Here again we have what professes to be the report of a conversation between Dio and one of his followers. The abruptness with which it begins and ends has led Arnim to conclude that Dio did not intend it to be published, at least not in its present form. He regards it as what might be termed a stenographic record, which in some way or other found its way into the hands of Dio’s editor.
The Sixty-seventh Discourse: On Popular Opinion
Interlocutor. Well, in what particular does it seem to you that the man of self-control, the philosopher, most especially is superior to us who constitute the majority of mankind and are moved by random impulse?
Dio. It seems to me, if one should express an opinion in such plain and unadorned terms, that he is superior in respect to truth and knowledge, not merely to the majority of mankind, but also to the very few, those who are regarded as favoured by fortune — the philosopher is, I mean.
Int. Indeed your statement is truly plain and unadorned.
Dio. Well, by Heaven, tell me this. You mean, do you not, that the philosopher is superior to all others in truth and in his examining each thing in the light of truth and not in accordance with opinion?
[2] Int. Why, my good sir, he would be using a poor straight-edge with which to gauge his problems, one altogether crooked, a straight-edge, by Zeus, with not just one bend but thousands, and all running counter to one another, if he tried to set things straight by means of opinion.
Dio. Well then, suppose that he views all else in the light of truth, never applying opinion as a gauge, because he believes this to be, in fact, a false and untrustworthy measuring-line, a straight-edge such as you have just described it, yet if he should measure himself with that kind of straight-edge and that kind of measuring-line, would he be acclaimed as worthy?
Int. No, by Heaven, not by any means.
Dio. Yes, it is plain that he could never come to know himself if he examined himself in that fashion.
Int. Why, of course he could not.
[3] Dio. Consequently he would no longer be obeying the Delphic injunction, which has prescribed that, above all, a man must know himself.
Int. Why, of course he would not be obeying it.
Dio. Then he will not know any of the other things either, since he does not know himself, nor will he be able to examine things in the light of truth, since he has failed with himself to begin with?
Int. Why, certainly.
Dio. Then he will bid farewell to honours and dishonours and to words of censure and of praise uttered by foolish persons, whether they chance to be many or whether they be few but powerful and wealthy. Instead, what is called popular opinion he will regard as no better than a shadow, seeing that sometimes the popular view makes much of small matters and little of great ones, and often concerning the same matters it is at one time greater and at another smaller.
Int. You seem to me to have made a very excellent comparison.
[4] Dio. Suppose, then, there should be a person so constituted as to live with an eye to his own shadow, with the result that as it grew he would become elated and boastful and not only offer a sacrifice of thanksgiving to the gods himself but also bid his friends to do so, while as his shadow diminished he would be grieved and show himself more humble, and the more so the smaller his shadow became, just as if he himself were wasting away, methinks he would afford wondrous amusement.
Int. Yes, he would be a much bigger booby than Margites, who did not know how to treat his wife once he had married her.
[5] Dio. Yes, for on the same day sometimes he would be sad and sometimes happy. For instance, early in the day, when he saw his shadow at dawn very long, almost larger than the cypresses or the towers on the city walls, manifestly he would be happy, supposing himself to have suddenly grown to the size of the sons of Aloeus, and he would go striding into the market-place and the theatres and everywhere in the city to be observed by one and all. However, about the middle of the morning he would begin to grow more sad of countenance than he had been and would go back home. Then at noon he would be ashamed to be seen by anybody and would stay indoors, locking himself up, when he saw his shadow at his feet; yet again, toward afternoon, he would begin to recover and would show himself ever more and more exultant toward evening.
[6] Int. You certainly seem to me to be fashioning a strange disposition and a foolish kind of man.
Dio. Well then, he who pays heed to popular opinion is not a bit better, but rather far more pathetic. For often he would undergo several changes on one and the same day, yet not, like the man I have imagined, at certain definite times, but, alike in the afternoon or in the early morning, nothing will keep him from being the most unfortunate of mortals, now being swept along and flying higher than the clouds, if it so happen that any have sent him forth under full sail and have praised him, now taking in his sails and abasing himself, his spirit experiencing, methinks, far more waxings and wanings than the moon. [7] Has he not, then, drawn a more wretched fate and a far more luckless lot than they say fell to Meleager, son of Althaea and Oeneus, whose span of life, men say, was in the keeping of a mere firebrand? So long as the brand blazed and the fire remained in it, just so long Meleager lived and throve, but as the brand lost its strength, he too wasted from grief and despondency, and when the fire went out he died and was gone.
THE SIXTY-EIGHTH DISCOURSE: ON OPINION
In this Discourse Dio once more approaches the subject of opinion as contrasted with knowledge. Here, however, he is stressing the practical utility of knowledge in one’s daily life and business pursuits, in other words, the impossibility of achieving success in any walk of life when led by mere opinion rather than by a clear understanding of the things to be avoided or attempted and of the reasons on which one’s choice should be based. Although some attention is paid to the unwisdom of following the opinion of one’s neighbours, the principal emphasis is laid upon the necessity in each instance of substituting knowledge for one’s own untutored opinions.
The Sixty-eighth Discourse: On Opinion
Most men in all their pursuits and interests follow them in utter ignorance of what the nature of each is or even what practical value each has; instead, they are drawn to them by opinion or pleasure or habit. Nor, on the other hand, in the case of those pursuits and interests from which they abstain and which they avoid engaging in, do they abstain because they know which are harmful or what is the nature of the harm which they entail; instead, in these matters too, whatever they observe that their neighbours avoid or things which it has become their custom to avoid or which they suppose will be unpleasant for themselves and are reputed to be accompanied by some pain, these things they generally view with misgiving.
[2] Moreover, while the sensations of pleasure and of pain are common to all men — though some are enslaved by them to a smaller and some to a greater degree — the matter of opinion varies and is not the same for all. Thus it happens that some praise or blame this and some that, frequently acting at variance in this regard. For example, pain is experienced by both the Indian and the Spartan when they are wounded or burnt, as well as by the Phrygian and the Lydian; yet while the Indian and the Spartan refuse to flinch because they have been hardened to it, the Phrygian and the Lydian do flinch, because they are weak and not hardened. Again, while pleasure inevitably is experienced in sexual relations and in food and drink which are pleasurable, not only by the Ionian but also by the Thessalian, the Italian Greek, the Getan, the Indian, and the Spartan, yet some give no thought at all to such gratifications and do not seek to know any of them in the least, while the others would accept death as the price of obtaining a little more pleasure.
[3] Now apparently the matter of opinion is of every conceivable kind and the differences to be found in this matter are very numerous and very great. And it is because of this fact that in no breed of animals would one find so great dissension, nor would one find any breed so at variance with itself — take, for example, horses or dogs or lions or cattle or deer; on
the contrary, animals that are alike behave alike in feeding, in begetting, and in rearing their young, and they have the same appetites and the same aversions. The reason is that in general they follow only what is pleasant and shun what is painful. [4] But the human race, which by nature partakes of wisdom, though it falls short of it through bad judgement and indifference, is inwardly full of opinion and self-deception. Moreover, men differ with one another in everything — in dress and apparel, in food and sexual pleasures, in honour and dishonour — according to nations and cities. And similarly also with the city, each one has his own individual ambition — one to obtain as much land as possible, another silver, another slaves, another all these things together, another to be admired for his eloquence and by this means to have greater power than his fellows, another strives merely to be clever and to achieve experience in politics, another to have influence for some other reason, another to indulge in luxury to the fullest extent.
[5] Now, as I was saying, in no one of these pursuits, in all likelihood, would even those who are reputed to be best in their line carry it on successfully. For, not knowing what is better or what is worse or what is advantageous, they exercise no choice at all. But he who has desired wisdom and has given thought to how he should look after himself and what education he should receive in order to become a good man and superior to the masses, he, I say, has been blest with a good character and with a corresponding fortune besides. For there is hope that, if he investigates and receives instruction, he will discover what is required and with what aim and purpose he should carry on and regulate all else.
[6] But he who understands this would from that moment be successful in all things, both those which are thought to be more important and those which are thought to be less; and whether he were to follow horse-racing or to devote himself to music or to agriculture, or if he should wish to be a general or to hold the other offices or to conduct the other public business in his city, he will do everything well and would make no mistakes in anything. However, without this understanding, while in each of his labours he might sometimes seem both to himself and to his neighbours to be successful — for instance, if as a farmer he were to be fortunate with his crops, or if he were to have more than ordinary acquaintance with the handling of horses, or if he were to have fairly good knowledge of music, or if in athletic contests he could overcome his competitors — still on the whole he would fail, since he would be working at these things to no good end nor in such a way as to derive benefit.
[7] Therefore he is incapable of being prosperous, just as one cannot make a successful voyage if one does not know whither he is sailing, being carried along aimlessly on the sea, his ship at one moment sailing a straight course, should fortune so decree, but the next moment yawing, at one moment with the wind astern, the next with it dead ahead. Nay, just as with the lyre musicians first set the middle string and then tune the others to harmonize with that — otherwise they will never achieve any harmony at all — so with life, men should first come to understand best and then, having made this their goal, they should do everything else with reference to this; otherwise their life will be out of harmony and out of tune in all likelihood.
THE SIXTY-NINTH DISCOURSE: ON VIRTUE
The theme of this Discourse is the doctrine that the virtuous life is the happy life. Dio bemoans the fact that most men give their whole attention to the so-called practical pursuits to the neglect of their spiritual well-being and development. Striving to attain success in any number of material enterprises, they miss true happiness through their failure to see that character is its sure foundation. Without good character laws are of little avail, and happiness is the gift of the gods, who are not inclined to favour ignorance and inattention to the needs of the soul. It is interesting to find Dio here expressing the belief that those who would commit a crime but are prevented from so doing through fear are as guilty as those who actually yield to the temptation.
The Sixty-ninth Discourse: On Virtue
It seems to me a fact hard to explain, that people praise and admire one set of things yet aim at and have seriously pursued a different set. For instance, virtually all praise and refer to as “divine” and “august” such things as valour and righteousness and wisdom and, in short, every virtue. Moreover, whomever they believe to be, or to have been, characterized by such virtues, or nearly so, him they admire and celebrate in song; and certain ones they represent as gods and others as heroes — for example, Heracles, the Dioscuri, Theseus, Achilles, and all the demigods, as they are called. And whomever they suppose to be like those beings they one and all are ready to obey and to serve, no matter what orders he may give, and they are ready to appoint as their king and ruler and to make the guardian of their possessions any man whom they suppose to be really prudent and righteous and wise and, in a word, a good man.
[2] Therefore in this respect no one could censure them as not perceiving that virtue is something august and precious and all-important; yet they really desire any and every thing in preference to becoming good, and they busy themselves with everything in preference to the problem of becoming self-controlled and wise and righteous and men of merit, competent to govern themselves well, to manage a household well, to rule a city well, to endure well either wealth or poverty, to behave well toward friends and kinsmen, to care for parents with equity, and to serve gods with piety. [3] But some busy themselves with farming, some with trading, some are devoted to military affairs, some to the medical profession, some acquire a thorough knowledge of carpentry or of shipbuilding, some of playing the lyre or the flute or of shoemaking or wrestling, some devote their whole attention to gaining a reputation as clever speakers in Assembly or in law-court, some to becoming strong in body. And yet the traders, farmers, soldiers, physicians, builders, lyre-players, flautists, athletic trainers, yes, and the orators, as they are called, and those who have great strength of body — all these one would find to be pitiable and unfortunate in many, or indeed in almost all, instances.
[4] On the other hand, if their soul becomes rational and their mind really good, and if they are able to manage successfully their own affairs and those of their neighbours too, these men will necessarily also lead happy lives, having shown themselves to be law-abiding, having obtained a good genius to guard them, and being dear to the gods. For it does not stand to reason that one set of men are wise and another set versed in human affairs, nor yet that some are conversant with human affairs and some with affairs divine, nor that some men have knowledge of divine things and others are pious, nor that some are pious and others dear to the gods; nor will a separate group be dear to the gods and another group be favoured by fortune. Nor is there one class of men who are fools but another class ignorant of their own affairs; nor are those who are ignorant of their own affairs informed about things divine; nor are those who have formed mistaken opinions about things divine free from impiety. And surely those who are impious cannot be dear to the gods nor those who are not dear to the gods be other than unfortunate.
Why in the world, then, do not those who aim to attain a happy life do their best to make themselves happy instead of devoting their entire attention to things which do not at all prevent their leading a bad, yes wretched, existence? [5] Yet without flute-players and lyre-players and shoemakers and athletic trainers and orators and physicians it is not impossible for men to live very good and ordered lives, and, I fancy, even without farmers and builders. [6] At any rate the Scythians who are nomads, though they neither have houses nor sow seed nor plant trees and vines, are by no means prevented from playing their part as citizens with justice and in accordance with law; yet without law and justice men cannot avoid living badly and in much more savage fashion than the wild beasts. Moreover, where shoemakers and farmers and builders are of inferior quality, no serious harm results on that account; it is merely that the shoes are inferior and the wheat and barley scarcer. On the other hand, where rulers and judges and laws are inferior, the affairs of those people are
in worse condition and their life is more unfortunate, and factions, injustices, deeds of arrogance, and impiety flourish in abundance with them.
[7] Furthermore, though when one is not himself a shoemaker it is profitable to purchase shoes from another person, and when one does not understand building, to hire another person for that work, and when one is not a farmer, to purchase grain and pulse; on the other hand, when one is himself unjust, it is not profitable to get his justice from another, nor, when one lacks wisdom and does not know what he ought to do and what he ought to refrain from doing, to be constantly regretting every single act and resorting for knowledge to another person. For, in addition to all the other considerations, he who needs money or clothing or house or anything else not only knows that fact but also seeks to get these things from those who have them; whereas he who has no sense does not even know just this very fact, that he has no sense; instead, he himself claims to be competent and obstinately persists in his folly, everything he does or says being witless, and he denies that he is unjust or foolish or lawless but insists that is ever so competent in these matters, though he has never paid any attention to them or learned anything as far as those things are concerned.
[8] In fact, these men do not even believe in the existence of a knowledge in accordance with which they will know what they ought to do or what they ought not to do and how they will live correctly; nay, they believe that the laws are sufficient for them for that purpose, the laws on the statute books; but how they are to obey the laws and voluntarily do what those laws prescribe is a matter to which they give no serious thought. And yet how is he any less a thief who refrains from thieving out of fear, if he approves but does not loath and condemn the business, than those who actually commit theft — unless also he who does not do his thieving by day, not only after nightfall, is to be called no thief in daytime, but rather a man of probity? Besides, such persons require the presence of many to threaten and restrain them, since they are not able of themselves to refrain from their misdeeds, but even when at home are men of thievish disposition. However, though they are of such character, they choose the law-givers and punish the lawless, just as if persons who are unmusical were to choose the musicians, or as if those who know nothing of surveying were to choose the surveyors!
Delphi Complete Works of Dio Chrysostom Page 79