The duty of teaching the people what things are best, and of dispensing praise and honour to those who accomplish the same most efficiently, is a form of activity that is greeted with thanks. The duty of pronouncing censure, using coercion, inflicting pains and penalties on those who come short in any respect, is one that must of necessity give rise to a certain amount of unpopularity.
Therefore my sentence is that a great ruler should delegate to others the task of punishing those who require to be coerced, and should reserve to himself the privilege of awarding the prizes. The excellence of this arrangement is established by daily experience.
Thus, when we want to have a choral competition, the ruler offers prizes, but the task of assembling the choirs is delegated to choir-masters, and others have the task of training them and coercing those who come short in any respect. Obviously, then, in this case, the pleasant part falls to the ruler, the disagreeables fall to others.
Why, then, should not all other public affairs be managed on this principle? For all communities are divided into parts—tribes, wards, unions, as the case may be—and every one of these parts is subject to its appointed ruler.
If, then, the analogy of the choruses were followed and prizes were offered to these parts for excellence of equipment, good discipline, horsemanship, courage in the field and fair dealing in business, the natural outcome would be competition, and consequently an earnest endeavour to improve in all these respects too.
And as a matter of course, with the prospect of reward there would be more despatch in starting for the appointed place, and greater promptitude in the payment of war taxes, whenever occasion required. Nay, agriculture itself, most useful of all occupations, but just the one in which the spirit of competition is conspicuous by its absence, would make great progress if prizes were offered for the farm or the village that can show the best cultivation, and many good results would follow for those citizens who threw themselves vigorously into this occupation.
For apart from the consequent increase in the revenues, sobriety far more commonly goes with industry; and remember, vices rarely flourish among the fully employed.
If commerce also brings gain to a city, the award of honours for diligence in business would attract a larger number to a commercial career. And were it made clear that the discovery of some way of raising revenue without hurting anyone will also be rewarded, this field of research too would not be unoccupied.
In a word, once it becomes clear in every department that any good suggestion will not go unrewarded, many will be encouraged by that knowledge to apply themselves to some promising form of investigation. And when there is a wide-spread interest in useful subjects, an increase of discovery and achievement is bound to come.
In case you fear, Hiero, that the cost of offering prizes for many subjects may prove heavy, you should reflect that no commodities are cheaper than those that are bought for a prize. Think of the large sums that men are induced to spend on horse-races, gymnastic and choral competitions, and the long course of training and practice they undergo for the sake of a paltry prize.
Well, Simonides, said Hiero, I think you are right in saying that. But what about the mercenaries? Can you tell me how to employ them without incurring unpopularity? Or do you say that a ruler, once he becomes popular, will have no further need of a bodyguard?
No, no, he will need them, of course, said Simonides. For I know that some human beings are like horses—the more they get what they want, the more unruly they are apt to become.
The way to manage men like that is to put the fear of the bodyguard into them. And as for the gentlemen, you can probably confer greater benefits on them by employing mercenaries than by any other means.
For I presume that you maintain the force primarily to protect yourself. But masters have often been murdered by their slaves. If therefore the first duty enjoined on the mercenaries were to act as the bodyguard of the whole community and render help to all, in case they got wind of any such intention—there are black sheep in every fold, as we all know—I say, if they were under orders to guard the citizens as well as the depot, the citizens would know that this is one service rendered to them by the mercenaries.
Nor is this all: for naturally the mercenaries would also be able to give fearlessness and security in the fullest measure to the labourers and cattle in the country, and the benefit would not be confined to your own estates, but would be felt up and down the countryside.
Again, they are competent to afford the citizens leisure for attending to their private affairs by guarding the vital positions. Besides, should an enemy plan a secret and sudden attack, what handier agents can be found for detecting or preventing their design than a standing force, armed and organized? Or once more, when the citizens go campaigning, what is more useful to them than mercenaries? For these are, as a matter of course, the readiest to bear the brunt of toil and danger and watching.
And must not those who possess a standing force impose on border states a strong desire for peace? For nothing equals an organized body of men, whether for protecting the property of friends or for thwarting the plans of enemies.
Further, when the citizens get it into their heads that these troops do no harm to the innocent and hold the would-be malefactor in check, come to the rescue of the wronged, care for the citizens and shield them from danger, surely they are bound to pay the cost of them with a right good-will. At all events they keep guards in their homes for less important objects than these.
Nor should you hesitate to draw on your private property, Hiero, for the common good. For in my opinion the sums that a great despot spends on the city are more truly necessary expenses than the money he spends on himself.
But let us go into details. First, which do you suppose is likely to bring you more credit, to own a palace adorned with priceless objects of art, or to have the whole city garnished with walls and temples and verandahs and market-places and harbours?
Which will make you look more terrible to the enemy, to dazzle all beholders with your own glittering panoply, or to present the whole of your people in goodly armour?
Which plan, think you, will yield revenues more abounding, to keep only your own capital employed, or to contrive to bring the capital of all the citizens into employment?
And what about the breeding of chariot horses, commonly considered the noblest and grandest business in the world? By which method do you think you will gain most credit for that, if you out-do all other Greeks in the number of teams you breed and send to the festivals, or if the greatest number of breeders and the greatest number of competitors are drawn from your city? And how is the nobler victory gained, by the excellence of your team, or by the prosperity of the city of which you are the head?
Indeed my own opinion is that it is not even seemly for a great despot to compete with private citizens. For your victory would excite envy rather than admiration, on the ground that many estates supply the money that you spend, and no defeat would be greeted with so much ridicule as yours.
I tell you, Hiero, you have to compete with other heads of states, and if you cause your state to surpass theirs in prosperity, be well assuredBut εὖ ἴσθι is not right. All the MSS. have εὖ ἔσει, which perhaps conceals εὐδαίμων ἔσει, you will be happy, being the victor. that you are the victor in the noblest and grandest competition in the world.
And in the first place you will forthwith have secured just what you really want, the affection of your subjects. Secondly, your victory will not be proclaimed by one herald’s voice, but all the world will tell of your virtue.
The observed of all observers’ eyes, you will be a hero, not only to private citizens, but to many states: you will be admired not only in your home, but in public among all men.
And you will be free to go wherever you choose, so far as safety is concerned, to see the sights, and equally free to enjoy them in your home; for you will have a throng of aspirants before you, some eager to display something wise or beautiful or good, others longing to serve you.
Everyone present will be an ally, everyone absent will long to see you. Thus you will be not only the loved, but the adored of mankind. You will need not to court the fair, but to listen patiently to their suit. Anxiety for your welfare will fall not on yourself, but on others.
You will have the willing obedience of your subjects; you will mark their unsolicited care for you; and should any danger arise, you will find in them not merely allies, but champions and zealots.Or champions full of zeal. The καὶ is not free from suspicion. Accounted worthy of many gifts, and at no loss for some man of goodwill with whom to share them, you will find all rejoicing in your good fortune, all fighting for your interests, as though they were their own.
And all the riches in the houses of your friends will be yours in fee. Take heart then, Hiero; enrich your friends, for so you will enrich yourself. Exalt the state, for so you will deck yourself with power.
Get her allies for so you will win supporters for yourself. Account the fatherland your estate, the citizens your comrades, friends your own children, your sons possessions dear as life. And try to surpass all these in deeds of kindness.
For if you out-do your friends in kindness, it is certain that your enemies will not be able to resist you. And if you do all these things, rest assured that you will be possessed of the fairest and most blessed possession in the world; for none will be jealous of your happiness.