Orationes 9

56. But it seems to me one of the noble things, in a festival and at a sacred season, to make some mention and to speak about the divine and benevolent King. For surely there is no fear that, having set out to praise him, we should then be at a loss for words; the fear is rather that the qualities belonging to the King may be such that no one 57. could be able to speak about them worthily. For my part, exalted by his good and benevolent fortune in all other respects, and emboldened by the reports about him, I took courage. Therefore, leaving aside all those other things which it is the custom of men who make prefaces to say and to plead as their excuse — some the magnitude of the deeds, others the shortness of the time allowed for speeches — and needing neither the Muses, as some of the poets do, nor any other help from outside, I shall turn to the praise of the King himself: not out of presumption, nor because I despise the subject, but because I see that those who at the outset disarm criticism and excuse themselves are, in a way, themselves despising the themes of speech that they take up. For in saying these things they seem to me to indicate nothing else than this: those who say they are speaking on the spur of the moment imply that, had they taken thought in more time and prepared, they would have furnished speeches equal to the magnitude of the deeds; while those who grant themselves the power to speak about the greatest matters make a profession, and give themselves this excess of praise. But I see neither an amount of time sufficient, nor any speech worthy of the King, nor anyone who will be able to extol him adequately; yet for all that one must not play the coward, but try to speak so far as one is able. For neither, when we sacrifice to the gods, do we, I think, do this with an eye to what is worthy of them, but we pay them this thanks so far as is in our power; and therefore, in the case of the King too, we ought not to shrink when about to praise him, but to go to his praise with confidence. For toward him our words will perhaps fall short, but toward you they will not be spoken short of the mark. This, then, is the first and greatest thing one can say about him: that even before he came into the office he was worthy of the kingship. For those who acquire rule through others, or take it over from their predecessors, win the kingship thus — some setting force in place of justice, others preserving, as it were, the succession and inheritance of a family; but a man who, without himself canvassing or requesting it, when all requested that he should become King, gave himself to those who requested and summoned him — to such a man this prize was owed long since and for his virtue. 58. And indeed, while many dispute the kingship with those others, with him no one disputes it. And yet whether it is through fear of him, or through reverence for the better man, or, as I said, because they think they must yield to the best and most just judgement — how is it not plain from all this who it was who ought to be King? Moreover, it is possible to infer about the kings before him how far he at once, in these very first matters, surpassed them. For they entered upon affairs amid wars and many slaughters, destroying many of those in the ranks, and becoming the cause of incurable calamities to many, so that many subject cities were left desolate, and much land made waste, and very many lives consumed, so that not everything fell out for them with piety, nor could they themselves say this of themselves; whereas he so piously and nobly set himself over affairs that neither in establishing himself nor at the beginning of his reign did he have need of any slaughter; nor, as in a change and resettlement of affairs, did any man experience anything harsh, nor were any of those many and seemingly necessary things which are wont to happen in such circumstances done at all; nor did anyone suffer anything incurable or terrible — no men, no cities, no nation. But the gods so took thought for him, that he should set himself over affairs piously and reverently, that the deeds which were of madness and recklessness they assigned to others, while those of justice and benevolence and the rest of piety they preserved for him. And indeed, not even when he had got the rule did he do anything grim, nor imitate, nor emulate any of these things; nor, like other kings before him who feared certain men in office, charging them with plotting against themselves, 59. did he punish some with exile and some with death — he did none of these things, nor did he change his character, but he is so far removed from all such things, and so far is he from wishing to bring about murders and deaths, that even some of those who plot against him, and some who are openly convicted, even these survive and live by his benevolence. And this is a demonstration not only of his mildness, and of his being piously disposed toward all and not enviously disposed toward any of the honoured and pre-eminent, but also of his not being struck with consternation in his rule by fears, nor being in a turmoil at events, nor being quick to lean toward anger and wrath, but employing a firm and unmoved mind toward all. And with reason. For it was likely that the man who had learned what one ought, and been educated, and neglected none of the noble things, nor become ignorant, but had adorned his soul with all the parts of virtue, should be outside all error.

This education, then, the King too having received, and having partaken of all the noblest things — some belonging to him by nature, others arising from education, and that not moderately, nor as with certain others, but to the highest pitch of each — was of great benefit to the kingdom even before he came into it. For to him alone of kings, or among few, belonged in pre-eminent degree what follows. What, then, is this? Those others, the rest of the time, attend to their own affairs, and only when they enter upon their rule do they then begin to care for it; but he had so consecrated himself to the kingship that, posted at the first as he happened to be posted, while the future was unclear, seeing many things in the kingdom administered neither nobly nor piously, but much wilfulness and insolence and licence having grown up in it, he did not allow these to grow or to advance further, but, like a physician healing the festering and diseased parts of a great body that is not healthy, or like one who curbs the wild and 60. disobedient temper of a difficult and violent horse — carried off by it at times, yet often restraining it and checking its continual, irrational, and violent impulses — he acted for it and foresaw what was advantageous. Such a man, then, was he before he became King. And when the providence that administers and orders all things seated him too upon the royal throne, the most just and most pious of kings, what could one say first and greatest of the blessings of his good fortune and forethought that we enjoy? When all things had been shaken and removed, so to speak, into another land, and the empire was tossing as in a great storm or earthquake, and then, like a ship about to sink, was being carried off toward the ends of the earth — where indeed some of those who had been in office and in kingdoms before had also gone astray, and then, encountering many and grievous perplexities as in a labyrinth, in the end gave themselves up for lost, shut off from the road back, unable to return — seeing this, he did not, like an inexperienced pilot, allow it to be carried wherever it might and to be in danger, but, as the most experienced of kings and pre-eminent in judgement, first he checked it and stayed it from its rush in that direction, and then brought it and set it in harbour. And now it lies at anchor in the safest place, like a ship that has long since come out of a great storm; and he so guides and governs the rule in the way one ought — by piety and justice, and further by temperance and self-control and prudence, and the rest * * the virtue of good order. For he began, as is fitting, from piety, and went on through the other parts of virtue as well. For who has brought forth so many and such proofs of justice, who of benevolence, who of the rest of virtue, as this King?

And first let us behold his justice in the matter of money. For when the assessment levied for the administration was excessive, and more 61. tributes were imposed, and not even these sufficed, but the treasuries everywhere had been emptied, and the fear about the future was always greater, he did not need or seek for more, nor did he become base on account of money, but he relaxed and lightened it, becoming in these matters not only the most just but also the most benevolent of kings. And such was he toward money. But his justice and benevolence toward lawsuits — who could worthily praise it? For what Rhadamanthys or what Aeacus kept himself so just a judge toward all? Or rather, justice is not always or in every case benevolent; but he both knows the just exactly, as being himself the lawgiver and discoverer of it, and, doing nothing outside justice, nevertheless secures benevolence by this very means, so that the most exact justice can be one and the same with the purest benevolence. The cause of this is that he does not take the just by looking to others as interpreters, but, himself possessing from education the knowledge of what is truly noble and good, and having added to it experience derived from the laws, so that nothing of what is written escapes him, he thus makes his judgements about all things. There is no one, at any rate, who has not gone away having obtained justice, nor has any man found fault with the verdicts given before him — neither the prosecutor when defeated nor the defendant when convicted — but both go away content and doing him reverence, and both the defeated and the victor cast the same vote about what has been decided. And if it should happen that some must undergo punishment, they do not consider that to suffer and to pay the penalty is terrible, but they count it gain not to suffer something greater besides; for the punishments do him no hatred of the wrongdoers, but rather work instruction — most of all, if it be possible, of the men themselves, and if not, of those who will hear of it. And if again to be a lover of the Greeks is a noble thing and fitting for a King, to whom does the praise thus belong? For so exceedingly a lover of the Greeks is 62. the King, and so abundantly does this noble quality belong to him, that, while the education of the Greeks was neglected and despised, and the honours paid to it had been abolished, and the whole Greek world had been thrust aside and counted as nothing, the King did not neglect it, but to its existing honours he added still others.

And so much for justice. But what benevolence is greater than this, or more manifest? Whereas all the subject world had crouched in fear and been enslaved by terror, with many of the listeners going about and eavesdropping in all the cities to see whether anyone uttered a word, and while it was not possible to think or say anything in freedom, the sober and just right of free speech having been abolished, and each man trembling at his own shadow — he delivered them from this fear and set free the souls of all, restoring to them their liberty entire and whole. And this, then, is the greatest thing in the King's benevolence and beyond every example: for, being so great a King, he has so surpassed all kings in gentleness and equity that one can say he is in a small degree like a father, in a small degree like a shepherd to the rest, and everything that the poets have uttered of rulers who tame their subjects. For what manner of equity has he left out? Is not the manner of his benevolence most common toward all the subject world and toward those who approach him on every occasion — and the gentleness of his bearing, how benevolent it is, and the temperateness of his speech, and the fact that one need take no trouble for the sake of access, but that it is open to enter, as it were within the holy-water vessels, for those who are conscious of even some small good in themselves — how is this not beyond all gentleness and benevolence? For he does not think, by presenting himself as rare and hard of access, that he will carry off the reputation of being a great and wonderful King and such as no other ever was, but rather that he would best confirm the title of being such a one, if he should make his goodwill and benevolence common to all 63. who have need of it; thinking that the truly true King must be likened to the King of the universe in benevolence and in forethought for all his subjects, and must not, before the kingship, display some good and moderate character of his own, but, once declared King, be harsh and violent toward his subjects; for this is not the bearing of a kingship that is equitable, but the most manifest proof of clumsiness and want of education — such as was the general of the Spartans who led the Greeks against the barbarians, Pausanias I mean, the son of Cleombrotus, who, while he stayed at home, was able to be temperate, but, having sailed to the Hellespont, forgot his home, and forgot himself, and resembled anything rather than a Spartan man, being harsh and violent toward the allies, dissolute and insolent in his manner of life, and tyrannical in his ways. But the King has shown that it is possible for the same man to be one and the same throughout, both as a private man and as a King: presenting himself before the kingship such that he was justly deemed worthy of it, and in the kingship employing the same mind and manner, not stepping outside himself nor emulating licence, but choosing the temperate life, hating insolence and lawlessness, and presenting himself as a pattern of temperance, so that those who were until then licentious and insolent changed their ways when they saw his temperance, and ceased from their desire for money, and disposed themselves toward the more temperate. And indeed, of all the pleasures that rule over men, we know the King to be the slave of none. For so far did he hold aloof from them at once from the beginning that, if there is any self-control hymned among men, that which is told of him alone seems to be trustworthy. For who is so self-controlled in the matters of the belly, who in those of sex, who in the other pleasures? For he did not, as I said just now, have virtue by halves, nor, like certain other 64. kings who, seeming to be reasonably disposed toward courage and benevolence, were shown to be most licentious in their pleasures and desires — as Homer, extolling the general of the Achaeans, Agamemnon, says: "both things, a good king and a mighty spearman." Yet this man appears in him a slave to Chryseïs, and in love with Briseïs the captive of Achilles, and through this desire the cause of many great evils to the Achaeans. And again Achilles, the son of Thetis and Peleus, was so licentious in his pleasures and so mean-spirited that, when Briseïs had departed from him and spent some time with Agamemnon, he was at once so affected that he wept, looking out over the wine-dark sea, calling upon his mother like a little child that has suffered this at the hands of another like himself; and when she came, recounting the cause of his tears, and bidding her entreat Zeus that he might become an ally to the Trojans and work the greatest evils upon the Greeks; and after this, seeing many of the Achaeans falling on every occasion by the Trojans and by Hector, and certain of his own comrades and friends dying, he did not turn to them nor pity them.

Those men, then, fell far short of virtue; but he is "both, a good king and a mighty spearman." For he who has so far looked down upon the pleasures as to be slave to none of them — how is he not the one who is in very truth courageous and temperate and steadfast? For walls that often seemed impregnable, even men of no account have ere now taken; but by the pleasures I see many even of the very best men overcome. And as for ease of life and frugality of diet, who is so courageous as to be able to endure it so readily? And indeed, courage toward enemies has fallen to the lot of many, but to be ruled by their own soldiers, or to master them — this he so easily mastered and settled that, while the things given to them were many and beyond counting, 65. and it was hard and fearful if they should not receive so much, and even more than what was given them, he did not so much as increase their desires, but, defining what was needful, made the soldiers better at toils and at the training of their bodies, no longer allowing them to attend to receiving, but making the practice of warlike exercises habitual to them, and not letting them pass their lives in self-indulgence and luxury, but so that they might have no occasion for desire of this kind. By doing this he both relieved the wants of his subjects, and took care for the good order of the soldiers, and made the revenue of money more secure. Of these things there could be no greater proofs of courage together with good counsel. And indeed one might reasonably make this very thing a proof of cleverness and wisdom. For to have forced and compelled men, and to have made them content by fear and not by an abundance of judgement, is one way of bringing them into this state; but to persuade men insatiably disposed toward money and gain to be moderate — this, I think, he could not easily have been able to do, had he not been beyond all men in conceiving and in speaking. And of prudence he has furnished many other works in his reign, but the noblest and most worthy of praise is the King's good counsel and intelligence with regard to wars: that, seeing in wars those who are reputed clever and warlike thinking they must conquer by fighting, and not by deliberating well, he did not imitate them or emulate them, holding that against equals one must use arms — for it is noble to conquer such men by courage — but against the barbarians one must use good counsel. For he knew, I think, that even the man who led the many myriads against the Greeks, and whom neither earth nor sea could contain, was sufficiently defeated by the judgement of a single man. For where it is possible to prevail by deliberating, what need is there of dangers?

66. Furthermore, to conquer in battles falls often even to base men, but to be able to prevail by prudence and wisdom belongs only to those who know how to deliberate. And indeed those who wish to display their courage on every occasion and on every pretext, if they succeed, have set things right, but if defeated, involve themselves and their friends in the greatest calamities; whereas those who recognize what is needful and reckon it up, if they succeed, obtain no less than what they wished, and if they fail, are in no way harmed. Knowing this, the King too thinks he must not imitate the senseless and reckless among men, but be safe against the barbarians by deliberating well. And indeed not even in battles and in arms did the enemy find fault with him, but he showed them that he was able to master them not only by intelligence and the rest of his education, but also by courage. For where the Celts, the greatest and most murderous of all under the sun, who have dared many things of every kind, now do reverence to their master, having recognized that to keep quiet was better, and to do what is commanded, than to make war — and now this name alone of the race is left; and all that part which dwells beyond the Euphrates and the Tigris toward the east, having been stirred up, has now been brought to order and instructed to know its betters; and the whole continent is at peace, and land and sea crown their protector, and Greeks and barbarians now utter the same voice, and the empire, like some ship or wall, has been refitted and fortified and has securely recovered its own good — what courage has he not surpassed in these things, or what settlement could prove better and more profitable than this? Is there not now full security for all, wherever a man wishes to go, 67. and are not all the harbours everywhere active? Do not the mountains afford to travellers the same security that the cities afford to those who dwell in them, and does not grace possess all the plains, and has not all fear been dissolved throughout all? For what fords of rivers have been barred against crossing? What straits of the sea have been shut off? Now both the festal gatherings are more radiant and the feasts more dear to the gods. Now the fire of Demeter too is brighter and holier. O light of human happiness! Now all men think they have found true happiness. O you who have surpassed all kings — the wise in wisdom, the courageous in courage, those distinguished for piety in piety, the most fortunate in fortune — in return for which no worthy thanks could be rendered you by us, neither in praises nor in any other honour. And may it be yours, O noble son of noble parents, to walk in the footsteps of your father. Let this be said as the greatest thing that can be said in brief.