γένοιτ᾽ ἂν ἐνθένδε, [125] ὁπόσου δὲ τὸ δῶρον ἄξιον καταμαθόντας χάριν
ἀποτίνειν τυχὸν οὐκ ἀλλοτρίαν τοῦ δοθέντος τῇ χαρισαμένῃ. λόγων γὰρ
ἀστείων καὶ παντοδαπῶν θησαυροὺς τὸν ἐν ταῖς βίβλοις δεξάμενον οὐκ ἄδικον
διὰ σμικρῶν καὶ φαύλων ῥημάτων ἰδιωτικῶς καὶ ἀγροίκως ἄγαν ξυγκειμένων
ᾄδειν εὐφημίαν. οὐδὲ γὰρ γεωργὸν φήσεις εὐγνώμονα, ὃς καταφυτεύειν μὲν τὴν
φυταλιὰν ἀρχόμενος κλήματα ᾔτει παρὰ τῶν γειτόνων, εἶτα ἐκτρέφων τὰς
ἀμπέλους δίκελλαν καὶ αὖθις σμινύην, καὶ τέλος ἤδη κάλαμον, [B] ᾧ χρὴ
προσδεδέσθαι καὶ ἐπικεῖσθαι τὴν ἄμπελον, ἵνα αὐτή τε ἀνέχηται καὶ οἱ
βότρυες ἐξηρτημένοι μηδαμοῦ ψαύωσι τῆς βώλου, τυχόντα δὲ ὧν ἐδεῖτο μόνον
ἐμπίπλασθαι τοῦ Διονύσου τῆς χάριτος οὔτε τῶν βοτρύων οὔτε τοῦ γλεύκους
μεταδιδόντα τοῖς,(584) ὧν πρὸς τὴν γεωργίαν ἔτυχε προθύμων. οὔκουν οὐδὲ
νομέα ποιμνίων οὐδὲ βουκολίων οὐδὲ μὴν αἰπολίων ἐπιεικῆ καὶ ἀγαθὸν καὶ
εὐγνώμονα φήσει τις, ὃς τοῦ μὲν χειμώνος, ὅτε αὐτῷ στέγης καὶ πόας ἐδεῖτο
τὰ βοσκήματα, [C] σφόδρα ἐτύγχανε προθύμων τῶν φίλων, πολλὰ μὲν αὐτῷ
ξυμποριζόντων καὶ μεταδιδόντων τροφῆς ἀφθόνου καὶ καταγωγίων, ἦρος δὲ
οἶμαι καὶ θέρους φανέντος μάλα γενναίως ἐπιλαθόμενον ὧν εὖ πάθοι, οὔτε τοῦ
γάλακτος οὔτε τῶν τυρῶν οὔτε ἄλλου τοῦ μεταδιδόντα τοῖς(585) ὑφ᾽ ὧν αὐτῷ
διεσώθη ἀπολόμενα ἂν ἄλλως τὰ θρέμματα.
(But perhaps I ought not now to be writing a panegyric on books, nor to
describe all the benefits that we might derive from them, but since I
recognise how much that gift was worth, I ought to pay back to the
gracious giver thanks not perhaps altogether different in kind from what
she gave. For it is only just that one who has accepted clever discourses
of all sorts laid up as treasure in books, should sound a strain of eulogy
if only in slight and unskilful phrases, composed in an unlearned and
rustic fashion. For you would not say that a farmer showed proper feeling
who, when starting to plant his vineyard, begs for cuttings from his
neighbours, and presently, when he cultivates his vines, asks for a
mattock and then for a hoe, and finally for a stake to which the vine must
be tied and which it must lean against, so that it may itself be
supported, and the bunches of grapes as they hang may nowhere touch the
soil; and then, after obtaining all he asked for, drinks his fill of the
pleasant gift of Dionysus, but does not share either the grapes or the
must with those whom he found so willing to help him in his husbandry.
Just so one would not say that a shepherd or neatherd or even a goatherd
was honest and good and right‐minded, who in winter, when his flocks need
shelter and fodder, met with the utmost consideration from his friends,
who helped him to procure many things, and gave him food in abundance, and
lodging, and presently when spring and summer appeared, forgot in lordly
fashion all those kindnesses, and shared neither his milk nor cheeses nor
anything else with those who had saved his beasts for him when they would
otherwise have perished.)
Ὅστις οὖν λόγους ὁποιουσοῦν τρέφων νέος μὲν αὐτὸς καὶ ἡγεμόνων πολλῶν
δεόμενος, τροφῆς δὲ πολλῆς [D] καὶ καθαρᾶς τῆς ἐκ τῶν παλαιῶν γραμμάτων,
εἶτα ἀθρόως πάντων στερηθείη(586) ἆρα ὑμῖν μικρᾶς δεῖσθαι βοηθείας δοκεῖ ἢ
μικρῶν αὐτῷ γεγονέναι ἄξιος ὁ πρὸς ταῦτα συλλαμβανόμενος; καὶ τυχὸν οὐ χρὴ
πειρᾶσθαι χάριν ἀποτίνειν αὐτῷ τῆς προθυμίας καὶ τῶν ἔργων; ἀλλὰ μή ποτε
τὸν Θαλῆν ἐκεῖνον, τῶν σοφῶν τὸ κεφάλαιον μιμητέον,(587) οὗ τὰ ἐπαινούμενα
ἀκηκόαμεν; ἐρομένου γάρ τινος ὑπὲρ ὧν ἔμαθεν [126] ὁπόσον τινὰ χρὴ
καταβαλεῖν μισθόν· ὁμολογῶν, ἔφη, τι(588) παρ᾽ ἡμῶν μαθεῖν τὴν ἀξίαν ἡμῖν
ἐκτίσεις. οὐκοῦν καὶ ὅστις διδάσκαλος μὲν αὐτὸς οὐ γέγονε, πρὸς τὸ μαθεῖν
δὲ καὶ ὁτιοῦν συνηνύγκατο, ἀδικοῖτ᾽ ἄν, εἰ μὴ τυγχάνοι τῆς χάριτος καὶ τῆς
ἐπὶ τοῖς δοθεῖσιν ὁμολογίας, ἣν δὴ καὶ ὁ σοφὸς ἀπαιτῶν φαίνεται. εἶεν.
ἀλλὰ τοῦτο μὲν χαρίεν καὶ σεμνὸν τὸ δῶρον· χρυσίον δὲ καὶ ἀργύριον οὔτε
ἐδεόμην ἐγὼ λαβεῖν οὔτε ὑμᾶς δὴ [B] ὑπὲρ τούτων ἡδέως ἂν ἐνοχλήσαιμι.
(And now take the case of one who cultivates literature of any sort, and
is himself young and therefore needs numerous guides and the abundant food
and pure nourishment that is to be obtained from ancient writings, and
then suppose that he should be deprived of all these all at once, is it,
think you, slight assistance that he is asking? And is it slight payment
that he deserves who comes to his aid? But perhaps he ought not even to
attempt to make him any return for his zeal and kind actions? Perhaps he
ought to imitate the famous Thales, that consummate philosopher, and that
answer which we have all heard and which is so much admired? For when
someone asked what fee he ought to pay him for knowledge he had acquired,
Thales replied “If you let it be known that it was I who taught you, you
will amply repay me.” Just so one who has not himself been the teacher,
but has helped another in any way to gain knowledge, would indeed be
wronged if he did not obtain gratitude and that acknowledgement of the
gift which even the philosopher seems to have demanded. Well and good. But
this gift of hers was both welcome and magnificent. And as for gold and
silver I neither asked for them nor, were they in question, should I be
willing thus to wear out your patience.)
Λόγον δὲ ὑμῖν εἰπεῖν ἐθέλω μάλα δή τι(589) ὑμῖν ἀκοῆς ἄξιον, εἰ μὴ
τυγχάνομεν ἀπειρηκότες πρὸς τὸ μῆκος τῆς ἀδολεσχίας· τυχὸν δὲ(590) οὐδὲ
τῶν ῥηθέντων ἠκρόασθε ξὺν ἡδονῇ ἅτε ἀνδρὸς ἰδιώτου καὶ σφόδρα ἀμαθοῦς
λόγων, πλάττειν μὲν οὐδὲν οὐδὲ τεχνάζειν εἰδότος, φράζοντος δὲ ὅπως ἂν
ἐπίῃ τάληθές· ὁ δὲ δὴ λόγος σχεδόν τι περὶ τῶν παρόντων ἐστί. φήσουσι γάρ,
[C] οἶμαι, πολλοὶ παρὰ τῶν μακαρίων σοφιστῶν ἀναπειθόμενοι, ὅτι ἄρα μικρὰ
καὶ φαῦλα πράγματα ἀναλεξάμενος ὡς δή τι σεμνὸν ὑμῖν ἀπαγγέλλω. τοῦτο δὲ
οὐ φιλονεικοῦντες πρὸς τοὺς ἐμοὺς λόγους οὐδὲ ἐμὲ τῆς ἐπ᾽ αὐτοῖς
ἀφαιρεῖσθαι δόξης ἐθέλοντες ἴσως ἂν εἴποιεν· ἴσασι γὰρ σαφῶς, ὅτι μήτε
ἀντίτεχνος εἶναι βούλομαι τοῖς ἐκείνων λόγοις τοὺς ἐμαυτοῦ παρατιθείς,
μήτε ἄλλως ἀπεχθάνεσθαι ἐκείνοις ἐθέλω· ἀλλ᾽ οὐκ οἶδα ὅντινα τρόπον [D]
τοῦ μεγάλα λέγειν ἐκ παντὸς ὀρεγόμενοι χαλεπῶς ἔχουσι πρὸς τοὺς μὴ
τἀκείνων ζηλοῦντας καὶ δι᾽ αἰτίας ἄγουσιν ὡς καθαιροῦντας τὴν τῶν λόγων
ἰσχύν. μόνα γὰρ εἶναι τῶν ἔργων ζηλωτά φασι καὶ σπουδῆς ἄξια καὶ πολλῶν
ἐπαίνων ὁπόσα διὰ μέγεθος ἤδη τισὶν ἄπιστα ἐφάνη, ὁποῖα δή τινα τὰ περὶ
τῆς Ἀσσυρίας ἐκείνης γυναικός, ἣ μεταβαλοῦσα καθάπερ ῥεῖθρον εὐτελὲς τὸν
διὰ τῆς Βαβυλῶνος ποταμὸν ῥέοντα βασίλειά [127] τε ᾠκοδόμησεν ὑπὸ γῆς
πάγκαλα καὶ μεθῆκεν ὑπὲρ τῶν χωμάτων αὖθις. ὑπὲρ γὰρ δὴ ταύτης πολὺς μὲν
λόγος, ὡς ἐναυμάχει ναυσὶ τρισχιλίαις, καὶ πεζῇ παρετάττετο μυριάδας
ὁπλιτῶν τριακοσίας ἄγουσα, τό τε ἐν Βαβυλῶνι τεῖχος ᾠκοδόμει πεντακοσίων
σταδίων μικρὸν ἀποδέον, καὶ τὰ περὶ τὴν πόλιν ὀρύγματα καὶ ἄλλα πολυτελῆ
καὶ δαπανηρὰ κατασκευάσματα ἐκείνης ἔργα γενέσθαι [B] λέγουσι. Νίτωκρις δὲ
ταύτης νεωτέρα καὶ Ῥοδογούνη καὶ Τώμυρις καὶ μυρίος δή τις ἐπιρρεῖ
γυναικῶν ὄχλος ἀνδριζομένων οὐ λίαν εὐπρεπῶς. τινὰς δὲ ἤδη διὰ τὸ κάλλος
περιβλέπτους καὶ ὀνομαστὰς γενομένας οὐ σφόδρα εὐτυχῶς, ἐπειδὴ ταραχῆς
αἴτιαι καὶ πολέμων μακρῶν ἔθνεσι μυρίοις καὶ ἀνδράσιν, ὅσους ἦν εἰκὸς ἐκ
τοσαύτης χώρας ἀθροίζεσθαι, γενέσθαι δοκοῦσιν, ὡς μεγάλων αἰτίας ὑμνοῦσι
πράξεων. ὅστις δὲ τοιοῦτον οὐδὲν εἰπεῖν ἔχει, [C] καταγέλαστος εἶναι δοκεῖ
ἅτε οὐκ ἐκπλήττειν οὐδὲ θαυματοποιεῖν ἐν τοῖς λόγοις σφόδρα ἐπιχειρῶν.
βούλεσθε οὖν ἐπανερωτῶμεν αὐτούς, εἴ τις αὐτῶν γαμετὴν ἢ θυγατέρα οἱ
τοιαύτην εὔχεται γενέσθαι μᾶλλον ἢ τὴν Πηνελόπην; καίτοι ἐπὶ ταύτης οὐδὲν
Ὅμηρος εἰπεῖν ἔσχε πλέον τῆς σωφροσύνης καὶ τῆς φιλανδρίας καὶ τῆς ἐς τὸν
ἑκυρὸν ἐπιμελείας καὶ τὸν παῖδα· ἔμελε δὲ ἄρα οὔτε τῶν ἀγρῶν ἐκείνῃ οὔτε
τῶν ποιμνίων· στρατηγίαν δὲ ἢ δημηγορίαν οὐδὲ ὄναρ εἰκὸς(591) ἐκείνῃ
παραστῆναί ποτε· [D] ἀλλὰ καὶ ὁπότε λέγειν ἐχρῆν εἰς τὰ μειράκια,
(But I wish to tell you a story very well worth your hearing, unless
indeed you are already wearied by the length of this garrulous speech.
Indeed it may be that you have listened without enjoyment to what has been
said so far, seeing that the speaker is a layman and entirely ignorant of
rhetoric, and knows neither how to invent nor how to use the writer’s
craft, but speaks the truth as it occurs to him. And my story is about
something almost of the present time. Now many will say, I suppose,
persuaded by the accomplished sophists, that I have collected what is
trivial and worthless, and relate it to you as though it were of serious
import. And probably they will say this, not because they are jealous of
my speeches, or because they wish to rob me of the reputation that they
may bring. For they well know that I do not desire to be their rival in
the art by setting my own speeches against theirs, nor in any other way do
I wish to quarrel with them. But since, for some reason or other, they are
ambitious of speaking on lofty themes at any cost, they will not tolerate
those who have not their ambition, and they reproach them with weakening
the power of rhetoric. For they say that only those deeds are to be
admired and are worthy of serious treatment and repeated praise which,
because of their magnitude, have been thought by some to be incredible,
those stories for instance about that famous woman(592) of Assyria who
turned aside as though it were an insignificant brook the river(593) that
flows through Babylon, and built a gorgeous palace underground, and then
turned the stream back again beyond the dykes that she had made. For of
her many a tale is told, how she fought a naval battle with three thousand
ships, and on land she led into the field of battle three million
hoplites, and in Babylon she built a wall very nearly five hundred stades
in length, and the moat that surrounds the city and other very costly and
expensive edifices were, they tell us, her work. And Nitocris(594) who
came later than she, and Rhodogyne(595) and Tomyris,(596) aye and a crowd
of women beyond number who played men’s parts in no very seemly fashion
occur to my mind. And some of them were conspicuous for their beauty and
so became notorious, though it brought them no happiness, but since they
were the causes of dissension and long wars among countless nations and as
many men as could reasonably be collected from a country of that size,
they are celebrated by the orators as having given rise to mighty deeds.
And a speaker who has nothing of this sort to relate seems ridiculous
because he makes no great effort to astonish his hearers or to introduce
the marvellous into his speeches. Now shall we put this question to these
orators, whether any one of them would wish to have a wife or daughter of
that sort, rather than like Penelope? And yet in her case Homer had no
more to tell than of her discretion and her love for her husband and the
good care she took of her father‐in‐law and her son. Evidently she did not
concern herself with the fields or the flocks, and as for leading an army
or speaking in public, of course she never even dreamed of such a thing.
But even when it was necessary for her to speak to the young suitors,)
ἄντα παρειάων σχομένη λιπαρὰ κρήδεμνα
(“Holding up before her face her shining veil”(597))
πρᾴως ἐφθέγγετο. καὶ οὐκ ἀπορῶν Ὅμηρος οἶμαι τηλικούτων ἔργων οὐδὲ
ὀνομαστῶν ἐπ᾽ αὐτοῖς γυναικῶν ταύτην ὕμνησε διαφερόντως· ἐξῆν γοῦν αὐτῷ
τὴν τῆς Ἀμαζόνος φιλοτίμως πάνυ στρατείαν διηγησαμένῳ τὴν ποίησιν ἅπασαν
ἐμπλῆσαι τοιούτων διηγημάτων τέρπειν εὖ μάλα καὶ ψυχαγωγεῖν δυναμένων.
[128] οὐ γὰρ δὴ τείχους μὲν αἵρεσιν, καὶ πολιορκίαν καὶ τρόπον τινὰ
ναυμαχίαν εἶναι δοκοῦσαν, τὸν πρὸς τοῖς νεωρίοις πόλεμον, ἀνδρός τε ἐπ᾽
αὐτῇ καὶ ποταμοῦ μάχην ἐπεισάγειν οἴκοθεν διενοεῖτο τῇ ποιήσει καινόν τι
λέγειν ἐπιθυμῶν· τοῦτο δὲ εἴπερ ἦν, ὥσπερ οὖν φασι, σεμνότατον, ὀλιγώρως
οὕτω παρέλιπε. τί ποτε οὖν ἄν τις αἴτιον λέγοι τοῦ κείνην μὲν ἐπαινεῖν
προθύμως, τούτων δ᾽ οὐδ᾽(598) ἐπὶ σμικρὸν μνημονεύειν; ὅτι [B] διὰ μὲν τὴν
ἐκείνης ἀρετὴν καὶ σωφροσύνην πολλὰ ἴδίᾳ τε(599) τοῖς ἀνθρώποις καὶ εἰς τὸ
κοινὸν ἀγαθὰ συμβαίνει, ἐκ δὲ δὴ τῆς τούτων φιλοτιμίας ὄφελος μὲν οὐδὲ ἕν,
συμφοραὶ δὲ ἀνήκεστοι. ἅτε δὴ ὢν οἶμαι σοφὸς καὶ θεῖος ποιητὴς ταύτην
ἔκρινεν ἀμείνω καὶ δικαιοτέραν τὴν εὐφημίαν. ἆρ᾽ οὖν ἔτι προσῆκον(600)
εὐλαβηθῆναι τοσοῦτον ἡγεμόνα ποιουμένοις, μή τις ἄρα μικροὺς ὑπολάβῃ καὶ
φαύλους;
(it was in mild accents that she expressed herself. And it was not because
he was short of such great deeds, or of women famous for them, that he
sang the praises of Penelope rather than the others. For instance, he
could have made it his ambition to tell the story of the Amazon’s(601)
campaign and have filled all his poetry with tales of that sort, which
certainly have a wonderful power to delight and charm. For as to the
taking of the wall and the siege, and that battle near the ships which in
some respects seems to have resembled a sea‐fight, and then the fight of
the hero and the river,(602) he did not bring them into this poem with the
desire to relate something new and strange of his own invention. And even
though this fight was, as they say, most marvellous, he neglected and
passed over the marvellous as we see. What reason then can anyone give for
his praising Penelope so enthusiastically and making not the slightest
allusion to those famous women? Because by reason of her virtue and
discretion many blessings have been gained for mankind, both for
individuals and for the common weal, whereas from the ambition of those
others there has arisen no benefit whatever, but incurable calamities. And
so, as he was, I think, a wise and inspired poet, he decided that to
praise Penelope was better and more just. And since I adopt so great a
guide, is it fitting that I should be afraid lest some person think me
trivial or inferior?)
[C] Ἐγὼ δὲ ὑμῖν καὶ τὸν γενναῖον ἐκεῖνον ῥήτορα Περικλέα τὸν πάνυ, τὸν
Ὀλύμπιον, μάρτυρα ἀγαθὸν ἤδη παρέξομαι. κολάκων γὰρ δή, φασὶ, ποτὲ τὸν
ἄνδρα περιεστὼς δῆμος διελάγχανον τοὺς ἐπαίνους, ὁ μὲν ὅτι τὴν Σάμον
ἐξεῖλεν, ἄλλος δὲ ὅτι τὴν Εὔβοιαν, τινὲς δὲ ἤδη τὸ περιπλεῦσαι τὴν
Πελοπόννησον, ἦσαν δὲ οἱ τῶν ψηφισμάτων μεμνημένοι, τινὲς δὲ τῆς πρὸς τὸν
Κίμωνα φιλοτιμίας, σφόδρα ἀγαθὸν πολίτην καὶ στρατηγὸν εἶναι δόξαντα
γενναῖον. [D] ὁ δὲ τούτοις μὲν οὔτε ἀχθόμενος οὔτε γανύμενος δῆλος ἦν,
ἐκεῖνο δὲ ἠξίου τῶν αὑτῷ πεπολιτευμένων ἐπαινεῖν, ὅτι τοσοῦτον χρόνον(603)
ἐπιτροπεύσας τὸν Ἀθηναίων δῆμον οὐδενὶ θανάτου γέγονεν αἴτιος, οὐδὲ
ἱμάτιον μέλαν τῶν πολιτῶν τις περιβαλόμενος Περικλέα γενέσθαι ταύτης
αἴτιον αὐτῷ τῆς συμφορᾶς ἔφη. ἄλλου του, πρὸς φιλίου Διός, δοκοῦμεν ὑμῖν
μάρτυρος δεῖσθαι, ὅτι μέγιστον ἀρετῆς σημείον [129] καὶ πάντων μάλιστα
ἐπαίνων ἄξιον τὸ μηδένα κτεῖναι τῶν πολιτῶν μηδὲ ἀφελέσθαι τὰ χρήματα μηδὲ
ἀδίκῳ φυγῇ περιβαλεῖν; ὅστις δὲ πρὸς τὰς τοιαύτας συμφορὰς αὑτὸν ἀντιτάξας
καθάπερ ἰατρὸς γενναῖος οὐδαμῶς ἀποχρῆν ὑπέλαβεν αὑτῷ τὸ μηδενὶ νοσήματος
αἰτίῳ γενέσθαι, ἀλλ᾽ εἰ μὴ πάντα εἰς δύναμιν ἰῷτο καὶ θεραπεύοι, οὐδὲν
ἄξιον τῆς αὐτοῦ τέχνης ἔργον ὑπέλαβεν, ἆρα ὑμῖν δοκεῖ τῶν ἴσων ἐπαίνων ἐν
δίκῃ τυγχάνειν; [B] καὶ οὐδὲν προτιμήσομεν οὔτε τὸν τρόπον οὔτε τὴν
δύναμιν, ὑφ᾽ ἧς ἔξεστι μὲν αὐτῇ δρᾶν ὅ,τι ἂν ἐθέλῃ, θέλει δὲ ἅπασι τἀγαθά;
τοῦτο ἐγὼ κεφάλαιον τοῦ παντὸς ἐπαίνου ποιοῦμαι, οὐκ ἀπορῶν ἄλλων
θαυμασίων εἶναι δοκούντων καὶ λαμπρῶν διηγημάτων.
(But it is indeed a noble witness that I shall now bring forward, that
splendid orator Pericles, the renowned, the Olympian. It is said(604) that
once a crowd of flatterers surrounded him and were distributing his
praises among them, one telling how he had reduced Samos,(605) another how
he had recovered Euboea,(606) some how he had sailed round the
Peloponnesus, while others spoke of his enactments, or of his rivalry with
Cimon, who was reputed to be a most excellent citizen and a distinguished
general. But Pericles gave no sign either of annoyance or exultation, and
there was but one thing in all his political career for which he claimed
to deserve praise, that, though he had governed the Athenian people for so
long, he had been responsible for no man’s death, and no citizen when he
put on black clothes had ever said that Pericles was the cause of his
misfortune. Now, by Zeus the god of friendship, do you think I need any
further witness to testify that the greatest proof of virtue and one
better worth praise than all the rest put together is not to have caused
the death of any citizen, or to have taken his money from him, or involved
him in unjust exile? But he who like a good physician tries to ward off
such calamities as these, and by no means thinks that it is enough for him
not to cause anyone to contract a disease, but unless he cures and cares
for everyone as far as he can, considers that his work is unworthy of his
skill, do you think that in justice such a one ought to receive no higher
praise than Pericles? And shall we not hold in higher honour her character
and that authority which enables her to do what she will, since what she
wills is the good of all? For this I make the sum and substance of my
whole encomium, though I do not lack other narratives such as are commonly
held to be marvellous and splendid.)
Εἰ γὰρ δή τις τὴν περὶ τῶν ἄλλων σιωπὴν ὑποπτεύσειεν ὡς ματαίαν οὖσαν
προσποίησιν καὶ ἀλαζονείαν κενὴν καὶ αὐθάδη, οὔτι που καὶ τὴν ἔναγχος
ἐπιδημίαν γενομένην αὐτῇ τὴν εις τὴν Ῥώμην, [C] ὁπότε ἐστρατεύετο βασιλεὺς
ζεύγμασι καὶ ναυσὶ τὸν Ῥῆνον διαβὰς ἄγχου τῶν Γαλατίας ὁρίων, ψευδῆ καὶ
πεπλασμένην ἄλλως ὑποπτεύσει. ἐξῆν δὴ οὖν, ὡς εἰκός, διηγουμένῳ ταῦτα τοῦ
δήμου μεμνῆσθαι καὶ τῆς γερουσίας, ὅπως αὐτὴν ὑπεδέχετο σὺν χαρμονῇ,
προθύμως ὑπαντῶντες καὶ δεξιούμενοι καθάπερ νόμος βασιλίδα, καὶ τῶν
ἀναλωμάτων τὸ μέγεθος, ὡς ἐλευθέριον καὶ μεγαλοπρεπές, καὶ τῆς παρασκευῆς
τὴν πολυτέλειαν, ὁπόσα τε ἔνειμε τῶν φυλῶν [D] τοῖς ἐπιστάταις καὶ
ἑκατοντάρχαις τοῦ πλήθους ἀπαριθμήσασθαι. ἀλλ᾽ ἔμοιγε τῶν τοιούτων οὔτε
ἔδοξέ ποτε ζηλωτὸν οὐδέν, οὔτε ἐπαινεῖν ἐθέλω πρὸ τῆς ἀρετῆς τὸν πλοῦτον.
καίτοι με(607) οὐ λέληθεν ἡ τῶν χρημάτων ἐλευθέριος δαπάνη μετέχουσά τινος
ἀρετῆς· ἀλλ᾽ οἶμαι κρεῖττον ἐπιείκειαν καὶ σωφροσύνην καὶ φρόνησιν καὶ ὅσα
δὴ ἄλλα περὶ αὐτῆς λέγων πολλοὺς μὲν καὶ ἄλλους, [130] ἀτὰρ δὴ καὶ ἐμαυτὸν
ὑμῖν καὶ τὰ ἐπ᾽ ἐμοὶ πραχθέντα παρεῖχον μάρτυρα. εἰ δὴ οὖν καὶ ἄλλοι τὴν
ἐμὴν εὐγνωμοσύνην ζηλοῦν ἐπιχειρήσειαν, πολλοὺς ἔχει τε ἤδη καὶ ἕξει τοὺς
ἐπαινέτας.
(For if anyone should suspect that my silence about the rest is vain
affectation and empty and insolent pretension, this at least he will not
suspect, that the visit which she lately made to Rome,(608) when the
Emperor was on his campaign and had crossed the Rhine by bridges of boats
near the frontiers of Galatia, is a false and vain invention. I could
indeed very properly have given an account of this visit, and described
how the people and the senate welcomed her with rejoicings and went to
meet her with enthusiasm, and received her as is their custom to receive
an Empress, and told the amount of the expenditure, how generous and
splendid it was, and the costliness of the preparations, and reckoned up
the sums she distributed to the presidents of the tribes and the
centurions of the people. But nothing of that sort has ever seemed to me
worth while, nor do I wish to praise wealth before virtue. And yet I am
aware that the generous spending of money implies a sort of virtue.
Nevertheless I rate more highly goodness and temperance and wisdom and all
those other qualities of hers that I have described, bringing before you
as witnesses not only many others but myself as well and all that she did
for me. Now if only others also try to emulate my proper feeling, there
are and there will be many to sing her praises.)
ORATION IV
Introduction To Oration IV
In the fourth century A.D. poetry was practically extinct, and hymns to
the gods were almost always written in prose. Julian’s Fourth Oration is,
according to the definition of the rhetorician Menander, a φυσικὸς ὕμνος,
a hymn that describes the physical qualities of a god. Julian was an
uncritical disciple of the later Neo‐Platonic school, and apparently
reproduces without any important modification the doctrines of its chief
representative, the Syrian Iamblichus, with whom begins the decadence of
Neo‐Platonism as a philosophy. Oriental superstition took the place of the
severe spiritualism of Plotinus and his followers, and a philosophy that
had been from the first markedly religious, is now expounded by theurgists
and the devotees of strange Oriental cults. It is Mithras the Persian sun‐
god, rather than Apollo, whom Julian identifies with his “intellectual
god” Helios, and Apollo plays a minor part among his manifestations.
Mithras worship, which Tertullian called “a Satanic plagiarism of
Christianity,” because in certain of its rites it recalled the sacraments
of the Christian church, first made its appearance among the Romans in the
first century B.C.(609) Less hospitably received at first than the cults
of Isis and Serapis and the Great Mother of Pessinus, it gradually
overpowered them and finally dominated the whole Roman Empire, though it
was never welcomed by the Hellenes. For the Romans it supplied the ideals
of purity, devotion and self‐control which the other cults had lacked. The
worshippers of Mithras were taught to contend against the powers of evil,
submitted themselves to a severe moral discipline, and their reward after
death was to become as pure as the gods to whom they ascend. “If
Christianity,” says Renan, “had been checked in its growth by some deadly
disease, the world would have become Mithraic.” Julian, like the Emperor
Commodus in the second century, had no doubt been initiated into the
Mysteries of Mithras, and the severe discipline of the cult was profoundly
attractive to one who had been estranged by early associations from the
very similar teaching of the Christians.
Julian followed Plotinus and Iamblichus in making the supreme principle
the One (ἓν) or the Good (τὸ ἀγαθὸν) which presides over the intelligible
world (νοητὸς κόσμος), where rule Plato’s Ideas, now called the
intelligible gods (νοητοὶ θεοί). Iamblichus had imported into the Neo‐
Platonic system the intermediary world of intellectual gods (νοεροὶ θεοί).
On them Helios‐Mithras, their supreme god and centre, bestows the
intelligence and creative and unifying forces that he has received from
his transcendental counterpart among the intelligible gods. The third
member of the triad is the world of sense‐perception governed by the sun,
the visible counterpart of Helios. What distinguishes Julian’s triad(610)
from other Neo‐Platonic triads is this hierarchy of three suns in the
three worlds: and further, the importance that he gives to the
intermediary world, the abode of Helios‐Mithras. He pays little attention
to the remote intelligible world and devotes his exposition to Helios, the
intellectual god, and the visible sun. Helios is the link that relates the
three members of the triad. His “middleness” (μεσότης) is not only local:
he is in every possible sense the mediator and unifier. μεσότης is the
Aristotelian word for the “mean,” but there is no evidence that it was
used with the active sense of mediation before Julian. A passage in
Plutarch however seems to indicate that the “middleness” of the sun was a
Persian doctrine: “The principle of good most nearly resembles light, and
the principle of evil darkness, and between both is Mithras; therefore the
Persians called Mithras the Mediator” (μεσίτης).(611) Naville has pointed
out the resemblance between the sun as mediator and the Christian Logos,
which Julian may have had in mind. Julian’s system results in a
practically monotheistic worship of Helios, and here he probably parts
company with Iamblichus.