[30,0] THE THIRTIETH DISCOURSE : CHARIDEMUS.
(1) (Dion)  I had heard about the death of Charidemus 
some time ago, even before I saw you ;  for when I 
landed here, I straightway made inquiries about certain 
other persons and most especially about these 
two, wishing to learn where they were and how they 
were getting on. Then I chanced upon a man who 
did not know them very well, but had merely heard 
their names,  who asked me if I meant the sons of 
Timarchus ; and when I replied in the affirmative, 
he told me that this one, meaning the younger, 
was still in Messenia with you on account of his 
mourning for his brother ; for, he said, the elder 
of the two had died. So it was clear that he was 
reporting the death of Charidemus. Yet even 
then there appeared to be some uncertainty, although 
the man had spoken clearly enough ; but afterwards 
we came to know with more certainty. Now I 
believe that I myself was almost as deeply pained as 
you men were ; for to say 'more pained' would not 
be right nor proper for me, even if it were indeed 
true that one had loved him more than you, his father 
and his brother, did. And yet the strength of 
natural affection does seem to be not very great in 
persons of the common sort. Something like this 
happened, I hear, in the case of our Opuntian
friend here after he had lost a son, an agreeable 
and clever young man, who also was our companion ; 
but nevertheless they tell me that he grieved less 
over his death than if he had lost anything else 
out of his house. You two, however, seem to be 
very much distressed by your affliction, and no 
wonder ; for such a man as Charidemus certainly 
would speedily have turned out to be, would have been 
useful, not only to your city, but to all Hellas, if he 
had lived. I, for my part, never knew any young lad 
of higher spirit than he nor of better natural parts.
(4) (Timarchus)  Yes, and if you knew how he felt 
towards you, your praise would be much warmer. 
It seemed to me that he held you in more honour 
than he did even me, his father, not to mention 
other people, since in his illness and even when he 
was practically at death's door, and we were at his 
bedside along with other relatives, fellow citizens 
and acquaintances, he kept mentioning you by name, 
although by then he could scarcely speak at all, 
and bade us say when we met you that he was 
thinking of you when he died. For he retained 
consciousness and the power to speak up to the very 
last. Furthermore, even when he was alive and well, 
he was so attached to you that he imitated you 
in his taciturnity, his gait, and in all other respects, 
as people who knew used to say.

[30,5] (Dion) Oh no, he was not imitating in those matters 
either me or anybody else ; but they were natural 
with him. Perhaps you did not notice it at first 
when he was still a child ; then as he grew older, it 
became more marked. For a manly and dignified
bearing came much more naturally to him than to 
anybody else. But I wonder if he pained you at 
all by these characteristics or appeared to you to 
be somewhat gloomy of countenance.
(Timarchus)  No, on the contrary, I thought that he was 
more cheerful than many and ready to play such 
games as were proper for free-born children, and 
always somehow ready to give a smile to people whom 
he knew ; but I did not often see him laughing without 
restraint. So he caused us no worry ; and what 
is more, he won the commendation of many people, 
and our fellow citizens had more respect for him, 
although he was only twenty-two years old—for 
that was his age when he died—than they had for 
those who were older and in the public eye.
(6) (Dion)  But did he give you any other commission 
or say anything else on his death-bed ?
(Timarchus)  Yes, many remarkable things—at least, 
so I, his father, think. For, although he was departing 
from life at such an early age, so far was he from 
lamenting his fate or showing any grief that on the 
contrary he tried to comfort us. Then finally, he 
called the servant and dictated to him, like one inspired, 
an address for our consolation, so that I began 
to suspect that perhaps it was because his mind was 
now wandering on account of the nearness of death 
that he was doing this. Those who were at his 
bedside, though, praised it highly.
(Dion)  Pray, have you what he wrote ?
(Timarchus)  Yes, indeed.
(Dion)  Then are you willing to repeat it ?
(Timarchus)  O yes, only ashamed for fear that it is not 
in proper shape, because it was spoken by a comparatively 
young man and at such a time. For I
really thought that he would have been more 
careful in what he said, had you been the only one 
present, than he was with all the rest there.
(Dion) It is no outsider that you will be reading to, 
my good friend; and, at the same time, it is not the 
style that I am anxious to observe so much as what 
his state of mind was as revealed by what he said, 
whether he was really of good cheer and courageous 
on his deathbed.
(8) (Timarchus)  Well, here it is : 
The Dying Words of Charidemus :
" What has happened to me has happened in 
accordance with God's will ; and we should not consider 
anything that he brings to pass as harsh, 
nor bear it with repining : so wise men advise us, 
and Homer not least when he says that the gifts 
of the gods to man should not be spurned by man -
rightly calling the acts of the gods 'gifts,' as being 
all good and done for a good purpose. As for me, 
this is my feeling, and I accept the decree of fate 
calmly, saying this, not at any ordinary time, but when 
that fate itself is present, and I see my end so near 
at hand. And do you, I pray, believe me, since 
I have had even greater concern for the truth than 
for you, and, so far as in you lies, do not give way to 
your grief, knowing that nothing terrible has befallen 
me ; no, not even if one offers the explanation 
of death which is the most difficult to accept.

[30,10] This explanation I will now give to you, although 
it is very likely not at all cheering, nor pleasing —
for I imagine it was not devised to please us—and 
it has something of the marvellous about it perhaps. 
It is to the effect that all we human beings are of 
the blood of the Titans. Then, because they were 
hateful to the gods and had waged war on them, we 
are not dear to them either, but are punished by 
them and have been born for chastisement, being, 
in truth, imprisoned in life for as long a time as we 
each live. And when any of us die, it means that 
we, having already been sufficiently chastised, 
are released and go our way.
(11) This place which we call the universe, they tell 
us, is a prison prepared by the gods, a grievous and 
ill-ventilated one, which never keeps the same 
temperature and condition of its air, but at one time 
is cold and frosty, and infected with wind, mud, 
snow, and water, and at another time again is hot 
and stifling; for just a very little time of the year it 
is endurable; it is visited by cyclones, typhoons 
occur, and sometimes the whole of it quakes to the 
very bottom. Now all these are terrible punishments. 
For men are invariably dismayed and terrified 
by them whenever they occur. Then in addition
to all this, because men cannot endure the bad air 
and changes of temperature, they devise for themselves 
other small prisons, namely, their houses and 
cities, which they construct of timber and stone, just 
as if a person should build other smaller enclosures 
inside of a large one.
And the plants which grow all about us and the 
fruits of the earth are created, they assure us, 
simply in order that we may serve out our time here. 
They are just like the unappetizing and wretched 
food which is given to prisoners, but we nevertheless 
put up with it on account of the necessity which is 
upon us and our helplessness. For in the case of 
men who are being punished by us, whatever is 
furnished appears appetizing because they are 
hungry and used to it. These foods are in reality 
bad and spoiled, and that they are spoiled is shown 
by the frailty of our bodies. And, further, it is not 
even furnished us ready at hand, nor yet supplied 
in abundance to everyone, but must be won with 
intolérable toil and hardships.
" Also, we are composed of the very things which 
torture us, namely, soul and body. (14) For the one has 
within it desires, pains, angers, fears, worries, and 
countless such feelings ; and by day and by night it 
is ever racked and wrenched by them. Even the 
man who is of a better bodily condition than most, 
is free from none whatever of these troubles, but 
has them shut up within him just like wild animals 
compelled to keep quiet by force and persuasion 
alike ; but if he stops singing charms to them and 
watching them, for even a short time, they instantly 
become very active. 

[30,15] Our body too is subject to vertigo, 
convulsions, epilepsy, and other diseases, so numerous
that it is not even possible to enumerate them, since 
it is full of blood and air, and, further, is composed 
of flesh and sinews and bones, of both soft and hard 
things, of moist and dry things, complete opposites. 
Then our foods, as I said, being bad and the weather 
variable, aggravate some of our diseases and bring 
on others, which, though they do not seem to be 
there at first, yet are actually inherent in the nature 
of our bodies. These are the evils which lie within 
our own selves. The other chastisements, which 
come from without, are lighter in comparison with 
those that come from our own nature. For the 
effect of fire or steel, of blows, or of other things is 
sharp and quickly passes from consciousness even if 
it becomes at any time a Little excessive. But in 
the case of diseases sometimes the effects last for a 
very long time.'
(17) " Such, then, are the tortures, and so numerous, 
by which men are afflicted while they remain in this 
prison and dungeon, each for his appointed time ; 
and the majority do not get out until they produce 
another person from their own loins and leave him 
to succeed to the punishment in their stead, some 
leaving one and others even more. They do not 
stay voluntarily, but are all bound fast by one chain, 
body and soul, just as you may see many persons 
bound by us by one chain in a row, some of them 
small, some large, some ugly and some good looking ; 
but none the less all of them are held on equal terms 
in the same constraint.
(18) "And, likewise, men are superior one to the other 
in their fortunes, reputations, and honours, just as 
they are in their bodies. Some of them are kings, 
others are in private station, some are wealthy, 
and others are without means. Yet no whit less 
on this account do the fortunate, as they are called, 
suffer and are held fast in the same bondage, than do 
the poor and unknown, nay, they suffer more than 
the others. For since the poor are leaner, the bond 
which lies about each of them is looser and easier. 
But as for kings and tyrants, just because they are 
puffed up in soul and are in exceedingly good bodily 
condition, so the chains lie heavier upon them and 
gall them the more ; exactly as in the case of persons 
whose bodies are bound, the fetter pinches the stout 
and bulky more than it does the thin and undernourished. 
However, a very few enjoy some relief 
by the kindness of God ; and while they are indeed 
bound, yet the bond is very light on account of their 
goodness—a class of men concerning whom we shall 
speak again.

[30,20] "But first it is right to say that once when a child 
I heard a wandering philosopher explain what the 
nature of the chain is, that it is not at all like such 
chains as we have, made of iron or bronze as our 
chains are, but much stronger, and yet similar in 
form and construction. For just as our chains are 
forged out of a number of links that are interlocked 
with one another, and that from one end to the other;
so too is that other one by which we asserted that 
men are bound by the gods. This chain, he said, 
is composed entirely of both pleasure and pain, 
and these things are intertwined, the pleasant and 
the painful, and the one always of necessity follows 
the other, just as, I suppose, are the links of a 
chain. Great pleasures are followed by great pains, 
the small pleasures by smaller pains, and the very 
greatest pleasure at the end is death. This is the 
reason that the pain which comes before death is the 
greatest ; for it is clear that man has no greater pain 
and suffering than this which ends in death.
(22) "He said, further, that for each man there are 
other bonds, in some cases lighter, in other cases 
heavier, which lie upon him just like fetters: they 
are called hopes by us. Now just as the fetters are 
at the lowest part of the body and around our extremities, 
so the hopes too are at the very bottom and 
surround the final part of our life. They most of all 
hold men in their thrall and compel them to endure 
even though they suffer all tortures. In the case of 
the senseless and foolish, these fetters are massive 
and exceedingly thick, but for the more intelligent, 
the shackles that surround them are loose and light.
(23) "And, mark you, he also compared something 
to a file, very manfully sticking to his parable. 
This, he said, is found only by the intelligent and 
shrewd ; for it is locked away very carefully, just as a 
person might hide a file in a prison in order that none 
of the prisoners might get hold of it and then free
himself. Now the ambitious and industrious have 
trouble in finding it, but still they do find it. And 
the name they give to it is `Reason.' Then, as 
soon as they find it, they use it to file the fetters and 
make the part of the chain that binds themselves  
as thin and weak as possible, until they overcome 
the pleasures and pains so far as one may. But 
this is slow work. Only with difficulty does their
'reason' affect the chains because they are of 
adamantine hardness,  and it wears them away only 
gradually, but is not able to wear them entirely 
through and tear them asunder. And when a man 
does get hold of this remedy, and uses it industriously 
by day and night to the best of his ability, he now 
endures his confinement cheerfully, walks around 
past the others as if he were a free man, and when 
his fated time comes, he goes his way without 
hindrance, as though no longer restrained by force 
or clamped to the chain. Of such men the gods 
at times make some their coadjutors on account 
of their virtue and wisdom, after completely freeing 
them from their punishment.

[30,25] "Now this explanation was given, in my opinion, 
by a certain morose man who had suffered a great deal 
in his life and only late had gained true education ;  
but it is not the right explanation, nor one that 
befits the gods. There is another one better than 
that, which I am much more eager to give. I heard 
it from a peasant who spoke with a very rustic drawl
and accent. However, perhaps there is no need for 
us to imitate this, and we shall attempt merely to 
record his thought.
(26) "He said, in reciting the praises of Zeus and the 
other gods, that they are good and love us  as being 
of kin to them. For it is from the gods, he declared, 
that the race of men is sprung and not from Titans 
or from Giants. For when they got the universe 
into their power, they established mankind upon the 
earth, which was hitherto uninhabited, as a sort of 
colony made up of their own people, on the basis 
of inferior honours and felicity, but with the same 
righteous laws as their own; precisely after the 
fashion in which great and prosperous cities found 
the small cornmunities. And I thought that he 
meant, without expressly adding the proper names, 
just as Athens colonized Cythnos and Seriphos, or 
Sparta founded Cythera in ancient times, giving them 
the same laws as they themselves had. And in 
these various colonies you may behold copies of the 
customs and the form of government which their 
founders enjoy, but all are weak and inferior. However, 
the superiority of the colonizers over their 
colonies is not as great ; for in the one case it is the 
superiority of men over men, whereas the greater 
excellence of the gods as compared with ourselves 
is an infinite one. Now, as long as life was but newly 
established, the gods both visited us in person and
sent harmosts, as it were, from their own number 
at first to look after us, such as Heracles, for example, 
Dionysus, Perseus, and the others, who, we are told, 
were the children of the gods, and that the descendants 
of these were born among us. Afterwards 
they permitted us to manage for ourselves as best 
we could. And then it was that sin and injustice began.
(28) "The peasant also chanted a second monody, 
telling how the universe is a house very beautiful 
and divine, constructed by the gods ; that just 
as we see houses built by men who are called prosperous 
and wealthy, with portals and columns, and 
the roof, walls, and doors adorned with gold and 
with paintings, in the same way the universe has 
been made to give entertainment and good cheer to 
mankind, beauteous and bespangled with stars, sun, 
moon, land, sea, and plants, all these being, indeed, 
portions of the wealth of the gods and specimens 
of their handiwork.
(29) "Into this universe comes mankind to hold high 
festival, having been invited by the king of the 
gods to a most splendid feast and banquet that 
they may enjoy all blessings. They recline in 
different places, just as at a dinner, some getting 
better and others inferior positions, and everything 
resembles what takes place among us at our entertainments, 
except that we are comparing the
divine and great with the small and mean. For the 
gods furnish us with light of two kinds by means 
of lamps as it were, at one time a brighter and at 
another a dimmer light, the one at night and the 
other by day ;  

[30,30] and tables are set beside us, 
loaded with everything, with bread and fruit, some 
of it wild and some cultivated, and with meats 
too, some from domestic animals, some from wild, 
and fish also from the sea. And these tables, the 
peasant said, speaking like a true rustic, are 
the meadows, plains, vales, and coast-land, on 
which some things grow, others pasture, and yet 
others are hunted. And different persons have 
different things in greater abundance according to 
the tables at which they have severally reclined. 
For some happen to have settled by the sea, others 
on the plains, and yet others in the mountains. 
And the waiters are the Seasons, as being the 
youngest of the gods, beautifully dressed and fair to 
behold, and they are adorned, not, methinks, with 
gold, but with garlands of all manner of flowers. 
And some of the flowers themselves they distribute 
and also attend to the viands of the banquet in 
general, serving some and removing others at the 
right time. And there is dancing and every other 
sort of merrymaking. Furthermore, that labour 
which we think we undergo in farming and hunting 
and the care of the vines, is no more than it is for those 
at a table to reach out for a thing and take it in their 
hand. To return now to my statement that different 
persons reclined in different places, the reason for
that is the differences in the climate. For those at 
the head of the tables and those at the foot, more 
than of the others, are either in the cold or in the 
heat, because they are either near the light or far from it.

(33) "Now all, so the man continued, do not enjoy 
the merrymaking and banqueting in the same way, 
but each according to his own nature. The dissolute 
and intemperate neither see nor hear anything, 
but bend over and eat, like pigs in a sty, and then 
nod in sleep. Again, some of them are not satisfied 
with what is near, but reach out their hands for the 
things that are farther away, as, for example, people 
living inland want fish and take trouble to get it; 
while others, who are insatiable and wretched, 
fearing that food will fail them, collect and pile up 
for themselves as much as they can, and after this, 
when they have to go, they depart without having a 
share of anything, but utterly destitute, and leave 
these things to others; for they cannot take them 
with them. Now these persons are a laughing-stock 
and disgrace. 

[30,35] Others play at draughts and yet 
others with dice; but the draughts and dice are 
not like those to which we give these names, but 
are made some of gold and some of silver—we call 
them coins—and over them they quarrel and each 
seeks to get the greater share. It is these last-named 
men who cause the greatest uproar and 
disorder—I mean those who play at dice—and 
they appear to be the most disagreeable of 
the revellers. Sometimes, too, they fight and come 
to blows and wound one another. But it is the 
drunken who are most inclined to act this way.
However, it is not wine that makes them drunk, 
as it is with us, but pleasure. For this is the beverage 
that the gods furnish at this banquet to which all 
mankind is invited, so that the character of each 
man may be revealed. And two cup-bearers stand 
at their elbows, one male, the other female ; the 
one of them is called Intelligence and the other 
Intemperance. Now those banqueters who are 
sensible have the male cup-bearer and from him 
alone they accept the drink sparingly, in small cups, 
and only when it has been so mixed that it is quite 
harmless ; for there is only one bowl, that of 
Sobriety, has been placed before them, nevertheless 
there are many bowls available for all and differing in 
taste, as though filled with many kinds of wine, and 
they are of silver and of gold; and besides, they 
have figures of animals encircling them on the out-side 
and certain scrolls and reliefs. But the bowl of 
Sobriety is smooth, not large, and of bronze, to 
judge by its appearance. So from this bowl they 
must take many times as large a portion and mix 
with it a little of the pleasure and drink. Now for 
those whose cup-bearer he is, Intelligence pours 
out the wine just so, fearing and giving close heed lest 
in some way he should fail to get the right mixture 
and cause the banqueter to stumble and fall. But 
Intemperance pours out a neat draught of pleasure 
for the great majority without mixing even a little 
of sobriety with it, though for some she puts in just a 
very little for the name of it ; still this little straightway 
disappears and is nowhere to be seen. And
the drinkers do not take intervals of rest, but hurry 
her on and bid her come faster to them, and each one 
of them grabs first at what she brings. But she 
hurries and runs about panting and dripping with 
sweat. Some of her guests dance and lurch, falling 
prostrate in the sight of all, and fight and shout, 
just as men do who are drunken with wine. However, 
these do so only for a little while and 
moderately ; for they are content to sleep a little 
while, and after that they feel better than ever, since 
their intoxication was slight. But those who have 
become stupefied by pleasure, being affected by a 
stronger potion, act this way all through life ; and it is 
impossible for them to get free while they live but 
only when dead. For death is the only sleep for 
people intoxicated in this way and it alone helps them. 

[30,40] Many too vomit from surfeit, and it is 
accompanied by retching and the severest pain -
this casting out of the pleasure. But whoever 
persists is relieved and gets on better for the future. 
Yet it rarely happens that a person wishes to vomit; 
much rather do they wish to keep on drinking. 
For their thirst does not cease, but ever becomes more intense, 
just as with people who use untempered wine.
(41) "Such, then, is the character of these people, 
and they disgrace and insult the bounty of the gods ; 
whereas the temperate and reasonable enjoy 
pleasure in moderation and at intervals, owing to 
their fear; and just as a gentleman who has been 
invited by some superior, such as a king or a prince, 
neglects the food and drink, except in so far as he 
cannot avoid eating and drinking, and pays attention
to what is in the palace and enjoys this ; so the 
reasonable neglect the drinking and draughts and 
dice, and look at the state of the things within, admire 
the banqueting-hall in which they are reclining, 
try to learn how it was made, and observe everything 
that is in it, just as they would some fair and beautiful 
paintings ; and they notice the management also 
and its orderly system, and the Seasons too, observing 
how well and intelligently they do everything ;
they observe attentively all these things and alone 
perceive their beauty. They are anxious also not 
to appear to take part in all this like persons who are 
blind and deaf, but they wish to have something to tell 
about it when they leave, if anyone should ask them 
about what they saw and observed. And throughout 
the banquet they continue to take thought for these 
things and to enjoy the pleasure intelligently and 
moderately, while they debate man to man, or in 
congenial groups of two or three. Sometimes, however, 
when a great noise and disturbance is caused by 
those who are drunk, they look in their direction 
and then straightway again give attention to their 
own concerns.
(43) "And when they have to depart, the dissolute 
and intemperate are pulled and dragged away by 
their slave attendants with discomforts and spells 
of sickness, shouting and groaning the while, and 
having no knowledge whatever where they have 
been or how they have feasted, even if one or another 
of them remains a very long time. But the others 
depart erect and standing securely upon their own 
feet after bidding farewell to their friends, joyous 
and happy because they have done nothing unseemly. 
God, therefore, looking upon these things
and observing all the banqueters, as if he were in his 
own house, how each person has comported himself 
at the banquet, ever calls the best to himself; and 
if he happens to be especially pleased with any one, 
he bids him remain there and makes him his boon 
companion ; and thenceforth this man regales 
himself with nectar. This resembles the beverage 
of Sobriety, but is clearer by far than the other 
and purer because, as I think, it belongs to divine 
and true sobriety."

[30,45] (Dion)  Alas, Charidemus, what a man has been 
lost to us in your death ! How far you would have 
surpassed the men of your generation, and what a 
splendid revelation of your character you have given 
to your father and your fellow citizens, a display, not 
of words assuredly, but of great and true manliness. 
For my part, I know not how to console you of his 
family, bereft of such a man, by exhorting you not 
to sorrow too deeply, for I am not able adequately to 
console even myself for the present. (46) You alone, 
Timarchus, are able to lighten this father's grief and 
to bring healing to his misfortune, by making it your 
concern not to be found much inferior to the departed. 
For it would be strange indeed if, while you have 
already received part of his property, great as it was, 
and will receive the other part in the future when 
your father here dies, yet you should forsake sobriety, 
courage, and a love for all that is most beautiful, 
as if in these matters you were of no kin at all to Charidemus.