Orationes 12

80. Aristides to the Council and the People of the Cotiaeans, greeting.

It would have been fitting that men should come to you even from all Greece to mourn together over such a calamity and to do honour to a man who was so far the first among the Greeks; and so I, in sending this and ranking myself among those who count what has happened as their own concern, do not think I am being officious. For of all the names that are reckoned among men as noble and honourable, that give pleasure to the young and command reverence in the old, the man left none of them lacking to me. But having been reared under him and educated by him, and having afterward shared with eagerness in all that fortune offered, I could call him nurturer, teacher, father, companion, everything. And the greatest thing between us toward each other was that we were able to think alike of each other: I taking pride in him as my teacher, and he 81. reckoning what concerned us as part of his own glory. So long, then, as it was possible to send to him, I did so, and we had a not unmusical pastime in discourse by way of letters. But since it is no longer possible to converse with him, and he has not received in his hands — those hands most dear to me — even what I recently happened to send, it remained for me to dispatch to you the hearth of his city, setting it in his place. For thus I thought to honour Alexander with a double honour: at once recalling what was fitting about him, and at the same time making you my own through him; and to do you a doubly gracious thing — both showing confidence in you publicly, and commemorating a man of whom you make the greatest account; and not you alone, I think, but all who in any way belong to the Greeks. Yet it falls out for me that in memory I reach all his noble qualities, but in speech I am at a loss how to go through them. For everything comes upon me all at once, which it is impossible to recount one by one, and there seems to me no occasion even to begin to attempt it; while if I should speak of part, I fear I may be better keeping silent. For he, first and foremost of all men, changed the manner of bestowing praises. For so far was he from gaining repute through community of race, as though taking refuge in a nation or a city, that — though indeed your race is the most ancient, and within the common race of the Phrygians your city again, as they say, is the most ancient — he, on the contrary, conferred his own renown upon both the city and the whole race, and it is no small boast for all of you, before the Greeks, to be his fellow-citizens. He is said to have used the best teachers, but he plainly surpassed them as much as he surpassed all children. Coming, by the times of his life, into contact with all the most renowned men, of the oldest he was the pupil, and of all those after them he became the teacher of some and the fellow-worker of others. And what manner of men he produced others will tell; but among those whom he helped to educate 82. there was none greater than he. And indeed others, reaching for the great, pass by the small; but he, beginning from the smallest things, went on as far as the most perfect, just as they say it is lawful to be initiated first into the lesser mysteries. Others have searched out the traces and the first beginnings for a long time — or rather have worn out their lives in these — but the things for the sake of which it is worth discovering these some did not see at all, and others, it seems, did not attain; whereas he, as it were searched out a road from beginning to end, nowhere passing over anything worthy of leisure and of any consideration whatever. And so he became to the Greeks like a common treasury: for whatever anyone needed of the things that pertain to education, he could take from him, as if drawing from springs. But the greatest of his qualities, and most worthy to be noted, which indeed I once said to him myself in conversation — for, having gone through all the branches of learning, as I say, and being in nothing less exact than those who sit specially over each one, he neither inscribed upon himself the most pompous of titles, but remained with the old one, nor did he deprive others of their occupations, but was plainly cooperating with each and always increasing them, so far as he could. For indeed the rest become greater through their arts, but he made the very art itself greater by the part he contributed from himself; for he raised it from many sides, so that it took its form from him. For others it is enough to surpass their contemporaries; but he plainly held the first place in the whole art simply. For of the others who were appointed to education here, some were reputed to have good judgement but had no voice; others reached the point of speaking, but had not had much converse with knowledge; others again practiced wide learning, but by this very thing were blinded toward the better things and let go the best — all these things one man took together and possessed. And indeed, that a man with such a voice should not withdraw into composition and that sort of stance, but should choose the service of the ancient Greeks — how is this not 83. like his ungrudging and unsparing way with his pupils? Therefore he both at once filled them with learning, and for all whom he saw in need of livelihood he provided introductions and posts for them; so that this one man plainly educated and sent forth the most pupils of all, and became exactly to the Greeks in the place of a founder.

One may infer his case also from the mother-cities. For he settled different men in different parts of the earth, for the benefit both of those very men and of those who made use of them. And he alone refuted by deed the falsehood that Hesiod uttered when he made the verse that "even singer is jealous of singer." For he was, as it were, a common father to those of his own craft, and all had more hopes resting on him than each had on himself. And he alone neither put private men to shame, and was admired among the clever in the first rank. And he alone conquered both by the multitude and by the exactness of his witnesses. And it was a point of ambition among those concerned with letters to have been associated with him, and among others distinguished and brilliant, to be seen using his acquaintance instead of any other means of distinction. So that he was welcome to all, and whenever he was not engaged publicly, he would either be with the rulers, or in the very house of the Emperor. And indeed he made his sojourns with the Emperors as though following a kind of road: for having held the first place throughout the whole Greek world, and having given countless proof of himself, he thus came also to the courts and to the ears of the Emperor. And from this, one after another took him over and held him, instead of some other ornament of royalty. Coming, then, into so great authority and power that he held the place of a foster-father, not only of a teacher, of the children, it is no light task to recount how much general temperance and propriety he displayed. And he did the very same thing as in his ancient occupations. For in his occupations he is said never to have been the cause of anything disagreeable to anyone of all men, but always of some good, both to the pupils themselves and to their attendants. For indeed they were set free 84. and obtained other honours. Alexander, indeed, became the cause of good to the most men of all: chiefly, I think, by presenting the children to each in such a state that even those who accompanied them and shared in entrance to his presence won repute with those who had put them in charge; and next by himself openly asking for such favours instead of the customary ones for others.

And much the same in the affairs of the court. For he never grieved anyone, but lived his life working some good for his kinsmen and friends and fatherland and cities. And having done countless benefits to countless men, he never asked any reward for the benefit; for his art, however, he was not ashamed to take pay. For it seemed to him profitable that the young should venture to spend for the sake of learning — those, that is, who were able; for he did not trouble those who were unable, but we know of his even adding from his own means. He was not, then, so beneficial in his art and his lessons, but inferior to others in matters of action and public life. You would know this best, and I myself learn it from some of you, that he restored almost your whole city anew. So little was his work a mere matter of words; but what is worth more than buildings — his temperance and justice, leading all that he thought fit to say and do, and the fact that he nowhere overstepped what was needed, but that the honours he procured for you were sensible. Nor in this was he generous for nothing: rather, the greatest of your ornaments are a sign of his magnanimity. And I think that even if he had never spent anything upon you, yet from the rest of what he said and did on your behalf he would reasonably be considered a benefactor. And again, if he had said and done nothing else, but had contributed so much from his own resources, he would reasonably stand among the first in repute. And indeed, if he had been useful to you publicly neither in money nor in other things, the mere fact of his coming into such rank among 85. the Greeks would reasonably have given you a point of pride; for his glory has become common to the city. For it is a great thing for both a city and a nation to furnish one man as the first. And you, beyond others, reaped the benefit of his fortune. For with no man of all was his fatherland so named. But as others are recognized by their father's name or by other circumstances, so he was at once heard of together with his city. For even in the books which he corrected this token has been left behind; for to "Alexander" was appended his fatherland. So that as often as anyone mentions him, so often are you held in honour. And your city has been established in the rank of a mother-city to ancient Greece. In return for which you justly adorn his tomb, and honour the man with all things as your first leader and founder, and decree to him what you decree to the first founders of your city. For these things have somewhat consoled me, hearing them, as far as concerns the calamity, and on account of them chiefly I was moved to write, admiring your resolve. For it would be shameful if the Amphipolitans thought fit to sacrifice to Brasidas as to a hero and founder because he made them revolt from the Athenians, while you should fail to honour, in the rank of a first leader, the man who joined you to all the Greeks, who never became the cause of anything disagreeable to anyone, and who continued benefiting all both in word and in deed, beginning from you his fatherland — a man common to the Greeks, as I say.

And indeed, if to have furnished Homer to the Smyrnaeans, and Archilochus to the Parians, and Hesiod to the Boeotians, and Simonides to the Ceans, and Stesichorus to the men of Himera, and Pindar to the Thebans, and Sappho and Alcaeus to the Mytilenaeans, and to others others — for I leave Athens aside now — if all this brings a point of pride, then surely it is reasonable that you too should be greatly proud of the man who adorned and displayed all these. For I think that if some god had granted them resurrection while he yet lived, they would all 86. have gathered together in one place all those of their craft, and bidden them learn from him what they ought to think and say about themselves. And I for my part laughed at those who set Plato in front and philosophize about him alone, while he, more than any other, gratified my own judgement concerning Plato. And so far did he surpass the rest — poets, prose-writers, all the flowers that, as they say, the seasons bring forth. And indeed it is likely that this neither escapes you nor will escape those who come after — that, while the things he wrote and left behind are noble and better than those of all his kind, yet they are some small images of his education and judgement. So far did he surpass in his lessons that to me the very thought of Plato presents itself, that the things in writings seem child's play compared with the very converse of wise men; so that let no one ever suppose he will see the whole Alexander from these — although in this respect too the example of the Homeric composition suffices, that there is in it ornament in many ways. And it seems to me that the work of Aesop too was something elegant and wise, yet child's play compared with Alexander's learning; for in proportion as the wise things of Aesop were but a small part of Alexander's, in such proportion the earth brought forth for you the second things better than the first. And this too is wonderful. For to him alone the divine power plainly measured out everything evenly: a body most beautiful and strongest and healthiest and most venerable. To my judgement, at any rate, no one was so fair and beautiful as he in the recess of old age. And a soul most gentle and possessing the nature of every noble thing; education to excess, and glory according to his deserts, and honours from private men and from kings alike, each according to their rank; and an inheritance of his house ever advancing, and toils with ease, and the longest bounds of life, and, so to speak, every form of prayer come together, and justice beheld together with fortune.

87. And yet until now it seemed impossible for the same man to obtain all things; but he appears as one man who obtained either all, or at least the most of them. And one would recognize this by examining one thing alone of his — his association with the kings — and setting beside it the association that Aristotle had with Philip and Alexander. For Aristotle's was not altogether without blame in the eyes of the Greeks, but he was thought to be associated with the antagonists and enemies of the common race; whereas this man's had its good repute together with its power. For he associated not with men ill-disposed and hostile to the Greeks, but with benefactors; nor for the common harm of his kinsmen, but, besides opposing nothing, was always benefiting, if it was at all possible, any of the Greeks who came into need, and was established publicly for all in the place of a common patron. And Plato's association, again, with Dionysius — Dionysius being, of course, the man who was afterward seen in a fine condition in Corinth.

But I leave that. What I wished to say about his association is that one may call it noble, but cannot call it fortunate; whereas to him both belonged — always to wish the best, and to attain it. And indeed it is not easy to find to which race the man was the more honoured, the Roman or the Greek — so much did he make himself worth to the rulers. And among what men is it not likely that there should be talk of him, both of old and now? Who dwell so far at the ends of the earth? Who are so insensible to noble things? Who will not weep when the report comes to him? For even if the death came in its season, yet for the Greeks it was not seasonable to be deprived of such a man. Surely now all poetry has lost its bloom, all prose is contracted, all has been left bereft of its expounder and champion, and the art is widowed. And it has of necessity been contracted, small and meanly, for the many. And what Aristophanes says of Aeschylus, that there is darkness now that he is dead, this is worth saying now of him too, 88. as regards education. O fairest figure! O most venerable of the Greeks! O admired throughout your life! O you, longed for by those who met you, and longed for by others to meet, and to be deemed blessed even in the death of which we hear — you who were not consumed in sickness nor stricken with pains, but, having passed the day at your accustomed tasks, as though summoned by the divine power, gave up your soul over a book, and brought your life to its end in keeping with your name, like those who have wrought some other thing exactly to its completion, having gone through the whole journey of your life and done your own work to the utmost of your power. And if the words of Pindar and of Plato are true, and of all the workshop concerned with Alexander, and there are certain occupations among those in Hades, then surely now it is likely that choirs of poets are forming about him, beginning from Homer who stretches out his right hand, and of prose-writers and historians, and all, each one calling him to himself and bidding him share his dwelling, binding fillets on him, crowning him — and that not after judgement and dispute with another, but from the first shout; and I think that for many years no head worthy to contend with him will come down, but that his throne will be perpetual, as of the best herald and leader of the Greeks. And let none of you be indignant if, in the midst of writing this to you, I have uttered these things; since even the very cause of the letter is the wish to hear and to speak about him. Nor again is it a reproach to be stung over the man, even if he has departed at so great an age; for above all it is fitting to cherish not the youngest things but the worthiest. And then the loss is greater in proportion as it is a greater and rarer windfall to see a man at this point of old age faring so well in everything, and through all preserving his condition of health, memory, intelligence, cheerfulness, 89. and the rest. For it is much more reasonable, while he still lived, to be in agony lest he should ever depart, and to look upon him while one might as upon something else precious, than, when he is dead, to reckon up his age. But of these things there is no fear that any of you will censure me — you who, I hear, both do and say everything fitting. I shall turn back to you again in my discourse, and what remains will be brief. For I say that you justly honour him in all other respects, and that in commemorating those of his household you do most rightly and in a manner befitting your whole resolve: holding his wife as a kind of sacred thing and the portion of some good spirit, if it is lawful to say so; considering his kinsmen the fairest memorials of him; and leading his elder sons with all reverence, while rearing the youngest meanwhile most zealously and acting as his guardians publicly.

And there has befallen him a fate not of the meanest kind: for his father, having educated the most of the Greeks and even reaching to educate the children of those he had educated, did not reach his own son, but the son of him who was the common teacher of the Greeks has need of another teacher. But do you make good both this calamity and all the difficulty about what has happened, presiding in the rank of fathers, and, in a word, considering the hearth of Alexander your own public hearth. And it was necessary for me to make these exhortations to you, as I said also at the beginning of the letter — or whatever you wish to call this writing — since his affairs concerned me in many ways; for I reaped the fitting fruits of the friendship with which I loved him; and these were that he loved me no less than I loved him, as he showed, among other things, by what he did when I was sick in Rome, where he did everything that conduced to my preservation, and was himself, after 90. the gods, most of all responsible for my being saved and brought home to my own land. And as for what came afterward, what could one say? His urging of me also grieved me; for countless times upon countless, both himself present and afterward by letters, he asked me to dedicate, with the other books, some of my own compositions to you, promising them the first rank. But I, still needing to examine them, could not comply. So Alexander neither inscribed our books, nor knew the greater part of them. And yet the verdict he always passed about our discourses — I do not know whether it was superior to envy, but it surpassed all excess; and all this makes me both remember him, and count what has happened no light calamity, and besides, makes me not seem to be meddling in conversing with you now. And I could have wished that my body too were in better state, both for other reasons and that you might have some use of me as well; since I consider that those who belong to him belong to me as much as to myself.