Essays & Fragments — Julian
===========================
Translation/edition: Wilmer Cave Wright
Language: English
Read in Plato Scroll: https://plato-scroll.com/s/julian-essays/
This file: https://plato-scroll.com/text/julian-essays.txt
Other editions of this work:
  - Greek text: https://plato-scroll.com/text/julian-essays-b.txt
Sources and licences: https://plato-scroll.com/attribution.html
Numbers in [brackets] are the edition's reference loci (Stephanus, Bekker, book.line, page...). Superscript numerals refer to the Notes at the end.


## Letter to Themistius the Philosopher

I earnestly desire to fulfil your hopes of me even as you express them in your letter, but I am afraid I shall fall short of them, since the expectations you have raised both in the minds of others, and still more in your own, are beyond my powers. There was a time when I believed that I ought to try to rival men who have been most distinguished for excellence, Alexander, for instance, or Marcus; but I shivered at the thought and was seized with terror lest 1 should fail entirely to come up to the courage of the former, and should not make even the least approach to the latter’s perfect virtue. With this in mind I convinced myself that I preferred a life of leisure, and I both gladly recalled the Attic manner of living, and thought myself to be in sweet accord with you who are my friends, just as those who carry heavy burdens lighten their labour by singing. But by your recent letter you have increased my fears, and you point to an enterprise in every way more difficult. You say that God has placed me in the same position as Heracles and Dionysus of old who, being at once philosophers and kings, purged almost the whole earth and sea of the evils that infested them. You bid me shake off all thought of leisure and inactivity that I may prove to be a good soldier worthy of so high a destiny. And besides those examples you go on to remind me of law-givers such as Solon, Pittacus, and Lycurgus, and you say that men have the right to expect from me now greater things than from any of these. When I read these words I was almost dumbfounded; for on the one hand I was sure that it was unlawful for you as a philosopher to flatter or deceive; on the other hand I am fully conscious that by nature there is nothing remarkable about me there never was from the first nor has there come to be now, but as regards philosophy I have only fallen in love with it (I say nothing of the fates that have intervened to make that love so far ineffectual). I could not tell therefore how I ought to interpret such expressions, until God brought it into my mind that perhaps by your very praises you wished to exhort me, and to point out how great are those trials to which a statesman must inevitably be exposed every day of his life.
But your method is more likely to discourage than to make one eager for such an existence. Suppose that a man were navigating your strait, and were finding even that none too easy or safe, and then suppose some professional soothsayer should tell him that he would have to traverse the Aegaean and then the Ionian Sea, and finally embark on the outer sea. “Here,” that prophet would say, “you see towns and harbours, but when you arrive there you will see not so much as a watch-tower or a rock, but you will be thankful to descry even a ship in the distance and to hail her crew. You will often pray to God that you may, however late, touch land and reach a harbour, though that were to be the last day of your life. You will pray to be allowed to bring home your ship safe and sound and restore your crew unscathed to their friends, and then to commit your body to mother earth. And this indeed may happen, but you will not be sure of it until that final day.” Do you think that such a man after being told all this would choose even to live in a sea-port town? Would he not bid adieu to money-making and all the advantages of commerce, and caring little for troops of friends and acquaintances abroad, and all that he might learn about nations and cities, would he not approve the wisdom of the son of Neocles who bids us “Live in obscurity”? Indeed, you apparently perceived this, and by your abuse of Epicurus you tried to forestall me and to eradicate beforehand any such purpose. For you go on to say that it was to be expected that so idle a man as he should commend leisure and conversations during walks. Now for my part I have long been firmly convinced that Epicurus was mistaken in that view of his, but whether it be proper to urge into public life any and every man, both him who lacks natural abilities and him who is not yet completely equipped, is a point that deserves the most careful consideration. We are told that Socrates dissuaded from the statesman’s profession many who had no great natural talent, and Glaucon too, Xenophon tells us; and that he tried to restrain the son of Cleinias also, but could not curb the youth’s impetuous ambition. Then shall we try to force into that career men who are reluctant and conscious of their deficiencies, and urge them to be self-confident about such great tasks? For in such matters not virtue alone or a wise policy is paramount, but to a far greater degree Fortune holds sway throughout and compels events to incline as she wills. Chrysippus indeed, though in other respects he seems a wise man and to have been rightly so esteemed, yet in ignoring fortune and chance and all other such external causes that fall in to block the path of men of affairs, he uttered paradoxes wholly at variance with facts about which the past teaches us clearly by countless examples. For instance, shall we call Cato a fortunate and happy man? Or shall we say that Dio of Sicily had a happy lot? It is true that for death they probably cared nothing, but they did care greatly about not leaving unfinished the undertakings which they had originally set on foot, and to secure that end there is nothing that they would not have endured. In that they were disappointed, and I admit that they bore their lot with great dignity, as we learn, and derived no small consolation from their virtue; but happy one could not call them, seeing that they had failed in all those noble enterprises, unless perhaps according to the Stoic conception of happiness. And with regard to that same Stoic conception we must admit that to be applauded and to be counted happy are two very different things, and that if every living thing naturally desires happiness, it is better to make it our aim to be congratulated on the score of happiness rather than to be applauded on the score of virtue. But happiness that depends on the chances of Fortune is very rarely secure. And yet men who are engaged in public life cannot, as the saying is, so much as breathe unless she is on their side . . . and they have created a merely verbal idea of a leader who is established somewhere above all the chances of Fortune in the sphere of things incorporeal and intelligible, just as men define the ideas, whether envisaging them truly or falsely imagining them. Or again they give us the ideal man, according to Diogenes “The man without a city, without a home, bereft of a fatherland,” that is to say, a man who can gain nothing from Fortune, and on the other hand has nothing to lose. But one whom we are in the habit of calling, as Homer did first, “The man to whom the people have been entrusted and so many cares belong,” how I ask shall we lead him beyond the reach of Fortune and keep his position secure? Then again, if he subject himself to Fortune, how great the provision he will think he must make, how great the prudence he must display so as to sustain with equanimity her variations in either direction, as a pilot must sustain the variations of the wind!
Yet it is nothing wonderful to withstand Fortune when she is merely hostile, but much more wonderful is it to show oneself worthy of the favours she bestows. By her favours the greatest of kings, the conqueror of Asia was ensnared, and showed himself more cruel and more insolent than Darius and Xerxes, after he had become the master of their empire. The shafts of her favours subdued and utterly destroyed the Persians, the Macedonians, the Athenian nation, Spartan magistrates, Roman generals, and countless absolute monarchs besides. It would be an endless business to enumerate all who have fallen victims to their wealth and victories and luxury. And as for those who, submerged by the tide of their misfortunes, from free men have become slaves, who have been humbled from their high estate after all their splendour and become poor and mean in the eyes of all men, what need now to go through the list of them as though I were copying it from a written record? Would that human life afforded no such instances! But it does not nor ever will lack such, so long as the race of man endures.
And to show that I am not the only one who thinks that Fortune has the upper hand in practical affairs, I will quote to you a passage from that admirable work the Laws of Plato. You know it well and indeed taught it to me, but I have set down the speech which runs something like this, and offer it as a proof that I am not really indolent. “God governs all things and with God Fortune and Opportunity govern all human affairs: but there is a milder view that Art must needs go with them and must be their associate.” He then indicates what must be the character of a man who is the craftsman and artificer of noble deeds and a divinely inspired king. Then he says: “Kronos therefore, as I have already related, knew that human nature when endowed with supreme authority is never in any case capable of managing human affairs without being filled with insolence and injustice; therefore, having regard to this he at that time set over our cities as kings and governors not men but beings of a more divine and higher race, I mean demons; thus doing as we do now for our flocks and domestic herds. We never appoint certain oxen to rule over other oxen or goats to rule over goats, but we are their masters, a race superior to theirs. In like manner then God, since he loves mankind, has set over us a race of beings superior to ourselves, the race of demons; and they with great ease both to themselves and us undertake the care of us and dispense peace, reverence, aye, and above all justice without stint, and thus they make the tribes of men harmonious and happy. And that account is a true one which declares that in our day all cities that are governed not by a god but by a mortal man have no relief from evils and hardships. And the lesson is that we ought by every means in our power to imitate that life which is said to have existed in the days of Kronos: and in so far as the principle of immortality is in us we ought to be guided by it in our management of public and private affairs, of our houses and cities, calling the distribution of mind ‘law.’ But whether the government be in the hands of one man or of an oligarchy or democracy, if it have a soul that hankers after pleasure and the lower appetites and demands to indulge these, and if such a one rule over a city or individual having first trampled on the laws, there is no means of salvation.”
I have purposely set down the whole of this speech for you lest you should think that I am cheating and defrauding by bringing forward ancient myths which may have some resemblance to the truth, but on the whole are not composed with regard to truth. But what is the true meaning of this narrative? You hear what it says, that even though a prince be by nature human, he must in his conduct be divine and a demi-god and must completely banish from his soul all that is mortal and brutish, except what must remain to safeguard the needs of the body. Now if, reflecting on this, one is afraid to be constrained to adopt a life from which so much is expected, do you therefore conclude that one admires the inaction recommended by Epicurus, the gardens and suburbs of Athens and its myrtles, or the humble home of Socrates? But never has anyone seen me prefer these to a life of toil. That toil of mine I would willingly recount to you, and the hazards that threatened me from my friends and kinsfolk at the time when I began to study under you, if you did not yourself know them well enough. You are well aware of what I did, in the first place, in Ionia in opposition to one who was related to me by ties of blood, but even more closely by ties of friendship, and that in behalf of a foreigner with whom I was very slightly acquainted, I mean the sophist. Did I not endure to leave the country for the sake of my friends? Indeed, you know how I took the part of Carterius when I went unsolicited to our friend Araxius to plead for him. And in behalf of the property of that admirable woman Arete and the wrongs she had suffered from her neighbours, did I not journey to Phrygia for the second time within two months, though I was physically very weak from the illness that had been brought on by former fatigues? Finally, before I went to Greece, while I was still with the army and running what most people would call the greatest possible risks, recall now what sort of letters I wrote to you, never filled with complaints or containing anything little or mean or servile. And when I returned to Greece, when everyone regarded me as an exile, did I not welcome my fate as though it were some high festival, and did I not say that the exchange to me was most delightful, and that, as the saying is, I had thereby gained “gold for bronze, the price of a hundred oxen for the price of nine”? So great was my joy at obtaining the chance to live in Greece instead of in my own home, though I possessed there no land or garden or the humblest house.
But perhaps you think that though I can bear adversity in the proper spirit, yet I show a poor and mean spirit towards the good gifts of Fortune, seeing that I prefer Athens to the pomp that now surrounds me; because, you will doubtless say, I approve the leisure of those days and disparage my present life because of the vast amount of work that the latter involves. But perhaps you ought to judge of me more accurately, and not consider the question whether I am idle or industrious, but rather the precept, “Know thyself,” and the saying, “Let every man practise the craft which he knows.”
To me, at any rate, it seems that the task of reigning is beyond human powers, and that a king needs a more divine character, as indeed Plato too used to say. And now I will write out a passage from Aristotle to the same effect, not “bringing owls to the Athenians,” but in order to show you that I do not entirely neglect his writings. In his political treatises he says: “Now even if one maintain the principle that it is best for cities to be governed by a king, how will it be about his children? Ought his children to succeed him? And yet if they prove to be no better than anybody else, that would be a bad thing for the city. But you may say, though he has the power he will not leave the succession to his children? It is difficult indeed to believe that he will not; for that would be too hard for him, and demands a virtue greater than belongs to human nature.” And later on, when he is describing a so-called king who rules according to law, and says that he is both the servant and guardian of the laws, he does not call him a king at all, nor does he consider such a king as a distinct form of government; and he goes on to say: “Now as for what is called absolute monarchy, that is to say, when a king governs all other men according to his own will, some people think that it is not in accordance with the nature of things for one man to have absolute authority over all the citizens; since those who are by nature equal must necessarily have the same rights.” Again, a little later he says: “It seems, therefore, that he who bids Reason rule is really preferring the rule of God and the laws, but he who bids man, rule, adds an element of the beast. For desire is a wild beast, and passion which warps even the best men. It follows, therefore, that law is Reason exempt from desire.” You see the philosopher seems here clearly to distrust and condemn human nature. For he says so in so many words when he asserts that human nature is in no case worthy of such an excess of fortune. For he thinks that it is too hard for one who is merely human to prefer the general weal of the citizens to his own children; he says that it is not just that one man should rule over many who are his equals; and, finally, he puts the finishing stroke to what he has just said when he asserts that “law is Reason exempt from desire,” and that political affairs ought to be entrusted to Reason alone, and not to any individual man whatever. For the reason that is in men, however good they may be, is entangled with passion and desire, those most ferocious monsters. These opinions, it seems to me, harmonise perfectly with Plato’s; first, that he who governs ought to be superior to his subjects and surpass them not only in his acquired habits but also in natural endowment; a thing which is not easy to find among men; . . . thirdly, that he ought by every means in his power to observe the laws, not those that were framed to meet some sudden emergency, or established, as now appears, by men whose lives were not wholly guided by reason; but he must observe them only in case the lawgiver, having purified his mind and soul, in enacting those laws keeps in view not merely the crimes of the moment or immediate contingencies; but rather recognises the nature of government and the essential nature of justice, and has carefully observed also the essential nature of guilt., and then applies to his task all the knowledge thus derived, and frames laws which have a general application to all the citizens without regard to friend or foe, neighbour or kinsman. And it is better that such a lawgiver should frame and promulgate his laws not for his contemporaries only but for posterity also, or for strangers with whom he neither has nor expects to have any private dealings. For instance, I hear that the wise Solon, having consulted his friends about the cancelling of debts, furnished them with an opportunity to make money, but brought on himself a disgraceful accusation. So hard is it to avoid such fatalities, even when a man brings a passionless mind to the task of governing.
And since this sort of thing is what I dread, it is natural that I should often dwell on the advantages of my previous mode of life, and I am but obeying you when I reflect that you said not only that I must emulate those famous men Solon, Lycurgus and Pittacus, but also that I must now quit the shades of philosophy for the open air. This is as though you had announced to a man who for his health’s sake and by exerting himself to the utmost was able to take moderate exercise at home: “Now you have come to Olympia and have exchanged the gymnasium in your house for the stadium of Zeus, where you will have for spectators Greeks who have come from all parts, and foremost among them your own fellow-citizens, on whose behalf you must enter the lists; and certain barbarians will be there also whom it is your duty to impress, showing them your fatherland in as formidable a light as lies in your power.” You would have disconcerted him at once and made him nervous before the games began. You may now suppose that I have been affected in the same manner by just such words from you. And you will very soon inform me whether my present view is correct, or whether I am in part deceived as to my proper course or whether indeed I am wholly mistaken.
But I should like to make clear to you the points in your letter by which I am puzzled, my dearest friend to whom I especially am bound to pay every honour: for I am eager to be more precisely informed about them. You said that you approve a life of action rather than the philosophic life, and you called to witness the wise Aristotle who defines happiness as virtuous activity, and discussing the difference between the statesman’s life and the life of contemplation, showed a certain hesitation about those lives, and though in others of his writings he preferred the contemplative life, in this place you say he approves the architects of noble actions. But it is you who assert that these are kings, whereas Aristotle does not speak in the sense of the words that you have introduced: and from what you have quoted one would rather infer the contrary. For when he says: “We most correctly use the word ‘act’ of those who are the architects of public affairs by virtue of their intelligence,” we must suppose that what he says applies to lawgivers and political philosophers and all whose activity consists in the use of intelligence and reason, but that it does not apply to those who do the work themselves and those who transact the business of politics. But in their case it is not enough that they should consider and devise and instruct others as to what must be done, but it is their duty to undertake and execute whatever the laws ordain and circumstances as well often force on them; unless indeed we call that man an architect who is “well versed in mighty deeds,” a phrase which Homer in his poems usually applies to Heracles, who was indeed of all men that ever lived most given to do the work himself.
But if we conceive this to be true, or that only those are happy who administer public affairs and who are in authority and rule over many, what then are we to say about Socrates? As for Pythagoras and Democritus and Anaxagoras of Clazomenae, you will perhaps say that they were happy in another sense of the word, because of their philosophic speculations. But as for Socrates who, having rejected the speculative life and embraced a life of action, had no authority over his own wife or his son, can we say of him that he governed even two or three of his fellow-citizens? Then will you assert that since he had no authority over any one he accomplished nothing? On the contrary I maintain that the son of Sophroniscus performed greater tasks than Alexander, for to him I ascribe the wisdom of Plato, the generalship of Xenophon, the fortitude of Antisthenes, the Eretrian and Megarian philosophies, Cebes, Simmias, Phaedo and a host of others; not to mention the offshoots derived from the same source, the Lyceum, the Stoa and the Academies. Who, I ask, ever found salvation through the conquests of Alexander? What city was ever more wisely governed because of them, what individual improved? Many indeed you might find whom those conquests enriched, but not one whom they made wiser or more temperate than he was by nature, if indeed they have not made him more insolent and arrogant. Whereas all who now find their salvation in philosophy owe it to Socrates. And I am not the only person to perceive this fact and to express it, for Aristotle it seems did so before me, when he said that he had just as much right to be proud of his treatise on the gods as the conqueror of the Persian empire. And I think he was perfectly correct in that conclusion. For military success is due to courage and good fortune more than anything else or, let us say, if you wish, to intelligence as well, though of the common everyday sort. But to conceive true opinions about God is an achievement that not only requires perfect virtue, but one might well hesitate whether it be proper to call one who attains to this a man or a god. For if the saying is true that it is the nature of everything to become known to those who have an affinity with it, then he who comes to know the essential nature of God would naturally be considered divine.
But since I seem to have harked back to the life of contemplation and to be comparing it with the life of action, though in the beginning of your letter you declined to make the comparison, I will remind you of those very philosophers whom you mentioned, Areius, Nicolaus, Thrasyllus, and Musonius. So far from any one of these governing his own city, Areius we are told refused the governorship of Egypt when it was offered to him, and Thrasyllus by becoming intimate with the harsh and naturally cruel tyrant Tiberius would have incurred indelible disgrace for all time, had he not cleared himself in the writings that he left behind him and so shown his true character; so little did his public career benefit him. Nicolaus did not personally do any great deeds, and he is known rather by his writings about such deeds; while Musonius became famous because he bore his sufferings with courage, and, by Zeus, sustained with firmness the cruelty of tyrants; and perhaps he was not less happy than those who administered great kingdoms. As for Areius, when he declined the governorship of Egypt he deliberately deprived himself of the highest end, if he really thought that this was the most important thing. And you yourself, may I ask, do you lead an inactive life because you are not a general or a public speaker and govern no nation or city? Nay, no one with any sense would say so. For it is in your power by producing many philosophers, or even only three or four, to confer more benefit on the lives of men than many kings put together. To no trivial province is the philosopher appointed, and, as you said yourself, he does not only direct counsels or public affairs, nor is his activity confined to mere words; but if he confirm his words by deeds and show himself to be such as he wishes others to be, he may be more convincing and more effective in making men act than those who urge them to noble actions by issuing commands.
But I must go back to what I said at the beginning, and conclude this letter, which is perhaps longer already than it should be. And the main point in it is that it is not because I would avoid hard work or pursue pleasure, nor because I am in love with idleness and ease that I am averse to spending my life in administration. But, as I said when I began, it is because I am conscious that I have neither sufficient training nor natural talents above the ordinary; moreover, I am afraid of bringing reproach on philosophy, which, much as I love it, I have never attained to, and which on other accounts has no very good reputation among men of our day. For these reasons I wrote all this down some time ago, and now I have freed myself from your charges as far as I can.
May God grant me the happiest fortune possible, and wisdom to match my fortune! For now I think I need assistance from God above all, and also from you philosophers by all means in your power, since I have proved myself your leader and champion in danger. But should it be that blessings greater than of my furnishing and than the opinion that I now have of myself should be granted to men by God through my instrumentality, you must not resent my words. For being conscious of no good thing in me, save this only, that I do not even think that I possess the highest talent, and indeed have naturally none, I cry aloud and testify that you must not expect great things of me, but must entrust everything to God. For thus I shall be free from responsibility for my shortcomings, and if everything turns out favourably I shall be discreet and moderate, not putting my name to the deeds of other men, but by giving God the glory for all, as is right, it is to Him that I shall myself feel gratitude and I urge all of you to feel the same.

## To the Senate and People of Athens

Many were the achievements of your forefathers of which you are still justly proud, even as they were of old; many were the trophies for victories raised by them, now for all Greece in common, now separately for Athens herself, in those days when she contended single-handed against all the rest of Greece as well as against the barbarian: but there was no achievement and no display of courage on your part so prodigious that other cities cannot in their turn rival it. For they too wrought some such deeds in alliance with you, and some on their own account. And that I may not by recalling these and then balancing them be thought either to pay more honour to one state than to another in the matters in which they are your rivals, or to praise less than they deserve those who proved inferior, in order to gain an advantage, after the manner of rhetoricians, I desire to bring forward on your behalf only this fact to which I can discover nothing that can be set against it on the part of the other Greek states, and which has been assigned to you by ancient tradition. When the Lacedaemonians were in power you took that power away from them not by violence but by your reputation for justice; and it was your laws that nurtured Aristides the Just. Moreover, brilliant as were these proofs of your virtue, you confirmed them by still more brilliant actions. For to be reputed just might perhaps happen to any individual even though it were not true; and perhaps it would not be surprising that among many worthless citizens there should be found one virtuous man. For even among the Medes is not a certain Deioces celebrated, and Abaris too among the Hyperboreans, and Anacharsis among the Scythians? And in their case the surprising thing was that, born as they were among nations who knew nothing of justice, they nevertheless prized justice, two of them sincerely, though the third only pretended to do so out of self-interest. But it would be hard to find a whole people and city enamoured of just deeds and just words except your own. And I wish to remind you of one out of very many such deeds done in your city. After the Persian war Themistocles was planning to introduce a resolution to set fire secretly to the naval arsenals of the Greeks, and then did not dare to propose it to the assembly; but he agreed to confide the secret to any one man whom the people should elect by vote; and the people chose Aristides to represent them. But he when he heard the scheme did not reveal what he had been told, but reported to the people that there could be nothing more profitable or more dishonest than that advice. Whereupon the city at once voted against it and rejected it, very nobly, by Zeus, and as it behoved men to do who are nurtured under the eyes of the most wise goddess.
Then if this was your conduct of old, and from that day to this there is kept alive some small spark as it were of the virtue of your ancestors, it is natural that you should pay attention not to the magnitude merely of any performance, nor whether a man has travelled over the earth with incredible speed and unwearied energy as though he had flown through the air; but that you should rather consider whether one has accomplished this feat by just means, and then if he seems to act with justice, you will perhaps all praise him both in public and private; but if he have slighted justice he will naturally be scorned by you. For there is nothing so closely akin to wisdom as justice. Therefore those who slight her you will justly expel as showing impiety towards the goddess who dwells among you. For this reason I wish to report my conduct to you, though indeed you know it well, in order that if there is anything you do not know — and it is likely that some things you do not, and those in fact which it is most important for all men to be aware of — it may become known to you and through you to the rest of the Greeks. Therefore let no one think that I am trifling and wasting words if I try to give some account of things that have happened as it were before the eyes of all men, not only long ago but also just lately. For I wish none to be ignorant of anything that concerns me, and naturally everyone cannot know every circumstance. First I will begin with my ancestors.
That on the father’s side I am descended from the same stock as Constantius on his father’s side is well known. Our fathers were brothers, sons of the same father. And close kinsmen as we were, how this most humane Emperor treated us! Six of my cousins and his, and my father who was his own uncle and also another uncle of both of us on the father’s side, and my eldest brother, he put to death without a trial; and as for me and my other brother, he intended to put us to death but finally inflicted exile upon us; and from that exile he released me, but him he stripped of the title of Caesar just before he murdered him. But why should I “recount,” as though from some tragedy, “all these unspeakable horrors?” For he has repented, I am told, and is stung by remorse; and he thinks that his unhappy state of childlessness is due to those deeds, and his ill success in the Persian war he also ascribes to that cause. This at least was the gossip of the court at the time and of those who were about the person of my brother Gallus of blessed memory, who is now for the first time so styled. For after putting him to death in defiance of the laws he neither suffered him to share the tombs of his ancestors nor granted him a pious memory.
As I said, they kept telling us and tried to convince us that Constantius had acted thus, partly because he was deceived, and partly because he yielded to the violence and tumult of an undisciplined and mutinous army. This was the strain they kept up to soothe us when we had been imprisoned in a certain farm in Cappadocia; and they allowed no one to come near us after they had summoned him from exile in Tralles and had dragged me from the schools, though I was still a mere boy. How shall I describe the six years we spent there? For we lived as though on the estate of a stranger, and were watched as though we were in some Persian garrison, since no stranger came to see us and not one of our old friends was allowed to visit us; so that we lived shut off from every liberal study and from all free intercourse, in a glittering servitude, and sharing the exercises of our own slaves as though they were comrades. For no companion of our own age ever came near us or was allowed to do so.
From that place barely and by the help of the gods I was set free, and for a happier fate; but my brother was imprisoned at court and his fate was ill-starred above all men who have ever yet lived. And indeed whatever cruelty or harshness was revealed in his disposition was increased by his having been brought up among those mountains. It is therefore I think only just that the Emperor should bear the blame for this also, he who against our will allotted to us that sort of bringing-up. As for me, the gods by means of philosophy caused me to remain untouched by it and unharmed; but on my brother no one bestowed this boon. For when he had come straight from the country to the court, the moment that Constantius had invested him with the purple robe he at once began to be jealous of him, nor did he cease from that feeling until, not content with stripping him of the purple, he had destroyed him. Yet surely he deserved to live, even if he seemed unfit to govern. But someone may say that it was necessary to deprive him of life also. I admit it, only on condition that he had first been allowed to speak in his own defence as criminals are. For surely it is not the case that the law forbids one who has imprisoned bandits to put them to death, but says that it is right to destroy without a trial those who have been stripped of the honours that they possessed and have become mere individuals instead of rulers. For what if my brother had been able to expose those who were responsible for his errors? For there had been handed to him the letters of certain persons, and, by Heracles, what accusations against himself they contained! And in his resentment at these he gave way in most unkingly fashion to uncontrolled anger, but he had done nothing to deserve being deprived of life itself. What! Is not this a universal law among all Greeks and barbarians alike, that one should defend oneself against those who take the initiative in doing one a wrong? I admit that he did perhaps defend himself with too great cruelty; but on the whole not more cruelly than might have been expected. For we have heard it said before that an enemy may be expected to harm one in a fit of anger. But it was to gratify a eunuch, his chamberlain who was also his chief cook, that Constantius gave over to his most inveterate enemies his own cousin, the Caesar, his sister’s husband, the father of his niece, the man whose own sister he had himself married in earlier days, and to whom he owed so many obligations connected with the gods of the family. As for me he reluctantly let me go, after dragging me hither and thither for seven whole months and keeping me under guard; so that had not some one of the gods desired that I should escape, and made the beautiful and virtuous Eusebia kindly disposed to me, I could not then have escaped from his hands myself. And yet I call the gods to witness that my brother had pursued his course of action without my having a sight of him even in a dream. For I was not with him, nor did I visit him or travel to his neighbourhood; and I used to write to him very seldom and on unimportant matters. Thinking therefore that I had escaped from that place, I set out for the house that had been my mother’s. For of my father’s estate nothing belonged to me, and I had acquired out of the great wealth that had naturally belonged to my father not the smallest clod of earth, not a slave, not a house. For the admirable Constantius had inherited in my place the whole of my father’s property, and to me, as I was saying, he granted not the least trifle of it; moreover, though he gave my brother a few things that had been his father’s, he robbed him of the whole of his mother’s estate.
Now his whole behaviour to me before he granted me that august title — though in fact what he did was to impose on me the most galling and irksome slavery — you have heard, if not every detail, still the greater part. As I was saying, I was on my way to my home and was barely getting away safely, beyond my hopes, when a certain sycophant turned up near Sirmium and fabricated the rumour against certain persons there that they were planning a revolt. You certainly know by hearsay Africanus and Marinus: nor can you fail to have heard of Felix and what was the fate of those men. And when Constantius was informed of the matter, and Dynamius another sycophant suddenly reported from Gaul that Silvanus was on the point of declaring himself his open enemy, in the utmost alarm and terror he forthwith sent to me, and first he bade me retire for a short time to Greece, then summoned me from there to the court again. He had never seen me before except once in Cappadocia and once in Italy, — an interview which Eusebia had secured by her exertions so that I might feel confidence about my personal safety. And yet I lived for six months in the same city as he did, and he had promised that he would see me again. But that execrable eunuch, his trusty chamberlain, unconsciously and involuntarily proved himself my benefactor. For he did not allow me to meet the Emperor often, nor perhaps did the latter desire it; still the eunuch was the chief reason. For what he dreaded was that if we had any intercourse with one another I might be taken into favour, and when my loyalty became evident I might be given some place of trust.
Now from the first moment of my arrival from Greece, Eusebia of blessed memory kept showing me the utmost kindness through the eunuchs of her household. And a little later when the Emperor returned — for the affair of Silvanus had been concluded — at last I was given access to the court, and, in the words of the proverb, Thessalian persuasion was applied to me. For when I firmly declined all intercourse with the palace, some of them, as though they had come together in a barber’s shop, cut off my beard and dressed me in a military cloak and transformed me into a highly ridiculous soldier, as they thought at the time. For none of the decorations of those villains suited me. And I walked not like them, staring about me and strutting along, but gazing on the ground as I had been trained to do by the preceptor who brought me up. At the time, then, I inspired their ridicule, but a little later their suspicion, and then their jealousy was inflamed to the utmost.
But this I must not omit to tell here, how I submitted and how I consented to dwell under the same roof with those whom I knew to have ruined my whole family, and who, I suspected, would before long plot against myself also. But what floods of tears I shed and what laments I uttered when I was summoned, stretching out my hands to your Acropolis and imploring Athene to save her suppliant and not to abandon me, many of you who were eyewitnesses can attest, and the goddess herself, above all others, is my witness that I even begged for death at her hands there in Athens rather than my journey to the Emperor. That the goddess accordingly did not betray her suppliant or abandon him she proved by the event. For everywhere she was my guide, and on all sides she set a watch near me, bringing guardian angels from Helios and Selene.
What happened was somewhat as follows. When I came to Milan I resided in one of the suburbs. Thither Eusebia sent me on several occasions messages of good-will, and urged me to write to her without hesitation about anything that I desired. Accordingly I wrote her a letter, or rather a petition containing vows like these: “May you have children to succeed you; may God grant you this and that, if only you send me home as quickly as possible!” But I suspected that it was not safe to send to the palace letters addressed to the Emperor’s wife. Therefore I besought the gods to inform me at night whether I ought to send the letter to the Empress. And they warned me that if I sent it I should meet the most ignominious death. I call all the gods to witness that what I write here is true. For this reason, therefore, I forbore to send the letter. But from that night there kept occurring to me an argument which it is perhaps worth your while also to hear. “Now,” I said to myself, “I am planning to oppose the gods, and I have imagined that I can devise wiser schemes for myself than those who know all things. And yet human wisdom, which looks only to the present moment, may be thankful if, with all its efforts, it succeed in avoiding mistakes even for a short space. That is why no man takes thought for things that are to happen thirty years hence, or for things that are already past, for the one is superfluous, the other impossible, but only for what lies near at hand and has already some beginnings and germs. But the wisdom of the gods sees very far, or rather, sees the whole, and therefore it directs aright and brings to pass what is best. For they are the causes of all that now is, and so likewise of all that is to be. Wherefore it is reasonable that they should have knowledge about the present.” So far, then, it seemed to me that on this reasoning my second determination was wiser than my first. And viewing the matter in the light of justice, I immediately reflected: “Would you not be provoked if one of your own beasts were to deprive you of its services, or were even to run away when you called it, a horse, or sheep, or calf, as the case might be? And will you, who pretended to be a man, and not even a man of the common herd or from the dregs of the people, but one belonging to the superior and reasonable class, deprive the gods of your service, and not trust yourself to them to dispose of you as they please? Beware lest you not only fall into great folly, but also neglect your proper duties towards the gods. Where is your courage, and of what sort is it? A sorry thing it seems. At any rate, you are ready to cringe and flatter from fear of death, and yet it is in your power to lay all that aside and leave it to the gods to work their will, dividing with them the care of yourself, as Socrates, for instance, chose to do: and you might, while doing such things as best you can, commit the whole to their charge; seek to possess nothing, seize nothing, but accept simply what is vouchsafed to you by them.” And this course I thought was not only safe but becoming to a reasonable man, since the response of the gods had suggested it. For to rush headlong into unseemly and foreseen danger while trying to avoid future plots seemed to me a topsy-turvy procedure. Accordingly I consented to yield. And immediately I was invested with the title and robe of Caesar. The slavery that ensued and the fear for my very life that hung over me every day, Heracles, how great it was, and how terrible! My doors locked, warders to guard them, the hands of my servants searched lest one of them should convey to me the most trifling letter from my friends, strange servants to wait on me! Only with difficulty was I able to bring with me to court four of my own domestics for my personal service, two of them mere boys and two older men, of whom only one knew of my attitude to the gods, and, as far as he was able, secretly joined me in their worship. I had entrusted with the care of my books, since he was the only one with me of many loyal comrades and friends, a certain physician who had been allowed to leave home with me because it was not known that he was my friend. And this state of things caused me such alarm and I was so apprehensive about it, that though many of my friends really wished to visit me, I very reluctantly refused them admittance; for though I was most anxious to see them, I shrank from bringing disaster upon them and myself at the same time. But this is somewhat foreign to my narrative. The following relates to the actual course of events.
Constantius gave me three hundred and sixty soldiers, and in the middle of the winter despatched me into Gaul, which was then in a state of great disorder; and I was sent not as commander of the garrisons there but rather as a subordinate of the generals there stationed. For letters had been sent them and express orders given that they were to watch me as vigilantly as they did the enemy, for fear I should attempt to cause a revolt. And when all this had happened in the manner I have described, about the summer solstice he allowed me to join the army and to carry about with me his dress and image. And indeed he had both said and written that he was not giving the Gauls a king but one who should convey to them his image.
Now when, as you have heard, the first campaign was ended that year and great advantage gained, I returned to winter quarters, and there I was exposed to the utmost danger. For I was not even allowed to assemble the troops; this power was entrusted to another, while I was quartered apart with only a few soldiers, and then, since the neighbouring towns begged for my assistance, I assigned to them the greater part of the force that I had, and so I myself was left isolated. This then was the condition of affairs at that time. And when the commander-in-chief of the forces fell under the suspicions of Constantius and was deprived by him of his command and superseded, I in my turn was thought to be by no means capable or talented as a general, merely because I had shown myself mild and moderate. For I thought I ought not to fight against my yoke or interfere with the general in command except when in some very dangerous undertaking I saw either that something was being overlooked, or that something was being attempted that ought never to have been attempted at all. But after certain persons had treated me with disrespect on one or two occasions, I decided that for the future I ought to show my own self-respect by keeping silence, and henceforth I contented myself with parading the imperial robe and the image. For I thought that to these at any rate I had been given a right.
After that, Constantius, thinking that there would be some improvement, but not that so great a transformation would take place in the affairs of Gaul, handed over to me in the beginning of spring the command of all the forces. And when the grain was ripe I took the field; for a great number of Germans had settled themselves with impunity near the towns they had sacked in Gaul. Now the number of the towns whose walls had been dismantled was about forty-five, without counting citadels and smaller forts. And the barbarians then controlled on our side of the Rhine the whole country that extends from its sources to the Ocean. Moreover those who were settled nearest to us were as much as three hundred stades from the banks of the Rhine, and a district three times as wide as that had been left a desert by their raids; so that the Gauls could not even pasture their cattle there. Then too there were certain cities deserted by their inhabitants, near which the barbarians were not yet encamped. This then was the condition of Gaul when I took it over. I recovered the city of Agrippina on the Rhine which had been taken about ten months earlier, and also the neighbouring fort of Argentoratum, near the foot-hills of the Vosges mountains, and there I engaged the enemy not ingloriously. It may be that the fame of that battle has reached even your ears. There though the gods gave into my hands as prisoner of war the king of the enemy, I did not begrudge Constantius the glory of that success. And yet though I was not allowed to triumph for it, I had it in my power to slay my enemy, and moreover I could have led him through the whole of Gaul and exhibited him to the cities, and thus have luxuriated as it were in the misfortunes of Chnodomar. I thought it my duty to do none of these things, but sent him at once to Constantius who was returning from the country of the Quadi and the Sarmatians. So it came about that, though I had done all the fighting and he had only travelled in those parts and held friendly intercourse with the tribes who dwell on the borders of the Danube, it was not I but he who triumphed.
Then followed the second and third years of that campaign, and by that time all the barbarians had been driven out of Gaul, most of the towns had been recovered, and a whole fleet of many ships had arrived from Britain. I had collected a fleet of six hundred ships, four hundred of which I had had built in less than ten months, and I brought them all into the Rhine, no slight achievement, on account of the neighbouring barbarians who kept attacking me. At least it seemed so impossible to Florentius that he had promised to pay the barbarians a fee of two thousand pounds weight of silver in return for a passage. Constantius when he learned this — for Florentius had informed him about the proposed payment — wrote to me to carry out the agreement, unless I thought it absolutely disgraceful. But how could it fail to be disgraceful when it seemed so even to Constantius, who was only too much in the habit of trying to conciliate the barbarians? However, no payment was made to them. Instead I marched against them, and since the gods protected me and were present to aid, I received the submission of part of the Salian tribe, and drove out the Chamavi and took many cattle and women and children. And I so terrified them all, and made them tremble at my approach that I immediately received hostages from them and secured a safe passage for my food supplies.
It would take too long to enumerate everything and to write down every detail of the task that I accomplished within four years. But to sum it all up: Three times, while I was still Caesar, I crossed the Rhine; twenty thousand persons who were held as captives on the further side of the Rhine I demanded and received back; in two battles and one siege I took captive ten thousand prisoners, and those not of unserviceable age but men in the prime of life; I sent to Constantius four levies of excellent infantry, three more of infantry not so good, and two very distinguished squadrons of cavalry. I have now with the help of the gods recovered all the towns, and by that time I had already recovered almost forty. I call Zeus and all the gods who protect cities and our race, to bear witness as to my behaviour towards Constantius and my loyalty to him, and that I behaved to him as I would have chosen that my own son should behave to me. I have paid him more honour than any Caesar has paid to any Emperor in the past. Indeed, to this very day he has no accusation to bring against me on that score, though I have been entirely frank in my dealings with him, but he invents absurd pretexts for his resentment. He says, “You have detained Lupicinus and three other men.” And supposing I had even put them to death after they had openly plotted against me, he ought for the sake of keeping peace to have renounced his resentment at their fate. But I did those men not the least injury, and I detained them because they are by nature quarrelsome and mischief-makers. And though I am spending large sums of the public money on them, I have robbed them of none of their property. Observe how Constantius really lays down the law that I ought to proceed to extremities with such men! For by his anger on behalf of men who are not related to him at all, does he not rebuke and ridicule me for my folly in having served so faithfully the murderer of my father, my brothers, my cousins; the executioner as it were of his and my whole family and kindred? Consider too with what deference I have continued to treat him even since I became Emperor, as is shown in my letters.
And how I behaved to him before that you shall now learn. Since I was well aware that whenever mistakes were made I alone should incur the disgrace and danger, though most of the work was carried on by others, I first of all implored him, if he had made up his mind to that course and was altogether determined to proclaim me Caesar, to give me good and able men to assist me He however at first gave me the vilest wretches. And when one, the most worthless of them, had very gladly accepted and no one of the others consented, he gave me with a bad grace an officer who was indeed excellent, Sallust, who on account of his virtue has at once fallen under his suspicion. And since I was not satisfied with such an arrangement and saw how his manner to them varied, for I observed that he trusted one of them too much and paid no attention at all to the other, I clasped his right hand and his knees and said: “I have no acquaintance with any of these men nor have had in the past. But I know them by report, and since you bid me I regard them as my comrades and friends and pay them as much respect as I would to old acquaintances. Nevertheless it is not just that my affair’s should be entrusted to them or that their fortunes should be hazarded with mine. What then is my petition? Give me some sort of written rules as to what I must avoid and what you entrust to me to perform. For it is clear that you will approve of him who obeys you and punish him who is disobedient, though indeed I am very sure that no one will disobey you.”
Now I need not mention the innovations that Pentadius at once tried to introduce. But I kept opposing him in everything and for that reason he became my enemy. Then Constantius chose another and a second and a third and fashioned them for his purpose, I mean Paul and Gaudentius, those notorious sycophants; he hired them to attack me and then took measures to remove Sallust, because he was my friend, and to appoint Lucilianus immediately, as his successor. And a little later Florentius also became my enemy on account of his avarice which I used to oppose. These men persuaded Constantius, who was perhaps already somewhat irritated by jealousy of my successes, to remove me altogether from command of the troops. And he wrote letters full of insults directed against me and threatening ruin to the Gauls. For he gave orders for the withdrawal from Gaul of, I might almost say, the whole of the most efficient troops without exception, and assigned this commission to Lupicinus and Gintonius, while to me he wrote that I must oppose them in nothing.
And now in what terms shall I describe to you the work of the gods? It was my intention, as they will bear me witness, to divest myself of all imperial splendour and state and remain in peace, taking no part whatever in affairs. But I waited for Florentius and Lupicinus to arrive; for the former was at Vienne, the latter in Britain. Meanwhile there was great excitement among the civilians and the troops, and someone wrote an anonymous letter to the town near where I was, addressed to the Petulantes and the Celts — those were the names of the legions — full of invectives against Constantius and of lamentations about his betrayal of the Gauls. Moreover the author of the letter lamented bitterly the disgrace inflicted on myself. This letter when it arrived provoked all those who were most definitely on the side of Constantius to urge me in the strongest terms to send away the troops at once, before similar letters could be scattered broadcast among the rest of the legions. And indeed there was no one there belonging to the party supposed to be friendly to me, but only Nebridius, Pentadius, and Decentius, the latter of whom had been despatched for this very purpose by Constantius. And when I replied that we ought to wait still longer for Lupicinus and Florentius, no one listened to me, but they all declared that we ought to do the very opposite, unless I wished to add this further proof and evidence for the suspicions that were already entertained about me. And they added this argument: “If you send away the troops now it will be regarded as your measure, but when the others come Constantius will give them not you the credit and you will be held to blame.” And so they persuaded or rather compelled me to write to him. For he alone may be said to be persuaded who has the power to refuse, but those who can use force have no need to persuade as well; then again where force is used there is no persuasion, but a man is the victim of necessity. Thereupon we discussed by which road, since there were two, the troops had better march. I preferred that they should take one of these, but they immediately compelled them to take the other, for fear that the other route if chosen should give rise to mutiny among the troops and cause some disturbance, and that then, when they had once begun to mutiny, they might throw all into confusion. Indeed such apprehension on their part seemed not altogether without grounds.
The legions arrived, and I, as was customary, went to meet them and exhorted them to continue their march. For one day they halted, and till that time I knew nothing whatever of what they had determined; I call to witness Zeus, Helios, Ares, Athene, and all the other gods that no such suspicion even entered my mind until that very evening. It was already late, when about sunset the news was brought to me, and suddenly the palace was surrounded and they all began to shout aloud, while I was still considering what I ought to do and feeling by no means confident. My wife was still alive and it happened, that in order to rest alone, I had gone to the upper room near hers. Then from there through an opening in the wall I prayed to Zeus. And when the shouting grew still louder and all was in a tumult in the palace I entreated the god to give me a sign; and thereupon he showed me a sign and bade me yield and not oppose myself to the will of the army. Nevertheless even after these tokens had been vouchsafed to me I did not yield without reluctance, but resisted as long as I could, and would not accept either the salutation or the diadem. But since I could not singlehanded control so many, and moreover the gods, who willed that this should happen, spurred on the soldiers and gradually softened my resolution, somewhere about the third hour some soldier or other gave me the collar and I put it on my head and returned to the palace, as the gods know groaning in my heart. And yet surely it was my duty to feel confidence and to trust in the god after he had shown me the sign; but I was terribly ashamed and ready to sink into the earth at the thought of not seeming to obey Constantius faithfully to the last.
Now since there was the greatest consternation in the palace, the friends of Constantius thought they would seize the occasion to contrive a plot against me without delay, and they distributed money to the soldiers, expecting one of two things, either that they would cause dissension between me and the troops, or no doubt that the latter would attack me openly. But when a certain officer belonging to those who commanded my wife’s escort perceived that this was being secretly contrived, he first reported it to me and then, when he saw that I paid no attention to him, he became frantic, and like one possessed he began to cry aloud before the people in the market-place, “Fellow soldiers, strangers, and citizens, do not abandon the Emperor!” Then the soldiers were inspired by a frenzy of rage and they all rushed to the palace under arms. And when they found me alive, in their delight, like men who meet friends whom they had not hoped to see again, they pressed round me on this side and on that, and embraced me and carried me on their shoulders. And it was a sight worth seeing, for they were like men seized with a divine frenzy. Then after they had surrounded me on all sides they demanded that I give up to them for punishment the friends of Constantius. What fierce opposition I had to fight down in my desire to save those persons is known to all the gods.
But further, how did I behave to Constantius after this? Even to this day I have not yet used in my letters to him the title which was bestowed on me by the gods, but I have always signed myself Caesar, and I have persuaded the soldiers to demand nothing more if only he would allow us to dwell peaceably in Gaul and would ratify what has been already done. All the legions with me sent letters to him praying that there might be harmony between us. But instead of this he let loose against us the barbarians, and among them proclaimed me his foe and paid them bribes so that the people of the Gauls might be laid waste; moreover he wrote to the forces in Italy and bade them be on their guard against any who should come from Gaul; and on the frontiers of Gaul in the cities near by he ordered to be got ready three million bushels of wheat which had been ground at Brigantia, and the same amount near the Cottian Alps, with the intention of marching to oppose me. These are not mere words but deeds that speak plain. In fact the letters that he wrote I obtained from the barbarians who brought them to me; and I seized the provisions that had been made ready, and the letters of Taurus. Besides, even now in his letters he addresses me as “Caesar” and declares that he will never make terms with me: but he sent one Epictetus, a bishop of Gaul, to offer a guarantee for my personal safety; and throughout his letters he keeps repeating that he will not take my life, but about my honour he says not a word. As for his oaths, for my part I think they should, as the proverb says, be written in ashes, so little do they inspire belief. But my honour I will not give up, partly out of regard for what is seemly and fitting, but also to secure the safety of my friends. And I have not yet described the cruelty that he is practising over the whole earth.
These then were the events that persuaded me; this was the conduct I thought just. And first I imparted it to the gods who see and hear all things. Then when I had offered sacrifices for my departure, the omens were favourable on that very day on which I was about to announce to the troops that they were to march to this place; and since it was not only on behalf of my own safety but far more for the sake of the general welfare and the freedom of all men and in particular of the people of Gaul, — for twice already he had betrayed them to the enemy and had not even spared the tombs of their ancestors, he who is so anxious to conciliate strangers! — then, I say, I thought that I ought to add to my forces certain very powerful tribes and to obtain supplies of money, which I had a perfect right to coin, both gold and silver. Moreover if even now he would welcome a reconciliation with me I would keep to what I at present possess; but if he should decide to go to war and will in no wise relent from his earlier purpose, then I ought to do and to suffer whatever is the will of the gods; seeing that it would be more disgraceful to show myself his inferior through failure of courage or lack of intelligence than in mere numbers. For if he now defeats me by force of numbers that will not be his doing, but will be due to the larger army that he has at his command. If on the other hand he had surprised me loitering in Gaul and clinging to bare life and, while I tried to avoid the danger, had attacked me on all sides, in the rear and on the flanks by means of the barbarians, and in front by his own legions, I should I believe have had to face complete ruin, and moreover the disgrace of such conduct is greater than any punishment — at least in the sight of the wise.
These then are the views, men of Athens, which I have communicated to my fellow soldiers and which I am now writing to the whole body of the citizens throughout all Greece. May the gods who decide all things vouchsafe me to the end the assistance which they have promised, and may they grant to Athens all possible favours at my hands! May she always have such Emperors as will honour her and love her above and beyond all other cities!

## Fragment of a Letter to a Priest

. . . . . Only that they chastise, then and there, any whom they see rebelling against their king. And the tribe of evil demons is appointed to punish those who do not worship the gods, and stung to madness by them many atheists are induced to court death in the belief that they will fly up to heaven when they have brought their lives to a violent end. Some men there are also who, though man is naturally a social and civilised being, seek out desert places instead of cities, since they have been given over to evil demons and are led by them into this hatred of their kind. And many of them have even devised fetters and stocks to wear; to such a degree does the evil demon to whom they have of their own accord given themselves abet them in all ways, after they have rebelled against the everlasting and saving gods. But on this subject what I have said is enough, and I will go back to the point at which I digressed.
Though just conduct in accordance with the laws of the state will evidently be the concern of the governors of cities, you in your turn will properly take care to exhort men not to transgress the laws of the gods, since those are sacred. Moreover, inasmuch as the life of a priest ought to be more holy than the political life, you must guide and instruct men to adopt it. And the better sort will naturally follow your guidance. Nay I pray that all men may, but at any rate I hope that those who are naturally good and upright will do so; for they will recognise that your teachings are peculiarly adapted to them.
You must above all exercise philanthropy, for from it result many other blessings, and moreover that choicest and greatest blessing of all, the good will of the gods. For just as those who are in agreement with their masters about their friendships and ambitions and loves are more kindly treated than their fellow slaves, so we must suppose that God, who naturally loves human beings, has more kindness for those men who love their fellows. Now philanthropy has many divisions and is of many kinds. For instance it is shown when men are punished in moderation with a view to the betterment of those punished, as schoolmasters punish children; and again in ministering to men’s needs, even as the gods minister to our own. You see all the blessings of the earth that they have granted to us, food of all sorts, and in an abundance that they have not granted to all other creatures put together. And since we were born naked they covered us with the hair of animals, and with things that grow in the ground and on trees. Nor were they content to do this simply or off-hand, as Moses bade men take coats of skins, but you see how numerous are the gifts of Athene the Craftswoman. What other animals use wine, or olive oil? Except indeed in cases where we let them share in these things, even though we do not share them with our fellowmen. What creature of the sea uses corn, what land animal uses things that grow in the sea? And I have not yet mentioned gold and bronze and iron, though in all these the gods have made us very rich; yet not to the end that we may bring reproach on them by disregarding the poor who go about in our midst, especially when they happen to be of good character — men for instance who have inherited no paternal estate, and are poor because in the greatness of their souls they have no desire for money. Now the crowd when they see such men blame the gods. However it is not the gods who are to blame for their poverty, but rather the insatiate greed of us men of property becomes the cause of this false conception of the gods among men, and besides of unjust blame of the gods. Of what use, I ask, is it for us to pray that God will rain gold on the poor as he did on the people of Rhodes? For even though this should come to pass, we should forthwith set our slaves underneath to catch it, and put out vessels everywhere, and drive off all comers so that we alone might seize upon the gifts of the gods meant for all in common. And anyone would naturally think it strange if we should ask for this, which is not in the nature of things, and is in every way unprofitable, while we do not do what is in our power. Who, I ask, ever became poor by giving to his neighbours? Indeed I myself, who have often given lavishly to those in need, have recovered my gifts again many times over at the hands of the gods, though I am a poor man of business; nor have I ever repented of that lavish giving. And of the present time I will say nothing, for it would be altogether irrational of me to compare the expenditure of private persons with that of an Emperor; but when I was myself still a private person I know that this happened to me many times. My grandmother’s estate for instance was kept for me untouched, though others had taken possession of it by violence, because from the little that I had I spent money on those in need and gave them a share.
We ought then to share our money with all men, but more generously with the good, and with the helpless and poor so as to suffice for their need. And I will assert, even though it be paradoxical to say so, that it would be a pious act to share our clothes and food even with the wicked. For it is to the humanity in a man that we give, and not to his moral character. Hence I think that even those who are shut up in prison have a right to the same sort of care; since this kind of philanthropy will not hinder justice. For when many have been shut up in prison to await trial, of whom some will be found guilty, while others will prove to be innocent, it would be harsh indeed if out of regard for the guiltless we should not bestow some pity on the guilty also, or again, if on account of the guilty we should behave ruthlessly and inhumanly to those also who have done no wrong. This too, when I consider it, seems to me altogether wrong; I mean that we call Zeus by the title “God of Strangers,” while we show ourselves more inhospitable to strangers than are the very Scythians. How, I ask, can one who wishes to sacrifice to Zeus, the God of Strangers, even approach his temple? With what conscience can he do so, when he has forgotten the saying “From Zeus come all beggars and strangers; and a gift is precious though small”?
Again, the man who worships Zeus the God of Comrades, and who, though he sees his neighbours in need of money, does not give them even so much as a drachma, how, I say, can he think that he is worshipping Zeus aright? When I observe this I am wholly amazed, since I see that these titles of the gods are from the beginning of the world their express images, yet in our practice we pay no attention to anything of the sort. The gods are called by us “gods of kindred,” and Zeus the “God of Kindred,” but we treat our kinsmen as though they were strangers. I say “kinsmen” because every man, whether he will or no, is akin to every other man, whether it be true, as some say, that we are all descended from one man and one woman, or whether it came about in some other way, and the gods created us all together, at the first when the world began, not one man and one woman only, but many men and many women at once. For they who had the power to create one man and one woman, were able to create many men and women at once; since the manner of creating one man and one woman is the same as that of creating many men and many women. And one must have regard to the differences in our habits and laws, or still more to that which is higher and more precious and more authoritative, I mean the sacred tradition of the gods which has been handed down to us by the theurgists of earlier days, namely that when Zeus was setting all things in order there fell from him drops of sacred blood, and from them, as they say, arose the race of men. It follows therefore that we are all kinsmen, whether, many men and women as we are, we come from two human beings, or whether, as the gods tell us, and as we ought to believe, since facts bear witness thereto, we are all descended from the gods. And that facts bear witness that many men came into the world at once, I shall maintain elsewhere, and precisely, but for the moment it will be enough to say this much, that if we were descended from one man and one woman, it is not likely that our laws would show such great divergence; nor in any case is it likely that the whole earth was filled with people by one man; nay, not even if the women used to bear many children at a time to their husbands, like swine. But when the gods all together had given birth to men, just as one man came forth, so in like manner came forth many men who had been allotted to the gods who rule over births; and they brought them forth, receiving their souls from the Demiurge from eternity.
It is proper also to bear in mind how many discourses have been devoted by men in the past to show that man is by nature a social animal. And shall we, after asserting this and enjoining it, bear ourselves unsociably to our neighbours? Then let everyone make the basis of his conduct moral virtues, and actions like these, namely reverence towards the gods, benevolence towards men, personal chastity; and thus let him abound in pious acts, I mean by endeavouring always to have pious thoughts about the gods, and by regarding the temples and images of the gods with due honour and veneration, and by worshipping the gods as though he saw them actually present. For our fathers established images and altars, and the maintenance of undying fire, and, generally speaking, everything of the sort, as symbols of the presence of the gods, not that we may regard such things as gods, but that we may worship the gods through them. For since being in the body it was in bodily wise that we must needs perform our service to the gods also, though they are themselves without bodies; they therefore revealed to us in the earliest images the class of gods next in rank to the first, even those that revolve in a circle about the whole heavens. But since not even to these can due worship be offered in bodily wise — for they are by nature not in need of anything — another class of images was invented on the earth, and by performing our worship to them we shall make the gods propitious to ourselves. For just as those who make offerings to the statues of the emperors, who are in need of nothing, nevertheless induce goodwill towards themselves thereby, so too those who make offerings to the images of the gods, though the gods need nothing, do nevertheless thereby persuade them to help and to care for them. For zeal to do all that is in one’s power is, in truth, a proof of piety, and it is evident that he who abounds in such zeal thereby displays a higher degree of piety; whereas he who neglects what is possible, and then pretends to aim at what is impossible, evidently does not strive after the impossible, since he overlooks the possible. For even though God stands in need of nothing, it does not follow that on that account nothing ought to be offered to him. He does not need the reverence that is paid in words. What then? Is it rational to deprive him of this also? By no means. It follows then that one ought not to deprive him either of the honour that is paid to him through deeds, an honour which not three years or three thousand years have ordained, but all past time among all the nations of the earth.
Therefore, when we look at the images of the gods, let us not indeed think they are stones or wood, but neither let us think they are the gods themselves; and indeed we do not say that the statues of the emperors are mere wood and stone and bronze, but still less do we say they are the emperors themselves. He therefore who loves the emperor delights to see the emperor’s statue, and he who loves his son delights to see his son’s statue, and he who loves his father delights to see his father’s statue. It follows that he who loves the gods delights to gaze on the images of the gods, and their likenesses, and he feels reverence and shudders with awe of the gods who look at him from the unseen world. Therefore if any man thinks that because they have once been called likenesses of the gods, they are incapable of being destroyed, he is, it seems to me, altogether foolish; for surely in that case they were incapable of being made by men’s hands. But what has been made by a wise and good man can be destroyed by a bad and ignorant man. But those beings which were fashioned by the gods as the living images of their invisible nature, I mean the gods who revolve in a circle in the heavens, abide imperishable for all time. Therefore let no man disbelieve in gods because he sees and hears that certain persons have profaned their images and temples. Have they not in many cases put good men to death, like Socrates and Dio and the great Empedotimus? And yet I am very sure that the gods cared more for these men than for the temples. But observe that since they knew that the bodies even of these men were destructible, they allowed them to yield to nature and to submit, but later on they exacted punishment from their slayers; and this has happened in the sight of all, in our own day also, in the case of all who have profaned the temples.
Therefore let no man deceive us with his sayings or trouble our faith in a divine providence. For as for those who make such profanation a reproach against us, I mean the prophets of the Jews, what have they to say about their own temple, which was overthrown three times and even now is not being raised up again? This I mention not as a reproach against them, for I myself, after so great a lapse of time, intended to restore it, in honour of the god whose name has been associated with it. But in the present case I have used this instance because I wish to prove that nothing made by man can be indestructible, and that those prophets who wrote such statements were uttering nonsense, due to their gossipping with silly old women. In my opinion there is no reason why their god should not be a mighty god, even though he does not happen to have wise prophets or interpreters. But the real reason why they are not wise is that they have not submitted their souls to be cleansed by the regular course of study, nor have they allowed those studies to open their tightly closed eyes, and to clear away the mist that hangs over them. But since these men see as it were a great light through a fog, not plainly or clearly, and since they think that what they see is not a pure light but a fire, and they fail to discern all that surrounds it, they cry with a loud voice: “Tremble, be afraid, fire, flame, death, a dagger, a broad-sword!” thus describing under many names the harmful might of fire. But on this subject it will be better to demonstrate separately how much inferior to our own poets are these teachers of tales about the gods.
It is our duty to adore not only the images of the gods, but also their temples and sacred precincts and altars. And it is reasonable to honour the priests also as officials and servants of the gods; and because they minister to us what concerns the gods, and they lend strength to the gods’ gift of good things to us; for they sacrifice and pray on behalf of all men. It it therefore right that we should pay them all not less, if not indeed more, than the honours that we pay to the magistrates of the state. And if any one thinks that we ought to assign equal honours to them and to the magistrates of the state, since the latter also are in some sort dedicated to the service of the gods, as being guardians of the laws, nevertheless we ought at any rate to give the priests a far greater share of our good will. The Achaeans, for instance, enjoined on their king to reverence the priest, though he was one of the enemy, whereas we do not even reverence the priests who are our friends, and who pray and sacrifice on our behalf.
But since my discourse has come back again to the beginning as I have so long wished, I think it is worth while for me to describe next in order what sort of man a priest ought to be, in order that he may justly be honoured himself and may cause the gods to be honoured. For as for us, we ought not to investigate or enquire as to his conduct, but so long as a man is called a priest we ought to honour and cherish him, but if he prove to be wicked we ought to allow his priestly office to be taken away from him, since he has shown himself unworthy of it. But so long as he sacrifices for us and makes offerings and stands in the presence of the gods, we must regard him with respect and reverence as the most highly honoured chattel of the gods. For it would be absurd for us to pay respect to the very stones of which the altars are made, on account of their being dedicated to the gods, because they have a certain shape and form suited to the ritual for which they have been fashioned, and then not to think that we ought to honour a man who has been dedicated to the gods. Perhaps someone will object— “But suppose he does wrong and often fails to offer to the gods their sacred rites?” Then indeed I answer that we ought to convict a man of that sort, so that he may not by his wickedness offend the gods; but that we ought not to dishonour him until he has been convicted. Nor indeed is it reasonable that when we have set our hands to this business, we should take away their honour not only from these offenders but also from those who are worthy to be honoured. Then let every priest, like every magistrate, be treated with respect, since there is also an oracle to that effect from the Didymaean god: “As for men who with reckless minds work wickedness against the priests of the deathless gods and plot against their privileges with plans that fear not the gods, never shall such men travel life’s path to the end, men who have sinned against the blessed gods whose honour and holy service those priests have in charge.” And again in another oracle the god says: “All my servants from harmful mischief —— ;” and he says that on their behalf he will inflict punishment on the aggressors.
Now though there are many utterances of the god to the same effect, by means of which we may learn to honour and cherish priests as we ought, I shall speak on this subject elsewhere at greater length. But for the present it is enough to point out that 1 am not inventing anything offhand, since I think that the declaration made by the god and the injunction expressed in his own words are sufficient. Therefore let any man who considers that as a teacher of such matters I am worthy to be believed show due respect to the god and obey him, and honour the priests of the gods above all other men. And now I will try to describe what sort of man a priest himself ought to be, though not for your especial benefit. For if I did not already know from the evidence both of the high priest and of the most mighty gods that you administer this priestly office aright — at least all matters that come under your management — I should not have ventured to confide to you a matter so important. But I do so in order that you may be able from what I say to instruct the other priests, not only in the cities but in the country districts also, more convincingly and with complete freedom; since not of your own self do you alone devise these precepts and practise them, but you have me also to give you support, who by the grace of the gods am known as sovereign pontiff, though I am indeed by no means worthy of so high an office; though I desire, and moreover constantly pray to the gods that I may be worthy. For the gods, you must know, hold out great hopes for us after death; and we must believe them absolutely. For they are always truthful, not only about the future life, but about the affairs of this life also. And since in the superabundance of their power they are able both to overcome the confusion that exists in this life and to regulate its disorders and irregularities, will they not all the more in that other life where conflicting things are reconciled, after the immortal soul has been separated from the body and the lifeless body has turned to earth, be able to bestow all those things for which they have held out hopes to mankind? Therefore since we know that the gods have granted to their priests a great’ recompense, let us make them responsible in all things for men’s esteem of the gods, displaying their own lives as an example of what they ought to preach to the people.
The first thing we ought to preach is reverence towards the gods. For it is fitting that we should perform our service to the gods as though they were themselves present with us and beheld us, and though not seen by us could direct their gaze, which is more powerful than any light, even as far as our hidden thoughts. And this saying is not my own but the god’s, and has been declared in many utterances, but for me surely it is sufficient, by bringing forth one such utterance, to illustrate two things in one, namely how the gods see all things and how they rejoice in god-fearing men: “On all sides extend the far-seeing rays of Phoebus. His swift gaze pierces even through sturdy rocks, and travels through the dark blue sea, nor is he unaware of the starry multitude that passes in returning circuit through the unwearied heavens for ever by the statutes of necessity; nor of all the tribes of the dead in the underworld whom Tartarus has admitted within the misty dwelling of Hades, beneath the western darkness. And I delight in god-fearing men as much even as in Olympus.”
Now in so far as all soul, but in a much higher degree the soul of man, is akin to and related to the gods, so much the more is it likely that the gaze of the gods should penetrate through his soul easily and effectively. And observe the love of the god for mankind when he says that he delights in the disposition of god-fearing men as much as in Olympus most pure and bright. How then shall he not lead up our souls from the darkness and from Tartarus, if we approach him with pious awe? And indeed he has knowledge even of those who have been imprisoned in Tartarus — for not even that region falls outside the power of the gods, — and to the godfearing he promises Olympus instead of Tartarus. Wherefore we ought by all means to hold fast to deeds of piety, approaching the gods with reverence, and neither saying nor listening to anything base. And the priests ought to keep themselves pure not only from impure or shameful acts, but also from uttering words and hearing speeches of that character. Accordingly we must banish all offensive jests and all licentious intercourse. And that you may understand what I mean by this, let no one who has been consecrated a priest read either Archilochus or Hipponax or anyone else who writes such poems as theirs. And in Old Comedy let him avoid everything of that type — for it is better so — and indeed on all accounts philosophy alone will be appropriate for us priests; and of philosophers only those who chose the gods as guides of their mental discipline, like Pythagoras and Plato and Aristotle, and the school of Chrysippus and Zeno. For we ought not to give heed to them all nor to the doctrines of all, but only to those philosophers and those of their doctrines that make men god-fearing, and teach concerning the gods, first that they exist, secondly that they concern themselves with the things of this world, and further that they do no injury at all either to mankind or to one another, out of jealousy or envy or enmity. I mean the sort of thing our poets in the first place have brought themselves into disrepute by writing, and in the second place such tales as the prophets of the Jews take pains to invent, and are admired for so doing by those miserable men who have attached themselves to the Galilaeans.
But for us it will be appropriate to read such narratives as have been composed about deeds that have actually been done; but we must avoid all fictions in the form of narrative such as were circulated among men in the past, for instance tales whose theme is love, and generally speaking everything of that sort. For just as not every road is suitable for consecrated priests, but the roads they travel ought to be duly assigned, so not every sort of reading is suitable for a priest. For words breed a certain sort of disposition in the soul, and little by little it arouses desires, and then on a sudden kindles a terrible blaze, against which one ought, in my opinion, to arm oneself well in advance.
Let us not admit discourses by Epicurus or Pyrrho; but indeed the gods have already in their wisdom destroyed their works, so that most of their books have ceased to be. Nevertheless there is no reason why I should not, by way of example, mention these works too, to show what sort of discourses priests must especially avoid; and if such discourses, then much more must they avoid such thoughts. For an error of speech is, in my opinion, by no means the same as an error of the mind, but we ought to give heed to the mind first of all, since the tongue sins in company with it. We ought to learn by heart the hymns in honour of the gods — and many and beautiful they are, composed by men of old and of our own time — though indeed we ought to try to know also those which are being sung in the temples. For the greater number were bestowed on us by the gods themselves, in answer to prayer, though some few also were written by men, and were composed in honour of the gods by the aid of divine inspiration and a soul inaccessible to things evil.
All this, at least, we ought to study to do, and we ought also to pray often to the gods, both in private and in public, if possible three times a day, but if not so often, certainly at dawn and in the evening. For it is not meet that a consecrated priest should pass a day or a night without sacrifice; and dawn is the beginning of the day as twilight is of the night. And it is proper to begin both periods with sacrifice to the gods, even when we happen not to be assigned to perform the service. For it is our duty to maintain all the ritual of the temples that the law of our fathers prescribes, and we ought to perform neither more nor less than that ritual; for eternal are the gods, so that we too ought to imitate their essential nature in order that thereby we may make them propitious.
Now if we were pure soul alone, and our bodies did not hinder us in any respect, it would be well to prescribe one sort of life for priests. But since what he should practise when on duty concerns the individual priest alone, not priests absolutely, what should we concede to a man who has received the office of priest, on occasions when he is not actually engaged in service in the temples? I think that a priest ought to keep himself pure from all contamination, for a night and a day, and then after purifying himself for another night following on the first, with such rites of purification as the sacred laws prescribe, he should under these conditions enter the temple and remain there for as many days as the law commands. (Thirty is the number with us at Rome, but in other places the number varies.) It is proper then, I think, that he should remain throughout all these days in the sacred precincts, devoting himself to philosophy, and that he should not enter a house or a marketplace, or see even a magistrate, except in the precincts, but should concern himself with his service to the god, overseeing and arranging everything in person; and then, when he has completed the term of days, he should retire from his office in favour of another. And when he turns again to the ordinary life of mankind, he may be allowed to visit a friend’s house, and, when invited, to attend a feast, but not on the invitation of all but only of persons of the highest character. And at this time there would be nothing out of the way in his going occasionally to the market-place and conversing with the governor or the chief magistrate of his tribe, and giving aid, as far as lies in his power, to those who have a good reason for needing it.
And it is in my opinion fitting for priests to wear the most magnificent dress when they are within the temple performing the services, but when they are outside the sacred precincts to wear ordinary dress, without any extravagance. For it is not rational that we should misuse, in empty conceit and vain ostentation, what has been given to us for the honour of the gods. And for this reason we ought in the market place to abstain from too costly dress and from outward show, and in a word from every sort of pretentiousness. For consider how the gods, because they admired the perfect moderation of Amphiaraus, after they had decreed the destruction of that famous army — and he, though he knew that it would be so, went with the expedition and therefore did not escape his fated end, — the gods I say transformed him completely from what he had been, and removed him to the sphere of the gods. For all the others who were in the expedition against Thebes engraved a device on their shields before they had conquered the enemy, and erected trophies to celebrate the downfall of the Cadmeans; but he, the associate of the gods, when he went to war had arms with no device; but gentleness he had, and moderation, as even the enemy bore witness. Hence I think that we priests ought to show moderation in our dress, in order that we may win the goodwill of the gods, since it is no slight offence that we commit against them when we wear in public the sacred dress and make it public property, and in a word give all men an opportunity to stare at it as though it were something marvellous. For whenever this happens, many who are not purified come near us, and by this means the symbols of the gods are polluted. Moreover what lawlessness it is, what arrogance towards the gods for us ourselves when we are not living the priestly life to wear the priestly dress! However, of this too I shall speak more particularly in another place; and what I am writing to you at the moment is only a mere outline of the subject.
No priest must anywhere be present at the licentious theatrical shows of the present day, nor introduce one into his own house; for that is altogether unfitting. Indeed if it were possible to banish such shows absolutely from the theatres so as to restore to Dionysus those theatres pure as of old, I should certainly have endeavoured with all my heart to bring this about; but as it is, since I thought that this is impossible, and that even if it should prove to be possible it would not on other accounts be expedient, I forebore entirely from this ambition. But I do demand that priests should withdraw themselves from the licentiousness of the theatres and leave them to the crowd. Therefore let no priest enter a theatre or have an actor or a chariot-driver for his friend; and let no dancer or mime even approach his door. And as for the sacred games, I permit anyone who will to attend those only in which women are forbidden not only to compete but even to be spectators. With regard to the hunting shows with dogs which are performed in the cities inside the theatres, need I say that not only priests but even the sons of priests must keep away from them?
Now it would perhaps have been well to say earlier from what class of men and by what method priests must be appointed; but it is quite appropriate that my remarks should end with this. I say that the most upright men in every city, by preference those who show most love for the gods, and next those who show most love for their fellow men, must be appointed, whether they be poor or rich. And in this matter let there be no distinction whatever whether they are unknown or well known. For the man who by reason of his gentleness has not won notice ought not to be barred by reason of his want of fame. Even though he be poor and a man of the people, if he possess within himself these two things, love for God and love for his fellow men, let him be appointed priest. And a proof of his love for God is his inducing his own people to show reverence to the gods; a proof of his love for his fellows is his sharing cheerfully, even from a small store, with those in need, and his giving willingly thereof, and trying to do good to as many men as he is able.
We must pay especial attention to this point, and by this means effect a cure. For when it came about that the poor were neglected and overlooked by the priests, then I think the impious Galilaeans observed this fact and devoted themselves to philanthropy. And they have gained ascendancy in the worst of their deeds through the credit they win for such practices. For just as those who entice children with a cake, and by throwing it to them two or three times induce them to follow them, and then, when they are far away from their friends cast them on board a ship and sell them as slaves, and that which for the moment seemed sweet, proves to be bitter for all the rest of their lives — by the same method, I say, the Galilaeans also begin with their so-called love-feast, or hospitality, or service of tables, — for they have many ways of carrying it out and hence call it by many names, — and the result is that they have led very many into atheism. . . . .

## Epigrams


## 1. On wine made from barley

Who art thou and whence, O Dionysus? By the true Bacchus I recognise thee not; I know only the son of Zeus. He smells of nectar, but you smell of goat. Truly it was in their lack of grapes that the Celts brewed thee from corn-ears. So we should call thee Demetrius, not Dionysus, wheat-born not fire-born, barley god not boisterous god.
Palatine Anthology 9. 365, and in several MSS.

## 2. On the Organ

A strange growth of reeds do I behold. Surely they sprang on a sudden from another brazen field, so wild are they. The winds that wave them are none of ours, but a blast leaps forth from a cavern of bull’s hide and beneath the well-bored pipes travels to their roots. And a dignified person, with swift moving fingers of the hand, stands there and handles the keys that pass the -word to the pipes; then the keys leap lightly, and press forth the melody.
The Greek Anthology vol. 3, 365, Paton; it is found in Parisinus 690.

## 3. Riddle on a performer with a pole

There is a tree between the lords, whose root has life and talks, and the fruits likewise. And in a single hour it grows in strange fashion, and ripens its fruit, and gets its harvest at the roots.
Palatine Anthology vol. 2. p. 769.

## 4. On the Homeric hexameter which contains six feet of which three are dactyls

“The daughter of Icarius, prudent Penelope,” appears with three fingers and walks on six feet.
Anthology 2. 659.

## 5. To a Hippocentaur

A horse has been poured from a man’s mould, a man springs up from a horse. The man has no feet, the swift moving horse has no head. The horse belches forth as a man, the man breaks wind as a horse.
Assigned to Julian by Tzetzes Chiliades 959; Anthology, vol. 2, p. 659.

## 6. By Julian the Apostate

Even as Fate the Sweeper wills to sweep thee on, be thou swept. But if thou rebel, thou wilt but harm thyself, and Fate still sweeps thee on.
First ascribed to Julian, from Baroccianus 133, by Cumont, Revue de Philologie, 1892. Also ascribed to St. Basil; cf. a similar epigram in Palatine Anthology 10. 73, ascribed to Palladas.

## Fragments

Such things have often happened and still happen, and how can these be signs of the end of the world?
Neumann frag. 3; from Julian, Book 2, derived from Cyril, Book 12. Quoted by Theodorus, bishop of Mopsuestia, in his Commentary on the New Testament. Neumann thinks that Theodorus probably wrote a refutation of Julian at Antioch about 378 A.D.
Moses after fasting forty days received the law, and Elijah, after fasting for the same period, was granted to see God face to face. But what did Jesus receive, after a fast of the same length?
Neumann frag. 4; from the same source as 1.
And how could he lead Jesus to the pinnacle of the Temple when Jesus was in the wilderness?
Neumann frag. 6. From the same source as 1 and 2.
Furthermore, jesus prays in such language as would be used by a pitiful wretch who cannot bear misfortune with serenity, and though he is a god is reassured by an angel. And who told you, Luke, the story of the angel, if indeed this ever happened? For those who were there when he prayed could not see the angel; for they were asleep. Therefore when Jesus came from his prayer he found them fallen asleep from their grief and he said: “Why do ye sleep? Arise and pray,” and so forth. And then, “And while he was yet speaking, behold a multitude and Judas.” That is why John did not write about the angel, for neither did he see it.
Neumann frag. 7. From the same source as 3.
Listen to a fine statesmanlike piece of advice: “Sell that ye have and give to the poor; provide yourselves with bags which wax not old.” Can anyone quote a more statesmanlike ordinance than this? For if all men were to obey you who would there be to buy? Can anyone praise this teaching when, if it be carried out, no city, no nation, not a single family will hold together? For, if everything has been sold, how can any house or family be of any value? Moreover the fact that if everything in the city were being sold at once there would be no one to trade is obvious, without being mentioned.
Neumann, frag. 12. From Cyril, Book 18, quoted by Photius.
How DID the Word of God take away sin, when it caused many to commit the sin of killing their fathers, and many their children? And mankind are compelled either to uphold their ancestral customs and to cling to the pious tradition that they have inherited from the ages or to accept this innovation. Is not this true of Moses also, who came to take away sin, but has been detected increasing the number of sins?
Not in Neumann; reconstructed by him from the polemical writings of Archbishop Arethas of Caesarea who wrote in refutation of Julian in the tenth century. First published by Cuinont, Recherches sur la tradition manuscrite de l’empereur Julien, Brussels, 1898. Neumann’s reconstruction is in Theologische Litteraturzeitung, 10. 1899.
The words that were written concerning Israel Matthew the Evangelist transferred to Christ, that he might mock the simplicity of those of the Gentiles who believed.
Neumann frag. 15. Preserved by the fifth century writer Hieronymus in his Latin Commentary on Hosea 3. 11.