But whenever an abundance of necessities pours forth into the cities in a boundless flood of ever-increasing supply, then, luxuriating in the good things of nature, we do not deign to rest content with these alone, but making insolent satiety the ruler of our life, and stripping for a contest over the acquisition of silver and gold, we cover ourselves with dust like blind men before all from whom we hope to gain anything—no longer perceiving with the mind, on account of love of money, that these are but lumps of earth, on whose account continuous and unceasing war arises out of peace.
As for garments, they are, as the poets somewhere say, the 'bloom' of sheep, and the credit for them belongs to the craft of the weavers who made them. And if anyone prides himself greatly on reputation, courting the approval of the base, let him know that he himself is base as well; for like rejoices in like.
Let him pray, having obtained purification, that his ears be healed, since it is through them that the soul's gravest diseases make their assault. And let those also learn, who are puffed up over their bodily vigor, not to hold their necks high, by looking to the countless herds of tame and untamed animals, in which strength and might are inborn. For it is among the most absurd of things for a human being—and one, moreover, surpassed by such creatures—to pride himself on the excellences of beasts.
Why, then, should anyone in his right mind exult over bodily comeliness, which a brief span of time extinguishes before it has flowered to its fullest, dimming its deceptive bloom—and this while seeing, among inanimate things, the highly-prized works of fine writers, sculptors, and other craftsmen, held in esteem in painting and statuary and the varied artistry of woven fabrics, throughout every city of Greece and of barbarian lands alike?
Of these things, then, as I have said, none has been deemed by God worthy of a share in the good. And why should we wonder that this is not so with God, when it is not even so among men who are beloved of God, among whom the things truly good and beautiful are held in honor—men who have obtained a well-favored nature and have further adorned that nature by practice joined with discipline, of which genuine philosophy is the craftsman?
But as many as have devoted themselves to a bastard education have not even imitated physicians, who treat the body—that slave of the soul—even though they profess to be healing the mistress. For those physicians, whenever some fortunate man falls ill, even should he be a great king, pass over all his surroundings—the men's quarters, the women's quarters, the paintings, the silver, the gold both plain and stamped, the multitude of drinking-vessels or woven fabrics, and all the rest of the celebrated splendor of kings, and further the crowd of household servants, and, disregarding the attendance of friends or kinsmen or subjects in high office, and of the bodyguards, they make their way straight to the bed, and, paying no heed to what surrounds the body itself—neither marveling at beds inlaid with stones and wrought all in gold, nor at closely-woven or linen-stitched coverlets, nor at the varied fashions of the garments—moreover, stripping off the cloaks about him, they take hold of his hands, and pressing upon the veins, examine closely the pulses, to see whether they are healthy; and often, drawing up the tunics, they inspect whether the belly is overly distended, whether the chest is inflamed, whether the heart beats irregularly; and only then do they administer the appropriate treatment.
So too the philosophers, who profess to practice the medical art of the soul that is by nature the sovereign—they ought to despise all that empty opinions falsely fashion, and, approaching within, lay hold of her very mind, to see whether, under the influence of anger, its pulses beat unevenly and are stirred contrary to nature; they ought also to lay hold of the tongue, to see whether it is rough and abusive, whether it has grown unchaste and unrestrained; and to lay hold too of the belly, to see whether it is swollen with the insatiable shape of desire; and, in sum, to investigate each of the passions, diseases, and infirmities, to see whether they seem to be commingled, so that they may not err in applying the remedies suited to preserving health.
But as it is, dazzled by the brilliance of external things, being unable, as it were, to see the intelligible light, they have continued to wander for their whole lifetime, unable to press their reasoning through to the King himself, arriving with difficulty only as far as the outer gates, and, admiring the doorkeepers of virtue—wealth, glory, health, and their kindred—they fell down and worshiped them.
But indeed, just as it would be the height of madness to employ the blind as judges of colors, or the deaf as judges of musical sounds, so too it is madness to employ base men as judges of the things that are truly good. For these men have had crippled the most sovereign faculty within them, their reason, over which folly has poured a deep darkness.
Do we, then, now wonder that Socrates and so-and-so, or so-and-so among the earnest men, continued their whole lives in poverty—men who never once practiced any pursuit aimed at gain, nor even deigned to accept what was offered them, whether from wealthy friends or from kings holding out great gifts, all for the sake of holding that the acquisition of virtue alone is good and beautiful, and in laboring after which they took no account of all other goods?
And who would not disregard bastard goods for the sake of caring for the genuine ones? But if, having received a share of a mortal body, and being full of human afflictions, and living amid so vast a multitude of unjust men, whose very number is not easy to find, they were plotted against, why do we blame nature for it, when instead we ought to condemn the cruelty of those who attacked them?
For indeed, if they had been born in a pestilential climate, they would altogether necessarily have fallen sick; and wickedness is at least as destructive as, if not more destructive than, a pestilential condition. And just as, when it is raining, the wise man, should he be passing his time in the open air, must inevitably get drenched; and when the cold north wind blows, must be pressed by chill; and when summer is at its height, must be warmed—for it is the law of nature that bodies suffer along with the yearly changes—in the same way, one who dwells in such regions, where murders are committed and other calamities of humankind take place, must necessarily undergo, in alternation, the consequences arising from such things.
Since indeed, for Polycrates, in return for the terrible wrongs and impieties he committed, an avenger presented himself—the grievous misfortune of his life being the lesser evil; add to this that he was punished and nailed up by the Great King, thereby fulfilling an oracle, for he himself had once said, 'I know that I too dreamed, not long before, that I was hanging aloft, being anointed by the sun and washed by Zeus.' For these enigmatic sayings, conveyed through symbols, though obscure in former times, received their most manifest confirmation through the actual events.
And not only at the end, but throughout the whole course of his life from the beginning, he had unknowingly hung his soul before ever his body was hung. For he was always fearful and trembling, terrified by the multitude of those who might attack him, knowing clearly that no one was well disposed toward him, but that all were enemies, implacable toward him in his misfortune.
Witnesses to the unending and continual apprehensiveness of Dionysius are those who have written the history of Sicily, who say that he even held his most beloved wife under suspicion; and this is the proof: the entrance to the chamber, through which she was to come to him, he ordered to be laid over with planks, so that she might never creep in unnoticed, but that the sound and noise of her footsteps upon them might announce her arrival beforehand; and that she should pass through not merely unclothed, but bared in every part which is not lawful to be seen by men. Moreover, he had the continuous ground along the passageway cut through into a trench of the width and depth of an agricultural ditch, out of fear lest something be secretly hidden there for a plot against him, which could only be detected by leaping over or by taking long strides across it.
Of how many evils, then, was he full, who observed and devised such things against a woman whom, before all others, he ought to have trusted? But indeed, he was like those who climb along a sheer, broken mountain-cliff in order to observe more clearly the heavenly bodies, who, having with difficulty made their way as far as an overhanging ridge, are then no longer able either to retreat, having lost heart before the remaining height, or to venture down, growing dizzy at the sight of the chasms below.
For having fallen in love with tyranny, as though it were a divine and much-contested prize, he supposed that it was safe neither to remain in it nor to flee from it. For if he remained, countless evils came flowing upon him one after another; but if he wished to flee, the danger to his life hung over him, since men were armed against him -- if not in body, then certainly in their minds.
This is also shown by the deed which they say Dionysius performed toward the man who called the tyrants' life blessed. For having invited him to the preparation of a most splendid and costly banquet, he ordered a sharpened axe to be suspended above him by a very slender thread. And when the man, having reclined at table, suddenly saw it, being unable either to rise with confidence because of the tyrant, or to enjoy any of the things prepared because of fear, he disregarded the abundant and rich pleasures, and, stretching forth his neck and his eyes, awaited with dread his own destruction.
And Dionysius, perceiving this, said, 'Do you now understand our so-celebrated and much-contested life? For it is truly such -- unless one wishes to deceive himself -- since it contains most abundant provisions, yet enjoyment of nothing good, but rather successive fears and irremediable dangers, and a disease more grievous than a creeping and wasting sickness, ever bringing incurable ruin.'
But the many who fail to examine things carefully, being deceived by outward splendor, suffer the same fate as those ensnared by hideous courtesans, who, veiling their ugliness with clothing, gold, and cosmetics upon their faces, and lacking genuine beauty, create a false beauty as a snare for those who behold them.
Those who are exceedingly fortunate are full of such misery of soul, the excess of which, once they have judged it within themselves, they cannot contain; but, like those who under compulsion blurt out their ailments, they let slip the truest words born of suffering -- living amid an assembly of torments both present and anticipated, just as animals that are being fattened for sacrifice. For these too receive the greatest care, only that they may be slaughtered for a feast rich in meat.
There are also those who paid the penalty for impious acts concerning money, not obscurely, but openly, though to list their number would be superfluous labor; it suffices that a single deed stand as an example for all. It is said, then, by those who have recorded the Sacred War in Phocis, that, there being a law that a temple-robber should be thrown down a precipice, drowned in the sea, or burned alive, three men who plundered the temple at Delphi -- Philomelus, Onomarchus, and Phayllus -- divided the punishments among themselves. For one, thrown down through a rough and stony hill when the rock broke away, was both cast down and stoned to death; another, when the horse carrying him bolted and ran down to the sea, and the sea rushed upon him, sank together with the animal into a vast, gaping depth; and Phayllus (for there are two accounts concerning him) either wasted away from a consumptive disease, or perished, burned together with the temple at Abae.
For it would be most contentious to say that these things happened by chance. If indeed some had been punished at different times, or with different penalties, it would be reasonable to allege the inconstancy of fortune; but since all were punished together, at one and the same time, and not with different penalties but precisely those contained in the laws, it is reasonable to say that they were convicted by the judgment of God.
But if some of those who remain, being violent men who have risen up against the multitudes and enslaved not only other peoples but even their own homelands, have continued unpunished, this is nothing to wonder at. For, in the first place, man does not judge in the same manner as God, because we search out only what is visible, whereas he, penetrating silently even into the recesses of the soul, illumines the mind as clearly as in sunlight, stripping away the wrappings in which it is enclosed, and beholding the naked intentions themselves, and immediately discerning what is counterfeit and what is genuine.
Let us therefore never prefer our own tribunal to that of God, nor say that it is more truthful or better counseled than his; for that would not be holy. For in ours there are many things that mislead -- deceptive perceptions, treacherous passions, the heaviest siege-work of vices -- whereas in his there is nothing pertaining to deceit, but only justice and truth, by which each thing, being judged, is naturally set right in a praiseworthy manner.
Furthermore, my noble friend, do not suppose that a well-timed tyranny is without benefit. For punishment likewise is not without benefit; rather, to inflict penalties is either more advantageous to the good or in no way inferior to it. For this reason it has been included in all rightly written laws, and those who wrote them are praised by all. For what a tyrant is to a people, that punishment is to law.
Whenever, then, a terrible dearth and scarcity of virtue overtakes cities, and an abundance of folly rises to the surface, then God, desiring, as it were, to divert the flowing torrent of vice, so that our race may be purified, gives strength and power to those whose natures are fitted for rule.
For vice is not purged away apart from a harsh soul. And just as cities rear executioners for murderers, traitors, and temple-robbers, not approving of the men's character, but weighing only the usefulness of their service, in the same way the guardian of this great city that is the world sets tyrants over cities, as public executioners of the people, wherever he perceives violence, injustice, impiety, and other evils overflowing, so that these evils, having at last come to a halt, may abate.
Then he deems it right to pursue also the guilty men themselves, who served him out of a soul hard to cleanse and pitiless, as the chief offenders of all. For just as the power of fire, when it has consumed the fuel set before it, at last feeds upon itself, in the same way those who have taken dominion over the multitudes, when, having exhausted the cities, they have made them empty of men, are themselves further destroyed, paying the penalty on behalf of all.
And why do we wonder that God, through tyrants, drives away the vice that has been poured out over cities, lands, and nations? For often, without using other servants, he does this himself by his own hand, bringing on famine, or plague, or earthquake, and all the other calamities sent from heaven, by which great and populous multitudes perish daily, and a great portion of the inhabited world is laid desolate, all for the sake of the providential care of virtue.
Enough, I think, has now been said for the present purpose concerning the fact that none of the wicked truly prospers, by which above all it is established that Providence exists. But if you are not yet persuaded, speak boldly whatever doubt still lurks within you; for by jointly examining the difficulty together, we shall both come to know how the truth stands.
And again, after other remarks, he says: 'God has produced the movements of winds and rains, not for the harm of sailors or farmers, as you supposed, but for the benefit of our whole race. For with waters he cleanses the earth, and with winds the entire region beneath the moon; and by means of both he nourishes, increases, and brings to perfection animals and plants.'
But if this sometimes harms sailors or farmers who set out at an untimely season, that is no wonder; for these are but a small part, whereas the care extends to the whole human race. Just as the anointing provided in the gymnasium is established for the benefit of all, yet often the gymnasiarch, for reasons of civic necessity, alters the customary time and arrangement, so that some of those to be anointed are kept waiting -- in the same way God, caring as it were for the city that is the whole cosmos, is accustomed to make summers wintry and winters spring-like, for the benefit of the whole, even if some ship-owners or tillers of the soil are bound to suffer loss from these irregularities.
Knowing, then, that the mutual transformations of the elements, out of which the world was fashioned and stands together, are a most necessary work, he keeps them unhindered. But frost and snow and all such things follow upon the chilling of the air, and again lightnings and thunders follow upon the collision and rubbing together of clouds -- none of which is perhaps according to providence directly; rather, rains and winds are causes of life, nourishment, and growth for the things upon the earth, and these other things are but their consequent by-products.
It is like when a gymnasiarch, out of ambition for honor, often makes lavish expenditures, and some of the more extravagant contestants, being anointed with oil instead of water, let drops fall to the ground, whereupon the ground at once becomes most slippery mud -- yet no sensible person would say that this mud and slipperiness came about by the deliberate forethought of the gymnasiarch, but rather that they followed incidentally from the abundance of his provisions.
The rainbow, the halo, and all similar phenomena are likewise consequent by-products of rays of light mingling with clouds, not works that nature intends beforehand, but things that happen alongside natural works; nevertheless, these too provide some necessary usefulness to the more prudent, for from them men conjecture and foretell calms and winds, fair weather and storms.
Do you not see the porticoes throughout the city? Most of these face south, so that those walking within may be kept warm in winter and cooled by breezes in summer. But something else also follows, which comes about apart from the intention of the builder. What is this? The shadows cast from people's feet mark out the measures of the hours.
And indeed, fire is nature's most necessary work, and smoke is its by-product; and yet even smoke itself sometimes provides a certain benefit. Thus in daytime signal-fires, when the fire is dimmed and obscured by the rays of the sun, the approach of enemies is signaled by means of smoke.
Now, the same account that applies to the rainbow applies also to eclipses; for eclipses follow upon the divine natures of the sun and moon, and they are signs either of the deaths of kings or of the destruction of cities -- a thing which Pindar also hinted at, when an eclipse occurred, through the words spoken before.
As for the Milky Way, it shares in the same substance as the other stars; and if it is difficult to explain, let those who are accustomed to inquire into nature not shrink back from the task. For the discovery is most beneficial, and the inquiry itself is most pleasant to those who love learning.
Just as the sun and moon came into being by providence, so also do all things in heaven, even if we, being unable to trace out the nature and power of each, remain silent about them.
Earthquakes, plagues, thunderbolts, and all such things are said to be sent from heaven, but in truth they are not; for God is in no way the cause of any evil at all. Rather, the transformations of the elements produce these, not as works that nature intends beforehand, but as things that follow upon and accompany what is necessary and what precedes them.
But if some of the more refined and cultivated men share in the harm arising from these things, this is not to be blamed on divine administration. For, in the first place, it is not the case that those whom we consider good are always so in truth, since the criteria of God are more exact than all judgments according to the human mind. And secondly, providence is content to oversee especially the things that hold together the world as a whole, just as, in kingdoms and in commands of armies, oversight is directed toward cities and encampments as a whole, and not toward some single, neglected, and obscure individual who happens to be present.
Some say that, just as in the killing of tyrants it is lawful for their relatives also to be put to death, in order that wrongdoing may be checked by the magnitude of the punishment, in the same way, in times of pestilential disease, some of the blameless also perish along with the guilty, so that others may be made prudent by the example seen from afar -- apart also from the fact that it is necessary for those caught up in diseased air to fall sick, just as those tossed about in a storm on a ship are equally in danger.
And as for the fierce among wild beasts -- for this must not be passed over in silence, even though you, being skilled at speaking, have preemptively derided the defense -- they came into being for the sake of training for the contests of war. For exercises and continual hunting knit together and thoroughly strengthen the body, and, even before the body, accustom the soul, through the vigor of one's strength, to disregard the sudden onslaughts of enemies.
But to those whose natures are peaceable it is possible to live out their lives free from plots, not only within city walls, but even shut up within their own inner chambers, having for their enjoyment the most abundant herds of tame animals; since wild boars, lions, and all such creatures, following their own natural inclination, keep themselves driven far away from the city, being content to suffer nothing at the hands of men's scheming.
But if some, out of carelessness, unarmed and unprepared, dwell fearlessly near the lairs of wild beasts, let them blame themselves for what happens, and not nature, since they neglected to take precautions when it was in their power to do so. Indeed, at chariot races too, I have seen some yield to thoughtlessness -- men who, though they ought to have sat in their seats and watched in an orderly manner, instead stood in the middle of the track, and, being knocked down by the rush of the four-horse chariots, were trampled by hooves and wheels, thus reaping the wages of their own folly.
Concerning these matters, then, what has been said suffices. As for the venomous reptiles, they came into being not according to direct providence, but as a consequence, as I said before. For they are generated when the moisture inherent in a substance changes toward greater heat. And some creatures decay itself has brought to life, as worms are generated from decaying food, and lice from sweat. But whatever has its origin from its own proper matter, according to a seminal and antecedent nature, is rightly ascribed to providence.
But I have also heard two accounts concerning these creatures, to the effect that they came into being for the benefit of man, which I would not wish to conceal. The one was as follows: some said that venomous creatures assist in many medical matters, and that those who practice the art of medicine, by using them skillfully for what is required, are well supplied with remedies, for the unexpected saving of those in the most perilous conditions; and even to this day one may see those who undertake to practice medicine not carelessly or negligently making use of each ingredient with due seriousness in the compounding of their remedies.
The other account was not medical but, it seems, philosophical. For it held that these creatures had been prepared by God as instruments of punishment against sinners, just as generals and commanders keep scourges or the sword ready; for this reason, though quiet the rest of the time, they are roused to violence against those condemned persons whose own nature, in a tribunal that accepts no bribes, has already pronounced against itself the sentence of death.
As for the claim that they -- that is, such creatures -- rather tend to lurk in houses, this is more a falsehood; for they are observed outside the city, in the field and in deserted places, fleeing from man as from a master. Nevertheless, even if it were true, it would have some explanation. For in hidden corners is heaped up rubbish and a mass of refuse, into which they love to creep, apart from the fact that the smell of cooking also has a power of attraction.
And if swallows also dwell together with us, this is nothing to wonder at, since we refrain from hunting them. For a desire for safety is implanted not only in rational souls but also in irrational ones; and none of the creatures kept for our enjoyment dwells together with us, because of the schemes we devise against them -- except among peoples where the pursuit of such creatures is forbidden by law.
In Syria, on the sea, there is a city called Ascalon. When I was there, at the time I had set out for my ancestral temple, to pray and to offer sacrifice, I saw an enormous multitude of doves at the crossroads and in every household. When I inquired the reason, they told me it was not lawful to catch them, for the use of them had long ago been forbidden to the inhabitants. So tame has this creature become through this immunity from harm that it not only dwells under the same roof but continually shares the same table, and revels in the truce granted it.
But in Egypt one may see something even more remarkable. For the crocodile, that man-devouring and most fearsome of wild beasts, being born and reared in the most sacred Nile, perceives, though it dwells in the depths, from whom benefit comes. For among those by whom it is honored it multiplies most greatly, whereas among those who harm it, it does not appear even in a dream -- so that, where the crocodiles come in throngs, even the boldest of sailors dare not lower so much as the tip of a finger into the water, while elsewhere even the most cowardly leap out and swim about playfully.
As for the land of the Cyclopes, since their race is a fictional invention of myth, tame fruit does not grow there apart from sowing and the labor of farmers, just as nothing at all is generated out of what does not exist. Nor should Greece be accused of being barren and unproductive; for even in it there is much deep, fertile soil. And if barbarian lands surpass it in fruitfulness, they have the advantage in nourishment, but are inferior in respect of those who are nourished, for whose sake nourishment exists in the first place. For Greece alone truly and without falsehood 'begets man' -- a heavenly plant and a divine, well-formed growth -- bringing forth reason that is akin to knowledge. And the reason for this is that the mind is naturally sharpened by the fineness of the air.
For this reason Heraclitus, too, not without good aim, says: 'A dry radiance -- the wisest and best soul.' One might also draw evidence for this from the fact that those who are sober and content with little are more intelligent, whereas those who are always filling themselves with drink and food are least prudent, since reason is submerged by what is continually poured into it.
For this reason, in barbarian lands, shoots grow into exceedingly long stems through abundant nourishment, and irrational animals are exceptionally most fertile, yet the land produces mind least of all. This is because the successive and continuous exhalations rising from earth and water have overpowered the elevating quality of its air.
The various kinds of fish, birds, and land animals are not accusations against nature, as though it were inviting us to pleasure; rather, they are a severe reproach against our own lack of self-restraint. For it was necessary, for the completion of the whole, that there be forms of all animals, so that order might exist in every part; but it was not necessary that man, that creature most akin to wisdom, should rush headlong to the enjoyment of these creatures, thereby changing himself into the savagery of wild beasts.
For this reason, even to this day, those for whom self-control is a governing principle abstain from all such things altogether, making use, for their most pleasant enjoyment, of vegetable greens and the fruits of trees as their food. But over those who consider the feasting on the aforementioned creatures to be according to nature, teachers, correctors of morals, and lawgivers have been set up in the cities, whose concern it has been to restrain the excess of desires, by not permitting the unrestrained use of all things to all people.
But if roses and crocus and the other variety of flowers exist for health rather than for pleasure — for their powers are boundless, and by themselves, through their scents, they benefit, filling all things with fragrance, and much more so in the medicinal compounds of drugs. For some, when mixed together, render their own powers more manifest, just as for the generation of an animal the union of male and female is needed, neither of the two by itself being naturally able to accomplish what both, having come together, can accomplish.
These things have necessarily been said in response to the rest of the difficulties you raised, being able to produce sufficient conviction in those who are not contentiously disposed concerning the fact that God cares for human affairs.
These things, then, I have abridged from the man mentioned, at once showing what sort of children the Hebrews have produced even in recent generations, and at the same time making evident both the matters of their pious conception concerning God and their harmony with their forefathers. It is now time to pass on from this point to the testimonies of outsiders concerning these same matters.