distinction it brings, since you may be sure that, if it should be anyone’s lot to die too soon, he will be without part in any of these blessings; for the man who gains fair renown departs laden with blessings. Come then, train zealously and toil hard, the younger men in the belief that this man’s place has been left to them, the older in a way that befits their own achievements; yes, and take all the pride in these things that men should who live for praise and glory and are devotees of virtue. [22] And after the departed, honour him by remembrance, not by tears; for that tribute would not be a seemly one for noble men to give a noble man, nor should I commend Homer for saying that the sands and their armour were bedewed with the tears of the Achaeans. However, he aimed rather to give poetic pleasure when he pictured excessive lamenting, but do you bear your grief with self-control.
THE THIRTIETH DISCOURSE: CHARIDEMUS
At the beginning Dio is speaking with a certain Timarchus and the younger of his two sons, also named Timarchus, about the death of the older son, Charidemus, who had had a great love and admiration for Dio. From the father Dio learns that Charidemus shortly before his death had dictated an address for the consolation of his father, brother, and friends. On learning this Dio at once urges the father to read the address to him and the father complies.
In this address three possible explanations of the life of man are offered. According to the first one, §§ 10-24, this world is a prison in which men are punished by the gods, who hate them because they are of the blood of the Titans. When any man’s punishment is completed, or he has left a son to suffer punishment in his stead, he is allowed to escape by death. According to the second explanation, §§ 26-27, this world is a colony founded by the gods for men, their descendants, whom at first they kept under their protection, but afterwards allowed to shift for themselves. The third explanation represents this world as a beautiful palace where men are entertained at a banquet from which God summons to himself those who have comported themselves best.
After hearing this address Dio commends it highly and attempts to console the bereaved father and the younger son.
In form this Discourse is a dialogue, reported directly, which contains a verbatim report of Charidemus’ address, which, in its turn, is made up almost entirely of indirect reports of what certain men, not definitely indicated, have said in explanation of man’s life in this world. The important part of the Discourse is, of course, Charidemus’s address, which gives these three explanations, while the conversation between Dio and the two bereaved ones is merely a framework to hold it. In Plato’s Phaedo also, which according to Philostratus (Lives of Sophists, 8.1 f. K.) was Dio’s favourite book on philosophy, the important part consists of the last words of Socrates as reported by Phaedo to his friend Echecrates. Corresponding to these last words of Socrates we have here the deathbed message of Charidemus. And further, Charidemus shows in the face of death the same fortitude and resignation that Socrates did.
But did such a person as Charidemus, Dio’s ideal of a young religious philosopher, ever have an existence, as Socrates did; or have we merely a product of the imagination? von Arnim feels sure that he is a real character, while others are not so certain. On this point there is the same difference of opinion as there is regarding the actuality of Melancomas, Dio’s ideal young athlete. All, however, seem agreed that the conversation between Dio and the two bereaved is fictitious. But those who believe that Charidemus is a real character have next to consider whether the address on the life of man is really his work, modified perhaps by Dio, or whether it is altogether Dio’s. von Arnim thinks that the address is not at all like any of Dio’s work, but Friedrich Wilhelm (Philologus, vol. 75, 1918, p-365) has pointed out enough idea of Dio’s in it that are found in other Discourses of his, and also enough of his familiar words and phrases, to refute this view.
In the next place, can we identify the man who, Charidemus says, offered him the explanation that this world is a prison? Dümmler (Academica, f.) and Hagen (Questiones Dioneae, ) suggest that he is the Cynic philosopher Antisthenes, while Friedrich Wilhelm (loc. cit., , footnote) maintains that he is a fictitious character. But we note that, although Charidemus begins with giving this explanation with § 10, he gives no hint of its source until he reaches the end of § 19, where, as if forgetting himself for the moment, he speaks as if it were his own. Then, at the beginning of § 20, he credits a wandering philosopher with giving him when a child some details about the chain to which all men are bound. After giving these details and therewith finishing the first explanation of man’s life, Charidemus says in § 25 that he believes this explanation comes from ‘some morose man who had suffered a great deal in his life and only late had gained true education’ (just like the two dogs in Discourse .). — It is this description of the man which makes Dümmler, Hagen, and Sonny think of Antisthenes. Now is Charidemus crediting this ‘morose man’ with the first explanation as a whole, or only with the part beginning with § 20? If the latter is the case, and the ‘wandering philosopher’ is identical with the ‘morose man,’ then Dio himself answers fairly well to this description. For Dio became a wandering philosopher during his exile and only then, as he believed, got true education, when he was [42] years of age or older. This would be ‘late in life’ for getting an education; or does he mean that this ‘morose man’ learned later not to regard this world as a prison? And it may well be that he was made ‘morose’ for the time being from having ‘suffered a great deal in his life.’ Is Dio thinking of himself when he uses these words, just as he is in Discourse ., where he speaks of a ‘sore distressed soul, having in the course of life drained the cup of many misfortunes and griefs, nor ever winning sweet sleep’? And besides, would not the injustice of his exile and the hardships which he endured tend to make him have a gloomy outlook on life and accept the opinions of those who regarded this world as a prison?
Of course, when we identify the ‘morose’ man with the ‘wandering philosopher’ the first part of the explanation, where the world is spoken of as a prison, is not really credited to any one person, but it would seem reasonable to suppose that the man believing the second part of the first explain would accept the first part also, especially as the idea of men being bound to a chain is common to both. On the other hand, if we think of the ‘morose man’ as not identical with the ‘wandering philosopher,’ then in this morose man with his many sufferings in life we still have a fairly good description of the exiled Dio with only the one detail of his wandering life lacking, and the first explanation as a whole is definitely ascribed to him.
Once more, who is the ‘peasant,’ also mentioned in § 25, ‘who spoke with a very rustic drawl and accent,’ the one from whom Charidemus says he heard the second and third explanations? Dümmler believes that it was one of the later Cynics, possibly Bion; but Sonny, while agreeing in th
e main, thinks that this later Cynic was more likely Cleanthes, because the man is described as a peasant. For Diogenes Laertius (7.2, p-171) says that Cleanthes made his living by watering a garden and digging earth. And further, the words ‘in praise of Zeus and the other gods’ may refer to Cleanthes’ Hymn to Zeus. Friedrich Wilhelm, on the other hand, thinks that this peasant is a purely imaginary character.
But no matter how we identify the ‘morose man’ and the ‘peasant,’ it seems reasonable to suppose that the three explanations of life represent three stages in Dio’s own belief. After returning from exile he naturally acquired a more cheerful outlook on life and came to think of the gods as merely having become indifferent to men, and then later the prison has become a beautiful palace in which the king of the gods gives royal entertainment to men and rewards the best. Yet some parts of Dio’s belief did not change. He believed throughout that the gods exist, that they have something to do with man, and that man may overcome evil and receive his reward.
And finally, there is the question as to the immediate and the ultimate sources of these three explanations of life and this world. Of course, if we believe that Antisthenes, the founder of the Cynic sect, offered the first and Cleanthes the second and third, for us a good deal of the question is settled. If we do not, then there is a great uncertainty. However, it has been shown that the idea of the world as a prison is Pythagorean and Orphic in origin, while Friedrich Wilhelm has offered a good many reasons for believing that Dio drew upon Posidonius for parts of all three explanations, although he with others thinks that there is a large Cynic element in the third. And since there are some thoughts that can be paralleled in Xenophon and Plato, it is reasonable to suppose that Dio drew to some extent also from these, his favourite authors.
THE THIRTIETH DISCOURSE: CHARIDEMUS
Dio. I had heard about the death of Charidemus some time ago, even before I saw you; for when I landed here, I straightway made inquiries about certain other persons and most especially about these two, wishing to learn where they were and how they were getting on. Then I chanced upon a man who did not know them very well, but had merely heard their names, who asked me if I meant the sons of Timarchus; and when I replied in the affirmative, he told me that this one, meaning the younger, was still in Messenia with you on account of his mourning for his brother; for, he said, the elder of the two had died. [2] So it was clear that he was reporting the death of Charidemus. Yet even then there appeared to be some uncertainty, although the man had spoken clearly enough; but afterwards we came to know with more certainty. Now I believe that I myself was almost as deeply pained as you men were; for to say ‘more pained’ would not be right nor proper for me, even if it were indeed true that one had loved him more than you, his father and his brother, did. [3] And yet the strength of natural affection does seem to be not very great in persons of the common sort. Something like this happened, I hear, in the case of our Opuntian friend here after he had lost a son, an agreeable and clever young man, who was also our companion; but nevertheless they tell me that he grieved less over his death than if he had lost anything else out of his house. You two, however, seem to be very much distressed by your affliction, and no wonder; for such a man as Charidemus certainly would speedily have turned out to be, would have been useful, not only to your city, but to all Hellas, if he had lived. I, for my part, never knew any young lad of higher spirit than he nor of better natural parts.
[4] Timarchus. Yes, and if you knew how he felt towards you, your praise would be much warmer. It seemed to me that he held you in more honour than he did even me, his father, not to mention other people, since in his illness and even when he was practically at death’s door, and we were at his bedside along with other relatives, fellow citizens and acquaintances, he kept mentioning you by name, although by then he could scarcely speak at all, and bade us say when we met you that he was thinking of you when he died. For he retained consciousness and the power to speak up to the very last. Furthermore, even when he was alive and well, he was so attached to you that he imitated you in his taciturnity, his gait, and in all other respects, as people who knew used to say.
[5] Dio. Oh no, he was not imitating in those matters either me or anybody else; but they were natural with him. Perhaps you did not notice it at first when he was still a child; then as he grew older, it became more marked. For a manly and dignified bearing came much more naturally to him than to anybody else. But I wonder if he pained you at all by these characteristics or appeared to you to be somewhat gloomy of countenance.
Tim. No, on the contrary, I thought that he was more cheerful than many and ready to play such games as were proper for free-born children, and always somehow ready to give a smile to people whom he knew; but I did not often see him laughing without restraint. So he caused us no worry; and what is more, he won the commendation of many people, and our fellow citizens had more respect for him, although he was only twenty-two years old — for that was his age when he died — than they had for those who were older and in the public eye.
[6] Dio. But did he give you any other commission or say anything else on his death-bed?
Tim. Yes, many remarkable things — at least, so I, his father, think. For, although he was departing from life at such an early age, so far was he from lamenting his fate or showing any grief that on the contrary he tried to comfort us. Then finally, he called the servant and dictated to him, like one inspired, an address for our consolation, so that I began to suspect that perhaps it was because his mind was now wandering on account of the nearness of death that he was doing this. Those who were at his bedside, though, praised it highly.
Dio. Pray, have you what he wrote?
[7] Tim. Yes, indeed.
Dio. Then are you willing to repeat it?
Tim. O yes, only ashamed for fear that it is not in proper shape, because it was spoken by a comparatively young man and at such a time. For I really thought that he would have been more careful in what he said, had you been the only one present, than he was with all the rest there.
Dio. It is no outsider that you will be reading to, my good friend; and, at the same time, it is not the style that I am anxious to observe so much as what his state of mind was as revealed by what he said, whether he was really of good cheer and courageous on his deathbed.
[8] Tim. Well, here it is:
The Dying Words of Charidemus
“What has happened to me has happened in accordance with God’s will; and we should not consider anything that he brings to pass as harsh, nor bear it with repining: so wise men advise us, and Homer not least when he says that the gifts of the gods to man should not be spurned by man — rightly calling the acts of the gods ‘gifts,’ as being all good and done for a good purpose. [9] As for me, this is my feeling, and I accept the decree of fate calmly, saying this, not at any ordinary time, but when that fate itself is present, and I see my end so near at hand. And do you, I pray, believe me, since I have had even greater concern for the truth than for you, and, so far as in you lies, do not give way to your grief, knowing that nothing terrible has befallen me; no, not even if one offers the explanation of death which is the most difficult to accept.
[10] This explanation I will now give to you, although it is very likely not at all cheering, nor pleasing — for I imagine it was not devised to please us — and it has something of the marvellous about it perhaps. It is to the effect that all we human beings are of the blood of the Titans. Then, because they were hateful to the gods and had waged war on them, we are not dear to them either, but are punished by them and have been born for chastisement, being, in truth, imprisoned in life for as long a time as we each live. And when any of us die, it means that we, having already been sufficiently chastised, are released and go our way.
[11] This place which we call the universe, they tell us, is a prison prepared by the gods, a grievous and ill-ventilated one, which never keeps the same temperature and condition of its air, but at one time is cold and frosty, and infected
with wind, mud, snow, and water, and at another time is hot and stifling; for just a very little time of the year it is endurable; it is visited by cyclones, typhoons occur, and sometimes the whole of it quakes to the very bottom. Now all these are terrible punishments. [12] For men are invariably dismayed and terrified by them whenever they occur. Then in addition to all this, because men cannot endure the bad air and changes of temperature, they devise for themselves other small prisons, namely, their houses and cities, which they construct of timber and stone, just as if a person should build other smaller enclosures inside of a large one.
And the plants which grow all about us and the fruits of the earth are created, they assure us, simply in order that we may serve out our time here. They are just like the unappetizing and wretched food which is given to prisoners, but we nevertheless put up with it on account of the necessity which is upon us and our helplessness. [13] For in the case of men who are being punished by us, whatever is furnished appears appetizing because they are hungry and used to it. These foods are in reality bad and spoiled, and that they are spoiled is shown by the frailty of our bodies. And, further, it is not even furnished us ready at hand, nor yet supplied in abundance to everyone, but must be won with intolerable toil and hardships.
Delphi Complete Works of Dio Chrysostom Page 37