§ 3.1  Letter 3: To his Brother
Aeschines had already been interred three days when his niece came to visit his tomb for the first time. Custom, you know, does not permit girls to attend funerals once they are engaged to be married. However, even then she was dressed in purple, with a transparent veil over her hair, and she had decked herself with gold and precious stones that she might not be a sign of evil omen to her betrothed. Seated upon a chair with double cushions and silver feet, so they say, she railed against the untimeliness of this misfortune, on the ground that Aeschines should have died either before her wedding or after it, and she was angry with us because we were in grief. Scarcely waiting for the seventh day, on which we had met for the funeral banquet, she mounted her mule car, in company with that talkative old nurse of hers, and, when the forum was thronged, set out on her stately course for Taucheira with all her adornments. Next week she is preparing to display herself crowned with fillets, and with a towering head-dress like Cybele.
[2] We are in no way wronged by this except in the fact, patent to the whole world, that we have relations with very bad taste. The one who has been wronged is Harmonius, the father of her janitor, as Sappho might say, a man who although wise and moderate in all respects in his own life, vied with Cecrops himself on the ground of noble birth.
[3] The granddaughter of this man, himself greater than Cecrops, her uncle and janitor Herodes has now given away to the Sosiae and Tibii. Perchance they are right who extol the future bridegroom to us because of his mother, pointing to his descent from the famous Lais. Now Lais was an Hyccarian slave brought from Sicily, according to one historian; whence this mother of fair offspring, who bore the famous man. She of old lived an irregular life with a shipmaster for her owner — afterwards with an orator, who also owned her, and after these in the third instance with a fellow-slave, at first secretly in the town, then conspicuously, and was a mistress of her art. When by reason of oncoming wrinkles she gave up the practice of her art, she trained in her calling the young persons whom she palmed off on strangers. Her son, the orator, asserts that he is dispensed by the law from the duty of supporting a mother who is beyond the pale. Out upon such a law! The mother has been clearly revealed to those thus born: it is only the other parent that is doubtful. All the care that is due to both parents from those born in wedlock should be bestowed by the fatherless on the mother alone.

§ 4.1  Letter 4: To his Brother
Although we started from Bendideum at early dawn, we had scarcely passed Pharius Myrmex by noonday, for our ship went aground two or three times in the bed of the harbor. This mishap at the very outset seemed a bad omen, and it might have been wiser to desert a vessel which had been unlucky from the very start. But we were ashamed to lay ourselves open to an imputation of cowardice from you, and accordingly
It was no longer granted us to tremble or to withdraw.
[2] So now, if misfortune awaits us, we shall perish through your fault. After all, was it so dreadful that you should be laughing and we out of danger? But of Epimetheus they aver that
His prudence was at fault, his repentance never,
and that is precisely our own case, for we might easily have saved ourselves in the first instance; whereas now we are lamenting in concert on desert shores, gazing out towards Alexandria to our heart’s content, and towards our motherland Cyrene; one of these places we willfully deserted, while the other we are unable to reach — all the time having seen and suffered such things as we never thought to happen even in our dreams.
[3] Hear my story then, that you may have no further leisure for your mocking wit, and I will tell you first of all how our crew was made up. Our skipper was fain of death owing to his bankrupt condition; then besides him we had twelve sailors, thirteen in all! More than half of them, including the skipper, were Jews — a graceless race and fully convinced of the piety of sending to Hades as many Greeks as possible. The remainder were a collection of peasants who even as late as last year had never gripped an oar.

§ 4.4  But the one batch and the other were alike in this, that every man of them had some personal defect. Accordingly, so long as we were in safety they passed their time in jesting one with another, accosting their comrades not by their real names, but by distinguishing marks of their misfortunes, as to call out the "Lame", the "Ruptured", the "Lefthanded", the "Goggle-eyed". Each one had his distinguishing mark, and to us this sort of thing was no small source of amusement. The moment we were in danger, however, it was no laughing matter, but rather did we bewail these very defects.
[5] We had embarked to the number of more than fifty, about a third of us being women, most of them young and comely. Do not, however, be quick to envy us, for a screen separated us from them and a stout one at that, the suspended fragment of a recently torn sail, to virtuous men the very wall of Semiramis. Nay, Priapus himself might well have been temperate had he taken passage with Amarantus, for there was never a moment when this fellow allowed us to be free from fear of he uttermost danger.
[6] As soon as he had doubled the temple of Poseidon, near you, he made straight for Taphosiris, with all sails spread, to all seeming bent upon confronting Scylla, over whom we were all wont to shudder in our boyhood when doing our school exercises. This maneuver we detected only just as the vessel was nearing the reefs, and we all raised so mighty a cry that perforce he gave up his attempt to battle with the rocks. All at once he veered about as though some new idea had possessed him, and turned his vessel's head to the open, struggling as best he might against a contrary sea.
[7] Presently, a fresh south wind springs up and carries us along, and soon we are out of sight of land and have come into the track of the double-sailed cargo vessels, whose business does not lie with our Libya; they are sailing quite another course. Again we make common cause of complaint, and our grievance now is that we have been forced away far from the shore. Then does this Titan of ours, Amarantus, fulminate, standing up on the stern and hurling awful imprecations upon us. "We shall obviously never be able to fly," he said, "How can I help people like you who distrust both the land and the sea?"

§ 4.8  "Nay," I said, "Not so, worthy Amarantus, in case anyone uses them rightly. For our own part we had no yearning for Taphosiris, for we wanted only to live. Moreover," I continued, "What do we want of the open sea? Let us rather make for the Pentapolis, hugging the shore; for then, if indeed we have to face one of those uncertainties which, as you admit, are unfortunately only too frequent on the deep, we shall at least be able to take refuge in some neighboring harbor."
[9] I did not succeed in persuading him with my talk, for to all of it the outcast only turned a deaf ear; and what is more, a gale commenced to blow from the north, and the violent wind soon raised seas mountains high. This gust falling suddenly on us, drove our sail back, and made it concave in place of its convex form, and the ship was all but capsized by the stern. With great difficulty, however, we headed her in.
[10] Then Amarantus thunders out, "See what it is to be master of the art of navigation. I had long foreseen this storm, and that is why I sought the open. I can tack in now, since our sea room allows us to add to the length of our tack. But such a course as the one I have taken would not have been possible had we hugged the shore, for in that case the ship would have dashed on the coast."
[11] Well, we were perforce satisfied with his explanation so long as daylight lasted and dangers were not imminent, but these failed not to return with the approach of night, for as the hours passed, the seas increased continually in volume. Now it so happened that this was the day on which the Jews make what they term the "Preparation", and they reckon the night, together with the day following this, as a time during which it is not lawful to work with one's hands. They keep this day holy and apart from the others, and they pass it in rest from labor of all kinds.

§ 4.12  Our skipper accordingly let go the rudder from his hands the moment he guessed that the sun's rays had left the earth, and throwing himself prostrate,
Allowed to trample upon him what sailor so desired.
[13] We who at first could not understand why he was thus lying down, imagined that despair was the cause of it all. We rushed to his assistance and implored him not to give up the last hope yet. Indeed the hugest waves were actually menacing the vessel, and the very deep was at war with itself. Now it frequently happens that when the wind has suddenly relaxed its violence, the billows already set in motion do not immediately subside; they are still under the influence of the wind's force, to which they yield an with which they battle at the same time, and the oncoming waves fight against those subsiding.
[14] I have every need of my store of flaming language, so that in recounting such immense dangers I may not fall into the trivial. To people who are at sea in such a crisis, life may be said to hang by a thread only, for if our skipper proved at such a moment to be an orthodox observer of the Mosaic law, what was life worth in the future? Indeed we soon understood why he had abandoned the helm, for when we begged him to do his best to save the ship, he stolidly continued reading his roll. Despairing of persuasion, we finally attempted force, and one staunch soldier — for many Arabs of the cavalry were of our company — one staunch soldier, I say, drew his sword and threatened to behead the fellow on the spot if he did not resume control of the vessel. But the Maccabaean in very deed was determined to persist in his observances.
[15] However, in the middle of the night he voluntarily returned to the helm. "For now," he said, "We are clearly in danger of death, and the law commands." On this the tumult sprang up afresh, groaning of men and shrieking of women. All called upon the gods, and cried aloud; all called to mind those they loved. Amarantus alone was in good spirits, for he thought to himself that now at last he would foil his creditors. For myself, amidst those horrors, I swear to you by the god sacred to philosophy, that the only thing that troubled me was a passage from Homer.

§ 4.16  I feared that were my body once swallowed up in the waves, the soul itself also might eternally perish, for somewhere in his epic he writes:
Ajax perished, once he had drunk of the briny wave,
bearing witness to the fact that death at sea is the most grievous way of perishing, for in no other case does the poet speak of annihilation, but of everyone who dies the phrase is "he went to Hades".
[17] Thus in the two books of the Nekyiai, the lesser Ajax is not brought into the narrative, for this very reason, that his soul is not in Hades; and again, Achilles, the most high-spirited and the most daring of all, shrinks from death by drowning and refers to it as a pitiable ending.
[18] As I was musing in this fashion, I noticed that all soldiers on board were standing with drawn swords. On inquiring the reason for this, I learned from them that they regarded it as more honorable to belch out their souls to the winds while still on the deck, than to gape them out to the waves. These men are by nature true descendants of Homer, I thought, and I entirely approved their view of the matter.
[19] Then someone loudly proclaimed that everyone possessing gold should suspend it about the neck, and those who possessed it did so, as well as those who had anything of the value of gold. The women themselves put on their jewelry, and distributed cords to those who needed them: such is the time-honored custom. Now this is the reason for it. It is a matter of necessity that the corpse from a shipwreck should carry with it a fee for burial, inasmuch as whosoever comes across the dead body and profits by it, will fear the laws of Adrasteia, and will scarcely grudge sprinkling a little sand on the one who has given him so much more in value.

§ 4.20  So then they occupied themselves, but I sat solemnly apart, my thoughts fixed on the heavy sum of money which my host had deposited with me. I was lamenting, not so much my approaching death, — the god of hospitality be my witness! — as the sum of money which would be lost to this Thracian before whom, even when dying, I should feel shame. I came to the point of regarding it as a luxury to die in the fullest sense of the word, above all to perish in such a way as to escape all consciousness hereafter.
[21] Now what made death gape at our feet was the fact that the ship was running with all sails spread, and that there was no means of taking them in, for as often as we attempted this we were thwarted by the ropes, which stuck in the pulleys; and again we had a secret fear lest in the night time, even if we lived out the sea, we should approach land in this sorry plight.
[22] But day broke before all this had time to occur, and never, I know, did we behold the sun with greater joy. The wind grew more moderate as the temperature became milder, and thus, as the moisture evaporated, we were able to work the rigging and handle the sails. We were unable, it is true, to replace our sail by a new one, for this was already in the hands of the pawnbroker, but we took it in like the swelling folds of a garment, and lo, in four hours' time we who had imagined ourselves already in the jaws of death, were disembarking in a remote desert place, possessing neither town nor farm near it, only an expanse of open country of one hundred and thirty stadia.
[23] Our ship was riding in the open sea, for the spot was not a harbor, and it was riding on a single anchor. The second anchor had been sold. And a third Amarantus did not possess. When now we touched the dearly beloved land, we embraced the earth as a real living mother. We sent up hymns of gratitude to Providence, as is our custom, and to all this we added a mention of the present good fortune by which we had been saved contrary to all expectation.

§ 4.24  Thus we waited two days until the sea should have abated its fury. When, however, we were unable to discover any way out by land, for we could find no one in the country, we decided to try our fortune again at sea. We straightway started at dawn with a wind which blew from the stern all that day and the following one, but towards the end of this second day the wind left us and we were in despair. However, only too soon should we be longing for a calm.
[25] It was the thirteenth day of the waning moon, and a great danger was now impending, I mean the conjunction of certain constellations and those well known chance events which no one, they say, ever confronted at sea with impunity. So at the very moment when we should have stayed in harbor, we so far forgot ourselves as to run out again to sea. The storm opened with north winds and with heavy rain during the moonless night, presently the winds raged without measure, and the sea became deeply churned up.
[26] As to ourselves, exactly what you might expect at such a crisis took place. I will not dilate a second on the identical sufferings, I will only say that the very magnitude of the storm was helpful. First the sailyard began to crack, and we thought of tightening up the vessel; then it broke in the middle and very nearly killed us all. It seems that this very accident, failing to destroy us, was the means of our salvation. We should never have been able to resist the force of the wind, for again the sail was intractable and defied all our efforts to take it in. Contrary to all prevision we had shaken off the rapacious violence of our enforced run, and we carried along during a day and a night, and at the second crowing of the cock, before we knew it, behold we were on a sharp reef which ran out from the land like a short peninsula.
[27] Then a shout went up, for someone passed the word that we should had gone aground on the shore itself. There was much shouting and very little agreement. The sailors were terrified, whereas we through inexperience clapped our hands and embraced each other. We could not sufficiently express our great joy. And yet this was accounted the most formidable of the dangers that had beset us.

§ 4.28  Now when day appeared, a man in rustic garb signaled and pointed out which were the places of danger, and those that we might approach in safety. Finally, he came out to us in a boat with two oars, and this he made fast to our vessel. Then he took over the helm, and our Syrian gladly relinquished to him the conduct of the ship. So after proceeding not more than fifty stadia, he brought her to anchor in a delightful little harbor, which I believe is called Azarium and there disembarked us on the beach. We acclaimed him as our savior and good angel.
[29] A little while later, he brought in another ship, and then again another, and before evening had fallen, we were in all five vessels saved by this godsent old man, the very reverse of Nauplius in his actions, for the latter received the shipwrecked in a vastly different manner. On the following day, other ships arrived, some of which had put out from Alexandria the day before we set sail. So now we are quite a great fleet in a small harbor.
[30] Now provisions began to run short. So little accustomed were we to such accidents and so little had we anticipated a voyage of such length, that we had not brought sufficient stock and, what is more, we had not husbanded what we had on board. The old man had a remedy for this also. He did not give us anything himself, and he certainly did not look like one who had possessions. But he pointed out rocks to us where, he said, breakfast and supper were hidden away for those willing to work for it daily. Forthwith we set ourselves to fishing, and we have lived on the produce of our sport now seven days. The more stalwart of our party hunted out eels and lobsters of great size, and the children made a great game of catching gudgeons and shrimps. As to the Roman monk and myself, we fortified ourselves with limpets, a concave shell which attaches itself very firmly on the rocks.
[31] In the first stages of this life or ours we fared ill enough. Everyone kept avariciously whatever he could get hold of, and no one gave a present to his neighbor, but now we have abundance, and this is how it all happened. The Libyan women would have offered even bird's milk to the women of our party. They bestowed upon them all the products of earth and air alike; to wit, cheeses, flour, barley cakes, lamb, poultry, and eggs; one of them even made a present of a bustard, a bird of very delicious flavor. A yokel would call it at first sight a peacock.

§ 4.32  They bring these presents to the ship, and our women accept them and share them with those who wish it. At present they who go fishing have become generous — a man, a child comes to me one after another, and makes me a present, now a fish caught on the line, invariably some dainty that the rocks produce. To please you I take nothing from the women, that there may be no truce between them and me, and that I may be in no difficulty about denial, when I have to abjure all connection with them.
[33] And yet what was to hinder me from rejoicing in necessities? So much comes in from all sides. The kindness of the inhabitants of the country towards their women guests you probably attribute to their virtue alone. Such is not the case; and it is worth while to explain all this to you, particularly as I have so much leisure. The wrath of Aphrodite, it would seem, lies heavy on the land; the women are as unlucky as the Lemnians; their breasts are overfull and they have disproportionately large chests, so that the infants obtain nourishment held not by the mother's arm, but by her shoulder, the nipple being turned upwards.
[34] One might of course maintain that Ammon and the country of Ammon is as good a nurse of children as of sheep, and that nature has there endowed cattle and humanity alike with fuller and more abundant fountains of milk, and so to that end are ampler breasts and reservoirs needed. Now, when these women hear from men who have had commerce with others beyond the frontier, that all women are not like this, they are incredulous. So when they fall in with a foreign woman, they make up to her in every way until they have gained their object, which is to examine her bosom, and then the woman who has examined the stranger tells another, and they call one another like the Cicones, they flock together to the spectacle and bring presents to them.
[35] We happened to have with us a young female slave who came from Pontus. Art and nature had combined to make her more highly chiseled than an ant. All the stir was about this one, and she made much gain from the women, and for the last three days the richest in the neighborhood have been sending for her, and have passed her from one to the other. She was so little embarrassed that she readily exhibited herself in undress.

§ 4.36  So much for my story. The divinity has shaped it for you in mingling the comic with the tragic element. I have done likewise in the account I have given to you. I know this letter is too long, but as when with you face to face, so in writing to you I am insatiable, and as it is by no means certain that I shall be able to talk with you again, I take all possible pleasure in writing to you now. Moreover, by fitting this letter into my diary, about which I take great pains, I shall have the reminiscences of many days.
[37] Farewell; give my kindest messages to your son Dioscuros and to his mother and grandmother, both of whom I love and look upon as though they were my own sisters. Salute for me the most holy and revered philosopher, and give my homage also to the company of the blessed who delight in her oracular utterance. Above all to the holy Theotecnus, and my friend Athanasius. As to our most sympathetic Gaius, I well know that you, like myself, regard him as a member of our family.
[38] Do not forget to remember me to them, as also to Theodosius, who is not merely a grammarian of the first order, but one who, if he really be a diviner, has certainly succeeded in deceiving us. (He surely must have foreseen the incidents of this voyage, for he finally gave up his desire to come with me.) However, this is a matter that does not signify. I love and embrace him. [39] As for you, may you never trust yourself to the sea, or at least, if you really must do, let it not be at the end of a month.

§ 32.1  Letter 32: To his Brother
The man I quite ignorantly bought as a teacher of gymnastics from the heirs of Theodorus, was a slave both in name and in nature. He was worthless from the beginning, badly born and badly brought up, nor had he failed to receive a training worthy of his natural bent. From his childhood he had wallowed in cock-fighting, in gambling, and in drinking at taverns. Today, as Lysias would say, all is up with him, he has attained his goal, he is the very limit of all that is unsavory. He cares not in the very least for Hermes and Herakles, the guardians of the palaestra, but serves Cotytto and the other Attic gods of lechery, and whatever other demons of that stamp there may be.
[2] All these are his, and he is theirs. I have no idea of punishing him in any other way than this. Vice is a sufficient penalty in itself for the vicious, but as a proved wretch of this sort is quite unfit to live with masters who are philosophers, and whom shame haunts in their homes because of such, let him be banished from the city that harbors us. At the sight of this debauchee swaggering through the forum, garlanded, perfumed, and drunken, giving way to every excess and singing aloud songs of a piece with the life he leads, everyone naturally attributes the fault to his owner.
[3] Contrive, therefore, some way of handing him over to the captain of a ship, to take him to his native land, for that country may tolerate him with more reason. But during the voyage by all means tie him upon the deck. If he is allowed to go down below, let no one be surprised to find many wine jars half empty. And if the voyage is prolonged, he will drain the perfumed liquid to the dregs.

§ 32.4  Furthermore, he might incite the whole crew to do these very things, for in addition to other motives, evil is most persuasive when it assumes the leadership for enjoyment's sake. And of those who sail in the ocean for pay, who is so austere as not to give way to the dissipation at the sight of this pest dancing the cordax as he passes round the cup? He is an adept in every sort of buffoonery, and the captain of the ship must steel himself against him. Odysseus indeed passed by the shore of the Sirens fast bound, that he might not succumb to pleasure, and this wretch too will be bound, if the crew are wise, that he may not destroy the ship's company with indulgences.

§ 41.1  Letter 41: To a Friend
I have hired a ship for you furnished with a crew of sailors of good stock, sailors who trust more to skill than chance in navigation.
[2] These vessels of the Carpathians have the reputation of being endowed with intelligence, as were the famed ships of the Phaeacians before the wrath of the gods beat upon their island.

§ 44.1  Letter 44: To Joannes
Many a time before this have I come to your assistance. I have softened the harshness of Fate for you, as on each occasion my power enabled me, both in word and deed. Today, in regard to your present situation, I desire to give you my advice only, for I am powerless to act in the matter. It is not right the Synesius, while he lives and has the power, should fail in eagerness to benefit his friends in every possible way. Hear then what it is befitting that I should say to you.
[2] If Rumor is a goddess, as one of our poets would have it, it was you who made away with the blessed Aemilius, not by any overt act of your own, but because you desired it. You prepared everything for this terrible drama, you selected the assassin, the most bloodthirsty of your band of ruffians. This is the story which Rumor has recounted, and it is not ordained that a divinity should lie.
[3] But if Hesiod's words are nothing, or words many but to no purpose, and if this thing concerning you is one of many (and would that it were so, for I hold loss in money of less moment than loss of a friend), if, I say, being innocent of the crime, you are yet evil spoken of, in that case you are an unfortunate man, but not a guilty one, and may you not be even so unfortunate! In the first case you would be deserving of lawful hatred as your portion, in the second case of piety.

§ 44.4  For my own part, I who am easily won by intimacy, should in that case hate your act, but none the less feel pity for you, and it is the part of one who has pity, to bear aid to the full extent of his power to find out where he thinks he may be of assistance. In either case I am bound to tell you what seems to me to be most in your own interests. Innocent or guilty, you will profit by the same advice from me.
[5] Go before the laws and give yourself up to the magistrate, together with all your henchmen, if you have any regard for them. If the crime was committed by you, pray, beg, supplicate, tire not of going down on your knees, even until the moment that judgment shall have been passed upon you, and you shall have been delivered up to an executioner, and shall have paid your penalty. If will be a blessing to you, my dear Joannes, that what has first been purified should so depart to the judges below.
[6] Do not think that my warning is a speech with any other sense than this. Do not imagine for a moment I am jesting with you; so may I have profit of sacred Philosophy, and of my own children besides. I should not have given you any such advice, if you had been no friend of mine, for I pray that this lot may not fall even to my enemies. As for them, may they never take the point of view that it is a nobler thing for the culprit voluntarily to undergo his punishment! May they on the contrary never forgo being prosperous in their sins, in order that they may live in them a longer time, and have to account for them all in that place below!
[7] For the sake of friendship I feel for you I am running the risk of revealing to you some of the mysteries. There is no resemblance between paying the penalty in this crass body and in paying it in the soul. God is a stronger force than man, and the human order of things is but a shadow of the divine organization.

§ 44.8  Now that same office which the public executioners, the hands of the law, fulfill in states, the avenging deities fulfill in the constitution of the universe. There are demons of purification who treat souls as fullers treat soiled garments. If these garments were endowed with consciousness, what would be their suffering, I ask you, while they were being trampled, washed, and combed in every way? With what pain would the old spots and clinging stains be washed away? I need scarcely say that in many cases the soiling is so deeply ingrained that it is irremovable, and the stuff will disappear before it returns to its proper form, because corruption has come into its nature, either on account of the lapse of time or the very greatness of the corruption.
[9] For a soul in such a state, to be perishable would be happiness indeed. But although there are sins which resemble spots that cannot be washed away, the soul is not like the soiled garment whose web does not resist destruction. Eternal as it is, its lot is eternal punishment when it becomes ingrained and incurably soiled with sin; but when it has already undergone punishment in that life in which it has sinned, it has not this [eternal] calamity clinging to it ever present, but as one might say, the soul, newly dyed, is quickly washed again.
[10] The penalty therefore ought to be paid as quickly as possible, and at the hands of the men, rather than at those of demons. A certain story is recounted, which persuades me that those who have been sinned against become the masters eventually — masters with power to lengthen or cut short the terms of punishment. Whether one has done a great injury to one, or a slight injury to many, the result will be very much the same, for each victim will put it in his own claims to vengeance, and each one must be satisfied. If a cure is possible, the punishment already undergone by the soul may mollify the Judge, and even incline the victims themselves to indulgence. When then is it likely that the blest soul of Aemilius may be inclined to grant you forgiveness?
[11] I think, or rather I know well, that every suppliant has a claim to respect, once he has expiated his errors by punishing himself. Ere now a man has been summoned before me to defend himself for a crime, and by haste in recognizing his guilt and admitting that he deserves punishment has won his acquittal; whereas to revel in one's crime is to turn into a sullen enemy the man whose life or fortune one has attacked. I think, or rather I know well, that every suppliant has a claim to respect, once he has expiated his errors by punishing himself. Ere now a man has been summoned before me to defend himself for a crime, and by haste in recognizing his guilt and admitting that he deserves punishment has won his acquittal; whereas to revel in one's crime is to turn into a sullen enemy the man whose life or fortune one has attacked.

§ 44.12  But now what will become of you, when you have left your body either by capital punishment or in some other way, when you recognize his soul with your own, and your tongue is unable to make denial, branded as you will be with the fresh-carved image of the event? Will you not be seized with dizziness? Will you not be at a loss? Silent, you will be hurried off. You will be exposed before the Judgment where we are all alike awaited, you, I, and all such as a public repentance has not first purified.
[13] Courage, then, my noble friend, for I wish you to be noble; despise not those pleasures which we purchase by wrong-doing. You must not be ashamed before men, but must confess everything to the magistrate, and endeavor to avert the punishment below by an immediate castigation. For while the greatest good is not to err, the next best is to take punishment for an error.
[14] The man who remains unpunished for longstanding sins should be deemed most unfortunate, as one cared for neither by God nor man.
[15] Again, look at it from this point of view. If immunity from punishment is recognized as an evil, punishment itself becomes a benefit, for contrary forces, according to all logic, produce contrary results. If I had only been with you, you would not have made difficulties about putting aside your shame and denouncing yourself. I should have directed myself to your defense, and I should have conducted you to the laws as to physicians. Some stupid fellow might have said, "Synesius is prosecuting Joannes", but you would have known the truth that if I brought the accusation it would be only by mercy and solicitude for you, and with the object of making you far better in your evil plight.

§ 44.16  These things I would do if you were guilty. May that not be true for your own sake and for that of the city, for there would be universal pollution therein, if fratricidal blood had been spilled; but if, on the other hand, you are pure in hand and soul — and may it be so — accursed be those who have brought false charges against you. Such men have infernal punishments waiting for them, for not other manner of evil is so abhorred by God as the slanderer who strikes in the dark. Such a low-minded man cries out much evil, and a certain fated obscenity is said to cling to that class, and to be the strongest element in the art.
[17] In many other ways such men are sophistical and adroit. So if anyone is found fabricating false reports, ask no questions, and entertain no doubts. However strong he may appear to be, expose him fearlessly as the effeminate wretch he is, the red-handed disciple of Cotys.
[18] It is in your power to secure a conviction for libel on account of these words, if you place yourself and your household at the disposal of the court. Go there and say, "There are certain people accusing me secretly, who, though self-condemned, attempt to remain concealed; but, nevertheless they are bringing many grave charges against me, and are likely to gain some credence, for they are intriguers, and adepts in giving plausibility to their story."
[19] Next let us go through the charges which are the basis of your evil repute, a marriage and an unholy assassination. Since it is said, I think, that a certain debauched wretch committed the murder, some creature in your pay, bring him forward, and beg and pray the court on bended knee not to let the fellow go without submitting him to cross-examination. Let him not be condemned in default. "Most worthy judges," you might say, "because no one has brought a charge against me in open court, it is less your duty to resort to every inquisition to pursue and hunt down the truth? Here is the debauched wretch so much talked about; you have your man. Apply your tortures. This man, if any crime has been committed, ought to be shown up this day as my accuser and his own."

§ 44.20  If, when you use such language, the judge does not yield to you, at all events it is sufficient for human beings like us. If, on the other hand, he should be benevolent and should thank you for your hearing of the case, you can then make a brilliant defense and the slanderers be put to shame and silenced. This wretch must not give himself airs; he should be bound and hung, and his ribs broken. Tortures are wonderfully efficient in exposing shams. These men possess iron nails which have the force of learned syllogisms, so that whatever is made manifest when they hold sway, this is truth itself.
[21] If such wise you are acquitted as an innocent man, you will then come back from the tribunal victorious and exultant, a shining light, and so regarded. Now that I have told you what course I think will be most benefit you, should you refuse to follow it and decline to appear before the tribunal, none the less Justice sees and knows the truth.
[22] The eye of the goddess, penetrating everywhere, saw Libya, saw the valley, and marked the rumor, whether it be true or false, saw Aemilius turn away in flight. What he suffered and from whom, what he said, what he heard (if indeed he said and heard aught), all this she knows. She knows also that, even admitting you to be blameless and pure before God, and that you have never committed this abominable deed nor premeditated it, she knows, I say, that even so you are not yet innocent in our eyes as men, so long as you have not made your formal defense.
[23] As matters stand, we will not shake hands with you nor eat at the same table with you, for we are in dread of the avenging Furies of Aemilius, lest by contact you may infect us with guilt. We, too, have our own stains — we do not need to take such contributions from others besides.

§ 51.1  Letter 51: To his Brother
Starting from Phykous at early dawn, late in the evening we stood in the Gulf of Erythra. There we stopped only a sufficient time to drink water and to take in a supply. Springs of pure, sweet water gush forth upon the very shore.
[2] As our Carpathians were in a hurry, we took to sea again. The wind was light, but it blew continually on our stern, so that where we expected to make nothing of a run each day, we made all we needed before we were aware of it.
[3] On the fifth day we perceived the beacon fire lit upon a tower to warn ships running too close. We accordingly disembarked more quickly than it takes to relate, on the island of Pharos, a poor island where there are neither trees nor fruit, but only salt marshes.

§ 52.1  Letter 52: To his Brother
They say that a fellow who sells boots has come from Athens. It is the same person, I think, from whom you bought for me last year some pierced slippers. Now, according to my information, he has extended the area of his trade; he has robes in the Attic style, he has light summer clothes which will become you, and mantles such as I like for the summer season.
[2] Before he sells all these goods, or at least the finest of them, invite the stranger here, for you must remember that the first purchaser will choose the best of everything, without troubling himself about those who come to buy after him, and buy for me three or four of these mantles. In any case, whatever you pay, I will repay you many times over.

§ 53.1  Letter 53: To his Brother
Prolixity in a letter argues a certain lack of intimacy with ourselves in the letter-carrier. But my good friend Acacius is as well informed as I myself, and he will tell you even more than he knows, because he is very fond of you, and has a tongue which rises above the facts. So I favor with you this letter, rather from the law of correspondence than from any necessity; but if I announce to you that your son Dioscurius is in good health, that he is reading books, and that he is glued to them, my letter itself will at all events have a certain value to you.
[2] I have given to Dioscurius a whole company of brothers, adding further a pair of many brothers for Hesychius. May God bestow his blessing on these, themselves, their brothers, their parents' house, the rest of their family, and their ancestral cities.

§ 54.1  Letter 54: To his Brother
A great number of people, either private individuals or priests, by moulding dreams, which they call revelations, seem likely to do me harm when I am awake, if I do not happen with all speed to visit sacred Athens. Whenever, then, you happen to meet a skipper sailing for the Piraeus, write to me, as it is there I shall receive my letters.
[2] I shall gain not only this by my voyage to Athens — an escape from my present evils, but also a relief from doing reverence to the learning of those who come back from Athens. They differ in no wise from us ordinary mortals. They do not understand Aristotle or Plato better than we, and nevertheless they go about among us as demi-gods among mules, because they have seen the Academy, the Lyceum, and the Stoa Poikile where Zeno gave his lectures on philosophy. However, the Poikile no longer deserves its name, for the proconsul has taken away all the pictures, and has thus humiliated these men's pretensions to learning.

§ 58.1  Letter 58: To the Bishops
Andronicus of Berenice, let no man call him a Christian — for he was born, nurtured, and grew up for the evil destiny of Pentapolis, having brought the rule of his country for his own — but accursed of God. Let him with his whole household be turned out of every church.
[2] The reason for this is, not that he has been the deadliest plague of Pentapolis, after an earthquake, an invasion of locusts, a pestilence, a conflagration of war; not that he methodically sought out the remaining victims of these disasters and introduced horrible kinds and fashions of punishment for the first time into the country (and would that I could say that he alone has made use of them). Not because of his instruments of torture to which I allude, that crush the fingers and feet, compress limbs, tweak the nose, and deform the ears and lips, of which things those who had forestalled the experience and the sight by perishing in the war, were adjudged happy by such as had by ill fate survived. The reason for this condemnation is that first among us, and alone of our number, he blasphemed Christ both in word and deed.
[3] In deed, for that he nailed upon the door of the church edicts of his own, in the which he denied to those whom he had ill-used the right of sanctuary at the inviolate table, threatening the priests of God with such things as even Phalaris the Agrigentine, and Cephren the Egyptian, and Sennacherib the Babylonian would have feared to menace, and the last of these sent envoys to Jerusalem to insult Hezekiah and God Himself. And this the sun looked down upon and men read it aloud.

§ 58.4  No Tiberius Claudius was administering the State, by whom Pilate sent to govern the Jews, but the sacred race of Theodosius was holding the scepter of the Romans, from which Andronicus had filched the ruling power for himself, animated by the same spirit as Pilate. Those written words were a matter for laughter to the unbelieving passers by, just as that which was written upon the Cross of Christ was to the Jews. And yet the inscription on the Cross, although proceeding from an impious mind, was at all events serious in its wording, since by it Christ was proclaimed 'King'. In this case, however, the tongue was in accord with the mind.
[5] But as to those things which followed after, they were even graver than those first placarded. For when he had found some pretext for proceeding against an enemy (there was indeed an enmity between them because the one was desirous of marriage which the other forbade), he sought to maltreat him with those unnatural tortures of his. May these never be handed down by the passage of time, but, as they begin with Andronicus, so may they disappear with him, and may these symbols of this man's rule survive to our posterity as a mere rumor.
[6] Now when a man of good birth, not an unjust one, but a man who has been unfortunate only, was tortured by these means, and that too in the full midday sun, that he might die with executioners only for witnesses, and when Andronicus himself became aware that the Church was in sympathy with this man — only because, the moment I heard of the facts, I myself rushed out, as I was, that I might be on the spot and share in bearing the trouble — when he hears of this, he flies into a rage that a bishop has dared to pity a man hated by himself. Then he indulges in all sorts of violent behavior, the boldest of his servants, Thoas, encouraging him, the tool he employs for this public outrages and finally he lets out in madness that most godless voice of his, saying that he has placed his hopes in the Church in vain, and that no one shall be torn from the hands of Andronicus, not even should he be embracing the foot of Christ Himself.
[7] We must be, both in mind and in body, pure before God. For these reasons the church of Ptolemais enjoins her sister churches everywhere in these terms:

§ 58.8  Let the precincts of no house of God be open to Andronicus and his associates, or to Thoas and his associates. Let every holy sanctuary and enclosure be shut in their faces. There is no part in Paradise for the Devil; even if he has secretly crept in, he is cast out.
[9] I exhort, therefore, every private individual and ruler not to be under the same roof with them, nor to be seated at the same time, particularly priests, for these shall neither speak to them while living, nor join in their funeral processions, when dead.
[10] Furthermore, if any one shall flout the authority of this church on the ground that it represents a small town only, and shall receive those who have been excommunicated by it, for that he need not obey that which is without wealth, let such a one know that he is creating a schism in the Church which Christ wishes to be one. Such a man, whether he be deacon, presbyter, or bishop, shall share the fate of Andronicus at our hands, and neither shall we give him our right hand, no even eat at the same table with him, and far be it from us to hold communion in the holy mysteries with those desiring to take part with Andronicus and Thoas.

§ 61.1  Letter 61: To Pylaemenes
I had a large Egyptian rug, not such as one could put below a bedspread, but one which might be used by itself as a bedspread. Asterius, the shorthand writer, saw it, and asked me for it, at the time when I was obliged to sleep in front of the Record Office. I promised to leave it to him as a present when I should go away, but naturally I could not gratify him in such a manner, exposed as I was to the Thracian snow. Now I am sending it off to him, for I did not leave it behind at the time.
[2] Would you be so kind as to give it to him for me, with an apology to the truth which you yourself shall witness, if you remember the circumstances which I left the town. God shook the earth repeatedly during the day, and most men were on their faces in prayer: for the ground was shaking. As I thought at the time that the open sea would be safer than the land, I rushed straight to the harbor without speaking to anyone except Photius of blessed memory, but I was content simply to shout to him from afar, and to make signs with my hand that I was going away. He who departed without saying good-bye to Aurelian, his dear friend and a consul, has certainly excused himself for having behaved in the same way to Asterius, an attendant.
[3] That is how it all happened, and though since my departure this vessel has been sent on her third voyage to Thracian parts, yet it is the first time that she is being sent by me. So I am now paying my debt through you on the first possible occasion. Be so kind as to find out this man for me.

§ 61.4  I first tell you his name and occupation, but you must have some further indications, as perchance there may be some one else with the same name and calling. All points are seldom found in one person, nor would a man be at once a Syrian by race, dark in color, aquiline in features, and medium in height. He dwells near the royal palace, not that palace which belongs to the state, but the one behind it which formerly belonged to Ablabius, and which now belongs to Placidia, the sister of our Emperors. If Asterius has changed his dwelling-place, for that is possible, you have only to seek Marcus. He is a well-known person, one of the Prefect's cohort. He was at that time at the very head of the company of shorthand writers of which Asterius was a member, and through his good offices you could find out this company. Asterius was not the last, but amongst the first few, the third or the fourth; possibly now he is the first.
[5] You will give him this thick rug, and say to him what we have said to you concerning the delay. And you may also, if you wish, read the letter itself to him, for military duties do not leave us time to write to him too; but nothing, I suppose, prevents us from being just. May weapons of war never have such power as that!

§ 67.1  Letter 67: To Theophilus
I desire, and a divine necessity urges me, to consider as law all that your sacred throne ordains. On this account, I have declined a sad duty, I have forced my body to action, while still under medical treatment, and have just journeyed through the suspected region as if it were unsuspected. I have traversed a country infested by the enemy, and have arrived at Palaebisca and Hydrax. (these are two villages of Pentapolis on the very frontier of arid Libya). Once there, I called together a meeting of the inhabitants; I gave them one letter, and I read to them from the other (one of them was addressed to them, the other, concerning them, addressed to me). I then delivered a speech suited to an election, hoping to induce them to propose the resolution concerning a bishop, or, if the case demanded it, to force them to such a decision; but I could not overcome this people's devotion to the most holy Paul. Believe me, my Father, it was no wish of mine to set out upon this quick and useless journey. I have only offended a people who held me in great honor.
[2] Amongst the most prominent citizens some protested with exclamations of wrath, while others, mounting upon any available pedestal to better be heard, addressed themselves at length to the gathering. I at once accused these of bribery and conspiracy, and ordered the ushers to hustle and to expel them from the meeting. I restrained and pacified the turbulent excitement of the crowd. I went through every path of argument; I invoked the sanctity of the Primate's throne, seeking to convince them that slight or honor to you means slight or honor to God. After this their lips pronounced the name of your sacred person with respect. They knelt down, they called upon you with cries and with groans, even as though you had been present. The emotion of these men, even though it was greater than I expected, was slight, but the women, who are proverbially difficult to control, lifted their arms, they raised their infants towards Heaven, they closed their eyes that they might not see the bishop's seat bereft of its accustomed occupant.
[3] Indeed, in spite of our policy being the very opposite, they almost compelled us to the same state of feeling. I feared that I should not have the power to resist the contagion, for I felt my inner emotions mastering me; so I dissolved the meeting, and announced that it should assemble again on the fourth day, not, however, without first pronouncing vengeful execrations upon any who by their venal conduct and from motives of purely personal interest, by their complacent attitude or from any other private motive, should use language in opposition to the will of the Church.

§ 67.4  The appointed day arrived, and the people were again there, hostile and contentious. They did not even wait for a discussion, but straightway all was in an uproar, a confused sound impossible to distinguish. At this moment the heralds of the church proclaimed silence. Their clamor then ended in a dirge, and there was a sullen sound of men groaning, of women wailing, and of children sobbing. One said he mourned a father, another a son, another a brother, each one according to his age divided the titles of relationship.
[5] I was just about to speak, when a petition was passed up to me from the midst of the crowd. This someone begged me to read before the assembly. It was an adjuration to me not to attempt to restrain their violence any longer, but to postpone my decision until they were enabled to send to your most blessed presence a decree touching the matter, and an ambassador. They even begged me to send to you a written statement in their behalf, explaining all that I had learned here.
[6] Now it was proclaimed in the Synod by the priests and publicly by the people, and the missive went through these very points in order, that these churches belonged to that of Erythrum, according to the Apostolic and patriarchal tradition, but split away under Orion of blessed memory, then in advanced old age and blamed for weakness of character. [7] This has always been a reproach in the eyes of those who consider that the priesthood should be a champion of men's affairs,

§ 67.8  But the election was positively unlawful, as I have learned from the older man, inasmuch as he was not duly consecrated either in Alexandria or by three here, even though the power to ordain had been granted there. Philo of blessed memory, they say, took upon himself to announce the election of his fellow-priest entirely upon his own responsibility. This Philo of Cyrene was the elder, the uncle, and the namesake of the younger. In other respects he was such as Christ's teachings had made him, but the moment there was a question of authority on the one hand and obedience on the other, he was more audacious than law-abiding. (I ask forgiveness from the sacred soul of the old man for such a remark.) He arrived on the spot, and took the ordaining of the blessed Siderius into his own hands, and placed him upon the bishop's throne.
[9] After all, one must relax the severe letter of the law in times when freedom of speech is impossible. Even the great Athanasius himself has been known to yield to the force of circumstances; and some little time after all this, when it was necessary to warm and kindle up the tiny spark of the orthodox faith that still remained in Ptolemais, and since Siderius seemed to him fit for so important a mission, he transferred him to this place, that he might govern the metropolitan Church. But old age brought back Siderius to the village churches. There he died, and had no successor in these towns anymore than he had had a predecessor. Palaebisca and Hydrax were put under the old arrangement and came back to their dependency upon Erythrum, and this, they say, was in accordance with the decision of your sacred person.
[10] Now the citizens are very strong upon one point, to wit: that this consecration of yours should not be annulled. I asked them for the original document signed by you. They were not able to present it to me, but they produced as witnesses bishops from the council. These said that they proposed Paul to the people in obedience to a letter received from you. As it seemed well to all to make him bishop, they reported the decision, and others succeeded in placing him on the throne.
[11] Now, if you will allow me to say so, most revered Father, that was really the moment to look into the matter, for it is more painful to take away a thing than not to grant it; but let that now prevail which seems best to your paternal authority. For if what then seemed right to you was so to them, and they allege this, the fact that it no longer seems so to you deprives it of any justice in the future. It is only in this way that your will becomes identical with justice in the eyes of the people; for obedience is life, and disobedience is death. Therefore they do not raise their hands against you; on the contrary, they supplicate you not to make them orphans while their Father yet lives, for so they declare in their speech.

§ 67.12  I hardly know whether I should praise or congratulate the young man on the goodwill all are showing him. For it is a triumph either of art and power, or of divine grace, so to win men and so to dominate the multitude that for them life is not worth living without him.
[13] Your kind nature will therefore give the kindlier decision in their case. I must go back to town, there to await your orders to act. But you shall not be in ignorance of my arrangements during the four days that I passed in this place, and what solution each difficulty found. Do not be surprised if I happen to speak well and ill of the same man, for these comments do not all apply to the same actions, and it is acts that are praised or blamed. It were well that discord should never arise between those who are brothers in Christ, but if this does occur, it is well that it should promptly disappear. Moved by all these considerations, as well as in obedience to the instructions you sent, I have undertaken to arbitrate, and I have been listening to a dispute of somewhat the following nature:
[14] In the village of Hydrax there is a spot, itself the loftiest part of the village, which formerly was a highly fortified citadel, but God having visited the spot with an earthquake, it has become an abandoned heap of ruins. Up to this day, they have been making other uses of some few of its parts, but these present times of war make it extremely valuable to those who possess it, because it could be fortified anew and return to its old use.
[15] Now between our brothers, the most pious bishops Paul [of Erythrum] and Dioscurus [of Darnis], as formerly between others, it was a matter of contention. The Darnite has accused the Erythrite of employing fraudulent means of his own to get possession of that which did not belong to him. He had, forsooth, consecrated to God the property of another, under the pretext of piety. He then defended his villainy with the strong hand; he was the first man to occupy it! The reverend Paul endeavored to advance some counter-arguments, how that he had annexed the fort beforehand, and it had been used as a church long before the reverend Dioscurus had been appointed owner of the site.

§ 67.16  But if anyone were to handle the inquiry firmly, the truth would soon be evident, for this whole allegation seems stale. The fact that a crowd of men have once prayed there by necessity, driven in by a hostile attack of the enemy, does not consecrate a spot, for at that rate all the mountains and all the valleys would be churches, and no fortress would escape being a place of public worship, for in all such places, when the enemy are out for plunder, prayers and celebrations of the Holy Mysteries take place. How many houses in the godless days of the Arians have received prayers and sacred ceremonies! These houses are none the less private property. For that, too, was a case of flight, and they, too, were enemies.
[17] Next I inquired into the date of the consecration, and if it had taken place by the gift or agreement of the proprietors. The opposite appeared clearly to be the case. One of the bishops asked for the fort. The other, who was in possession at the time, refused it. Finally one went out with the keys in his pocket, then the other burst in, and bringing with him a table, therewith consecrated a small room, on a broad hill. But nowhere is there access to this small room, except by crossing the whole plateau.
[18] Clearly it had been calculated that by this maneuver the hill could be definitely acquired. For my own part, this whole performance seemed to me unworthy, more than unworthy, and I was very angry at this flagrant violation of all sacred laws and civil forms of justice alike. All things become confounded, if on the one hand a new form of confiscation is invented, and if on the other by the holiest things the most abominable should be judged – prayer, the table of the Holy Communion, and the Mystic Veil becoming instruments of a violent attack. No doubt it was on these points that judgment had already been given in the city, for as a matter of fact at Ptolemais a meeting of almost all the bishops of the province had then assembled to consider a question of public interest. As they listened they felt hatred of the proceeding, but they hesitated before an act of eviction.
[19] I wish to separate superstition from piety, for it is an evil which has taken on the mask of virtue, an evil which philosophy has discovered to be the third degree of godlessness. In my eyes there is nothing sacred or holy except which has come into being in justice and holiness. Nor did it occur to me to shudder at the alleged consecration. For it is not the doctrine of Christians that the Divine presence follows of necessity these mystical matters and sounds, as though these were certain physical attractions. An earthly spirit might be so moved, indeed, but rather is the Divine present with unperturbed dispositions, and those that are proper to God. How could the Holy Ghost descend into a heart where anger, unreasoning passion, and a contentious spirit are the ruling forces? Nay, if such passions as these enter, even if it has formerly dwelt therein, it takes its departure. I was just about to declare the transference, but he was then proved to have promised this earlier himself, and had clenched his promise with an oath.

§ 67.20  Accordingly, taking this up with satisfaction, I was already for withdrawing from pronouncing sentence, but declaring the man himself his own judge, and compelling him to keep his oath, but he tried to retract and delayed. As I happened to be on the spot because of the ecclesiastical inspection, I felt called upon to cast an eye on the site, and to consider anew the subject under discussion; and again there was present a gathering of bishops from the neighborhood collected for one reason or another. In the presence of all these, and in my own, the boundary stones were shown marking out clearly the territory of Darnis; and the testimony of the old men, and the admissions of those who had up to the moment taken the contrary side, made it evident that the most pious Dioscurus was the owner of the site.
[21] On the insistence of Dioscurus' brother, necessity arose that I read publicly the abusive paper that the blessed Paul had written in the shape of a letter addressed to your holiness, an obscene and unpleasant satire directed against his brother, of which the burden of shame fell upon him who had spoken evil, not on him of whom evil had been spoken.
[22] But to feel shame is only the second of the virtues. Sinlessness is of the Divine destiny and nature entirely, but one might ascribe to modesty the blush for what has been ill done. By admitting these principles in the present case, the reverend Paul gave evidence of a change of opinion more convincing than any rhetoric, for his confession of error, and the bitter grief manifested as for evils he had voluntarily done, made us all favorably disposed towards him.
[23] This was not surprising in our case, but it was remarkable that the reverend bishop Dioscurus yielded to his adversary of his own free will, when he saw that he who had been until now so contentious had come to a more humble frame of mind. Although victorious by the votes of the judges, he was himself conquered by his own sentiment, and it became in the power of the reverend Paul to keep or give up the hill, as he should desire. The splendid Dioscurus was the first to suggest to him various concessions, to not one of which would Paul have listened for a moment before his repentance. Dioscurus suggested him to give up the hill alone, or to give up the whole property in exchange, and many other plans besides he devised, lavishing upon him ways in which a man might anticipate another's pleasure.

§ 67.24  But the other hesitated, he wished for one thing only, namely – to have the property by purchase on the same conditions as those by which his colleague Dioscurus had become the proprietor. Paul therefore became the proprietor of the vineyards and the olive groves in addition to the hill. Dioscurus, in place of his possessions, has the possession of magnanimity, a greater one in return for a less, and the honor of remaining within the gospel laws, which have declared the spirit of love to be the most important of its behests. This one thing only was worth commemorating, to wit, the agreement and harmony between the two brothers, passing over the fact that one who is a bishop had been convicted of stumbling, for it is best to allow acts that ought never to have been committed to pass into oblivion.
[25] But that Dioscurus should not be unlucky in everything, I have granted his request that I should go through the whole matter very carefully, so that your holiness should be ignorant of nothing. He considers it of the very greatest importance that you should be made acquainted with the facts of the case, and that you should thus realize that he was struggling in no unjust cause.
[26] Now I commend the man for other qualities, for he is one after my heart, but I exceedingly admire the feelings of respect by which he is moved for the dignity of your holy office. This I swear by your dear and sacred head: his fellow-poor at Alexandria owe Dioscurus much gratitude, for he helps them to cultivate their lands, and he is ubiquitous, and indefatigable in getting a profit from these even in bad years, and he knows how to turn all available chances to their advantage.
[27] Thus the quarrel between the two bishops has come to an end. You also gave me instructions to listen to the complaint of the presbyter Jason, the man who accused one of his colleagues of treating him with much unfairness. The case is somewhat as follows: Jason convicted Lamponian of wrong-doing, but the latter, though he anticipated the sentence by a confession, has his punishment in being debarred from attendance at ecclesiastical synods. Nevertheless he shed tears in repentance, and the people made supplications for his pardon. Notwithstanding all this, I confirmed the decision already rendered and left the right of acquittal to the pontifical seat.

§ 67.28  I only took upon myself to allow that in case fatal necessity should press upon Lamponian, in case the day of death seemed at hand, any presbyter who might be present should admit him to Holy Communion; for may no man die in chains through me! If on the other hand he should recover, let him undergo punishment again, and from your divine and charitable spirit alone let him await the token of pardon. After all, Jason himself is not above reproach. He has a quick tongue, and he came up against a man whose hand is quicker, and the result is that, as the proverb says, for a word, the lightest of all things, a sentence the heaviest was his penalty.
[29] Now as to the sum of money which I discussed, Lamponian admits that he has it, nor does he desire to be relieved on account of the shipwreck which caused the contract to disappear. He only seeks a favorable moment to sell his crops, and he said indeed that, dismissing all other matters, he was giving his mind to this one thing, how he might make restoration to his poorer creditors. The sum in question amounts to one hundred and fifty seven pieces.
[30] Now I must report on an abuse that is spreading amongst us, that it may perforce stop its course. Priests are prosecuting priests for lawless acts, I do not yet say by perjury, but at all events by malice prepense, for their object is not to punish those who are guilty, but to gain some illicit profit from the military chiefs. The burdens of all must needs fall upon my shoulders. Write, therefore, I beg of you, and ordain that it be permitted to no one to do anything of the sort. By so doing, you will confer a favor upon me, and at the same time you will protect the more peaceable and the unfortunate. In a word, you will be doing a much better turn to the evildoers themselves, if it is a greater good to be delivered from a greater evil, and a greater evil to do injustice than to suffer injustice, for the one thing is one's own, the other another's fault.
[31] I have not revealed who these men are, and do not you for your part, if you know, convict any of them by name, that I may not be hated by my brethren. God will forgive me for reproving them greatly face to face in private, but do you appear to condemn the offense only in your letter to me. Without wounding anyone, I shall with God's help find means of bringing to an end this unseemly behavior of ours, not to say that of the whole Church.

§ 67.32  Still one more point to settle, and I have finished this letter. A certain number of discharged men are wandering about our neighborhood. You must forgive me for using something of a foreign word, in order that by the more common vernacular of the country, I may put the wickedness of some more clearly. These men do not wish to have an appointed see, and have left each their own, not so much by necessity as by caprice. They enjoy honors, traveling wherever they find most profit.
[33] This, revered Father, is in my opinion the best line of conduct to pursue in regard to them. We ought to forbid every church to those who have renounced their own, and until they go and establish themselves in their own, no one should receive them at the altar, nor invite them to occupy the chief seats; we should overlook them amongst the crowd on the peoples' benches when they burst into the church. They would return quickly to their own posts, if they feared for their dignity, which they now think to enjoy everywhere, rather than in the one place befitting; but they would prefer to enjoy their dignity there, rather than nowhere.
[34] Thus, then, they should be treated in public, merely as private citizens, if so it seems well to your sacred throne also, but how to treat them privately in our own homes, we shall know only when an answer comes from your Holiness to that question which, you may remember, I put to you some time ago about Alexander, by race a Cyrenean, but ordained bishop in some city in Bithynia. He was expelled from his own see in troublous times, and now that he is able to return there, he refuses to take up his post again but insists upon remaining in our midst. Concerning this matter I wrote to your Holiness, going into all the details of his case, and I asked you how I ought to comport myself with him. As you did not reply, I do not know whether my letter reached you or whether it was lost. I talked over the whole matter with Dioscurus, that worthy bishop, and he ordered the scribes to hand over the copy of what I wrote beforehand, so that if you do not happen to have received my letter, when you have this document in hand, you can decide upon the merits of the case and send me your answer.
[35] Above all, pray for me, for you will be praying for a man abandoned by all, deserted, and in need of such support. I shrink from asking of God anything for myself. All things are turning out quite contrary to my desires, on account of my rash presumption; a sinful man, brought up outside the pale of the Church, and having received an alien training, I grasped at the altars of God.

§ 104.1  Letter 104: To his Brother
How often one sees the same men who are very courageous in peace-time showing themselves cowardly at the moment of combat! That is to say, they are worthless everywhere. Thus it seems to me that everyone should be thankful to war, for it is an exact touchstone of the blood in the heart of each one of us. It takes away many boasters, and returns them to us more temperate men. In the future, we shall no longer see the guilty Joannes swaggering about the public square, and attacking with kicks and blows men of a peaceable disposition. Indeed, yesterday the proverb, or rather the oracle, received clear information, for you certainly know it as an oracle: There be no long-haired men who are not degenerates?
[2] For some days now they have been warning us of the approach of the enemy. I thought that we ought to meet these. The leader of the Balagritae drew up his forces, and sallied out with them. Then, having occupied the plain first, we waited. The enemy did not appear. In the evening we went away home each of us, after we had arranged to return upon the following day.
[3] During this time, Joannes the Phrygian was nowhere; at least he was invisible, but he spread rumors in secret, at one moment that he had broken his leg and they had been obliged to amputate it, at another that he was suffering from asthma, later that some other untoward fate had overtaken him. Such tale-bearers kept drifting in from different sides, or so they pretended, the object being, no doubt, that no one should know into what retreat our man had slipped, or where he was concealed.

§ 104.4  And you should have heard them in the midst of their narration deploring the unlucky misfortune with tears in their eyes. "Ah! Now is the moment when we need his generous spirit — strong hands like his. What wonderful things he would have done, how he would have shone!" In each case, crying "Oh, evil destiny!", they wrung their hands and disappeared.
[5] Of course, they all belong to that company which Joannes fed at his table, for no good purpose — men with long hair like himself, base creatures, "impudent thieves of lambs and goats" and, by the gods, sometimes of women also. Such are the henchmen that he has been preparing for a long time. To be a man amongst them he never attempts. That would be too difficult. He is a cunning fellow withal, and he seeks the best opportunities of appearing a man in the eyes of those who are real man, but methinks fortune has upset all his calculations famously.
[6] For five days we had in vain sallied out in arms to find the enemy, but they were always at the frontier places which they were engaged in devastating. Then when Joannes was convinced that the enemy would not dare to come into the heart of the country, he himself appeared and is now turning everything into confusion.
[7] He ill? Never! Why, he was even laughing at people who believed such a story. He had come from a great distance, he said, I know not whence. He had been called there to bring assistance, and it was owing to this that the districts which had called on him were saved, for the enemy did not invade, terrified as they were at the mere rumor of the approach of Joannes. Once he had tranquillized everything there, he rushed up, he said, to the menaced province. He is waiting for the barbarians, who may appear at any moment, so long as they are not aware of his presence, and so long as his name is not mentioned.

§ 104.8  So, here he is, spreading confusion everywhere. He is claiming to be the general's right hand, he is promising that in no time at all he will teach the art of victory. He is shouting "Front form! Fall into line! Form square to the flank!" In a word he is using all the words of the military profession without any knowledge of their meaning.
[9] Thus some considered him a man of consequence and praised his talents, and were eager to become his pupils.
[10] It was now late in the evening. It was time to pursue our attack. When we came down from the mountains, we pushed on to the plain. There four young men — peasants, as their clothes indicated — rushed to us at top speed shouting as loud as they could. No one had need of a diviner to see that they were in terror of the enemy, and that they were in a hurry to find refuge amongst our troops. Before they had time to tell us properly that the enemy was there, we saw some wretched creatures on horseback, men who, to judge from the look of them, had been pushed into battle merely by hunger, and were quite ready to risk their lives in order to possess of our goods.
[11] The moment that they saw us, as we also saw them, before they were within javelin throw, they jumped from their horses, as is their way, to give battle on foot. I was of the opinion that we ought to do the same thing, for the ground did not lend itself to cavalry maneuvers. But our noble friend said he would not renounce the arts of horsemanship, and insisted on delivering a cavalry attack.

§ 104.12  What then? He pulls the horse's head sharply to the side, turns and flees away at full gallop, covers his horse with blood, gives it full rein, incites it with frequent application of spear, whip, and voice. I really do not know which of the two to admire the more, the horse or the rider, for if the horse galloped up hill and down hill and over rough country and smooth alike, cleared ditches and banks at a bound, the horseman for his part, kept his seat in the saddle firm and unshaken. I am sure the enemy thought it a fine sight, and were only too anxious to have many such.
[13] We could not give them this satisfaction, but you may imagine that we were disconcerted after having taken the promises of this hirsute beauty so seriously. So we drew up the line of battle to receive the enemy, if he should attack us. But we did not wish to take the initiative in the engagement ourselves. With such an example before us, the bravest of us distrusted his neighbor. Here nothing was a greater abomination than a head of hair, for the possessor seemed the most likely to betray us.
[14] However, the enemy did not seem in a hurry to open the attack any more than we were, for they drew up their line of battle and waited for us, in order to drive us back, in case we should take the offensive. On both sides the troops stood watching each other. Finally they drew off to the left and then we to the right, but at a walking pace and without haste, so that the retreat might not have the appearance of a flight.
[15] Notwithstanding all these anxieties, we tried to find out where in the world Joannes was. He had galloped without reining up as far as Bombaea, and he remained hidden in the cave there, like a field-mouse in its hole. Bombaea is a mountain full of caverns, where art and nature have combined to form an impregnable fortress. It has been long celebrated, and justly: they often compare it to the subterranean vaults of Egypt. But today everyone admits that there are no walls behind which one could be safer than at Bombaea, since even the most prudent of all men — I am too polite to say the most cowardly, the right word to use — has gone thither to hide himself, as to the surest refuge. The moment one enters this place, one is in a regular labyrinth, hard to get through, so that it by itself could provide places of refuge for Joannes.

§ 109.1  Letter 109: A Visit Postponed, To his Brother
Just at present I have neither asses, nor mules, nor horses at hand, for all have gone to pasture. If I could have used them, I might have come to your beloved presence. I wanted very much to make the journey on foot, and I might perhaps have done it, but my relations are opposed to the project. They say that I should make those I met laugh at me.
[2] Evidently the people on the road, whoever they may be, are wisdom itself. They have so much sense that each one of them knows what becomes me better than I do myself. How many judges are opposed upon us by those who wish to make us live for appearances!
[3] In the end I gave in, not to warnings, but to force. At the very moment when I was on the point of leaving, they would not let me, but seized me by the cloak.

§ 109.4  There is only one thing left for me to do, to dispatch this letter in my place. I send you by it all my messages of affection. I ask you what are the exports from Ptolemais, I mean what news you are probably bringing from government headquarters. Above all, tell me what I ought to think of the mysterious rumor that has come from the west, for you know that it makes a great difference to me whether it is true or not. If, then, you will write to me, and will give me all the details clearly stated, I will remain here. If not, you too will be reproaching me for having rushed to you.

§ 113.1  Letter 113: To his Brother
How now? Shall we watch these foul fiends braving death so readily for the sake of others' property, that they may not have to give up to the owners what they may have plundered? And shall we be sparing of ourselves, and cling to our lives, when the question is one of defending our country, our altars, our laws, and our property, all the possessions that we have enjoyed for so many years?
[2] At this rate we shall no longer look like men. For my part, just as I am, I must go against these barbarians. I must make trial to see what these enemies are who stop at nothing, what sort of people they are who dare to laugh the Romans to scorn, even though faring as they do now. A dromedary with the mange, says the proverb, can shoulder the burden of many asses.
[3] Quite apart from all this, I see that in such cases all those who do not think of anything except saving their lives, generally succumb, whereas those who are ready to make the sacrifice escape the danger. I shall be among these. I shall fight as if I were at the point of death, and I have no doubt at all that I shall survive. I am a Lacedaemonian by descent, and I remember the letter which the magistrates addressed to Leonidas. "Let them fight as if doomed to die, and they will not die."

§ 124.1  Letter 124: To the Philosopher
Even though
there shall be utter forgetfulness of the dead in Hades, even there shall I remember thee,
my dear Hypatia. I am encompassed by the sufferings of my city, and disgusted with her, for I daily see the enemy forces, and men slaughtered like victims on an altar. I am breathing an air tainted by the decay of dead bodies. I am waiting to undergo myself the same lot that has befallen so many others, for how can one keep any hope, when the sky is obscured by the shadow of birds of prey?
[2] Yet even under these conditions I love the country. Why then do I suffer? Because I am a Libyan, because I was born here, and it is here that I see the honored tombs of my ancestors. On your account alone I think I should be capable of overlooking my city, and changing my abode, if ever I had the chance of doing so.

§ 125.1  Letter 125: To his Brother
How sad it is to have only bad news to send when we write to each other, for, behold, the enemy has occupied Battia, he has attacked Aprosylis, he has burnt the threshing-floors, ravaged the fields, sold the women into slavery; and as to the men, there was no quarter given. Formerly they used to take away the little boys alive, but now, I suppose, they do not consider themselves sufficient in number to guard the booty, and at the same time to meet all the necessities of war, in case any one should attack them.
[2] However, none of us shows any indignation. We remain helpless in our homes. We always wait for our soldiers to defend us, and a sorry help they are! And, in spite of this, we are never done talking about the pay we give them and the privileges which they enjoy in time of peace, as if this were the moment to impeach then, and not the moment to hurl back the barbarians.
[3] When shall we have done with our useless chatter? When shall we act seriously? Let us collect our peasants, the tillers of the soil, to advance upon the enemy, to assure the safety of our wives, of our children, of our country, and also, I may add, of our soldiers. It will be a fine thing in time of peace to go about saying that we took care of the troops, and that we saved them.

§ 125.4  I am dictating this letter almost from my horse. I myself enrolled companies and officers with the resources I had at my disposal. I am collecting a very considerable body of Asusamas also, and I have given the Dioestae word to meet me at Cleopatra. Once we are on the march, and when it is announced that a young army has collected round me, I hope that many more will join us of their own free will. They will come from every side, the best men to associate themselves with our glorious undertaking, and the worthless to get booty.

§ 126.1  Letter 126: To Asclepiodotus
Alas! but why alas! Our lost is but mortal. The third of my sons, the only one who remained to me, has gone. I still, however, hold to the view that good and evil cannot be predicated of that which is not in our power. Or rather, this lesson which I learned long ago has now become a belief of a soul schooled in experience; the blow was of course more violent than my own suffering from it.
[2] The evil spirit whose business it is to hurt me arranged beforehand also that you, always so dear to me, should not be present. Oh best, thrice dear and most loyal of friends, may you come yet!
[3] I can bear witness that the noble Menelaus has a warm affection for you. For this reason I often spend a day with him, because he remembers you with something akin to veneration. Although he is very much occupied with the care of his soul, and has given himself up today to the guardians who are bringing him straight to Taucheira, he was well-disposed to the great Asclepiodotus, and he has continued to express gratitude to one to whom he owes so much.

§ 126.4  I am searching for a marble pot or cask to keep fresh water in, the larger the better. It shall be placed in the river Asclepius, for beside it I am building the monastery, and getting ready the holy vases. May God bless my enterprise!

§ 127.1  Letter 127: To his Brother
Beware of the asp and the toad, the snake and the Laodiceans.
Beware of the mad dog too, and again of the Laodiceans.
[2] After the most amiable and cultivated man, Pentadius, it is a Laodicean, Euthalius, who has obtained and holds the tablets which the state makes the token of the Egyptian government. You know the youth, for, if I am not mistaken, he entered service about the same time as we did, and it is impossible that you did not notice him, on account of his character and his surname. You have heard of a certain Balantas; this dignified appellation did not come to him by inheritance from his father, but rather was a nickname which he acquired for himself. Having been appointed governor of Lydia in the days of Rufinus, I think, he so plundered the Lydians that Rufinus in great wrath condemned him to a fine of fifteen pounds of gold. He furthermore gave orders to some of his soldiers, the bravest and most faithful, as he believed, of his servants, to go and collect this sum of money by force from him and to bring it back faithfully to his bank.
[3] What did our Sisyphus then? I shall not be so tactless as to spin out at great length the story which has been proclaimed on the house-tops. You have heard of course how he prepared a pair of purses much more like one another than the horses of Eumelus. He filled one of these with bronze obols, the other with gold staters. Then he proceeded to conceal the first one, and to show the second. They counted up the gold, weighed it, and sealed it up with the public seal. Then he secretly effected an exchange of the two purses, and sent the obols instead of the staters. But those in charge had in an official dispatch acknowledged the receipt of the gold, and promised to convey it to the bank.

§ 127.4  Daphnis became henceforth the first of the shepherds".
It was this which raised Euthalius to the height of fortune. Nobody could feel sorry for the state, because all laughed so much. Rather did all long to see one who had worked wonders as no other man in history. They were always inviting him. He went in procession through the cities as though he were a benefactor of the Romans, seated in a state chariot. The fellow is more talkative, I know, than the idlers who deliberate in the vestibule of the council-chamber, and this man will at once replace our dear Pentadius.

§ 130.1  Letter 130: To Simplicius
When you asked Cerialis to bring me your congratulations, you did him this good service, that you kept me in ignorance during five days as to what a contemptible man he is, for our cities had some hopes of one whom Simplicius deemed not unworthy of his acquaintance; but now he has made haste to dishonor — not you, for may your reputation never depend on any other man's! — himself, his mission, and in a word the affairs of the Romans. A venal fellow he is, and cheap at that: he takes no account of public opinion, is unfit for war and a real nuisance during peace, a peace which has brought him little profit, for it did not take him long to sow trouble and discord everywhere.
[2] As if the possessions of soldiers belong rightfully to the general, he takes away whatever they have, and gives them in return exemption from service, and allows them to go freely, wherever they hope to find anything to live on. After having behaved to the inhabitants of the counter in this manner (for as to the foreigners, it was impossible to levy money upon them), he proceeded to extract money from their cities by conducting troops there and moving them, not where there was the greatest military advantage, but where there was most plunder. Burdened by this billeting of troops upon them, the cities paid in gold.
[3] This was soon known to the Macetae; there half-barbarous people told the story to the barbarians themselves and these latter.
Came countless like the leaves and flowers in spring.

§ 130.4  Alas! for the young men we have lost. Alas! for our crops which we hoped for in vain! We have planted our fields for the fires lit by our enemies. Our wealth for the most part of us was our cattle, our herds of dromedaries and horses which grazed on the prairie. All are lost, all have been driven away.
[5] I feel that I am not master of my grief, but forgive me. I write to you shut up behind ramparts and besieged. Often in an hour I see torches gleaming, I am lighting some myself, and raising them as signals to others. But those hunts of yore which drew us on so far, and in which we rejoiced formerly in perfect safety, thanks, above all, to you, all these have gone. It is with a groan that we call to mind "those young years, that mind, and those thoughts".
[6] Today we suffer from entire lack of horses, the country is held by the enemy, and I, placed as a sentinel between two towers, am struggling against sleep.
To my lance I owe my bread;
To my lance I owe my Ismarian wine;
Leaning on my lance I drink.
I do not know if it was more true for Archilochus than for me.
[7] May the wretched Cerialis perish wretchedly, if he has not already perished, before these my curses. He richly deserved to become a victim of that last storm, he, who at the sight of the dangers into which he had thrown his province, for once in his life lost faith in earth itself. He embarked his gold on double-sailed merchantmen and he is tossing about on the high seas.

§ 130.8  A little ship is carrying us letters from him enjoining us to do exactly such things as we are doing now, namely, to keep within the walls, not to attempt any sortie from the trenches, not to give combat to an enemy who is unconquerable. If we do not obey him, he protests that he will not answer for the consequences. Then again he advises us to establish four watches in the night, as if our hopes lay in matters, like a man who is accustomed to misfortune. Nevertheless, he took very good care not to share our troubles. Instead of being upon the ramparts, like me, Synesius the philosopher, the general keeps himself close to the oar-blade.
[9] If you really wish to have the poems you asked me for, I must tell you that I see nothing therein felicitous, except the subject. Pray then with the Cyrenaens for a slight respite from war. In our present state we cannot take our books from their cases.

§ 132.1  Letter 132: To his Brother
We may allow that there are worse things than woman shrieking, beating their breasts, or tearing their hair when they see the enemy or when his coming is announced to them. For all that, Plato regards it as scandalous that they should not be willing to stand up like hens against the bravest in the defense of their offspring, and that they should give to the race of man the reputation of being the most cowardly of all animals.
[2] However this may be, that you should commit the same fault as these women, that you should be terrified out of your wits in the night, that you should get out of bed, and go about shouting that the barbarian is already at the gate of the fortress; I ask, is this to be endured any longer? And yet someone has told me some such story about you. It would seem like a transformation to be at one moment my brother, and at another a coward.
[3] For my part, at the moment of dawn I am off on horseback, I am scouting as far out as possible, searching busily wit eyes and ears for any signs of these cattle-lifters, for I cannot give the name of enemy to looters and foot-pads. I wish I could find stronger phrases still with which to characterize them.

§ 132.4  They never hold their ground against determined adversaries, and they only attack the timid, whom they slaughter like victims for sacrifice, and then strip them. At night, with an escort of young men, I patrol the hill and I give the women an opportunity of sleeping without fear, for they know that there are those who are watching over them.
[5] Moreover I have with me some of the corps of the Balagritae. Before Cerialis had taken over the command of the province, these men were mounted bowmen; but when he entered upon his functions, their horses were sold and they became only archers, but even as infantry they are useful to me. We need archery in defense of our wells and of the river, as water is entirely lacking in the interior of our lines.

§ 133.1  Letter 133: To Olympius
Just the other day, during the recent consulship of Aristaenetus and of — I don't know the name of his colleague — I received a letter sealed with your seal, and singed with your sacred name. But I conjecture it was a very old one, for it was worm-eaten, and the words for the most part were illegible.
[2] I wish very much that you would not content yourself with merely sending me one letter a year, as a sort of tribute, and that you would not take our friend Syrus for your only postman. In this way nothing comes to me in its pristine freshness, everything seems stale. Do, therefore, as I do — no messenger of the Court changes his horses and leaves our city, without his bag being made heavier by some letter of mine addressed to your eloquent self.
[3] Whether all or only some of them give you my letters, may those who put them in your hands be ever blest! They are excellent men. But if they do otherwise, you will then be the wiser, inasmuch as you will not put faith in faithless men. But that I may not uselessly weary my secretary in dictating letters to him that you will never receive, I should like to be sure about this.

§ 133.4  I shall in that case arrange things differently in the future, and entrust them to Peter alone. I think Peter will on this letter through the agency of the sacred hand, for I am sending it from Pentapolis to our common teacher. She will choose the man by whom she wishes it be conveyed, and her choice, I am sure, will fall upon the most trusted messenger.
[5] We do not know, my dearest and best friend, if we shall ever have a chance of conversing together again. The cowardice of our generals has delivered up our country to the enemy without a single battle; there are no survivors except those of us who have seized fortified places. Those who have been captured in the plains have been butchered like victims for sacrifice.
[6] We are now afraid of a prolonged siege, lest it should compel most of the fortresses to surrender to thirst. This is the reason why I did not answer your counter-charges on the subject of the presents. I had no leisure, for I was taken up with a machine which I am constructing, that we may hurl long-distance missiles from the turrets, stones of really substantial weight. I shall leave you, however, entirely at liberty to send me gifts, for of course Synesius must yield to Olympius, but they must not be gifts of a luxurious sort. I disapprove of the luxury of the quarters assigned to the company.
[7] Send me, then, things that are useful for soldiers, such as bows and arrows, and above all arrows with heads attached to them. As far as the bows are concerned, I can at a pinch buy them elsewhere, or repair those which I have already, but it is not easy to procure arrows, I mean really good ones. The Egyptian arrows that we have bulge at the knots and sink in between the knots, so that they deviate from their right course. They are like men starting in a foot-race, who from the very start are hampered and stumble; but those which are manufactured in your country are long and deftly turned on the pattern of a single cylinder; and this means everything for the straight course of their flight.

§ 133.8  Now this is what you ought to send me, and at the same time some serviceable bits for my horses. That Italian horse whose praises you set forth in such beautiful language, I would have very gladly seen, if he will give us, as you promise, some excellent colts. However, at the end of your letter, in a postscript, I read that you were obliged to leave him at Seleucia, because the captain of your vessel refused to embark such a cargo on account of the bad weather; but as I recognize neither a style resembling your own, nor your hand, nor the precision of your script, I think I ought to warn you of the fact. It would be absurd if such a fine horse were preserved neither for you nor for me.

§ 134.1  Letter 134: To Pylaemenes
I have received your letter in which you again accuse Fortune of treating you no better than in the past. You are wrong, dearest of friends, for it is not meet to blame her, but rather to console yourself. In your difficulties you can always come to me; you will be in the house of a brother. We are not rich, my good friend, but all we possess is quite sufficient for Pylaemenes and for me. If only we dwelt together, perhaps we should even be wealthy. Other men with resources such as mine enjoy great comfort, but I am a bad steward. In the meantime my patrimony still holds out against absolute neglect, and is well able to support a philosopher. Do not imagine that chance carries foresight with it.
[2] Well, then, do exactly as I tell you, unless meantime you have found fortune more favorable, and unless you again plan to raise the prostrate Heraclea. I am not writing to my habitual correspondents, on account of the difficulties of these times, but I have written quite lately to all of them. I gave Diogenes a whole packet of letters. Diogenes is my cousin; he undoubtedly went in search of you, and if he had succeeded in finding you, the packet ought to have been given to you by this time, for it bears your name. If you have not yet received it, ask the captain to point out the young man to you, and when you have obtained the letters, take upon yourself the care of distributing them.
[3] There are people whom I particularly ask you to salute in my name, the aged Proclus, Trypho, who has governed our province, and Simplicius, a most worthy man, an excellent magistrate, and a friend of mine. When you have brought him the letter, take advantage of the opportunity to make his acquaintance, for it is a beautiful thing to pass one's time with a poet-soldier.

§ 134.4  We caught ostriches in the days when peace allowed us the pleasure of hunting, but we have not been able to send them to sea owing to the enemies' armaments, nor could we put upon our ships any part of the goods lying on the wharves. There is only a cargo of wine, and as to olive-oil, by your noble head, they have not succeeded in embarking a single measure, so far as I know. Accept them, so many pints of wine as I offer you. In order to get it, you have only to send Julius the order, which I append to his letter, for fear that it may go astray. I also wrote to the aged Proclus sending a like consignment.
[5] Let him receive the letter by you, and the wine by Julius. We have prepared delicate presents for the golden Trypho (I must make use even now of the cold wit of a Gorgias), a great deal of silphium juice (even you know of the silphium of Battus), and the best saffron, for this is also a worthy product of Cyrene. However, it is impossible at the present moment to send all this. We would put it on board another vessel when we send the ostriches with it, and the olive-oil by itself.

§ 136.1  Letter 136: To his Brother
I hope that I may profit as much as you desire from my residence at Athens so as to seem to have become wiser by more than a palm and a finger's breadth in wisdom. It's possible even here and now to give you some taste of the new wisdom.
[2] Of course it is from Anagyrus that I am writing to you; and I have visited Sphettus, Thria, Cephisia, and Phalerum.
[3] But may the accursed ship-captain perish who brought me here! Athens has no longer anything sublime except the famous place names! Just as when the sacrificial offering has been made, the skin is left as the attribute of a creature that was once alive — so ever since philosophy moved away, there is nothing for the tourist to admire except the Academy, the Lyceum, and — by Zeus! — the Stoa Poikile, which has given its name to the philosophy of Chrysippus. This is no longer poikile, for the proconsul has taken away the panels on which Polygnotus of Thasos displayed his skill.

§ 136.4  Now in our times Egypt has received and nurtures the offspring of Hypatia, while Athens, which used to be the hearth-city of the wise, currently has beekeepers to bring it honor. Such is the case of that yoked pair of Plutarchan sophists who draw the young people to the lecture hall — not by the fame of their discourses, but by the clay pots from Hymettus [i.e., the honey-sweetness of empty eloquence. Plutarch de audiendi καὶ μαλακίαν, οὐκ ἐγκαρτεροῦντες τοῖς ἐλέγχοις οὐδὲ τὰς ἐπανορθώσεις δεχόμενοι γεννικῶς, ἀλλ' ἐπὶ τὰς προσηνεῖς καὶ ἁπαλὰς ἀποστρέφοντες ὁμιλίας τὰ ὦτα κολάκων τινῶν ἢ σοφιστῶν ἀνωφελεῖς καὶ ἀνονήτους ἡδείας δὲ φωνὰς κατᾳδόντων. ]

§ 148.1  Letter 148: To Olympius
I have neglected the duty to pay tribute, but what could I do? Not one of the Greeks settled in Libya is willing to dispatch merchantmen to your sea. At the same time I release you from your contribution, for Syrians never take the trouble to call at the ports of the Cyrenaica, and if one did by chance come, I should never know of it.
[2] As a matter of fact, I do not live near the sea, and I rarely come to the harbor. I have moved up country to the southern extremity of the Cyrenaica, and my neighbors are such men as Odysseus was in quest of, when he steered from Ithaca, to appease the wrath of Poseidon, in obedience of the oracle:
Men, who know not of the sea, nor eat food mixed with salt.
[3] But do not think that I am exaggerating when I say that people here do not take to the sea, even for the purpose of getting their salt, nor yet suppose that thus they eat their meat and cakes unsalted. We have, I swear by holy Hestia, at a distance to the south less than that which separates us from the sea to the north, a native salt which comes from the earth and which we call Ammon's salt. It collects under a scab, as it were, of crumbling stone, and when this scab, which conceals it, has been removed, it is easy enough to scoop out the depths with one's hand or with a shovel, and the lumps that you may take up in this manner are salt, pleasant both to look at and to taste.

§ 148.4  Do not think it sophistical vanity on my part, this account of the salts found in this country. Rustic people such as we are the last to harbor vain glory.
[5] But you express a wish to learn from me about everything in my part of the world; therefore be prepared for a loquacious letter, that you may pay the penalty for your untimely curiosity. At the same time, what is foreign to anyone is difficult of credence. A Syrian will not easily acknowledge the existence of salt from the earth, very much as people here are hard to convince when I answer questions about ships, sails, and the sea.
[6] You may remember that once when I was studying philosophy with you, I looked out upon this very thing, the sea, and the great deep lake which stretches from Pharos to Canopus. One ship was being towed in; another was moving with all sails set; another was propelled by oars. You laughed at me when I compared this last one to a centipede. Now the people here are in the same state of mind as we ourselves, whenever we listen to tales in the world beyond Thule, whatever Thule may be, which gives to those who have crossed it freedom to lie about it without criticism or censure. Even if they admit what is told them about vessels, or only seem to laugh at it, at all events they stoutly refuse to believe that the sea too is able to nourish mankind. According to their idea, this privilege belongs to mother earth alone.
[7] On one occasion, when they refused to believe in the existence of fish, I took a certain jar, and dashing it against a stone, showed them plenty of salted fish from Egypt, on which they said they were the bodies of evil snakes, sprang up and took to flight, for they suspected that the spines were as dangerous as the poison of serpent's fang. Then the oldest and most intelligent of them all said that he found it difficult to believe that salt water could produce anything good and fit to eat, since spring water, excellent though it be to drink, produces nothing except frogs and leeches, which not even a madman would taste. And yet their ignorance is natural.

§ 148.8  "For the onrushing wave" of the sea "awakens them not in the night" — only the neighings of horses, the bleating of a herd of goats, the cry of sheep, or the bellowing of a bull; then at the first ray of sunshine the humming of bees, yielding the palm to no other music in the pleasure it gives. Does it not seem to you that I am setting forth in detail the topic of Anchemachus, when I speak of the country where we live, far away from the town, far from the roads, far from commerce and its wily morality? For us there is time for philosophy, but no time to do evil.
[9] All our meetings are full of comradeship for all, for we depend on each other for farming, for our shepherds and flocks, and for every sort of hunting which the land affords. No one of us, either man or horse, may take his food without the sweat of his brow. We lunch off barley-groats, most sweet to gobble up, most sweet to gulp down, like that which Hecamede prepares for Nestor. After heavy fatigue this drink is a safeguard against the summer heat.
[10] Then again we have wheaten cakes, and fruits, either wild or cultivated, all grown in our country — with the flavor of the best soil; also honey from our bees and milk from our goats, for it is not the custom here to milk cows. Moreover, hunting with the assistance of dogs and horses brings no less abundance to our tables.
[11] I do not know why Homer has not described hunting as a glory to man and as ennobling those that pursue it. He has so eulogized the forum, that makes us poor men shameless and utterly vile, a place in which there is no health, but only railing and skill in contriving evil. When they of the forum are under our roofs, we laugh at them, for they shiver at the sight of wild beasts' flesh fresh from the fire.

§ 148.12  What do I say? Wild beasts' flesh? Why, they would rather take poison than any such dishes of ours! They seek the lightest wine, the thickest honey, the thinnest olive oil, and the heaviest wheat. They are always singing the praises of places where these products may be obtained, such as Cyprus, a certain Hymettus, Phoenice, and Barathra. Our country, even if it is inferior to each country that holds the first place in some one particular, surpasses the rest in the rest; and this to hold the first place by virtue of the second places, just as by gaining this distinction, Peleus and Themistocles were proclaimed to the Greeks the best of all in all things.
[13] We will admit, if you like, that our honey is not as good as the honey of Hymettus; nevertheless, it is so good that, when you have it, it falls not short of the foreign flavor. As to the olive-oil of this country, it is certainly the best, if one does not listen to people whose taste is depraved, for these persist in judging oil by weight, and the less heavy they hold to be more valuable. With us scales are not forged for oil, but we assert that if this must be done, it would be natural to give preference to the heavier. Moreover, their oil, however famous and costly, when once put into a lamp, is so feeble that it scarcely gives any light at all. But our oil is so good that it gives out a complete flame, and when a lamp is needed, it produces artificial daylight. It is useful for enriching cakes, or to make the sinews of athletes supple.
[14] Again, the art of music is especially native to our country. Our Anchemachetae play upon a little shepherd's lyre, a simple thing made by themselves, sweet-toned and fairly masculine in its note, not unworthy for the bringing-up of children in Plato's city. For it is not supple, nor does it have the virtue of adaptation to every note. However, our singers accommodate themselves to the simplicity of its strings, for they do not attempt sentimental subjects. One fair subject of song amongst us is praise of a the vigorous ram, and the dog with the lost tail comes in for a eulogy, because I suppose he deserves it for not fearing the hyenas, and strangling the wolves. Then the hunter is not least a subject of song, who brings peace to our pastures and feasts us with every sort of meat. Nor is the twin-bearing ewe deemed unworthy of our lyre, she who rears lambs more numerous than the years. We also often sing with vigor the praises of the fig-tree and the vine, but above all we sing to supplicate Heaven, asking blessings for men, and crops, and cattle.
[15] Such are our celebrations, seasonable and of old tradition, the good things of the poor; but as to the emperor, as to the favorites of the emperor, and fortune's dance, which we hear about when we come together, all those mere names which, like flames, are shot up to great height of glory, only to be extinguished — no one, or hardly anyone, speaks of them here. Our ears have rest from such stories.

§ 148.16  No doubt men know well that there is always an emperor living, for we are reminded of this every year by those who collect taxes; but who he is, is not very clear. There are people amongst us who suppose that Agamemnon, the son of Atreus, is still king, the great king who went against Troy. From childhood we have heard the king spoken of by this name and no other. He has for a friend, our good herdsman say, a certain Odysseus, a bald man, quite wonderful in dealing with events, and finding a way out of difficulties, and indeed they tell with laughter the story of the Cyclops, imagining that Odysseus blinded him only a year ago; and how the old man was conveyed under the belly of a ram, how this outcast mounted guard at the entrance, and imagined that the leader of the flock was bringing up the rear, not from the weight he was carrying, but through sympathy for his master's fortune.
[17] Through this letter you have at all events been with us in spirit for a while. You have watched our fields and seen the simplicity of our life, and no doubt you will say to yourself, it was thus that they lived in the time of Noah, before justice was enslaved.

§ 154.1  Letter 154: To the Philosopher
I have brought out two books this year. One of them as I was moved thereto by God Himself, the other because of the slander of men.
[2] Some of those who wear the white or dark mantle have maintained that I am faithless to philosophy, apparently because I profess grace and harmony of style, and because I venture to say something concerning Homer and concerning the figures of the rhetoricians. In the eyes of such persons one must hate literature in order to be a philosopher, and must occupy himself with divine matters only. No doubt these men alone have become spectators of the knowable. This privilege is unlawful for me, for I spend some of my leisure in purifying my tongue and sweetening my wit.
[3] The thing which urged them to condemn me, on the charge that I am fit only for trifling, is the fact that my Cynegetics disappeared from my house, how I know not, and has been received with great enthusiasm by certain young men who make a cult of atticisms and graceful periods. Moreover, some poetical attempts of mine seemed to them the work of an artist who reproduces the antique, as we are wont to say in speaking of statues.

§ 154.4  There are certain men among my critics whose effrontery is only surpassed by their ignorance, and these are the readiest of all to spin out discussions concerning God. Whenever you meet them, you have to listen to their babble about inconclusive syllogisms. They pour a torrent of phrases over those who stand in no need of them, in which I suppose they find their own profit. The public teachers that one sees in our cities, come from this class. It is a very Horn of Amalthea which they think themselves entitled to use. You will, I think, recognize this easy-going tribe, which miscalls nobility of purpose. They wish me to become their pupil; they say that in a short time they will make me all-daring in questions of divinity, and that I shall be able to declaim day and night without stopping.
[5] The rest, who have more taste, are sophists, much more unfortunate than these. They would like to be famous in the same way, but unfortunately for them they are incapable even of this. You know some who, despoiled by the office of the tax-collector, or urged thereto by some one calamity, have become philosophers in the middle of their lives. Their philosophy consists in a very simple formula, that of calling God to witness, as Plato did, whenever they deny anything or whenever they assert anything. A shadow would surpass these men in uttering anything to the point; but their pretensions are extraordinary. Oh, what proudly arched brows! They support their beards with the hand. They assume a more solemn countenance than the statues of Xenocrates. They are even resolved to shackle us with a law which is altogether to their advantage; to wit, that no one shall be in open possession of any knowledge of the good. They esteem it an exposure of themselves if any one, deemed a philosopher, knows ho to speak, for as they think to hide behind a veil of simulation and to appear to be quite full of wisdom within.
[6] These are the two types of men who have falsely accused me with occupying myself in trivial pursuits, one of them because I do not talk the same sort of nonsense as they do, the other because I do not keep my mouth shut, and do not keep the 'bull on my tongue', as they do. Against these was my treatise composed, and it deals with the loquacity of the one school and the silence of the other. Although it is the latter in particular that it is addressed, namely to the speechless and envious men in question (do you not think with some comeliness of from?), none the less it has found means of dragging in those other men also, and it aims at being not less an exhibition than an encomium of great learning. Nor did I abjure their charges, but for their still great discomfiture I have often courted them.
[7] Next, passing as to the choice of a life, the work of praises that of philosophy as being the most philosophic of choices; and what sort of choice it must be regarded, learn from the book itself. Finally, it defends my library, also, which the same men accused, on the ground that it conceals unrevised copies. These spiteful fellows have not kept their hands even off things like these. If each thing is in its proper place; and all things have been handled in season; if the motives behind each part of the undertaking are just; if it has been divided into a number of chapters in the manner of the divine work the Phaedrus, in which Plato discusses the various types of the beautiful; if all the arguments have been devised to converge on the one end proposed; if, moreover, conviction has anywhere quietly come to the support of the flatness of the narrative, and if out of conviction demonstration has resulted, as happens in such cases, and if one thing follows another logically, these results must be gifts of nature and art.

§ 154.8  He who is not undisciplined to discover even a certain divine countenance hidden under a coarser model, like that Aphrodite, those Graces, and such charming divinities as the Athenian artists concealed within the sculpted figures of a Silenus or a Satyr, that man, at all events, will apprehend all that my book has unveiled of the mystic dogmas. But the meanings of those will easily escape others because of their semblance to redundancy, and their appearance as being thrown into the narrative too much by chance, and as it might seem roughly. Epileptics are the only people who feel the cold influences of the moon. On the other hand only those receive the flashes of the emanations of the intellect, for whom in the full health of the mind's eye God kindles a light akin to his own, that light which is the cause of knowledge to the intellectual, and to knowable things the cause of their being known. In the same way, ordinary light connects sight with color. But remove this light, and its power to discern is ineffective.
[9] Concerning all of this I shall await your decision. If you decree that I ought to publish my book, I will dedicate it to orators and philosophers together. The first it will please, and to the others it will be useful, provided of course that it is not rejected by you, who are really able to pass judgment. If it does not seem to you worthy of Greek ears, if, like Aristotle, you prize truth more than friendship, a close and profound darkness will overshadow it, and mankind will never hear it mentioned.
So much for this matter.
[10] The other work [On dreams] God ordained and He gave His sanction to it, and it has been set up as a thank-offering to the imaginative faculties. It contains an inquiry into the whole imaginative soul, and into some other points which have not yet been handled by any Greek philosopher. But why should one dilate on this? This work was completed, the whole of it, in a single night, or rather, at the end of a night, one which also brought the vision enjoining me to write it. There are two or three passages in the book in which it seemed to me that I was some other person, and that I was one listening to myself amongst others who were present.
[11] Even now this work, as often as I go over it, produces a marvelous effect upon me, and a certain divine voice envelops me as in poetry. Whether this my experience is not unique, or may happen to another, on all this you will enlighten me, for after myself you will be the first of the Greeks to have access to the work.

§ 154.12  The books that I sending to you have not yet been published, and in order that the number may be complete, I am sending you also my essay concerning the Gift. This was produced long ago in my ambassadorial period. It was addressed to a man who had been great influence with the emperor and Pentapolis profited somewhat from the essay, and also from the gift.