Orationes 44

Translated by Thothica

32 min

If my body were in such a state, men of Rhodes, as I should have wished and as you will join in praying for, I should myself have crossed over and come to address you in person, for many reasons; but since the report has perhaps reached you too of how I am disposed, as to my own affairs I entrust them to the gods, through whom I have been preserved even to this present time; while toward you it remained to send the book, and in this way to be with you, in the first instance. And I should reasonably not be thought meddlesome, treating your city as a fatherland. For, seeming to be reckoned not among the lowest of the Greeks, the consideration that it befits me to care for all the Hellenic cause is not idle; and of the claims I have upon you privately, neither have you forgotten; in return for which, in claiming to say and do anything whatever
on your behalf, I should justly meet with pardon. Now, in what manner I was disposed at the disaster of the earthquake, and what kind of man I showed myself to your envoys to Egypt in those times, you would learn best from them. But when things were reported to me far more dreadful, if one may say so, than those — that you distrust yourselves, and are divided, and stir up disturbances unbefitting you — I knew neither how to believe nor how to disbelieve. For those who reported it were your own citizens and in other respects trustworthy; and yet to admit readily such charges against you was not possible. Now, if Terpander the Lesbian were alive, I would have prayed with you for him to come; but since one must, by bare speech, persuade and set affairs in order, I make the contest my own. First, then, consider this: that about any other matter it is possible to set out the opposing arguments too, but about concord no one has ever disputed that it is not the greatest of goods for cities. Rather, about the constitutions themselves and the laws within them men think differently, each apart; but that in every constitution nothing is more opposed than faction, nor anything that more ruins what is established — this has, as it were, prevailed with one voice. And yet, how is it not strange that, while all agree about this very thing, that concord is fine and saving, yet, neglecting it, they think it right to quarrel with one another — and that to no purpose, and that what no one else of Greeks or barbarians can fail to know well, this the Rhodians should escape?

Nor, again, is it human to profess to know, yet willingly to make light of one's preservation. And it would, I think, most please me to be censured on this score — that I say old things and have found nothing new at all. For how is it not strange to blame the speaker for advising things too well known and ancient and approved by all, yet for themselves not to dare to use what is so manifest, but not only to be factious toward themselves but to be at variance with the whole time up to now? But I hold that neither the counsellor nor those who use his counsel ought to look to this — the one, how he shall say what no one else has,

the others, how they shall hear what they have not before — but that one ought to choose to say whatever is likely to be of common benefit. For neither in the needs of the body has each of us been eager for this, to hear something new, but he is the best physician who knows how to make men healthy; nor is there any of you who will be vexed if he is saved by the same means by which someone has been saved before. Nevertheless, I, for my part, would wish that, just as here I think I have it in my power to gratify you by being able to say something more than those before us who set their hands to like tasks, so you too should be willing to gratify yourselves, and not only for this time, while you now listen to this speech, to be of the same mind about what is said — but also in what comes after; for you will plainly be persuaded by it, I know well your readiness and love of listening — but also about your dealings with one another to use one judgment henceforth, and to add to the speech, by which you have been pleased, the confirmation of deed. And I think you would all agree that, just as of speeches in the law-courts you hold those truest for which there are the most and most reputable witnesses, so too of those that come for counsel, those should most be trusted for which there are the most and most serious witnesses. Refer this, then, to Homer, the common counsellor and patron of the Greeks, who made the wisest of the Greeks of that time pray, together with Nausicaa, while she was still a maiden, that the gods might grant them a husband and a home and oneness of mind: "for nothing is mightier and better than this,

than when two, being of one mind in their thoughts, keep house,

a man and a wife; much grief to their ill-wishers,

joy to their well-wishers; but most of all do they themselves hear of it." And do not think that one would manage a single household well in one way, and a whole city in another; but if it is one preservation of single households to be of the same mind, much more must cities be so disposed, inasmuch as, when a single household is divided, a cure is easily found, but for a city it does not come even to be easy to find; and, while a single household faring well or worse

is of little advantage to all, when men flourish in common it is likely that they fare better in their private households too. If, then, the counsellor thought it a fitting time to pray about concord even for those who were about to inhabit a household, surely those who from of old inhabit a city, and one so conspicuous, must reckon all else second to this.

Well, then. Let us divide it threefold, and, having first viewed a single household drawn from the city, let us then mount up in our discourse to a single man, and consider what sort of man it is to whom one would not be ashamed to be likened. And here above all we should discern the good of concord that has escaped you. For who is so out of his senses, or so inexperienced in the things in nature, that he would choose, for his use, the man who shifts at random and easily and never remains the same nor keeps to what he has resolved, in preference to the man constantly serviceable and steadfast? For instance, who would wish to make a marriage-alliance with such a one before the other, or to enter into partnership, or to share a tent, or to take part in any of the common dealings, however many actions there are among men — with one who does not even himself know what he wishes, but, like the Euripus, is carried up and down, at war and at faction with his own self? Therefore the man opposite to this wins in the judgment of all the judges, the man who is simple, noble, free from falsehood, holding the same opinions about the same things, in concord, so far as is possible, with his own self. How, then, is it not strange, two men being supposed — the one resembling the factious city, the other the city that is in concord as it ought to be — that we should reproach the one as incurable, and set down the other as best, and yet not preserve consistency, but, in our public affairs, show ourselves imitating the man whom one would pray not to meet? And indeed, no reproach so befits private persons to shun as it does a city in common. For the greater the standing, and the more there are to share knowledge of it, the more is it fitting to be pure of all that is shameful. And apart from this, neither is the danger comparable. For a private man, not steadfast in judgment, becomes none the more his own slayer, but is penalized only so far as he seems to be base; whereas a city divided, first, bears a double folly,

then, what it does is shown by its suffering, and it pays the penalty in the very facts. Which, it seems to me, Hesiod too, foreseeing, forbids all strifes from afar — every strife that does not summon to work; and reasonably. For there is no iron, no palisade, no weapon, that is fearful to cities, if only they are willing to be of good sense; but these things too the many, through folly, make strong against themselves. Now, other things, overlooked, make the penalty occasional, and it is not an error in all the votes; but to turn against one another, and to dissolve this dwelling-together that came about for the common preservation, and to tear it apart, and to think that each is ordering his own affairs well — this surpasses all folly of men, so far does it go beyond.

And indeed I think I should not be acting out of season in mentioning Solon, especially where it is a question of laws and constitution. He, then, in his elegies, going through what he had done in his statesmanship, prides himself most of all on this — that he mingled the people with the powerful, that they might inhabit the city with one judgment, neither party being stronger than is commonly beneficial. And this is the part not only of one who exhorts to concord, but who shows how it is fitting to acquire it. And what need is there to speak of them one by one? For there is no poet, no lawgiver, no orator, who, so to speak, begins from anywhere else, nor sets anything before friendship and trust toward one another; reasonably and necessarily. For if those allies are most trustworthy and most binding who hold the same enemy and friend, surely to look upon one's own selves as enemies is not a saving thing. For whom of those outside is it possible to use, for those who do not have their own? And one might know it by inferring from the very name — for this alone is called the "disease" of a city. And yet, how is it not strange that, of the infirmities in bodies, which ruin some single part, we have such forethought as to make them cease as quickly as possible, but of those that destroy cities publicly we should not seek the quickest riddance,

but rather that they should be as many as possible — and that we should ask the gods to avert the involuntary ones, such as famine and plague and the like, but the things that work greater evil than these, and which it is possible to heal by good sense, these we should not wish to heal? Will you, then, say that you do not even pray about concord? What other good, then, will you pray for, for your own selves? But, by Zeus, you do this eagerly? Then is it not strange to trouble the gods, yet not to be willing to do yourselves what the gods themselves think lies in your own power? And indeed, if those diseases of the body are the heaviest and need the most care which lay hold of the inner parts, how must not these too be held the last of misfortunes for a city, by which it is destroyed within? Or do we judge enemies more fearful when they have got inside the wall, but think it a small thing that we ourselves, in the midst of the city, war with one another? And indeed neither shall I accept that argument, that civil faction is more grievous than war by as much as war is than peace. For I see that war often turns out more choice-worthy than peace, but faction never than concord. For to many who have made war it has already brought advantage, both to the acquisition of wealth and toward reputation and toward strength and all that one might mention; but those who use faction and hatred toward one another have never yet profited from the goods they had — so far were they from acquiring others. To put it briefly: when peace exists, it is worse to be roused to faction than to war, by as much as it is worse to do harm to oneself than to others; and in war, this same thing is worse by as much as war is than peace. And indeed it is not that it now seems, but did not seem before, to be the last of evils. For tyranny is more moderate than faction by so much, inasmuch as, first, it is a lighter thing for one to do ill to a city than for all in a circle; and then, no one of sound mind has ever thought it right to free a city so that it might be factious, but, for the sake of not being factious, some have already on purpose set up tyrants. And under a tyrant some of the lawgivers themselves have said that one may even introduce laws,
but that under faction a constitution should either be first composed or hold together no one has ever thought possible. And indeed some cities under tyranny have already advanced in greatness and equipment, but cities not destroyed by faction we could not find. And yet, how is it likely that rewards have been proclaimed for those who kill tyrants, but for those who dissolve factions men should not even be willing to be persuaded?

You, then, pride yourselves on being free, and you so praise democracy that you would not accept even to become immortal, unless someone allowed you to remain under this constitution. And yet, how is it not unreasonable to honour it so, yet, by outraging it, to be unwilling to keep faith with it; and, if someone should establish a monarchy, to take it bitterly, but, the thing shown to be more grievous than this by as many points as I said, this you willingly increase, and cannot even reckon this — that there is no way, if these things go on thus, but that you will run the risk of being deprived of this seeming freedom; and if you do not willingly turn back, another will come who will save you by force. For it is neither a rule for rulers to be ignorant of such things, nor to set them at nought. So that, if for no other reason, at least for the sake of being free to do what you wish, abstain from these present courses, that you may not at the same time fear as much as you now take courage, nor cast away your ancient ambition. It is, indeed, the part of the time past to enjoy this — using the most familiar examples for present circumstances; and to set these out to certain others would perhaps be boyish, but toward you, who are purely Greeks and bred from childhood in these things, it is not useless. Look, then, first to the city of the Lacedaemonians, which is of the same race as you, which, so long as it was factious, was no better than any of its neighbours, but even in war was worsted, as is said, for the most part; but when it was set in order through the words and laws of Lycurgus, it led the Greeks both city by city and in common. Again, consider the case of the

Athenians, who, being factious, could be useful neither to themselves nor to others; but when, ridding themselves of the tyrants, they came to concord with one another, they freed not only the city but also Greece, in the greatest crises. And taking up the empire, so long as they held one judgment, they held out against well-nigh all men both by land and by sea; but when they were divided, they razed their walls and gave up their ships. And the people, having suffered so great a misfortune, having been driven out and come back again, though it was in their power to take vengeance on those who had risen against them and against whom they had been arrayed, chose concord, making the common preservation of the city prior to private grievances. And so it came again into power, and led the Greeks, almost all of them, in turn. So great an evil is faction to cities, and so great a good the willingness to cease as quickly as possible. And if I must recall your forefathers the Argives too, it is said that these too, being disturbed among themselves, when envoys of the Athenians had come to them and taught them how they had ordered their own affairs, gave heed, and, removing the faction out of the way, came again to the same point. Now, therefore, men of Rhodes, you must think that from all these cities a common embassy has come to you, calling you to reconciliation, and that I am their spokesman, joining in begging what we think altogether best for you. And indeed you must not do the same as the Athenians, nor pay together so many talents borrowed against you, as a token of good faith; but unpenalized prudence lies before you, if you bear in mind the things I said and look no longer to one city or a second, but to the common affairs of the Greeks and all the Hellenic cities, for which neither phalanxes of hoplites opposing, nor a multitude of cavalry, nor anything else of what seem to be fearful things, but faction against one another and distrust, and neither being of one mind in common nor again being sound man by man, became the cause of so great a change. And let none of you in security
make the excuse that the circumstances are different, but let him consider this in common against all faction, that it is by nature ever apt to deprive men of the goods at hand. And apart from this, men of Rhodes, the calamity is also the greater, if, in such circumstances — in which there is no fear nor danger, and one may enjoy as much prosperity as one wishes — you should on purpose throw away the share falling to you, as though it were a festival-allowance. For so long as the affairs of the Greeks were divided, it was likely to be of advantage, and that some of you should choose these, others those. But now what occasion is there for faction, or what lack of liberty? Is not all the earth common, and the king one, and the laws common to all, and is there not freedom to take part in politics and to keep silent and to depart and to remain, as much as anyone wishes? What need, then, of imported evils, or of a madness superfluous to all?

But indeed, it is not so much to show that faction is the most grievous, as the last, of evils, as how you shall be rid of it, that is perhaps the task to find. For it seems to me that you err not so much through ignorance of your advantage, as, if one may say so, through a certain desperation, and through being willingly overcome by your quarrels. I say, then, in sum: first, let all anger depart out of the way, like a siege, taking its own with it; for affairs are not best judged by passion. Then remove envy and grasping from both sides — envy, I mean, of the lesser toward the greater, and grasping of the greater toward the weaker; in a word, imitate the form and pattern of a household. What, then, is this? There are rulers in a household, fathers of children and masters of slaves. How, then, do these dwell well together? When the rulers do not think everything permitted to themselves, but willingly take away from their power, and the others receive whatever seems good to their betters as if it were permitted. And without this good sense on both sides it is not easy to find a household that will be preserved. This, then, it seems to me one ought now to bring also to the common affairs of the city, reckoning that those who claim to be stronger, whatever of

the weaker they willingly destroy, do damage to their own ambition. For the existence of the weaker is a gain to the stronger, if indeed they are to have those over whom they may show themselves stronger; and that those who fall short, either in property or in the rest of fortune, if they outrage the greater, do far more damage to their own preservation than if they were willingly to pull down the wall. For this is a law truly laid down by nature, established by the stronger — that the weaker hear the stronger. And if anyone makes it a token of freedom to destroy this law, he deceives himself and does much as if all men in common, having become envious of the gods, should then no longer believe in them. And if any of you, because of having suffered many dreadful things before getting satisfaction, thinks it intolerable to be reconciled, in the first place he is disposed in the opposite way to himself. For if faction becomes the cause of so many and so great evils that he thinks life not worth living unless he shall in some way get satisfaction, how is it not best to flee from it? For it is the part of men of good sense not to wish to withdraw from things they have found gladdening, but, of things they have found so harsh and turbulent and everywhere full of unpleasantness, to cease as quickly as possible — not holding the evil to be a remedy for the evil, but reckoning that memory and forgetfulness are two terms, opposite, of two opposite things, and that one ought to mark the good things with memory, but to strike out the base ones with forgetfulness. Then, whenever passion altogether besets you, you must call in its ancient adversary, reason, and speak thus to yourselves: "We are Rhodians, and if anyone of Greeks or barbarians should dispute our nobility, we should wish to prevail over him. Since, then, we wish this, the fatherland must be preserved by us in common, that we may have something over which to take pride. Therefore, when men are factious, it perishes, but when they use one judgment, it becomes at once fairer and greater. Why, then, do we dissolve our own selves?" If each single man should be willing to say these things to himself, he will not give
place to fits of anger. For how is it not truly strange to be all alike disposed toward speeches on behalf of the fatherland, if there were need, but, toward the very saving of the fatherland and the use of the fair speech about it, not to dare to be of the same mind — but in deed to destroy it, and in word to adorn it, and to await the victory of Cleomenes the Laconian, who cut his own body into strips, beginning from the feet? Or what, by the gods, do you think, if each man should set up this boundary for himself, that he will be sensible only when he has put his enemies out of the way? Would anything else be left than that, of so many men and women, one man and one woman should be left, like those they tell of from the flood? And in what will you differ from the women who tore Pentheus apart, when you yourselves tear the common body of the city apart with your own hands? It is necessary, then, for those who have suffered to give what has happened over to some occasion and to fortune, and to count no gain greater than this; and for those who have done the deeds, in turn, to be ashamed of what they did, not to take pride in it, and to count it enough, by being the first willingly to begin concord, to dissolve former things — setting down as the wage of those deeds the not paying the penalty, reckoning that they are receiving it.

And I think there are so many evils in faction, that, were one minded to dissuade about any other matter, it would befit him to say all the harm it does; but about this, on the contrary, it is wholly profitable to keep silent rather than to stir the memory of what each has suffered, for one who is not going to do the opposite of what he wishes. But the arguments one might use on behalf of the other side, of concord, are already past counting; nevertheless one must imitate the enchanters, who, uttering the same words often, thus seem to accomplish their end. For concord alone secures the seasons that come from Zeus, alone sets its seal upon everything — adorning the things in the country with husbandry and giving both the fruits of what one has and the acquisition of more, and ordering the things in the city according to one's prayer, through which there are timely marriages, and the giving and taking in marriage to whom one wishes and from where one wishes, and the rearing of children and their education according to the ancestral laws, and security for women and trust in

contracts, and the reception of strangers and the worship of the gods and processions and choruses and good cheer, and further assemblies and council-houses, which Themis, the eldest of the gods, brings together, and resources of livelihood for the poor and the enjoyment of their goods for the rich, and the tending of the old in their age and a life in order for the young, and, as the saying is, all things common, like the light of the sun, under which we are preserved. And yet, how is it not unreasonable, of statesmen, to praise most those who provide you with the most enjoyments, whether by finding out spectacles, or distributing money, or in some one way adorning the city, but yourselves willingly to stand apart from so many goods, as though doing harm to certain others and not to your own selves? You must, then, as though some painter had set before you the images of both, looking by turns at each — or as though some poet were describing them — how the one is well-shaped and well-knit and well-coloured and graceful and agreeing with herself throughout in every detail, having come from the gods to earth; while the other is the bitterest of all spectacles to behold, her head thrown back, her lips livid, her eyes turned aside, ruined, swollen, ever held fast by fresh-falling tears, her hands without control, bearing the sword inward toward her breast, swaying upon thin and crooked feet, and round about her, like a net in a circle, gloom and darkness, under which she mostly dwells among tombs instead of temples. Looking to these, you must thus make your choice, judging at leisure with which it is better to dwell. And indeed it is worth all men's while to be earnest about concord; but how much it is yours above all others needs no long argument to show — you who anciently are Dorians from the Peloponnese, and alone to this time have been Greeks throughout, and have used Heraclidae and Asclepiadae as your founders and kings. And besides these, your city is the fairest of the Hellenic cities through all its equipment. And yet it is strange that, while for fair bodies men have more forethought even when they belong to others, you should
not spare your own fair things. And consider how much glory the things said by the poets about you bring you; whose words I shall pass over and shall mention the testimony of Homer alone. And it runs how? "They who dwelt about Rhodes, arranged in three divisions,

Lindus and Ialysus and white Cameirus." I, for one, am already stung at the word, considering how unworthily of it we are disposed, now led by no good order. And the rest of the testimony, what is it like? "And in three parts they dwelt, ranged by tribes, and were beloved

by Zeus, who is lord over gods and men." Consider that, having spoken well of well-nigh all things among the Greeks, the poet attributed the greatest of all to you. Whether, then, being factious and disturbed and hating your own selves, do you think you would be more beloved of the gods and confirm what comes from the poet, or by leading the city through good order and concord?

Well, then. Being beloved of the gods, whether do you think you would rather be factious and disturbed and live amid the curses of enemies, or, on the contrary, fare as the prayers of the temperate would have it — honouring the gods, recognizing one another, flourishing in all things? Therefore, since on both counts faction appears foreign to you and hateful to the gods, and concord alone saving, it surely befits you, as in a reckoning of money, to accept the conclusion. And indeed neither is this reasonable — that your forefathers, formerly divided threefold, should have come together to the same point for the sake of concord and trust toward one another, and have inhabited one city out of all, while you should make many out of one city by being divided. And it would be the height of absurdity, if, dwelling in three parts, you showed yourselves of one and the same mind, but, being together, you shall war with one another. Are you not ashamed before the Sun, who to others is a spectator of what happens, but to you is also a founder? Will not each of you hold this present day to be the first of the island's birth, when it rose up out of the sea as a gift to the god? Will he not take care that he

shall not appear meaner than the temple-robbers, doing harm to the god's allotment? Will he not, raising his hands aloft with reverence and fear, ask the gods pardon for the errors committed up to now, instead of, as though in a moonless dark, perishing while you inhabit the holy city of the Sun? Or do you think the Cephallenians with Odysseus will be thought so accursed of the god as you, if you shall utterly destroy for him his city? And indeed, if this too must be added — they, as long as they listened to the best counsel and were in concord, kept their hands off the cattle and were saved; but when they were divided, they perished, all save one, the one who gave the best counsel. Look, then, also toward these tripods here in the temple of Dionysus — and surely you rejoice to look upon them. Do these, then, seem to you ever to have been set up, while the choruses in them were fighting? Or is this plain, that even if not contraries, nor one man one thing and another another, but they sang the same words not in unison, all of them, it would have remained for them to take to flight? And indeed no chorus out of tune is so unlovely a spectacle as the people of the Rhodians not uttering the same thing. Well, then. Those men who pursued the pirates and adorned the dockyards with the beaks and those great triremes, which we saw before the earthquake — by the gods, if they had fought, not against the Tyrrhenians nor against the pirate vessels, but against one another, ship by ship, would they ever have ruled the sea, or brought these adornments into the city, or left it to their descendants to take pride in these works? But, I think, the matter of their own preservation would first have arisen for them. Then is faction in a ship not a saving thing, but in a city, and that a sea-girt one, is it prudent for men yoked together to destroy one another, or to imitate the evils of the Lesbians and the Mytileneans, being Rhodians? But it would have been far better for them, desiring your good order, to be seen, than for you to endure to become imitators of their misfortune. And yet one might have fitting and pertinent things to say to those men too: "Men of Lesbos, to what have you been led on? You who
say that your whole island is musical, and for this lay the blame on the head of Orpheus, are you yourselves not ashamed to be so unmusically disposed? And once you conquered the Greeks with cithara-singers, but, through being unable to take counsel for your own selves, you run the risk of being worsted even by all men? And formerly, going elsewhere from your land, you used to stop factions, but now you cannot even among your own selves recognize your own selves?" These things, it seems to me, one might rightly say on their behalf too, by way of admonition. Nevertheless, to them, it seems, this unreason of misfortune has been allotted from of old, and they have often been convicted of being not as they ought; but to you the disease in no way belongs — you whom we, even when we were among you, then saw using in the assemblies not only one voice, but, if one may say so, for the most part one word — for rightly a crown and such things sufficed you, and to proclaim the name of the speaker sometimes, and it was a delight to behold — and, instead of the show of hands, using the nod of the head. So that one would say that you alone keep a truce through all time; whereof I hear things now not worthy, things that depart not even a little, even imperceptibly, from the rhythm. And this too is grievous to me, if, while in your names from birth you appeared so very Greek that one could find, so to speak, no name among you that was not Dorian, beginning from your guest-friends, yet in your civic life, letting go the ancestral harmony and the truly Dorian mode, you shall inherit foreign evils, befitting all men rather than you. By no means, O good and noble men; but, considering that ancient saying, that of errors on this side and on that it is not possible to take away anything, but the matter has such an end as the occasion brought, while "the minds of the good are healers," as the praiser of the Rhodians says — and that to be born from the first without error belongs to the gods, and of those upon earth no one is free from error, but to be willing to be persuaded by those who speak well befits you, and that you would thus most gratify the god, to whom the poet consecrated this saying, since he is of the sea, "whoever obeys the gods"; and besides

this, that, while it is more profitable to be a slave than to have freedom as a provision for evils, yet there is fear lest you be deprived even of this; and, greatest of all, having reverence for the temples and tombs and the name of Rhodes, enviable up to now, cease from this earthquake, which goes round everywhere with you, and do not need a second and more wretched one, but come to be within your own selves — that we may take pride in you as in good comrades, and you in us, as in men able to persuade you of whatever the occasion ever requires.