Oration 49

Dio Chrysostom

Translated by Thothica

In the atlas

9 min

To reasonable and educated men ruling is neither unpleasant nor hard. For they delight in nothing more than in doing good; and to the ruler of a city or a nation, or even of more men, there belongs not only the fullest power of conferring benefits, but well-nigh a necessity of it. Otherwise men will not endure the harmful ruler — not men only, who are held to be the keenest of all creatures, but not even the most senseless of the beasts.
For neither do cattle readily endure the carelessness of herdsmen, nor herds of goats and flocks of sheep their destroying keepers. For some flee and do not obey, and others even defend themselves against their wicked overseers. And horses, throwing off their unskilled drivers, punish them far more cruelly than those punish them by striking with the whip. But of all these man is the most formidable and possessed of the greatest intelligence; so that to a bad leader he is of all the most hostile, but to a good one of all the most well-disposed. So pleasant, then, is ruling to those who understand it; and no matter could be hard to one who has practised it from the beginning and is prepared for it.
Now the true philosopher will be found to labour at nothing else than how he may be able to rule well — himself, and his household, and the greatest city, and, in a word, all men, if they will entrust themselves to him; and he himself will have need of no further ruler than reason and god, but will be competent to care for and take thought for the rest of mankind. And this has not escaped even kings themselves, nor those in positions of power who are not utterly senseless. For they need the educated to become their counsellors in the greatest matters, and, while themselves giving orders to the rest, they receive from those men orders
as to what they ought to do and from what to abstain — just as Homer says that Agamemnon ever had need of Nestor's judgement, and that as often as he was not persuaded by his counsel, he lamented and straightway repented. And Philip, who is held to have been the most formidable of kings, brought in Aristotle as teacher and ruler for his son Alexander, on the ground that he himself was not competent to teach the kingly science; but while he thought fit to rule the rest — Macedonians and Thracians and Illyrians and all the Greeks — he handed over his son to another to be ruled, and, giving orders to so many myriads, he could not bear to give orders to that one man. For he did not consider the danger to himself equal, if he should err concerning the rest, or if he should err concerning his son.
And yet formerly he himself, while a hostage in Thebes, associated with Pelopidas, an educated man — so that they said Pelopidas even became his lover — and he both beheld the deeds of Epaminondas and heard his discourses, who not by chance attained so great power among the Greeks and wrought so great a change as to overthrow the Lacedaemonians, who had ruled so long, but by having associated with Lysis the disciple of Pythagoras. Whence, I think, Philip far surpassed those who reigned in Macedonia before him. Yet, though he had met with such an education, he did not dare to teach Alexander himself.
One would find that philosophers have rarely held rule among men — I mean the so-called offices, being appointed generals or satraps or kings; but that the ruled have reaped from them the most and greatest goods: the Athenians from Solon and Aristides and Pericles the disciple of Anaxagoras; the Thebans from Epaminondas; the Romans from Numa, who, some say, partook of the wisdom of Pythagoras; and all the Italian Greeks from the Pythagoreans, prospering for so long a time and governing themselves with the greatest concord and peace, as long a time as those men managed the cities.
And in common, too, the strongest of the nations, since they cannot always be ruled by philosophers, have appointed such men as overseers and rulers over their kings: the Persians, I think, those called among them the Magi, who were experienced in nature and knew how the gods must be served; the Egyptians, the priests, who had the same science as the Magi, caring for the gods and knowing all things, where and how they stand; the Indians, the Brahmans, surpassing in self-control and justice and in friendship with the divine, whence they know the things to come more than other men know the things present with them;
and the Celts, those whom they name Druids, these too being concerned with prophecy and the rest of wisdom; without whom it was not permitted to the kings either to do or to deliberate anything, so that in truth those men ruled, while the kings became their servants and ministers of their judgement, sitting upon golden thrones and dwelling in great houses and feasting lavishly. And indeed it is likely that the man can most competently administer every rule who, ruling without ceasing the hardest of rules, is able to render himself faultless.
Now the philosopher always rules himself — which is altogether harder than to be king over all the Greeks and all the barbarians together. For what race of men is so savage as anger and envy and contentiousness, of which he must be master? And what so cunning and treacherous and apt to betray as pleasures and desires, by which he must never be overcome? And what so violent and confounding and humbling of souls as fears and griefs, to which it never befits him to be seen yielding?
And what weapons, what defences has he thrown up against these, such as kings and generals of a city set against their enemies? And what allies or bodyguards is it possible to use against these, if not wise and prudent reasonings? And to what others can he commit the watches, or entrust the guarding, or what ministers can he employ? Must he not, both by night and by day, taking thought and keeping awake, maintain this guard, lest, before he is aware, he be either shaken by pleasures, or stricken with terror by fears, or thrust aside by desire, or humbled by grief, so as to stand off from the best and justest deeds, becoming a traitor to himself?
But for the man who rules this rule strongly and with self-control, it is no longer hard to become superior to all men together. And whenever I discourse thus about philosophers, let no one suppose that I speak with an eye to the outward garb and to the name. For neither do men of sense judge wine from the jar — for often you will find in a fine jar the wine of the taverns gone sour — nor the educated man from his garb.
The many, however, I do not wonder are deceived by such a thing. For the suitors judged Odysseus and Irus by their garb to be in no way different. And one of the philosophers of a little while ago — no mean man — said that this above all was the vexation of Ismenias: that the players at funerals were called flute-players. The case is not wholly alike, it seems to me. For the funeral-flautists do no harm to the dead nor trouble them, whereas some of those who pretend to philosophy do many grievous things as well.
But the work of the true philosopher is nothing other than the rule of men. And whoever shrinks from administering his own city, when it is willing and calls upon him, on the plea that he is not competent, is like a man who should be unwilling to treat his own body, while claiming to be a physician, but should eagerly doctor other men, taking money or honours — as though health were a lesser fee than another fee; or like one who, claiming to be a competent trainer or teacher of letters, should be willing to teach others' children, but should send his own to some other, one of the meaner sort; or like one who, neglecting his own parents, should wish to prefer strangers, those whom he perceives to be richer than they, or more renowned.
For it is neither more just nor, by Zeus, pleasanter to overlook one's nearest and to become useful to those who are nothing to one. (At any rate, the consequence of these arguments is that I am willing to rule.) But know well that, were it not that something is impossible, I would not have waited for you to think it fit, but would myself have thought it fit and have urged it. For this too is one of the noble and prudent things: for a man, of his own bidding and grateful for the election, to rule his fellow citizens, and not, by pulling it down, to make the office dishonoured.
What, then, is the impossible thing at present? I, for my part, think fit to be believed in the rest of what I say — for I have never deceived you, as I believe, about anything; nor formerly did I speak with another mind, but ever-increasing occupations have, against my will, until now restrained me from leaving them. But now it is well-nigh no longer possible. For it is better neither for me nor perhaps for you that I should pass my time here. So that I beg off the vote. For I know that it would have needed no scrutiny, but that, just as before in the open you all voted, when you suspected that I wished it, the same you would do now too. But I am not so disposed; rather, that I should rule, I know it would not have been necessary for me to urge, but in urging that I be released, I am not ashamed.