Hiero

Suppose they are equally attentive to a sick man. Is it not obvious that the attentions of the mightiest bring most comfort to the patient? Suppose they give presents of equal value. Is it not clear in this case too that half the number of favours bestowed by the mightiest count for more than the whole of the plain citizen’s gift?

Nay, to my way of thinking, even the gods cause a peculiar honour and favour to dance attendance on a great ruler. For not only does rule add dignity of presence to a man, but we find more pleasure in the sight of that man when he is a ruler than when he is a mere citizen, and we take more pride in the conversation of those who rank above us than in that of our equals.

And favourites, mark you, who were the subject of your bitterest complaint against despotism, are not offended by old age in a ruler, and take no account of ugliness in the patron with whom they happen to be associated. For high rank in itself is a most striking embellishment to the person: it casts a shade over anything repulsive in him and shows up his best features in a high light.

Moreover, inasmuch as equal services rendered by you rulers are rewarded with deeper gratitude, surely, when you have the power of doing far more for others by your activities, and can lavish far more gifts on them, it is natural that you should be much more deeply loved than private citizens. Hiero instantly rejoined:

Indeed it is not so, Simonides; for we are forced to engage far oftener than private citizens in transactions that make men hated.

Thus, we must extort money in order to find the cash to pay for what we want: we must compel men to guard whatever needs protection: we must punish wrongdoers; we must check those who would fain wax insolent; and when a crisis arises that calls for the immediate despatch of forces by land and sea, we must see that there is no dilly-dallying.

Further, a great despot must needs have mercenaries; and no burden presses more heavily on the citizens than that, since they believe that these troops are maintained not in the interests of equality, but for the despot’s personal ends.

In answer to this Simonides said: Well, Hiero, I do not deny that all these matters must receive attention. But I should divide a ruler’s activities into two classes, those that lead inevitably to unpopularity, and those that are greeted with thanks.

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.