Delphi Complete Works of Dio Chrysostom

by Dio Chrysostom

  The Twelfth or Olympic Discourse: or, On Man’s First Conception of God

  Can it be, Sirs, that here before you, just as before many another audience — to use a familiar saying — I have met with the strange and inexplicable experience of the owl? For though she is no whit wiser than the other birds nor more beautiful in appearance, but on the contrary only what we know her to be, yet whenever she utters her mournful and far from pleasing note, they all flock to her — yes, and even when they merely see her, the reason being, as it seems to me, that they look with scorn upon her insignificance and weakness; and yet people in general say that the birds admire the owl.

  [2] πῶς δὲ οὐ τὸν ταῶ μᾶλλον ὁρῶντα θαυμάζει, καλὸν οὕτω καὶ ποικίλον, ἔτι δὲ αὐτὸν ἐπαιρόμενον καὶ ἐπιδεικνύντα τὸ κάλλος τῶν πτερῶν, ὅταν ἁβρύνηται πρὸς τὴν θήλειαν, ἀνακλάσας τὴν οὐρὰν καὶ περιστήσας αὑτῷ πανταχόθεν ὥσπερ εὐειδὲς ἄντρον ἤ τινα γραφῇ μιμηθέντα οὐρανὸν ποικίλον ἄστροις, σύν γε τῷ λοιπῷ σώματι θαυμαστόν, ἐγγύτατα χρυσοῦ κυάνῳ κεκραμένου, καὶ δὴ ἐν ἄκροις τοῖς πτεροῖς οἷον ὀφθαλμῶν ἐνόντων ἤ τινων δακτυλίων τό τε σχῆμα καὶ κατὰ τὴν ἄλλην ὁμοιότητα;

  [2] Surely, however, the birds ought rather to admire the peacock when they see him, beautiful and many-coloured as he is, and then again truly when he lifts himself up in pride and shows the beauty of his plumage, as he struts before his hen with his tail spread out and arched all about him like a fair-shaped theatre or some picture of the heavens studded with stars — a figure well deserving of admiration for the colouring also, which is nearest to gold blended with dark blue; and then too on the tips of his feathers there are eyes, as it were, or markings like rings both in shape and in their general similitude.

  [3] εἰ δ᾽ αὖ τις ἐθέλοι σκοπεῖν τῆς πτερώσεως τὸ κοῦφον, ὡς μὴ χαλεπὸν εἶναι μηδὲ δύσφορον διὰ τὸ μῆκος, ἐν μέσῳ μάλα ἥσυχον καὶ ἀτρεμοῦντα παρέχει θεάσασθαι ἑαυτόν, ὥσπερ ἐν πομπῇ περιστρεφόμενος, ὅταν δὲ βουληθῇ ἐκπλῆξαι, σείων τὰ πτερὰ καί τινα ἦχον οὐκ ἀηδῆ ποιῶν, οἷον ἀνέμου κινήσαντος οὐ πολλοῦ πυκνήν τινα ὕλην. ἀλλ᾽ οὔτε τὸν ταῶ πάντα ταῦτα καλλωπιζόμενον τὰ ὄρνεα βούλεται ὁρᾶν οὔτε τῆς ἀηδόνος ἀκούοντα τῆς φωνῆς ἕωθεν ἐπορθρευομένης οὐδὲν πάσχει πρὸς αὐτήν,

  [3] And, if you want something further, observe the lightness of his plumage, so light indeed that it is not an encumbrance nor hard to carry on account of its length. In the centre of it he offers himself to the spectator’s gaze, quite calm and unconcerned, turning himself this way and that as if on parade; and when he wishes really to astound us, he rustles his feathers and makes a sound not unpleasing, as of a light breeze stirring some thick wood.

  But it is not the peacock with all this fine display that the birds want to see, nor when they hear the song of the nightingale as she rises at early dawn are they at all affected by her —

  [4] ἀλλ᾽ οὐδὲ τὸν κύκνον ἀσπάζεται [p. 156] διὰ τὴν μουσικήν, οὐδὲ ὅταν ὑμνῇ τὴν ὑστάτην ᾠδήν ἅτε εὐγήρως, ὑπὸ ἡδονῆς τε καὶ λήθης τῶν ἐν τῷ βίῳ χαλεπῶν εὐφημῶν ἅμα καὶ προπέμπων ἀλύπως αὑτόν, ὡς ἔοικε, πρὸς ἄλυπον τὸν θάνατον: οὔκουν οὐδὲ τότε ἀθροίζεται κηλούμενα τοῖς μέλεσι πρὸς ὄχθην ποταμοῦ τινος ἢ λειμῶνα πλατὺν ἢ καθαρὰν ᾐόνα λίμνης

  [4] nay, not even the swan do they greet on account of its music, not even when in the fullness of years it sings its last song, and through joy, and because it has forgotten the troubles of life, utters its triumphant notes and at the same time without sorrow conducts itself, as it seems, to a sorrowless death — even then, I say, the birds are not so charmed by its strains that they gather on some river’s bank or on a broad mead or the clean strand of a mere, or on some tiny green islet in a river.

  [5] ἤ τινα σμικρὰν εὐθαλῆ ποταμίαν νησῖδα. ὡς δὲ καὶ ὑμεῖς τοσαῦτα μὲν θεάματα ἔχοντες τερπνά, τοσαῦτα δὲ ἀκούσματα, τοῦτο μὲν ῥήτορας δεινούς, τοῦτο δὲ ξυγγραφέας ἠδίστους ἐμμέτρων καὶ ἀμέτρων λόγων, τοῦτο δὲ ταῶς ποικίλους, τοῦτο δὲ ὡς πολλοὺς σοφιστάς, δόξῃ καὶ μαθηταῖς ἐπαιρομένους οἷον πτεροῖς, ὑμεῖς δὲ ἐμοὶ πρόσιτε καὶ βούλεσθε ἀκούειν, τοῦ μηδὲν εἰδότος μηδὲ φάσκοντος εἰδέναι, ἆρ᾽ οὐκ ὀρθῶς ἀπεικάζω τὴν σπουδὴν ὑμῶν τῷ περὶ τὴν γλαῦκα γιγνομένῳ σχεδὸν οὐκ ἄνευ δαιμονίας τινὸς βουλήσεως;

  [5] And since you likewise, though having so many delightful spectacles to behold, and so many things to hear — able orators, most charming writers of both verse and prose, and finally, like gorgeous peacocks, sophists in great numbers, men who are lifted aloft as on wings by their fame and disciples — since you, I say, despite all these attractions, draw near and wish to listen to me, a man who knows nothing and makes no claim to knowing, am I not right in likening your interest to that which the birds take in the owl, one might almost say not without some divine purpose?

  [6] ὑφ᾽ ἧς καὶ τῇ Ἀθηνᾷ λέγεται προσφιλὲς εἶναι τὸ ὄρνεον, τῇ καλλίστῃ τῶν θεῶν καὶ σοφωτάτῃ, καὶ τῆς γε Φειδίου τέχνης παρὰ Ἀθηναίοισἔτυχεν, οὐκ ἀπαξιώσαντος αὐτὴν συγκαθιδρῦσαι τῇ θεῷ, συνδοκοῦν τῷ δήμῳ. Περικλέα δὲ καὶ αὑτὸν λαθὼν ἐποίησεν, ὥς φασιν, ἐπὶ τῆς ἀσπίδος. οὐ μέντοι ταῦτά γε εὐτυχήματα νομίζειν ἔπεισί μοι τῆς γλαυκός, εἰ μή τινα φρόνησιν ἄρα κέκτηται πλείω.

  [6] This purpose is seen in men’s belief that this bird is beloved of Athenê also, the fairest of the gods and the wisest, and indeed at Athens it was honoured by the art of Pheidias, who did not count the owl unworthy to share a dedication with the goddess, the popular assembly approving; but Pericles and his own self he depicted covertly, so we are told, on the shield of the goddess.

  However, it does not occur to me to regard all this as good fortune on the part of the owl, unless she really does in fact possess some superior sagacity.

  [7] ὅθεν οἶμαι καὶ τὸν μῦθον Αἴσωπος ξυνέστησεν ὅτι σοφὴοὖσα ξυνεβούλευε τοῖς ὀρνέοις τῆς δρυὸς ἐν ἀρχῇ φυομένης μὴ ἐᾶσαι, ἀλλ᾽ ἀνελεῖν πάντα τρόπον: ἔσεσθαι γὰρ φάρμακον ἀπ᾽ αὐτῆς ἄφυκτον, ὑφ᾽ οὗ ἁλώσονται, τὸν ἰξόν. πάλιν δὲ τὸ λίνον τῶν ἀνθρώπων σπειρόντων, ἐκέλευε καὶ τοῦτο ἐκλέγειν τὸ σπέρμα:

  [7] And this, I imagine, is the reason why Aesop composed the fable in which he represents her as being wise and as advising the birds, when the first oak tree began to grow, not to let it happen, but by all means to destroy the plant; for, she explained, the tree would produce a drug from which none might escape, the bir
d-lime, and they would be caught by it. Again, when men were sowing flax, she bade them pick up this seed also, since if it grew, no good would come of it.

  [8] μὴ γὰρ ἐπ᾽ ἀγαθῷ φυήσεσθαι. τρίτον δὲ ἰδοῦσα τοξευτήν τιναἄνδρα προέλεγεν ὅτι οὗτος ὁ ἀνὴρ φθάσει ὑμᾶς τοῖς ὑμετέροις πτεροῖς, πεζὸς ὢν αὐτὸς πτηνὰ ἐπιπέμπων βέλη. τὰ δὲ ἠπίστει τοῖς λόγοις καὶ ἀνόητον αὐτὴν ἡγοῦντο καὶ μαίνεσθαι ἔφασκον: ὕστερον δὲ πειρώμενα ἐθαύμαζε καὶ τῷ ὄντι σοφωτάτην ἐνόμιζεν. [p. 157] καὶ διὰ τοῦτο, ἐπὰν φανῇ, πρόσεισιν ὡς πρὸς ἅπαντα ἐπισταμένην:

  [8] And in the third place, when she saw a man armed with a bow, she prophesied, saying: “Yonder man will outstrip you with the help of your own feathers, for though he is on foot himself, he will send feathered shafts after you.”

  But the other birds mistrusted her words of warning. They considered her foolish, and said she was mad; but afterwards through experience they came to admire her and to consider her in very truth exceedingly wise. And that is the reason why, whenever she shows herself, they draw near to her as to one possessing all knowledge; but as for her, she no longer gives them advice, but merely laments.

  [9] ἡ δὲ συμβουλεύει μὲν αὐτοῖς οὐδὲν ἔτι, ὀδύρεται δὲ μόνον. ἴσως οὖν παρειλήφατε ὑμεῖς λόγον τινὰ ἀληθῆ καὶ ξυμβουλὴν συμφέρουσαν, ἥντινα ξυνεβούλευσε φιλοσοφία τοῖς πρότερον Ἕλλησιν, ἣν οἱ τότε μὲν ἠγνόησαν καὶ ἠτίμασαν, οἱ δὲ νῦν ὑπομιμνήσκονται καί μοι προσίασι διὰ τὸ σχῆμα, φιλοσοφίαν τιμῶντες ὥσπερ τὴν γλαῦκα ἄφωνον τό γε ἀληθὲς καὶ ἀπαρρησίαστον οὖσαν. ἐγὼ μὲν γὰρ οὐδὲν αὑτῷ ξύνοιδα οὔτε πρότερον εἰπόντι σπουδῆς ἄξιον οὔτε νῦν ἐπισταμένῳ πλέον ὑμῶν.

  [9] So perhaps there has been delivered unto you some true word and salutary counsel, which Philosophy gave to the Greeks of old, but the men of that time comprehended it not and despised it; whereas those of the present day, recalling it, draw near to me on account of my appearance, thus honouring Philosophy as the birds honour the owl, although it is in reality voiceless and reticent of speech. For I am quite well aware that I have not hitherto said anything worthy of consideration, and that now I have no knowledge superior to your own.

  [10] ἀλλὰ εἰσὶν ἕτεροι σοφοὶ καὶ μακάριοι παντελῶς ἄνδρες, οὓς ὑμῖν ἐγώ, εἰ βούλεσθε, μηνύσω, ἕκαστον ὀνομαστὶ δεικνύμενος. καὶ γὰρ νὴ Δία τοῦτο μόνον οἶμαι χρήσιμον ἔχειν, τὸ γιγνώσκειν τοὺς σοφούς τε καὶ δεινοὺς καὶ πάντα ἐπισταμένους: οἷς ἐὰν ὑμεῖς ἐθέλητε ξυνεῖναι τἄλλα ἐάσαντες, καὶ γονεῖς καὶ πατρίδας καὶ θεῶν ἱερὰ καὶ προγόνων τάφους, ἐκείνοις ξυνακολουθοῦντες, ἔνθα ἂν ἄγωσιν ἢ καὶ μένοντές που καθιδρύωσιν, εἴτε εἰς τὴν Βαβυλῶνα ἐν τῇ Νίνου καὶ Σεμιράμιδος εἴτε ἐν Βάκτροις ἢ Σούσοις ἢ Παλιβόθροις ἢ ἄλλῃ τινὶ πόλει τῶν ἐνδόξων καὶ πλουσίων, χρήματα διδόντες ἢ καὶ ἄλλῳ τρόπῳ πείθοντες, εὐδαιμονέστεροι ἔσεσθε αὐτῆς τῆς εὐδαιμονίας.

  [10] But there are other men who are wise and altogether blessed; and if you wish, I shall make them known to you, mentioning each one by name. For indeed this alone I consider to be profitable — to know the men who are wise and able and omniscient. To such if you are willing to cleave, neglecting all other things — both parents and the land of your birth, the shrines of the gods, and the tombs of your forefathers — following wherever they lead, or remaining wherever they establish themselves — whether in the Babylon of Ninus and Semiramis, or in Bactra, or Sousa, or Palibothra, or in some other famous and wealthy city — giving them money or in some other way winning their favour, you will become happier than happiness itself.

  [11] εἰ δ᾽ αὐτοὶ μὴ βούλεσθε, καταμεμφόμενοι τὴν αὑτῶν φύσιν ἢ πενίαν ἢ γῆρας ἢ ἀσθένειαν, ἀλλὰ τοῖς γε υἱέσι μὴ φθονοῦντες μηδὲ ἀφαιρούμενοι τῶν μεγίστων ἀγαθῶν, ἑκοῦσί τε ἐπιτρέποντες καὶ ἄκοντας πείθοντες ἢ βιαζόμενοι πάντα τρόπον, ὡς ἂν παιδευθέντες ἱκανῶς καὶ γενόμενοι σοφοὶ παρὰ πᾶσιν Ἕλλησι καὶ βαρβάροις ὀνομαστοὶ ὦσι τὸ λοιπόν, διαφέροντες ἀρετῇ καὶ δόξῃ καὶ πλούτῳ καὶ δυνάμει τῇ πάσῃ σχεδόν. οὐ γὰρ μόνον πλούτῳ φασὶν ἀρετὴν καὶ κῦδος ὀπηδεῖν,

  [11] But if you not willing to do this yourselves, mistrusting your own natural ability, or pleading poverty or age or lack of physical strength, you will at least not begrudge your sons this boon nor deprive them of the greatest blessings, but will entrust them to these teachers if they are willing to receive them; and if they are unwilling, you will persuade them or compel them by any and all means, to the end that your sons, having been properly educated and having grown wise, may thenceforth be renowned among all Greeks and barbarians, being pre-eminent in virtue and reputation and wealth and in almost every kind of power. For not only do virtue and renown attend upon wealth, as we are told, but wealth likewise and of necessity accompanies virtue.

  [12] ἀλλὰ καὶ πλοῦτος ἀρετῇ συνέπεται ἐξ ἀνάγκης. ταῦτα δὲ ὑμῖν ἐναντίον τοῦδε τοῦ θεοῦ προλέγω καὶ ξυμβουλεύω δι᾽ εὔνοιαν καὶ φιλίαν [p. 158] προαγόμενος. οἶμαι δὲ ἐμαυτὸν ἂν πρῶτον πείθειν καὶ παρακαλεῖν, εἴ μοι τὰ τοῦ σώματος καὶ τὰ τῆς ἡλικίας ἐπεδέχετο: ἀλλὰ γὰρ ἀνάγκη διὰ τὸ κακοπαθεῖν, εἴ πού τι δυνησόμεθα εὑρέσθαι παρὰ τῶν παλαιῶν ἀνδρῶν ὥσπερ ἀπερριμμένον ἤδη καὶ ἕωλον σοφίας λείψανον χήτει τῶν κρειττόνων τε καὶ ζώντων διδασκάλων.ἐρῶ δὲ ὑμῖν καὶ ἄλλο, ὃ πέπονθα τῇ γλαυκὶ παραπλήσιον, ἐὰν καὶ

  [12] This is the prophecy and counsel that I give you in the presence of yonder god, moved by a spirit of goodwill and friendship toward you. And I suppose that it would be my duty to urge and exhort myself first of all, if only the state of my health and my advanced age permitted, but the fact is that, on account of the infirmities which afflict me, I am under the necessity, if perchance I shall find it in any way possible, of discovering some bit of wisdom which has already been from the ancients cast aside as it were, and had grown stale for lack of teachers who are both better and still living.

  And I shall tell you of another respect too in which I am like the owl, even if you are ready to laugh at my words.

  [13] βούλησθε καταγελᾶν τῶν λόγων. ὥσπερ γὰρ ἐκείνη αὐτὴ μὲν οὐδὲν χρῆται τοῖς προσπετομένοις, ἀνδρὶ δὲ ὀρνιθοθήρᾳ πάντων λυσιτελέστατόν ἐστι κτημάτων: οὐδὲν γὰρ δεῖ οὔτε τροφὴν προβάλλειν οὔτε φωνὴν μιμεῖσθαι, μόνον δ᾽ �
��πιδεικνύντα τὴν γλαῦκα πολὺπλῆθος ἔχειν ὀρνέων: οὕτω κἀμοὶ τῆς σπουδῆς τῶν πολλῶν οὐδὲν ὄφελος. οὐ γὰρ λαμβάνω μαθητάς, εἰδὼς ὅτι οὐδὲν ἂν ἔχοιμι διδάσκειν, ἅτε οὐδ᾽ αὐτὸς ἐπιστάμενος: ὡς δὲ ψεύδεσθαι καὶ ἐξαπατᾶν ὑπισχνούμενος, οὐκ ἔχω ταύτην τὴν ἀνδρείαν: σοφιστῇ δὲ ἀνδρὶ ξυνὼν μεγάλα ἂν ὠφέλουν ὄχλον πολὺν ἀθροίζων πρὸσαὑτόν, ἔπειτα ἐκείνῳ παρέχων ὅπως βούλεται διαθέσθαι τὴν ἄγραν. ἀλλ᾽ οὐκ οἶδα ὅπως οὐδείς με ἀναλαμβάνει τῶν σοφιστῶν οὐδὲ ἥδονται ὁρῶντες.

  [13] For just as that bird makes no use herself of the others that fly to her side, but to the fowler is the most useful of all possessions — since he has no need to throw out feed or mimic a call, but merely to show the owl and then have a great multitude of birds — so I too have nothing to gain by the interest of the many. For I do not take disciples, since I know there is nothing I should be able to teach them, seeing that I know nothing myself; but to lie and deceive by my promises, I have not the courage for that. But if I associated myself with a professional sophist, I should help him greatly by gathering a great crowd to him and then allowing him to dispose of the catch as he wished. However, for some reason or other, not one of the sophists is willing to take me on, nor can they bear the sight of me.