MANUELIS CHRYSO-LORAE EPISTOLAE
1. Letter of the most learned Manuel Chrysoloras to Emperor John, in which is contained a comparison of Old and New Rome.
Most excellent Emperor, what things needed to be reported at length to your Majesty, I have already written in other letters, which I believe will arrive along with these; nay rather, as I had indeed written many things to you from here before, and not a few in these most recent letters, yet it pleased me to add these also for pleasure, not for utility: a pleasure which I feel I derive in no small measure while I offer my writings to your sacred Majesty. The subject matter of this present writing I shall take from this city, which previously I used to admire from the reports of others, but now, from the very sight of it, I judge it to be much more worthy of admiration than anyone might simply conjecture from those things which are told about it. A And indeed, the greatest things are reported about it, not only by those who have written about these matters in their vernacular tongue, but now also by almost all of our own people, and especially by learned men who have dwelt in it; so that some, as you know, have left behind complete orations, others books, in its praise. Others, however, have said the greatest things about it in a few words: such as that which that Sophist, a man very dear and familiar to you, declares about it in a certain letter, with a very brief compass of words, in these words, if I rightly remember the phrasing, which he uses at the beginning of his letter: "See that you keep us in your memory, after you have arrived in Rome, and see such things as you had not seen before; persuading yourself that that is not land, but a portion of heaven. For it is no wonder that we remember you. For while we dwell in the same places, and are occupied with nothing new, we might think of our friends."
Although he wrote these things to a Greek or a Syrian, his own fellow-citizen—for I do not clearly recall the name—yet we hear the beauty of Antioch celebrated both by many others and by that same author himself, in the speech wherein he commemorates the praises of his fatherland, to which he gave its name. Nay, another citizen of the same city, now, however, also a citizen of the heavens, whose mouth and tongue have received a surname from gold, proclaims C many things about it here and there: or to one of those who were inhabiting Asia at that time, in which was then Rhodes and Smyrna, and the most beautiful wonders of the world. For in that same land were the temple of Diana of the Ephesians, and the Colossus of Rhodes, and the tomb of Mausolus in Halicarnassus, of all or most of which the remains were still to be seen at that time. But if you wish, let us assume
or if you would have it that he came from Egypt or Libya, where we hear A of the city of Alexandria and, among the more celebrated spectacles, those Thebes renowned for their hundred gates and the pyramids were made; whose shadows they say, at the rising and setting of the sun, are cast to a distance of several days' journey; and of which they say that even that smallest one, Memphis itself and all the neighboring places, have from those times even to our own day continued to use for any construction whatsoever, no less than they would stone quarries, and yet it is not exhausted; nay rather, as they say, while constructing whole cities and neighborhoods from it, they have scarcely consumed a small part of it. It was likely that he, whoever he was, while sailing to Rome, also passed through the islands and Greece. And it was likely, too, that he had already seen Greece beforehand, and the eye of Greece at that time, I mean Athens. And some one of those from Greece ought to have been this person—and this one not from the common and unobservant or ignorant sort, but from the educated, to whom it was likely that such a person would write, and who himself took pleasure in such spectacles and such travels. What then, B or what was that thing which was about to strike him so much as to make him forget Greece and the spectacles in it, seeing things such as he had not seen before, and to despise both it and the friends left in it; and to persuade himself that it is not land, but some part of the heavens? Therefore, as I said, the greatest things have been written about it in both of these languages. And I think that even the Barbarians themselves, as many as are not entirely devoid of letters, have very much about it in their writings. But I, who thought these things were said by them to the point of hyperbole, now see that nothing is said beyond what the reality holds; such are the things that are seen. Although almost nothing remains intact or safe in it, nor is it possible to find anything at all immune from injury: since some things have collapsed of their own accord through the antiquity of time, and others have experienced the violent hands of men. C For it has happened to this city, just as it has to our own, that it serves as its own mine and stone quarry, and as we say of the whole of this, it is nourished and consumed by itself. It has failed, so to speak, in all things; nevertheless, even within the very ruins and rubble, it is apparent what it was like in the beginning, and what the magnitude and beauty of the buildings were. For what was there not beautiful in it? And it was not only that its assembled and standing things were beautiful, but its separated and divided parts also appear beautiful; just as in a whole, beautiful body, the hand or foot or head is beautiful; and in a great body, each of the limbs is great. And not a few of these have even remained in their greater part. And many of those things which once existed in Greece, as it is possible to see from the inscriptions, are visible in it; columns and remarkable stones, and pillars and statues, and images, and very many Greek inscriptions of the most beautiful and ancient style. Many things, too, were made here in the city itself D by the Greeks, as it is possible to see from the inscriptions; and it is apparent that its citizens, as we hear from the histories, were vehemently delighted by Greek things, and that very many of our own lived as Greeks in it.
A Nor is it permitted only to see—from these remains of statues, columns, tombs, and buildings—the wealth, the manual skill, and the art, or if you will, the greatness and the dignity, and furthermore the disposition, the love of beauty, the robustness, and the luxury of the city; but one may also discern its superstition, its greatness of soul, its ambition, its judgment, its victories, and its entire prosperity, as well as its empire, its honors, and its expertise in weaponry. For it is possible to see not only the lofty aqueducts arriving from afar, and the mass of the walls, and the porticoes, and the royal houses, and the curiae, and the fora, and the hot baths, and the theaters, all conspicuous for their number, their size, and their beauty; but also many splendid and frequent temples, each marked by a different name, and shrines, and signs, and images, and monuments, and statues of those ancient and illustrious men, set up at public expense for their merits toward the city. We see also monuments of virtue and triumphal arches, constructed as a memorial of those triumphs and processions, upon which the battles themselves, the captures, the spoils, and the storming of walls are carved in relief, as well as the sculptures of sacrifices, of victims, of altars, and of votive offerings. B To these are added naval, infantry, and equestrian battles, and, so to speak, every kind of battle, as well as engines of war and types of armament; further, the conquered princes—perhaps Medes or Persians, or Iberians, or Gauls, or Assyrians—each in his own national dress, and the subject peoples, and the commanders celebrating triumphs over them. Item, one may see the chariots and the quadrigae with their charioteers, along with the guards and the attendants who followed, and the spoils going before, all as if alive in these effigies; and it is possible to ascertain what each thing was from the letters added to them. Thus it is clearly possible to perceive what arms and what dress they used in the past, what badges of office, what methods of battle formation and fighting, and what ways they had of besieging cities and C laying out camps; and finally, with what ornaments and in what attire they appeared in war or at home, in the assemblies, in the senate, or even in the forum: whether traveling by land or sailing by sea, or whether intent on work, or exercising their bodies, or watching games, or in the public meetings, or in the workshops, and this according to the diverse rites of the nations. While Herodotus and some other historians explain these things, they seem to have done a work of great value. But in these monuments, one is permitted to see all things as they stood in those times and as they existed among diverse peoples; so that it is a kind of accurate history, or rather not so much a history as an ocular inspection, if I may put it so, and a present knowledge of all the things that happened at that time; and truly the art of imitation contends and competes with the very nature of things, so that you seem to see an entire man, a city, a horse, or an army, or a breastplate, or a sword, or a full suit of armor; or even those captured, fleeing, D laughing, weeping, disturbed, or angry. Then, besides all these things, inscribed in uncial letters: Senate
A and the People of Rome, to Julius Caesar, it may be, or to Titus, or to Vespasian, on account of some exploit performed well and bravely: for having conquered these or those peoples, or for having preserved the fatherland, or for having routed the barbarians, or for any other such glorious deed. But why should I speak of those ancient Meleagers, Amphions, and Triptolemuses, or, if you will, Pelops, Amphiaraus, and Tantalus, and whatever else of this kind the fabulous and ancient history of the Greeks recounts? The streets are full of these, full are the monuments and tombs of the ancients, full are the walls of the houses; all works of the most excellent and consummate art, of a Phidias, or a Lysippus, or a Praxiteles, or the like. So that, as you walk through the city, you are drawn by your eye now hither and now thither; just as happens to those who are smitten with love and who contemplate living beauty with curiosity and wonder. Added to this is the circuit of the walls and the site of the whole city, and then too the flow of the river, and the former pleasantness of the fields and suburbs and villas therein.
C But this city was not lacking in harbors and naval stations either; some were within the walls, others at the very mouths of the river, and others a little below the walls, the remains of which are still visible today; and whose demolition, I think, would be difficult for all the rulers of our time, if indeed it is right to call that difficult which anyone would pronounce impossible. Moreover, for the sake of pleasure and entertainment, and also for the exercise of the citizens, they even used naval battles within the walls in the city itself—I do not mean in the river, but in a sea or lake created inside the city for this very purpose. And just as there were gymnasia and theaters for contests, for gladiatorial combats, and for wild beast hunts, and for chariot races, so too there were places where triremes could clash. So that it is truly permissible to say, "There was nothing else besides Rome," as one of our own ancients said of it.
Those were the ancient things; but what might one say of the more recent things, and those pertaining to our own true religion? Or what, as is to be expected, could have been made from such an abundance of stones and materials of such a kind, with such art flourishing at that time, and with such great piety and devotion? Among these, some of the ancient monuments were refashioned, while others were made holy from profane and unclean temples, and divine churches were fashioned out of idol temples. How many churches of the apostles are there? How many of the martyrs? How many of the holy and righteous ones? How many of the holy women and virgins? And then as for their very bodies, and their relics, whether entire or divided into parts, and whatever is recounted for their remembrance and for the glory of the common human race—who could enumerate them? One might truly call this city a treasury of holy relics and a storehouse of sacred things in D a few words. So that what he, whom I mentioned at the beginning, said at that time, might with better reason be said in these present times: that it is a part of heaven, because of such inhabitants.
A But I pass these things over. Yet who could worthily admire the two luminaries, or suns, or indeed the whole heavens declaring the glory of God—I mean Peter and Paul, whose relics lie here, and in whose memory I write these things? And who could worthily admire the gathering of the whole world to these men, as if to certain communal satraps, leaders, or consuls? It is truly a marvel to see from Spain, or Iberia, and Gaul, and the British islands, and if there be any lands further to the west or north; and then also from Germany, Sarmatia, and Pannonia, and some from Greece and Asia, and from whatever other places B (for who could recount everyone?)—not only men of every age and profession, but also women, arriving here after such long journeys, such dangers and labors, through cold, mud, dust, heat, and tribulations, in order that they may adore the shrine, the casket, and the tomb of the Apostles, and this even from afar and through curtains and lattices. That they may apply their faces and heads to the dust, to the ground, and to the surrounding stones and iron barriers, and proclaim them as the saviors, lords, and, as I said, the suns of the world. That after so many years, they may give thanks for the preaching of the truth, and for the conversion from error and darkness, and this in that city and in that empire where they themselves met death for preaching these things, where so much superstition and so much error had been introduced by the adversaries of the truth, as can be demonstrated by their idols, statues, and temples. Whence edicts against Christians were carried throughout the whole world, and executioners were sent against them. Where, in one place, one sees the now collapsed and demolished houses—and mutilated and semi-broken statues—of that impious murderer Nero, in another those of Diocletian, and in another those of Maximian, the persecutors. But they pass by these C monuments, even though they were of emperors, and of those who once brought them before courts and treated them like slaves; and what do I say "pass by"? Rather, they trample them with spiteful heels, strike them with their fists, and, as I said, mutilate, spit upon, and overturn them. But they incline their heads—with how much joy and pleasure, or if you prefer, with beating of the breast, devotion, and tears—to these poor and foreign men, or rather, to the servants and subjects of those emperors, men who by their profession and way of life were tent-makers and fishermen, calling them, as I said, saviors and protectors, and not only lords of the present and earthly things, but also doorkeepers of the heavens, asking from them salvation for themselves, their friends, their kin, and the whole world. But they sit in an elevated and conspicuous place, magnificently fashioned in the ancient style, and on a larger scale, with mosaic pebbles, or marbles, or colors, or even with pure silver and gold, just as if they were kings or princes, or common lords of all, bearing the keys, the symbol of the power to bind and to loose, and the mark of the virtue and authority of Him who gave that power. D For the monuments of the Roman people, or of Julius Caesar, or of Augustus, or of any other, even here in
A their own fatherland are unknown to most, have lost their former beauty, and lie everywhere in ruins. But these things flourish and thrive throughout the whole world. I remember the pomp and solemn festival which, two years ago, I—in the company of those present with me—witnessed being celebrated by the inhabitants of the place in London in Britain, upon that very island of the outer sea and ocean, in honor of these apostles. Caesar, who first subdued them and whose forts still stand there to this day—one at the crossing and the other in the aforementioned place—they do not know. And I myself think that all those things, and the Roman Empire, and the monarchy and dominion of the emperors, and the subjection of the nations, came into being for this reason, that these things might follow. But what need is there to admire and behold the glory of the apostles and the reverence and honor shown to them in their very bodies and their tombs? For it is permitted to see and admire this both regarding the authority of the Church, and regarding those who are in the long series of successors after them; for I believe that never, under the rule of that old Rome, did so many edicts of those emperors, and [so many] plebiscites and senatusconsulta, go forth through so great a part of the world as now go forth far and wide from the Church. And those who ever decree these things and make them authoritative through their seals are the images and heads of Peter and Paul; who can no longer say: B *Silver and gold I have none* (Acts 3:6). But who could count the wealth conferred by them? I might perhaps appear to some to be exaggerating, but I believe that all the princes of the world, as many as have come to our knowledge, gathered together, could not confer as much from their customary revenues and goods, the power of distributing which belongs by right to them. But Peter and Paul do confer these things, and it is necessary that they confer them, nor would they who distribute them wish to keep them for themselves. It is necessary, moreover, that the successors of Peter and Paul and their household should distribute them. And those who receive them seem to receive them from masters: yet those who confer them, confer them as masters. Nor does any man gainsay it, unless some should quarrel with one another about the validity or invalidity of a collation. And it is fitting that they themselves should judge this matter again, and be the judges and arbiters of the things which they themselves have done; and more often it happens that appeal to them is made even from those things which others have established. But why should I mention the spiritual largesses, and the judges of the nations? For in the temple of the holy apostles, because of the diversity of languages, one may see here one sitting on a throne, listening C to the confessions of those who have come from the British islands for this very reason; there, those who have come from Spain or Gaul; elsewhere, those who have arrived from Dalmatia or Dacia. And in the squares, or through the city, or in the church, you may hear these men promiscuously uttering, one a different voice, and another a different one. D
A Wherefore, B the apostles will not sit on twelve thrones then only, according to the promise, judging the twelve tribes of Israel; but even now these men sit on many thrones, as it were certain judges, judging the world. And not only in the primitive Church, but even now, according to their own voice, they speak things intelligible to all. And outside, as I have said, the decrees and constitutions of the holy apostles go forth everywhere; and hither they flow together from every quarter, not only by a journey of many days, but even of months, with no one pursuing them, accusing themselves, as Plato in the *Gorgias* commands those who desire to become just to do, that they may fulfill the enjoined penalty by the work of those whose judgment they have accepted. For I say nothing of those who, by command, run from the farthest ends of the earth or are dragged against their will. Who indeed would not be astonished when he hears the Pope in a public consistory giving answers and uttering oracles? Who would not marvel when he sees these things? But why should I say more about these matters? C That, however, which I was saying concerning the relics of the apostles, how much they contribute to this city, may be seen from the Commentaries of Chrysostom on the Epistle of Paul to these very Romans, if I remember rightly, toward the end; where that man, truly golden not only in mouth but also in soul, concluding the whole discourse and that golden writing, as if stirred by a divine frenzy, twice or thrice and more often exclaims: "I would desire to see that city," meaning Rome, "in which these and other things concerning the apostles and the burial and presence of their bodies in it are reported," saying that he desired to see those feet, desired the hands, desired those heads. And he does not cease, like those who labor under an impotent love, to enumerate the individual members, and to say the same things a thousand times.
But let us now leave these things aside; for neither does the nature of a letter admit of so prolix a discourse, and whatever we may have said, we shall seem to have said nothing worthy of the subject. Moreover, I intended only to say a few things at the beginning, but I did not observe that I had exceeded the measure too far. Yet I wished to write these things as an appendix to my letters for the sake of amusing the mind, especially since in your letters to me I found this also laid down among other things, that I write too little. I am hastening, however, to send these letters, lest before they arrive at Venice, the triremes of that city shall have already departed. But indeed, in a matter of this kind, it is by far the most difficult thing to begin rightly and to end well; for the whole thing is defined by its extremities and receives its form from them. And as many do not know where to begin, so neither do they know where a limit should be imposed—those who, once they have begun, it is necessary should always speak. I, however, for such a length of time in this manner have kept silent before your Highness, that now having at last begun an oration, I can with difficulty cease quickly. But as you will pardon the silence of my interrupted oration in the past, so now you will pardon my loquacity. But since, when such matters have been set forth before you, a limit must necessarily be put, I do not wish, however, on that account, to D
commit an injury against our city. A I would, however, be doing it an injury if I were to end here. For seeing these things, as many as I have spoken of regarding the buildings and the natural beauties and those fashioned by hand, I marvel indeed at the ancient magnificence and power of the city, and I delight in these things—especially because I see that they are very similar to those among us. And that similarity alone, as you know, is naturally apt to stir us, when we see things that are very similar; especially when we observe a son to be like his father, or a daughter like her mother, or brothers like each other; and these all the more if they chance to be related to us in any way. B And I think that this also exists in the case of our own city—and this is no small thing, for it can stir a man, especially a patriot, who is sojourning away from his own people. For I think that no daughter was ever so accurately similar to her mother as that one is to this one. But even with things being thus (for I think there is no envy for a mother when a daughter is praised, just as conversely it is not right for a daughter to harbor envy when her mother is being praised), I consider our own to be the winner. C For I compare the ancient things as best I can. For what has been produced in that one, whether of natural or artificial works, that has not also been produced among us? And the remains themselves are similar to our remains. For if in some things that one seems to have the advantage, we have other things to set against these as well. And there are many things that have been and are among us, which you would not find in that one. And truly, very many have progressed to a better state. For naturally, that one, looking to no specific model at all, so to speak, was content with its superiority over all things simply; but this one, looking to that one as a model, and as if to an archetype—as it is possible to see accurately—has progressed in many things to a better and more brilliant state. D For the works of men, when competing with others, can advance to a better state; and the beauties of parents, for the most part, contribute to a better state in the beauties of their children, and magnitudes to magnitudes, especially, as we hear, in the case of mothers—not only among men, but now also among other living creatures. It is therefore no wonder that, being so great and accordingly so beautiful, it has given birth to a daughter greater and more beautiful; and this becomes praise for the mother herself. And the beauties of the mother increase those of the daughter; and it is not a case of comparing one with another, but in a way the same one with itself, namely, the New Rome with the Old. So it is not right for us to be unfair judges in such matters, especially for us who are heirs to both its goods and ours, being sons of the former and grandsons of the latter. But we ought rather to take pride in both, just as those who are accustomed to trace their nobility back to many, and can count not only parents who are great and beautiful, but also ancestors of such a kind, or perhaps even superior. And for parents, it is, as someone said, the work of a prayer to be surpassed by their children, so that it is right for us to harbor this suspicion in these matters. I say, therefore, that the mother is very beautiful and lovely, but the daughter is, by many degrees, the more beautiful; and it is not fitting that this one should call another the metropolis and mother,
A nor that the other should be called its colony and daughter; nor, as I said, that there should be such similarity between mother and daughter as there is in these. Rather, the beauty of this one has taken its increase from the other, like the kindling of a fire or a ray of light from elsewhere. For if we had nothing else to say, yet its situation with regard to both continents, I mean Europe and Asia, and the connection of both the northern and southern seas, so that it joins and at the same time divides the world and its nations as if by a common bond, situated as it were at the gates—who, I ask, would not deem this not only useful and beautiful, but also imperial? As for the harbor, which I believe surpasses all others anywhere in size and safety, capable of receiving all the triremes and merchant ships that have ever existed anywhere; and the fact that it is, so to speak, surrounded on all sides by sea and land, so that it is at once both mainland and island, and both inland and maritime; and the crown or circuit of its walls, which I know not whether in any respect it could yield to the Babylonian walls; and the density, size, and height of the towers therein, such that each one of them, even if it stood alone, would be able of itself to strike wonder into spectators as a whole structure in its own right—nay, B even the size, bulk, and structure of the steps alone by which one ascends them are worthy of admiration—and then the splendor of the walls, the gates, and the towers rising above them; and the outer defense in front of the walls, which alone would suffice as a secure fortification for another city; and then the excavation and structure of the moats, and their breadth and depth, and the abundance of water in them: so that in the only part where it was lacking, even there by this benefit it appears to be a maritime city; just as, conversely, where it is maritime, because of the neighboring islands it appears to adhere to the continent. So that, what someone said about the city of the Athenians—that it can be passed by sea, and circumnavigated, and traversed on foot—this city is even belted by a double circuit, and yet for all that, because of the abundance of water, it is maritime. I ask, what is left by which it could be surpassed by anyone? Nay, by what could any other city even approach it or be equal to it? And as for the interior of the city, it truly corresponded to the walls and to the model on which, as I said, it was founded in the beginning, and to the metropolis, and the mother, and the glory and power of its founders. C For the two most powerful and wisest nations, one of which at that time held the empire, and the other having held it a little while before, excelling in every kind of art and ambition and luxury—I mean the Romans and the Greeks—having joined their efforts, have fashioned this city, and they made use of the work and service of all other nations, and of their own people, in this endeavor. And in the beginning, they chose a site and ground for the city that was worthy of the impending city which they had conceived in their minds, and of the empire, so that by residing in it they might be able to manage the whole world conveniently. They chose it, therefore, not only for the government of the whole world, but also from every...
B consideration of what was fitting. And that they judged well is shown to us now by experience. Furthermore, they brought all the arts from everywhere for its embellishment; immediately the rich built sumptuously, the great magnificently, and the kings royally. For how could men who had come from such a city and such houses have lived uncomfortably and squalidly? And those who came after always imitated their predecessors, as usually happens with buildings. Nature, then, had prepared for them, even before the very gates, the marble island for their construction, as if she were not ignorant of what sort of city and by what sort of authors it was destined to be founded there, and she placed before them the materials and the preparation necessary for its beauty C and dignity. But they, being in no way content with white marble, and those variegated stones from Thessaly, Paros, and the Peloponnese, cared to have stones brought even from Arabia, Egypt, Libya, Marmarica, and from the very scorched region of the world for the building of this city; so that they immediately established houses that, on account of their size, could be entire towns. They also built temples of such a kind that one could hardly believe they were constructed by human art and by men—a matter which, when piety toward God is also brought to bear, was rightly done by them. For if the works of sacrilegious and impious men have been so many and of such a kind, what sort and how great ought those to be of them who worship the true God? And if such buildings were D constructed and offered to demons by those who served them, what monuments of gratitude ought to have been offered to the Savior for having liberated us from those same demons? But I pass over these things. I pass over the roofed and walled pathways that were once shown throughout the whole city, so that it was possible to pass through it entirely without mud or sun. I omit the monolithic columns, each of which could well constitute a tower or a fortress. I pass over the porticoes, the bases of statues, and the pyramids. I omit the multitude, size, and beauty of other royal buildings in different parts of the city, as well as the theaters, the military quarters, the courts, the circuses, the gymnasia, and the hippodromes; and further, the shipyards, the embankments of the walls and harbors, and the moats, and the defenses
A of the foundations and of the walls extending to the sea, and the stations suitable for receiving ships from any quarter; and even towers in the middle of the sea and in the deep ocean, and in the very vortex of the receding tides, and in these towers, fresh water. Beyond these, there are elevated and suspended aqueducts through the arches of the walls, which you could call aerial rivers, brought from more remote places at a distance of some days' journey, as they say; furthermore, through the excavated ridges of the intervening mountains. I also omit the reservoirs and cisterns in which those waters are first received—which for the water conduits serve as a sea or lake; some of which are covered by slabs and lie hidden from view, while others are open and exposed, and can be navigated by boats. Some of these now nourish the largest trees within their vaulted interiors, and others on their roofs, and take the place of fields and gardens for their neighbors. I omit the multitude of columns and vaults in those cisterns; then the other underground and excavated channels that render the whole city as if it were a suspended floor and hollow beneath; also the sewers and public passages: all of which are very numerous in this city. But what shall I say of the baths, the number of which, if I were to relate it, I would not find belief? And of the abundance of water, which is derived from springs through houses and publicly throughout the city? What of the suburbs? Which, if you look at their size, extend for some days' journey outside the city; if at their beauty, convenience, and equipment, they vie with urban buildings in every way. For from Abydos, and Sestos, and the Hellespont B as far as the Thracian Bosporus, and the Phana, and the Cyanean islands, whether from the side of Asia or of Europe, the circuit of the Propontis, and the islands situated around the city within it, and then also the horn of the harbor, and whatever extends from there to the Pharos—whoever has circled these would find they were continuous suburbs to this city. Whose temples and buildings (if anyone wished to enumerate them), a history—and that not a small one—would have to be written. And these suburbs themselves, in no small part, through what they call the Long Wall, extending from the lower sea to the upper sea and the Euxine Pontus, coalesce into one continuous city: which could constitute an entire province; for it embraces within itself solely in its magnitude as much as one might perhaps not easily find in all the others combined. The Long Wall itself, however, not only would it be rightly called long, but also a wide and high wall; C since it is of such a nature and so great, that even if it had been constructed indiscriminately from any stones whatsoever, and from the gravel of rivers and torrents, and from small rocks, it would certainly deserve admiration. But it consists of such a mass of stones, and is constructed with such art, that if it extended only a few fathoms, it would not undeservedly bring astonishment to those watching it; for it is more truly a mountain than a wall. To such a degree, indeed, that if it were suspended like a rope or beam, it would possess a thickness proportionate to its length: which is indeed required in those things D so that they do not break. Since, however, the wall
A and the other fortifications of the city, which I have mentioned, were constructed in the time of a powerful and mighty empire, those other works of that city were built for magnificence rather than for use. For the less the city stood in need of the magnitude of its walls at that time, by so much the more and greater were they encompassed; since they believed that the city first appeared through its walls, and from there received its name, and that these were built not for the present age alone but for all future time: in the course of which many things might happen to men, among which the envy of the many holds even the chief place, and then also the greatest changes of affairs come about, so that these might remain for as long as possible as proofs not only of the power of the founders, but also of their foresight regarding the future and their prudence.
But if I wished to commemorate the monuments, tombs, B columns, and statues of our city, which either exist even now or existed formerly, perhaps even here the material would not fail me; but although they are perhaps fewer in number than those there, yet I would commemorate some that are far more beautiful and more splendid than they. For what of the tomb of that emperor, the founder and guardian whom the city acknowledges? What of the neighboring monuments of the others in the place where the burials of the emperors are seen? A thing to be wondered at by the mere sight: of which not a few still survive around the church of the Holy Apostles; many also have already perished; others, too, exist here and there in the vestibules of churches. What, indeed, of the statue of that emperor who was the author of the laws? And how many other statues, if I remember rightly, on the other hand, in turn surrounded it, placed upon the greatest columns from the east? C But that there were very many other statues of this kind throughout the city, the bases of them and the inscriptions which are still seen show: of which some were in other places, but the most were in the Hippodrome; and I myself formerly saw other and many more, which I know have now been removed. There are those who even say that the column which stands on the Xerolophos, and the other one opposite to it, facing the sunrise on the hill which takes its name from the Bull, supported statues made of silver: of which indeed one was of the greater, the other of the lesser Theodosius, for by these names they are commonly distinguished. But how great, how precious, and how beautiful they must have been, is clear from the beauty, height, splendor, and magnificence of the bases. D Yet while I, revolving these things in my mind, was thinking of them, there came into my memory the gate of the city which once existed on the same road and in the same line towards the west; so wide that it could have received at its place whole towers or fortresses, if it were possible to move them, and merchant ships with their tackle and masts: then also the portico above it sparkling far and wide, and the magnitude of the marbles in the portico itself: as well as the column before the gate, which itself also once supported a statue. And furthermore, the pillar on the other hill, which overhangs the house in which you now dwell; as also those that exist in the Strategion; then the one which is seen to the right of the church of the Holy Apostles, and many other bases, were worthy of statues appropriate to them. For what should I say of the porphyry column to the east on the same square, again rising to a great height, which bears the cross, and which was fixed and established on the courtyard of the palaces of the great Constantine, all the statues
》A and indeed surpassing all other columns; for we have a great abundance of relief work, such as is seen on those columns carved all around, which were executed with the utmost precision in imitation of those that exist here. Yet those statues, which, made of porphyry stone, sit on seats at the crossroads—which some call the Agoranomia and the Principate—surpass that work. There is also another on the same street, a little above the head of the stream that flows through the city, made of white stone or marble, which seems to recline on its elbow. And there are many other things of this kind, which, though I have not seen them myself, I have heard exist in certain hidden places. For I omit those that are before the Golden Gate. But who could worthily admire this very gate and its marble towers, and the labors of Hercules, and the torment of Prometheus, and other such things expressed in marble with the highest and most admirable art? The reason why that city does not have more of these works is that it was founded at a time when even here these things lay neglected on account of religion. I believe that people then avoided the likeness of statues and signs; for who here would have made those things then, when those already existing here lay neglected? Yet they made and discovered others: tablets, I say, images, paintings, and tessellated or mosaic work, an art truly most beautiful and most durable. And here, indeed, such tessellated works are quite rare; they are certainly peculiar to Greece alone, or rather to that city; for if any such thing is seen here or in other places, it derived both its material and its art from there. I think that this also happened in the art of statuary; namely, that it began there and came hither, yet received admirable growth here: which perhaps one could affirm of many other things as well. B C D But I leave these things aside, as I said, and I pass over the other things, as many as one might call unspeakable and unsurpassable regarding that city; but that church—to which he who did well imposed the name of the Wisdom of God (for it is truly not a work of human wisdom)—when someone has beheld it, what other things thereafter can he commemorate, or admire, or of what others can he thereafter be mindful? For I think that neither has there been, nor will there ever be, anything similar created by human hands. Whence, even I, once I have made mention of it, will leave aside all discourse regarding such things. For it is not possible to say anything of it worthy of its dignity; and once you have made mention of it, it is not permitted to speak of anything else at all. For when you consider this in your mind, nothing else can be thought of. But of it, as I said, it is impossible to say anything worthy of its dignity; and if anyone were to begin to speak, he would be compelled to spend more time on this than on all the rest, and yet he would not say anything as befits it. But I will willingly concede this, yet by no means at the end of a speech, nor in passing, nor without a specific plan, as was to be said of the prior things. But if, neither immediately from the beginning, nor by a certain plan, nor when intending another plan, can we describe any part of that temple in words, in any case...
A shall we be able worthily to speak of even the smallest part or portion? For we cannot accurately describe the gates alone and the passages, nor the floor, nor the vestibules and the ornaments before the gates, nor the columns, nor the tessellated work, nor the marble incrustations of the walls, nor the glass, nor the brass expended therein, nor the lead, nor the iron, nor the sapphire, nor the gold, nor again the glass in the joints of the tesserae, nor any other part whatsoever. What then, might one say concerning the stones and the whole form, and the entire construction, and the breadth, and the height, and the roof? B Indeed, not only do we find ourselves unable to describe it as it is, but we are not even able to behold it; or rather, even while we look upon it, we do not believe how it stands. For just as we marvel at the sphere of heaven turning upon itself, so also do we wonder how that inimitable and celestial arch and roof was made in the beginning and how it has stood. And although the height of necessity abstracts much from the greatness of the view, or rather from the height itself; yet, as much as is visible seems like something immense and vast; so that one might marvel not only at such a mass C and such a structure, but also at those who, with no similar example proposed, conceived in their minds such a work, and thought it possible that the conception of their mind could truly be brought into act, and brought it to completion. I speak not only concerning the entire work in general, but I speak especially concerning the roof, which that architect was required to contemplate exactly as it is now—straight from the foundations, or rather even before the very laying of the foundations—and to have the confidence that it could be constructed; yet now, even when seen, it is disbelieved. It is likely that that man relied much upon the art and the D proportions according to it; and that he was highly skilled in geometry or mechanics. Yet why do I say this? For that work is something that can cause those who see it to marvel not only at his own ingenuity and that of the others who built it, but also at the ingenuity and greatness of the human race, and of this animal generally; because there is in it, by nature—as one would not have thought beforehand—an abundance of inventiveness, and greatness of mind, and dignity, and power. For I believe that none of the works made by human hands among men is near or equal to it. And many wonders of both nature and intellectual wisdom are shown in it. This work, then, being so great and such as it is, it is better to wonder at in silence; since it is able to make those who think upon it and look upon it senseless and speechless, even from the mere sight or memory of it; just as it happens that those who look toward the sun or toward anything that is brilliant are unable to see. And concerning the holy relics and the sanctified objects in that city, which are very many from
A the beginning, for they were gathered together with zeal from everywhere by the most august emperors, but again, from there, as if from a common source, many having been distributed everywhere, that many still remain even now, I believe no one at all is ignorant.
Letter II
B But that which remains, I would say concerning both cities, is this: that from this city, just as from our own, one may seek out both delight and benefit from the works of those ancients. It is possible to admire the works of men, and it is possible, conversely, to despise them and count them as nothing. For if anyone, looking at these things, were to ponder the empire and the power of Rome, and the dignity of those men, and their deeds, and their pursuits; and then were to see all those things to which they have come, so that not only they themselves, but their authority, and empire, and the cities themselves nearly died—for as someone says, "cities also die"—what then would he count these human affairs to be? How could he be puffed up if he were fortunate, or dejected if he were unfortunate? At what would he pride himself? What in human affairs would he count of great importance?
Frequently, when I cross these triumphal roads, I keep in mind the kings and princes and the others from Armenia or Persia or from other most remote regions, led as captives through this place. I think as well of the war leaders triumphing over them, and what their state of mind was, and what delight they perceived; and on the contrary, what the state of mind of those captives was. I think of the crowd of the city standing by and surrounding them, and the throng of those watching from above the houses; to this, the concert of instruments, the roaring, the acclamations and applause, and the delight of these men over a victory won in such distant regions, and on the other hand, the sorrow of those captives and their friends in their homeland over the defeat and such a spectacle, and the distinct condition of both sides as it was then believed to be; and how these seemed to others and to themselves most wretched and unhappy, while the others seemed happy and blessed. C But now all these things are equal; all are reduced to dust; and you would not know the fortune of Pompey or Lucullus any better than that of Mithridates or Tigranes.
Indeed, even the houses themselves, and the statues, and the buildings have been reduced to dust; these, to the extent that they still stand out, do so only in that the ground by which they are covered is not everywhere level, but rises into a mound. Many of the statues of these happy and blessed victors, together with their trophies and laurels, one may see cast down and wallowing in the mud and mire, some broken and rent asunder, not a few others providing the service of lime or plaster or even of stones for other buildings. But as for those to which a better lot has fallen, having lost their primal form—as Aristotle calls it—they serve as a step or stool for those mounting a horse, or as a wall base, or as an ass's or ox's manger; D mostly scattered, as I said, and broken. Other statues, thorns and brambles or shrubs spring up on all sides...
and mangled, as I said, and broken apart. Some are hidden by thorns and briars, or by bushes that have grown up and do not allow them to be seen. Countless others are buried under the earth before they can be placed in some bright and lofty spot, that they might be visible to the many, whether in the Capitol, or upon the Acropolis, or in the marketplace. And those who attained these—whether I speak of the deed or the embassy—thought they had met with great fortune. We know how Pindar speaks in his odes of those who were victorious at the Isthmus, or Nemea, or Olympia, proclaiming them godlike and blessed, for having deserved to be crowned with parsley, or oak leaves, or wild olive after so many and such great labors. But the honors of statues can in no way be compared with these; so much so, that whatever cities or men—whether they be princes, or private citizens, or even kings themselves—do not embrace true and divine virtue, all human things among them are truly vain: some bring delight, others consolation, and not a few bring pain. But I seem to myself to be in my own country; and in order that this impression may increase—that which is the greatest and most pleasant thing to me there, namely the sight of you and speaking with you—I contrive by whatever means I can, through frequent remembrance of you, and through letters written to you, and through the accounts of others concerning you, to bring you to myself; and for this reason, as you see, I have spoken at length to your Highness, both to others frequently and to you. And I think that those who toil for their country, whether they themselves manage the affairs or suffer adversity, will receive an eternal reward. Remember this reward, O Emperor. And may you yourself and your own people preserve that city which has become the best under the sun, and lead it toward prosperity. We too shall be partners and co-workers with you in the deeds and labors for its sake, as is fitting for loyal subjects to do for philanthropic and good lords, to the extent of their power. For this will be my greatest pleasure, whether I am present or absent, seeing or hearing, living or dead. But for now, O Emperor, forgive my prolixity. Farewell. B
Manuel Chrysoloras to Ioannes Chrysoloras, Greeting.
To me, Rome begins to seem more pleasant from the time I began to receive frequent letters in this city from my kin, and especially from you; just as I think it will also be a pleasure for you, if you receive from me letters sent from here. For first of all, the very name of the city, just as it once happened to me, rings pleasantly in the ears of the listeners. And how should we not both rejoice? I, to whom it is given, while living among foreigners—though in another city that shares the name of my homeland—to enjoy the sole consolation of epistolary commerce with my kin; and you, who receive from me the letters sent from this city? While I traverse this city daily, and now survey one thing and now another with my eyes, I seem to myself to be living in our own city, however far distant I may be from it. Whenever I ascend to some unaccustomed place, say some hill, from which this city of ours also is called the City of Seven Hills, and view the whole...
of it, I no longer imagine myself to be in Italy and Latium, but in the very place that gave birth to it. I look for our house to see in which part of the city it stands, and for the hanging garden within it, and for any other landmark of that place, and for our cypresses. I once heard it said that this city was modeled after that one, and now I see it accurately. For what is there in this city, to put it simply, that has not also come into being among us? Are there no temples, no porticoes? No hippodromes? No palaces? No theaters? And amidst these very things, are there no stones and columns that are conspicuous, where one wonders how they were originally hewn from the quarries, how they were transported, and how they were raised? Are there not all kinds of marbles, capable of being mirrors better than any other material? Are there no images, no stelai, no statues? No obelisks? Yet, in this—I mean in the number of stone statues, and the artistry concerning them, and the sepulchers of the ancients—it seems to surpass our own. Let us consider the art of the mosaics on the walls, and the beauty from them. Just as stone statues and relief-carved sarcophagi are rare among us, so in this city, most of these very statues and sarcophagi have come from Greece—works of Phidias and Praxiteles and their peers, as one can accurately see from the letters engraved upon them, which reveal the craftsman; so that, often seeing these, I have called to mind that saying of Synesius. In his letter to his brother, I believe—for I do not remember it well—writing from Greece and describing his arrival in Athens, he says after much else: "I saw the Lyceum; I saw the Stoa; I saw the Poikile, which was no longer the Poikile, for the proconsul had carried off the panels." I myself have seen there Greek letters of ancient origin engraved on the marbles, which anyone who saw them would say had been brought here from Athens and the rest of Greece. Thus I find six hundred Greek sculptures or inscriptions, such that even a tomb which bears a Latin inscription presents this verse in the Greek tongue: "Well done, Priscianus; no one is immortal." Add to this the tombs of matrons and freedwomen, which display the names of the long-famed stonecutters engraved in Greek lettering, concerning whom it would be long and absurd to discourse here at length. Truly, one reads in historical records that this city was once inhabited no less by Greeks than by Italians, who indeed know for the most part how to speak Greek, and thus, through this commonality of dialect, have brought it about that many Greeks have chosen this as their home. And because, eventually, the diversity of the race would have brought about trouble, especially when a union of both nations was a sought-after and essential thing—where, beyond the same customs, the same spirit and the same ambition bound everyone together! It is indeed sad to state and to believe that most people do not know that the Christian faith, common to both, was therefore the most ancient bond of all in this matter. But this is not the place or time for such a discourse. But I will say it again: Rome will please me in a wonderful way if I receive frequent letters from you, and it will be no less pleasing to you yourselves to read mine. Indeed, I am already fulfilling this duty, or rather I have fulfilled it most fully since I came here; but I also receive yours, which are not rare. Farewell.
γένει ; τί καὶ μετὰ τὴν ἐπιγενομένην οὐ τῶν ἠθῶν μόνον, ἀλλὰ καὶ τῶν ψυχῶν καὶ τῶν δοξῶν ὁμόνοιαν, τοσούτων συναγόντων αὐτούς; Εἰ δὲ βούλει, τοσούτου πράγματος τῆς εἰς Θεὸν πίστεως αὐτοὺς συνάπτοντος ἀγνοεῖν ἔπεισεν ἀλλήλους. Καὶ τοῦτο δὲ αὐτὸ τοὺς πλείστους ἀγνοεῖν αὐτῶν, ὅτι ἤνωνται ἐν τοῖς μεγίστοις, ὄντως ἄξιον στενάξαι. ᾿Αλλὰ περὶ τούτων μὲν οὐ τοῦ παρόντος καιροῦ λέγειν. “Ο δὲ ἔλεγον, ἐμοί τε γλυκίων ἡ ᾽Ρώμη πάντως φανήσεται, συχνὰ παρ' ὑμῶν γράμματα δεχομένῳ· καὶ ὑμῖν ἡδονὴν ἕξει, ἐντεῦθεν ἐμοῦ ἀκούουσι διαλεγομένου. Τὸ μὲν οὖν ἐμὸν αὐτὸς ἤδη ποιῶ, καὶ πεποίηκε δὲ ἐξότου δεῦρο ἀφῖγμαι, διὰ πολλῶν. Ἐκδέχομαι δὲ καὶ τὰ παρ' ὑμῶν ἤδη διὰ πολλῶν. Ὑγίαινε.
A
III. Μανουὴλ Χρυσολωρᾶς Δημητρίῳ Χρυσολωρᾷ, ἀνδρῶν ἀρίστῳ καὶ περιφανεστάτῳ, χαίρειν.
Ἄρα δύνασαι πιστεῦσαι περὶ ἐμοῦ, ὡς ἐγὼ τὴν πόλιν ταύτην περιών, κατὰ τοὺς ἐρωτολήπτους τούτους καὶ κωμαστὸς τοὺς ὀφθαλμοὺς ὧδε κἀκεῖσε περιφέρω, καὶ τοὺς τῶν οἰκιῶν τοίχους εἰς ὕψος, καὶ τὰς ἐν αὐταῖς θυρίδας περιεργάζομαι, εἴ τί που τῶν καλῶν ἴδοιμι παρ' ἐκείναις; Τοῦτο γὰρ νέος μὲν ὤν, ὡς οἶσθα, οὐκ ἐποίουν, καὶ τοῖς ποιοῦσιν ἐμεμφόμην. Νῦν δὲ ὠμογέρων ἤδη γενόμενος, οὐκ οἶδ' ὅπως εἰς τοῦτο ἐξηνέχθην. Αἴνιγμά σοι δοκῶ λέγειν· ἄκουε δὲ τὴν λύσιν τοῦ αἰνίγματος καὶ τῆς ἀπορίας· ἐγὼ γὰρ οὐ ζώντων σωμάτων κάλλη ἐν ἐκείνοις ζητῶν τοῦτο ποιῶ, ἀλλὰ λίθων, καὶ μαρμάρων, καὶ ὁμοιωμάτων. Φαίης ἂν ἴσως τοῦτο εἶναι ἀτοπώτερον ἐκείνου, καὶ ἐμὲ δὲ πολλάκις τοῦτο λογίσασθαι ἐπῆλθε· τί δήποτε ἵππον μὲν ἢ κύνα λέοντα καθημέραν ζῶντα ὁρῶντες, οὐ πρὸς θαῦμα ἐγειρόμεθα, οὐδὲ τοσοῦτον αὐτὰ ἀγάμεθα τοῦ κάλλους, οὔτε μὴν τὴν ὄψιν αὐτῶν περὶ πολλοῦ ποιούμεθα, οὐδὲ δένδρον, ἢ ἰχθύν, ἢ ἀλεκτρυόνα, ταὐτὸ δὲ καὶ ἐπ᾽ ἀνθρώπων, τινὰ δὲ αὐτῶν καὶ μυσαττόμεθα, ἵππου δὲ εἰκόνα ὁρῶντες, ἢ βοὸς, ἢ φυτοῦ τινος, ἢ ὄρνιθος, ἢ ἀνθρώπου, εἰ δὲ βούλει μυίας, ἢ σκώληκας, ἢ ἐμπίδος, ἢ τινὸς τῶν αἰσχρῶν τούτων, σφόδρα διατιθέμεθα ὁρῶντες τούτων τὰς εἰκόνας, περὶ πολλοῦ ποιούμεθα. Καίτοι οὐ ταῦτα δήπου ἀκριβέστερα ἐκείνων, ἄγε παρὰ τοσοῦτον ἐπαινεῖται, παρ' ὅσον ὁμοιότερα ἐκείνοις φαίνεται. B Ἀλλ' ὅμως ταῦτα μὲν καὶ τὰ τούτων κάλλη παρατρέχομεν παρ' ὄντα, ταῖς δὲ ἐκείνων εἰκόσιν ἐκπληττόμεθα· καὶ τὸ μὲν τοῦ ζῶντος ὄρνιθος ρύγχος ὅπως εὐφυῶς κέκαμπται, ἢ τὴν ὁπλὴν τοῦ ζῶντος ἵππου οὐ πολυπραγμονοῦμεν· τὴν δὲ χαίτην τοῦ χαλκοῦ λέοντος, εἰ καλῶς ἤπλωται, ἢ τὰ φύλλα τοῦ λιθίνου δένδρου, εἰ τὰς ἶνας παρεμφαίνει, ἢ τὴν τοῦ ἀνδριάντος κνήμην, εἰ τὰ νεῦρα καὶ τὰς φλέβας ὑποδείκνυσιν ἐπὶ τοῦ λίθου, τοῦτο τοὺς ἀνθρώπους τέρπει, καὶ πολλοὶ πολλοὺς ἂν ἵππους ζῶντας καὶ ἀκεραίους ἀσμένως ἔδωκαν, ὥστε ἕνα λίθινον τὸν Φειδίου ἢ τὸν Πραξιτέλους, καὶ τοῦτον εἰ τύχοι διεῤῥωγότα καὶ λελωβημένον ἔχειν. Καὶ τὰ μὲν τῶν ἀγαλμάτων καὶ ζωγραφιῶν κάλλη οὐκ αἰσχρὸν θεᾶσθαι, μᾶλλον δὲ καὶ εὐγένειάν τινα τῆς θαυμαζούσης ταῦτα διανοίας ὑποφαίνει· τὰ δὲ τῶν γυναικῶν κάλλη ακόλαστον καὶ αἰσχρόν. Τί δή τούτου τὸ αἴτιον; Ὅτι οὐ σωμάτων κάλλη θαυμάζομεν ἐν τούτοις, ἀλλὰ νοῦ κάλλος τοῦ πεποιηκότος. Ὅτι καθάπερ κηρὸς καλῶς διαπλασθεὶς ἂν ἔλαβε διὰ τῶν ὀμμάτων ἐπὶ τοῦ φανCερῶς, καὶ οὕτω τοῦ περιέχοντος ἡμᾶς ἀέρος, καὶ D πρὸς τὴν τῆς ψυχῆς διάνοιαν ἦλθε, καὶ ἐκεῖνον αὐτῆς ἀπεμάξατο τὸν τύπον, οὕτω καὶ ὁ τεχνίτης, ὡς ἐκ τοῦ νοῦ τὸ κάλλος λαβὼν τῆς ἐμφύτου τέχνης, ὁμοῦ τε τῇ χειρὶ καὶ τῷ ἐργαλείῳ τὴν ὕλην διαπλάττει.