Dio Chrysostom, On Kingship 3.5

But where a god, the fairest and most conspicuous of all, does not neglect his eternal watch over man, can it possibly be right for man, intelligent object of the god's care, to feel oppressed by similar duties? Should he not, so far as in him lies, imitate the god's power and goodness? 

Reasoning thus, the good king endures without repining. He realizes too that toil brings health and salvation and goodly report as well; while, on the other hand, luxurious ease brings quite the opposite. Then again, toil endured ever grows less and easier to support, the while it makes pleasure greater and less harmful if it follows the toil. Ease, on the other hand, makes toil appear more and more difficult in that it lessens pleasure and blunts its edge. 

The man who lives in the lap of luxury and never puts his hand to a single task, ends by being unable to endure any task or to feel any pleasure at all, however intense. Consequently, he who loves to toil and exercises self-control is not only better qualified to be king but is able to live a much more pleasant life than those in the opposite case. 

Friendship, moreover, the good king holds to be the fairest and most sacred of his possessions, believing that the lack of means is not so shameful or perilous for a king as the lack of friends, and that he maintains his happy state, not so much by means of revenues and armies and his other sources of strength, as by the loyalty of his friends. 

For no one, of and by himself, is sufficient for a single one of even his own needs; and the more and greater the responsibilities of a king are, the greater is the number of co-workers that he needs, and the greater the loyalty required of them, since he is forced to entrust his greatest and most important interests to others or else to abandon them. 

Furthermore, the law protects the private individual from being easily wronged by men with whom he enters into business relations, either by entrusting them with money, or by making them agents of an estate, or by entering into partner­ship with them in some enterprise; and it does so by punishing the offender. A king, however, cannot look to the law for protection against betrayal of a trust, but must depend upon loyalty. 

Naturally, those who stand near the king and help him rule the country are the strongest, and from them he has no other protection than their love. Consequently, it is not a safe policy for him to share his power carelessly with the first men he meets; but the stronger he makes his friends, the stronger he becomes himself. 

Once more, necessary and useful possessions do not in all cases afford their owner some pleasure, nor does it follow that because a thing is pleasing it is also profitable. On the contrary, many pleasant things prove to be unprofitable. Fortifications, for example, arms, engines, and troops are possessions necessary for a ruler, since without them his authority cannot be maintained, but I do not see what gratification they afford—at least, apart from their utility; and on the other hand, beautiful parks, costly residences, statues, paintings in the exquisite early style, golden bowls, inlaid tables, purple robes, ivory, amber, perfumes, everything to delight the eye, delight­ful music, both vocal and instrumental, and besides these, beautiful maidens and handsome boys—all these evidently subserve no useful purpose whatever, but are obviously the inventions of pleasure. 

To friendship alone has it have been given to be both the most profitable of all and the most pleasurable of all. To illustrate: I presume that our greatest necessities, arms, walls, troops, and cities, without friends to control them, are neither useful nor profitable; nay, they are exceedingly precarious; while friends, even without these, are helpful. Besides, these things are useful in war only, while for men who are going to live in unbroken peace—if such a thing be possible—they are a useless burden. Without friendship, however, life is insecure even in peace. 

Once more, the pleasures I have mentioned afford more delight when shared with friends; to enjoy them in solitude is the dreariest thing imaginable, and no one could endure it. But it would be still more disagreeable if you had to share them with people who disliked you. Nay, what festivity could please unless the most important thing of all were at hand, what symposium could delight you if you lacked the good will of the guests? What sacrifice is acceptable to the gods without the participants in the feast? 

Indeed, are not even those love relations the pleasantest and least wanton which are based on the affection of the lovers, and which men whose object is good will experience in the society of boys or women? Many are the names applied to friendship just as its services undoubtedly are many; but where youth and beauty enter in, there friendship is rightly called love and is held to be the fairest of the gods. 

Again, salutary drugs are salutary to the sick, but of no use to the well. Of friendship, however, men stand ever in the greatest need, whether in health or in sickness: it helps to defend wealth and relieves poverty; it adds luster to fame and dims the glare of infamy. It is this alone that makes everything unpleasant seem less so and magnifies everything good. 

For what misfortune is not intolerable without friendship, and what gift of fortune does not lose its charm if friends be lacking? And although solitude is cheerless and of all things the most terrible, it is not the absence of men that we should consider as solitude, but the absence of friends; for often complete solitude is preferable to the presence of persons not well-disposed. 

For my part, I have never regarded even good fortune to be such if attended by no friend to rejoice with me, since the severest strokes of misfortune can more easily be borne with friends than the greatest good fortune without them. For with good right I judge that man most wretched who in misfortune has the largest number to gloat over him but in good fortune no one to rejoice with him. 

When a man has hosts of excellent friends and his foes are very few in number—if he has any foe at all—when he has many who love him, still more who admire him, and no one who can censure him, is he not perfectly happy? For such a man has multitudes to share his joy but not one to gloat over him in misfortune, and for this reason he is fortunate in all things, in that he has hosts of friends but not a single enemy. 

If eyes, ears, tongue, and hands are worth everything to a man that he may be able merely to live, to say nothing of enjoying life, then friends are not less but more useful than these members. With his eyes he may barely see what lies before his feet; but through his friends he may behold even that which is at the ends of the earth. With his ears he can hear nothing save that which is very near; but through those who wish him well he is without tidings of nothing of importance anywhere. With his tongue he communicates only with those who are in his presence, and with his hands, were he never so strong, he can not do the work of more than two men; but through his friends he can hold converse with all the world and accomplish every undertaking, since those who wish him well are saying and doing everything that is in his interest. 

The most surprising thing of all, however, is that he who is rich in friends is able, although but one man, to do a multiplicity of things at the same time, to deliberate about many matters simultaneously, to see many things, to hear many things, and to be in many places at once—a thing difficult even for the gods—with the result that there is nothing remaining anywhere that is bereft of his solicitude. 

Once more, the happy experiences of his friends are bound to delight a good man no less than some joy of his own. For is that man not most blessed who has many bodies with which to be happy when he experiences a pleasure, many souls with which to rejoice when he is fortunate And if glory be the high goal of the ambitious, he may achieve it many times over through the eulogies of his friends. If wealth naturally gladdens its possessor, he can be rich many times over who shares what he has with his friends. 

Then, too, while it is a pleasure to show favors to good men and true when one's means are ample, it is also a pleasure to receive gifts when they are deserved and for merit. Hence, he who shows his friends a favor rejoices both as giver and as receiver at the same time. Old, in sooth, is the proverb which says that "Common are the possessions of friends."​ Therefore, when the good have good things, these will certainly be held in common.