Letters

of an ancient codex from the Royal Library notes that this book is a eulogy of baldness. Anyone who has read it will deservedly admit that this doubt was rightly posed to Synesius. ^A And he contributes advantage, for whatever I may secretly grant him; and I have contributed much from the main portion to him. If, then, it seems good to you also, share the account with the Greeks; but if it is rejected, let it return to the one who sent it. For they say that apes, when they have given birth, gaze upon their infants as if they were statues, delighting in their beauty. Such is the nature of parental affection; but they see the children of others as what they are: apes. Therefore, we must entrust the examination of offspring to others. For affection is terrible at bribing the judgment. For this reason, Lysippus 6 brought Apelles into his paintings, and Apelles brought Lysippus.

EPISTLE II. To John 7

EPISTLE III. To my brother Evoptius

exprimere. (11) Καθεζομένη γοῦν ἐπ' ἀμφικέφαλoν. Bicipitem cathedram verti. Etymologicon, Ἀμφικέφαλος, κλίνης εἶδος, παρὰ τὸ ἑκατέρωθεν ἀνάκλισιν ἔχειν, καὶ προσκεφάλαιον, κεφαλή… ^A Migne’s Latin: “sitting on a double-headed chair,” they say, “with silver feet,” she lamented much about the untimeliness of the misfortune; as if one ought to have died either before or after the marriage. And she was angry with us, because we were in distress over it. With difficulty, therefore, having waited for the seventh day, on which we had provided the funeral banquet, she—along with that prattling old woman, the nurse—having climbed onto the wagon, instructress of the bridal rite, and with the marketplace full, processed with all the insignia toward Teucheira ^B (13) driving herself. For she intends also for the following seventh day to be adorned with ribbons, and like Cybele to go about wearing a turret (14). Of these things we are in no way harmed, except for the fact that it has become manifest to all that we have relatives who are utterly senseless. But the one who is harmed is Harmonius, the father of the doorkeeper, who, as Sappho would say, is for the rest a frugal ^C and moderate man; but (15) who, by his nobility…

NOTES OF DIONYSIUS PETAVIUS

^A ...at cap. 1, and made lamentation for his father seven days. Which passage Augustine, explaining it in *Lib. I Quaest. in Exod.*, quæst. 172, says: “I do not know whether it is found that mourning for nine days was celebrated by any of the saints in the Scriptures: which the Latins call the *novendiale*.” Hence it seems to me that those Christians are to be restrained who observe this number for their dead, which is more in accordance with the custom of the Gentiles. But the seventh day has authority in the Scriptures. ^B Indeed, Eustratius the presbyter of Constantinople, in Photius, cod. clxxi, gives the reasons why sacrifices are celebrated for the dead on the third, the ninth, and the fortieth day; so that it may appear that the ninth day was also observed somewhere. But more frequently, account is taken of the seventh, concerning which Ambrose also prays, *De fide resurrectionis*: “Now since on the seventh day we return to the sepulcher: which day is a symbol of future rest.” Banquets were also given in memory of the dead; which Synesius touches upon in this letter, and not only relatives but also the poor were admitted. Chrysostom treats of the banquet of relatives in *Homil. on chapter xi of I Corinthians*: “If anyone invites someone to a funeral banquet after the mourning, no one prevents it; since it is the law of men that commands these things.” For the Greeks call them *perideipna*, or *nekrodeipna*, which Jerome in chapter 9 of Osee interprets as *parentalia*. The Hebrew is [original-script column: see facsimile]. Zeno of Verona in *Psalm xlix* and Gaudentius in *Tract IV De Paschale* condemn the abuse of these banquets. Chrysostom mentions the agapes of the poor in *Homil. 32 in Matt.* and *Homil. 27 on Chapter xi of I Corinthians*.

(13) *Εὐθὺ Τευχείρων*. This is one of the five Pentapolis cities; which was called by another name, Arsinoe, on the authority of Strabo, book xvii. These five are: Beronice, Arsinoe, Ptolemais, Apollonia, Cyrene. Pliny, book v, chap. 5. Stephanus writes *Taúxeira*, and asserts it was so called in his own time.

(14) *Ταινιώσεσθαί τε καὶ πυργοφόρος*. A scholion in an old text says it is a crown. But he understands rather the structure of towers, concerning which Gregory Nazianzen: “Do not tower up your heads, O women, with false braids.”

(15) *Ἁρμόνιος ἐστιν*. A scholion in three manuscripts written in the margin is as follows: Harmonius is two…

[The text begins with the continuation of the previous page's argument concerning lineage, property, and moral status.]

as though he were contending with Cecrops himself; but he continued to dispute his nobility against Cecrops. Herodes, the uncle ^A and gatekeeper, divided more than this descendant of Cecrops into Sosias and Tibios. Unless perhaps those who celebrate the bridegroom for us based on his maternal lineage have something to say, deriving his genealogy from the famous Lais. For Lais, says some writer, was a Hyccaric [i.e., Caric] slave, purchased in Sicily; and from her, the outstanding woman, the mother received her origin, she who bore us this distinguished bridegroom. Furthermore, she had once been the concubine of a shipmaster, her first master, then of another master, an orator, and then of a third, a fellow slave—secretly in the city at first, then openly, to the point that she became a mistress of that art; but as soon as the wrinkles of loose skin prevented her from practicing it, she taught those who were ripe in age, substituting them for herself to foreigners. For her son, the orator, says that he is released by the necessity of the law from having to support a prostitute mother. Away with such a law! For to those who are born in such a way, the mother is certain and proven, but the other parent is ^B disputed. Therefore, as much as is owed to each by legitimate children, just as much ought to be bestowed upon mothers by those born of an uncertain father.

LETTER IV

Having cast off from Bendideum before the morning twilight, we had barely passed the Pharian Ant-hill after midday, the ship having been struck against the bottom of the harbor some two or three times. Immediately, therefore, this seemed a bad omen, and it would indeed have been prudent to disembark from the ship then, which, as it were, at the very first starting-gates was moving inauspiciously. But we were ashamed to be accused by you of timidity; and for this reason, ^C ... It was no longer possible to flee or tremble. Therefore, if any evil happens, we shall perish for your sake. And yet, what was that great inconvenience, that you should laugh, while we were out of danger? But, as they say, for Epimetheus,

To be concerned was wanting, but to repent was not lacking:

just as it is with us ourselves. For when it was possible to be saved, we now lament in a certain chorus at these deserted shores, looking toward Alexandria, as far as we are permitted, and toward Cyrene, our mother; one of whom we left when we possessed her, and the other we cannot find; having seen and experienced things ^D that we did not even think would happen to us in our dreams. Listen, for I would not want you to be entirely happy; and first, regarding how the crew were faring for us. The shipmaster was dying...

DIONYSIUS PETAVIUS' NOTES

^A ...had been to us. For as to the whole complement of the ship, there were twelve sailors—since the thirteenth person was the helmsman—and more than half of them, including the helmsman, were Jews, a faithless race, and one persuaded that it is a pious act to be the cause of death to as many Greeks as possible. The rest were mere rabble, peasants who had barely touched an oar the year before. Both these and the others were physically mutilated in some part of the body. And so, as long as there was no danger, they amused us, and they used to call each other not by their names, but by their misfortunes: “the Lame,” “the Herniated,” “the Left-handed,” “the Squint-eyed.” Everyone had some such badge, and to us it provided no small amusement. ^B But when the danger actually came, there was no longer any room for laughter, but we began to lament over these very people; for we were more than fifty passengers, of whom about a third were women, mostly young and fair of face. But do not envy us; a curtain separated us, and this was most secure, a fragment of a sail torn not long ago, a wall equal to that of Semiramis for sober-minded men. Perhaps even Priapus would have remained chaste if he were sailing with Amarantus, who never allowed us a moment of leisure from the fear of impending disaster.

^C For, in the first place, after we had rounded the temple of Poseidon in your country, he set full sail, intending to head straight for Taphosiris, and he attempted to traverse the Scylla—that which we loathe in our tablets. When we realized this and raised a cry—not, however, until we were right on the verge of the very danger—he was with difficulty forced to desist from contending with the reefs. From there, having turned the ship around as if repenting, he let her loose into the open sea, for a time struggling as best he could against the wave, and then a strong south wind favoring us, we were quickly carried out of sight of land; and immediately we came upon merchant vessels equipped with two sails, which had no business in our Libya, but were pursuing a different course. ^D As we complained and were distressed that we had been carried so far from land, that Japetus, Amarantus, standing upon the deck, began to sing the most dire and extreme imprecations. “For we shall not fly away,” he said, “but as for you, what he might do...”

who fear both earth and sea, you are mistaken.” But if ^A someone uses them well, most excellent Amarantus, I said to him, there is no need of them. For us, indeed, there was no need of Taposiris; for there was need of life, and now what need is there of the high sea? “But let us sail,” I said, “straight for the Pentapolis, keeping as far from the land as is moderate, so that if anything difficult should happen—as things of the sea are wont to do, and as it is uncertain to be sure, and as is said among you—some harbor might receive us nearby.” But I could not persuade him by speaking; the wretch had turned a deaf ear, until a sharper wind from the north began to bear down and stir up the swelling and rough waves. This, suddenly rushing in, pushed the sail the other way and made what were curved into hollows. And the ship itself was near to being overturned ^B stern-foremost; but with difficulty, at last, we righted it. And the heavy-groaning Amarantus said: “Such is the art of navigation; for he himself had long ago suspected the gale from the sea, and for that reason he was sailing high. For now it is descending athwart, as the distance gives way to add to the length. This would be our voyage, which could not be if we were sailing along the coast; for the ship would be dashed against the land.” And we agreed with him, as long as it was day, and the terrors were not yet present. For it began indeed with the night, as the surge kept increasing more and more.

There was then the day which the Jews call the Preparation; whose night they reckon with the following day, on which day it is not permitted for anyone to apply his hand to work, but, revering it most holily, they abstain from all labor. The helmsman, therefore, ^C cast the rudder from his hands, as soon as he conjectured that the sun had left the earth, and, having cast himself down, offered himself to be trodden upon by anyone of the sailors.

We, not immediately understanding the true cause of the matter, but thinking this to be despair, ran to him, and besought him not to abandon our final hope. For the tenth waves were also pressing hard, the sea being in a tumult upon itself. This happens when, the wind having ceased, the waves stirred up by it have not yet subsided; but having once received a powerful agitation, they struggle against the prevailing force, and repel the impetus of the wind with a contrary impetus. It was necessary for me, therefore, to use turgid and grand words, ^D lest I should explain the great evils below their dignity. For those using such navigation, life, as they say, hangs by a thin thread. But if the law-teacher is also the helmsman, what state of mind ought we to have? After, therefore, we understood what the abandonment of the rudder meant (for when we begged him to save the ship as much as he could from the dangers, he was reading a certain book), despairing that he could be persuaded, we began to apply force. And a certain noble soldier (for many of the Arabians are sailing with us)

^A drew his sword and threatened to cut off the man's head if he did not take hold of the ship. But he, a true Maccabee in his conviction, seemed nonetheless to persist. In the middle of the night, however, he began of his own accord to sit at the helm. "For now," he said, "the law permits this, since we are now clearly in peril of our lives." Upon this, a fresh tumult arose, the groaning of men, the wailing of women: everyone was crying out and beseeching the divine power and remembering their dearest ones. Only Amarantus was cheerful, as one who was about to cheat his creditors thereby. In the midst of such great evils—I swear to you by that divinity which ^B philosophy reveres—I was terrified by that Homeric line, lest it might perchance be true, that for those who are drowned in the waters, death is the destruction of the soul itself. For he says somewhere in his poems:

"Ajax has perished, for he drank the briny water,"

conceiving death at sea to be the most absolute destruction. Indeed, he says that no one else has perished, but that everyone who dies,

"has departed to Hades."

And for this reason, in the two accounts of the underworld, the lesser Ajax is nowhere introduced in the whole drama, ^C as if his soul were not in Hades. Furthermore, Achilles himself, that most courageous man, and most daring in undergoing perils, nonetheless dreads death in the water, which he even calls "abominable."

Turning these thoughts over in my mind, behold, I see all the soldiers standing about with drawn swords; and having inquired of them, I learned that they deemed it best, as long as they were still standing on the decks, to breathe their souls into the air, rather than to gasp them into the waves. I took them for natural-born Homerists, and I favored that sentiment. Then it was proclaimed by someone ^D that they should hang from their necks whatever gold anyone had. Those who had any hung it, not only gold, but whatever could be valued in gold. The women themselves, as they adorned themselves, also distributed cordage to those in need; for all had long ago been instructed to do this. The purpose of this thing is as follows: it is customary for the price of burial to be contributed by the shipwrecked. For whoever might happen upon them and gain from it would fear the laws of Adrastia, lest he be compelled to pay back a small part to him who had bestowed much more. And they were busy with these things. But I, sitting by, was lamenting over my accursed purse, the deposit of my guest. The God who presides over guests knows that it was not because I was to die, but because the Thracian [pirate] might deprive me of the money, on account of which I would have been ashamed even in death. Here, indeed, the loss was total: to have perished, and to have perished together, and even to have escaped [the pain of] sensation.

^A But in truth, we were in no condition to be afraid. For how could we, when the ship was being carried along with all sails spread? There was no way to lower them. But though we attempted many times to set things right with the ropes, we gave up, as the pulleys were bitten through and stuck fast. Nor was our fear any the less, even if we should survive the storm, that in such circumstances we might approach the land in the night. Yet the day arrived, and we saw the sun—I do not know if I have ever seen the sun more gladly. And the wind became gentler as the warmth increased, and the dew vanishing allowed us to use the ropes and manage the sail. But we had no other substitute sail to set in the place of the other; for it was pawned. We repaired it, therefore, just as one does the folds of a tunic; and ^B before four hours had passed, we went ashore in a certain desolate and deserted place, which had neither a city nor a farm in the neighborhood, but was about thirty stades removed from any farm. The ship, indeed, was rocking in the deep; for the place was without a harbor, and it rocked at one anchor, for the other had been carried away; nor had Amarantus a third anchor.

As soon as we reached the most desired land, we began to embrace it as if it were a living mother, and having offered up hymns of thanksgiving to God, as was our custom, we added to them the account of our recent misfortune, from which, contrary to expectations, we had been saved, remaining in that place for two days until the sea should become calm. ^C But since it was impossible to proceed by land, as no human being could be seen, we committed ourselves again to the sea, and having set sail at the very break of day, we sailed with the wind at our stern throughout that entire day and the following one; and as this was now waning, the wind left us, and we were distressed. For we were destined to long for, [in fact,] to pine for a calm. It was then the thirteenth day of the waning month.

DION. PETAVII NOTÆ.

^D (28) *Those who expected to die*. I do not know what this is, for I find in the manuscript *or those who expected death*.

(29) *It was then the thirteenth day of the waning month*. This cannot be understood as a lunar month. For the *synodical* [night] falls on that day, as he indicates a little later, when he calls it the *synodical night*. Wherefore, by catachresis, he calls it the day of some popular Alexandrian month. Let us investigate, if we can, from those things which are recounted in this letter, along with the year in which that storm occurred and the letter was written by Synesius. First, on page 161, he says that on the night that passed between Friday and Saturday, the storm increased, when the Jewish shipmaster, because of the religion of the Sabbath, having abandoned the rudder, threw himself into the ship, until at midnight, because of the imminent danger to his life, he returned to the work (page 162). When the sun had comfortably risen, before the fourth hour of the day, they arrived at the solitude (page 163). There, on account of the storm, they remained for two days (p. 164). On the approach of the third day, they cast off the ropes; it was the third day, as it appears, of the week; which, and the following one, they consumed in sailing. But this day, which is counted as the fourth, at its conclusion, the winds deserted them. The following night, which is between that and the fifth day of the week, he calls the *synodical night*, and the day itself, namely the fifth day of the week, he says was the end of the month, that is to say, the equable month, and Egyptian. Wherefore, some month must be found whose 18th day and 5th day of the week the new moon of the year happens to fall upon. This is the Alexandrian Thoth of the year of Diocletian 127, of the Christian era 410. Which indeed was the Nicene golden number XII, assigned to September; into which the 18th day of Thoth falls by the cycle of the sun 27, letter B. Consequently, September 15th was the 5th day of the week. The mean new moon according to the Parisian tables of Alexandria fell at hour 8, 53, past the noon of the 14th day; but the true new moon, hour 10, 48. This was, therefore, that *synodical night*. From these facts, it is gathered that Synesius sailed from Alexandria to Ptolemais in the year of Christ 410, on September 9th, the 6th day of the week, and that what he relates here occurred on September 15th, the fifth day of the week, Thoth 18. And it is likely that he had been recently ordained at that time. Since he was consecrated bishop at Alexandria in that same year by Theophilus, as we said in his life. This is the fruit of our method and of the study of chronology, which, from slight traces of events, generally brings great light to history. Indeed, that he was recently initiated into sacred things when he was writing this letter is shown by those things which he writes on page 166 concerning the abandoned consortship of women: which he says was so strictly enjoined upon him by his brother Evoptius. And at the end of the letter, he says he has his wife in the place of a sister. And so our conjecture is certain.

^A Thus died. But while this danger impended, and the conjunction of the stars and the much-talked-of fortuitous events—unto which, it is said, no man who ever put to sea has felt secure, and for which one ought to stay in port—were about to coincide, we, in our imprudence, had run out again onto the open sea. This tempest began with the northern winds, and rained most heavily throughout the conjunction night; then the winds began to revel, and the sea was stirred from the very depths. As for our own condition, it was what is to be expected in such circumstances—I will not recount these same trials again—and the magnitude of the storm was of some benefit to us. Thus, first a crash was heard from the yardarm. And when we had striven to secure the ship with taut ropes, that middle part was immediately broken, ^B which was almost the destruction of us all. But since it was not yet our destruction, this very thing brought us salvation; for the force of the winds could not have been withstood in any other way. Moreover, the sail was difficult to manage and could not be furled. In this manner, with the violence of the course diminished beyond our expectations, we were carried on for a day and a night without ceasing. Already, around the second cockcrow, we had unknowingly passed by a rocky promontory jutting out from the land, which formed a small peninsula. When a cry arose—since someone had given the signal to approach that land—a great and most discordant clamor went up; the sailors were terrified, but we, in our ignorance, were applauding with our hands and embracing one another, unable to contain the magnitude of our joy in our hearts. They were saying that this was the greatest of all the dangers that had befallen us thus far. ^C When it was already dawn, a certain man of rustic appearance beckoned to us and pointed with his hand to the treacherous places, and to others where we might safely commit ourselves. At length, he himself came up on a two-oared skiff; and having lashed it to the ship, he took hold of the rudder. The Syrian gladly relinquished his position of command. Having traveled no more than fifty stadia, he anchored the ship in a charming little harbor (which I believe they call Azarium), and disembarked us upon the shore, hailed by the mouths of all as a savior and a good spirit. And after a short time, he brought in another merchant ship, and then another; and before it was evening, five cargo ships had been preserved by that divine old man—a deed diametrically opposed to what ^D Nauplius once did; for he did not receive those tossed by the storm in the same manner. On the following day, others were brought in, among whom were some who had sailed from Alexandria one day before us. And now we are a complete fleet in a very narrow station. But since by now our provisions...

^A had failed—for, being unaccustomed to such circumstances and thinking we would not exceed the appointed time, we had taken only meager supplies—we were not consuming even those sparingly. To this evil, that same old man applied a remedy, not by distributing anything himself (for he was not like one who has anything to give), but by pointing out the rocks among which he said those who were willing to labor could find their lunch and dinner hiding. Ever since then, we have been supporting life for the seventh day now by fishing; the sturdier ones catch moray eels and huge spiny lobsters, while the youths think themselves blessed with a supply of gobies and wrasses. I, however, and the Roman monk, sustain our bodies with the shellfish called limpets. ^B Now, a limpet is a concave shell which, once it has laid hold of a rock, attaches itself firmly. At the beginning, indeed, we lived very sparingly on this game, as each person would greedily keep what he had caught, and no one would share anything with another. Now, however, we all revel in greater abundance, and this happened for the following reason. The Libyan women readily offer to the women who are sailing with us whatever even the milk of birds might produce—if they could offer it—but they do offer whatever the air and the earth provide: cheese, flour, barley cakes, mutton, hens, and hen eggs. Recently one even presented an *otida* (35), a bird of extraordinary sweetness; if a rustic were to see it, he would call it a peacock. ^C These women, therefore, bring gifts of this kind to the ships, and those who receive them share them with everyone who wishes. Furthermore, they now present us with the results of their own hunting, and one replaces another—a boy comes after a man, and a man after a boy, each repeatedly bringing me some hospitality: one, a small fish caught on a hook; another, something else; at any rate, there is always something good among what they carry from the rocks. For my part, I am not willing to receive anything from the women, for your sake as well, so that no pact might be formed between me and them—which, when it would have to be denied under oath later, would leave me stammering. Otherwise, what is there to prevent me from enjoying such delicacies? So many things flow in from every side. You might, indeed, ^D attribute this liberality of the inhabitants, which they display toward foreign visitors, to virtue, but it is actually something far different, which is not even unworthy of being recounted, especially in such and so great an abundance of leisure. The wrath of Venus, so far as can be conjectured, dwells in that region. They certainly experience a calamity on par with the Lemnian women. The breasts of the females rise to an incredible size and are not proportioned to their chests, so that infants do not suckle from under the armpit, but from the nipple lifted up over the shoulders. Unless, perhaps, someone might say that Ammon and the land of Ammon is a nurse not more of sheep than of children, and that nature has therefore given more generous and larger fountains of milk for men just as for livestock, and that to this end, more capacious breasts or vessels were necessary. And so, when they hear about men...

[...a manifestation of] ^A that condition of the entire sex, they do not heedlessly put their trust; but as soon as they encounter a foreign woman, they receive her kindly and do nothing else until they have searched her out. Whatever she has learned, she immediately tells to another, and they summon one another in turn, just as the Cicones used to do. They run together in great numbers for the spectacle, and for this reason those who have had some dealings with outsiders bring gifts with them. A great convenience for us was a certain little servant girl from Pontus, whom nature, conspiring with art, had fashioned as though carved from the udders of ants and drawn tight. All the women’s attention was centered on her, and she brought them a great deal of profit; so much so that, three days before our departure, wealthier neighboring women would summon her to them, one after another, from the house where she was staying. She was so bold as to even strip her body bare. God himself has tempered this comic drama for us out of a tragic one, and now ^B I do the same in my letter to you. I know that I have made this letter longer than is fitting, but just as when I am with you in person, so too in writing I cannot get my fill. Moreover, since I distrust that I shall converse with you further, I am now satisfying my desire to the extent that it is permitted. Although, if I wished to adapt this letter or my private journals, which I have composed with care, I would have the accounts of many days. Farewell, and bid my son Dioscorus, with his mother and aunt—whom I love and hold in the place of sisters—to be well on my behalf; ^C nor fail to give my best greetings to the most reverend and God-beloved mistress of philosophy, and to that happy choir that enjoys her divine voice. Among the rest, convey them especially to the most holy father Theotecnus, and to our comrade Athanasius. As for Gaius, whose heart is most closely united with ours, do not doubt that you should include him among our kinsmen, since he feels as I do. Greet him, then, along with the others; and likewise the excellent grammarian Theodosius, who, though he was a prophet, wished to hide it from us. For because he foresaw what was to happen to us, he abandoned the plan of traveling with us. Nevertheless, I love and greet him. But you, take care never to entrust yourself to the sea; or if it is ever absolutely necessary, do not do so at least as the month is ending.

LETTER V.

To the Priests.

It is better to trust in the Lord than to trust in man. ^D But I hear that those from the impious sect of Eunomius, and one Quintianus—whoever he may be—and the power in the military camp which they keep boasting of, are parading themselves and once again adulterating the Church and setting up certain false teachers to be a snare for the souls of those who are simpler. These are the men whom those sent by Quintianus have recently brought along, having sailed hither for this very purpose. For justice is a pretext for their impiety; or rather, it is a contest on behalf of impiety. These, therefore, are the bastard priests, the newly-arrived apostles of the devil and of Quintianus; take care that they do not slip into the flock over which you preside and ambush you, and do not let them secretly sow tares among the wheat. Their places of refuge are known to all. You know which fields would receive them; you know which houses stand open to brigands. Pursue the thieves

be zealous for that blessing of Moses, which blessed the men who moved their heart and hands against those guilty of wickedness in the camp. ^B But this must be said to you, brethren: let good things be done in a good way. Let all strife for the sake of gain be abolished; let everything be undertaken for the sake of God. The subject of virtue and of wickedness must not be the same; the race is for piety; one must contend for souls, that they may not be plundered by those from the Church, as has already become their custom. Whoever, under the pretense of protecting the Church, increases his purse, and by appearing useful in times that demand strength of spirit, procures power for himself, this is the one whom we banish from the Christian fellowship. God has not made virtue incomplete; it does not need a partner in wickedness; there will not be any shortage of soldiers for the ^C Churches—He will find allies here without pay, but in heaven they shall be rewarded with full measure. Be you of this kind; for it is good both to pray well for those who conduct themselves strenuously, and to invoke curses upon those who do otherwise. Whoever, therefore, acts too softly and betrays the matter, or whoever has indeed pursued it but has snatched something belonging to others, let him not be blameless before God. Bring only this one thing into the midst, and bring around those wicked money-changers, who debase the divine teaching like coinage; make it clear to all who they are. Thus, let those who are dishonored be driven from the borders of Ptolemais, and let them take away nothing of the wealth that has come into their possession. He who does otherwise shall be cursed before God. Whoever sees a wicked assembly and neglects it, or hearing of it pretends not to hear, or is infected by the contagion of gain from them, we command that these be held as Amalekites, from whom it is not permitted to take any spoil. Concerning him who takes it, God says: *I repent that I made Saul king* (1 Reg. xv, 11). But let there be no repentance in you for any of this; but let God be your concern, and in turn, may God be concerned for you. ^D

LETTER VI. To Anysius

But Carnas still hesitates, and he becomes just neither willingly nor by necessity. Furthermore, it is necessary that he come so that we may know what he can finally allege, and with what eyes he will look upon us, from whom he even wished to purchase the horse he had stolen, in order, as he said, that a soldier might not be without a horse. He offers a price, to be sure, that is very small, and he does not pay it to those who refuse to sell, but he considers that he has a right to have that horse; especially since he is not some Agathocles, nor a Dionysius, to whom tyrannical powers had granted impunity for such extreme wickedness; but he is Carnas the Cappharodite, whom it is not difficult to recall to the laws. Wherefore, if someone brings him to you, let us know, so that we may be able to summon those from Cyrene who can convict him to his face.

LETTER VII. To Theodore and his sister.

^A How great, do you suppose, was the pain I felt in my heart, when rumor spread through the city that you were afflicted with a grievous and more than grievous ailment of the eyes, which threatened danger to your sight? Afterward, that report proved false; and I suspect some utterly wicked person, having taken occasion from the mere mention of an eye disease, gave the rumor great weight and dramatized it. Let all that he falsely invented about you turn back upon his own head; but thanks be to God, because He has granted us to hear better things of you. Things, as the saying goes, should not be judged by the stars, nor should I be inquiring into whatever rumor may say; but I should, most of all, enjoy your presence. If not that, then at least I should receive your letters and be informed of your circumstances by you yourselves. But you truly neglect us overmuch, as perhaps God wills.

Letter VIII. To the brother.

You will not claim as an excuse that you were unaware of the person who was carrying the festive letters. But rather, having seen him, you neglected him, and you did not consider it a matter worthy of yourselves to remember a brother and to give him a letter stating how you are and in what state you find yourselves. For it is not a matter of indifference to me to know how you fare. But since I feel sorrow in all my own affairs, I would wish to rejoice in yours. And you have deprived me even of this consolation: a thing which there was no need to do. For even if we had not been born of the same parents, our common education, our common studies, and—what is not common among others? ^C all these things have completely united us to one another. But indeed, it is as they say, that adversity is a grievous matter; and whenever a difficult time happens to someone, then all other things, and the sentiments of brothers and friends, are put to the test. Yet for me it will be enough to learn about you even from others. May God only be the shepherd of good things. For regarding you, that is the kind of report I desire to hear.

LETTER IX. To Theophilus the Archbishop.

May a deep and prosperous old age await you, most holy and most wise man. For in other respects, a long life is surely a gain to the world.

you will be safe; and the number of the Paschal letters ^A, increasing year by year, makes a very great addition to the school of Christ. For the speech sent this year has brought both pleasure and profit to the cities, partly through the gravity of its thoughts, and partly through the grace of its words.

Letter X.

To Hypatia, the Teacher of Philosophy.

I greet you, and through you, the most blessed companions, O blessed lady; I have long been eager to complain that I receive no letters from you; but now I see that I am despised by you all, for the reason that, while I do nothing wrong, I am in most things unfortunate, and as unfortunate as any man can possibly be. But if I deserved to receive your letters, and were to learn in what state your affairs are (for I judge that they are entirely more favorable, and that you enjoy a more agreeable fortune), I would be oppressed by adversity only by half, if I were happy in you. Now, I count that alone among my woes. ^B For I am deprived not only of my children, but also of my friends and the benevolence of all; and what is most important, of your most divine soul, which I alone had hoped would remain to me, superior both to this injury of fortune and to these surges of the fates.

LETTER XI.

To the Presbyters.

Neither before was I able to prevail over you, when I was fleeing the priesthood with all my strength and using every device; nor have you now prevailed over me. But it was a divine matter, both that it was not so then, and that now it is. For my part, I would have chosen many deaths rather than this ministry. For I did not consider myself worthy of the magnitude of the matter. But since God has laid upon me not what I desired, but what He Himself willed, I pray to that same One, who became the governor of my life, that He also be the moderator of that which He has bestowed in His governance. For how shall I, who have spent my age in the leisure of philosophy and in the untroubled contemplation of reality, and have yielded only as much to life’s cares and troubles as was sufficient for the life ^D lived in this body and for public duty, be able to suffice for those continuous cares? Or how, involving myself in a crowd of business, can I direct my mind toward those beauties of the intellect, to enjoy which belongs to a certain blessed leisure? Without which, life cannot be altogether pleasant—if one may call it living—for me and my sort. I myself cannot attain to it at all. But to God, as they say, all things are possible, even those which cannot come to pass. Do you, therefore, yourselves reach out suppliant hands to God for me; and both to the urban multitude, and to all who dwell in the fields or in country churches, proclaim in my name that they should offer prayers for us, both publicly and privately, to all. For if I have not been abandoned by God, then I shall recognize that the priesthood is not a descent from philosophy, but an ascent.

LETTER XII. To Cyril.

^A Go to the mother Church, brother Cyril, from which you were not cut off, but were for a time separated—a thing accustomed to be determined according to the merit of one’s offenses. For I seem to know clearly that our common father, who is of holy memory, would have done this same thing long ago, had not the fatal hour anticipated him. For in that he set some measure to the punishment, he gave clear indication of a mind desiring to grant forgiveness immediately. Therefore, consider that that holy priest himself has granted you your return, and approach God with a soul cleansed of passion and forgetful of past evils. But also, with every honorable remembrance, cherish that holy and God-beloved old man who appointed you as leader of the people. Surely this does not happen to you unpleasantly from him.

LETTER XIII. Petro presbytero.

Let God be the beginning of every work and word. As for the bearer of the solemn letters—by which the day for the festive celebration is announced for the nineteenth of the month of Pharmuthi, so that the night most nearly preceding it may be consecrated to the mystery of the resurrection—receive him, both as he arrives and as he departs, with all humanity, and ^B dismiss him with a change of beasts for travel in both directions, for he has given himself into the midst of the enemy’s weapons to ensure that the ancient and ancestral custom of the Churches should not fail, undertaking a journey through a suspected region. These same letters urge the city to pray for us. For it is high time now that it should begin to grasp the sense of its own lack of wisdom concerning me—it, which elevated to the priesthood one who had no boldness to pray to God for the whole people, but who himself has need of the people as intercessors, that he might be saved. Especially since, into this same time, the council gathered here has fallen—a concourse of many priests, which the present state of the times has summoned, at the very time I set out to write to you. But if I have been able to say nothing of the sort that you are accustomed to hear, this must be forgiven to me, but charged to you as a fault, in that you set one ^C who is ignorant of the divine Scriptures before those who are learned in them.

Letter XIV. Anysio.

Thus do children avenge their parents. I have received the favor. Carnas has been a suppliant to me, whose supplication God himself has made more venerable. For what is fitting for a priest is to look upon a man who has been judged and arrested...

in their own fasting days? Whoever, therefore, led him away did not let him go, but the man was snatched from him. If, therefore, you should exact a penalty from him because of that violence, we would be brought to this: that we show humanity to those who have done us harm, and do harm to those who have done us nothing.

Epistle XV

To the female philosopher

Epistle XVI

To the same

Epistle XVII

To Heliodorus

May very many good things befall him who...

possesses the dignity of your most holy memory, and has filled the ears of all with the praises of you that are rightly owed to your golden soul and tongue. Nevertheless, you immediately return the favor of this praise; for you are praised in turn by myriads of your admirers, with all of whom I contend for the first place—or rather, I do not contend, for it is willingly conceded to me by all. ^B

LETTER XVIII.

To my Brother.

LETTER XIX.

To Herod and Martyrius.

LETTER XX.

To Diogenes.

LETTER XXI.

To the Duke.

show to your cousin the honor due to the one who has departed. For you will have done a good deed towards a worthy man, and you will have obligated the senate of great Alexandria to you by this kindness; for many people brought the man to me and requested that I assist him with my letters. Therefore, to provide the letters was my duty; but that they should be of use to him, this is required of you.

EPISTLE XXII

To Anastasius.

EPISTLE XXIII

To Diogenes.

EPISTLE XXIV

To Simplicius.

EPISTLE XXV

To Heliodorus.

EPISTLE XXVI

To Troilus.

NOTES OF DIONYSIUS PETAVIUS

may the grace of God be with you, to whom you annex yourself in the communion of a benevolent disposition. May you fare well, best of philosophers. For it pleases me to call you friend in this way, just as the facts themselves suggest.

LETTER XXVII. Constanti

Letter XXVIII. To Simplicius

LETTER XXIX. Pentadio Augustali

LETTER XXX. To the same

DIONYSII PETAVII NOTAE

LETTER XXXI. To Aurelian.

If there are souls of cities, as indeed there are, ^A guardians, divine and of the number of genii, deem that they are all grateful to you and mindful of the good things that you, when you held the highest magistracy, conferred upon all nations. Therefore, believe that these same spirits are present with you at all times as your advocates and allies, and that they pray to the common God that He may compensate you with rewards befitting your merits, for having perfectly imitated Him insofar as it is possible. For to do good to others is the only thing that humans have in common with God. Furthermore, imitation is a kind of reconciliation, and it joins that which imitates to that which is held up for imitation. Therefore, hold it as a certainty that you have been made akin to God through the communion of this same beneficent will, and foster yourself with the sweetest hope, such as is appropriate for this disposition of soul; o most magnificent one, you who are alone, or with few, deservedly called "the only one," greet the young Taurus, the brilliant hope of the Romans, in the name of his most venerable father.

LETTER XXXII. To the brother.

He who is a slave both in name and in disposition, whom—being ignorant of it—I bought as a wrestling master from the heirs of Theodore, is of old a wicked man. ^B For he was born ill and reared ill; nor did he obtain an upbringing contrary to his natural character, having groveled from childhood in the gaming of quails, in dice, and in taverns. But now, as Lysias might say, "He is finished, he has reached the end, and there is a limit to this nuisance." For indeed he has not the slightest commerce with Mercury and Hercules, the guardians of the wrestling school; but he is the temple-warden of Cotytto and the other Attic Priapi, and if there are any other demons of this sort, he is a care to them all, and they are to him. ^C For my part, I would not exact any other punishment from him: for his own wickedness is sufficient punishment for the wicked man. But since he has been proven to be entirely unfit to live among philosopher masters, whose infamy spreads to those who abide in their house, let him have his own fatherland. For whoever has seen this whoremonger flaunting himself proudly through the whole forum, drunk with a garland and ointments, and feasting, and filled with every kind of lewdness... ^D

committing him to the shipowner, force him to sail straight to the land that bore him. For that land might more justly endure him. But let him sail bound upon the deck; for he must not descend into the hold; otherwise, do not be surprised if he leaves many jars half-empty. And if the voyage should be prolonged, he might even consume the perfumed wine down to the dregs, and persuade the sailors to do the very same. For, among other things, vice is most persuasive when it takes pleasure as its guide. And who among those sailing for hire is so steady that he would not be set adrift by the dancing of the wine as it is circulated in the cup? And he performs many other scurrilous acts, against which the shipowner must be fortified. Now Ulysses, that he might not be corrupted by pleasure, sailed past the shore of the Sirens already bound. But this man must be bound, if those who sail with him be wise, so that he may not corrupt the passengers with the allurements of pleasure. ^B

EPISTLE XXXIII

To the Philosophess.

I seem to do what the echo is wont to do; I return the voices I have received, while I praise the wondrous Alexander in your presence.

EPISTLE XXXIV

To Aurelianus.

Divine providence does not yet take care of the Romans, but it will do so eventually; nor will those who are able to save the commonwealth remain idle at home forever. But for the orator, my companion, even that authority which now rests with you is sufficient for what he needs. Let him therefore now enjoy this alone; afterwards, however, he shall enjoy that other, along with all the nations. ^C

EPISTLE XXXV

To the Brother.

Athanasius has entered upon the most compendious path to wealth. For he has determined that he must deal with the dying, and by persuasion and force execute whatever he can regarding them, by whatever right or injury. Therefore, no public scribe, when summoned to a will, escapes Athanasius's notice; he [Athanasius] will not only be present, but will burst in along with him.

EPISTLE XXXVI

To the Same.

On the sixteenth of the month of Athyr, the blessed Castricius became this very thing—that is to say, "blessed"—when he had previously seen a dreadful apparition and had recounted it. ^D

EPISTLE XXXVII. To Anysius.

John, whom I love for the very reason that he loves you, has struggled with a difficult illness. The illness itself was not as distressing to him as the fact that he was removed from your sacred presence. And even now he remains in the same state. Furthermore, a third factor makes his illness still more grievous for him: he desires to perform some deed worthy of a soldier, and bears his forced inactivity with an ill grace.

EPISTLE XXXVIII. To Aurelian.

I believe your divine soul was sent down to us precisely ^A so that it might be a common good to mankind, and that it might be grateful to those who commend to it persons who seek what is just, because they provide it with material consistent with your nature. For it is not because Herod is my kinsman, but because justice demands it, that I recommend the youth to you. Although he was born of most illustrious ancestors and received by hereditary right the ancestral lands ^B that pay tribute to the senate, since he has become a duke, he is nonetheless required to pay the same tributes that are demanded from those recently admitted to the senate, and thus he performs a double function: one on account of his own estate, and the other on account of the magistracy he holds.

EPISTLE XXXIX. To my Brother.

Desire compels me to you no less than necessity. I ask, therefore, whether you will be ^C expecting me when I come.

EPISTLE XL. To Uranius.

I have sent you a gift of a horse, made by nature foremost for every equine virtue, which you may use in chariot races; you may use it also when you go hunting, and in martial conflicts. You may use it, too, when you celebrate your triumphal procession for the Libyan victory. For I do not know ^D whether he is better as a hunter, a jumper in games, or as one better suited for a procession or for war. But if he is less shapely to behold than the Nysaean horses, and has a head that is clumsy,

and lean of loin, perhaps God does not grant all things to horses, any more than to men. Or perhaps this also contributes to those virtues of his, if he has received from nature fewer soft parts than hard. Indeed, I know that for labors, bones are more durable than flesh. Therefore, the horses among you are superior in flesh, while ours are superior in bone. ^A

EPISTLE XLI

To a Companion

EPISTLE XLII

To Cledonius

EPISTLE XLIII

To Anastasius

EPISTLE XLIV

To John

then, to what I think is right to discuss with you. ^A If Fama (57) is a goddess, according to some of our poets, you have destroyed the blessed Emylius, not by acting on the deed itself, but by planning the murder; and having composed a barbaric drama, you brought down from among your own soldiers the most cruel executioner. For Fama says these things, and it is not divine law to call them lies, as she is a goddess. But if Hesiod says nothing, and many things are said in vain, then this is one of many concerning you—and I would prefer it to be so, for I value the loss of money less than the loss of a friend. And now, even if you are not guilty yet are reputed to be so, you are unfortunate, but you are not unjust; for I wish you were not even unfortunate, though in the former case you would deserve just hatred, whereas in this case you deserve pity. Yet I seem to myself ^B to be too easily captivated by intimacy, so as to detest the deed in that case, but nevertheless to pity you. It is the duty of one who pities to provide help as much as he can, and to discover from where he might think to be of some use. Therefore, in either case, it is my duty to advise you of what appears best. It seems to be the same advantage both to one who is guilty and to one who is innocent. Go before the laws, and submit yourself to the judge along with your soldiers, if you have any care for them as well. And if the terrible deed was done, entreat, supplicate, beseech; do not cease to stir yourself until you have contrived to stand before the verdict of the people ^C and have paid the penalty. It will lie to your advantage in the courts below to have departed having first been purified, friend John. Do not think that this exhortation is merely empty words, nor imagine that I am playing a trick on you. So may holy philosophy help me, and furthermore my children, that if you were not most dear to me, I would not have advised you of anything of the kind, which I pray against my own enemies—and may it never enter their minds that it is better for one who has done an injustice to pay voluntary penalties; but may they have a certain perpetual happiness in the things in which they act unjustly, so that they may be wicked for a longer time, and might pay all their penalties there. But to you, on account of our singular friendship, I would dare to disclose certain mysteries: that it is not the same thing to pay penalties in a dense body ^D and in a phantom or image. For God is stronger than a man; and the human condition is but a shadow of the whole divine administration. But what the executioners are in the cities, being the hands of the laws, such is the function that the penalties provide for the nature of the cosmos. There are cleansing demons who possess a craft over souls, such as those who full garments (58) do upon filthy ones. But if clothing had sensation, what do you suppose it would undergo as it is kicked, and treated with soda, and in every way—

DION. PETAVII NOTES.

^A in public affairs; the use which executioners have, as being the hands of the laws, the same office do the avenging Furies perform for the whole of nature. Certain demons preside over the expiation of crimes, exercising the same art in the souls of men as fullers practice upon sordid garments. But if some feeling were in garments, what would you think them likely to do, when they are both trampled by heels, and rubbed with nitre, and combed out in every way? With how great torments, indeed, could old filth and deeply ingrained stains be washed away? I do not yet say this, that for many those stains adhere so deeply that they can with difficulty be removed, and the garments are corrupted and torn asunder before they can be restored to their original state. This is because the vice passes into their nature, whether the length of time or the magnitude of the vice has caused it. But in this way it would be conducive for a soul affected by corruption to be capable of change. Now, in truth, so that sins may correspond in proportion to stains of such a kind that they cannot be washed away: the soul, however, is not like that obsolete garment which cannot bear the washing; but since it is immortal, it pays immortal penalties as often as it entangles itself in a deeply adhering and unwashable bane. But if in the life in which anyone has sinned, he were to be punished, he does not bear this affection as something thoroughly ingrained and custom-fixed; but the soul, being freshly infected, so to speak, is quickly washed clean. Therefore, as quickly as we can, the penalty must be undergone, so that we may experience men, not demons, as executioners. Furthermore, it has been celebrated in the discourse of some, and I am easily persuaded, that those who have received an injury are the arbiters of the punishments, and make them either longer or shorter. Therefore it is the same thing to inflict some huge evil upon one person as to do a moderate injury to many. For each one avenges himself in turn: and it is necessary that it be ^B doled out in punishments to all. But when someone is of such a kind that he can be healed, it has great weight before the judge that the soul has already suffered so much beforehand, that it may even obtain mercy from those who have been injured. When, therefore, is it likely that the soul of the blessed Aemilius will be more placable? I for my part think, or rather I am clearly persuaded, that every supplicant who has punished himself is deserving of reverence. And among us, anyone who has already been arraigned for a crime, by the very fact of anticipating the event, confessing the cause, and saying that he is worthy of punishment, has bought off the punishment. But to be pampered by those whom one has injured, whether in money or in body, makes the injured party more ill-tempered. And who would not turn away having departed from the body, whether by a violent judgment, or in some other way, and then having seen the soul itself by the soul itself, ^C not having a tongue to deny to you, but having the mark of the deed branded upon it? Will you not grow dizzy? Will you not be at a loss? You will be dragged along in silence, and you will yield to the judgment, and I, and you, and everyone whom a published repentance does not cleanse beforehand. But we must be manly, O noble one, for you might be noble, and we must scorn the pleasures which we procured by doing injustice; we must not be ashamed before men, but we must confess the deed to the Judge; and we must appease by immediate submission the punishments below. For while it is the greatest good not to sin, the second good is to be justified.

DIONYSII PETAVII NOTES

...the doer of good; but also, he himself [is] destroying the ruin against us, both freeing man from wickedness, and healing the inventor of wickedness himself. And for those whose passions have become further callous, and no cleansing of the stain has been applied—neither mystical water, nor the invocation of divine power, nor correction from repentance—there is every necessity that they also be in the appropriate place; and the crucible is appropriate for base gold, so that the wickedness that has been mixed into them melting away, their nature may, in long subsequent ages, be preserved pure for God. [alt-version omitted] ^D [59] "not having the particle 'Nisi' for denial" refers to the locution, because the particle 'Nisi' does not have such a meaning.

^A One must consider him most unfortunate, for whom neither God nor man cares. Consider it also in this way: being licentious is spoken of as a thing of evil, and is so perceived. Therefore, to be punished is a thing of good. For reason assigns the opposite to the opposite. Whoever, doing wrong for a long time, remains licentious—

If, therefore, I were present, there would be no need for you to suffer this trouble, stripping away all shame and accusing yourself; but I would have of my own accord offered myself as your advocate, and would have brought you, as if to doctors, to the laws. For if some foolish person were to say that John is being accused by Synesius, you, however, would understand the usefulness of the matter—that it was out of sparing you and caring for you that I undertook this task of accusing, so that, as much as possible in such evils, you might be in a better state. And I judge that these things are to be done only if a crime has indeed been committed; which, for your sake and the city’s, I would least of all wish to have been done. For this city will seem wholly ^B contaminated by the guilt of that parricide, if it has been committed by the slaughter of a kinsman. But if you are innocent both in hand and in mind—and may it be so!—then those who invent these things against you are truly detestable, and the punishments of the underworld await them, too; for no one is as accursed to God and men as the rumor-monger who inflicts a wound from the shadows. Since he is most cowardly, he causes immense evils; and I know not what fate is said to be inherent in them, such that they become effeminate, and that this same kind of man holds the primacy in that craft. For they are clever and skillful in many other things. Therefore, if anyone is caught spreading rumors about false matters, ^C do not ask anything further about this man, nor doubt at all, but however firm and constant he may seem, boldly proclaim the person a semi-man and a pure, unadulterated follower of Cotytto. But to you, there is given the greatest opportunity, from those rumors, to refute the calumny, if you submit yourself and yours to judgment. For thus, appearing in the sight of all, you will speak: "Some are my hidden calumniators, who, although already condemned by their own opinion, nevertheless wish to remain hidden. But though they object many and very bitter things against us, which seem to be proven even to some—so crafty ^D are they—you should come forward and say: 'My accusers are secret, and those who have already judged them are eager to remain hidden; yet they accuse me of many and grievous things, and risk persuading some; so crafty are they, and skilled at handing over an account to rumor.' Then, having gone through the charges for which you are ill-spoken of—marriage and impious murder, since they say, I believe, that a debauched person near him brought about the murder—bringing this [to light] at the same time, entreat and fall before the court, not to go away unexamined, not to be convicted by default. For in no way, O best of governors, will you say, because you are effeminate—but because I have a philosophical mind; and if you are a philanthropist, [etc.]"

instruction, and instructed to spread rumors. Then, enumerating the crimes for which you are ill-spoken of—namely, the wedding and the execrable parricide, since they say that a certain profligate is with you, who, suborned by you, committed that murder—produce ^A that very man, and as a suppliant and with every effort struggle before the judges that he not be dismissed without questioning, nor condemned without a trial. For it is not, most excellent man (as you will say, addressing him), because no one has openly brought this accusation, that you must for that reason fail to employ every kind of inquiry to track down and explore the truth of the matter. Behold, that very profligate is the one of whom all are speaking. You have the man; use his body: if any crime has been committed, it is fitting today that he become the accuser of himself and of me as well. If the judge should not listen to you thus entreating him, this itself will be enough and more than enough for us men. But if he should show himself humane, and for your sake should wish to investigate that case, then indeed it will be worth the effort to brilliantly wash away the crime and to put to shame and silence those rumor-mongers. For that profligate of yours must by no means live in luxury; rather, he shall be bound, and hung up, and his sides will be pierced. For the torturers are wonderful at exposing pretense; and there are certain claws devised by them, possessing the power of scientific syllogisms. ^B So that whatever is revealed while they are in control, that is the very truth itself. If, in this way, you are acquitted of doing anything wrong, you will depart from the court victorious and proud, being pure and also appearing so. But if I have suggested things that I believe to be to your advantage, and you do not act upon them, nor present yourself to the judge, justice nonetheless sees the truth and knows it. Certainly the eye of God, which penetrates all things, both saw Libya, and that ravine, and that rumor—whether it be true or fabricated—and the course of Aemilius; and what he suffered, and by whom, and what he said, and what he heard; if indeed he said or heard anything at all. But if you are innocent and pure before God, having neither committed nor plotted the most abominable deed, yet are not yet pure to us men, so long as you are undefended, we shall not offer you our right hand, ^C nor will we eat from the same table. For we fear the avenging Furies of Aemilius, lest by your contagion you should imprint the same guilt upon us. We have our own domestic stains, and there is no need to take on those of others.

LETTER XLV. To Olympius.

LETTER XLVI. To Anastasius.

you have remained with us. But then you departed with it. For it has been reported by those who arrived from Thrace that you neither think nor speak moderately concerning us. Yet this is not merely to renounce friendship, but to proclaim enmity. It would have been enough, if indeed that had to be committed, not to grieve with me; but to inflict grief in addition exceeds all bitterness, and it is something neither of Amasis nor of any human being at all. But perhaps you have consulted your own affairs better. Do, then, what must be done: only act so that you may be fortunate and happy; for half of the evil will have befallen me, if I, in these very tribulations which I suffer, bring pleasure to my friends.

EPISTLE XLVII. To Theotimus.

^B Include Peter among the number of those with whom Pentapolis is angry, a man who conducts himself to subvert the laws without pretense or deceit. Although I also hate the one who seeks in this way: God is witness of this matter, and Dioscurides. But he is far more shameless than that man. For whatever he has coveted, as soon as he has seized it and turned it into his own power, he afterwards submits it to judgment. If he is defeated by the judge’s sentence, he is superior by force. Thus he did: ^C First he seized a jar; on this account he is summoned to court by someone. When this man had convicted him, he neither gave it back, but also threatened the officers with lashes. Moved by indignation against him, and thinking that life for me was not worth living where certain private individuals have hands stronger than the laws, I ensured that the most distinguished men, moved by the authority of a decree, might assist the state of the commonwealth. For if this had succeeded for him, we would soon have seen many Peters. For which I owe great gratitude to the most illustrious Martyrius, who was most pained by this case of ours, and was the most prompt of all in bringing aid. For which may he obtain some good from God. But it will be best, however, if before Anthemius that matter is not used as a fraud against him, if Peter should demand it back from him, as he threatened. But lest this happen, I beseech you again and again, and through you the admirable and wise Troilus: ^D prevent that troublesome pest, so that it does not entrench itself behind the laws against the laws. For I am concerned for the Pentapolis, and for this man besides, lest I bring calamity upon a friend. But how the sycophant is to be checked is not for me to discover, but rather for you, O man most clever at devising all that is noble.

EPISTLE XLVIII. To Pylaemenes.

You do well to return to the city that holds the King. For even if you were enjoying prosperous fortune among the mountains of the Isaurians, nevertheless that happiness itself is more unhappy because of the place. But it is of some private interest to me that you be conveniently situated in the royal city itself, where, residing, you will receive and send letters, which are to me the most precious of all wares exported from Thrace.

that you be conveniently situated in the royal city itself, where, residing, you will receive and send letters, which are to me the most precious of all wares exported from Thrace.

EPISOTLE XLIX. To Theotimus.

^A Hiero derived more benefits from his intimacy with Simonides than Simonides did from Hiero. And I call God to witness, the president of our friendship, that I have not proclaimed you more blessed because of your intimacy with the great Anthemius than I have proclaimed that same Anthemius great because of you. ^B For to a man endowed with power, what better possession is there than a friend who possesses a character that is uncorrupted and sincere? Such a one I know Theotimus to be—most gentle, and a head most dear to God. But you do even more than Simonides in this. For Simonides himself confessed that he would only engage in discourse for money. But this is common to both: just as Simonides commended Hiero to future ages, so, through the benefit of Theotimus’s poetry, Anthemius will be most celebrated in the records of all literature for as long as the Greeks endure. However, he may indeed increase the Roman estate, but you [increase] his name and memory. For it is granted by God to poetry to dispense the glory and fame of men, of which all the splendor and honor flows back to you.

EPISTLE L. To My Brother.

John, says this one, killed Aemylius; but another says that this was fabricated by his enemies who manage public affairs. The justice of the matter knows the truth, and time will discover it. As for me, although the matter is still uncertain, I think all of them are to be detested to a man: the one, because he is of such a character that, even if he has not committed this deed, he certainly would have done so, and stands accused of a crime that is not foreign to his character; and the others, because even if they did not fabricate it, they were certainly going to do so; and this deed is consistent with their spirit. For when a person’s manner of life is far removed from any [such] suspicion, no matter how many conspirators may bear witness, they will prove nothing at all. Just as if someone were to accuse Ajax of being a catamite, he would be overwhelmed by the laughter of all. But Alexander, if he was not a catamite, was yet effeminate, and so was fit for this accusation. Furthermore, I hate Sisyphus and Ulysses; for even if they said something true, they were nevertheless such that they lied more often. But I, in this very calamity of mine, am most fortunate in being deprived of such fellow citizens, enemies, and friends. Let all such things be walled off from me. I have nothing to do with any of them. A stranger among strangers.

My character, before the place itself, had already separated me from them. ^A

EPISTLE LI. To the Same.

Setting out from Phycus at the break of dawn, by late evening we reached the Erythrean Gulf; where, after making a stop just long enough to drink and draw water—for springs of pure and most sweet water burst forth on the very shore—and since the Carpathians were pressing for our departure, we set out again into the deep. As we were favored by a wind that was moderate, yet blowing constantly from the stern, and as we did not expect to cover much distance relative to any given day, we covered as much as was sufficient before we were aware. On the fifth day we caught sight of the beacon in the distance, which they raise from a tower as a signal to arriving sailors, and we were more quickly than a word could be said put ashore on the island of Pharos. The island itself is barren, in which there is neither native forest, nor crop, but only a little bit of salt. ^B

EPISTLE LII. To the Same.

I do not know who this merchant of sandals said to be coming from Athens might be, from whom you seem to me to have purchased those worn-out shoes last year. But now they say he is embarking on a more extensive trade, bringing Attic robes and summer garments suitable for both you and me for the summer season of the year. Therefore, before he sells everything, or those items that are of a more exquisite workmanship (for those who arrive first do not wish to provide for those who come later, but rather for themselves), invite the stranger to you, and buy for me three or four of the cloaks. Whatever you may pay for the price, it will be repaid to you by me with interest. ^C

EPISTLE LIII. To the Same.

The length of a letter is a sign that the one delivering it is a stranger. But the marvelous Acacius knows the same things as I do; indeed he will tell you even more than he knows, both because he follows you with the highest regard, and because he possesses a tongue that manages to surpass the facts themselves. Therefore, I assign this letter more to the duty of greeting you and to convention, than to necessity. Yet may this letter have the honor of reporting how the son, Dioscurius, is doing well, and how he is reading, and how he is devoted to his books. As for us, we have provided him with a group of brethren, having added to Hesychius a pair of brothers

of your brothers. May God grant them happiness, for their own sake, for the sake of the family of their brothers and parents, and for the rest of their kin and their native cities.

EPISTLE LIV

Many among us, both laymen and priests, fabricating certain dreams which they themselves call revelations, appear to me to be bringing evil upon me when I am awake, unless it happens that I reach sacred Athens very soon. Therefore, whenever you happen to meet a Piraeus ship captain, write to us; for we shall receive your letters there. I shall derive a benefit from that journey to Athens not only in that I shall be delivered from my present miseries, but also that I shall no longer have to pay homage to those arriving from there on account of their erudition. They differ in no way from us, the mortals, at least not in terms of their understanding of Aristotle and Plato, yet they circulate among us as demigods among mules, simply because they have seen the Academy and the Lyceum and the "Stoa Poikile" where Zeno philosophized—which is no longer "Poikile" (variegated), for the proconsul has removed the panels. By that, he has prevented them from being more arrogant on account of their wisdom.

EPISTLE LV

You had just cast off the mooring cable when I drove my mules to the Zephyrian shore. ^C And as I was getting down from the carriage, your sail was already hoisted and the wind was blowing at the stern. But I followed you with my eyes as far as I could, and I spoke much to the winds on behalf of my very dear soul, entrusting the ship to them, for it carried the most precious cargo committed to me. And they (for they are not devoid of love for beautiful things) promised me your voyage and your return. And indeed, since they are good spirits, they will never have betrayed their trust. As you, when traveling from here to there, entreated them, so entreat them as you return from there hither—for they will then attend to you much more willingly.

EPISTLE LVI

You do me an injury, O divine and sacred head, you who have urged a simple soul, one easily captured by habit, to love you and your niece especially, only to then separate yourself from me and your niece. And yet, when I looked upon her, a double image hovered before my eyes, and it seemed to me that her uncle was present in the girl. But now, all that was friendly has vanished entirely, and I sometimes accuse my nature, which seems to be immoderately prone to accepting injury. But if there is any utility in philosophy, I shall fortify myself into a more manly state, and from now on you will find me more rigid and more defiant.

EPISTOLA LVII. Adversus Andronicum. ^A SYNESII PTOLEMAIDIS EPISCOPI

Letter 57. Against Andronicus.

The deleterious powers that exist in the world, even if they serve the need of divine providence—for they punish those who deserve to be punished—are nevertheless both hateful to God and execrable. "I will raise up," He says, "a nation against you, from whom you will suffer such and such things." And in the end, He says that he will proceed to attack those very ones whom he arms like soldiers; because when they had you in their power, they showed no mercy, nor did they treat you humanely. I do not retain the sacred words themselves in my memory: but I can certainly assert that somewhere in the Sacred Volumes God is introduced speaking these things. And He did not say so without also acting in reality. For the Babylonian king overthrew the city of Jerusalem and reduced the nation itself to servitude. But he himself was not long after seized by madness, and by divine decree it happened that his city was doomed to desolation and solitude, so much so that it seemed incredible that a city had ever existed there. ^B Shall we, then, dare to inquire of God in this manner? Why do You rouse men as Your avengers against those who offend You, yet when they have performed their service to Your divine will, and have become the executioners of those to whom they were sent, at the very time when they ought to be rewarded and thanked for their service, they are then most severely punished? Or has He suggested those things to us to provide an answer to this question? Since, once the divine law had been violated, evils reached men—and among the class of evils, those that are malevolent hold the first place; for these have a certain abundance of nature, the power to effect change—it belonged to divine wisdom, virtue, and capacity, once evils had come into existence, not only to do good (for this is, so to speak, the nature of God, just as it is the nature of fire to heat or of light to shine), but primarily to effect some good and profitable end through those very evils that have been devised by some, and to make useful use of those things which seem to be evil. For it is the mark of an ingenious wisdom to be able to make timely use even of evils themselves. ^C Whenever, therefore, He requires exactors of punishment, at times He will use the demons set over the swarm of locusts; at other times, those whose task is pestilence; at others, some barbarian nation; at others, a wicked ruler; and, to speak in a word, Nature herself as a public servant, which is suited for doing evil. Nevertheless, He still hates them, because they have become suited for such a task. For God does not create instruments of disaster, but He readily uses those who have set themselves in that direction. And because you have become useful for this purpose, this very thing is what God also cuts off in the end. Thus, also, one vessel is considered honorable, and another dishonorable. Each is judged by the use to which it is put. Thus a table... ^D [index: entries preserved]

NOTES BY DION. PETAVIUS

(65) In some codices this is not reckoned among the epistles, but after them among the *catastaseis*. He is accustomed to call certain declamations by this name. It is not really an epistle; but because it contributes to the understanding of what follows, and occupies its place among them in the published editions and in most manuscripts, we have decided to change nothing. Moreover, this Andronicus, the prefect of the Pentapolis at Berenice, when he was planning many wicked and impious things against God and men, a council having been convened at Ptolemais, was rejected from the communion of the faithful by the judgment of the bishops. This invective, therefore, was delivered after the decree of the council, which the following epistle to the bishops contains.

(66) "But that most of all, even through evils." St. Augustine, *De civit. Dei*, chap. 1: For many things are indeed done by the wicked against the will of God; but He is of such wisdom and such virtue, that all things which seem contrary to His will tend toward those ends or results which He Himself foresaw as good and just. Plotinus in Theodoret, *De curandis Graec.*: "And evils have not come to pass through God, but because He uses even them for an end, since it has been said concerning the class of them [that He is able] to make capable use even of what is evil." See Philo in Eusebius, *De praeparat.*, page 232.

^A It is a sacred thing through which God is honored as both friendly and hospitable, and hospitality has made Abraham the host of God. But the scourge is a repellent thing; for it serves wrath. And someone who has already made use of it has repented. God, however, cares for those who are being punished. For it is no small thing to be deemed worthy of God’s oversight, and to have sins washed away through justice. But the natures which are punitive are altogether alien to God. For that which is destructive is, of course, hostile to the Creator. For the punisher, whether demon or human, is not so disposed in his intent as to be offering this as a kind of service to God; but, indulging the wickedness of his nature, proceeds to inflict common calamities. Therefore, because the city needed to suffer misfortune, and you were the one who did this, you should not on that account escape justice. For Judas too could have made this same defense. For it was necessary ^B for Christ to be crucified for the sin of all. "But it was necessary," he says, "yet woe to him, through whom it happens; and, It would have been good for that man if he had not been born." Therefore, as regards what is visible, the noose followed his betrayal. But as for what is invisible, no one could even conceive of it. For it is not possible to comprehend in human thought what manner of punishments might exist for the betrayer of Christ. For to serve the necessity of what must happen is not a noble defense. It is necessary, therefore, that in the near future both the Ausurians and Andronicus should pay a just penalty for what they have done to us. For indeed, the locust that ravaged our crops, and consumed the produce down to the stalks and the plants down to the bark, a submerging wind lifted up and cast into the midst of the sea. ^C With this plague, then, God opposed the south wind; and against the Ausurians, someone has been chosen as leader by Him; may he be the most pious and most just of all the leaders ever sent by Him to us! May it be granted to me to bless him for the victory over them! "For blessed is he," it says, "who shall return the recompense to them; blessed is he who shall dash their infants against the rock." What then, what destruction awaits the curse-laden Andronicus of this land? What justice could be worthy of such a wicked soul? For to me, of all the blows with which God has pursued our sins, Andronicus is by far the most grievous of all. For in addition to the common calamities, he is a private evil for me. Through him, the tempter attacks, so that I might abandon the service of the altar. But I must ^D draw my discourse back a little, so that, having added to what you know those things which not everyone knows, I may make the teaching regarding the affairs concerning me consistent for you.

For it is well for the things that follow this that you should be my hearers. ^B From my earliest years, I considered that there is a divine good: leisure and ease of living. This, someone said, befits divine natures; this, indeed, it is to nurture the mind and to reconcile to God the one who possesses and enjoys it. As for the affairs that are customary for children, I had the least part in them, as well as those seen in adolescents and those in young men. And when I had reached a manly age, I differed in no way from a mere boy in regard to quiet and peace of life; but, spending my time as if in some festive celebration, I strove to keep the state of my soul tranquil and undisturbed by any waves.

Yet God did not for this reason make me useless to men, but often both private individuals and cities made use of my labors for the most significant opportunities. ^C For this had been granted to me by God: that while I could accomplish a great deal by my authority, I also desired what was best. Nothing of these occupations separated me from philosophy, nor took away my happy leisure. For it is then that time is consumed—when one does something violently and painfully, and not without labor—and the soul is immersed in the anxieties of affairs. But whoever serves by word alone—where persuasion follows promptly upon the speaker, and the efficacy of that discourse is greatest among the listeners—who would withhold his words, so that someone might be rescued from calamity? Man is an animal of great value: of great value, I say, since Christ was suspended on the cross for him. ^D As for me, the power to persuade men was perhaps granted to me by some divine lot until this present year; perhaps also it was because I entered into affairs reluctantly that I brought what I desired to a conclusion. But now the whole matter is found to have come to nothing, together with many other things which were not obscure benefits of God toward me; things which were manifestedly attributed by God, among which was that one...

^A I attributed; and I lived with the best hope in my way of life, just as in a certain religious enclosure, as a free animal, living freely, distinguishing my life between prayer, and books, and hunting. For in order that health might belong to both soul and body, one part must be labored for, and the other must be asked for from God. In this ease of living, I spent my years up to the burden of the priesthood, regarding the assumption of which I was more timid than those who had been so hitherto. I call as witness God, the ruler of all, whose secret mysteries I accepted for your sake, that apart from human grasping and worldly ambitions, I privately approached God Himself over many times and places, when, prone and with bended knees, I supplicated Him to grant me death before the priesthood. For a certain reverence and love for the tranquility of philosophy held me—for the sake of which I thought there was nothing I ought not to do and say. But after I was conquered by God, having been overcome by men—as common report has it, that he who has been deemed worthy of that honor becomes a familiar of God—I bore indeed, but unwillingly and reluctantly, this new and unusual way of life: and even as I was meditating flight ^B the hope of good things and the fear of worse things recalled me from my purpose. Moreover, I heard this from holy elders, that I am governed by God. And another certain one used these words: "It is the Holy Spirit who is joyful, and He makes those who partake of Him joyful." And he added that demons had contended with God concerning me, claiming that I would bring grief to the better part. And even though they weave some annoyances, he said, "A philosopher consecrated to God is never neglected." But I, since I am not easily puffed up, and am not accustomed to think magnificently of myself, accused my own unhappiness; yet I did not determine that this had happened to me through any envy of a demon. For I do not take so much virtue unto myself, that this could move envy. But this one thing frightened me more, lest, while I myself was subject to punishments, I might treat the divine mysteries unworthily. And I foreboded in my mind that calamity into which I have not fallen little by little, but as soon as I arrived here, all kinds of evils were ^C present to me: of which the provider is Andronicus, a Mars-bearing demon, insatiable of calamities, persecuting the remains of the fatherland. Alas! Alas! Throughout the whole forum it was heard. The groans of men, I say, the wailings of women, the lamentations of children; finally, he imparted to the fatherland the appearance of a captured city: of which, taking away the most beautiful part, he caused it to be called a place of execution, and converted the royal portico, where justice was once spoken, into a slaughterhouse. This he turned into an altar and a table for the avenging demons, into whose number he has aggregated himself. Oh, how many citizens did he entertain with tears! What Tauric Scythians, what Spartans ever honored the Artemis among them with such blood flowing from whips? The running of all was straight toward me; and from every side I was immediately struck by the hearing and sight of evils. Having admonished, I did not persuade; having rebuked, I provoked. The present time has put to the test our weakness, which until now God ^D kept hidden from men; for having always enjoyed the honor of those who were spared, I provided my fatherland with a suspicion of power. And this is the most grievous of the things that have happened to me. For I am judged according to the expectation of those who have not known me. For I do not persuade them when I say that I am not able, but rather I am deemed worthy of being able to do all things that are just. It remains, therefore, [for me] to be ashamed and...

to be overwhelmed with grief. ^A Hence follows a sudden commotion in my soul, a variety of cares and anxieties, shadows and appearances of business, and God departs far away. Wherefore, if the things which Andronicus is devising are the incursions of demons, they have succeeded as much as he wished. I no longer perceived the usual sweetness in my prayers; though the form of prayer was there, I myself was carried away everywhere by the things [I was dealing with], distracted by anger, grief, and every kind of emotion. And yet, with the mind itself, we are in the company of God. The tongue serves men for the things that pertain to men. If, therefore, there is a lack of attention in prayer, I have failed, and disaster follows hard upon the attempt; for the change in my life has not only brought me to this evil—that I have found my business from a lack of leisure—but I, who had been until recently free from grief, have looked upon a dead man whose death I wished to have preceded. So bitterly has the city welcomed us with its initial greetings. As if for men, affairs fluctuate now up, now down, and bring with them a rush of many things—now prosperous, now disastrous. But since it befell me to lose the dearest of my children, I nearly did something terrible to myself; so thoroughly had I been captured by the passion. I am indeed, for the most part, a man of courage—I speak to those who know—and in many things a servant of the Word; yet I am so much a slave to habit that, in this regard, my irrationality overcomes my reason. Thus, not even by the dogmas of philosophy could I overcome my present passion. But Andronicus drove me to the opposite side, and made me occupy my mind with our common calamities. And my calamities have become remedies for my calamities, as they pull me toward themselves from the opposite direction, and by [means of] pain, repel pain. ^B Therefore, together with the painful perception of present evils, there comes the recollection of past goods, as I consider from what state we have fallen into what state we are now. Thus, I lead an unpleasant life, stripped of all things at once. Now, what is the greatest of all evils, and what makes my life seem utterly desperate, is that while I have not been accustomed to fail in my prayers poured out to God, now for the first time I feel that I have prayed in vain. Then I see my unhappy house; I am compelled to dwell in a fatherland oppressed by miseries. And being exposed to all, so that they might deposit their troubles into my bosom, and each one might lament their private misfortunes to me, I follow them with a useless commiseration. Moreover, it is added to my shame that a citizen—a man who has used his misfortunes, and who has demanded the public gold in excess of ten thousand staters—has decided, knowing no delay, to put him to death.

or rather to do so on my account; for it is on my account that he has confined him in an impregnable fortress—the kind of place where the poets imagine the Titans to have been bound. ^B And, he says, so that he may not be snatched away by me, this fifth day the man must remain without food, with the guards forbidden to let any bread be brought in. Yet, when he was recently crying out, everyone heard him say that the death of a man fulfilling a public duty would be more useful to him than a thousand staters. For this reason, he strikes fear into those who approach him regarding the purchasing of lands, terrifies them, and deters them in every possible way. For it is not, I think, the gold that he needs; it is the death of the man that he needs. I am neither strong enough to assault fortified walls, nor clever enough to creep in and rescue the man from his calamity. And no one, they say, is introduced to anyone. For the subordinates are what they are by nature, but now they are shaping their lives after the example of Andronicus, who seems to preside over the office of shaming the Church. As for what he does to me, it is of no account. Indeed, I would even feel grateful to him, accepting this dishonor for the sake of God as a martyrdom. ^C For do you remember who I was to him, I who stemmed from ancestors who were—from Eurysthenes, who led the Dorians into Sparta, down to my own father, my lineage was inscribed in the public records—a man who cannot even state the name of his grandfather, nor even his father, they say, except insofar as he can guess? He has leapt from a tuna-fishing look-out to a governor’s chariot. Let him, therefore, who admires that sort of splendor in the city, be ashamed of his shortcomings. But I, for my part, up to the time of my priesthood, was filled with honor and never tasted dishonor. Now, however, I am neither delighted if I am honored, nor am I vexed if I am held in contempt. For neither of these seems to occur to me any longer from the one who inflicts it; rather, both have reference to God. ^D Therefore, this man, who dares everything, seeing that he provoked nothing by his words or his deeds, has risen up against us and is contending with God Himself. He has let out cries before the assembled and surrounding people, which you will hear as soon as the letter is read that has been written to the universal Church throughout the world. Such is an uneducated nature that has seized power; it attempts to strike the very heavens with its head. Let it be so; let him exert his power; let him use his nature and the occasion; let him kill and bind whichever of the citizens he pleases. For us, it is enough, as we persevere in the order in which we have been placed by God, to be set apart from the fellowship of wicked men, And to keep our ears free from impious insults.

^A To despair of the patronage for the oppressed, or to have obtained a just excuse before the people for a vain attempt—this would have been an act of a man possessed of some excellent wisdom even before the trial. But now, we have waited for you to come to a common judgment based on the course of events, namely, that to join political virtue with the priesthood is like trying to weave together things that cannot be woven.

Prisca tempora—ancient times—brought forth the same men as priests and judges. For the Egyptians, and the race of the Hebrews, were for a long time governed by the rule of priests. But afterwards, as it seems to me, the divine work began to be performed in a human fashion, and God separated both ways of life; and one of these was established as sacred, and the other for rule and authority. For He turned some toward the dregs of base affairs, and others He joined to Himself: the former were placed in public business, we in prayer. ^B Yet God requires from both that which is honorable and consistent. Why, therefore, do you reach back to that ancient state? Why do you wish to join together those things which God has separated? You, who ask us not to govern, but by governing to be corrupted; than which, what can be more wretched? Do you have need of a patron? Go to him who is set over the laws of the state. Do you have need of God in some matter? Go to the priest of the city. That is not to say that you will necessarily obtain your desire there, but that I shall exert every effort toward it. If someone grants me leave to remain at peace, perhaps one day I shall be able to do so; for at the same time that a priest turns away from the dregs of earthly things, he turns toward God. Contemplation is the end of the priesthood, if one does not falsely usurp that title for himself. ^C But contemplation and action do not by any means come together. For the impulse of the will is a movement toward action, and no action can exist without some emotion. But that soul which is to be the receptacle of God must be free from all emotions. For, he says, to the impure it is an abomination to touch that which is pure. "Be still, and know that I am God." Vacation is needed by him who serves the sacred offices with a study of philosophy. Nor do I condemn the bishops who are detained by worldly business; but since I know that it is with difficulty that I can attain one of these, I am wont to admire those who are able to perform both. It is not within my strength to serve two masters. But if there are some to be found in whom the descent of the mind to inferior matters brings no harm, ^D those men may deservedly be priests and rule over cities. The sun’s ray, even if it touches mud, remains pure and undefiled; but if I were to do the same, I should have need of springs and the sea. And if it were possible for an angel, having lived among men for more than thirty years, to sustain nothing of the evils of matter in approaching them, why was it necessary for the Son of God to descend? But there is a superabundance of power in Him, so that while He dwelt with men He remained in His own nature, and suffered no harm in any way. This is a hymn to God; but for a man, it becomes a retraction, as he is cautious of the weakness of his own nature.

DION. PETAVIUS’S NOTES.

^A If an angel could live for more than thirty years among men in such a way that no contagion of evils from the material world could redound upon him, what need is there for the Son of God to descend? But there is a certain abundance of strength, to be so occupied among the worse things as to stand firm in the state of nature, and in no way to be infected by them. This is the praise and proclamation of God. But for a man who fears the weakness of his own nature, that is a thing to be shunned. I shall live among you according to these principles. I shall not, however, deprive myself of the judgment of times and opportunities, so that, when it is possible, I may lower myself to lesser matters: this is to accomplish some great good with light care and attention, just as God Himself is accustomed to act. But to be affected and deeply attached, this is truly an evil; which neither the nature of God sustains, nor anyone who shapes himself according to the example of God. ^B If I have taken on the care and anxiety of money and possessions; if you know me to be receiving accounts of daily and annual expenditures, then I am sparing of time in matters that pertain to you, and I am vain and arrogant, and I do not ask to be forgiven. But if, having first set aside the care of household affairs, I have placed my life in the activity of the mind; what is it to be wondered at if I require the same from you? But since we are not pleasing to you in these things, as if there were others who could rightly conduct themselves in both ways, you are free to take counsel as to what is more advantageous for the city, for the Churches, and for me. I do not renounce the priesthood, lest Andronicus should possess so much power. But just as I was neither a professional philosopher, nor did I dedicate myself to theatrical spectacles, nor did I open a school; ^C and yet I was and still am a philosopher; so neither do I wish to be a professional priest. Not everyone can do everything. I, having been alone with myself, and through the mind with God, descending from contemplation, can engage in conversations that are not useless with one or two; and not even these are the vulgar sort, but if there be any who have been endowed by nature, or fortunately trained, such that they prize the mind above the body. Moreover, by applying myself to business at long intervals, which I shall do for my own convenience, I can be useful when the time comes. But if I am overwhelmed by these tasks, not only do I become forgetful of myself, but I also cause harm to the affairs themselves. For it is impossible that what one loathes, one should perform correctly and in order. ^D But whoever does not do something from the whole intent of his soul, approaches the work languid and sad, even though it is fitting that he should preside over it. On the contrary, he who is a stranger to leisure, and in no way can be empty or take a holiday from business: but as great as he is, he is most useful to the people, and a mind capable of many things, sufficient to sustain the care of all: and because he is so fashioned by nature, he strives to show himself of such a kind; and he who is so affected, is even [fit for] occupations and...

...has a greater aptitude for affairs, who may feel a liking for the tasks that draw him to them. For they provide subject matter for his nature; and it is the greatest aid to the accomplishment of one’s work to love the very thing that is being done. Wherefore, someone must be chosen by you who is most useful of all, and who is to be chosen in our place, since we can only with the greatest difficulty be preserved. Why have you cried out? Is it because the thing has not yet been done, that it is therefore not fitting that it should come to pass now? Time finds and corrects many things that were necessary. Not all things come to pass according to a precedent; and everything that has been done had a beginning; and before it was done, it had not yet been done. It is better to prefer utility to custom. Let us also give the beginning to a better custom. Therefore, for our sake, or along with us, someone must be chosen: a man must by all means be chosen. Whoever he may be, he will appear far more skilled than I in civil ^A affairs; and he will be able, for your sake, to reconcile and handle these wretched little men. Therefore, if this does not yet meet with your approval, let us defer it to the future. For it will be possible to consult about this matter privately and in common. Now, however, pay attention to what penalties have been decided upon by the council’s decree against the fury of Andronicus.

EPISTLE LVIII

To the bishops

Let no one deem or call Andronicus the Beronician—born, reared, and grown to manhood under the unlucky star of the Pentapolis, and who purchased with money the governorship of the land that bore him—a Christian; but as one accursed by God, let him be cast out, together with his entire household, from every Church. Not because he became the final plague ^B of the Pentapolis—following the earthquake, the locusts, the pestilence, the conflagration, and the war—by diligently pursuing the survivors of all those things; and by being the first to introduce into the province (would that it were permitted to learn, and that he were the only one to use!) horrible forms and types of torture instruments: the finger-rack, the foot-crusher, the press, the nose-squeezer, and the pincers for tearing at ears and lips; ^C of which those who perished in the war, before they could experience or see such things, were called happy by those who were miserably delivered; but because he was the first among us, and the only one, to blaspheme against Christ by both deed and word. By deed, since he nailed his own edicts to the doors of the church, by which he debarred those who were being harassed by him from access to and supplication at the holy altar, as if it were a place of asylum; and toward the priests of God, he threatened those things which even Phalaris the Acragantine, or Chephren the Egyptian, or Sennacherib the Babylonian—he who sent messengers to Jerusalem to utter insults against Hezekiah and against God—would have hesitated to threaten. I say that on that day he brought a second cross to God. For because of the insult to Christ, that abusive pamphlet hung from the sacred doors. And the sun saw this, and men read it; not ^D while Tiberius Claudius was administering the republic, from whom Pilate was sent to the prefecture of the Jews, but while the pious line of Theodosius was moderating the scepters of the Romans, from which Andronicus furtively solicited the prefecture for himself, being endowed with the same mind as Pilate. Those tablets were a mockery to the infidels passing by, just as to the Jews were those things...

appended to the cross of Christ. ^A Yet even the title of the cross, though it originated from an impious mind, was reverent in its phrasing, for by it Christ was proclaimed King. In that instance, the tongue was in agreement with the mind. But what happened subsequently was far more grievous than those things which were affixed. For since he had found some pretext against an enemy (and the enmity between them was that the one was seeking a marriage [for another], while the other forbade it), he set about to torture him with such hellish torments as ought not to be handed down to the succession of time; but may they cease with him, and may these things become for those who come after us only a rumor of the magistracy of Andronicus. Since, therefore, a noble man—who was committing no wrong, but was merely unfortunate—was being put to death for these things, and that too at the most sweltering hour of midday, ^B so that he might perish with only the executioners as witnesses; and since he perceived that the Church was sympathetic toward him—not for any other reason, but because, as soon as we learned of it, we ran out, as we were, to sit by his side and share in his affliction—at hearing this, he was driven headlong by fury; that any bishop should dare to pity a man to whom he himself was an enemy. And having acted lawlessly in many ways, with that most insolent of his servants, Thoas—whom he uses as an instrument for public calamities—inciting him, he put an end to his madness by uttering that most godless declaration, that he had hoped in vain in the Church, and that no one could be snatched from the hands of Andronicus, not even if he were to clasp the very feet of Christ. Thrice he uttered this saying with an uninstructed mind and tongue, after which the man is no longer to be admonished, but, as an incurably diseased limb, must be excised from among us, ^C lest the healthy part also be corrupted by the communion. For contagion is transmissible, and he who touches the unclean partakes of the pollution. It is necessary for us to be pure before God in both mind and body. On account of these things, the Church of Ptolemais has decreed that these things be proclaimed to all her sister Churches throughout the earth:

To Andronicus and his associates, and to Thoas and his associates, let no temple of God be opened. Let every holy house and precinct be closed to them.

and we shall not join our right hand with him, nor eat from the same table again. So far are we from communicating the holy mysteries to those who wish to have a share with Andronicus and Thoas. ^A

LETTER LIX. To Anysius.

I have entrusted letters to this man, for although he is a philosopher at heart, he is an orator by art and profession. So long as Anysius was present, and the Pentapolis still existed, he continued to practice that art among us. But since the time following your departure has sold us to the enemy and brought a suspension of legal proceedings upon us, he has decided to sail to another forum, where the tongue is for sale—which is the trade of orators—and renders the orator famous. Ensure that you secure for him the familiarity of some man who has been appointed to the prefecture of nations; and I call God, the guardian of your friendship and mine, to witness that the very person from whom you will request the favor will thank you even more when he returns after the danger has passed. ^B

LETTER LX. To Auxentius.

If I were to accuse you of the injury inflicted upon our friendship, I would convict you by the verdict of all, with God and divine men as judges. For what had I to do with the enmities that you were nursing against my brother? For when he, against my wishes, was conducting his affairs in the republic against Sabbatius, who is of blessed memory, and you could not sway him with your speech, you turned all your anger upon me and inflicted whatever harm you could. I, for my part, at the time when it was permitted, accepted your declaration of hostilities. But now, it is neither permitted, nor do I desire it. For my age itself, doing its work well, extinguishes all ambition, and the sacred laws, as they say, forbid it. ^C Furthermore, I am reminded of our common education, training, and the time we spent together in Cyrene: all of which must be considered stronger than the grievances of Sabbatius. Come then, begin to cultivate friendship, that most excellent thing, and accept many greetings from me, who consider the whole time I remained silent as a loss; how much sorrow do you think I was feeling even then? Yet I endured it as best I could. Such is the evil of ambitious contention.

LETTER LXI. To Pylæmenes.

A large Egyptian carpet—not one that is placed under a mattress, but one that can serve as a mattress all by itself—Asterius the notary, upon seeing it, requested from me at the time when I was obliged to sleep before the palace. I promised to leave it behind for him as a gift when I departed. For it was not fitting for me, as I was struggling against the snows of Thrace, to give away anything of that sort. ^D I am sending it to him now, for at that time I did not leave it behind; but you will give it to him, along with an explanation, for which you yourself will be a witness if you recall the times and the manner in which I departed from the city. For at that time, of the day...

the earth was shaken ^A more frequently, and men were everywhere casting themselves into prayer, for the very ground was trembling. In this situation, believing the sea to be safer than the land and the deep more secure, I hastened my journey to the harbor, speaking to no one except the blessed Photius, and him I summoned from afar with a shout, signaling with my hand that I was about to depart. But he, having left the distinguished friend and consul Aurelian unsaluted, has his excuse for the same matter with the official Asterius. And that is how it happened at the time. However, although since my departure from there the ship might now be sent for the third time to the regions of Thrace, yet it is now sent by me for the first time. Wherefore, now that it is first possible for me, I discharge my debt through you. Do me a favor and find the man. I have already indicated his name and profession, but I must add more identifying marks (for it might be that someone else exists with the same name and profession; though it is difficult for all things to coincide in the same person; yet it could happen in time). He is a Syrian by race, black in color, thin in face, moderate in stature. He lives near the royal palace—not the public one, but that which is behind it, which formerly belonged to Ablavius, but now belongs to Placidia, the sister of the emperors. ^B If he has moved elsewhere (for this sometimes happens), then you should look for Marcus, a very well-known man from the prefect’s guard, who at that time was in charge of the school of shorthand writers, in which Asterius was enrolled. Thus, through Marcus, you will find the rank itself, in which Asterius was not the last, but third or perhaps fourth; now, perhaps, he is the first. You will give him that thick rug, and explain to him whatever we have written to you about the timing, or even, if you so please, read this letter to him. For the war does not grant us enough leisure to write to him; but that we should be just, perhaps nothing prevents. Far be it that arms should ever have such power.

LETTER LXII

The reward of virtue is praise, which we bestow ^D upon the most distinguished Marcellinus, now that he has departed from his magistracy; now that there is no suspicion of any flattery. Having received the cities ^C vexed by war—from without by the multitude and barbarian fury, and from within by military insolence and the [injustice] of the commanders.

avarice, offering himself like some god, he both vanquished his enemies in a single battle and, by daily diligence, made those under him more temperate, and granted peace to both cities, free from these troubles. He despised gains which long custom had made to seem almost legitimate. He did not covet wealth; he did not behave insultingly toward poverty; he cultivated piety toward God, justice toward his fellow citizens, and humanity toward those in need. For this reason, the philosopher priest is not ashamed to praise him; from him no one has ever managed to extort a testimony corrupted by favor. We would indeed have wished ourselves to be present at that assembly of judges where all the people of Ptolemais, publicly and privately, might have contributed, if not a gift equal to his merits, then at least one we were surely capable of; since a speech can in no way match the deeds themselves. Indeed, I would have then delivered an oration in the name of the whole community. But since he is removed from us by a great distance, we have entrusted our testimony about him to a letter, not being solicited, but soliciting of our own accord.

LETTER LXIII

LETTER LXIV

LETTER LXV

LETTER LXVI

LETTER LXIII

LETTER LXIV

LETTER LXV

LETTER LXVI

^A prevailed, this discord continued for some time. But why should I describe these things to one who knows them, or rather to the very person who managed the whole business of the reconciliation? Especially since I have read a certain learned and clever document which you wrote, as I believe, to the blessed Atticus, in which you were urging him to receive these men. Up to this point, then, Alexander's case was common with the others who had defected. But it is a special point—or rather one common with a few others—that it is now the third year since the contentions were settled and peace was reconciled; yet he has not traveled straight to Bithynia, nor has he returned to the see that fell to him. He remains among us, as if it were of no concern to him if someone treats him in a private capacity. For my part, I have not been long instructed in the sacred laws, nor is it fitting that I should have learned a great deal, having been added to the number of bishops not even a year ago. But when I observed certain elders—who did not pretend to know anything certain, yet were in great fear lest they might inadvertently offend against some canon of the Church, and for this reason acted toward him with extreme harshness, and on account of an uncertain suspicion cast certain infamy upon the stranger, so much so that they would not even hold him under a common roof—I neither reproved them nor did I imitate them. Do you know then, most venerable Father, how I acted? I did not receive him into the Church, nor did I share the holy table with him; ^B but at home, I honored him just as I did the innocent; such is my manner of treating the local people as well. Whenever one of them becomes our guest, we defer to him in every act and word that involves honor, thinking those people to be babblers who are angry because we diminish the maternal rights of the city. Although, because of this, I carry the cares of all upon my shoulders, and I alone am devoid of leisure for the sake of the leisure of all. But it will be counted as a good thing for me before God, that I should have more of labor, and less of honor and dignity. And as for this Alexander, whenever I go to church, I could wish not to see him anywhere in the marketplace; but when it happens that I do see him, I turn my eyes elsewhere, and a blush immediately spreads across my cheek. If he has crossed into my own courtyard, and become a guest in my house, I honor him with all fitting respect. Why then am I at odds with myself in private and in public, acting in neither case according to my own resolve? But I in part yield to the law, and in part I comply with nature, which is inclined toward philanthropy. And yet, I would have done violence to nature, if I knew anything certain regarding the law. This, therefore, is the sum of our inquiry, to which the authority of the evangelical ^C succession must answer simply and clearly, and just as I am asking: must one consider Alexander a bishop, or not?

NOTES OF DIONYSIUS PETAVIUS

EPITSTOLA LXVII: TO THE SAME

^A I both will and am under a divine necessity to consider as law whatever that throne decrees. For this reason, putting aside my mournful preoccupation and rousing my body, still ailing and prone to fatigue, and having traveled through the region under suspicion—the one that had been cut off by hostile arms—I arrived at Palaebisca and Hydrax. These are villages of the Pentapolis, and the very borders of the thirsty Libya. There I gathered the people and read the letters—some of which I read aloud, while others I delivered (for some were directed to them, and others concerned them and were directed to me). Having gone through the points suitable for an election, to persuade them and, if it should prove possible, to induce even those who were reluctant to deliberate about choosing a bishop, I could not in the least overcome the people’s zeal for the most pious Paul. I wish to be trusted by a father; it was not my desire to have made the journey in vain. I ran into the opposition of the people, who had been treating me with special honor. The most conspicuous among them—if anyone cried out too loudly, or if anyone found a base, climbed upon it, and took it upon himself to be a spokesman and deliver a speech—I ordered to be seized by the hands of the lictors, as if they were mercenaries or conspirators, and driven out and expelled from the church. ^B Having restored the people again and again after they had been thrown into confusion, I went through every path of discourse, extolling that high-priestly throne and persuading them that through the slighting or honoring of you, God Himself is either slighted or honored. But they, with a cheering voice, called upon the blessed name of your God-fearing self, and falling down, they supplicated as if you were present, making their outcries and lamentations. The crowd of men, though beyond expectation, was nevertheless more moderate; but the women—it is a class difficult to handle—lifting up their hands, holding out their infants, and closing their eyes so that they might not look upon the throne ^C bereft of its usual shepherd, came near to making us, who were acting in the opposite way, succumb to a similar passion.

DIONYSII PETAVII NOTES

(92) Theophilus of Alexandria had entrusted some ecclesiastical matters to Synesius, bishop of the Pentapolis, namely, that he should investigate the case of Paul, bishop of Erythrum, and other matters about which we shall give notice one by one. The present letter, which seems to have been written around the year 411, gives an account of all these. For in the following year Theophilus departed from this life.

(93) The dispute, which Synesius was permitted to settle, seems to have been of this nature: Erythrum was a village or town of the Pentapolitan province, of which Paul was bishop. Neighboring this town were two villages, Palaebisca and Hydrax, which from ancient times were attached to it in matters pertaining to sacred things. But under Orion, the bishop of Erythrum, both these churches were severed from Erythrum and had their own bishop, Siderius, in the time of Valens. Since Athanasius had glossed over this due to the difficulty of the times, he transferred Siderius thence to the metropolitan see of Ptolemais, from which ^D he returned again to his own villages. Theophilus later ordered that these, having been vacated by his death, should return to the original see of Erythrum and thenceforth be devoid of their own bishop. But since some had struggled in the meantime that a separate bishop should again be ordained there, and Theophilus had appointed Synesius as the overseer of this business; the villagers, who out of love for Paul of Erythrum preferred to be attached to Erythrum rather than to be under another, resisted more vehemently, relying on the ancient right of that Church, to which the new intrusion of a bishop into Palaebisca ought not to have been a prejudice. It had been provided by the ancient canons that bishops should not be created in villages and small towns, so that that dignity might not grow cheap because of the obscurity of the place. Of this, the Council of Laodicea and the 6th Canon of Sardica exist. And so, a bishop had been wrongly established there. Which, however, Theophilus wished to restore; and by his mandate Synesius attempted to bring this about, until he ceased to pursue it, overcome by the consensus of the people.

^A To avoid this, and fearing—for I perceived I was being driven into this—I dissolved the assembly. I announced that they should return on the fourth day, having invoked the most terrible curses upon any who, whether hired or by necessity of service, or favor, or for any private interest of their own, should utter a word contrary to the due obedience of the Church. The day arrived, and the people were present again, determined to clamor and contend, not even waiting for an inquiry. But suddenly everything was thrown into confusion; there was a jumbled, indistinguishable din of voices, which was the more striking to the ears. When the sacred heralds commanded silence, the shouting turned into lamentation. It was a mournful sound: the groaning of men, the wailing of women, the crying of children. One said he missed a father, another a son, another a brother; in this way did the names of kinship divide itself according to age. ^B While I was attempting to say something in the interval, a petition was produced from the midst of the crowd. Someone asked that it be read aloud to everyone. It contained nothing but an adjuration that I should cease attempting to force the will of the populace and should defer the deliberation until it might be possible for them to send a decree and an envoy regarding this matter to your most blessed self. Rather, they begged me to be their advocate by letter, teaching what I had learned. It was stated, therefore, in the council by the presbyters, and publicly by the multitude, and the document itself set forth each of these points: that it was ancestral and apostolic that these Churches be attached to Erythrum; but that they had defected from the blessed Orion, who was then advanced in years, and to whom the greatest ease was imputed as a fault. For it was now beginning to be used as a reproach among those who think that the priesthood should also be a protection and patronage in human affairs, and that one should be involved in the action of such matters. ^C And since he lived for a long time, they said they did not wait for the end of the righteous man, but chose the blessed Siderius. For he seemed to be a young man and an active one, arriving from the service of the Emperor Valens to administer the requested lands—such a man as could both harm enemies and benefit friends. At that time, the heresies were prevailing. For they were superior in number; and the sharpness of his mind, which was an instrument of wisdom, found its opportunity. This man, therefore, was acknowledged as the one and only bishop of Palaedisca. But not even he was canonically—uncanonically, then ^D (94), as far as those...

DION. PETAVII NOTES.

(94) Canon 4 of Nicaea orders a bishop to be appointed by all those of the province, if this can conveniently be done. But if not, that three at least should be present, who have the consent of the others expressed in writing. The validity of those things which are done in each province is to be granted to the metropolitan bishop. In this canon, the matter concerns the very creation or election of a bishop, which used to be permitted to the suffrages of the people in such a way that bishops were present to moderate and govern them, or rather presided over them. Nor should Balsamon be listened to, who observes regarding this canon that formerly bishops were accustomed to be chosen by the people; but because sometimes certain things less becoming and honest were bandied about concerning their life when casting votes, that custom was abrogated by this canon, and thereafter it was decreed that the election should be made by bishops. Nothing can be said more absurd than this. For that Nicene canon did not abolish popular suffrages, but ordered the authority of the bishops to be applied to moderating them, or together with them, as I said. Just as at Athens, the "proedri" [presidents] were present at popular assemblies, as Julius Pollux teaches in Book VIII, and Harpocration. And indeed, long after the Council of Nicaea, it persisted in the Church that bishops should be created by the people; and the decrees of both Roman pontiffs and councils confirmed this. Pope Celestine to the bishops...

^A the cunning of managing affairs, which is the administrator of prudence. Wherefore he was the one and only bishop created for Palaebisca. But not even he [was created] legitimately, nay, rather against all laws, as much as I have learned from the elders: for he is neither from Alexandria, nor was he constituted here by three [bishops], although the power of ordaining from there had been granted. For they say that only blessed Philon of memory dared to proclaim his fellow priest bishop. This man was a Cyrenian, even older [or, older still], both an uncle and namesake of the younger: in other matters, being such as Christ’s training would have it; but in matters regarding ruling and being ruled, he was more bold than legal.

DIONYSII PETAVII NOTES. Narbonense council, can. 5: Let no bishop be given to those who are unwilling; let the consensus and desire of the clergy, the people, and the order be required. Leo the Great, epist. 89: Certainly the votes of the citizens and the testimonies of the peoples should be expected; the judgment of the honorable and the election of the clergy should be sought; for these things are accustomed to be observed in the ordinations of priests by those who know the rules of the Fathers. And a little later: Let the subscription of the clergy, the testimony of the honorable, [and] the consensus of the order and of the people be held; he who is to be over all, let him be elected by all. Carthaginian IV, can. 1: That when he has been suitably approved, with the consensus of the clergy and laity, and the assembly of the bishops of the whole province, and especially by the authority or presence of the metropolitan, a bishop should be ordained. But the Arles council II, can. 54, decreed: It has pleased that this order be observed in the ordination of a bishop, that in the first place, with venality or ambition removed, three be named by the bishops, from whom the clergy or citizens may have the power of choosing one. See also Synesius’s epist. 76, where Antonius is said to have been created bishop by the whole people of the Olbiates. But in a routine and common matter there is no need for testimonies. In the creation of that bishop, of whom Synesius wrote, he says that it was twofoldly committed against ecclesiastical laws. First, because he was not constituted at Alexandria. But I interpret this thus: that he was created without the order of the Alexandrian bishop, and no power was granted by him. For it was not necessary that all bishops, even of the smallest towns and even villages, of the kind that Palaebisca and Hydrax were, be ordained at Alexandria; especially since Synesius signifies that he had come to those villages [LVII] by the mandate of Theophilus for the purpose of holding an assembly there for creating a bishop, not that he should send those to be created to Alexandria. Furthermore, in epist. 76, he says that he was summoned by the Olbiates, and that he, with two other colleagues, had instituted a bishop there, whom all the people had petitioned to be given to them, which election he desired to have held as ratified by Theophilus. Wherefore I believe those words, "and not in Alexandria was he constituted," are explained by the following, "and even if the signal for ordination had been given from there." A second thing was not rightly done: that even though they had obtained the license to create a bishop there from the Alexandrian patriarch, he was not instituted by three bishops, as the canons prescribe. It is ambiguous ofont what creation of a bishop Synesius speaks. For *cheirotonia* sometimes signifies only the election, which is made by the suffrage of the people, clergy, and bishops, without consecration, as it is constituted in the Laodicean canon 5: "Concerning the fact that ordinations ought not to be made in the presence of hearers." At other times it expresses *cheirothesia*, i.e., consecration. If he understands this latter, there is no doubt that they sinned most gravely in that ordination, and that it was void. Thus in the council of Riez in Gallia Narbonensis II, the creation of Armentarius, who had been ordained at Embrun by two [bishops], is deemed void: "The ordination," they say in can. 2, "which the canons define as void, we also have judged must be annulled; in which, with the presence of three [bishops] omitted, and without seeking the letters of the comprovincials, and also with the will of the metropolitan neglected, absolutely nothing that would make a bishop was shown." ^B Regarding the former also, it seems not less provided against: nay truly, one should accept for that the Nicene canon 4, which orders at least three bishops to take part in the election of a bishop, in the same way as Innocentius [writes] in his epistle to Victricius of Rouen, cap. 1, whose passages pertain to this place of Synesius: "First, that no one should dare to ordain a bishop without the knowledge of the metropolitan. For it is an entire judgment which is confirmed by the decisions of many. Nor let one bishop presume to ordain a bishop, lest a furtive benefit appear to have been performed." For this was also constituted and defined in the Nicene synod. But even before Nicaea, the first council of Arles, can. 20, thus decreed: "Concerning those who usurp for themselves what they alone ought to ordain bishops, it has pleased that no one presume this for himself, unless he has taken with him seven other bishops. But if he cannot get seven, he should at least not dare to ordain with fewer than three." Which perhaps pertains to both kinds of *cheirotonia*. Of which, I think, Synesius also speaks, and his words show it. For he calls it *anarrhesis* [proclamation], and *apodeixai* [to demonstrate], and *epi tou thronou kathisai* [to seat on the throne]. Furthermore, regarding the simple election to be made by at least three, the 43rd canon in the Greek collection of Carthage is clear. The first of their canons, which are called apostolic, orders a bishop to be *cheirotoneisthai* [ordained/elected] by two or three bishops, where *cheirotonia* does not signify election, but *teleiourgian*, that is, consecration, as Zonaras and Balsamon teach. But it was never allowed for a bishop to be consecrated by two [bishops]: which also the Nicene canon 4 cited a little earlier shows. And otherwise those canons were held by Gelasius among the apocrypha. But Zonaras ^C compares this apostolic canon with the Laodicean canon 5, which forbids the *cheirotonias* [ordinations/elections] of bishops to be made before hearers, that is, catechumens, and observes that *cheirotonian* here is *psephon* [voting], not consecration. Since, he says, consecration is made before many; but in an election, when various crimes are sometimes [LVIII] objected, it is not lawful for more to be present. Which reasoning is utterly alien [to the text]. For the Laodicean [canon] does not exclude the faithful people from the election of bishops, but only the *akroōmenous* [hearers], that is, the catechumens [who are] not yet faithful. Finally, that which the Nicene canon decreed concerning the *kyros* [authority/right] of things being done being attributed to the metropolitan, it understands authority, that specifically by his order and permission, the assemblies should be held; then, that what will have been done should be confirmed by him; which later [point] Zonaras and Balsamon understood alone in interpreting that canon. The former of whom also thinks *kathierōsin* [consecration] is signified by *cheirothesian*, as if he were to be consecrated by the metropolitan later. But this canon intended not only that, but that the election and consecration of the bishop should be managed in his presence, or at least by his nod and will. Something more, however, seems to have been required in the creation of bishops in the diocese of the Alexandrian patriarch; that such right should not rest solely with the metropolitans, but that the authority should be sought from the patriarch himself. For the metropolitan of the Pentapolitan province was the bishop of Ptolemais, as Synesius indicates immediately. See epist. 76.

^A Yet I ask forgiveness from the holy soul of the elder for this speech. I ask only to show that he alone came and enthroned the blessed Siderius. But necessity arises in times lacking freedom of speech to overstep exactness. For this reason, the great Athanasius yielded to the times; and not long after, when there was need to cherish and further kindle the small remaining spark of orthodoxy in Ptolemais, he ordered this man, as one suitable for greater affairs, to go there to govern the metropolitan Church. Old age, however, brought him back to the village churches; having left them, he had no successor, nor did he himself succeed another. Palaebisca and Hydrax were restored to their ancient order and were joined to Erythrum, by the decree, they say, of your venerable head ^B. And they insisted on this most of all, that a throne-appointment made by you ought not to be set aside. Indeed, they could not produce letters, for I asked for them; but they brought forward bishops from the council as witnesses. These said that, obeying a letter that had come from there, they had proposed the question concerning Paul to the people; and when it pleased all to have him as bishop, they reported concerning him, and others were placed in the throne-appointments. And if you allow me to say, most venerable Father, that was truly the time for deliberation. For to take away was much more troublesome than not to grant. Nevertheless, let whatever has seemed best to your paternity prevail even now. For if what was decided then has become just to them, and they put this forward; the fact that it no longer seems so does not change what is just. Wherefore, whatever you decide, that becomes just for the multitude. For hearing is life, and disobedience is death. Therefore, they do not lift up hands ^C, but only pray and entreat that they may not be forced to be orphans while their father is still alive. For these are the very words they use. And I do not know whether I should praise or bless the young man for such general benevolence and zeal from all. For it is either by skill and power, or by divine grace, that he has so won over and demagogued the multitude that life without him seems to everyone unlivable. Therefore, it will seem that your humane nature should decide more humane things regarding them; but I must return to the city and there wait for the signal of your will. Whatever I have done in the four days I have spent in these places, and the manner in which I have arranged these things, you will not be ignorant. Nor should it seem strange to you if it happens that I sometimes praise and sometimes blame the same person. For neither is done for the same reasons: the matters themselves are what are praised and blamed. ^D Discord among Christian brethren, a good [index: DION. PETAVII NOTAE preserved]

thing, never arises at any time; nor is it less a virtue, when it has sprung up, that it be extinguished shortly after. For this very reason, yielding to your letter, I undertook to arbitrate the case, and I have lent my ears to the dispute in this manner. ^A In the village of Hydrax, there is a place, at the highest point of the village, which was once a very fortified castle; but after it was shaken down by the earthquake, it remained as ruins left behind. Until now, therefore, it had been adapted for various uses by a few in some of its parts. But as the times of war pressed in, since it could be walled around and returned to its original use, the possessors have come to consider it of very great value. Concerning this, there was the greatest contention between our brethren (as with others before), the most religious bishops Dioscorus and Paul. The Dardanite accused Erythrites, saying that he had entered into a most fraudulent plan, regarding how he might claim for himself what did not pertain to him, while he consecrated a foreign place to God, and after that usurped appearance of religion, he defended his deed by force and by hand. To these things the most religious Paul attempted to allege something: that he had occupied the slope first, and that it had already been an established church long before the most religious Dioscorus possessed that place. But while one does not sluggishly occupy oneself in the investigation of a case, the truth of the matter is quickly searched out; as indeed that whole argument was then discovered to be vain and futile. For the fact that men, compelled by a hostile incursion, prayed there out of necessity, does not consecrate that place. Otherwise all mountains and all valleys would be churches; nor would there be any castle which could not be public for that reason. In all of these, when the plundering enemies run about, prayers and sacred mysteries are wont to be celebrated. The judgment will be the same concerning all buildings which received prayers and sacred mysteries in the impious times of the Arians. These are nevertheless considered private property; for that also has the appearance of flight, since those were also enemies. But I was looking for the time of the consecrated church, whether it was done by those who freely bestowed it, or by the permission of those to whom it pertained. All things showed clearly that the opposite was true. One of the bishops begged to receive it; the other, to whom that possession belonged, refused. At length, he having gone away and carrying off the keys with him, the other burst it open, and bringing in a table, consecrated a small shrine on the vast hill. But there is nowhere any approach to the shrine except across the whole hill, and this had been craftily devised in order that he might usurp the slope for himself. ^D To me, indeed, that matter seemed bitter above all things, and greater than any bitterness; nor is it to be borne with an equal mind, both for the sake of the sacred laws and on account of the rights of the republic. For all things are being mingled together at once;

^A and it was known in the city. For it happened in such a way that, with few exceptions, all the bishops had gathered at Ptolemais for some civic deliberation. Upon hearing this, they loathed the deed itself, but dared not change it. I, however, desire that superstition be separated from piety. For that is a vice masquerading as a virtue, which philosophy has detected to be a third kind of impiety. I therefore consider nothing sacred or holy which has not been undertaken justly and lawfully. And it did not occur to me to shudder at that dedication which was being bruited about. For the things of the Christians are not of such a kind that, by those sacred elements of ceremony or by words, as if by some natural power of attraction, the Divine is necessarily led to follow—which might happen in the case of a worldly spirit—but rather that it approaches a disposition of mind free from disturbance and most closely united to God. But where unreasoning rage and anger, and a quarrelsome passion, lead the action, how can the Holy Spirit be present there, Who, even if He had begun to dwell therein, would depart upon the intrusion of such things? I, indeed, had taken the stance of decreeing the change; but he was clearly refuted, being shown to be one who, having previously promised it, was now confirming that very promise by oath. Seizing upon this gladly, I began to decline the delivery of a sentence; ^B I was making him his own judge, and compelling him to execute his own oath. But when he shirked and delayed, since I had betaken myself thither for the sake of ecclesiastical business, I found it necessary to come to the place itself and there to settle the controversy. Once again, a crowd of bishops from the neighboring regions gathered, having come there for various other reasons; in the presence of all of them, and of myself, both the boundaries were shown, clearly separating the Dardanite portion, and the testimony of the elders, and the agreement of those who had hitherto been in opposition, confirmed the most esteemed Dioscorus as the master of that place. And as our brother Dioscorus pressed the matter, necessity arose for the defamatory document, which the most esteemed Paul (99) had written to your Holiness ^C in the form of a letter, filled with base and petulant abuse against his brother, to be read to all in common, which, in the presence of the current matter, the most esteemed Paul, stronger than any rhetoric… ^D

DION. PETAVIUS’ NOTES. (97) *The translation/transposition of ᾤχνουν.* They thought it a sacrilege to excise everything, for whatever cause or by whomever occupied by sacred rites and religions, and to make it profane. In the Synod of Constantinople, under Mennas, in the book of the monks to Mennas, p. 648: "For even imperial laws decree that every place and thing in which, or by means of which, whether by error or by truth, anything sacred has been performed, belongs to the holy churches of God." (98) *To execute his own law/oath.* [Interpretations of the verb *ekbibazein* omitted]. (99) *The most esteemed Paul.* Budaeus, in his Commentaries, ironically calls Paul "this most esteemed" [one]. But there is no irony here. For this was a common title for bishops, such as reverend, venerable, and the Greek *thaumasios* [admirable].

^A a comedy, from which shame would redound not upon him who was ill-spoken of, but upon him who spoke ill. But to be affected with shame is truly the second best among good things. For to be free from sin is altogether a matter of divine condition and nature; but that blush which creeps in because of misdeeds, one might deservedly call [a sign] of modesty. Since the most religious Paul in the present matter had displayed this, he showed, with a device more powerful than any rhetorical art, the repentance he had sincerely undertaken. For because he confessed that he had sinned, and had conceived a shameful sorrow as if for a voluntary offense, he rendered us all well-disposed toward him, and affected in nearly the same way. And our own conduct in this matter is not to be wondered at. But the most religious Bishop Dioscorus, after he saw that he who had hitherto contended obstinately had become more moderate, although superior in the judgment of the arbiters, was overcome in his intent, so that it lay within the most religious Paul’s discretion to choose whether he wanted to keep the hill or return it; for the admirable Dioscorus conceded to many terms, of which he would not have endured to hear even one before this repentance. For he said he would sell only the slope, or that he would exchange this entire property for another thing, and he devised many other ways, abundantly supplying him with paths and reasons by which he who took ^B the opportunity to propose them might oblige him in return. But he rejected the other conditions; he desired, however, to succeed himself to the very purchase by which Dioscorus had possessed that place, and to be established in his stead as lord of the whole estate with precisely equal right. Thus he became, besides lord of the hill, also lord of the vineyards and olive groves. But he, in exchange for that minor possession, obtained a greater one of magnificence—namely, [that of] fraternal charity, which is the common good of both; and likewise this, that he might remain within the evangelical laws, which declare that all precepts are contained primarily by the affection of charity. It was fitting to commemorate and signify that one thing: the reconciliation and concord of the brothers; but [fitting] to omit what had happened in the interim, if the bishop had offended in any matter and had been convicted [of it]. For as for things which should not have been done, it seems advisable that they be erased by oblivion. But lest Dioscorus should have the inferior part in all things, I granted his request that all ^C things be set forth more accurately, so that nothing of this might escape your piety; for he was not concerned with trivialities, but rather considered it of the utmost importance to be convinced through the results that he had not contended out of injustice. And I, for my part, praise the man in other respects, for he is entirely to my liking, and I am carried away by the reverence [I hold] for that throne. And indeed, by your beloved and venerable self, I think those in Alexandria who are unfortunate [in their circumstances]—whose fields he cultivates, being quickly present everywhere, collecting taxes of his own accord, and standing by in times of need—owe him much gratitude. Such is the way the matter of the bishops' conflict proceeded. ^D Diocletian, having become emperor of the Romans, decreed that a large amount of grain be given each year by the populace of the Alexandrians to those in need. The populace at that time, having adjudicated this among themselves, passed it down to their descendants even until this day. But Hephaestus, from this source, took away two hundred myriads of medimni from those who were in short supply of the necessities of life and put them into the public treasury, [reducing] the grain provided by the emperors to comfort those who were staying in the city, and moreover the poor [as well]. [index: entries preserved]

^A Furthermore, you had given me a mandate that I should also hear Jason, who said that he had suffered many indignities from a fellow presbyter. This is how the matter stands in his regard: Jason convicted Lamponianus of wrongdoing; but the latter, having anticipated the conviction by a confession of his crime, paid the penalty, being separated from ecclesiastical communion. Although he shed tears from contrition of heart, and the people as suppliants begged that he be forgiven. But I remained steadfast in the things which I had once decreed; yet, as regards the lifting of [this sentence], I referred the authority to the priestly chair. This much, therefore, I granted to myself: ^B if a fatal necessity were to threaten Lamponianus, and the appointed day of death seemed to be at hand, then I conceded to all the presbyters who might be present at that time that they should restore him to communion. For, as far as it lies within me, let no man die bound by ecclesiastical chains. But if he should recover, let him again be held by the same penalties, and by the divine benevolence...

DIONYSIUS PETAVIUS' NOTES

(2) *Jason convicted Lamponianus of wrongdoing.* This signifies that Lamponianus the presbyter had been excommunicated for striking a colleague: so that, if danger of life were to threaten, he could be reconciled by those presbyters who were present at the time. If not, he should complete the legitimate period. But what he adds, "Although he shed tears from contrition," is wrongly drawn by some as an example of *prosklausis* (the first degree of penitents). For he does not notice that Synesius is treating here of presbyters, who were by no means subject to that public and doleful penance. For, as St. Leo writes in Ep. 92, inquis. 2, it is foreign to ecclesiastical custom that those who have been consecrated in the presbyteral honor, or to the degree of the diaconate, should receive the remedy of penance for any crime of theirs through the imposition of hands: which undoubtedly descends from apostolic tradition, according to what is written: "If a priest shall sin, who shall pray for him?" Whence, for those who have fallen in such a way, a private withdrawal must be sought in order to merit the mercy of God; where their satisfaction, if it be worthy, may also be fruitful. Optatus of Milevis, at the end of Book II: It is known and proven to many that, at the time of the persecution, some bishops fallen through inertia from the confession of God had offered incense; and yet none of those who escaped ordered them to impose hands ^C on those who had fallen, or to force them to bend their knees. St. Augustine, lib. i cont. Donat. de bapt. cap. 1, writes that when those who are ordained return to the Church from schism, hands are not imposed upon them as [it is upon] the laity. But also the Council of Carthage V, c. 11, says: "Item, it is confirmed that if ever presbyters or deacons have been convicted of some more serious fault, for which it has been necessary to remove them from their ministry, hands should not be imposed upon them as penitents, or as faithful laity." See Grat. dist. 82, can. *Presbyter si fornicat*. For he who had undergone public penance was excluded forever from sacred orders or their function; which Origen also reports in lib. III contra Celsum, p. 147. And in Jerome, *Dial. cont. Lucifer.*: "Either a bishop does not do penance and is a priest; or if he does penance, he cannot be a bishop." Therefore those ancient canons, which inflict penance on clerics, are to be understood of private [penance]. As at Orange I, can. 4, it is decreed that penance is not to be denied to those who desire it, even to clerics.

(3) *This much, therefore, I granted to myself.* It is worthy of note that in this [LX] place he indicates that metropolitans could indeed pass a sentence of excommunication upon clerics subject to them, but could not revoke it once it had been passed; but that he had reserved this to the Alexandrian patriarch, whose seat he calls the "priestly chair," where the *hieratikos* [priestly] is restricted to the primary see. Yet he admonishes that he had taken this one thing upon himself: that if danger of life were to threaten Lamponianus, whom he had segregated from the communion of the Church, he could be reconciled by any presbyter whatsoever. Which the custom of the ancient Church, and especially of that time, supported, most of all after the 13th canon of the Nicene Synod. Therefore, you should not take the way Synesius speaks—"I granted to myself"—as if he had taken this counsel in a doubtful and unknown matter. For he could not be ignorant of this custom of the Church and the Nicene sanction; or at [the very least] not be admonished by older bishops. Rather, he says he took this upon himself or allowed it; that is, he usurped for himself this right, which the canons granted. And although Synesius is not speaking here of penitents—that is, those who are undergoing that public and notorious penance (for the one he is dealing with was a cleric, who were not subject to public penance of that kind); nevertheless, this rule is valid for all, so that reconciliation should not be denied to those guilty of even the most immense crimes, [when they are] at the point of death.

^A And this is indeed what is meant: he has paid the heaviest penalty for a most trivial matter—a word.

Regarding the accusations ^B which I have discussed, Lamponianus confesses that he possesses these things, and he does not ask to be relieved of anything on account of the shipwreck that caused the contract to disappear; but he asks for a seasonable time to sell the crops, and he said that, neglecting everything else, he would apply his mind to this one thing, so that he might pay the money belonging to the poor. There were one hundred and fifty-seven pieces of gold.

It is also worth noting what is happening among us, so that such things may cease to occur. Priests accuse priests of various crimes; whether falsely, I do not yet say, but it is certainly done with a wicked and fraudulent intention. For it is not for the sake of pursuing justice, but that they might procure unjust profits for the commanders of the armies. It is necessary, however, for the burdens of all to be placed upon my shoulders. Wherefore, I beg you, write and command by your decree that it be permitted to no one to do any such thing. For you will both confer a great favor upon me, and upon those who are of a more tranquil spirit, and you will assist the oppressed; and you will confer a much greater benefit upon those very people who commit the injury, since it is a greater good to be liberated from a greater evil; and it is a greater evil to commit an injury than to suffer one. For the latter is someone else’s evil, but the former is one’s own. But I have not wished to signify who these people are, nor should you, even if you know, rebuke anyone by name, lest I fall into the offense of brothers, ^C whom, even if I have severely rebuked them in person and in private, may God forgive. But show yourself to hate only the matter itself in the letters which you will send to me. For I shall know, God willing, along with peace for all, that our shame—lest I say the Church’s—will proceed no further.

One thing further remains to be settled, and I shall immediately make an end of writing. Certain people are wandering among us, "Vacantivi." You will permit me, I trust, to speak a little bluntly, so that I may more clearly declare the wickedness of some using the common language of current affairs. These people wish to have no fixed seat, though they have abandoned the one they previously had; they are driven by no calamity, but change their place of their own volition. Furthermore, they enjoy honors, ^D and they desire to have an established chair, though those who have abandoned the one they had—not compelled by misfortune, but becoming voluntary migrants—

NOTES OF DIONYSIUS PETAVIUS

(4) *And this is indeed what is meant.* He has taken this from Plato, Book IV of *The Laws*.

(5) *And regarding the accusations.* This is a difficult and corrupt passage. I have translated it as if it were *χρημάτων* [concerning money/goods], but I am not entirely satisfied with myself.

(6) *Certain people are wandering... "Vacantivi."* The 16th canon of the Council of Nicaea exists regarding deserters and those who wander, but it does not mention bishops by name; as also the 3rd canon of Antioch and the 15th of the Apostles. But neither does Synesius explicitly speak of bishops, although he demonstrates that the case of these "vacantivi" is of the same kind as that one concerning which he wrote in the preceding epistle, namely Alexander, the bishop of Basimopolis. From which you may gather that, if he does not mean bishops alone, he certainly means these at this point. Regarding these "vacantivi," Hoeschelius, in his notes on Photius' *Codex* 59, believes them to be those whom this Synesius mentions as being called "communionists of the world" in the acts of the Synod at the Oak. But this is most alien. For they are Catholics who are joined by communion with the whole Church. In the Council of Vermeries under King Pepin, canon 15: *Concerning wandering bishops who do not have churches, and whose ordination we do not know how it was performed, it has pleased, according to the just institutions of the holy Fathers, that they should not minister in another's parish, nor perform any ordination without the command of the bishop whose parish it is.*

^A They reap the honors while wandering there, where it is more profitable. But to me, most venerable Father, it seems that those who have abandoned their own churches should be forbidden from every church; and until they return and settle there, no one should admit them to the altar, nor to...

DIONYSII PETAVII NOTES

(7) And before they have returned. This is, indeed, the form and account [LXXVI] of the lay communion into which clerics were relegated, when, that is, rejected from the fellowship and order of the clergy, they were held among the laity and partook of the mysteries with them. For it was permitted only to those dedicated to sacred ministry to enter the altar and communicate there, says Laodicea can. 19, according to the interpretation of Dionysius Exiguus: *and it is allowed only to those in orders to enter the altar and communicate.* In some Latin copies it is wrongly stated, *only to priests*. See also can. 15 of the Apostles, where it is forbidden to these wandering clerics to perform sacred ministries in such a way that lay communion is nevertheless permitted, which is clearly opposed here to the liturgy. And so, two things were inflicted on clerics as a punishment in lay communion: first, that they should touch no sacred ministry; second, that, being removed outside the place of the clergy and the sanctuary, they should communicate with the promiscuous crowd. From which they were henceforth regarded as lay, and received no prerogative or honor of ecclesiastical order. Against these same wandering clerics, the Nicene synod published two canons, 15 and 16. In the latter of which it orders that, wherever they have sought refuge, they should be *akoinōnetoi*, deprived of communion. Zonaras and Balsamon refer this to that communion which is proper to clerics. For they do not think that the use of the sacraments and lay communion is completely interdicted to them, lest it seem to derogate from the 15th canon of the Apostles, which granted lay communion to those wanderers: *But regarding the participation in holy things, and the communion of action, and the concelebrating with those to whom they have come*, says Zonaras. But I believe those authors are not to be heeded; and that *akoinōnetoi* means absolutely the same as being deprived of communion, or excommunicated by a full and absolute excommunication. For that word *akoinōnētos* and *akoinōnēsia* signifies this, just as in canon 10 of the Apostles, when it says: *Of those who are deposed, some are hindered only from priestly ministration, but not from communion, or from assembling with the church. Others, however, with the deposition, are also akoinōnetoi, and excommunicated.* Therefore, clerics who are fugitives from their own Church are, by the decree of the Nicene council, utterly excommunicated. Yet this severity seems to have been lessened by the use of subsequent times. Certainly, Synesius grants them lay communion. But in epistola 66, he punished with being *akoinōnetos* Bishop Alexander, who would not return to his see. For he admitted him neither to the Church nor to the use of the sacraments. Pope Felix, however, ep. 7, decides thus concerning bishops, presbyters, and deacons who have been rebaptized, that they should lie in penance until the day of their death; and that in no way should they attend the prayer of the faithful, nor even that of the catechumens, for whom lay communion is to be rendered only at the point of death. Which words, and similar ones in which lay communion is represented at death, do not pertain to the fact that lay communion was something else than what we have taught; because, as some argue, nothing could be usurped at the very point of death, by which the communion granted to them would be something other than lay. For Pope Felix decreed that they should not be granted communion before the danger of death, which then, as far as the Eucharist is concerned, could be nothing other than lay communion. Furthermore, in other matters, which are deferred to the dead and to their memory, nothing more is exhibited to them than to the laity; and they are considered in the same order and place as the laity. In Socrates lib. vi, cap. 9, and Sozomen lib. viii, cap. 45, it is shown that John Chrysostom behaved otherwise toward Dioscorus and Ammonius, who, having been excommunicated [LXXVII], had fled to Constantinople. For he received them to the communion of prayers in the church; but excluded them from the mysteries in the meantime while their case was being examined. That this is what the ancient canons call "alien communion," certain learned men have suspected; with whom I do not agree. For I think the "alien communion," which was inflicted on bishops and clerics in place of a penalty, was nothing other than the right to participate in both prayers and sacraments with the clerics, and in the sanctuary, without function or ministry: so that, for example, priests and deacons should be present at the liturgies with other clerics, and should receive the Lord's body with them and in their order, but should perform no ministry; bishops, however, should neither distribute the Eucharist to others, nor ordain. For thus, as strangers in alien Churches, they exercised no right or jurisdiction of their otherwise proper order. In the council of Valence, which was celebrated in the year 439, in canon 3, it was provided that for Armentarius, who had been ordained by only two bishops as prelate of Embrun, some bishop should grant him one of the churches of his parishes, in which he might be fostered either by the name of chorepiscopus, as the Nicene canon 8 speaks, or by "alien," as they say, communion. What this really is, it explains immediately, namely, that he should never presume to offer in cities, or in the absence of the bishops; nor to ordain even the lowest cleric, nor indeed in that church which was granted to him by anyone's mercy, nor to cede to any of the bishops, or to those who are later in age or have achieved it, in his rudiments, in some way, as if out of respect for his age; nor should he anywhere usurp for himself anything of episcopal offices, except in the church which he has obtained by someone's mercy, in which it is granted to him only to confirm the neophytes and to offer before the presbyters. Since, therefore, it is proper to the episcopal dignity to ordain clerics, to offer in cities, to sit before those bishops who were ordained later, and to perform other things of this kind: whoever is stripped of all these in that very diocese in which he had been created bishop, and is reduced to certain inferior and simple offices of priests; he seems to be treated in such a way as if he were a stranger, and were residing not in his own, but in an alien city. Wherefore, to be ordered from a bishop to be a chorepiscopus, I believe is the same as being condemned to "alien communion": so that those words of the canon, *or be fostered by "alien," as they say, communion*, may be an interpretation of the preceding, *in which either by the name of chorepiscopus*, as the same canon speaks; for whatever the Fathers of the council of Valence determine in that canon regarding Armentarius, they profess to do by the authority of the Nicene council. But the canon is 8, in which the Nicene synod established that if any bishop of the Cathar party crosses over to the Catholic, where a bishop is already established, he should be relegated to the order of presbyter; and that the bishop should assign to him the place of a chorepiscopus or a presbyter somewhere: so that there may not be two bishops in the same city. It appears, therefore, that it is called "alien communion" when a bishop is demoted from the episcopal dignity and order into the grade of chorepiscopi. In a simple presbyter, however, or deacon, it is called "alien communion" when, without the proper function of their order, they are allowed to mingle among other clerics and to be partakers of the mysteries with them. Which, indeed, the Leptinensian...

to invite them to the altar, nor to leave them to take a seat ^A of precedence when they come to church. For they would return quickly to their own places if they feared the loss of the honor which they prefer to enjoy everywhere rather than where it is fitting. For they would accept ^A being received there rather than nowhere at all. And publicly, indeed, they should be treated as private persons, if it so seems good to your most august see. Privately, however, and at home, we shall know how to use them when a response has been brought by your Holiness regarding that question which I recently proposed concerning Alexander, a man of Cyrenian race, who was bishop of a certain city of the Bithynians. Having been driven from it by some sedition, though it is free for him to return, he does not return, but remains with us. I have written to your Holiness about this matter, explaining diligently all that has happened to him, and asking your opinion as to in what number the man ought to be held. And since no reply is brought to me, doubting whether the letters have perished or have reached your blessedness, I have discussed this matter with the most illustrious bishop Dioscorus, and have ordered the amanuenses to give copies of those things written at that time, so that if by chance you have not yet received the letter, having finished reading it, you might be able to request and send back the mutual replies to me. Finally, pray to God for me. For you will pray for a destitute man, and one deserted by all, who has need of such protection; since I myself fear to appeal to God on my own behalf. For all things fall out for me in the contrary way, on account of my reckless boldness; because, a man entangled in sins, reared outside the Church, and trained in another form of discipline, I did not hesitate to lay hands upon the altar of God.

EPISTLE LXVIII

To the Same

NOTES OF DIONYSIUS PETAVIUS

Consequently, the "peregrine communion," such as that canon of the Council of Riez signifies, does not seem to be derived from that custom by which those foreign clerics who arrived without letters of commendation, and concerning whose status or integrity of right there could be doubt, were treated by bishops; ^C but rather from the fact that in a foreign Church, peregrine bishops or clerics hold no right of performing a ministry and function consistent with their own order, even if they were employed by the bishops of those cities in which they were traveling to perform those things. But from the fact precisely that, having departed from their own places, they lack the use of their own order; thence the "peregrine communion," which indeed was penal, seems to have been called by that name, by which, similarly to those who were peregrine, they would have no right of exercising [their order] in their own cities.

Wherefore, those who were punished with the "peregrine communion" were, I do not think, abstained from the Dominical body; which has seemed to some to be the case. For that canon of Riez persuades the contrary. Nor is there any reason why anyone should be moved by canon 16 of the Council of Lérida, by which those clerics who are deceased... ^D those who suppress the goods of the bishops are condemned of sacrilege: the guilty, he says, is condemned by a more prolonged anathema of sacrilege, and the peregrine communion is scarcely granted to him. From which those whom I recently mentioned reason thus: when the word of anathema conveys to itself a more severe sentence of excommunication, they do not appear to be partakers of the Lord's body, to whom the peregrine communion has been inflicted. But when no duty of humanity was accustomed to be offered by the Church to those damned with anathema, that is, struck by that final execration, by what logic then do they describe the peregrine communion in such a way that those who had been reduced to it were meanwhile supported by the expenses of the Church? Therefore, it appears that the name of anathema was taken broadly and less properly by the Synod of Lérida, for any ecclesiastical punishment, or, as they call it, censure, by which either right is taken away from someone, either in whole, or at least diminished, regarding ecclesiastical communion. Just as the word of excommunication itself is sometimes accepted by Augustine (epist. 118) and others, to signify only segregation from the use of the Dominical body; not that greater separation from the body of Christ and the communion of the Church, for the demonstration of which this word is more often used.

practices from his youth; this is both right to say, and altogether true. Therefore, as you would honor a good man, honor him; but as for the accusation he has received, let him fulfill his own fate. For never may you lay hands on a just death. ^A

LETTER LXIX. To the same.

LETTER LXX. To Proclus.

LETTER LXXI. To Pylaemenes.

LETTER LXXII. To the bishops (8).

DION. PETAVIUS' NOTES.

^A He had sinned against God; he had committed violence against men. For these reasons, we closed our church to him and dictated letters to your brotherhood, signifying our opinion concerning him. Before these could be sent—or, according to another reading, before this letter [could be sent]—he arrived and feigned the part of a suppliant, promising repentance, which all requested me to accept, with the sole exception of myself. For I, truly, thought that I had clearly perceived the man, as someone who would easily say or do anything. And I expected, and even predicted, that for any trivial reason he would return to his [natural] disposition. It was likely that he would be less bold so long as he was held liable to the Churches, and much more so than if nothing suspicious were left for him. For this reason, I remained persistent in the decree, as though consulting more religiously regarding what pertains to God, and more usefully regarding what concerns the citizens.

^B But for one person to oppose a majority is indicative of a headstrong spirit, especially as a younger man against his elders, and those who have spent their lives in the priesthood against one who has not yet taken up that matter for even a full year. Therefore, I yielded to those who were entreating, so as not to send the letters just yet, but accepting them on the condition that he would no longer vent his rage against men of the same standing as himself, and that he would adopt a way of life that served as a guide [to offset] the disturbance. "If, indeed," I said, "you remain within those limits which you yourself have set, not only shall we pray for your sin now, but henceforth we shall pray with you. But if you shrink from that pledge, the punishment remains fixed and will be published everywhere; only so much time is deferred as is sufficient for all to understand that your character admits of no amendment."

^C It was agreed that this should be done, and he said that he himself would provide the proof, and that we would grasp it. He gave it, and we grasped it. He caused a great addition to the causes for excommunication. Not yet had there been an attempt at the proscription of property, not yet had murder been perpetrated. How many have become vagabonds through him! How many, who were formerly wealthy, have reached the point of beggary through him! But these are small things compared to the man who was born well, but who perished miserably—the noble Magnus. There lies the son of a most illustrious man, who had performed all the public duties for the city, having become the sacrifice to another's envy. Gold was demanded; not giving it, he was beaten; and when he did give it, because he found a way to provide the money, he was beaten. For what else? It was not to his own friends—but he had sold his field to the governor. I, for my part, lament his youth, which was treated so unworthily, and the vain hopes the city had for him. ^D But more pitiable than his youth is the old age of his mother, for she had two sons: the one lives as an exile because of Andronicus, and she does not even know in what part of the earth he may be; the other, she knows where in the earth he lies buried. Alas for the laws that are treated with injustice, through which men rule over their own people, and through which, while in office, they borrow money! God wills that others be the protectors of these things; for us, it is enough to remain pure in purity, if we are at least able to remain within the holy enclosures, and to exclude the unholy from the most holy things.

s of these things; for us, it is enough to remain pure in purity, if we are at least able to remain within the holy enclosures, and to exclude the unholy from the most holy things.

LETTER LXXIII. To Troilus.

^A Since you are a philosopher and endowed with humanity, the calamities of my country must be deplored by me before you; for you will show it honor, as the city of a philosopher, and you will grant it pity, on account of the innate gentleness of your soul; and, for both reasons, you will endeavor to raise up what has fallen. This is indeed within your power, since Anthemius is equipped for the protection of cities by nature, by fortune, and by industry. While many benefits have been divinely granted to him for this purpose, the greatest of all is the abundance of his friends, and among them, Troilus is by far the greatest. Therefore, see, I entreat you, that you do not merely cast your eyes upon these letters, but also apply your mind to them, which I have bedewed with a fountain of tears. ^B For how does it happen that Phoenicians do not rule over the Phoenicians, nor Coelesyrians over the Coelesyrians, and the Egyptians govern all other provinces rather than their own, yet Libyans alone are set over their own land? Are the Libyans alone the bravest, or have they decided to set themselves against the laws? When more and more fearsome penalties have been set for those who violate them, then all the more do wicked natures bristle against them. It was destined that the Cyrenaic Pentapolis should perish utterly; but famine and war have not yet consumed as much as they should, but cause delay, and destroy it little by little. Therefore, we have devised what yet remained to hasten the destruction. And yet, this very thing is what a very ancient oracle prophesied concerning the end of the Pentapolis. We heard it from our fathers and grandfathers: "Libyan affairs are to be ruined by the depravity of their leaders." ^C This is the fragment of the oracle. But even if this is fixed in the fates, contrive at least some delay of the evil. For the art of medicine itself does not entirely ward off death from people, since such is their nature, but it imposes some delay upon the fatal necessity. We ask for something of this kind from the science of governance; that it should aid nature against the force of the disease, and not hasten the destruction. Do not, I beseech you, let it happen in the times of the great Anthemius that a Roman province, in the middle of a diocese, perishes entirely. Tell him, tell him, I implore you by the sciences: are you not the author of the new law sent out over the old one, which law threatens many and harsh things to those who covet the rule of their own country? Why then are you not angry at those who ^D violate your decrees? If they do not escape your notice, then you are guilty of wrong; if they do escape your notice, then you are negligent. Yet it was not necessary...

^B for a man so expert in commanding to act in such a way, but rather to apply his mind most especially to this one thing: that those who are to perform duties of prefects under you should be selected as the best possible men. For that providence is divine and magnificent, in which diligent care is expended on the choosing of a good man. For in this the care of an entire nation is undertaken. First of all, therefore, those who kick against the laws as if they were enemies are to be rejected from administration; they hold the prefecture of their own country against these laws; and against these same laws, they take out loans of money, treating us as if we were pledged property. Put an end to this evil! Send us more legitimate magistrates, who neither know us nor are known to us, and who may judge matters according to their own nature and not through private personal bias. For at present, affairs are in this state: a master sails here who was previously at odds with the state, and he pursues that civil dissension of his from the tribunal. And many other evils are born from this. Calumnies play out at banquets. A woman’s gift becomes the calamity of some citizen. Then an accuser is stirred up; indeed, whoever does not wish to bring an action for violated laws is himself condemned, unless he has suffered the same fate as the condemned before he is condemned himself. We have seen a man who was cast into chains for this reason, because he was unwilling to accuse of embezzlement one who had recently performed his magistracy most excellently. Indeed, we did not even see that man: for it was forbidden to approach closer, as if to criminals or those guilty of high treason, until they had accomplished whatever they pleased; and to the man, it was permitted to behold the sun only on the condition that he summon Gennadius to court. ^C But our Pentapolis has been relieved in many respects by Gennadius the Syrian. The greatest of these is that, exercising command through speech and persuasion, without any of us noticing, he brought more money into the public accounts than all the cruelest men most famous for their atrocity; and because of that money, no one wept, and because of it, no one sold their field. One might rightly call that contribution pious, which neither injury nor scourges extorted against our will. But as for the citizens—alas, the memory of those who have passed! Alas, the experience of those who are seen! We demand nothing new, therefore; we entreat Anthemius on behalf of the laws; on behalf of the laws, I say, and their guardian, whose antiquity it is fitting to revere. For that is also the dignity of law. Or, if it seems so to anyone, let us revere the more recent decrees as well, which still bear the mark of a living and, if I may so say, animated reign.

LETTER LXXIV

I have sent you a work worked out with Attic grace and great diligence. And if the ears of Pylaemenes, which possess such refined and sharp judgment, should approve it, this very thing ^D may be credited to the succession of time.

has commended to memory; but if nothing seems serious, it is surely permitted to play with trifles.

EPISTOLA LXXV: To Nicander

That famous epigram of yours! For how could it not be famous, which the great Nicander has praised? You surely know that this image—whether of Cypris or Stratonice—was made by me at that time for my sister, as you could have understood from the little verse. Theodosius, the emperor’s protector, is the husband of this woman, the dearest of my sisters, whom I deemed worthy of both the statue and the verse. If you look at the length of time and his constancy in military service, he ought long ago to have held a leading position, but favor and grace count for more than the calculation of years. Do you, therefore, aid him in this matter; furthermore, if he has any cases before Anthemius, may the great Nicander be of assistance to him in some way.

EPISTOLA LXXVI: To Theophilus

The Olbiatae (this is a village population) were in need of the creation of a bishop, since the most blessed father Athamas had fulfilled both his life and his priesthood at a great age. They called upon me, therefore, to be a partner in their deliberations. I congratulated the men for having made a choice from among many, and those all good men; but I congratulated Antony much more for his uprightness, because he was judged the best among good men. For the public vote was cast for him. Two most religious bishops, with whom he had been raised and by whose hand one of them had ordained him a priest, added their own judgment to that of the multitude. I myself was not entirely ignorant of Antony; rather, I praised him according to the words and deeds of his that I knew. Adding to the good qualities that I already knew the things I had heard, I also cast my own vote for the man. And it would be my desire to receive him as a colleague and companion in the honorable priesthood. One thing, therefore, is still needed—but that the most vital—your sacred hand. This is what the Olbiatae require; for me, however, your prayers are necessary.

EPISTOLA LXXVII: To Anysius

Light and darkness do not wait for one another, but flee by the law of nature. When we returned from your procession, we encountered Andronicus.

DIONYSII PETAVII NOTES

(14) That famous epigram of yours. However, the beginning of this epigram is at the end of the *Anthologia*.

(15) From your procession. I understand this as those who were escorting him as he left his magistracy and was returning home.

LETTER LXXVIII

Nothing could be more useful to the Pentapolis than that brave men and Unnigardae soldiers should be preferred to all other soldiers, not only to those called indigenous, but to all those who have ever arrived in these places as auxiliaries. For the latter have never ventured to engage with few against many enemies; but the former, though a mere forty in number, have now twice or thrice fought against more than a thousand men, relying upon God and you as their commander, and won the greatest and most glorious victories. As for the barbarians who have appeared, they have either slaughtered them or driven them off, and they roam the high places of the country, watching for the incursions of the enemy, leaping out like dogs from the fold, to prevent the beast from making an attack upon the flock. But we are ashamed before these excellent soldiers, who are forced to weep during the labors they endure for our sake. For the things they have written to us, I truly could not hear read without great sorrow; and I think it is not right that their prayers to you should be neglected. For they ask through us—and through you, from the Emperor—what it would have been fitting for us to do even if they remained silent: that they should not be enrolled among the indigenous numbers. For they would be as useless to themselves as to us if they were stripped of the Emperor’s bounty, if they had neither a supply of horses, nor equipment of arms, nor expenses suitable for military men. Do not, I pray you—you who have behaved most bravely of all in their company—do not suffer these soldiers to be degraded to an inferior rank, but let them remain in their full and stable dignity, by no means defrauded of their rewards. This indeed will happen if, through your report, the most merciful Emperor learns how useful these men have been to the Pentapolis. Furthermore, ask the Emperor in your letters that one hundred and sixty men be added to those forty. For who, with the help of God, would not most certainly say that two hundred Unnigardae, similar to these in spirit and in hand—whose character we praise above all—would be suitable, with you as leader, for the Emperor to use in fighting the Ausurian enemy? For what need is there of many levies and annual expenses for the armies of this place? It is hands that are needed for war, not many names.

LETTER LXXIX

I have been of no help to Evagrius the presbyter, nor indeed to any other of those who are oppressed. For he who rules among us is Andronicus of Berenice, an accursed man, possessing both a mind and a tongue that are corrupted. That he makes nothing of me personally is a light and negligible matter, but that he should feel shame for his actions—

^A he strikes his head against the sky! I swear by your sacred and most desired head, he has imposed upon Pentapolis a mourning garment. Having devised finger-racks and foot-fetters, and various strange instruments of torture, he uses them not against any of the evildoers (for truly, today, whoever wishes to do evil is permitted to), but against those who are paying taxes on their properties and those who owe anything whatsoever. For the man is dreadfully inventive in finding pretexts, suitable to his own nature and that of Thoas. He, [the governor]—having placed him ^B among the prison guards—assigned him to the exactions of the military gold, which is called "Tironicum," and he added the *Aulanaea* (17); and always some new evil upon the old one, whereby families and local communities are tormented. For there is no escape even for those who possess wealth and are not susceptible to the lash; but while a servant is walking home to bring the gold, the master is beaten, and some of his fingers are [tortured] (18). ^C When he lacks an excuse that might facilitate him, Maximinus and Clinias (19) stand by as reserves. In them he indulges his passion. But he seems to me, being such as he is, to be supported by the providence and protection of evil demons, who wish to be praised and to see those miserable, detestable souls prosper, so that they may use them as instruments for public calamities. Hence they prepare for him a reputation as a noble man. Yet how is it reasonable, given that He has exalted the high and brought low the humble? Under him, everyone who is moderate and gentle in his ways is held as of no account, like a Carian, and is dishonored; only Zenas and Julius have power—Zenas the one who last year collected double taxes, who threatens my brother Anastasius that he will chase him with charges of false embassy and will condemn him. ^D Yet this one has power because Andronicus is willing; Julius, however, [has power] when he is unwilling and lamenting; and he has become more powerful against no one as he has against Andronicus. For having shouted at him twice or thrice, and having reviled him with the sort of abuse cast from a wagon, and having threatened him with everything—things that I would have valued as having been spoken by me—that wretch has reduced the lion to a mouse. And hence he uses him like a slave; for he does not even dare to whisper securely against his master, even in corners; and this, surely, is permitted to domestic servants. But Andronicus does not even have that. For his mindless bravery is nowhere; but when the times suit, it becomes cowardly and then bold.

NOTES OF DIONYSIUS PETAVIUS

(17) AND *AULANAEA*. That the *Tironicum* and *Aulanaea* were types of tribute, the suspicion is easy. And the former, indeed, is deduced from the *tirones* [recruits], because it was consumed for their pay. Regarding the latter, I have nothing certain to say. Meursius in his *Vocabulary* thinks it is derived from *aula* [court], because it was exacted for the court. That guesser, whoever he is, who wrote on suburban legal claims, does not speak like one who is divining (which would be tolerable), but as some Pythian from the tripod, he proclaims that *auxanaea* are super-indictions, or increments of indictions and augmentations. 'The interpreter ought to have translated the term thus,' he says. But that correction is in many ways vain and rash. First, it is not read in Synesius, but *aulanæa* is found both in the Turnebus edition and in all the manuscripts. But that man, who ^D does not consult the Greek, led into that opinion by an error of the press, where in our Latin *auxanæa* has crept in for *aulanæa*. Then, from the fact that it is derived from *auxanō* [I increase], no one even moderately educated in Greek would have said [this]. For the laws of grammar do not permit it.

(18) *DIGIT-RACKS*, or finger-instruments, and that kind of torture-device kept on the fingers?

(19) *MAXIMINUS AND CLINIAS RESERVES*. A new acceptance of the term *ephedros*. For it does not signify the ministers of cruelty and those as it were competing for a prize, but those against whom he exercises his cruelty. Unless he is using *antagonistas* [antagonists] as that Terentian pimp does: "He by beating, I by being beaten, we are both worn out."

^A That is to say, [he is] evil everywhere. The admirable Heron will speak his mind to you regarding him, if he manages to survive. For he was so deeply affected by the man’s own conscience and wickedness, and by the troubles he heard of and the sufferings he endured each day, that, having scarcely been liberated from that lethal association, he has little hope of recovering his own life. Nor was Thoas back yet from that illustrious journey. For this is the man who, having set up Decelia against all the nobles, has brought over a secret dream concerning the prefects; he wishes for some of those who are here to die, and he wishes for others to be bound. And men are indeed held in bonds among us because of this discarded dream, while others are dying for no apparent reason. For even if they have not died yet, they will die immediately. For those who were [beaten] with scourges have perished; while those who were [strong] in the strength of their bodies are still living even up to this day, on which I send these letters. But, he says, "The great Anthemius will not get well, nor will the prefect of the Romans ^B be freed from his fever unless Maximinus and Clinias perish." Thoas quietly spreads these rumors. On account of this, Andronicus does not even tolerate Maximinus’s tribute; rather, he rejects all who wish to buy Leucippus’s property. For the object in view is not the enrichment of the treasury, but the health of the prefects. It was they who, having been summoned into the house of Thoas—of the sophist alone, he says, with only him present—divulged the dream to him; and all the ports were closed, just as far as Thoas swears, until he himself could sail away and arrive and reveal the secret to Andronicus, so that no one might escape of those who are worthy to die in place of the soul of Anthemius. ^C Then, from the things that another sees in a dream, or rather is said to see, Pentapolis is in a sorry state. For Andronicus, entrusted with these things, and as a benefactor of the fortunate house of the prefects…

^D DIONYSII PETAVII NOTÆ. (20) *That he would recover his own life.* Perhaps: *that he would lay aside his own life*. (20') *For now this man is.* Decelia was a certain fortress distant from the Athenians (Athens) by one hundred and twenty stades, which the Lacedaemonians held when they were in power, and having fortified it, they sallied forth from there to damage the Athenians. He says, therefore, just as the Lacedaemonians fortified this against the Athenians, so also has Thoas made himself a kind of fortification against Andronicus for all the nobles, and a source of harm. (21) *The secret of the prefects.* Thoas had been sent to Constantinople at the time when the Praetorian Prefect Anthemius was ill. Having returned thence to Pentapolis, he brought back a certain dream, which ordered that some be killed to secure the prefect's health. Synesius mentions the number of the multitude, not because many were ill, but because one was ill, namely Anthemius, and Thoas claimed to have received the dream and the command from him as well as from the other prefect, perhaps of the City. That Anthemius alone was sick and laboring with a fever, he expresses shortly after: "Great Anthemius will not get well, nor will the prefect of the Romans cease to have a fever," which are said of one and the same person. For one must not listen to the suburban interpreter who thinks that two prefects are mentioned there; the one of the Orient praetorium, Anthemius, and the other the Augustal prefect, to whom he believes that the latter words regarding the fever pertain. Which is most inept. For those [terms] do not indicate the Augustal, but some greater prefect. (22) *And benefactor of the fortunate house of the prefects.* The same interpreter, on the authority of Cujacius, lib. XXII *Observat.*, cap. 5, thinks that by these words the Augustal Prefect is shadowed forth, whose praetorium was called Eutycheum, as he collects from the subscription of the law 2 *C. Th. de Alexand. pleb. prim.*: *Post Consulatum Eutychei, Alexandriae.* However, this conjecture is not only groundless, but is so alien to Synesius’s mind that nothing more absurd could be imagined. Which, by the leave of so learned a man as Cujacius, I would say: this ought to serve to correct the rashness of the interpreter, who accuses the interpreter of Synesius of ignorance on the grounds that he has not struck the same stone. That this divination is abhorrent to Synesius’s mind is easy to perceive, if one does not bring a headlong spirit to the reading of it. Those prefects of whom he speaks, and from whom Thoas received the dream, were at Constantinople, where also Anthemius...

^A was suffering from illness; and he who was sustaining the care of the boy-emperor Theodosius and of the commonwealth was living nowhere else but in the imperial retinue. That the dream was published to Thoas in the same city, the very words of Synesius clearly declare: those who were called into the house of Thoas alone, while, as he says, the sophist alone was present, have carried the dream to him. ^B Andronicus, however, when I was absent, observed my power and authority, by which he was not dragged off twice into a bond at Alexandria. But in the present instance, I swear by your sacred head, he conducts himself in such a way that, when it happened that I lost the dearest of my children, I was almost at the point of being released from this life; yet, having overcome my grief and sorrow—for you know how in such matters I am overwhelmed by a female and weak spirit—even when things were thus, I did not overcome my pain by reason. Rather, Andronicus turned my soul back upon itself, and compelled me to direct my mind toward our common miseries. And my afflictions became the remedies for my afflictions, which drew me from the opposite side, and warded off one commotion of the soul with another; for anger, mingled with sorrow, repelled the sorrow which I had received from the death of my son. You know that my death had been predicted to me for a certain day of the year. ^C That was the very day on which I was made bishop. I felt a change of life; and whereas up to this time I had passed it in a certain perpetual hilarity, and as it were in a festive celebration, having experienced human honors and every pleasure of the soul—beyond all those who ever devoted themselves to philosophy—no less on account of those external goods than because of the disposition and state of my mind; I see... ^D

NOTES OF DIONYSIUS PETAVIUS

to be despoiled at the same time of everything. But that which is by far the greatest of my evils, and which makes my life desperate—I who was never before accustomed to feel that my prayers offered to God were in vain, now feel for the first time that I have prayed to no purpose—is that I see my family oppressed by misfortunes; I am forced to dwell in an afflicted fatherland; and I am set up before all as a target, so that they may lament and bewail their own ^A calamities with me. I have suffered Andronicus, the crowning peak of all evils, to be added to these, by reason of whom I am not permitted to enjoy even a moment of familiar leisure. Yet it is necessary that I, being able to be of no service in anything, should endure with a calm mind all who approach me and reproach our weakness. For these reasons I implore you, I implore you earnestly, I say—since I implore both of you, but especially you, dear head to me, Brother Anastasius; for you have the reputation of having some ^B authority over that furious and rabid man—if you have any power, would it not be more just to use it for the sake of Synesius than for the sake of Andronicus? Free Ptolemais, the city which I have been allotted, from sorrow and sadness—an allotment which I truly did not desire: the all-seeing eye of God knows. For what reasons I am paying such heavy penalties, I do not know. And if, as they say, we have aroused the envy of the gods against us, we have paid enough and more than enough in penalties. But it is worth while to utter this same sentiment also for ^C Maximinus and for Clinius, whom even the cruelest of demons, I think, would pity. I except from this statement Thoas and Andronicus, who alone are more implacable than the demons.

EPISTOLA LXXIX bis. To Theophilus.

I was prepared to lend both my hand and my will to serve my father's command; but I do not think that even Ampelius looked more diligently after his own interests than Nicæus did to be deprived of his own goods. For I do not know well what reasons he had to go away before, nor why he returned, ^D nor why he has set out abroad again. For how could I have known, when I did not see him, nor was anything certain reported to me about him? Indeed, another man brought the letter written by your sacred hand, and asked for these in return, since Nicæus had already set sail from the port. Nor indeed did I see him; did the governor see or hear anything about him? But not even he saw or heard. How then can Nicæus be winning, who lives in the country far from these borders, and reaps in return the many commodities that the seasons, whatever storms they bring, provide for farmers? They would be more numerous, however, had he retained his maternal inheritance.

EPISTOLA LXXX. To the Lady Philosopher.

Although fortune cannot snatch everything from me, it wishes, however, to take whatever it can: "Which has bereft me of my children and many good things." But it will never snatch from me the will to choose the best and to support those who are oppressed by injustice. For may it not also conquer my mind! I hate injustice, therefore; for this is allowed. But I would, indeed, have wished to prevent it; yet this, too, is among the things that have been snatched away from me, and this too, like my children, has been taken away.

lowed. But I would, indeed, have wished to prevent it; yet this, too, is among the things that have been snatched away from me, and this too, like my children, has been taken away. ^A Once upon a time, the Milesians were a brave people. There was a time when I too was useful to my friends, and you would call me an external blessing, one who spent upon others the esteem of those who had great power; and those men I held as my own hands. Now, however, I am left bereft of everything, unless you can do something. For indeed I count even you, along with virtue, as an inviolable good. You, for your part, are always able, and may you be able to make the best use of your ability. As for Nicaeus and Philolaus, those most noble and excellent young men, and my kinsmen, may it be the concern of all those who respect you—both private citizens and magistrates—that they might return as masters of their own affairs.

Letter LXXXI

Letter LXXXII

Letter LXXXIII

Letter LXXXIV

EPISTOLA LXXXV. To the same.

I have entrusted a letter to the admirable Gerontius, for your sacred and most longed-for person, to provide an occasion for your first meeting. ^A For then, perhaps, you will honor him for my sake, but after you have put him to the test, you will honor another for his own sake.

EPISTOLA LXXXVI. To the same.

He to whom I have entrusted this letter is the quaestor of the Dalmatian regiment and prefect of the grain supply. I, however, embrace all the Dalmatians as if they were my own children. For they are the people of the city which chose me by lot. This one thing I felt I had to inform you. It will be for you to show yourself towards my people as you do towards your own.

EPISTOLA LXXXVII. To Pylæmenes.

When I received the letters from Thrace in the springtime, I turned over the packet of correspondence for a long time, to see if perhaps the illustrious name of Pylæmenes might be written on any of them; for I considered it a sin to touch any other writing before that one. But it was nowhere to be seen. If, therefore, you happen to be away, may you return quickly and in good health. If, however, you were present when all the rest of my acquaintances were handing their letters for me to Zosimus, it would be truly strange if anyone had been more mindful of me than Pylæmenes. ^B

EPISTOLA LXXXVIII. To my brother.

Up to this point our affairs had been in a happy state. Since then, as if by a reciprocal onrush of waves, both public and private matters bring me grief. For I am living in a region infested by enemies, with no private life, and the calamities of individuals are mine to lament; and often within the month I must rush to the ramparts, as if I had been hired for the fellowship of warfare and not for the pouring forth of prayers. Of my three male children, ^C one still remains to me. But if you are sailing with a fair wind and living happily, we are not entirely afflicted by adverse fortune.

EPISTOLA LXXXIX. To Theophilus.

Justice has been removed from among men. Andronicus formerly did wrong, and now is suffering it. But such are the customs of the Church, to raise up the depressed and bring low the exalted. This Andronicus, therefore, she hated formerly on account of the things he was perpetrating—and for this reason she allowed him to fall so far. Now she pities him, because she perceives that he has experienced things even more grievous than the curse. And so, for his sake, we have caused annoyance even to powerful men. ^D Indeed, it is a bitter thing if we are never to stand with the happy and flourishing, but are always to weep with those who weep. Wherefore we have pulled him down here from the fatal tribunal, and in other respects have made his calamities much lighter. And if your piety shall deem him worthy of care and concern, this will be for me a great proof that the man has not been entirely abandoned by God.

ade his calamities much lighter. And if your piety shall deem him worthy of care and concern, this will be for me a great proof that the man has not been entirely abandoned by God.

EPISTOLA XC. To Troilus.

EPISTOLA XCI. To my brother.

EPISTOLA XCII. To Hesychius.

EPISTOLA XCIII. To Anysius.

has settled, for you had already heard that himself. I wish that you may receive the reward for such diligence from God, both now and in the future! I, for my part, sent those who would praise these very things and ask in what condition you find yourself; and I wish for you to be in the enjoyment of all good things. For I care—I care, I say—for the Pentapolis; for how could I not, since it has been to me, as the Cretans might say, a mother city? But especially do I care for you, and for your glory and dignity. ^B For in every one of your successes, I think it right that everyone should congratulate me. Therefore, as one who is at risk in your person, best of men and commanders, it is deservedly fitting that I should know the state of your affairs. I have exhorted John to conduct himself as bravely as possible; he is no lazy soldier, provided God aids him. Reach out a hand to him for the sake of his brother, who will serve you in the stead of many. This seems to me an excellent plan, since I have perceived the characters of the youths and the modesty and respect they have toward one another. And if it seems good to you, let it be ratified. Greet the comrades who are serving with you in my name. Let my messmate return to me quickly, bringing some splendid news of the war; for although he is most timid, he dared to commit himself to the road, with your arms going before him. Give to Cyrene that pair of brothers; for they will fight for the city that bore and nurtured them.

LETTER XCIV

To a Brother

That you suppose us to be obedient to your commands—for so you have written—you do well, and you judge of us as is just; and may very many good things come to you for that reason, since I consider that I too have received a favor from you by this fact: if any favor is owed by an elder brother to a younger ^C—which, for my part, I do not think is the case. But for us, it is enough to render this to you in place of a reward: that you should understand our purpose, namely, that we depend on you alone of all mortals. But as for what you say you have surely learned, that Julius is held by a yearning for our friendship, this does not conveniently admit of proof. For this is very much the mark of a man who is deceived and deluded, for I would not say a man who is deluding. For at the same time I was reading your letters, another was reading those written by him; and while you say this, he says all things to the contrary, having both read and heard those who said that he was sowing unsuitable words about us. ^D Therefore, I could not distrust a noble and good man; and when I gave him my confidence, I did not—by the patron of your and my fraternal bond—repent of the benefits I had conferred upon the man, having on the previous day warded off by force the accuser who was summoning him for high treason, as one who had done injury to the emperor’s house. For I swear by your sacred head, if I had not resisted with infinite efforts—partly due to the fear of the judge, who on such a charge was not accepting [the case], and partly due to the madness of the accuser, who was feigning necessity while being eager to do some evil and

^A to suffer it. And he would have set upon his wife and children the most terrible calamity, and upon many of his kinsmen, and very dear friends, both rich and poor; and in a word, an Iliad of evils would have beset our city, on account of a man who had despaired of all hope of safety and was courting death; and Julius would have achieved a victory of such a kind that he would not have wished to live thereafter. For these reasons, I thought that what has been done had to be done by me. Let even my bitterest enemy derive some benefit from my nature and disposition. For it is far better for me that someone should be bound to me by a benefit beyond his desert, than that I should suffer many to be treated unjustly, when I have the power to prevent it. For I do not hate the man's noble wife and children. Yet not even he himself is worthy to suffer any evil at my hands because of the insults against me; far from it. He is, however, indeed worthy to be hated. For my desiring to grieve him, he says, and he speaks as one who thinks he will sting me. His intention, therefore, is not ^B blameless, but culpable. Yet let him know—or rather, let him not know, for he would cease from doing us a favor—but do you clearly know that the long-standing proverb, that one can derive benefit from enemies, is now shown to be true in fact. For what does the man not contribute to our glory and reputation? Whoever wishes to praise us, when he can find nothing else to say, brings forward this first, and unique, and greatest thing: that Julius speaks ill of him. And in this one word what multitude of good qualities is contained? Since to be opposed to every kind of wickedness is nothing else than to be akin to every kind of virtue. I, for my part, would not feel myself to be of such a nature; but he says so. For by the things he says to the contrary, he confirms this; so that I might even feel indebted to him. I swear by your sacred head and the salvation of my children, there is nothing by which he could confer a greater favor on me than by railing at me. For both before God and before men, this will stand for me as the most noble thing. But he will also pay the penalty for his intention; not to me—for perhaps even if I could, I would not wish to, and certainly, even if I wished to, I could ^C not. For what man, being at the mercy of the governor of the hour, is so unfortunate, as to wander in flight from his own home, and to have no hope of return, with enemies having encamped in my territory and using them as a base for operations against Cyrene? Yet to whom, to whom will he pay the penalty? To Justice itself. For I guarantee that I know this clearly. For justice will pursue him on my behalf, and on behalf of the common fatherland, for which we have acted in opposite ways, and on account of which we have become hateful to one another. For it is not on account of any personal matter of mine—nor would he himself be able to claim that. But the first cause is that the military and the local council were being forced into the status of day-laborers, and I was trying to resist; and I am not very angry with those who passed judgment on me and my accusers; although they did not pass judgment on me and accuse me with this intention, but thinking that they would harm you—this is cause enough to blame them. ^D

have placed their camps upon the estates, and use them as a citadel and fortress against Cyrene? To whom, then, to whom will he pay the penalty? To Justice herself. For I promise that this will undoubtedly be the case, a thing which I appear to know quite clearly. For she will avenge him in my name and in the name of our common fatherland, for the sake of which we have held different roles in administration; and for the sake of which we have incurred mutual offenses and enmities. For we have not incurred them for the sake of any affairs of mine: nor can he say that. But first of all, I had noticed that military affairs and the council of the city had degenerated into mercenary tasks, and I attempted to resist this. Afterward, indeed, the embassy itself alienated us from one another in the highest degree. I pass over what happened in the case of our associate Dioscorides, ^A which was carried out by me with all moderation, and not in such a way as to provoke the indignation of God or men. This is, however, clearly that [Nemesis] about which we sing to the lyre:

Moving stealthily you press your footsteps; You bow the haughty neck, You hold human life under your rule.

But when a decree had to be made, I for my part stood sponsor on behalf of the fatherland, that foreigners should be exempt from military service: but he argued against it for the sake of Helladius and Theodorus. And yet who is unaware that foreigners cause even those who are by nature the most soldierly of magistrates to unlearn their ways and transform them into merchants? Again, I wrote ^B about the abolition of the military command among us, which all who are here unanimously assert is the only remedy for our evils: that the cities go back to their ancient prefecture; that is, that they be placed and ordered under the governor of Egypt and the Libyans. But he argued against it for the sake of profit, and had the audacity to say openly that it was expedient for soldiers to be low and abject. But, oh you (for it is worth the effort that this be said to him by you), on account of these things you are now indeed accursed, you who, contrary to the rest, are a participant in a common fate. For you live happy among the miserable; but I endure the common unhappiness along with the city. Know, however, clearly, that it is still a law of nature that the parts are encompassed by the whole. And whenever, by the detriment of the body, the spleen grows beyond measure, until the whole stands, it increases and distends itself; but when the whole is perishing, it perishes together with it. And you, if you set your present success as your aim, you will fail, by your own policies, being fatal to the fatherland and to yourself. ^C Up until that point, Lasthenes was called a friend of Philip, until he betrayed Olynthus. But for one who lacks a fatherland, how is it possible to be happy?

LETTER XCV: To Olympius

I call God as witness, whom both philosophy and friendship revere, that I would willingly have endured not just one death, in preference to the episcopate. But since God has brought upon me not what I asked, but what he himself willed, I pray that the one who has become the shepherd of life— ^D

[...continued from previous page] as a shepherd of life, to become also the protector of the one assigned to me; so that this matter might not appear to me as a departure from philosophy, but as an ascent toward it. In the meantime, however, just as if something pleasant had happened to me, I would have shared it with you, O head most dear to me of all, so too do I send along to your ears these distressful things, so that you may both grieve with me, and if you are able, having examined the matter according to my nature, offer your opinion on what I must do. For I am currently attempting to judge the matter from such a distance that, having already reached the seventh month in this grievous and hateful office, I am dwelling far from the people among whom I am to minister, until I verify exactly what its nature is. And if it should be possible to perform this duty along with philosophy, I shall undertake it; but if it is something alien to my training and inclination, what else shall I do but set sail directly for illustrious Greece and depart? For if I renounce the priesthood, I must despair also of my fatherland, unless I am to be the most dishonored and accursed of all men, living among a crowd of those by whom I am hated. ^B

EPISTOLA XCVI. To the same.

Reading the letter in which you described your illness, I was at first afraid, but when I finished it, I took courage. For while you threatened danger, you announced better news. Regarding the things you requested to be sent from us or carried, all that is in our power will certainly be sent or carried. Moreover, it is superfluous to write of what is in our power and what is not. For the gift itself will reveal that. May you live forever in health and happiness, acceptable to God, most desired companion! And would that it might be granted for us to meet and enjoy each other’s company again, and that you do not leave before we see one another! But if it has seemed otherwise to God, do you remember me even in my absence. For you will find many better than Synesius; but you will not easily find many who love you more intensely.

EPISTOLA XCVII. To the same.

How do you think I read your most sweet letters with such thirst? And in what part of them did I not pour out my whole soul? I was affected ^D by them in various ways; and I hope that in not a long time I shall see my friend in Alexandria with his head still upon his shoulders. For by the fact that you have done a kindness to Secundus, you bestowed honor upon me; and by writing so honorably, you have made me deeply attached to you and your own, since we who crawl upon the ground do not recognize the merit of such a thing, being honored doubly, both by the greatness of what is written and by the zeal of the deeds done. I have indeed written to my master the Count many times before; but since in the letters you sent by the boy you complain that I have not written to him, I have given letters for him to my master, my brother. May you persevere in health and happiness, having a care for philosophy, as much as befits one who has embarked upon it with divine loves.

as much as it is fitting for him to have, who has attained it by the impulse of some divine love. I have written to you from my bed, barely able to sit up to finish the letter. Do you pray for the best things for us, which God surely will judge to be the best. If I recover, I will immediately aspire to reach Alexandria.

EPISTLE XCVIII

This is a new method of letter-writing that I have begun. For I have not written so that I might recommend to your friendship the person who will deliver this letter, but rather that I might give him to you as a benefit and a favor; he will be of no small profit to you and the great Diogenes, your delight. And it is not right for you to be angry if I think and say that it is not you who will be a gain to Theotimus, but Theotimus who will be a gain to you. But the matter is surely this: if that man is indeed the most divine of all poets living today, and if anyone has need of poetic power, so that he may seem illustrious even to posterity and not be unknown even to those far away. For all noble deeds, if they lack the proclamation of speech, fade from memory and are buried in oblivion, celebrated only during the time they are being performed, among those who see them face to face. Therefore, you must value this windfall offered to you beyond your expectations, and you must embrace it with the utmost zeal, even without any necessity. For out of reverence for the Muses, it is fitting to show every kindness to their priests, and not to consider them inferior to those who come to the thresholds of princes skilled in flattery. A third reason for your honoring him might be added: I, Synesius, approve of him in everything and admire him for the very things for which men are wont to be praised and accounted happy by one another. May you live forever healthy and safe, a man to be respected by me for every reason. All those who dwell in the same house as I do greet your sacred disposition; and of all, especially your Isio. In turn, we bid farewell to all who are with you, but especially to my Abramius. Whether what I have written should be given to the Count or not, you will judge.

EPISTLE XCIX

This is that Anastasius so often mentioned in our discourses. And if I were to introduce you to him, I would use the same praise for you. Therefore, as if you had long since been united with me, having the same bond of mutual recognition, embrace one another with mutual kindness, and see in common how you might procure for me some good thing. Leisure, moreover, is the greatest good, which, like a rich and fertile soil, can not undeservedly be said to bring forth all kinds of goods for the philosopher’s soul. But I will enjoy such leisure when I am able to be extricated from the Roman commonwealth: which will only happen if I obtain release from that accursed burden of public office, from which, so far as it depended on the Emperor, I have been delivered, but I would justly blame myself if I felt ashamed to be free of my own concern. I shall therefore defend myself to myself. For I shall say to him, "But this—if indeed this man is the most inspired poet of modern times, and he has need of poetic power."

perform the embassy. For again my tongue performs an embassy. And no one will contradict those who praise Pythagoras, who defined a friend as another self. ^A

EPISTLE C. To the same.

A Phycuntian man (for Phycus is the naval station of the Cyrenaeans) brought me a letter inscribed with your name. I read it with pleasure and at the same time with wonder. My love for you deserved this, but it also merited this elegance of speech; and immediately I established a Greek theater for you in Libya, announcing to all that they should come to hear learned writings. And now, throughout our cities, Pylæmenes is on everyone's lips, the author of that divine letter. One thing appeared strange, and happened contrary to the expectation of the theater: you asked for my ^B Cynegetica, as if there were something in them worthy of study. You seemed, therefore, to present a disposition full of mockery and simulation. For they did not think it possible that one who was, in their judgment, most inept at speaking, could produce any trifle worthy of your study. But I was freeing you from this suspicion of simulation; I was teaching them that, among the other good qualities you possess, you are most philanthropic, and most generous in your praises. Therefore, the request was not made out of mockery, but so that I might rejoice, honored by the testimony of such a man. Write, therefore, as often as it is possible, and provide the Cyrenaeans with the feast of your oratory; for no reading could be more pleasant to them ^C than the letters of Pylæmenes, by which they are already held captive in admiration for this specimen. You will certainly find many who are traveling here; and if no others, at least those who have held the lesser or greater governorship among us, or that of the Egyptians—whom no one could fail to recognize on account of the train of creditors following them. And since you think it concerns you to know the state of my affairs, we are playing the philosopher, my good man, having found solitude to be an excellent assistant for this, and no human being. And there is no one on Libya from whom I have heard a voice uttering philosophy, except perhaps the echo that repeats my own. But "adorn the Sparta you have inherited," as the proverb says. And I myself intend both to love and to adorn the fate I have been allotted, regarding this as an ^D athletic contest and a trial set before my life: whether I shall abandon philosophy, even though it be in misfortune. For if no other man bears witness to me, nevertheless God Himself will be witness, whose seed, the mind, is implanted in men. And I think that the stars themselves kindly look upon me from time to time, as one who is the only spectator among them on this vast continent, seeing that I am becoming knowledgeable. Pray, therefore, with us, that we may remain in the state in which we are; and for yourself, leave behind the

disappear, they who see him, even in the vastest region, as the sole contemplator of himself. Therefore pray this for us, that we may persevere in the same state; and for your part, that you leave the wretched forum, putting your own nature to better use! I would indeed greatly wish that you, still abounding in external comforts, might turn to those that are within. For to exchange the happiness of good fortune for prosperity ^A is like trading gold for bronze. I, for my part, rejoice in being mocked for this, that while my kinsmen canvass for magistracies, I alone among many lead a private life. For I prefer that my soul be garrisoned by virtues rather than my body by soldiers, since the present state of public affairs no longer admits of a philosopher as an administrator of the state. But if you are faring no better in the business of the forum—as I do not believe, nor have I ever thought ill of you, that you would dissent from your true self and become like those clerks who are celebrated in men’s speech—for I would hardly call them orators. If, I say, there is no other way to enrich oneself in your forum than by confounding all divine and human laws, and becoming a trickster instead of a free and noble man: if, then, you are not even growing rich, look all the more toward philosophy. Yet if you should find a man who practices philosophy with fervor and strength, ^B and if it would take traveling through both Greece and the lands of the barbarians to search him out—that would not be a thing to be reprehended: see that you share this windfall with us as well. But if we seem able to satisfy you, as in a time of grain shortage, come and be a participant in us and in all that is ours, provided that you do so under fair and equal terms, as is contained in the Lacedaemonian writing. Convey my greetings, again and again, to the most venerable Marcianus above all: whom, if I had said that he was the image of Hermes, the guide of teachings, who had come down to men before Aristides, I should scarcely have attained to his merit; for he is something more than an image. Though I had the greatest desire to send a letter directly to him, I did not dare, lest I be called to account by5those men filled with diverse erudition, who prune every little word to the quick. For there is no little danger in the letter being read in the Panhellenium. For that is what I call that place, where ^C I have often taken up heavy cares, when a wealth of learned men has flowed in from everywhere, to hear the sacred voice of the elder, who investigates all things, ancient and new. But also bid my companion, Eucharistus, to rejoice from me, and all those whom you judge it fitting.

EPISTLE CII

I commend to your friendship and patronage the excellent Sosenas, who has been nurtured and raised among the disciplines, although fortune has by no means responded in proportion to his merits. ^D

he blames the lack of fortune of his fatherland; and some argument persuades him that it is possible to change fortune along with one's location. He will arrive at the city that holds the king, as where the king is, there too is fortune most certainly, and perhaps it will recognize him. If you have any power, assist him in whatever he wishes. For it is worthy of you to be able, and to introduce those in need to good fortune. If he needs any of your friends, you yourself shall present him. ^A

LETTER CIII (35).

To the same.

By the god who protects my friendship and yours, I did not, O Pylæmenes, mock your goodwill toward your native land. I am not such an exile, nor so homeless; but you have badly interpreted the meaning of my letter, and you have accused me of things for which I should not have been accused. For that you love Heraclea, and are eager to do some good for the city, I praise. But my words were meant to show that philosophy ought to be preferred to this forensic occupation. Yet you seem to have persuaded yourself that I think you will bring more benefit to your fatherland from legal practice than from the study of philosophy. How so? Because you said that your love for your fatherland was the reason that you did not change your intention. Therefore, it was this that I mocked, and not the goodwill, because you wrongly think that it will be of service to you in that noble love of yours to be constantly lingering in the courts. For even if I were to say that philosophy is sufficient to restore cities, Cyrene would refute me, ^B lying, as it does, far more wretchedly, I imagine, than the cities in the Pontus. But I would say that philosophy, better than oratory and any other art or science you might name, since it is superior to all, renders its possessor more useful to an individual, to a household, and to cities. Yet it is not sufficient of itself to bring any good to mankind. For it is thus, my dear Pylæmenes: the best of disciplines are certain faculties and preparations of the soul, and as it were, a mere power and habit of use; but timing and fortunes drive the affairs of cities up and down. And now they are in this state, and now in another, by the necessity of the nature which they have obtained. You, therefore, are a lover of your fatherland: and I for my part am no less so. You profess oratory; and I do not forbid you to practice it, but that upright and noble discipline, which not even Plato, I think, attempted ^C to define. I honor philosophy, and I prefer it to all human goods. What then is the advantage of this over the others for the cities, if not that certain lives are also brought underneath which are sufficient for these intentions? For one needs the whole discipline; one needs

^A tools for one who is able to use them; but the thing that prepares these is fortune. If, therefore, you think that fortune will be present to you in that way alone—that is, through ^B rhetoric—so as some day to provide you with the power to hold the greatest magistracy, why have you condemned philosophy as a misfortune? But if it is equally possible for both to be absent and to be present, why do you not choose the best of the things that appear? For you yourself admit that philosophy in itself is better than rhetoric; yet you make the inferior thing more necessary for you, because you must support your city. As if now it were possible at least to hope for better things, but that once you had begun to philosophize, all the gods would become your enemies and would divert all fortune elsewhere, so that not even hope would be left. I, for my part, have not yet to this day heard such a doctrine, that it is a lot divinely attributed to holy philosophy to be unfortunate. ^C But it is with difficulty that strength and prudence might come together in the common mortal nature; yet sometimes God has joined them together. Wherefore it will be allowed by my argument—or rather, it will be necessary—that the same man be both a philosopher and a lover of his country: neither to despair of fortune, but to hope for better things also in accordance with one’s own merits. For by this one thing especially, as the old proverb says, the good surpass the bad: by good hope. How, then, shall we concede that they are in an inferior condition? But it will be necessary [to admit this], if we grant anything to your opinion, which led you into such an error that you said you must persevere in your craft for the sake of the republic. For allow me to turn the purgation of that cavil into an accusation, which, though it was nothing at all, seemed to you to be something. For it will not, I think, seem so any longer. Otherwise there is a danger that you might bring me, especially being your most friendly person, into an accusation before ^D sacred Cyrene. For if the cities should be convinced that rhetoric alone is able to change their present calamities, and that this alone is the honor of those who assist them—those who have lawsuits concerning contracts—they will be angry with us, who are devoted to something other than the tribunal. There is, therefore, one answer for me to you and to all the cities in defense of philosophy: when fortune is present, and when the order of the times has summoned it to the handling of affairs, there is no craft—nay, not even all of them at once—that can compare with philosophy in quickly setting in order, or changing the state of the republic, or in general, in instituting human affairs for the better. But when destiny is brought forth in this way, it makes sense to busy oneself with one's own affairs, but not to mismanage them, nor to act unbecomingly by thinking it right to be jostled beside another's office—to those for whom there is not a total necessity. And against necessity, they say, not even the gods contend. For us there are other, holier things; and when the mind is inactive regarding things here below, it acts regarding God. For these are the two parts of philosophy: theory and practice; and indeed there are two powers ^D for each of the two parts: wisdom and prudence—the latter being in need of fortune...

self-sufficient, and its operation cannot be hindered. ^A

EPISTOLA CIV. TO A BROTHER.

You might see the same men bold in time of peace, but cowardly in war—that is to say, wicked everywhere. Wherefore it seems to me that one should rightly be grateful for war, because it is an accurate test of the blood about the heart, and having taken up many arrogant men, it renders them more moderate to us. For I do not think that henceforth that dread fellow John will swagger through the marketplace, nor strike with his fist, nor trample with his heels upon any more moderate man. Yesterday, indeed, he clearly upheld that proverb, or rather, that oracle. For it is truly an oracle, one which you absolutely must know:

No man fosters his hair, but he is a catamite.

For some days the incursion of the enemy was being announced in succession; and it seemed best to me that we should meet them, and the phylarch led out the Balagritae in formation. Then, reaching the plain, we waited. But as they appeared nowhere, toward evening we each retreated home ^B, having agreed to be present again the next day. But the Phrygian John was meanwhile nowhere to be found, so as to show himself to the sight of men; but he was sending rumors about: now that he had broken his leg, and therefore he was being cut (or, he was in agony); now that he was suffering from shortness of breath; now that some other strange evil had befallen him. Such were the kind of rumor-mongers coming to and fro, some claiming to arrive from one place, some from another, so that it was not even certain where on earth John had hidden or was concealing himself. Meanwhile, as they recounted this, they lamented with tears at the untimely nature of the calamity. “Now there is need of that noble heart; now of his hands! What would he have done? What might have happened?” And above all, “O, the cruelty of fate!” ^C each would say, and having clapped his hands, would depart. And these were of those belonging to the number of people who were long since being maintained by him for no useful purpose—long-haired ones too, and useless for anything,

Who were accustomed to steal lambs and kids openly, II. W. And, by the gods, sometimes even women.

He had long since prepared such companies of men-at-arms; with whom— ^D

[index: entries preserved]

he does not even try to appear as a man: for to be a sophist is a difficult thing, and as to how one might show himself a man among those who are really such, he considers most excellently. But it seems to me that the deity has opposed his designs in a noble fashion. For we had already been five days on the march with our arms, while the enemy was still laying waste the furthest borders of the province, when he, having ^A utterly despaired that they would arrive—since he did not imagine they would dare to penetrate into the interior—arrived, and immediately filled everything with disorder. And he made no mention of his illness, but mocked those who had been patient enough to listen to it; and he said that he himself had returned from a distant region, I know not where. For he had been summoned there to bring aid; and he claimed that by this one action the lands of those who had summoned him had been saved; for the enemy had not even broken in, having been struck with panic at the mere rumor of the arrival of John. When matters there had been settled in safety, he said he had hastened to the part of the province that had suffered, because he asserted that they would arrive shortly, if only his presence were kept hidden and his name not bruited about. ^B Suddenly, therefore, he began to disturb everything, as he wrongly interfered with the duties of the leader, and promised that he would shortly teach the art of winning, crying out repeatedly "to the front," "to the phalanx," and "to the flank" more often, and droning on about "the oblong square," calling out the names of formations whose use he did not know. And thus he seemed to some to be a man of importance, and they praised his nature, and many became his students. But by now it was late evening, and the time for an incursion, and we had traveled far beyond the mountains. Here four young men in rustic dress, shouting as loudly as their heads could contain, were racing toward us, so that no seer was needed to divine that they feared the enemy and were hastening to find refuge within our lines. Before we could even fully make out those announcing that the enemy ^C was present, we saw poor little fellows on horses, who to me seemed led by the hunger of their leader, and most ready to meet death for the sake of invading our goods. And when they had caught sight of us, and were themselves seen, before coming within range of a javelin, they dismounted from their horses as they were wont, and prepared themselves for combat; and it seemed to me the best course of action for human beings to follow, for the region itself was not suited for cavalry. But that generous fellow said that he would by no means offend against the laws of horsemanship, but would engage in an equestrian contest. What then? With the reins violently twisted, he turned about, and throwing himself into it, fled with all the speed he could muster, drenching the horse in blood, with all the reins cast loose and all the spurs applied; then came the frequent blows of the whip, and his voice rang out more sharply to urge it on. It is difficult to say whom one would praise more, the horse or the rider. For the former was carried downward and upward and through the thickets and the clearings with equal speed, leaping across ditches and rising over the mounds; while the latter remained seated through all ^D that rough ground, and in no way did he slip from his saddle. For it seems to me that it was a fine spectacle for the enemy as well, and there was much they might have prayed to see of such— [index: entries preserved]

...none the less than it was carried bare: it would cross ditches in a single bound, and be reined in upon mounds; he sat his horse at all times, and never once tumbled from his seat. To me, and indeed to the enemy, this spectacle seemed a delightful one; a sight that many would crave to behold, but which, as far as it lay with us, they scarcely saw. For, as was natural, we were more dispirited, being in large measure deceived by the hopes we had placed in that fellow with the ringlets. We drew up our battle line, therefore, intending to receive the enemy should they attack first, but we ourselves ^A resolved not to initiate the fighting. For even one who might himself be bold and brave was suspicious of his comrade, looking back at the recent example. Then, there was nothing truly more disgraceful than the ringlets; for as everyone had them, so too was everyone suspected of being the first to betray us. But I know not whether the enemy had the same thought in mind: for they too stood drawn up awaiting us, as if to repel us if we attacked them. But since no battle was attempted by either side, they first turned their line to the left, and we likewise turned to the other side; neither moved with a quickened pace, but rather with a slow advance, so that the withdrawal might not appear to be a flight. Yet, even while in these circumstances, we inquired where on earth John might be. But he, in a single breath, had arrived at Bombaea and, like a field mouse, had hidden himself in the rock. Bombaea is a hollow mountain which art and nature, working in concert, have rendered a most fortified stronghold. This was, even in times past, deservedly famous, and some compared it to the Egyptian labyrinths (44). But now it is judged to surpass all walls and fortifications everywhere, since he, ever the most prudent of all men regarding himself—lest I use the word too bluntly and call him most cowardly, which is the proper name for the thing—has taken station in it and has preferred it to others for his own safety. For as one enters, it is immediately sinuous with twists and turns, and difficult to navigate, such that it could only accommodate the flight of John.

EPISTLE CV

I would be a fool if I did not feel great gratitude toward the Ptolemais for deeming me worthy of such things, as I do not even deem myself worthy. But it is not how great the things are that they grant that one should consider; rather, whether it is possible for me to accept them. For a man to attain near-divine honors, if indeed he be worthy of attaining them, is something that results in the most pleasant fruit for the soul; but if he is far inferior to the dignity of the office, it presents him with a bitter hope for the future. For this fear is not new to me, but extremely ancient: lest, by committing some offense against God, I should nevertheless find honor from men. ^C But when I examine myself, I find that I am entirely too deficient to match the solemnity of the priesthood. And so I shall speak to you about the movements of my own soul. For I have no one else besides you, my dear friend and companion from my earliest days. For it is natural that you should share in the same cares as I, and keep watch through the night, and look during the day, as to how some good might come to me, and how

^A I might escape some evil. Hear then how my affairs stand, and you might possibly know most of them. Having taken up a small burden, I seem to myself to have borne it well up to this point: philosophy. But because I am thought not to fail in it entirely, and having been praised by some, I am deemed worthy of greater things by those who do not know how to judge the aptitude of a soul. I fear, however, lest by becoming arrogant, and accepting the honor, I should fall short of both—despising the one, and failing to reach the dignity of the other. For consider it thus: I divide my time at each turn into these two things: leisure and study. And when I am occupied in study, I am devoted to myself alone, especially in divine things. But when I am at leisure, I am most of all exposed to everyone. You know, indeed, that when I lift my eyes from my books, I am inclined toward every kind of leisure. I am by nature and by habit void of civic care and solicitude. But a priest must be a divine man, since he ought to be as alien and as inexorable to all leisure as God Himself is; he who keeps his rule of life is guarded by countless eyes, of which there is no use, or very little, unless a man is so fashioned that he is composed toward solemnity, and cannot be broken or softened by any pleasure. But in matters that pertain to God, he must not be ^B devoted to himself alone, but must be the most common man of all, as one who is a teacher of laws and speaks what is in accordance with the laws. It is necessary, in truth, that he alone sustain as many affairs as all others combined. For one man must perform what belongs to all, or else he must be liable to all manner of accusations. How, then, would it not be a sign of a great and most excellent soul to endure such a mass and weight of cares, and not to overwhelm the mind, and not to neglect the divine portion extinguished in the soul, as such manifold activities lead him astray? I know well that this is possible for some, and I bless those natures, and I truly consider them divine men, whom the constant handling of human affairs does not cut off from the divine association. But I know that I myself go down to the city, and ascend from the city, and am implicated in those things that drag one down to earthly and low matters, and I am defiled by such stains as no one could describe. For as for myself, because private and inveterate stains have grown upon me, whatever the least thing that is added to them makes for a most abundant accumulation. But I have no strength, nor are the things within ^C firm, nor do I have the ability to bear the anguish from my conscience. And as often as anyone asks me, I do not shrink from saying frankly that it is fitting for a priest to be unblemished in every way, ^D and to be cleansed of pollutions with much to spare, so that he may also cleanse others. And this also must be added to my letters to my brother. For many people will surely read the letter. For I have dictated it not least for this reason, that it may be clear to all, and that I may be blameless—both toward God and toward men, and not least toward father Theophilus—in regard to the matter I have set in the midst.

^A For my part, both God, and the law, and the sacred hand of Theophilus have given me a wife. I declare, therefore, to all, and I call them to witness, that I will neither put her away entirely, nor will I live with her secretly as an adulterer. The former is by no means pious, and the latter by no means lawful. But I shall desire, and I shall pray, to have many and good children by her. ^B It is necessary that the lord who granted the ordination be made aware of this; let him learn it from those around my friend Paul and Dionysius, whom I hear have been chosen as deputies by the people. He needs not to learn this, but only to be reminded of it; and I shall speak more about it. For if one were to compare all other things with this one, they would be deemed small. It is difficult, if not altogether impossible, for opinions that have reached the manifestation of truth through knowledge to be shaken. You know that philosophy often conflicts with those dogmas that are bruited about. Certainly, I will never consider the soul to be younger than the body. I will not say that the world and the other parts perish together with it. The commonly accepted resurrection ^C I consider to be something sacred and ineffable, and I am far from agreeing with the notions of the multitude. A philosophical mind, being a spectator of the truth, permits the use of falsehood (or rather, the lie). For reason is to truth what light is to the eye. Therefore, just as an eye might enjoy an insatiable light to its own detriment, and in the same way that darkness is more beneficial to those with diseased eyes, so I hold that a lie is a benefit to the people, and the truth is harmful to those who are unable to gaze intently upon the evidence of reality. ^D

^A If these things are permitted to me by the laws of our priesthood, I could accept the office of priest, existing as one who holds to philosophy for those at home, but to traditional myths for those outside; if not teaching them, at least not untaching them, but allowing them to remain in their preconceived notions. But if they say it must be otherwise, and that the priest must be a crowd-pleaser in his opinions, I would not be slow to make myself manifest to all. For indeed, what do the crowd and philosophy have in common? The truth of divine matters ought to be kept secret, but the multitude needs a different sort of disposition. Again, I will say it often, that when no necessity is present, it is wise neither to refute nor to be refuted. But being called to the priesthood, I do not deign to feign my doctrines. I call God and men to witness this. Truth is akin to God, before whom I desire to be free from all blame. This one thing I cannot conceal. For although I am fond of play (as from my boyhood a love of arms and horses has been considered a disgrace to me), I will indeed be grieved—for how could I endure to look upon my most beloved hounds without hunting, or my bows eaten away by woodworms?—yet I will endure it, if God should command it. And though I am averse to cares, I will, not without hardship, endure lawsuits and business, fulfilling this office, however burdensome, for God. But I will not darken my doctrines, nor shall my tongue be at variance with my mind. Thinking thus and speaking thus, I believe I am pleasing to God. I do not wish for any story to be left about me ^B as if I had seized the ordination in ignorance. But let the most God-beloved father Theophilus, knowing this and having made it clear to me—knowing as he does—let him thus take counsel regarding me. For he will either leave me in my own place to philosophize by myself, or, if he decides otherwise, he will not lack a place for himself to judge and to strike us from the chorus of priests. All thought contrary to this is nonsense. For the truth is, I well know, most dear to God. And I swear by your sacred head, and—even before that—by God, the guardian of truth, that I am hesitant. For how should I not be, when I must change my life as if it were a mask? But if, when these things are made known, which I do not wish to remain hidden, he judges me worthy of the priesthood, having had this gift from God, I will submit to the necessity and will accept it as a divine sign; for I reckon that even if the Emperor or some Augustalian prefect had commanded it, I would have paid the penalty for not obeying. But one must obey God willingly. If, however, God does not receive me as a minister, ^C it is, from the very beginning, necessary for one who loves the most divine truth—but not through its absolute opposites, such as lying—to slip into service to Him. Be sure to make these things known to the scholars, and to report them to him. ^D

NOTES BY DIONYSIUS PETAVIUS

scholastics" the learned and polished men who spent their time in the Museum at Alexandria with literature, or those who were otherwise elegant in their intellectual pursuits. ^A

EPISTLE CVI: To the same.

I inquired of the youth regarding the silphium, whether it had come to you from your own cultivation, or if, having received it as a gift, you had set aside a portion for me. And having learned that the garden which you tend with such care had, among all its other products, brought forth this one as well, I rejoiced doubly: both for the beauty of the vegetable and for the fame of the place. May you be blessed in that all-productive plot of land; and may you never weary of watering those most beloved garden beds, nor may they ever become so tired or exhausted from such births that you cannot both enjoy them yourself and send to us whatever the seasons bring forth.

EPISTLE CVII: To the same.

You are amusing when you forbid us to prepare arms, while the enemy holds all things far and wide, plundering everything, and slaughtering whole populations daily, while there is no soldier available who might even be seen. Since these things are so, will you still deny that it is permissible for private citizens to bear arms? Or will you say that it is permissible to die, if the state is angry with those who look to their own safety? But if I gain nothing else, I shall at least gain this: that laws and rights might hold sway instead of those execrable pests. And how much do you think I value this, to see peace return, and the tribunal decorated, and the herald commanding silence? I would die immediately, as soon as the fatherland recovers its original form. ^B

EPISTLE CVIII: To the same.

I already have three hundred lances fashioned, and as many curved blades; as for double-edged swords, there were previously no more than ten. Yet such long iron weapons are not forged among us. But I am of the opinion that the curved blades strike more powerfully into the bodies of the enemy. Therefore, we shall use these. And if there is need for such things, we shall also have clubs; for those of wild olive are excellent among us. Some of our men, moreover, have axes, each one with only one sharp side on its belt; with these, they strike at their shields. ^C

with whom we are compelled to do battle, we who have no defense of armor. The battle, as far as I can surmise, will be joined the day after tomorrow. For when some of the enemy’s scouts fell in with our own and chased them with all their strength, upon recognizing that our men were too fast to be caught, they ordered them to bring us the most pleasant of news: that we should no longer have to wander, searching for those men who retreat into the vast regions of the continent. For they said they are waiting and wish to know what kind of men we really are, who have dared to be drawn so many days’ journey from our own lands in order to join battle with belligerent men—men who live wandering and segregated lives, and who use the same form of commonwealth as we do for our expedition and army. Therefore, as I shall defeat the enemy tomorrow with God’s help, or—if it must be—conquer again (for I would wish to portend nothing evil), I commit the care of my children to your ^A trust. For it is fitting that you, being their uncle, should transfer to them the memory of the affection I have for you.

EPISTLE CIX

To the same.

I have neither ass, nor mule, nor horse in abundance—all having been sent out to pasture—with which I might travel to you, my most dear friend. I truly wished to make the journey on foot, and perhaps I could have; but my relatives forbade it, saying it should not be done, lest we provide laughter for those we might meet on the way. For they consider these men, whoever they may be, to be ever so wise and possessed of such sharpness of mind that each one of them sees better than I myself what is becoming for me. Thus, they bind us with many judges, who compel us to serve the fame and opinion of men. They ^C prevailed, not merely by advising, but by applying a certain greater force. For when I was setting out, they would not permit me, but pulled me back by my cloak. What, therefore, remains, except that I send this letter to you in my stead, by which I convey my greetings to you? Then I ask this of you: what news has been brought from Ptolemais? I refer to certain recent rumors, which it is likely you are bringing back from the headquarters, especially what this well-circulated secret from the West might be. For you know that it matters to me whether it happened thus or otherwise. Therefore, if you send me a letter explaining everything clearly, I shall wait; but if not, you yourself shall blame me for the journey I undertook to you.

EPISTLE CX

To the same.

Chilas the pimp, whom it is unlikely that many do not know because of the fame of his craft—for the mime Andromache, who blossomed with the praise of beauty above all the women of our age, was of his troupe—has, after spending his youth in such ^D noble pursuits, thought it fitting, to match his past way of life, to illustrate his name in his old age with military ranks. Lately, therefore, he has come, having been allotted by the emperor the command of the most valiant Marcomanni; and it is credible that for us, since they were previously excellent soldiers, if they have now obtained a suitable leader,

of the general, to display some great and noble achievement. ^A Indeed, while conversing with Syrianus [or Serennianus], he said: "You know that doctor from the neighborhood." Syrianus [or Serennianus] reported to us the state in which he had left the divine camp. But what need is there to write to you of other matters, which I myself heard only in passing? Yet the things which, upon hearing them myself, I was wonderfully delighted by, and with which I wish to make you rejoice as well, are these: Our remarkable John—to say little—remains in the same condition, while his fortune in these affairs is thriving as much as such a rise can extend, and he has discovered for it a certain surpassing quality of its own. For the Emperor’s ears are opened to him; and, what is the chief thing, the Emperor’s own mind is disposed to use him for whatever purpose may be necessary. And whatever power Antiochus ^B possesses, he possesses it in this man; and Antiochus can do whatever he wishes. Do not think of the Antiochus who was with Gratian, that holy man, most respectable in character, but hideously ugly in appearance. But rather, there is another man: that paunchy youth who held the chief authority with Narses the Persian, and has retained it since. From that time to the present, fortune has rendered him great. Since these things are so, it is fitting that the most just magistrate—who is related to the one by kin and joined to the other by intimacy—should preside over us for many long years.

EPISTLE CXI. To Troilus.

You ask about Dioscorus, how many lines he recites ^C each day? Fifty. These he renders without stumbling, without repeating, and without pausing to collect his memory over time; but once he begins to speak, he continues straight through, and silence is the end of his recitation.

EPISTLE CXII. To the Same.

Men do not love and praise for the same reasons; nor has the same power of the soul been assigned to both tasks. But we are drawn to or alienated from one another by the part of the soul that is susceptible to feelings, while we praise or blame by that which is capable of judging and possesses reason.

EPISTLE CXIII. To his Brother.

Is it so, then? Shall we see these wretched men willing to court death for the sake of other people’s property, whatever they may have plundered, lest they be forced to return them to those to whom they belong; while we, for our homes, for our holy things, for our laws, and for our fortunes, to which longer association has accustomed us, will not expose our lives to every danger, but instead look only to our own safety? We shall truly not appear to be men. For my part, I must...

as I have it, and ^A a trial must be made of all these men who, being what they are, dare to mock the Romans, whatever state they may be in. For they say that even a mangy camel bears the burdens of many donkeys. Indeed, I often see those who are most anxious to preserve their lives dying in such circumstances, while those who have despaired of life survive. Of these I shall be one. For I will fight as one destined to die: and I do not doubt that I shall survive. For I am a Lacedaemonian by descent, and I know well the letter of the magistrates to Leonidas: "Fight as if you were to die forthwith, and you will not die."

LETTER CXIV

And are you surprised, dwelling among the scorching Phycontes, if you are cold and your blood has become corrupted? On the contrary, it would be a marvel if your body could overcome that heat. But you can, with God's favor, if you move to us, recover your health, once you have been freed from air infected by marshy vapors; freed also from water that is salty, tepid, and altogether stagnant—which is to say, dead. And what pleasure is there, pray, in lying on the seashore sand, which is your only place of retreat? For where else can you turn? With us, however, it is permitted to sit in the shade of a tree. If you should grow weary, you may move from one tree to another, or from one grove to another. And what is it to cross a stream of running water? How pleasant is the Zephyr that gently sways the branches! Nor are the varied concerts of the birds lacking, nor the paintings of the flowers, nor the shrubs in the meadows—some the work of agriculture, others the gifts of nature; all fragrant, and the saps of a healthy earth. As for the grotto of the Nymphs, I shall not praise it; it requires a Theocritus. And besides these things, there is even more. ^{B C}

Letter CXV

The sparing of food is a necessary good. If some other person were to mock this, for you it is certainly a sin, as you boast of Hippocrates, who in a brief maxim said that fasting is the mother of health.

LETTER CXVI

"To the mountain, or unto the wave of the sea, surging with a murmur."

Homer wishes the evils of strife to be sent far away. Philosophy, however, does not grant them entrance to the soul even at the beginning. But we are too weak for philosophy, at least as far as I am concerned. Nevertheless, we do not wish to be ^D inferior to soldiers altogether, as if...

to the worse, whom he described in his verses. ^A Therefore, Homer must again be used, who said somewhere:

*Incipe, nam natu minor es.* (Begin, for you are younger in birth.)

For may fighting and contention be absent entirely; but if any happens, let the younger begin it. For something of this sort came into the mind of Neptune, that he should give the power of commencing the battle to the younger god. And it is fitting for one greater in age to lead the way to the most honorable things: and the most honorable is concord. But that I am not only senior to you, but even an old man, is manifest from my skin, as Pherecydes said. Therefore the arguments of my apology come round to me. But if it is necessary that he who first committed an offense should be the first to yield, and you wish me to be that person, I concede even this for your sake. For it is right that he who is reconciled to you first, should immediately grant you whatever favors you desire.

LETTER CXVII.

Fame says that you possess great favor ^B and authority with the current prefect of Egypt; and it speaks the truth, for you are most worthy, using the power you have honorably. Therefore, that you may reap some fruit from your nature and your power, concerning those things which my Eusebius requires of you, hear him as he explains, so that you may also understand that I have recommended him as an orator.

Letter CXVIII.

If you know the hero Maximus [gr. Maximianus], for he has been for a long time in the military camp, you certainly also know that he is a good man. His son, who is my cousin on my father's side, is the one who will deliver this letter to you; to whom another person perhaps might grant honor on account of his rank: for he is of those who have held a not obscure magistracy. ^C But the philosopher Troilus will penetrate the inmost recesses of the youth, and will praise him from that point. It is clear, moreover, that you will also assist him in its present circumstances. For he is being torn to pieces by the informers who are overrunning Cyrene, unless you yourself put on your strength. For whatever you shall persuade Anthemius, or any other of equal authority, to speak on our behalf and for the truth, this will surely be your work, and you will be considered the cause of whatever is done. By means of one man, therefore, and one matter, I beseech you, exert yourself so that we may be delivered from these most wicked beasts. For the fact that it has turned out successfully for those who went before, will spur many to grow like them.

Letter CXIX.

Whatever you contribute ^D to Diogenes of those things for which your nature is suited to perform, you will have done nothing new, but you will have added something to your own merits. For he is a Cyrenaean, from that city which is still a city through your efforts. It is fitting to act well not only toward the whole body, but also toward individuals. What those things are, moreover, for which Diogenes has need of friends, you ought not to read from my writing, but to hear from him as he speaks. For nothing could be more eloquent than one who has suffered. To Marcian the philosopher, who held the prefecture of Paphlagonia, commend...

of me. And if he can do anything—and I surmise that he can—let him strive to prevent my kinsman, a very near cousin ^A of mine, from being miserably destroyed by calumniating informers, the most certain pests of our country; whom I entrust to you with this letter in the place of a son, for whose sake, though we are only two brothers, we are numbered as three.

LETTER CXX

Physicians are accustomed to prescribe a draught of tepid water to those who have difficulty vomiting, so that they may draw out whatever is within along with it. I desire, therefore, to announce to you some new rumors, which have recently been brought to me from the mainland, so that you may return them to me with interest, adding anything more that you happen to know.

LETTER CXXI

Ulysses was persuading Polyphemus to let him out of the cave. "For I am a sorcerer," he said, "and I might serve you well at a favorable moment, you who are not experiencing success in your marine love affair. ^B For I know incantations, and bindings, and erotic lures, to which it is not likely that Galatea could resist or hold out even a little. Only do you support the task of moving the door—or rather, this great stone; for to me it appears to be a promontory. I, for my part, will return to you sooner than a word, having accomplished the deed with the girl. What did I say, accomplished? I shall render her herself, brought hither, compliant to you; she will entreat you and beseech you, but you shall play the fastidious one and feign indifference. ^C But meanwhile, something of this sort has jolted me: lest the stench of raw fleeces be unpleasant to a delicate girl, who bathes many times a day. It would be wise, therefore, if, setting everything in order, you were to sweep and wash and fumigate the room; and better still, if you were to prepare garlands of ivy and smilax, to crown both yourself and your beloved. But why do you still hesitate? Are you not yet setting to work on the door?" At these words Polyphemus let out a laugh as loud as he could, and clapped his hands. Ulysses indeed, from joy, ^D imagined him to be beside himself, because he hoped he was about to possess his beloved. But he, stroking his chin gently, said, "Noman, you seem to me a most cunning little man, and worn by experience. But weave some other trick; for you shall not escape from here." Thus Ulysses (for he was indeed being injured) was about to be relieved of his craftiness. But as for you, whom justice has pursued for being a Cyclops in audacity and a Sisyphus in your undertakings, and whom the law has constrained—laws which I hope you never mock. But if it is absolutely necessary that you be above the laws, let me not be the one who dissolves them or breaks the doors of the prison of those in bonds. For if the administration of the commonwealth were in the hands of bishops, they themselves ought to be the repressers of wickedness. For the public sword is no less...

or lustral water, which is placed in the vestibules of the temples, is a piaculum for the city. ^A Thus we hear of the glory of the ancients, and the fame of men.

They used to act in this manner, as long as it seemed best for the same man to offer prayers for the common good, and to labor that it might come to pass. For both the Egyptians and the race of the Hebrews were for a long time ruled by their priests. But after a divorce was made between the two lives, and some things were assigned to sacred matters and others to government; and while others were tasked with the conduct of affairs, we were set over the offering of prayers, for whom the law forbids to reach a hand to justice, and to kill the most wicked man: how could anyone have granted to them to reach a hand against justice to an old hand? But for my part, as far as it rests with me, I move every stone, and I pray both privately and in the common sacred rites that justice may be superior to injustice, and that the city may be purged of all wickedness. And this is the same thing as for evil to perish badly, both you and anyone else who is like you. ^B And let this be a proof to you of what kind of man I would have been, if it had been permitted to me to do anything, I who, because nothing is permitted, doom you with curses.

EPISTLE CXXII.

To his Brother.

May many goods befall the priests of the Auxiditae, who, when the soldiers had hidden themselves in the crevices of the mountains and wished to preserve their own blood, calling together the rustic people, led them straight from the sacred rites themselves against the enemy; ^C and having prayed to God, they erected a trophy in Myrsinitide. This valley is long and deep, and thick with woods; but the barbarians, because no hostile arms had met them, had even entered boldly. But they were surely destined to encounter the spirited and stout-hearted Faustus, who performs the office of deacon in the sacred rites. This is he who, unarmed, first withstood the armed soldier: whom he struck at close range with a rock against the temple, not to fell him, but as if to leap upon him with hostile fists. When he had fallen, and he had stripped him of his arms, he struck down very many upon him. And if anyone else seemed to be a brave man at that time, to Faustus alone must the glory of the whole affair be attributed, both on account of those things which he did, and on account of those things which he said during that time. ^D I, for my part, would most gladly crown and proclaim with the voice of a herald all those who were present at the deed. For they showed themselves the first authors of noble deeds; in order to demonstrate to those stunned and frenzied men that they are not Corybantes, nor demons from the attendants of Mother Rhea, but men equally liable to wounds and death as we are. And if we, too, were men in such circumstances, not even second place would be without ambition. Perhaps we might even be granted first place, if we had not been successful by lying in wait in a ravine and plundering for fifteen days, but in a lawful...

in such matters, not even the second role would be lacking to them. And perhaps they might even be awarded the first, if we were not fighting a skirmish with a mere fifteen men, trapped by an ambush in a valley, but were instead settling things in a just battle with manifest preparation and joined forces. ^A

EPISTOLA CXXIII. To Troilus.

*“But if even in Hades the dead should forget the departed,* *Yet will I remember my dear companion there.”*

These verses were indeed written by Homer, though I know not whether their meaning could be more justly claimed by Achilles regarding Patroclus than by me regarding you, my most dear and beneficent head. For, as God, whom philosophy worships, is my witness, I carry the image of your sacred and most sweet soul fixed in the center of my heart, and the marvelous echo of your ^B wise words still rings in my ears. But when I had returned to my homeland from Egypt and read your letters from two years all at once, I shed a great flood of tears upon the pages. For it was not so much the pleasure of enjoying you in some way through the letters that affected me, as it was the pain of bringing back your presence and living conversation into my mind; for I felt as though I had been deprived of both a friend and a true living father at the same time. I would therefore gladly undergo sterner struggles for my country, so that an opportunity for departure might be granted to me once again. For when shall I enjoy your sight, O truly most genuine Father? When shall I embrace your sacred head? When shall I be a partaker of the council that is blessed because of you? For if it should happen that I obtain these things, I shall surely make it so that the story regarding Aeson the Thessalian—whom the poems of the poets proclaim to have been twice a youth, having suddenly become a young man from an old one—is no longer a myth. ^C

EPISTOLA CXXIV. To a Philosopher.

*“But if even in Hades the dead should forget the departed,* *Yet will I remember my dear Hypatia there.”*

I, indeed, surrounded by the evils of my country and weary of it, as I see hostile weapons every day and men slaughtered like cattle, and as I draw in the air infected by the decay of bodies and expect the same fate myself soon—(for who can hope for good when the very face of the air is most dismal, being covered by the shadow of flesh-eating birds?)—nonetheless, I am still attached to this place. For what can I do, being a Libyan, born there, and seeing there the not-ignoble tombs of my ancestors? Yet because of you alone, I seem likely to despise my country, and as soon as leisure is granted, I shall depart. ^D

EPISTOLA CXXV. To a brother.

We are in a miserable state, in that we abound in unfortunate news which we transmit to one another. For behold, they have already depopulated Battia, and they have made incursions into Aprosylis; they have burned the fields, laid waste to the land, and carried off the women into slavery. There is no mercy whatsoever for the males, although previously they were accustomed to take the children alive.

ds, laid waste to the land, and carried off the women into slavery. There is no mercy whatsoever for the males, although previously they were accustomed to take the children alive. But now, I think, they realize they are too few in number to post many guards over the spoils, and to be sufficient to defend what is left if someone should attack. Among us, however, no one feels any indignation; rather, we sit at home, awaiting in our fig-tree helplessness the soldiers and our pay, and we have in our mouths complaints about the advantages of peacetime, as if we ought to be judging them rather than having them defend us. Shall we never cease our prattling? Shall we never grow wise and, gathering the plowmen who toil over the clods of earth, join together and hold our ground against the enemy, on behalf of our children, our wives, our homes, and, if you will, even on behalf of the soldiers themselves? For these things are fine to speak of in times of peace: that we feed them and keep them safe. Yet I myself dictated this letter while all but mounted on horseback. For I have appointed both companies and centurions from those who are present. And a substantial multitude is assembling for me at Asusamantis. For I have sent word to the Soestites to meet me at Cleopatra. I hope that once we have set out on the road, and a youthful force has been proclaimed as gathering around me, the unbidden ones will be far more numerous. For they will come from everywhere—the best of them to partake in a noble deed, but the most wicked for the sake of plundering spoils.

LETTER CXXVI. To Asclepiodotus.

Woe is me! But what is "woe is me"? I suffer what is worthy of a mortal. The third and last of my children has departed. Yet that conviction—that nothing which is not in our power is either good or evil—still remains in my soul. Or rather, in the past it was a lesson, but now it has become a dogma of a soul exercised by tribulations. It was necessary, then, that the onslaught of this evil should be stronger for me; and for that reason that demon, whose care it is to harm my affairs, took steps beforehand so that not even you, my most dear friend, would be present. But do come at last, you noble and thrice-desired [man], you most sincere of all friends. I am witness to the noble Menelaus’s affection toward you. For that reason I have often conversed with him with pleasure, because he follows you with the most honorable memory; and because, even though he is entirely absorbed in the care of his soul, and in the mentors who are taking him straight to Teuchira, he still shows himself grateful toward the great Asclepiodotus, and persists in giving thanks to him as to one who has deserved the best of him. So that we may have a supply of cold water, I am looking for a jar or a storage vessel of marble; the larger it is, the better. It will be placed by the river Asclepius; beside it

marble, the more great it is, the better it will be. For it will be placed by the Asclepius river. For I am establishing it near the monastery, and for this I am preparing pure and holy vessels. And would that I might begin the work with God! ^A

EPISTLE CXXVII

To the brother.

Avoid the asp, the toad, the snake, and the Laodiceans, And the rabid dog, and the Laodiceans again.

But after the most humane and philosophic Pentadius, Euthalius the Laodicean has received the tablets which the state makes the sign of the Egyptian magistracy. You know the young man, as it is possible to surmise, who spent time in the camp during the same period as us. For neither his character nor his by-name permitted him to remain hidden. You have heard of a certain "Money-bag" ^B who did not receive the inheritance of this distinguished name from his father, but earned it for himself. For when, I believe, he was appointed governor of Lydia during the times of Rufinus, and was harassing and plundering the Lydians, Rufinus, indignant, fined him fifteen pounds of gold. For this he employed soldiers from his own cohort, as he thought, the most brave and loyal, to forcibly extract that gold and bring it in good faith to his table. What, then, does this Sisyphus say to these things? But let me not be overly foolish in adding such well-known matters. It has certainly reached your ears about that pair of purses, which, making them much more like the horses of Eumelus, he constructed to resemble one another: in one he placed bronze obols, in the other gold coins. ^C Then, showing one of these and hiding the other, when they had counted them, when they had weighed them, and when finally they had sealed the gold with the public seal, he secretly substituted the other in its place, and sent the obols instead of the staters. Yet they had confessed in public documents that they held the gold and would bring it as soon as possible. From that time on, Daphnis is held to be the first of the shepherds.

This one thing raised Euthalius to great fortune. For he did not permit laughter to grieve anyone on behalf of the state; but they desired to see him as a man more skilled in conjuring tricks than any who had ever existed. He came, therefore, sent for as if a benefactor of the Romans, riding through the cities in a solemn public carriage procession. ^D I, for my part, know the little man to be clearer-spoken than all those sitting in the portico of the council chamber. He will very soon succeed his companion Pentadius in the magistracy.

EPISTLE CXXVIII

To a bishop cast out of his bishopric, because he would not concur with the doctrine of Arius.

What you were, has been received by you, not lost. For when someone is separated from the cohort of impiety, he is not then also stripped of the throne of piety. Embrace this removal from Egypt: and consider that the prophet has cried out to you also with a loud voice: What

and the land of Egypt, to drink the water of Geon? For that nation is long since rebellious against God, and hostile to the holy Fathers.

EPISTLE CXXIX. To Pylæmenes.

Socrates is introduced in Plato ^B as coming late to his beloved, and therefore asking that they should not be surprised if, as he says, he began with difficulty, so he should also end with difficulty. I, too, seem to have conceived the same feeling of mind toward you, and to be entitled to beg the same indulgence from you, having—I will not say, for I cannot truthfully say so—neglected [to write] for a whole year, but having sent letters in vain, since they have returned to my own hands. Now, therefore, I send them all to you at once, not only because I am wordy in discharging them like the remainder of an outstanding debt, but also because I wish to offer something besides. ^C And yet, I swear by your patron and mine of our friendship, I went down to the sea for this very reason, and dealt with the Phycuntian rowers, leaving the equestrian journey, so that I might send to you in part my letters, and in part... but it is not necessary to make a list of the things sent, so that Pylæmenes might receive them; for those exposed at Alexandria on account of the most unfortunate voyage. And as far as you are concerned—although among the friends I have there, Pylæmenes is the dearest to me—yet, I swear by your noble affection, I would have borne it less painfully than for the sake of many others, ^D especially the most illustrious men, Proclus and Tryphon, of whom alone—as those who greet me—you made mention. Wherefore, to your noble heart I have sent ten gold coins; and to my comrade Proclus, according to the divine 61 Hesiod, I have repaid more than a third part of what he had spent for me. For the matter stands thus: when I was abroad, I found it necessary to receive from him sixty gold pieces for my expenses; for which he had written seventy. I have sent eighty; and they would have been much more numerous, had the first letters reached you, and the ship with those goods at that time. But now, having used some chance, I went to Alexandria; and I thought the vessel would moor at your harbors, but unnoticed, it was driven by contrary winds from Crete, and with difficulty escaped into the Egyptian sea. Or what would prevent you, just as you keep hens, from keeping ostriches on land? It is fair that the note be returned to my own [friends] by the most admirable Father Proclus, who has received the eighty gold pieces; and attend to your comrade Troilus. 62

and that it is fair that they be returned to me by the most illustrious Father Proclus, once he has received those eighty gold pieces. Take care also that my associate Troilus sends to me as quickly as possible the books which you had returned to him; I mean the Nicostratean [books], and those of Alexander of Aphrodisias. If through your sacred and excellent affection of mind those who are to be governors of our province ^B might be reconciled to us, you will have contributed to our philosophy as much as in you lies, in so far as Plato deems it hindered by ignominy and contempt.

EPISTLE CXXIX

When you greeted us through Cerealis, you granted him this favor, that his wickedness was hidden for five days. For the cities had hoped for some good thing from a man whom Simplicius did not disdain to know. But he very quickly brought shame, not upon you (for far be it that your affairs should be dependent upon another), but rather upon himself and his own magistracy; and, not to be long-winded, upon the Roman Republic; a man venal for a trifling price; a despiser of fame and reputation; unskilled in military affairs; and in peace, a nuisance, which he possessed for a very short time. For he did not need a long time to overturn and throw everything into confusion. For just as if the lot of soldiers belonged by some law to the leader, he took what each one possessed, and in turn ^C bestowed upon them exemption and immunity by maintaining order; making it possible for all to betake themselves to where they might hope to feed themselves. Having done this with the natives, since he could not extract silver from foreigners, he extracted it from their cities, leading his forces thither, and migrating, not where there was greater opportunity, but where there was hope of richer profit. For since the cities were oppressed by his sojourn, they contributed gold. The Macetae quickly sensed this; and soon the fame of this matter was propagated from the semi-barbarians to the barbarians.

Then they came, as many as are the leaves and flowers that appear in spring. ^D Woe for our youth, which we have lost! Woe for the fruits Which we hoped for in vain! We have sown our fields with enemy fire. To most of us our wealth was in herds, in droves of camels, In grazing mares; everything has perished; everything has been driven away. I feel that I am not in control of myself for grief. But forgive me, I pray. For I am hemmed in by walls; and I write While besieged, often watching the beacons by the hour, And lighting them myself, and raising them as a sign to others. Those distant hunts, moreover, which formerly we enjoyed in security Chiefly by your kindness, have passed away entirely. Therefore we groan again and again, when we remember that youth, And that mind and prudence. But now [it is all] clatter of horses...

and the enemy now holds the countryside. As for me, stationed between the towers, I fight off sleep.

On a spear is my kneaded bread, on a spear the Ismaric wine; I drink, reclining on a spear.

I know not if it were more fitting for Archilochus to use these words. May the wicked Cerealis perish badly, if he has not already perished before the curse; for it was surely fittng that he should have been the work of the recent storm. For as soon as he saw into what dangers he had plunged the province, he completely lost faith in the land, and having loaded all his gold onto swift-sailing barks, he was tossed about on the open sea at anchor. And his letters are brought by a small boat; these, indeed, order us to do what we are doing: to remain within the walls, for no one to leap beyond the trenches, nor to join battle with men who are unconquerable; and he calls gods and men to witness ^B that he will be free from all blame. He also instructs us to set four watches at night, as if all our hope lay in lack of sleep. For he seems to be an expert in such matters, insofar as he is a man accustomed to misfortune. And yet, he did not even wish to share in our calamities. For the commander does not stand at the bulwark, as I, Synesius the philosopher, do, but rather by the oar. Therefore, if you desire the poems which you asked for, even though we recognize in them nothing worthy of praise except the theme, pray with the Cyrenaeans that we may be allowed to breathe from arms. For as our affairs stand now, to be pulling books from cases is entirely out of the question.

LETTER CXXX. To Pylaemenes.

Consider the definitions of geometry to be the most truthful, since even the other sciences boast as often as they have gleaned even a little something for their own proofs from geometry. There is, I suppose, a certain principle among them which maintains that ^C things that are equal to the same thing ought to be equal to each other. Now, since both my disposition and my character have reconciled me to you, and since your nature has done the same for the admirable Diogenes—and because you are both friends of the same man—it is necessary, surely, that you be bound to one another, just as you are connected with me as the middle point. Consequently, I join you both to one another by means of this letter, with which the admirable Diogenes will entrust himself to the magnificence of your friendship; and in turn, I am confident he will receive my Pylaemenes. And when I call him "my own," I would boldly say that I do not thereby shame him, nor do I bring shame upon myself. But if I should doubt that through you he will have the others who love me as friends, and useful ones at that, as far as their ability permits, I would be unjust; and he requires useful ^D friends, if anyone ever did. For his situation—to explain it as briefly as possible—is this: he is a young man, simple and generous, high-spirited and gentle, of the kind that Plato wishes to be the guardians of his own republic. Furthermore, he served as a soldier while still a mere boy. But recently, after starting his military command among us, he was exposed to envious witnesses. For such are citizens towards everything that prospers; but he showed himself to be superior even to envy (66).

has passed since his youth, and he commanded forces among us, undergoing perils under unjust witnesses. For such is the way of citizens toward all who are successful. But he proved himself superior to all envy; of which someone else might say more. But we both seem to be affected in the same way, I in proclaiming his praises, he in listening to them. But to say it in one word, he overcame the enemies of the fatherland with arms, and he overcame those within it who were corrupt with virtue. Having attained power in his adult years, he committed nothing unworthy of his philosophical association. And being of this kind, he is entangled in very difficult affairs, mostly because he is upright and honest. For as any man is candid and well-behaved, so is he 267 reckoned as profit by the malignant and corrupt: and from another quarter, a huge income and gain arises for the wicked. Therefore, a certain informer, wishing to extort payment from him, when he achieves nothing, brings a lawsuit against him; but when by this method he could seize nothing of another's property, since laws and justice were on our side, he turns elsewhere, and changes the lawsuit into an accusation, bringing against the defendant a charge older than himself. Therefore he presents himself before the suretyship. For a desperate calumniator should in no way be believed; nor should paternal and ancestral goods be lost with shameful disgrace. For this, he has need of sincere, completely unfeigned, and prudent friends, of the kind that you are; he shall have, indeed (may it be said with God’s approval), you first through my assistance, and your friends, as well as mine, through yours: to all of whom, whatever benefit anyone contributes to him, it is right for me to acknowledge myself a debtor of gratitude for this.

EPISODE CXXXI: To my Brother

Women indeed crying out, and beating their breasts, and tearing their hair at the sight or report of enemies, can be seen as more tolerable: even though Plato ^C (67) believes that not even this is tolerable, because they are unwilling, like hens guarding their chicks, to stand against any of the strongest opponents on behalf of their children; but they cast the worst reputation upon the human race, that it has become the most cowardly of all beasts. But that you should commit the same things as them, and be agitated by the intemperance and terrors of the night, and bolt up, and keep crying out that a barbarian stands at the very gate of the fortress (for such were the things reported to me about you), can this even be endured, when it seems utterly absurd that he who is my brother should be fearful? Yet I, at the very first light of dawn, riding as far away as possible, inquire with ears and eyes about these cattle-rustlers, as much as I can. For I would not call them enemies, but robbers and highwaymen, or if there is any other more abject name, who do not withstand anyone attacking them bravely, but slaughter only the timid and terrified, ^D like sheep, and strip them. But at night

DIONYSII PETAVII NOTES

I approve of the conjecture of Erasmus, who writes "invidiam" [envy] instead of "gloriam" [glory]. For glory is usually envied, [but] virtue is loved. He is therefore happy who surpasses glory with virtue; for thus he earns more love than envy. (67) *De leg. Lib. VII*: There is much corruption in a state, that women are so shamefully reared, that they are not even willing, like birds fighting for their children, to die and undergo all dangers against any of the strongest beasts—but as soon as they are threatened, they immediately flee to all altars and temples, and bring the charge against the human race that it is by nature the most cowardly animal. *Seneca, De remed. fortuit.*: We are feeble by nature. Do not defame nature. She has begotten us strong.

and with the company of the young men I go the round of the hill, and grant the women the assurance of sleep, while they know that some are watching before them. There are also present with me some soldiers of the Balagrite regiment. These, before Cerialis took command, were horse-archers; but after he attained to the command, their horses being sold away from them, they became archers only; to me, however, they are sufficient even without horses. But we have need of archery for the sake of the wells and the river; for we have no water within the enclosure. Otherwise, what could prevent us from enduring the siege while indulging in pipes and revelry? Now, however, we must either conquer by fighting, or die by falling into the hands of the enemy, rather than die of thirst. What could be more piteous than that? So even if by necessity, we must show ourselves good men. And do you also be zealous, and exhort others, and command that the pair of voracious horses which are kept for the tribute be brought to you. In such times as these, a horse is by no means an useless possession. For to dash ahead, and to reconnoiter, and to report in the shortest time, all these things a horse can easily do. And if you have need of archers, send for them, and they will come. For I do not trust the Phycuntian rowers as allies, any more than I do the gardeners I have with me. But I am looking for a few men who do not belie their manhood. And if I meet with such, having God as my companion, I am confident. But when it comes to dying, there is the benefit of philosophy, to consider it no terrible thing to depart from this little bag of flesh. But whether I shall be unyielding toward my wife and child, this I cannot strongly guarantee. As I would that philosophy could avail so much. But may I never have to put it to the test, may I not, O Savior, may I not, O Liberator! ^B

LETTER CXXXII. Olympio.

Yesterday and the day before, during the recent consulships, one of whom—the other, I mean—is Aristænetus; for I do not know his colleague; I received a sealed letter, inscribed with the name of your sacred head. I conjecture that it is very ancient, both from its being worm-eaten, and from the fact that most of the letters are blurred. I, however, requested that you should not send a letter to me like some annual tribute; nor that, ^C just to one very dear friend, Synesius ...

DION. PETAVIJ NOTAE.

(67*) "Yesterday and the day before." It signifies the consuls of the previous year, which was 404 of Christ. The colleague, however, was Aristænetus, [colleague] of the emperor Honorius. It seems a marvel that this could be unknown to Synesius. The reason for which we gave in the previous edition: that the consular honor, appearing in the principal rank, was obscured, as a star by the light of the sun. Hence, though Synesius knew the emperor, he was ignorant of the consul in the West. This conjecture of ours our friend Nicolaus Alemannus, while he lived, attempted to refute in his Commentaries on Procopius, [arguing] that the games, ^D the hunts, and the largesses, customarily given by Honorius at the very beginning of the consulship, and the public records signed in his name, would have made the consul known. Therefore he thinks the name of the other consul was unknown to Synesius because one consul was proclaimed at Rome, the other at Byzantium. But the Eastern consul, he thinks, Synesius could easily and immediately know; but the Western consul neither easily nor immediately. Therefore, he says, the public records of the consul whose name was hidden were mentioned in this way, *and of the one who will be disclosed*. So he says. But these things, while true, do not pertain in any way to this passage of Synesius; on the contrary, he overturns his own argument. For he wrote this letter in the year following those consuls, as he sufficiently shows when he calls them "the recent consuls." Hence, so that we may return our own reasoning to him: Who, I ask, could Synesius not know the name of a consul a year later, if it were necessary for it to have been known from the games and public records? But Honorius did not put on games in the East or Egypt in the name of the consul; nor did Synesius have those records at hand at that time. And so our conjecture is much more probable than that of our friend.

^A that you might send the letter, and not make the very dear Syrus your only bearer. For it so happens that [the letters] do not arrive fresh to me, but consumed by age. Therefore, do as you see me doing. No imperial courier leaves the city changing the public horse, who does not have some part of a shoulder-pack that is being sent for your instruction. Wherefore, if they deliver them faithfully to you, whether all of them or some of them, may many good things befall those who deliver them, for they are good men. But if not, in this respect you are wiser, in that you do not put faith in those in whom it is not proper to have it. But that we may not weary the scribe and ourselves in vain when we dictate letters that will by no means reach you, I desire to be informed. For we shall change our intention henceforth, and I shall entrust them to Peter alone. I believe that these letters will be carried by Peter, which he will have received from the sacred hand. For I send these from Pentapolis to our common mistress. She will give them to whomever she pleases; and she will please, I well know, to provide them to the most knowledgeable [person]. For we do not even know, O dearest and most excellent man, if we shall again have the opportunity to greet one another. For due to the cowardice of the commanders, the country has fallen without a fight to the enemy, and we alone survive who have fled to fortified places, while all those who were caught in the plains have been slaughtered like ^B cattle [lit. slaughter-animals]. We fear, however, their lingering presence, lest becoming prolonged, [the siege] of thirst might force many of the forts to surrender. For this reason, I did not reply to those accusations (68) regarding the gifts. For I had no leisure, being occupied with a certain mechanical device. For I am busy constructing how we might from the towers hurl, as far as possible, [catapult] significant weights of stone. At the same time, I also give you the power to send me gifts. For it is necessary for Synesius to yield to Olympius; yet not for luxury gifts. For even then I complained of the luxury (69) of the provisions of the mess; but let them be military [gifts], bows and arrows, provided the arrows have their iron heads intact. For bows I could purchase elsewhere, and repair those I already have; but arrows are not easy to procure, ^C such that they are also suitable. For those Egyptian ones, protruding at the joints, are compressed at the internode. For this reason they are faulty in themselves. For they are like those who are hindered and stumble immediately from the starting gates. But yours are long and rounded in the shape of a single cylinder; which contributes uniquely to the straightness of their flight. These you shall send me; and also good horse-bridles for use; for I would have seen with great pleasure that Italian horse, which you praised with that fine tongue of yours; since even the father of good colts (70) our ^D [own]... nevertheless, somewhere down the letter, after the signature, I found that it was necessary for the horse to remain...

at Seleucia, because the shipmaster declined such cargo due to the season. But since I recognized neither the wording as being like yours, nor the handwriting, nor the precision of the script, I deemed it right that you should not be unaware of this. For it is absurd that such a horse should be lost either to me or to you. ^B

EPIS TLE CXXXIII. To Pylæmenes.

I received your letter, in which you again blame Fortune for having provided nothing more kindly toward you. Not so, most dear of companions. For it is not fitting to accuse her, but to be comforted. Though you be such as you are, it is possible for you to come to us; you will find a brother’s house. We are not wealthy, my good sir, but what is present suffices for Pylæmenes and for me. And if you also are present, perhaps we shall even be wealthier. From the same resources, others have attained wealth beyond what is moderate, but I am a poor steward. ^C Nevertheless, thus far, even against the greatest neglect, the inheritance lasts, which can sustain a philosopher. Do not consider this something to be despised, if care and diligence are added. Behave in these matters in this way, and not otherwise; unless by chance something better has befallen you in the meantime, and you again intend to restore the Heraclea that lies in ruins. I have not written to those to whom I am accustomed, on account of the time; but recently I wrote to all, having given a packet of letters to Diogenes. Diogenes is my cousin. If, therefore, he chanced upon you while searching—for he searched, I know—he has already delivered the packet. For it was not inscribed. If not, ask the shipmaster to point out the young man to you, and when you have received the letters from him, I desire that you yourself distribute them to everyone. ^D There are some whom I desire most earnestly to be greeted in my name: my father Proclus; Trypho, who has been in charge of our province; Simplicius, no less a man than he was an excellent magistrate, and my friend; to whom, after you have presented the letter, use the man as long as you have the opportunity of his presence. For it is a splendid thing to associate with a soldier who is a student of poetry. We had large ostriches from the hunts we carried out in time of peace. But it was not possible to send them to the sea, through the weapons of the enemy, nor was it permitted to put anything else on the ships that was on the shore. Therefore, we loaded them only with wine. But of oil, by your most precious head, they did not bring even a cyathus, as far as I have been able to discover. Receive, therefore, the same number of sextaria of wine. You will receive them, indeed, after you have delivered the mandate that is written to Julius, which is attached to the letter, so that it may not be overlooked.

it be sent; but for the present this was not possible. We shall send them on another ship, when we send you the ostriches along with them, and the oil privately.

LETTER CXXXIV. To a brother.

Pœmenius, the bearer of this letter to you, was sent to us by Artabazacus, who held the principate a short time ago, to oversee all the property he possessed in these parts. In the performance of that duty, however, he showed himself very humane and accessible. Yet who else would have taken advantage of such an opportunity? But the power of Pœmenius was grievous and burdensome to no Libyan. A no light proof of this is that he departs to the great sorrow of all the cities. Do you, therefore, treat the man in a friendly manner, and, as is fitting, praise him for the sake of his probity.

LETTER CXXXV. Eidem.

May I reap from Athens as much fruit as you wish—so much so that I seem to myself to have become wiser by a palm and a finger. It is permitted to me, however, to provide you with a trial of that divine wisdom from here. For, in truth, I write to you from Anagyrus; and I have visited Sphettus, and Thrium, and Cephesia, and Phalerum. To the devil with that miserable shipmaster who brought me here; for Athens now has nothing splendid, except the very famous names of the places. And just as, when a sacrifice has been consumed, only the skin remains—a sign of the animal that once was—so, philosophy having been moved from there, it remains only to wander about and admire the Academy and the Lyceum, and, by Zeus, that painted porch from which the sect of Chrysippus took its name, which is now not painted at all. For the proconsul removed the panels upon which ^D Polygnotus of Thasos had bestowed all his art. Now, therefore, in our own age, Egypt feeds those who have received the seeds of wisdom from Hypatia; but Athens, which was once the city of the wise, is now celebrated by honey-makers. To these, add that pair of wise men of Plutarch’s school, who do not gather the young men in the theaters by the fame of their speeches, but by jars of honey from Hymettus.

DION, PETAVII NOTÆ.

...the need to apologize is proved by the fact that it was not necessary for Synesius to speak of selphium, [since] even the Cyrenian product is not bad, whereas without doubt the most excellent of all grew in the same place. But the part concerning the crocus was ambiguous... The fault is manifest in these points, since he seems to prefer the Sicilian crocus of Centuripa to others, yet the herbalists mention the Centuripean crocus in Sicily specifically, as if it excelled the others. Thus, therefore, I rewrite...

EPISTLE CXXXVI. To Herculianus.

If Homer said that the gain from the wanderings of Ulysses was to see the cities of many men and to know their mind—and this even though his landings were not among refined men, but among Laestrygonians and Cyclopes—how wondrously, then, would poetry have celebrated both your journey and mine, which granted us the trial of seeing things that were disbelieved even by report! For we have been eyewitnesses and auditors of the genuine mistress of the rites of philosophy. But if human needs bind together those who have shared a relationship, divine law requires those of us who have become kin according to the mind—the best part of our being—to honor one another. ^B I, for my part, having been separated from your physical presence, seem to behold you even while absent, with memory bringing forth the form and image expressed by my affection, and the wondrously sweet voice of your sacred discourses still rings in my ears. But as for you, if you are not thus affected, you do me an injury; and if you are affected, you do nothing great; for you are repaying the debt of love. But when I look toward that communion in philosophical studies, and toward that philosophy itself upon which we have spent so much time and effort—when I have arrived at that point in my reasoning—I am accustomed to attribute this encounter of ours to God, its guide and ruler. For it is not by any lesser cause than a divine one, working and destining it, that I—Synesius, who am least accustomed to publish such things to the crowd, and who, although I live familiarly with many, yet enter into that familiarity for the sake of some human communion, while holding philosophy to be most secret among secret things—have so easily revealed myself, and all that is mine, to a man with whom I had only briefly exchanged words. ^C But since such a person has been found, before whom I could bring forward things unheard of, and I have forgotten the clever artifice of Proteus—which was nothing else than to associate with men not in a divine, but in a civil manner—since this has happened, not because I had planned it in my mind, but because it occurred unexpectedly and without effort, I consider God to be the leader and author of the marvelous event; from Him we shall ask for a happy outcome of the things that have been begun through Him. And would that He might grant us to philosophize together! But if not that, at least to philosophize by all means. For I, indeed, having certain words in my soul on the subject that we were discussing, am in labor to pour them out into a letter; yet I shall not do so. For it would be better for these things to be discussed with you, according to God, in person, and with many others who know better. ^D It is not well for me to entrust such things to a letter. For the matter of the letter is not something to be kept silent; rather, by its nature, it allows itself to be discussed with whoever happens upon it. Fare well, and philosophize, and continue to unearth the eye that is buried within us. For to live rightly, since it is, as I believe, the prelude to wisdom, has been shown by the ancients and wise men to be well worth striving for.

to discuss these matters, and with others who might know these things better. To me, however, it does not seem at all advisable to entrust such great matters to a letter. For this whole business of letters is by no means tenacious of silence, but is so constituted that it converses with anyone. Farewell, and apply yourself to philosophy, and with constant study extract the eye buried within us. For that we should rightly institute our life, I think, is to be cared for above all else, just as the ancients and wise men taught that it is the beginning of wisdom. For the divine voice testifies that it is not lawful for anyone who is impure to touch what is pure. But the many do not hold that living rightly is to be referred to wisdom, but rather that it consists in and of itself, and contains the perfection of human life; that is, they establish it not as a road, but as that to which one must tend by means of the road, and they think wrongly about these matters. For a certain temperance devoid of reason, and abstinence from the use of meat, are implanted by nature in many who are altogether lacking in reason. But we do not praise the crow, nor any other of those creatures that have attained this natural virtue, because they are devoid of prudence. But the life according to the mind is the end of man. ^A Let us pursue this; and while asking from God to think divine thoughts, let us ourselves, by every means we can, collect wisdom from every side. ^B For ^A the divine voice says that it is not lawful for anyone who is impure to touch what is pure. But the many do not hold that living rightly is to be referred to wisdom, but rather that it consists in and of itself, and contains the perfection of human life; that is, they establish it not as a road, but as that to which one must tend by means of the road, and they think wrongly about these matters. For a certain temperance devoid of reason, and abstinence from the use of meat, are implanted by nature in many who are altogether lacking in reason. But we do not praise the crow, nor any other of those creatures that have attained this natural virtue, because they are devoid of prudence. But the life according to the mind is the end of man. Let us pursue this; and while asking from God to think divine thoughts, let us ourselves, by every means we can, collect wisdom from every side. For, it says, it is not lawful for the pure to be touched by the impure.

Letter CXXXVII.

^B I once heard a certain eloquent and copious man speaking, who was commending the use and utility of letters; and that sophist had made this very thing the subject of many wonderful discourses. He drew the commendation of this thing from many other heads, but especially from this one: that he said a letter could be a solace for unhappy loves, as it provides, during the absence of bodies, a certain phantasm of presence, and by seeming to converse, fills the desire of the soul. He praised, therefore, the inventor of letters for these reasons; and he thought that this gift had not proceeded from any man, but had been derived from God to men. I, therefore, enjoy that divine benefit, and although I cannot converse with him with whom I ought to converse, since I can write, I do this quite often; and, so far as it is possible for me, I associate with him, and enjoy my delights. ^C But you, unless it be a bitter thing to say, have separated your mind along with your place. But if you do not cease to abstract yourself from those who have loved you most sincerely and without guile, you imitate the swallows, which, as it were, settle in among men with friendships and with voice and clamor; but they depart in silence. And this, as it still pertains to a man, is a human complaint. But if you have united through philosophy the things that are here divided, and if the good is for friends, and the good is the same thing—and you have heard that this is one thing of the mind currently speaking—no longer do we judge your silence toward us as pride, but we congratulate you for philosophizing, and for refusing to linger on base things; hence, ^D such a one you are, O best of men, and truly a brother most longed for by me.

DION. PETAVIUS' NOTES

That a good thing is a friend, and that which is not good is not a friend; this saying of the immortals came to the lips of men.

^A EPISTLE CXXXVIII. To the Same.

If there is such a sharp sting of persuasion in your letters, if the images of soul and character so expressed, and the affections so alive and breathing, and the graces, cast such charms upon the readers, it would surely be a very difficult thing to enjoy them face to face and in one's presence. I confess, indeed, that previously the most sweet Siren of your discourse held me in her presence. Nevertheless, I shall not fear to declare truly that the latter experience will be much more pleasant to me. For he who has once had the trial does not perceive the sense of a present good in the same way as an absent one. For in the former, the continuity of enjoyment steals away the sense of pleasure; but the latter, having been separated by degrees from the things that are pleasant, is immediately stimulated and pricked by that very memory, which reveals of what goods he is being deprived. Would that you might come to us, most friendly head, and that we might celebrate mutual meetings and conversations about philosophy, building upon those things which have already been begun, so that from the perfect may arise not a maimed, but a perfect and absolute beauty! But if, which it is right to pray against, we are deprived of mutual companionship, there is no doubt that the entire detriment falls upon me. For to you, if the discipline should wither away there through the multitude of men, there will be [available] a store of many who are both Synesius’ betters and his equals with whom you may associate. But to me, my country, in so far as it is my country, is far most dear. Yet I do not know by what means it has grown callous toward philosophy. Wherefore it is by no means safe to remain without the help of someone, if there be not one who might rave with the same rites, as it were, of the Corybantes. And granting that there are some, ^C how could I possibly be forgetful of divine Odysseus? To what other fire-starter could I be rubbed so as to bring forth the shining and splendid offspring of the mind, once I have departed from your sacred soul? Who could so vehemently coax out with all manner of devices, and kindle, and cause to shine forth a bright fire, a spark so hidden and fond of lurking in the shadows? Therefore may God be present to both of us, whether absent or together; and with God present, everything that is impassable becomes passable. Farewell, and philosophize, and raise the divine within you to that first-born and most ancient divine. It is good for that to be said by me in all my letters to your honorable disposition, which they say Plotinus used to say to those who were present, when he was calling his soul away from the body.

^D EPISTLE CXXXIX. To the Same.

In the class of loves that are stirred up from lowly and human causes, they are hateful and short-lived, which presence alone can—and then only with difficulty—sustain. But those whom a presiding Deity moderates and guides, according to the divine oracle of Plato, fusing them by a wonderful art and making those who love one another one out of two: loves of this kind prove the nature of time and place to be weak. For nothing can stand in the way of souls burning with desire for one another to prevent them from [joining] in certain secret...

^A meetings, even when the soul itself is shut out by the body and is not allowed to be present. Why, then, do you lament and stain your letters with tears? If you do this out of pity for us, because we—while appearing and claiming to be philosophers—do not yet act like them, I understand the truth behind your lament. But if you complain because unkind fate has injured our companionship (for that is the real intent of your letters), it is truly womanish and childish to cherish those things that the spirit of disorder can thwart and ruin for those who choose them. For myself, I have always wished for that sacred head, Herculianus, to look upward and to be entirely fixed upon the contemplation of things that are, and to have passed beyond the virtues of mortal rule, and those that have long since been turned away from, yet which adorn things here below. And as befits such a person, the salutation of my letter is this: "Think much," not "be well" or "prosper," which is more moderate. For a lower mind presides over our actions, which I was very far from desiring should be buried and quenched in you. On this matter I have discoursed at length in the two previous letters, neither of which those to whom I gave them delivered to you. Therefore, I am sending this fifth letter to you; and I pray that it may not also be in vain! It will not have been in vain, first, if it is delivered. Then, what is much more serious and of greater importance, if it dispatches you instructed and taught by its admonitions, and persuades you to transfer the strength of the body to the fortitude of the soul—not that which is counted within the first and innermost quaternity of virtues, but rather that which corresponds in a certain proportion in the third and fourth. You will have reached this point only when you admire nothing in human affairs. If you do not yet understand that division of which I have just spoken—namely, which are the more ancient and primary virtues and which are situated in the lower order—when you have attained it, you will mourn for nothing; but you will deservedly despise all lower and human things. Let this be your rule, and as it were a Lydian stone, by which you may know that you have reached the primary things: that this phrase of mine, "Think much," may return to me in your letters. Pass your life safe and sound, with a joy of soul that is stirred by no waves, thanks to the conciliation of philosophy, ^B my lord most dear to me. If philosophy has nothing closer or more ancient than the vacuum of all movements, and if the middle states consist in the moderation of movements, in what place shall we put the emotion of the soul that is stirred by infinite disturbances, and which can so easily be cast down and contracted? Are we to banish it quite far from philosophy, of which we pray with all our vows that you be a priest? Far be this from you, I beseech you, oh most dear of all to me. Rather, show yourself a steadier and stronger friend to me. My whole family has begged me to greet you in their name. In the name of all, therefore, I bid you greeting; in which, I pray, may you [continue...].

iorem ac fortiorem amicum exhibe. Mea omnis familia uti suo nomine salutem tibi dicerem a me flagitavit. Omnium igitur nomine salutem tibi dico; in qua precanda DION. PETAVII NOTÆ.

EPISTLE CXL. To the same.

Do not be surprised that I have given two letters to one man to be delivered. First of all, however, know that you are paying the penalty for an untimely accusation, and are also being satisfied by my talkativeness; but in the second place, I wish the latter letter to accomplish another piece of business for me. I am asking for that little work written in iambic verse, in which the author addresses his own soul, since whereas at that time I trusted I could collect it from memory, now I fear that what might be substituted for it would be nothing by comparison with the other. But if I entrust the matter to writing, I shall use judgment rather than memory, and perhaps, indeed, it might be worse, or perhaps better. Yet there is no reason why I should bring forth the same offspring twice, especially since it is possible for a copy of what has already been published to exist. Send me, therefore, a copy of the quaternion, I ask it for the sake of the soul itself, which this little book seeks to adorn; and do this as speedily and as safely as possible. This will happen if you send it through those who will certainly deliver it: for if you fail in either respect, you will not accomplish it at all; whether you send it too late—for it will not reach me while I am present—or if you give it to one who in any case will not deliver it.

EPISTLE CXLI. To the same.

I recognized Ulysses from your letter, being brought back to the memory of the hero by many things; but I did not recognize Proteus. For that you are such a one, and that you approach the demigods, is by no means inconsistent. As for me, I am perhaps not unskilled in other matters, but, according to the Delphic maxim, knowing myself, I condemn the nature of my own indigence and poverty, and I renounce all kinship with heroes; except that I wished to imitate their silence, which you yourself, however, have disturbed for me after the manner of the Spartan Menelaus; and thus you seem to belong not to Ulysses alone, but to that pair of heroes. But enough of this. Since, however, you say that you are by no means fit for writing, you undeservedly demand from me a quantity of letters which would cause you trouble. For that reason, I have contracted the length of my letter, lest by reading more you incur more labor. May you remain safe and cheerful, applying the philosophy that leads you to divine things, you who are to be embraced especially as a friend. Greet the excellent companion, whom we would not permit ourselves to greet in our own person. For this is brought from the poem:

Begin; for you are younger by birth; To lead in war and sedition is said to be the task of the younger; But to the duties of humanity, that of the senior.

DION. PETAVII NOTÆ. We have added the [missing] portion, which the sense demanded, as the following words declare. For he warns that one must take care neither to send it too late, nor to send it through one who is not at all [reliable]. He had written to Synesius as Herculianus, and had compared Synesius to Proteus, and himself to Ulysses. He understands [the term] "the wonderful comet." See the work *On the Gift*.

permittere noluimus. Hoc enim ex poesi ductum, *Incipe: natu etenim tu junior;* ad bellum quidem, ac seditionem praeire junioris esse dicit; ad humanitatis autem officia, senioris.

^A That man is indeed precious to me and worthy of all honor, who was the first to bring together, after they had been long separated by great barriers, both learning and military service, discovering an ancient kinship between those two pursuits. Being possessed of such greatness of soul as no military man has ever before possessed, he avoids the arrogance that borders on magnificence. Such a man, therefore, even if I do not write to him, I love; and even if I do not wait upon him, I honor him.

EPISTOLA CXLII. To the Same.

You do not, my dear friend, keep the faith you pledged to me—that you would never communicate to anyone the things that were meant to be kept secret. For I have heard from several who have come from you, that they were repeating certain words and asking that their meaning be explained to them by me. But I, in my usual fashion, neither acknowledged these as my own writings, nor even said that I recognized them. There is no longer, therefore, need for our admonition, my dear friend, for it is too small a matter to persuade you; but rather, seek out the letter of Lysis the Pythagorean to Hipparchus, and if you should chance upon it, do me the favor of reading it over often. Perhaps it might move you to a deep repentance for what you have so unworthily disclosed. For to philosophize in public (as Lysis says, speaking in the Doric dialect) has brought a great contempt for divine ^B things among the human race. For I remember that I have conversed, not only in the past but even recently, with men who, because they had rashly heard a few loftier phrases, could not believe themselves to be what they actually were—common and unlettered folk. And, swollen with pride, they corrupted divine dogmas, usurping the title of master of that subject, the rudiments of which they had never even mastered. And yet these same men had gathered round them three or four listeners who, so far as their souls were concerned, differed in no way from common laborers; nor had any of them ever been schooled in the liberal arts. For a vain persuasion of one's own wisdom is a marvelous and deceitful thing, which refuses nothing among the ignorant and undertakes everything without consideration. For what can be more bold than ignorance? Falling in with this class of arrogant men—like so many drones who neither know the doctrines nor desire to know them—I have grown to hate the breed, and I find no other cause for their upbringing than the fact that, ineptly and before the proper time, they were perhaps admitted by their own kind to hear extremely profound matters. For these reasons, I am a more diligent guardian of the mysteries ^C of philosophy, and I ask again and again that you strive to be one as well. For I know full well that these things are appropriate for Herculianus. But you, if you have truly come to philosophy, ought to avoid the company of those who are alien to it and who, by their false usurpation, corrupt the supreme dignity of philosophy by adulterating it. I adjure you by God, the guardian of friendship, not to show this letter to them. For if you do, the characters of their wickedness will cause pain to those who recognize the symbols of what I have said, either in themselves or in the friends of those men.

^D DION. PETAVII NOTES.

(80) *polyte-lon (80) akroaseon.* Perhaps *olonton* (meaning 'lost' or 'destroyed', or here 'the unlearned').

For if you do this, those who have discovered the indications mentioned by me, either among themselves or their friends, will be afflicted with grief. But while to cause pain is sometimes the act of a manly spirit, and consistent with the habits of philosophy, when it is done in person and in the presence of those concerned, yet to write about such matters seems narrow and sordid. But what Synesius has debated with himself, he debates with your own honorable person, as his only friend, or at most one of two friends; for, outside of your trio, there is nothing human that I hold in high esteem. And by adding myself, I perhaps complete a quaternion of sacred friendship. But let the nature of the quaternion, which shares the name of the principles of all things in the beginning, be praised. In the quaternion of iambics ^A I found at the end the twelve verses written together, as if they were a single epigram. Since, therefore, it is likely that you possess them, know that they are neither one thing, nor from one source; but the first eight, written with poetic skill mixed with astronomical knowledge, belong to your friend; the last four are merely of a playful poetry. And it is an ancient thing. I consider it more impious to steal the lucubrations of the dead than their garments, which is called grave-robbing. ^B Live on in health, piously and cautiously pursuing philosophy. I agree to wait for you for twenty full days of Mesori, after which, God willing, I shall set out on my journey. Convey my warmest greetings to our excellent companion; for I love him, because he loves you very much.

LETTER CXLIII

Phoebamon, who delivers this letter to you, is a good man, and a friend, and is suffering an injustice. For all these reasons it is just that he be assisted by you, whether for our sake, or because of his own character, or because of his plight. ^D I wish this to be done by you in this way: for he seems to have placed the greatest confidence in our friendship; since when he wished to obtain something from you, he took refuge with me, confident that through me he would secure your favor. And I promised him Herculianus, through Synesius; but as for victory over those who are troubling him, through Herculianus, that dear and religious person. Regarding the count, you had written through Ursicinus; I understand this to be the one who obtained the command of the soldiers in the homeland: and you were asking from us a warrant, as it were, for the affair to be accomplished; namely, letters from your friends who could do this, both to him and to the ordinary magistrate. I indeed approved the intention even then, but I declined the task itself as superfluous, keeping myself free for philosophy. But now, since friends, both civilians and soldiers, are being wronged, they compel me to wish—

[index: entries preserved]

I have known to be averse to the assumption of civil power; and they themselves are aware of this. But they are forced by their own circumstances to do something even against their will. Now, therefore, if it seems good to you that I should do this, I grant it. Please tell the holy companion, the deacon, that he should gird himself against the opposing equestrian. My whole household greets you, now that Ision has joined it, whom you wanted from the acts—he who gave me cause for the base and unphilosophical request for letters to the magistrates, having interceded both in person for many things and through the files he brought. He, too, awaits you until the appointed twentieth day. ^A

EPISTLE CXLIV

To the same.

A certain servant of mine has run away, not one from my paternal household, nor one who was otherwise raised with me. For those who share in a liberal upbringing, and are treated with almost equal honor to me, love one who commands them by choice rather than fear him as a master by law. But Philoromus (for that is the name of this fugitive), who was a servant to the daughter of my cousin Amelius, became mine through her. Having been raised dissolutely and without discipline, he could not bear a philosophical and Laconian regime; and now, having found an Alexandrian as a master instead of me, he is wandering through Egypt with him. There is a certain Harpocration, one of the satellites of Heraclianus, of that rank which helps the helpers (for the word *Subadjuva* is believed to signify this). ^B Philoromus is with him. Now, as far as I am concerned, I would have told him to farewell. For how is it reasonable that the worse should have no need of the better, but that those who profess to be better should have need of the worse? But the mistress of that wretch cannot yet be brought to philosophize so far as to despise things that do not cling to us; and she struggled with all her might that I should send some people to bring him back from his flight. ^C My companion Aithales undertook this task, whom I sent off, trusting in God as my guide, and promising him human assistance from you. Let these letters, then, be put into your hands; as for the rest, once you have understood the whole matter, I leave it to God, to yourself, and to the care of Aithales. ^D

EPISTLE CXLV

To the same.

Since I have long desired to strengthen your holy soul by writing to you, that vehement habit of yours...

o God, to yourself, and to the care of Aithales. EPISTLE CXLV To the same. Since I have long desired to strengthen your holy soul by writing to you, that vehement habit of yours ^A of desiring our company has been shown up by our letters, which have long since been exposed to that flood of allurements. I myself have been softened by the overflowing abundance of the charms contained in your letters, and now I find myself such as I formerly rebuked you for being when you were in that state. Has the admirable Herculianus then been the cause of great blessings to me, having so attached my soul to himself and brought it down from the dignity of philosophy? For my part, I do not believe that the Sirens are defamed by the poets for any other reason than that they brought ruin with the honeyed sweetness of their voice, having enticed those who had placed their trust in them. Yet I remember hearing some wise man or other who explained the allegory of that fable in this way: he said that the Sirens signified those pleasures which we enjoy, which cause those who yield to them and are charmed by their blandishments to perish little by little. What, then, is to prevent the charms of your letters from being a kind of Siren, by which I, having laid aside that gravity and constancy, have become entirely Herculianus's man? God is my witness that I am not speaking of this matter, after the fashion of writing to someone else, so as to have some subject for a letter, but rather because of the letters which I received from Ursicinus—there were three of them, and the one that was of middle length instilled in me a certain living affection of soul, and I was so overcome by the flattery of the letters that I felt ashamed of myself. You ought to have sent a letter to brother Cyrus regarding that which you signified, on account of the Count of the Pentapolis. And while I gave thanks for the intention of the one who recommended me, you seem ^B to have forgotten how I have set out to philosophize, and that I consider of little value any honor that does not proceed from philosophy. Therefore, for the sake of God, I have no need of that recommendation. For I neither do an injustice to anyone, nor do I receive one. Wherefore, it was fitting that that favor should be bestowed upon him for our sake, but it is not at all appropriate for us to request it. For even if it were necessary for such letters to be requested, they should rather have been requested to be written to me; for in that way I would have been honored, rather than have a petition made on our behalf to another. May you live forever healthy and cheerful, pursuing philosophy with the utmost sincerity. The whole household together—God is my witness—children, old men, and women, salute you. Yet perhaps you, for your part, might also hate women who show kindness. See what you have done: you have caught me and kept me fast while I was on the road. Truly the Egyptians are sorcerers, and not all things attributed to Homer are false, since you yourself send letters from Egypt full of incantations. And the drug that brings forgetfulness of sorrow, ^C Thonis's wife Polydamna gave to Helen. But to you, who gave the one that causes sorrow, with which you besmeared the letter you sent me?

EPISTLE CXLVI

DIONYSIUS PETAVIUS'S NOTES

Ales, in wandering through meadows in the dark, and wallowing in earthly cares—rising above these while you were still here, you withdrew, and took hold of a blessed life; unless your friend Ganus, in reporting and narrating your affairs to us, imagines that it is necessary to tell some lies. For benevolence is wont, above all else, to hide the truth. This Ganus, therefore, attributes to you the monastic mode of life, and asserts that he has given you books, and as much of their sense as pertains to theology, as an occasion for going to the city; and he says that you are wearing a dark cloak. Yet it would have been nothing worse if it were white. For surely that which is pure among things sensible, and more light-like, would be more dedicated and consecrated to a most brilliant nature. But if you have chosen a dark color because you did it in imitation of others who have used it before you, I praise whatever is undertaken for the sake of God. For that which is the cause of an act grants accomplishment to the doer, and the intention contains the virtue. We, therefore, rejoice with you, who have suddenly attained that end toward which we have long and with difficulty been knocking at the door with toil. But you, join us in prayer that we too may one day attain it, and acquire some profit from the cares and vigils of philosophy, lest we have wasted our lives in books to no purpose. May you live in health and happiness, most excellent man.

EPISTOLA CXLVII. To Olympius.

I have left off the portion of tribute-paying, and the duty. For what was I to do, when none of the Greeks who inhabit Libya are willing to send merchant ships to our sea? And I release you, too, from all payment. For it is no concern of the Syrians to put in at the harbors of the Cyrenaeans. And even if this were to happen at some time, it would take place without my knowledge. For I am not near the sea, nor do I frequent the port; but I am situated in the furthest reaches of the Cyrenaeans toward the south wind. And our neighbors are such as Ulysses, holding the rudder in Ithaca, was seeking, when he was appeasing the wrath of Neptune according to the oracle's command, Mortals, who do not know the sea, Nor eat food seasoned with salt.

But do not imagine that I have said this rashly, as though we do not even use the sea's trade for salt; nor believe that on account of this we eat meat or cakes that are unsalted. For, I swear by holy Vesta, there is among us terrestrial salt, which is at a smaller distance from the south than the sea is from the north. This is called by us Ammonian salt. It is fed and covered by a friable stone; when you remove this, which lies upon it like a crust, the earth beneath can be plowed up to its depths with great ease, both with hands and with hoes. Furthermore, the salt that is dug out...

^A is, both by the sight of it and by the pleasure of tasting it, most delightful. But do not think it an act of sophisticated insolence that I should elaborate on the story of the local salt; for such an ambitious love of glory is very far from us country-dwellers. But since you demand to know from us everything about our affairs, bear with a loquacious letter, so that you may pay the penalty for your untimely curiosity. At the same time, it is also difficult to gain belief for things that are alien to each man's own experience. It is no small task, therefore, to convince a Syrian about land-salt. For even here I have trouble, being questioned about ships, and sails, and the sea. You know, for instance, how I, even when I was philosophizing with you at one time, contemplated that thing—the sea, that is—and saw ^B by the Pharos and by Canopus that great salt lake. And at that time, one ship was being pulled, and another was sailing with its canvas, while a third was being driven by oars. You laughed, therefore, when I compared it to a polypod animal. And these people are affected in their minds in the same way as we are when we hear about things beyond Thule—wherever Thule may be—which gives those who have crossed it the power to lie with impunity and without being refuted. But even if these people sometimes accept what is said about ships, or if they seem to laugh at that, they are most stubborn in refusing to believe that the sea can provide food for men. For they think that the mother earth alone must ^C be adjudged to have this distinction as its special and peculiar due. I, however, when they were once denying what is told about the fish, took hold of an earthenware vessel and, smashing it against a rock, showed them a quantity of salt-fish brought from Egypt. They claimed these were the bodies of evil serpents, and, terrified, they fled, fearing the spines, as if they were no less poisonous than the sting of teeth. And one of them, the oldest and the most sagacious in his opinions, said that he could scarcely be brought to believe that any good and edible thing could be produced thereabouts, within the water, ^D when, in the best and most potable of spring waters, nothing is born but frogs and leeches, which not even a madman would taste. And they are ignorant with good reason. For it is not the wave of the sea, surging at night, that wakes them, but the neighing of horses, and the bleating of a flock of goats, and the bleating of sheep, and the lowing of a bull. But as soon as the first ray shines forth, there is the buzzing of the bees, which yields in no way to musical harmony in terms of pleasure. Do you suppose that we seem to be describing to you the fables of Anchemachus, living as we do in such a field, far from the city, and from roads, and from trade, and from complex ways of life? For we have leisure to philosophize, and no leisure for doing evil. All our gatherings are social for everyone, as they help one another in agriculture, with flocks, with shepherds, and with the hunting of those things which the earth produces in abundance. For it is a sin, either for them or for us, or [even] for our horses, to obtain food without sweat. We breakfast on

^A polenta, which is most pleasing both to eat and to drink; such as Hecamede mixes for Nestor in Homer. After strenuous labor, this porridge is a remedy for the summer heat. We also have wheat-cakes, and edible tree-fruits, some cultivated and some wild, all of them local—juices of the best soil—and honeycombs, and goat’s milk. For we do not consider it acceptable to milk cows among us. Furthermore, the hunting done by dogs and horses provides ^B no less abundance for our tables—a pursuit which I know not why Homer did not call "man-ennobling," nor did he say that illustrious men are produced by it; yet he has honored the marketplace with such praise, even though it provides shameless, utterly wicked, and unwholesome little men, who are merely abusive and inventors of skillful mischief. At these we laugh whenever they happen to be in the same house with us. For they shiver when they see the wild meats prepared on our hearths. Why do I say wild meats? I would sooner taste poison than those things among us. They, however, seek out the thinnest wine, the thickest honey, the lightest oil, and the heaviest wheat, and they praise their own homelands—Cyprus, and some Hymettus or other, and Phoenicia, and the barbarian lands. But our land, even if it is surpassed in each single item by those who hold the highest peak of those fruits, yet it surpasses ^C every one of them in the remaining items. And this is the "second-place primacy," which Peleus and Themistocles obtained, and were proclaimed the best of all among the Greeks. Yet if we were to grant that our honey is indeed inferior to the Hymettian, it is still of such a quality that, when it is present, there is no need to crave a foreign flavor. Our oil, however, is clearly the best, unless those who have corrupted their diet are to be the judges. For they weigh it out, testing its excellence by its lightness, and they count its extreme thinness as a merit. As for us, we do not perform our weighings upon scales for that purpose, ^D but if we must, we consider it according to nature that the heavier in this kind is to be preferred. And certainly that famous, expensive oil, due to its weakness, cannot feed a flame in a lamp-wick. Yet what grows among us, because of its generosity, would kindle a funeral pyre, and as long as there is need for a lamp, it brings in a kind of artificial day. Furthermore, it is suitable for thickening kneaded dough, and likewise suitable for those who exercise their bodies, to soothe the sinews. But even our music is, if anything, traditional, and it is a certain small, pastoral, rustic, and unrefined lyre of the Anchemahetae, yet it is suited for a happy gathering, and is, above all, virile; a thing not undeservedly adapted for the training of children in Plato’s Republic, because...

making peace in the enumerations, and feasting us with a banquet of meats. Nor is the twin-bearing ewe held unworthy of the lyre, because she raises more offspring than the years; and we often strike the strings for the vine and the fig tree. And there is nothing so great as certain prayers, further as a song, and requests for good things for men, and for plants, and for cattle. These and such like things are seasonable among us, and ancient, and the goods of the poor. But the emperor, and the friends of the emperor, and the dance of fortune—such as we hear when we gather together—certain names like flames kindled to a great height ^A of glory and extinguished—these things are silently passed over here, and our ears have rest from such matters of hearing. For as to the emperor, that some one is always living, this perhaps they know clearly; for we are reminded of it every year by those who collect the taxes. But who this person is, this they do not know very clearly at all. But there are some among us who even until now think that Agamemnon, the son of Atreus, rules, he who went to Troy, the very good and noble one. For this name has been handed down to us from childhood as a royal one. And the honest herdsmen call a certain Odysseus his friend, a bald man, but clever in dealing with affairs, and in finding a path through difficulties. Indeed, they laugh when they speak about him, imagining that the Cyclops was blinded last year; and how the old man was dragged under ^B the ram; and how the villain watched at the door, thinking that the leader of the flock was not weighed down by a burden, but was bringing up the rear, suffering because of the misfortune of the animal itself. You have been for a little while in mind with us through this letter; you have beheld the field; you have seen the simplicity of living and acting. You would say that this kind of life is such as existed under Noah, before servitude grew into a punishment.

LETTER CXLVIII.

You are always present in our memory, even when absent. For not even if we wished most earnestly could we forget your most sweet soul and your most guileless character, ^C brother admirable in all things. Since nothing can be more sacred in us than the remembrance of you, unless perhaps that we might again embrace your venerable head; which may God one day grant, and that we may see you, and hear the sweetest sound of your words. We were gladdened also by the things which you sent, for we received everything. But you have given us more sorrow by the thought of what kind of living and breathing friend we are deprived. May the time finally come when we may enjoy mutual companionship! May such great happiness come to me by divine benefit!

LETTER CXLIX.

I do not think your Heraclea has been ^D unaware of the news about Alexander

of such a man, who has philosophized among us, a man who has traveled ^A everywhere with glory and reputation. Mute is the man who would not offer his voice to Alcides. His son, my cousin, shall deliver this letter to you, having pursued his father’s zeal, not in his dress, but in his mind. He is setting out, therefore, against the most worthless men, to purge his fatherland after the manner of Hercules. Truly, there was need of God and of Hercules—but also of Iolaus as an ally and supporter. For his part, he will secure God for himself by his inherent character, and by devoting himself to the virtue of life and the piety of his mind; but we, by this letter, are wooing your friendship for him in place of Iolaus. Grant as much to his company as you do to ours. And if you avail yourself of the friendship of this youth, you will surely say that I am not a poor judge of character.

LETTER CL.

LETTER CLI.

LETTER CLII.

Letter 153. To the female philosopher and teacher

^A Two books have I issued this year: the one moved by God, the other by the reproaches of men. For some among those in white robes, and those in dark ones, began to accuse me of transgressing against philosophy, because I sought after grace and rhythm in words, and because I deigned to speak somewhat touching Homer and the figures of rhetorical art; as if it behooved a philosopher to be a hater of discourse, and to be occupied solely with the investigation of things divine. And those, indeed, are observers of what the intellect comprehends; but for me, it is a wickedness that I should therefore take away some portion of my life from leisure, to forge the tongue and refresh the mind with some cheerfulness. Moreover, they were led to condemn me as being fit only for play, because my *Cynegetica*, I know not how, had escaped from my house and stirred up a great zeal in certain young men who cared for Hellenic culture and grace, and who approved of certain things that had proceeded with care from the poetic art, and bore some mark of the ancient hand—which is what we are accustomed to say of statues. But among these, some—their ignorance leading their audacity—are of all men the most ready to discourse concerning God. If you chance upon them, you will straightway hear some things concerning syllogisms that are no syllogisms at all, and even when there is no need, they pour forth their discourses, in private, as it seems to me, differing from them. For from these are drawn the public speakers in the cities; ^C which is the same as saying the horn of Amalthea, which they think must be used. You recognize, I think, this easy and ready race of men, which slanders a noble purpose of mind.

These demand that I should come into their discipline, and promise that in a short time I shall be most bold in divine matters through their works, so that I may henceforth be able to join nights with days in disputing. Other sophists, who have a better sense, are by far more wretched than these; for while they might wish to flourish with the same faculty, they are blessed in this, that they do not even attain to that. You know some who, having been despoiled in account-offices, or forced by some other calamity altogether, set out to philosophize in the midday of their life, by this very thing alone: that, according to the Platonic manner of swearing by the gods, they deny or affirm something, so that a shadow might seem to be about to say something useful and opportune before they do. Yet, the simulation is wondrous. For the eyebrow—oh!—is lifted to such a degree, and the hand supports the chin. In other respects, they surpass the images of Xenocrates in the gravity of their countenance. Indeed, they even strive to lay down laws for us which are most useful to themselves: that no one should hold that anyone who knows something of good is manifest; for they think it a reproof to themselves, if anyone who seems to be a philosopher should be found to speak. For they themselves, under cover of the simulation, would lie concealed, and seem to be filled with wisdom from within. Both of these classes have slandered me, as having bestowed labor on things of no worth; the one, because I do not

^A utter the same things; the other, because I do not keep my mouth shut, nor have I placed that proverbial ox upon my tongue. The work was elaborated against these people, and stands opposed to the vocal outcry of the former and the silence of the latter. For even if it proceeds primarily against those mute and envious ones (and consider how appropriate and elegant is the figuration of this), nevertheless it also accomplishes this: how it might draw others along with them, and it contends that it is no less a specimen of learning than a proclamation. For I have not denied the crime with which I was charged, but in order that they might be gnawed all the more, I have treated most of it with greater ambition and with great zeal. As it finally proceeds, inquiring into the ways of life, it commends philosophy as the wisest of all states and conditions of life; learn from the work itself what sort of thing this must be thought to be. Finally, it contains a purging of our book-chests, which themselves were not without some sprinkling of accusation, because they contained uncorrected books. For the furious and envious men did not refrain even from those.

Now, if individual points are arranged in the proper order, and all things are explained with a certain appearance and decorum; and if the transitions are well-timed to the discussions put forward everywhere; if it is distinguished by several chapters, in imitation of a divine work, namely the *Phaedrus*, which Plato published concerning all the species of the beautiful simultaneously; nevertheless, if all things converge toward one set aim and target; if any supine and prostrate narrative is supported by suitable proof; and if from proof, insofar as it can be in such matters, ^B a demonstration has arisen, and [if] that which is assumed for the sake of another [is used]—all these things would be the gift of art and nature. But whoever is not unskilled and unexercised in recognizing some divine face which lies concealed under a more humble form—just as the craftsmen at Athens used to do, who clothed Venus, or the Graces, and other such beauties of the gods in images of Sileni and Satyrs—to such a man the writing will not be hidden, even when it reveals many of the deepest dogmas. Under the pretense of dragging others along unnoticed, and by what might seem to have been scattered into the discourse quite casually and at random, [it conceals its nature]. For of the cooling effects which originate from the moon, only those who suffer from the comitial disease [epilepsy] are aware; so too, those alone capture the illuminations of the notions of the mind who possess a healthy and purified eye of the soul, for whom God kindles a light kindred to them—the cause of understanding for those endowed with intelligence, and of the things being understood, that they may be understood. Just as that visible light of ours joins the eye with color; if, while it is present, you take away that light, the faculty of sight remains idle and without action. ^C

We shall await your judgment on all these matters. And if you should decide that this work is to be brought forward, it shall be set forth for orators and philosophers alike; for it will both delight the former and benefit the latter, at any rate if it is not judged by one who has been prohibited from making such a judgment. But if it shall appear not worthy of the hearing of the Greeks, and if you, for your part, are disposed to prefer the truth to a friend—in accordance with Aristotle—a thick and deep darkness will be cast over it, and it will escape the notice of men. So much for this.

The other work God both ordered and examined [cor. *eneketoi*], which is dedicated as a thank-offering to the phantastic faculty. It has been considered in it concerning the entire nature of the soul, and certain other dogmas have been ^D brought forward which have not yet been philosophized by the Greeks. And why should one speak at length about it? It has been worked out in the space of a single night, or rather of a departing night, and I have brought [to it]...

to be written. For it is as though, being some other person, I have twice or perhaps thrice become a listener to my own words along with those present; and now, as often as I go through the composition, a wondrous disposition comes over me, and some divine voice, as the poets say, echoes around me regarding the composition. But whether this feeling is mine alone, or if these same things would happen to another, you shall signify to me. For you, after me, will be the first of the Greeks to encounter it. These I have sent among those not hitherto published. And that the number might be perfect, I have added the one regarding the gift (92), written long ago in the time of my embassy to a man who held great power at the court of the emperor, and who derived no small benefit from both the discourse and the gift of the Pentapolis.

EPISOTLE CLIV

Having learned quite clearly through the very deeds and facts that your excellent and noble self is inclined toward every duty of humanity, and willingly desires to extend a hand to those in need, I provoke you to this very thing, deeming that I am, as they say, urging a horse toward the plain, which is the matter of the discourse. And now, O dear head, you must show even more humanity than before, by as much as the person upon whom you would confer the benefit is more miserable. For it is a woman, and a woman reduced to widowhood; then she has suffered, along with her orphan child, all that she has suffered. As to who it is that has done her injury, and in what matter, and how, she herself will declare to your integrity. See to it therefore, O admirable man, that you defend the woman, both for the sake of what is right, and for what is fitting for you, and for my sake. For I myself shall be a participant in those things that are done for her, ^B since she is my kinswoman and was raised virtuously among us by a modest mother; therefore you shall be a partaker in the benefits, on account of her having been raised chastely and modestly by an honorable mother.

EPISTLE CLV

Things that are just require allies, and those who aid them might be called blessed, since they labor for the sake of equity. ^C Therefore I have chosen you as their patron and defender, you who bring aid both by your spirit and by your art. And as for me, I am most ready to confer benefits on whomever I can. But do you yourself provide the occasion. For you will experience a friendship which you yourself will not despise, and which perhaps no one would deride.

^D The number of the Epistles is completed when the numeral note is read. The page also contains the number written; but since the number 101 is missing thereafter, the matter stands well enough as regards the total. Perhaps the reader will wonder that a new and correct series of numbers was not instituted in the new edition, but since the epistles of Synesius have long been cited by everyone according to the edition of Dionysius Petavius, we have decided that nothing should be changed. For the same reason, we have placed the following epistle, which does not appear among those published by P. Petavius, after the others. ED.

(92) This speech is wrongly placed in the edition of Cornarius in the register of the epistles, with a false inscription to Orum.

SUPPLEMENT TO THE EPISTLES OF SYNESIUS

EPISTLE CLVI

^A Your most sapient letter, as exquisitely harmonious as it is very brief, and yet very sharp, which your wonderful mind has brought forth, has reached us and delighted us greatly, and pleased us for a double reason at once: both because it came from an excellent and highly praised companion, and because it was composed with the greatest grace. Indeed, it almost provoked us to attempt something else greater and more audacious—which certainly, were it not for ancient love, which has the power of joining things far apart and frequently reconciling things opposed to each other, would have begged pardon for the act—since there was little wanting to place us in the rank of those at whom one might rightly and deservedly be angry.

To what end, perhaps you ask? Assuredly, in dealing with such a man, one who, I know not if I should say, is initiated into the Muses more deeply than any other ^B (whom if Demosthenes saw among us, he would say that the image of eloquent Hermes had come to us), for daring to attempt a comparison and an exchange with our own language—which you see is neither of exquisite elegance, nor even tested by the top of a finger’s taste, and is now so rendered rustic by long living in the country that it can scarcely call a spade a spade. For I confess to you a fault, silent and secretly held in my breast, now so growing by some fate of my own that there is a danger it may hereafter thoroughly dominate me. You have reason, therefore, to pity us ^C rather than proclaim us happy, since it has not even befallen us to meet with anyone of that excellent kind and order of most refined men, by whose use and rubbing we might be able to scrape away from ourselves, from the dregs of the barbarians, something of this thick, suety, pastoral horror with which we delicately offend the brightness of your orderly world.

But this matter offers an even greater cause for pity and sorrow than the former, namely what has just happened: that your petition did not arrive in time. For the oil which you seek, and which I too would wish—or, to speak truly, which I had in my prayers ^D that it might pass to such a one as you—has, by the nature of things, been detained in this place and put to use; and so there is no olive tree left upon which there is room for grafting (for allow me to indulge a little in the common tongue) onto which a sweet friend might be inserted. For every tree is full, and they are already beginning to bear fruit each after its kind.

This, then, for now; the present bearer will explain the rest, and will clearly set forth how the things you requested did not find their opportunity. Farewell, and with a good spirit apply yourself to the impulse toward all philosophy that you long ago undertook.

HOMILY IV

^A ...yet not wordy, honoring God with the voice, but by quickly ending, showing favor to the festival. But that you may be a worthy celebrant for God, do not desire a drunken table after a fasting one. Crown the vessel with a mixture of sobriety for God. Our God is wisdom and the Word. A vessel that disturbs the spirit, that perturbs one who is thinking, belongs not to the Word. There is a relaxation appropriate to God, and there is a relaxation appropriate to demons. "Rejoice in the Lord with fear." (Ps. II, 11) When you banquet, he says, remember God. For then the great slippage into sin occurs. When the body grows fat with fleshly things, it turns the soul away from wisdom. "A cup in the hand of the Lord, full of pure wine mixed; and he poured from this into that; nevertheless the dregs thereof were not emptied." (Ps. LXXIV, 9 - Septuagint translation)

Drink of that cup, and you shall have become worthy of the bridegroom’s banquet. That cup is a breakfast-maker, full of wine; for the very thing that is pledged for us deserves to be awakened in our mind. And straightway the word is clear here, but it does not need many things from the mind. "A cup, in pure wine, full of mixture; and he poured from this into that." If it is pure, how is it full of mixture? And if it is one, how did he pour from this into that? The things said appear entirely absurd, but not the things understood by them. God has no care for wordiness in divine speech, and rejects the anxious attention of scribes regarding petty details. ^B Does divine Spirit despise literary micrology? But do you wish to behold the harmony in the discord? Of what cup, he says, does it speak? Of the word which, having been drunk previously by men from God, we possess in the Old and New Testaments. For with this drink the soul is irrigated. That it is the word, each is pure. For it is mixed, while being twofold. For it is one thing, being composed of both, acting as the perfection of knowledge. The Old had the promise; the New brought forth the Apostle. But the phrase, "He poured from this into that," hints at the succession of the teachers, of the Mosaic law and the Lord’s law; and the cup is one. For one and the same Spirit breathed both into the prophet and into the Apostle. And according to the good painters, ^C formerly He sketched in outline, but afterwards He perfected the features of knowledge: "Nevertheless its dregs were not emptied."

^D

Notes of Dionysius Petavius

(35') In this homily Synesius shows that feast days should be celebrated piously and soberly, and that the Spirit of the New and Old Testament is one and the same.