{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_26294/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_26294","id":"gutenberg_26294","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/26294","summary":null,"tags":["Apuleius -- Translations into English","Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Speeches, addresses, etc., Latin -- Translations into English"],"text":"Produced by Curtis Weyant, Linda Cantoni, and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This\nfile was produced from images generously made available\nby Case Western Reserve University Preservation Department\nDigital Library)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[Transcriber's Note: Out-of-order entries in the endnotes have been\ncorrected.]\n\n\n\n\nTHE APOLOGIA AND FLORIDA\nOF APULEIUS OF MADAURA\n\n\nTRANSLATED\n\nBY H.E. BUTLER\n\nFELLOW OF NEW COLLEGE\n\n\nOXFORD\nAT THE CLARENDON PRESS\n\n1909\n\nHENRY FROWDE, M.A.\nPUBLISHER TO THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD\nLONDON, EDINBURGH, NEW YORK\nTORONTO AND MELBOURNE\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nFor the purposes of this translation I have used Helm's text of the\n_Apologia_, and Van der Vliet's text of the _Florida_. Both texts are\npublished by the firm of Teubner, to whom I am indebted for permission\nto use their publications as the basis of this work. Divergences from\nthe text are indicated in the footnotes, and I have made a few,\nperhaps unnecessary, expurgations. For the elucidation of the magical\nportions of the _Apologia_ I am specially indebted to Abt's commentary\n(_Apologie des Apuleius_, Giessen, 1906). I also owe much to the\narticles on Apuleius in Schanz's _Geschichte der roemischen\nLitteratur_, and in Pauly-Wissowa's _Real-Encyclopaedie_, and to\nHildebrand's commentary on the works of Apuleius (Leipzig, 1842).\n\nH.E. BUTLER.\n\n\n\n\nTABLE OF CONTENTS\n\n\n                                                        PAGE\n\nINTRODUCTION                                               5\n\nTHE APOLOGIA                                              19\n\nTHE FLORIDA                                              159\n\nNOTES ON THE APOLOGIA                                    219\n\nNOTES ON THE FLORIDA                                     235\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\nOur authorities for the life of Apuleius are in the main the\n_Apologia_, the _Florida_, and the last book of the _Metamorphoses_.\nHe has a passion for taking his audience into his confidence, and as a\nresult it is not hard to reconstruct a considerable portion of his\nlife. He was a native of Madaura, the modern Mdaurusch, a Numidian\ntown loftily situated above the valley of the Medjerda. The town was a\nflourishing Roman colony (_Apol._ 24), and the family of Apuleius was\namong the wealthiest and most important of the town. His father\nattained to the position of _duumvir_, the highest municipal office\n(_Apol._ loc. cit.), and left his son the considerable fortune of\n2,000,000 sesterces (L20,000). As to the date of Apuleius' birth there\nis some uncertainty. But as he was the fellow student (_Florida_ 16)\nat Rome of Aemilianus Strabo (consul 156 A.D.), and was considerably\nyounger than his wife Pudentilla, whom he married about 155 A.D., when\nshe had 'barely passed the age of forty' (_Apol._ 89), the estimate\nwhich places his birth about 125 A.D. cannot be far wrong. His name is\ngenerally given as Lucius Apuleius, though the only authority for the\n_praenomen_ is the evidence of late MSS., and it is not improbable\nthat the origin of the name is to be found in the curious\nidentification of himself with Lucius, the hero of the _Metamorphoses_\n(xi. 27). At an early age the young Apuleius was sent to school at\nCarthage (_Florida_ 18), whence on attaining to manhood he proceeded\nto complete his education at Athens (_Florida_ loc. cit.). There he\nstudied philosophy, rhetoric, geometry, music, and poetry (_Florida_\n20), and laid the foundations of that encyclopaedic, if superficial\nknowledge, which in after years he so delighted to parade. On leaving\nAthens he set forth on lengthy travels, in the course of which he\nspent a large portion of his patrimony (_Apol._ 23). He speaks of the\ntemple of Hera at Samos as an eyewitness (_Florida_ 15), and elsewhere\nmentions a visit to Hierapolis in Phrygia (_de mundo_ 17). Returning\nfrom the East he came to Corinth, where--if we may accept his\nidentification of himself with the Lucius of the _Metamorphoses_--he\nfell into the clutches of the priests of Isis, who played upon his\nemotional and superstitious temperament to their hearts' content. He\nwas first initiated into the mysteries of Isis (_Metamorph._ xi. 23,\n24). A few days after this auspicious event the goddess appeared to\nhim in a vision and bade him set forth homewards. He therefore took\nship for Rome, where for the space of a year he dwelt, a fervent\nworshipper at the temple of Isis on the Campus Martius. Once more\nvisions of the night began to afflict him; he consulted the priests\nand discovered the cause; he required yet to be initiated into the\nmysteries of Osiris. The priests of Corinth had worked upon his\ncredulity to such good effect, that he found himself in serious\nfinancial difficulties, but by practising as a lawyer he succeeded in\nmaking a sufficient income to provide more than adequately for the\nexpenses of this fresh initiation (_Metamorph._ xi. 28, 30). While at\nRome he made the acquaintance of Aemilianus Strabo and Scipio Orfitus,\nmen of distinguished position, whom he was to meet again when their\nofficial career brought them to Africa as proconsuls of that province\n(_Florida_ 16, 17).\n\nAt last he returned home, and it was probably at this period of his\ncareer that he wrote his famous novel, the _Metamorphoses_ or _Golden\nAss_.[1] It is based on the lost work of a certain Lucius of Patras,\nof which we have another version in the [Greek: Loukios e onos],\nfalsely attributed to Lucian. He enlarged the original by the free\ninsertion of sensational or humorous stories of the kind popularized\nlater by the _Decameron_ of Boccaccio, above all by the insertion of\nthe beautiful fairy-tale of Cupid and Psyche. And then at the end\ncomes the curious personal note, where Lucius, a Greek at the outset\nof the romance, becomes strangely transformed into a native of\nMadaura.\n\n[Footnote 1: See Introd. to my translation of _Metamorphoses_.]\n\nBut he did not settle down in his native town. After a time he visited\nAlexandria, and it was in the course of his return from the capital of\nEgypt that the crisis in his life occurred, to which we owe that\nremarkable human document, the _Apologia_. For on his homeward journey\nhe fell sick at Oea, the modern Tripoli.[2] In this town there dwelt a\nwealthy lady, named Aemilia Pudentilla, the widow of Sicinius Amicus,\nby whom she had two sons, Sicinius Pontianus and his younger brother,\nSicinius Pudens. Pontianus was already the friend of Apuleius; he had\nmade his acquaintance at Athens; an intimacy had sprung up between\nthem, and they had lived together in the same lodgings. Hearing,\ntherefore, of Apuleius' sickness, he called on him at the house of\ntheir mutual friends the Appii, where he was lodging. The reasons for\nPontianus' visit were somewhat remarkable. His grandfather had been\nanxious that Pudentilla should take a second husband in the person of\nhis son and her brother-in-law, Sicinius Clarus, and with this end in\nview threatened to exclude her sons, whose guardian he was, from the\npossession of any of their father's property, if she married\nelsewhere. She therefore suffered herself to be betrothed to Sicinius\nClarus, 'a boorish and decrepit old man,' but put off the marriage,\nuntil her father-in-law's death released her from all embarrassment.\nPontianus and Pudens succeeded to the property, and Pudentilla felt\nherself free to take a husband of her own choice. She informed her\nsons of her intentions. Pontianus approved, but since the property\nleft to himself and Pudens by their grandfather was small, and all his\nexpectations of wealth depended on the ultimate inheritance of his\nmother's fortune (4,000,000 sesterces = L40,000), he was most anxious\nthat his mother should marry an honest man who might reasonably be\nexpected to treat his step-sons fairly. At this point, in the very\nnick of time, Apuleius was detained at Oea. Pontianus saw in him a\nheaven-sent step-father, and it was with this in his mind that he\ncalled upon Apuleius. He did not declare his intentions at once. He\ncontented himself at first with dissuading Apuleius from pursuing his\njourney homeward till the next winter came round, and persuaded him to\ncome and stay in his mother's house. Apuleius accepted his offer and\ntheir old intimacy revived. At last a suitable occasion offered for\nthe declaration of Pontianus' wishes. Apuleius had given a public\nlecture at Oea. His audience broke into frenzied applause and begged\nApuleius to become a citizen of their town.\n\n[Footnote 2: See _Apol._ 68 sqq.]\n\nWhen the audience were gone, Pontianus took Apuleius aside and, saying\nthat the popular enthusiasm was a sign from heaven, begged Apuleius to\nmarry Pudentilla. After much deliberation Apuleius consented, though\nthe lady was neither fair to view nor young. She had been a widow for\nmore than thirteen years, and was now over forty. Soon, however, he\nbegan to love Pudentilla for her own sake; her virtues and\nintelligence won his heart and overcame his desire for further travel.\nThe marriage was duly solemnized. But it brought Apuleius no peace.\nSicinius Aemilianus, another brother of her first husband, and\nHerennius Rufinus, the disreputable father-in-law of Pontianus, were\nboth up in arms. Rufinus had hoped, through his son-in-law, to reap a\nrich harvest from Pudentilla's fortune; Aemilianus resented the\ntreatment of his brother, Sicinius Clarus. They sought, therefore,\nhow they might have their revenge. Their first step was to win\nPontianus and Pudens to their side. This they succeeded in doing, in\nspite of the generous treatment accorded by Apuleius to his step-sons.\nPontianus fell sick and died before they could carry out their\ndesigns. He had, moreover, repented of his baseness to his former\nfriend, though death prevented him from showing what his repentance\nwas worth. Pudens, however, was completely under the thumb of\nAemilianus and Rufinus, and a number of more or less serious charges\nwere brought against Apuleius in his name.\n\nHe was accused of having won the heart of Pudentilla by sorcery, of\nbeing a man of immoral life, and of having married his elderly bride\nsolely for the sake of her money. The trial took place at Sabrata\n(_Apol._ 59), the modern Zowara, lying on the coast some sixty miles\nwest of Oea. The case was tried by the proconsul himself, Claudius\nMaximus. The date cannot be precisely fixed. But Claudius Maximus was\nprobably proconsul at some time between the years 155-158 A.D. (see\nnote on _Apol._ 1), at any rate not later than 161 A.D., since\nAntoninus Pius is mentioned as the reigning princeps (died March 161\nA.D.). Apuleius had no difficulty in disposing of the charges brought\nagainst him, and incidentally found an opportunity for a flamboyant\ndisplay of the learning of which he was so proud. He may well on\noccasion have practised magic: his insatiable curiosity must assuredly\nhave led him to experiment in this direction, and his subsequent\nreputation confirms these suspicions. But the specific charges of\nmagic on this occasion were frivolous and absurd. In the first portion\nof the speech Apuleius plays with his accusers, mocking them from the\nheights of his superior learning. In the second portion, where he\ndefends his marriage with Pudentilla and justifies his dealings with\nhis step-sons, he clears himself in good earnest, nay does more than\nclear himself. For he unveils in the most merciless fashion the\nvillany of his accusers--the base ingratitude of Pudens, and the\nunspeakable turpitude of Rufinus.\n\nThat Apuleius was acquitted cannot be doubted. His case speaks for\nitself. But it is noteworthy that we hear of him no more at Oea, where\nhe had resided for three years at the time of the trial. This\ndistressing family quarrel must have caused some bitterness of\nfeeling, and Augustine (_Ep._ 138. 19) mentions a quarrel with the\ninhabitants of Oea on the question of the erection of a statue in his\nhonour. These facts may not improbably have led him to seek residence\nelsewhere. Be this as it may, when we next hear of him he is in\nCarthage, enjoying the highest renown as philosopher, poet, and\nrhetorician. It was during this residence at Carthage that he\ndelivered the flamboyant orations of which fragments have been\npreserved to us in the _Florida_. A few of these excerpts can be\ndated. The seventeenth is written during the proconsulate of Scipio\nOrfitus in 163-164 A.D. The ninth contains a panegyric of the\nproconsul Severianus, who must have held office some time during the\njoint reign of Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus, 161-169 A.D. (see\nnote, p. 236). The sixteenth refers to Aemilianus Strabo, who was\nconsul in 156 A.D. and had not yet become proconsul of Africa. As the\ninterval between holding the consulate and the proconsulate was from\nten to thirteen years, this fragment may be dated, if not before 166,\nat any rate before 169 A.D.\n\nApuleius won more than mere applause. Carthage decreed a statue in his\nhonour (_Florida_ 16), and conferred on him the chief-priesthood of\nthe province. This office entitled its holder to the first place in\nthe provincial council, and was the highest honour that the province\ncould bestow (_Florida_ 16). Civil office he never held (Augustine,\n_Ep._ 138. 19), perhaps never sought. His genius, it may be said with\nconfidence, was far from fitting him for judicial or administrative\nfunctions. If we may trust Apollinaris Sidonius (_Ep._ II. 10. 5),\nPudentilla showed herself a model wife by the passionate interest she\ntook in her husband's work. 'Pudentilla was for Apuleius what Marcia\nwas for Hortensius, Terentia for Cicero, Calpurnia for Piso,\nRusticiana for Symmachus: these noble women held the lamp while their\nhusbands read and meditated!' It is even possible that she bore him a\nson, as the second book of the _de Platone_ is dedicated to 'my son\nFaustinus'. Of his death we know nothing. Testimony as to his\nappearance is conflicting. His accusers (_Apol._ 4) charge him with\nbeing a 'handsome philosopher'. He replies that his body is worn by\nthe fatigues of study and his hair as tangled as a lump of tow!\n\nHis works were astonishingly numerous. Beside those already mentioned\nthere have come down to us two books on the life and philosophy of\nPlato,[3] a highly rhetorical treatise on the 'Demon of Socrates', and\na free translation of the pseudo-Aristotelian treatise 'on the\nUniverse', though Apuleius is regrettably far from making due\nacknowledgement of his debt to the original. None of these works can\nbe described as interesting, though the treatise on the 'Demon of\nSocrates' contains some characteristic purple passages.\n\n[Footnote 3: He regarded Plato as his master above all others. We find\n_Platonicus_ attached to him as an honorific title in the MSS.]\n\nIt would, however, scarcely be an exaggeration to say that more of\nApuleius' works have perished than survived. He has told us in the\n_Florida_ (20) that he has written dialogues, hymns, music, history,\nand satire. And we have copious references to works from his pen,\nthat, perhaps fortunately, no longer exist. Beside the three poems\nwhich survive in the _Apologia_ and a translation of a passage of\nMenander, preserved in a manuscript once at Beauvais, but now lost\n(Baehrens, _Poet. Lat. Min._ 4, p. 104), he mentions a hymn to\nAesculapius, written both in Latin and Greek (_Florida_ 18), and a\npanegyric in verse on the virtues of Scipio Orfitus (_Florida_ 17). He\nwrote also another novel entitled _Hermagoras_, a collection of famous\nlove-stories of the past, sundry 'histories', a translation of the\n_Phaedo_, and numerous scientific works, dealing with problems of\nmathematics, music, astronomy, medicine, botany, and zoology.\n\nThe glory won by Apuleius during his lifetime survived after his\ndeath. Augustine knows his works well. He recognizes his importance as\na writer, but abhors him as a magician. Apuleius is a thaumaturge\nagainst whom the faithful need to be warned. 'The enemies of\nChristianity,' says Augustine (_Ep._ 138), 'venture to place Apuleius\nand Apollonius of Tyana on the same or even a higher level than\nChrist.' But in the same letter he speaks of him as a 'great orator'\nwhose fame still lives among his fellow countrymen of Africa. Above\nall the _Golden Ass_ has kept his name alive to our own day. Even\nthose who know nothing of the work as a whole, or who would relegate\nit to obscurity for its occasional gross indecency, know and love the\nstory of Cupid and Psyche, if not in the original at least in many a\nwork of art, and in the pages of La Fontaine, Walter Pater, or William\nMorris.\n\nAs might be expected from one who left so few themes untouched,\nApuleius is one of the most superficial of ancient writers. It has\nbeen well said of him by M. Paul Monceaux, 'Apulee est un de ces\nesprits encyclopediques, apres a la curee de toutes les connaissances,\nqui se rencontrent au commencement et a la fin des civilisations.' For\nthe acquisition of his extraordinary reputation he needed an age and\nan audience in which learning and literature alike were decadent,\nthough far from forgotten. He has none of the scientific spirit. He\ndoes not really understand the authors he quotes; he has no critical\nspirit, and his own investigations are prompted by indiscriminate\ncuriosity. But he has vast stores of miscellaneous knowledge such as\nmight delight the half-educated, and as a rhetorician he possesses a\nstrange and debased brilliance, fired by an astonishing if disorderly\nimagination. The verve, the humour, and above all the welter of warmth\nand colour that characterize the _Golden Ass_ make us forgive the\npalpable degradation of the Latin language. Not less remarkable is the\n_Apologia_. There are few speeches of antiquity that give such a vivid\nimpression of the character of the author and of the life of the\nsociety in which he moved. The style, it is true, is often bombastic\nand affected, many of the arguments are almost more puerile and absurd\nthan the accusations, while the intense conceit and complacency of the\nauthor often make him ridiculous. A man of wide and varied knowledge,\nhe has no depth of intellect. He is always half charlatan, and the\nreader is rarely free from the impression that he is taking liberties\nwith the uncertain taste and ignorance of his provincial audience. But\neven the weaknesses of style and argument have their charm for the\nmodern reader. For, if he never entirely fails to laugh with Apuleius,\nhe certainly indulges in many a hearty laugh at him.\n\nThe _Florida_ are no less superficial and bombastic, and the vanity of\nApuleius is revealed even more remarkably than in the _Apologia_. But\nthey are never long enough to be tedious, and contain much that is\namusing, be the humour unconscious or intentional; and even if we can\nrarely give whole-hearted admiration to the style, we cannot but\nmarvel at its dexterity, while its very _bizarrerie_ is not without\nits charm.\n\nThis is hardly the place for a disquisition upon African Latin. It is\nsufficient here to say that the two main features of the style of\nApuleius are its archaism and its extreme floridity. It has been\nasserted that this strange style is of purely African growth,[4] and\nthat it owes much of its oriental wealth of colour to the Semitic\nelement that must still have formed so large a proportion of the\npopulation of Africa. But there seems little really to support this\nview; it is probable that, allowing for the personal factor, in this\ncase exceptionally important, and the eccentricities to which\nApuleius' erudition may have led him, we are confronted with no more\nthan an exaggerated revival of the Asiatic style of oratory. No doubt\nthe seed fell on good ground, but it is impossible to set one's finger\non any definitely African element.[5]\n\n[Footnote 4: For a vivacious exposition of this view cf. Monceaux,\n_Les Africains_. Paris, 1894.]\n\n[Footnote 5: See the chapter on Apuleius in Norden's admirable work,\n_Die antike Kunstprosa_, Leipzig, 1898.]\n\nThe style presents grave difficulties to the translator. The English\nlanguage will not carry the requisite amount of bombast; the\nassonances and the puns are generally incapable of reproduction. Even\nwhen this allowance has been made, it is in many cases impossible to\ngive anything approximating to a translation in natural English. I\ncan only trust that the English of this translation has not wholly\nlost the colour to which Apuleius owes so much of his charm. The\nsacrifice is not so great in these works as it must necessarily be in\nany English translation of the more exotic and more brilliant-hued\n_Metamorphoses_, better known as _The Golden Ass_. But in any case the\ncooler tints and sobriety of our native language must--even in hands\nless unskilled than mine--fail to do justice to the fantastic Latin of\nthe original. The vivacity of French coupled with the richness and\nwarmth of Italian would need to be combined to produce anything\napproaching a really good translation, even of the least fantastic\nworks of Apuleius.\n\n\n\n\nTHE APOLOGIA\n\n\n1. For my part, Maximus Claudius, and you, gentlemen who sit beside\nhim on the bench, I regarded it as a foregone conclusion that Sicinius\nAemilianus would for sheer lack of any real ground for accusation cram\nhis indictment with mere vulgar abuse; for the old rascal is notorious\nfor his unscrupulous audacity, and, further, launched forth on his\ntask of bringing me to trial in your court before he had given a\nthought to the line his prosecution should pursue. Now while the most\ninnocent of men may be the victim of false accusation, only the\ncriminal can have his guilt brought home to him. It is this thought\nthat gives me special confidence, but I have further ground for\nself-congratulation in the fact that I have you for my judge on an\noccasion when it is my privilege to have the opportunity of clearing\nphilosophy of the aspersions cast upon her by the uninstructed and of\nproving my own innocence. Nevertheless these false charges are on the\nface of them serious enough, and the suddenness with which they have\nbeen improvised makes them the more difficult to refute. For you will\nremember that it is only four or five days since his advocates of\nmalice prepense attacked me with slanderous accusations, and began to\ncharge me with practice of the black art and with the murder of my\nstep-son Pontianus. I was at the moment totally unprepared for such a\ncharge, and was occupied in defending an action brought by the\nbrothers Granius against my wife, Pudentilla. I perceived that these\ncharges were brought forward not so much in a serious spirit as to\ngratify my opponents' taste for wanton slander. I therefore\nstraightway challenged them, not once only, but frequently and\nemphatically, to proceed with their accusation. The result was that\nAemilianus, perceiving that you, Maximus, not to speak of others, were\nstrongly moved by what had occurred, and that his words had created a\nserious scandal, began to be alarmed and to seek for some safe refuge\nfrom the consequences of his rashness.\n\n2. Therefore as soon as he was compelled to set his name to the\nindictment, he conveniently forgot Pontianus, his own brother's son,\nof whose death he had been continually accusing me only a few days\npreviously. He made absolutely no mention of the death of his young\nkinsman[6]; he abandoned this most serious charge, but--to avoid the\nappearance of having totally abandoned his mendacious accusations--he\nselected, as the sole support of his indictment, the charge of\nmagic--a charge with which it is easy to create a prejudice against\nthe accused, but which it is hard to prove. Even that he had not the\ncourage to do openly in his own person, but a day later presented the\nindictment in the name of my step-son, Sicinius Pudens, a mere boy,\nadding that he appeared as his representative. This is a new method.\nHe attacks me through the agency of a third person, whose tender age\nhe employs to shield his unworthy self against a charge of false\naccusation. You, Maximus, with great acuteness saw through his designs\nand ordered him to renew his original accusation in person. In spite\nof his promise to comply, he cannot be induced to come to close\nquarters, but actually defies your authority and continues to skirmish\nat long range with his false accusations. He persistently shirks the\nperilous task of a direct attack, and perseveres in his assumption of\nthe safe role of the accuser's legal representative. As a result, even\nbefore the case came into court, the real nature of the accusation\nbecame obvious to the meanest understanding. The man who invented the\ncharge and was the first to utter it had not the courage to take the\nresponsibility for it. Moreover the man in question is Sicinius\nAemilianus, who, if he had discovered any true charge against me,\nwould scarcely have been so backward in accusing a stranger of so many\nserious crimes, seeing that he falsely asserted his own uncle's will\nto be a forgery although he knew it to be genuine: indeed he\nmaintained this assertion with such obstinate violence, that even\nafter that distinguished senator, Lollius Urbicus, in accordance with\nthe decision of the distinguished consulars, his assessors, had\ndeclared the will to be genuine and duly proven, he continued--such\nwas his mad fury--in defiance of the award given by the voice of that\nmost distinguished citizen, to assert with oaths that the will was a\nforgery. It was only with difficulty that Lollius Urbicus refrained\nfrom making him suffer for it.\n\n[Footnote 6: I conjecture: _de morte cognati adolescentis subito\ntacens tanti criminis descriptione destitit, ne tamen omnino desistere\ncalumnia magiam, &c._]\n\n3. I rely, Maximus, on your sense of justice and on my own innocence,\nbut I hope that in this trial also we shall hear the voice of Lollius\nraised impulsively in my defence; for Aemilianus is deliberately\naccusing a man whom he knows to be innocent, a course which comes the\nmore easy to him, since, as I have told you, he has already been\nconvicted of lying in a most important case, heard before the Prefect\nof the city. Just as a good man studiously avoids the repetition of a\nsin once committed, so men of depraved character repeat their past\noffence with increased confidence, and, I may add, the more often they\ndo so, the more openly they display their impudence. For honour is\nlike a garment; the older it gets, the more carelessly it is worn. I\nthink it my duty, therefore, in the interest of my own honour, to\nrefute all my opponent's slanders before I come to the actual\nindictment itself. For I am pleading not merely my own cause, but that\nof philosophy as well, philosophy, whose grandeur is such that she\nresents even the slightest slur cast upon her perfection as though it\nwere the most serious accusation. Knowing this, Aemilianus' advocates,\nonly a short time ago, poured forth with all their usual loquacity a\nflood of drivelling accusations, many of which were specially invented\nfor the purpose of blackening my character, while the remainder were\nsuch general charges as the uninstructed are in the habit of levelling\nat philosophers. It is true that we may regard these accusations as\nmere interested vapourings, bought at a price and uttered to prove\ntheir shamelessness worthy of its hire. It is a recognized practice on\nthe part of professional accusers to let out the venom of their\ntongues to another's hurt; nevertheless, if only in my own interest, I\nmust briefly refute these slanders, lest I, whose most earnest\nendeavour it is to avoid incurring the slightest spot or blemish to my\nfair fame, should seem, by passing over some of their more ridiculous\ncharges, to have tacitly admitted their truth, rather than to have\ntreated them with silent contempt. For a man who has any sense of\nhonour or self-respect must needs--such at least is my opinion--feel\nannoyed when he is thus abused, however falsely. Even those whose\nconscience reproaches them with some crime, are strongly moved to\nanger, when men speak ill of them, although they have been accustomed\nto such ill report ever since they became evildoers. And even though\nothers say naught of their crimes, they are conscious enough that such\ncharges may at any time deservedly be brought against them. It is\ntherefore doubly vexatious to the good and innocent man when charges\nare undeservedly brought against him which he might with justice bring\nagainst others. For his ears are unused and strange to ill report, and\nhe is so accustomed to hear himself praised that insult is more than\nhe can bear. If, however, I seem to be anxious to rebut charges which\nare merely frivolous and foolish, the blame must be laid at the door\nof those, to whom such accusations, in spite of their triviality, can\nonly bring disgrace. I am not to blame. Ridiculous as these charges\nmay be, their refutation cannot but do me honour.\n\n4. To begin then, only a short while ago, at the commencement of the\nindictment, you heard them say, 'He, whom we accuse in your court, is\na philosopher of the most elegant appearance and a master of eloquence\nnot merely in Latin but also in Greek!' What a damning insinuation!\nUnless I am mistaken, those were the very words with which Tannonius\nPudens, whom no one could accuse of being a master of eloquence, began\nthe indictment. I wish that these serious reproaches of beauty and\neloquence had been true. It would have been easy to answer in the\nwords, with which Homer makes Paris reply to Hector:--\n\n     [Greek: ou toi apoblet' esti theon erikudea dora.\n     hossa ken autoi dosin, hekon d' ouk an tis heloito].--\n\nwhich I may interpret thus: 'The most glorious gifts of the gods are\nin no wise to be despised; but the things which they are wont to give\nare withheld from many that would gladly possess them.' Such would\nhave been my reply. I should have added that philosophers are not\nforbidden to possess a handsome face. Pythagoras, the first to take\nthe name of 'philosopher', was the handsomest man of his day. Zeno\nalso, the ancient philosopher of Velia, who was the first to discover\nthat most ingenious device of refuting hypotheses by the method of\nself-inconsistency, that same Zeno was--so Plato asserts--by far the\nmost striking in appearance of all the men of his generation. It is\nfurther recorded of many other philosophers that they were comely of\ncountenance and added fresh charm to their personal beauty by their\nbeauty of character. But such a defence is, as I have already said,\nfar from me. Not only has nature given me but a commonplace\nappearance, but continued literary labour has swept away such charm as\nmy person ever possessed, has reduced me to a lean habit of body,\nsucked away all the freshness of life, destroyed my complexion and\nimpaired my vigour. As to my hair, which they with unblushing\nmendacity declare I have allowed to grow long as an enhancement to my\npersonal attractions, you can judge of its elegance and beauty. As you\nsee, it is tangled, twisted and unkempt like a lump of tow, shaggy and\nirregular in length, so knotted and matted that the tangle is past the\nart of man to unravel. This is due not to mere carelessness in the\ntiring of my hair, but to the fact that I never so much as comb or\npart it. I think this is a sufficient refutation of the accusations\nconcerning my hair which they hurl against me as though it were a\ncapital charge.\n\n5. As to my eloquence--if only eloquence were mine--it would be small\nmatter either for wonder or envy if I, who from my earliest years to\nthe present moment have devoted myself with all my powers to the sole\nstudy of literature and for this spurned all other pleasures, had\nsought to win eloquence to be mine with toil such as few or none have\never expended, ceasing neither night nor day, to the neglect and\nimpairment of my bodily health. But my opponents need fear nothing\nfrom my eloquence. If I have made any real advance therein, it is my\naspirations rather than my attainments on which I must base my claim.\nCertainly if the aphorism said to occur in the poems of Statius\nCaecilius be true, that innocence is eloquence itself, to that extent\nI may lay claim to eloquence and boast that I yield to none. For on\nthat assumption what living man could be more eloquent than myself? I\nhave never even harboured in my thoughts anything to which I should\nfear to give utterance. Nay, my eloquence is consummate, for I have\never held all sin in abomination; I have the highest oratory at my\ncommand, for I have uttered no word, I have done no deed, of which I\nneed fear to discourse in public. I will begin therefore to discourse\nof those verses of mine, which they have produced as though they were\nsomething of which I ought to be ashamed. You must have noticed the\nlaughter with which I showed my annoyance at the absurd and illiterate\nmanner in which they recited them.\n\n6. They began by reading one of my _jeux d'esprit_, a brief letter in\nverse, addressed to a certain Calpurnianus on the subject of a\ntooth-powder. When Calpurnianus produced my letter as evidence against\nme, his desire to do me a hurt blinded him to the fact that if\nanything in the letter could be urged as a reproach against me, he\nshared in that reproach. For the verses testify to the fact that he\nhad asked me to send him the wherewithal to clean his teeth:\n\n     _Good morrow! friend Calpurnianus, take\n     The salutation these swift verses make.\n     Wherewith I send, responsive to thy call,\n     A powder rare to cleanse thy teeth withal.\n     This delicate dust of Arab spices fine\n     With ivory sheen shall make thy mouth to shine,\n     Shall smooth the swollen gums and sweep away\n     The relics of the feast of yesterday.\n     So shall no foulness, no dark smirch be seen,\n     If laughter show thy teeth their lips between._\n\nI ask you, what is there in these verses that is disgusting in point\neither of matter or of manner? What is there that a philosopher should\nbe ashamed to own? Unless indeed I am to blame for sending a powder\nmade of Arabian spices to Calpurnianus, for whom it would be more\nsuitable that he should\n\n     _Polish his teeth and ruddy gums_,\n\nas Catullus says, after the filthy fashion in vogue among the\nIberians.\n\n7. I saw a short while back that some of you could scarcely restrain\nyour laughter, when our orator treated these views of mine on the\ncleansing of the teeth as a matter for savage denunciation, and\ncondemned my administration of a tooth-powder with fiercer indignation\nthan has ever been shown in condemning the administration of a poison.\nOf course it is a serious charge, and one that no philosopher can\nafford to despise, to say of a man that he will not allow a speck of\ndirt to be seen upon his person, that he will not allow any visible\nportion of his body to be offensive or unclean, least of all the\nmouth, the organ used most frequently, openly and conspicuously by\nman, whether to kiss a friend, to conduct a conversation, to speak in\npublic, or to offer up prayer in some temple. Indeed speech is the\nprelude to every kind of action and, as the greatest of poets says,\nproceeds from 'the barrier of our teeth'. If there were any one\npresent here to-day with like command of the grand style, he might say\nafter his fashion that those above all men who have any care for their\nmanner of speaking, should pay closer attention to their mouth than to\nany other portion of their body, for it is the soul's antechamber, the\nportal of speech, and the gathering place where thoughts assemble. I\nmyself should say that in my poor judgement there is nothing less\nseemly for a free-born man with the education of a gentleman than an\nunwashen mouth. For man's mouth is in position exalted, to the eye\nconspicuous, in use eloquent. True, in wild beasts and cattle the\nmouth is placed low and looks downward to the feet, is in close\nproximity to their food and to the path they tread, and is hardly\never conspicuous save when its owner is dead or infuriated with a\ndesire to bite. But there is no part of man that sooner catches the\neye when he is silent, or more often when he speaks.\n\n8. I should be obliged, therefore, if my critic Aemilianus would\nanswer me and tell me whether he is ever in the habit of washing his\nfeet, or, if he admits that he is in the habit of so doing, whether he\nis prepared to argue that a man should pay more attention to the\ncleanliness of his feet than to that of his teeth. Certainly, if like\nyou, Aemilianus, he never opens his mouth save to utter slander and\nabuse, I should advise him to pay no attention to the state of his\nmouth nor to attempt to remove the stains from his teeth with oriental\npowders: he would be better employed in rubbing them with charcoal\nfrom some funeral pyre. Least of all should he wash them with common\nwater; rather let his guilty tongue, the chosen servant of lies and\nbitter words, rot in the filth and ordure that it loves! Is it\nreasonable, wretch, that your tongue should be fresh and clean, when\nyour voice is foul and loathsome, or that, like the viper, you should\nemploy snow-white teeth for the emission of dark, deadly poison? On\nthe other hand it is only right that, just as we wash a vessel that is\nto hold good liquor, he who knows that his words will be at once\nuseful and agreeable should cleanse his mouth as a prelude to speech.\nBut why should I speak further of man? Even the crocodile, the monster\nof the Nile--so they tell me--opens his jaws in all innocence, that\nhis teeth may be cleaned. For his mouth being large, tongueless, and\ncontinually open in the water, multitudes of leeches become entangled\nin his teeth: these, when the crocodile emerges from the river and\nopens his mouth, are removed by a friendly waterbird, which is allowed\nto insert its beak without any risk to itself.\n\n9. But enough of this! I now come to certain other of my verses, which\naccording to them are amatory; but so vilely and coarsely did they\nread them as to leave no impression save one of disgust. Now what has\nit to do with the malpractices of the black art, if I write poems in\npraise of the boys of my friend Scribonius Laetus? Does the mere fact\nof my being a poet make me a wizard? Who ever heard any orator produce\nsuch likely ground for suspicion, such apt conjectures, such\nclose-reasoned argument? 'Apuleius has written verses!' If they are\nbad, that is something against him _qua_ poet, but not _qua_\nphilosopher. If they be good, why do you accuse him? 'But they were\nfrivolous verses of an erotic character.' So that is the charge you\nbring against me? and it was a mere slip of the tongue when you\nindicted me for practising the black art? And yet many others have\nwritten such verse, although you may be ignorant of the fact. Among\nthe Greeks, for instance, there was a certain Teian, there was a\nLacedaemonian, a Cean, and countless others; there was even a woman, a\nLesbian, who wrote with such grace and such passion that the sweetness\nof her song makes us forgive the impropriety of her words; among our\nown poets there were Aedituus, Porcius, and Catulus, with countless\nothers. 'But they were not philosophers.' Will you then deny that\nSolon was a serious man and a philosopher? Yet he is the author of\nthat most wanton verse:\n\n     _Longing for thy body and the kiss of thy sweet lips._\n\nWhat is there so lascivious in all my verses compared with that one\nline? I will say nothing of the writings of Diogenes the Cynic, of\nZeno the founder of Stoicism, and many other similar instances. Let me\nrecite my own verses afresh, that my opponents may realize that I am\nnot ashamed of them:\n\n     _Critias my treasure is and you,\n     Light of my life, Charinus, too\n     Hold in my love-tormented heart\n     Your own inalienable part.\n     Ah! doubt not! with redoubled spite\n     Though fire on fire consume me quite,\n     The flames ye kindle, boys divine,\n     I can endure, so ye be mine.\n     Only to each may I be dear\n     As your own selves are, and as near;\n     Grant only this and you shall be\n     Dear as mine own two eyes to me._\n\nNow let me read you the others also which they read last as being the\nmost intemperate in expression.\n\n     _I lay these garlands, Critias sweet,\n     And this my song before thy feet;\n     Song to thyself I dedicate,\n     Wreaths to the Angel of thy fate.\n     The song I send to hymn the praise\n     Of this, the best of all glad days,\n     Whereon the circling seasons bring\n     The glory of thy fourteenth spring;\n     The garlands, that thy brows may shine\n     With splendour worthy spring's and thine,\n     That thou in boyhood's golden hours\n     Mayst deck the flower of life with flowers.\n     Wherefore for these bright blooms of spring\n     Thy springtide sweet surrendering,\n     The tribute of my love repay\n     And all my gifts with thine outweigh.\n     Surpass the twined garland's grace\n     With arms entwined in soft embrace;\n     The crimson of the rose eclipse\n     With kisses from thy rosy lips.\n     Or if thou wilt, be this my meed\n     And breathe thy soul into the reed;\n     Then shall my songs be shamed and mute\n     Before the music of thy flute._\n\n10. These are the verses, Maximus, which they throw in my teeth, as\nthough they were the work of an infamous rake and had lover's garlands\nand serenades for their theme. You must have noticed also that in this\nconnexion they further attack me for calling these boys Charinus and\nCritias, which are not their true names. On this principle they may as\nwell accuse Caius Catullus for calling Clodia Lesbia, Ticidas for\nsubstituting the name Perilla for that of Metella, Propertius for\nconcealing the name Hostia beneath the pseudonym of Cynthia, and\nTibullus for singing of Delia in his verse, when it was Plania who\nruled his heart. For my part I should rather blame Caius Lucilius,\neven allowing him all the license of a satiric poet, for prostituting\nto the public gaze the boys Gentius and Macedo, whose real names he\nmentions in his verse without any attempt at concealment. How much\nmore reserved is Mantua's poet, who, when like myself he praised the\nslave-boy of his friend Pollio in one of his light pastoral poems,\nshrinks from mentioning real names and calls himself Corydon and the\nboy Alexis. But Aemilianus, whose rusticity far surpasses that of the\nshepherds and cowherds of Vergil, who is, in fact, and always has been\na boor and a barbarian, though he thinks himself far more austere than\nSerranus, Curius, or Fabricius, those heroes of the days of old,\ndenies that such verses are worthy of a philosopher who is a follower\nof Plato. Will you persist in this attitude, Aemilianus, if I can show\nthat my verses were modelled upon Plato? For the only verses of Plato\nnow extant are love-elegies, the reason, I imagine, being that he\nburned all his other poems because they were inferior in charm and\nfinish. Listen then to the verses written by Plato in honour of the\nboy Aster, though I doubt if at your age it is possible for you to\nlearn to appreciate literature:\n\n     _Thou wert the morning star among the living\n       Ere thy fair light had fled;--\n     Now having died, thou art as Hesperus giving\n       New light unto the dead._[7]\n\n[Footnote 7: Shelley's translation.]\n\nThere is another poem by Plato dealing conjointly with the boys Alexis\nand Phaedrus:\n\n     _I did but breathe the words 'Alexis fair',\n       And all men gazed on him with wondering eyes,\n       My soul, why point to questing beasts their prize?\n     'Twas thus we lost our Phaedrus; ah! beware!_\n\nWithout citing any further examples I will conclude by quoting a line\naddressed by Plato to Dion of Syracuse:\n\n     _Dion, with love thou hast distraught my soul._\n\n11. Which of us is most to blame? I who am fool enough to speak\nseriously of such things in a law-court? or you who are slanderous\nenough to include such charges in your indictment? For sportive\neffusions in verse are valueless as evidence of a poet's morals. Have\nyou not read Catullus, who replies thus to those who wish him ill:\n\n     _A virtuous poet must be chaste. Agreed.\n     But for his verses there is no such need._\n\nThe divine Hadrian, when he honoured the tomb of his friend the poet\nVoconius with an inscription in verse from his own pen, wrote thus:\n\n     _Thy verse was wanton, but thy soul was chaste_,\n\nwords which he would never have written had he regarded verse of\nsomewhat too lively a wit as proving their author to be a man of\nimmoral life. I remember that I have read not a few poems by the\ndivine Hadrian himself which were of the same type. Come now,\nAemilianus, I dare you to say that that was ill done which was done by\nan emperor and censor, the divine Hadrian, and once done was recorded\nfor subsequent generations. But, apart from that, do you imagine that\nMaximus will censure anything that has Plato for its model, Plato\nwhose verses, which I have just read, are all the purer for being\nfrank, all the more modest for being outspoken? For in these matters\nand the like, dissimulation and concealment is the mark of the sinner,\nopen acknowledgement and publication a sign that the writer is but\nexercising his wit. For nature has bestowed on innocence a voice\nwherewith to speak, but to guilt she has given silence to veil its\nsin.\n\n12. I say nothing of those lofty and divine Platonic doctrines, that\nare familiar to but few of the elect and wholly unknown to all the\nuninitiate, such for instance as that which teaches us that Venus is\nnot one goddess, but two, each being strong in her own type of love\nand several types of lovers. The one is the goddess of the common\nherd, who is fired by base and vulgar passion and commands not only\nthe hearts of men, but cattle and wild beasts also, to give themselves\nover to the gratification of their desires: she strikes down these\ncreatures with fierce intolerable force and fetters their servile\nbodies in the embraces of lust. The other is a celestial power endued\nwith lofty and generous passion: she cares for none save men, and of\nthem but few; she neither stings nor lures her followers to foul\ndeeds. Her love is neither wanton nor voluptuous, but serious and\nunadorned, and wins her lovers to the pursuit of virtue by revealing\nto them how fair a thing is nobility of soul. Or, if ever she commends\nbeautiful persons to their admiration, she puts a bar upon all\nindecorous conduct. For the only claim that physical beauty has upon\nthe admiration is that it reminds those whose souls have soared above\nthings human to things divine, of that beauty which once they beheld\nin all its truth and purity enthroned among the gods in heaven.\nWherefore let us admit that Afranius shows his usual beauty of\nexpression when he says:\n\n     _Only the sage can love, only desire\n     Is known to others_;\n\nalthough if you would know the real truth, Aemilianus, or if you are\ncapable of ever comprehending such high matters, the sage does not\nlove, but only remembers.\n\n13. I would therefore beg you to pardon the philosopher Plato for his\namatory verse, and relieve me of the necessity of offending against\nthe precepts put by Ennius into the mouth of Neoptolemus by\nphilosophizing at undue length; on the other hand if you refuse to\npardon Plato, I am quite ready to suffer blame on this count in his\ncompany. I must express my deep gratitude to you, Maximus, for\nlistening with such close attention to these side issues, which are\nnecessary to my defence inasmuch as I am paying back my accusers in\ntheir own coin. Your kindness emboldens me to make this further\nrequest, that you will listen to all that I have to say by way of\nprelude to my answer to the main charge with the same courtesy and\nattention that you have hitherto shown.\n\nI beg this, since I have next to deal with that long oration, austere\nas any censor's, which Pudens delivered on the subject of my mirror.\nHe nearly exploded, so violently did he declaim against the horrid\nnature of my offence. 'The philosopher owns a mirror, the philosopher\nactually possesses a mirror.' Grant that I possess it: if I denied it,\nyou might really think that your accusation had gone home: still it is\nby no means a necessary inference that I am in the habit of adorning\nmyself before a mirror. Why! suppose I possessed a theatrical\nwardrobe, would you venture to argue from that that I am in the\nfrequent habit of wearing the trailing robes of tragedy, the saffron\ncloak of the mimic dance, or the patchwork suit of the harlequinade? I\nthink not. On the contrary there are plenty of things of which I enjoy\nthe use without the possession. But if possession is no proof of use\nnor non-possession of non-use, and if you complain of the fact that I\nlook into the mirror rather than that I possess it, you must go on to\nshow when and in whose presence I have ever looked into it; for as\nthings stand, you make it a greater crime for a philosopher to look\nupon a mirror than for the uninitiated to gaze upon the mystic emblems\nof Ceres.\n\n14. Come now, let me admit that I _have_ looked into it. Is it a crime\nto be acquainted with one's own likeness and to carry it with one\nwherever one goes ready to hand within the compass of a small mirror,\ninstead of keeping it hidden away in some one place? Are you ignorant\nof the fact that there is nothing more pleasing for a man to look upon\nthan his own image? At any rate I know that fathers love those sons\nmost who most resemble themselves, and that public statues are decreed\nas a reward for merit that the original may gladden his heart by\nlooking on them. What else is the significance of statues and\nportraits produced by the various arts? You will scarcely maintain the\nparadox that what is worthy of admiration when produced by art is\nblameworthy when produced by nature; for nature has an even greater\nfacility and truth than art. Long labour is expended over all the\nportraits wrought by the hand of man, yet they never attain to such\ntruth as is revealed by a mirror. Clay is lacking in life, marble in\ncolour, painting in solidity, and all three in motion, which is the\nmost convincing element in a likeness: whereas in a mirror the\nreflection of the image is marvellous, for it is not only like its\noriginal, but moves and follows every nod of the man to whom it\nbelongs; its age always corresponds to that of those who look into the\nmirror, from their earliest childhood to their expiring age: it puts\non all the changes brought by the advance of years, shares all the\nvarying habits of the body, and imitates the shifting expressions of\njoy and sorrow that may be seen on the face of one and the same man.\nFor all we mould in clay or cast in bronze or carve in stone or tint\nwith encaustic pigments or colour with paint, in a word, every attempt\nat artistic representation by the hand of man after a brief lapse of\ntime loses its truth and becomes motionless and impassive like the\nface of a corpse. So far superior to all pictorial art in respect of\ntruthful representation is the craftsmanship of the smooth mirror and\nthe splendour of its art.\n\n15. Two alternatives then are before us. We must either follow the\nprecept of the Lacedaemonian Agesilaus, who had no confidence in his\npersonal appearance and refused to allow his portrait to be painted or\ncarved; or we must accept the universal custom of the rest of mankind\nwhich welcomes portraiture both in sculpture and painting. In the\nlatter case, is there any reason for preferring to see one's portrait\nmoulded in marble rather than reflected in silver, in a painting\nrather than in a mirror? Or do you regard it as disgraceful to pay\ncontinual attention to one's own appearance? Is not Socrates said\nactually to have urged his followers frequently to consider their\nimage in a glass, that so those of them that prided themselves on\ntheir appearance might above all else take care that they did no\ndishonour to the splendour of their body by the blackness of their\nhearts; while those who regarded themselves as less than handsome in\npersonal appearance might take especial pains to conceal the meanness\nof their body by the glory of their virtue? You see; the wisest man of\nhis day actually went so far as to use the mirror as an instrument of\nmoral discipline. Again, who is ignorant of the fact that Demosthenes,\nthe greatest master of the art of speaking, always practised pleading\nbefore a mirror as though before a professor of rhetoric? When that\nsupreme orator had drained deep draughts of eloquence in the study of\nPlato the philosopher, and had learned all that could be learned of\nargumentation from the dialectician Eubulides, last of all he betook\nhimself to a mirror to learn perfection of delivery. Which do you\nthink should pay greatest attention to the decorousness of his\nappearance in the delivery of a speech? The orator when he wrangles\nwith his opponent or the philosopher when he rebukes the vices of\nmankind? The man who harangues for a brief space before an audience of\njurymen drawn by the chance of the lot, or he who is continually\ndiscoursing with all mankind for audience? The man who is quarrelling\nover the boundaries of lands, or he whose theme is the boundaries of\ngood and evil? Moreover there are other reasons why a philosopher\nshould look into a mirror. He is not always concerned with the\ncontemplation of his own likeness, he contemplates also the causes\nwhich produce that likeness. Is Epicurus right when he asserts that\nimages proceed forth from us, as it were a kind of slough that\ncontinually streams from our bodies? These images when they strike\nanything smooth and solid are reflected by the shock and reversed in\nsuch wise as to give back an image turned to face its original. Or\nshould we accept the view maintained by other philosophers that rays\nare emitted from our body? According to Plato these rays are filtered\nforth from the centre of our eyes and mingle and blend with the light\nof the world without us; according to Archytas they issue forth from\nus without any external support; according to the Stoics these rays\nare called into action[8] by the tension of the air: all agree that,\nwhen these emanations strike any dense, smooth, and shining surface,\nthey return to the surface from which they proceeded in such manner\nthat the angle of incidence is equal to the angle of reflection, and\nas a result that which they approach and touch without the mirror is\nimaged within the mirror.\n\n[Footnote 8: _facti_ MSS.]\n\n16. What think you? Should not philosophers make all these problems\nsubjects of research and inquiry and in solitary study look into\nmirrors of every kind, solid and liquid? There is also over and above\nthese questions further matter for discussion. For instance, why is\nit that in flat mirrors all images and objects reflected are shown in\nalmost precisely their original dimensions, whereas in convex and\nspherical mirrors everything is seen smaller, in concave mirrors on\nthe other hand larger than nature? Why again and under what\ncircumstances are left and right reversed? When does one and the same\nmirror seem now to withdraw the image into its depths, now to extrude\nit forth to view? Why do concave mirrors when held at right angles to\nthe rays of the sun kindle tinder set opposite them? What is the cause\nof the prismatic colours of the rainbow, or of the appearance in\nheaven of two rival images of the sun, with sundry other phenomena\ntreated in a monumental volume by Archimedes of Syracuse, a man who\nshowed extraordinary and unique subtlety in all branches of geometry,\nbut was perhaps particularly remarkable for his frequent and attentive\ninspection of mirrors. If you had only read this book, Aemilianus,\nand, instead of devoting yourself to the study of your fields and\ntheir dull clods, had studied the mathematician's slate and\nblackboard, believe me, although your face is hideous enough for a\ntragic mask of Thyestes, you would assuredly, in your desire for the\nacquisition of knowledge, look into the glass and sometimes leave your\nplough to marvel at the numberless furrows with which wrinkles have\nscored your face.\n\nBut I should not be surprised if you prefer me to speak of your ugly\ndeformity of a face and to be silent about your morals, which are\ninfinitely more repulsive than your features. I will say nothing of\nthem. In the first place I am not naturally of a quarrelsome\ndisposition, and secondly I am glad to say that until quite recently\nyou might have been white or black for all I knew. Even now my\nknowledge of you is inadequate. The reason for this is that your\nrustic occupations have kept you in obscurity, while _I_ have been\noccupied by my studies, and so the shadow cast about you by your\ninsignificance has shielded your character from scrutiny, while I for\nmy part take no interest in others' ill deeds, but have always thought\nit more important to conceal my own faults than to track out those of\nothers. As a result you have the advantage of one who, while he is\nhimself shrouded in darkness, surveys another who chances to have\ntaken his stand in the full light of day. You from your darkness can\nwith ease form an opinion as to what I am doing in my not\nundistinguished position before all the world; but your position is so\nabject, so obscure, and so withdrawn from the light of publicity that\nyou are by no means so conspicuous.\n\n17. I neither know nor care to know whether you have slaves to till\nyour fields or whether you do so by interchange of service with your\nneighbours. But _you_ know that at Oea I gave three slaves their\nfreedom on the same day, and your advocate has cast it in my teeth\ntogether with other actions of mine of which you have given him\ninformation. And yet but a few minutes earlier he had declared that I\ncame to Oea accompanied by no more than one slave. I challenge you to\ntell me how I could have made one slave into three free men. But\nperhaps this is one of my feats of magic. Has lying made you blind, or\nshall I rather say that from force of habit you are incapable of\nspeaking the truth? 'Apuleius,' you say, 'came to Oea with one slave,'\nand then only a very few words later you blurt out, 'Apuleius on one\nand the same day at Oea gave three slaves their freedom.' Not even the\nassertion that I had come with three slaves and had given them all\ntheir freedom would have been credible: but suppose I had done so,\nwhat reason have you for regarding three slaves as a mark of my\npoverty, rather than for considering three freed men as a proof of my\nwealth? Poor Aemilianus, you have not the least idea how to accuse a\nphilosopher: you reproach me for the scantiness of my household,\nwhereas it would really have been my duty to have laid claim, however\nfalsely, to such poverty. It would have redounded to my credit, for I\nknow that not only philosophers of whom I boast myself a follower, but\nalso generals of the Roman people have gloried in the small number of\ntheir slaves. Have your advocates really never read that Marcus\nAntonius, a man who had filled the office of consul, had but eight\nslaves in his house? That that very Carbo who obtained supreme control\nof Rome had fewer by one? That Manius Curius, famous beyond all men\nfor the crowns of victory that he had won, Manius Curius who thrice\nled the triumphal procession through the same gate of Rome, had but\ntwo servants to attend him in camp, so that in good truth that same\nman who triumphed over the Sabines, the Samnites, and Pyrrhus had\nfewer slaves than triumphs? Marcus Cato did not wait for others to\ntell it of him, but himself records the fact in one of his speeches\nthat when he set out as consul for Spain he took but three slaves from\nthe city with him. When, however, he came to stay at a state\nresidence, the number seemed insufficient, and he ordered two slaves\nto be bought in the market to wait on him at table, so that he took\nfive in all to Spain. Had Pudens come across these facts in his\nreading, he would, I think, either have omitted this particular\nslander or would have preferred to reproach me on the ground that\nthree slaves were too large rather than too small an establishment for\na philosopher.\n\n18. Pudens actually reproached me with being poor, a charge which is\nwelcome to a philosopher and one that he may glory in. For poverty has\nlong been the handmaid of philosophy; frugal and sober, she is strong\nin her weakness and is greedy for naught save honour; the possession\nof her is a prophylactic against wealth, her mien is free from care,\nand her adornment simple; her counsels are beneficent, she puffs no\nman up with pride, she corrupts no man with passions beyond his\ncontrol, she maddens no man with the lust for power, she neither\ndesires nor can indulge in the pleasures of feasting and of love.\nThese sins and their like are usually the nurslings of wealth. Count\nover all the greatest crimes recorded in the history of mankind, you\nwill find no poor man among their guilty authors. On the other hand,\nit is rare to find wealthy men among the great figures of history. All\nthose at whom we marvel for their great deeds were the nurslings of\npoverty from their very cradles, poverty that founded all cities in\nthe days of old, poverty mother of all arts, witless of all sin,\nbestower of all glory, crowned with all honour among all the peoples\nof the world. Take the history of Greece: the justice of poverty is\nseen in Aristides, her benignity in Phocion, her force in Epaminondas,\nher wisdom in Socrates, her eloquence in Homer. It was this same\npoverty that established the empire of the Roman people in its first\nbeginnings, and even to this day Rome offers up thanksgivings for it\nto the immortal gods with libations poured from a wooden ladle and\nofferings borne in an earthen platter. If the judges sitting to try\nthis case were Caius Fabricius, Cnaeus Scipio, Manius Curius, whose\ndaughters on account of their poverty were given dowries from the\npublic treasury and so went to their husbands bringing with them the\nhonour of their houses and the wealth of the state; if Publicola, who\ndrove out the Kings, or Agrippa, the healer of the people's strife,\nmen whose funerals were on account of their poverty enriched by the\ngift of a few farthings per man from the whole Roman people; if\nAtilius Regulus, whose lands on account of his own poverty were\ncultivated at the public expense; if, in a word, all the heroes of the\nold Roman stock, consuls and censors and triumphant generals, were\ngiven a brief renewal of life and sent back to earth to give hearing\nto this case, would you dare in the presence of so many poor consuls\nto reproach a philosopher with poverty?\n\n19. Perhaps Claudius Maximus seems to you to be a suitable person\nbefore whom to deride poverty, because he himself is in enjoyment of\ngreat wealth and enormous opulence. You are wrong, Aemilianus, you are\nwholly mistaken in your estimate of his character, if you take the\nbounty of his fortune rather than the sternness of his philosophy as\nthe standard for your judgement and fail to realize that one, who\nholds so austere a creed and has so long endured military service, is\nmore likely to befriend a moderate fortune with all its limitations\nthan opulence with all its luxury, and holds that fortunes, like\ntunics, should be comfortable, not long. For even a tunic, if it be\nnot carried high, but is allowed to drag, will entangle and trip the\nfeet as badly as a cloak that hangs down in front. In everything that\nwe employ for the needs of daily life, whatever exceeds the mean is\nsuperfluous and a burden rather than a help. So it is that excessive\nriches, like steering oars of too great weight and bulk, serve to sink\nthe ship rather than to guide it; for their bulk is unprofitable and\ntheir superfluity a curse. I have noticed that of the wealthy\nthemselves those win most praise who live quietly and in moderate\ncomfort, concealing their actual resources, administering their great\npossessions without ostentation or pride and showing like poor folk\nunder the disguise of their moderation. Now, if even the rich to some\nextent affect the outward form and semblance of poverty to give\nevidence of their moderation, why should we of slenderer means be\nashamed of being poor not in appearance only but in reality?\n\n20. I might even engage with you in controversy over the word poverty,\nurging that no man is poor who rejects the superfluous and has at his\ncommand all the necessities of life, which nature has ordained should\nbe exceedingly small. For he who desires least will possess most,\ninasmuch as he who wants but little will have all he wants. The\nmeasure of wealth ought therefore not to be the possession of lands\nand investments, but the very soul of man. For if avarice make him\ncontinually in need of some fresh acquisition and insatiable in his\nlust for gain, not even mountains of gold will bring him satisfaction,\nbut he will always be begging for more that he may increase what he\nalready possesses. That is _the_ genuine admission of poverty. For\nevery desire for fresh acquisition springs from the consciousness of\nwant, and it matters little how large your possessions are if they are\ntoo small for _you_. Philus had a far smaller household than Laelius,\nLaelius than Scipio, Scipio than Crassus the Rich, and yet not even\nCrassus had as much as he wanted; and so, though he surpassed all\nothers in wealth, he was himself surpassed by his own avarice and\nseemed rich to all save himself. On the other hand, the philosophers\nof whom I have spoken wanted nothing beyond what was at their\ndisposal, and, thanks to the harmony existing between their desires\nand their resources, they were deservedly rich and happy. For poverty\nconsists in the need for fresh acquisition, wealth in the satisfaction\nspringing from the absence of needs. For the badge of penury is\ndesire, the badge of wealth contempt. Therefore, Aemilianus, if you\nwish me to be regarded as poor, you must first prove that I am\navaricious. But if my soul lacks nothing, I care little how much of\nthe goods of this world be lacking to me; for it is no honour to\npossess them and no reproach to lack them.\n\n21. But let us suppose it to be otherwise. Suppose that I am poor,\nbecause fortune has grudged me riches, because my guardian, as often\nhappens, misappropriated my inheritance, some enemy robbed me, or my\nfather left me nothing. Is it just to reproach a man for that which is\nregarded as no reproach to the animal kingdom, to the eagle, to the\nbull, to the lion? If the horse be strong in the possession of his\npeculiar excellences, if he is pleasant to ride and swift in his\npaces, no one rebukes him for the poverty of his food. Must you then\nreproach me, not for any scandalous word or deed, but simply because I\nlive in a small house, possess an unusually small number of slaves,\nsubsist on unusually light diet, wear unusually light clothing, and\nmake unusually small purchases of food? Yet however scanty my service,\nfood, and raiment may seem to you, I on the contrary regard them as\nample and even excessive. Indeed I am desirous of still further\nreducing them, since the less I have to distract me the happier I\nshall be. For the soul, like the body, goes lightly clad when in good\nhealth; weakness wraps itself up, and it is a sure sign of infirmity\nto have many wants. We live, just as we swim, all the better for being\nbut lightly burdened. For in this stormy life as on the stormy ocean\nheavy things sink us and light things buoy us up. It is in this\nrespect, I find, that the gods more especially surpass men, namely\nthat they lack nothing: wherefore he of mankind whose needs are\nsmallest is most like unto the gods.\n\n22. I therefore regarded it as a compliment when to insult me you\nasserted that my whole household consisted of a wallet and a staff.\nWould that my spirit were made of such stern stuff as to permit me to\ndispense with all this furniture and worthily to carry that equipment\nfor which Crates sacrificed all his wealth! Crates, I tell you, though\nI doubt if you will believe me, Aemilianus, was a man of great wealth\nand honour among the nobility of Thebes; but for love of this habit,\nwhich you cast in my face as a crime, he gave his large and luxurious\nhousehold to his fellow citizens, resigned his troops of slaves for\nsolitude, so contemned the countless trees of his rich orchards as to\nbe content with one staff, exchanged his elegant villas for one small\nwallet, which, when he had fully appreciated its utility, he even\npraised in song by diverting from their original meaning certain lines\nof Homer in which he extols the island of Crete. I will quote the\nfirst lines, that you may not think this a mere invention of mine\ndesigned to meet the needs of my own case:\n\n     _There is a town named Wallet in the midst\n     Of smoke that's dark as wine._\n\nThe lines which follow are so wonderful, that had you read them you\nwould envy me my wallet even more than you envy me my marriage with\nPudentilla. You reproach philosophers for their staff and wallet. You\nmight as well reproach cavalry for their trappings, infantry for their\nshields, standard-bearers for their banners, triumphant generals for\ntheir chariots drawn by four white horses and their cloaks embroidered\nwith palm-leaves. The staff and wallet are not, it is true, carried by\nthe Platonic philosophers, but are the badges of the Cynic school. To\nDiogenes and Antisthenes they were what the crown is to the king, the\ncloak of purple to the general, the cowl to the priest, the trumpet to\nthe augur. Indeed the Cynic Diogenes, when he disputed with Alexander\nthe Great, as to which of the two was the true king, boasted of his\nstaff as the true sceptre. The unconquered Hercules himself, since you\ndespise my instances as drawn from mere mendicancy, Hercules that\nroamed the whole world, exterminated monsters, and conquered races,\ngod though he was, had but a skin for raiment and a staff for company\nin the days when he wandered through the earth. And yet but a brief\nwhile afterwards he was admitted to heaven as a reward for his virtue.\n\n23. But if you despise these examples and challenge me, not to plead\nmy case, but to enter into a discussion of the amount of my fortune,\nto put an end to your ignorance on this point, if it exists, I\nacknowledge that my father left my brother and myself a little under\n2,000,000 sesterces--a sum on which my lengthy travels, continual\nstudies, and frequent generosity have made considerable inroads. For I\nhave often assisted my friends and have shown substantial gratitude to\nmany of my instructors, on more than one occasion going so far as to\nprovide dowries for their daughters. Nay, I should not have hesitated\nto expend every farthing of my patrimony, if so I might acquire, what\nis far better, a contempt for it. But as for you, Aemilianus, and\nignorant boors of your kidney, in your case the fortune makes the man.\nYou are like barren and blasted trees that produce no fruit, but are\nvalued only for the timber that their trunks contain. But I beg you,\nAemilianus, in future to abstain from reviling any one for their\npoverty, since you yourself used, after waiting for some seasonable\nshower to soften the ground, to expend three days in ploughing\nsingle-handed, with the aid of one wretched ass, that miserable farm\nat Zarath, which was all your father left you. It is only recently\nthat fortune has smiled on you in the shape of wholly undeserved\ninheritances which have fallen to you by the frequent deaths of\nrelatives, deaths to which, far more than to your hideous face, you\nowe your nickname of Charon.\n\n24. As to my birthplace, you assert that my writings prove it to lie\nright on the marches of Numidia and Gaetulia, for I publicly\ndescribed myself as half Numidian, half Gaetulian in a discourse\ndelivered in the presence of that most distinguished citizen Lollianus\nAvitus. I do not see that I have any more reason to be ashamed of that\nthan had the elder Cyrus for being of mixed descent, half Mede, half\nPersian. A man's birthplace is of no importance, it is his character\nthat matters. We must consider not in what part of the world, but with\nwhat purpose he set out to live his life. Vendors of wine and cabbages\nare permitted to enhance the value of their wares by advertising the\nexcellence of the soil whence they spring, as for instance with the\nwine of Thasos and the cabbages of Phlius. For those products of the\nsoil are wonderfully improved in flavour by the fertility of the\ndistrict which produces them, the moistness of the climate, the\nmildness of the winds, the warmth of the sun, and the richness of the\nsoil. But in the case of man, the soul enters the tenement of the body\nfrom without. What, then, can such circumstances as these add to or\ntake away from his virtues or his vices? Has there ever been a time or\nplace in which a race has not produced a variety of intellects,\nalthough some races seem stupider and some wiser than others? The\nScythians are the stupidest of men, and yet the wise Anacharsis was a\nScyth. The Athenians are shrewd, and yet the Athenian Meletides was a\nfool. I say this not because I am ashamed of my country, since even in\nthe time of Syphax we were a township. When he was conquered we were\ntransferred by the gift of the Roman people to the dominion of King\nMasinissa, and finally as the result of a settlement of veteran\nsoldiers, our second founders, we have become a colony of the highest\ndistinction. In this same colony my father attained to the post of\n_duumvir_ and became the foremost citizen of the place, after filling\nall the municipal offices of honour. I myself, immediately after my\nfirst entry into the municipal senate, succeeded to my father's\nposition in the community, and, as I hope, am in no ways a degenerate\nsuccessor, but receive like honour and esteem for my maintenance of\nthe dignity of my position. Why do I mention this? That you,\nAemilianus, may be less angry with me in future and may more readily\npardon me for having been negligent enough not to select your 'Attic'\nZarath for my birthplace.\n\n25. Are you not ashamed to produce such accusations with such violence\nbefore such a judge, to bring forward frivolous and self-contradictory\naccusations, and then in the same breath to blame me on both charges\nat once? Is it not a sheer contradiction to object to my wallet and\nstaff on the ground of austerity, to my poems and mirror on the ground\nof undue levity; to accuse me of parsimony for having only one slave,\nand of extravagance in having three; to denounce me for my Greek\neloquence and my barbarian birth? Awake from your slumber and remember\nthat you are speaking before Claudius Maximus, a man of stern\ncharacter, burdened with the business of the whole province. Cease, I\nsay, to bring forward these empty slanders. Prove your indictment,\nprove that I am guilty of ghastly crimes, detestable sorceries, and\nblack art-magic. Why is it that the strength of your speech lies in\nmere noise, while it is weak and flabby in point of facts?\n\nI will now deal with the actual charge of magic. You spared no\nviolence in fanning the flame of hatred against me. But you have\ndisappointed all men's expectations by your old wives' fables, and the\nfire kindled by your accusations has burned itself away. I ask you,\nMaximus, have you ever seen fire spring up among the stubble,\ncrackling sharply, blazing wide and spreading fast, but soon\nexhausting its flimsy fuel, dying fast away, leaving not a wrack\nbehind? So they have kindled their accusation with abuse and fanned it\nwith words, but it lacks the fuel of facts and, your verdict once\ngiven, is destined to leave not a wrack of calumny behind. The whole\nof Aemilianus' calumnious accusation was centred in the charge of\nmagic. I should therefore like to ask his most learned advocates how,\nprecisely, they would define a magician. If what I read in a large\nnumber of authors be true, namely, that magician is the Persian word\nfor priest, what is there criminal in being a priest and having due\nknowledge, science, and skill in all ceremonial law, sacrificial\nduties, and the binding rules of religion, at least if magic consists\nin that which Plato sets forth in his description of the methods\nemployed by the Persians in the education of their young princes? I\nremember the very words of that divine philosopher. Let me recall them\nto your memory, Maximus: 'When the boy has reached the age of\nfourteen he is handed over to the care of men known as the Royal\nMasters. They are four in number, and are chosen as being the best of\nthe elders of Persia, one the wisest, another the justest, a third the\nmost temperate, a fourth the bravest. And one of these teaches the boy\nthe magic of Zoroaster the son of Oromazes; and this magic is no other\nthan the worship of the gods. He also teaches him the arts of\nkingship.'\n\n26. Do you hear, you who so rashly accuse the art of magic? It is an\nart acceptable to the immortal gods, full of all knowledge of worship\nand of prayer, full of piety and wisdom in things divine, full of\nhonour and glory since the day when Zoroaster and Oromazes established\nit, high-priestess of the powers of heaven. Nay, it is one of the\nfirst elements of princely instruction, nor do they lightly admit any\nchance person to be a magician, any more than they would admit him to\nbe a king. Plato--if I may quote him again--in another passage dealing\nwith a certain Zalmoxis, a Thracian and also a master of this art, has\nwritten that 'magical charms are merely beautiful words'. If that is\nso, why should I be forbidden to learn the fair words of Zalmoxis or\nthe priestly lore of Zoroaster? But if these accusers of mine, after\nthe fashion of the common herd, define a magician as one who by\ncommunion of speech with the immortal gods has power to do all the\nmarvels that he will, through a strange power of incantation, I really\nwonder that they are not afraid to attack one whom they acknowledge\nto be so powerful. For it is impossible to guard against such a\nmysterious and divine power. Against other dangers we may take\nadequate precautions. He who summons a murderer before the judge comes\ninto court with an escort of friends; he who denounces a poisoner is\nunusually careful as to what he eats; he who accuses a thief sets a\nguard over his possessions. But for the man who exposes a magician,\ncredited with such awful powers, to the danger of a capital sentence,\nhow can escort or precaution or watchmen save him from unforeseen and\ninevitable disaster? Nothing can save him, and therefore the man who\nbelieves in the truth of such a charge as this is certainly the last\nperson in the world who should bring such an accusation.\n\n27. But it is a common and general error of the uninitiated to bring\nthe following accusations against philosophers. Some of them think\nthat those who explore the origins and elements of material things are\nirreligious, and assert that they deny the existence of the gods.\nTake, for instance, the cases of Anaxagoras, Leucippus, Democritus,\nand Epicurus, and other natural philosophers. Others call those\nmagicians who bestow unusual care on the investigation of the workings\nof providence and unusual devotion on their worship of the gods, as\nthough, forsooth, they knew _how_ to perform everything that they know\nactually to _be_ performed. So Epimenides, Orpheus, Pythagoras, and\nOstanes were regarded as magicians, while a similar suspicion attached\nto the 'purifications' of Empedocles, the 'demon' of Socrates and the\n'good' of Plato. I congratulate myself therefore on being admitted to\nsuch distinguished company.\n\nI fear, however, Maximus, that you may regard the empty, ridiculous\nand childish[9] fictions which my opponents have advanced in support\nof their case as serious charges merely because they have been put\nforward. 'Why,' says my accuser, 'have you sought out particular kinds\nof fish?' Why should not a philosopher be permitted to do for the\nsatisfaction of his desire for knowledge what the _gourmand_, is\npermitted to do for the satisfaction of his gluttony? 'What,' he asks,\n'induced a free woman to marry you after thirteen years of widowhood?'\n'Surely,' I answer, 'it is more remarkable that she should have\nremained a widow so long.' 'Why, before she married you, did she\nexpress certain opinions in a letter?' 'Is it reasonable,' I ask, 'to\ndemand of any one the reasons of another person's private opinions?'\n'But,' he goes on, 'although she was your senior in years, she did not\ndespise your youth.' Surely this simply serves to show that there was\nno need of magic to induce a woman to marry a man, or a widow to wed a\nbachelor some years her junior. There are more charges equally\nfrivolous. 'Apuleius,' he persists, 'keeps a mysterious object in his\nhouse which he worships with veneration.' Surely it would be a worse\noffence to have nothing to worship at all. 'A boy fell to the ground\nin Apuleius' presence.' What if a young man or even an old man had\nfallen in my presence through a sudden stroke of disease or merely\nowing to the slipperiness of the ground? Do you really think to prove\nyour charge of magic by such arguments as these; the fall of a\nwretched boy, my marriage to my wife, my purchases of fish?\n\n[Footnote 9: _et simplicia_, vulgo.]\n\n28. I should run but small risk if I were to content myself with what\nI have already said and begin my peroration. But since as a result of\nthe length at which my accusers spoke, the water-clock still allows me\nplenty of time, let us, if there is no objection, consider the charges\nin detail. I will deny none of them, be they true or false. I will\nassume their truth, that this great crowd, which has gathered from all\ndirections to hear this case, may clearly understand not only that no\ntrue incrimination can be brought against philosophers, but that not\neven any false charge can be fabricated against them, which--such is\ntheir confidence in their innocence--they will not be prepared to\nadmit and to defend, even though it be in their power to deny it. I\nwill therefore begin by refuting their arguments, and will prove that\nthey have nothing to do with magic. Next I will show that even on the\nassumption of my being the most consummate magician, I have never\ngiven cause or occasion for conviction of any evil practice. I will\nalso deal with the lies with which they have endeavoured to arouse\nhostility against me, with their misquotation and misinterpretation of\nmy wife's letters, and with my marriage with Pudentilla, whom, as I\nwill proceed to prove, I married for love and not for money. This\nmarriage of ours caused frightful annoyance and distress to\nAemilianus. Hence springs all the anger, frenzy, and raving madness\nthat he has shown in the conduct of this accusation. If I succeed in\nmaking all these points abundantly clear and obvious, I shall then\nappeal to you, Claudius Maximus, and to all here present to bear me\nout, that the boy Sicinius Pudens, my step-son, through whom and with\nwhose consent his uncle now accuses me, was quite recently stolen from\nmy charge after the death of Pontianus his brother, who was as much\nhis superior in character as in years, and that he was fiercely\nembittered against myself and his mother through no fault of mine:\nthat he abandoned his study of the liberal arts and cast off all\nrestraint, and--thanks to the education afforded him by this\nvillainous accusation--is more likely to resemble his uncle Aemilianus\nthan his brother Pontianus.\n\n29. I will now, as I promised, take Aemilianus' ravings one by one,\nbeginning with that charge which you must have noticed was given the\nplace of honour in the accuser's speech, as his most effective method\nof exciting suspicion against me as a sorcerer, the charge that I had\nsought to purchase certain kinds of fish from some fishermen. Which of\nthese two points is of the slightest value as affording suspicion of\nsorcery? That fishermen sought to procure me the fish? Would you have\nme entrust such a task to gold-embroiderers or carpenters, and, to\navoid your calumnies, make them change their trades so that the\ncarpenter would net me the fish, and the fisherman take his place and\nhew his timber? Or did you infer that the fish were wanted for evil\npurposes because I paid to get them? I presume, if I had wanted them\nfor a dinner-party, I should have got them for nothing. Why do not you\ngo farther and accuse me on many similar grounds? I have often bought\nwine and vegetables, fruit and bread. The principles laid down by you\nwould involve the starvation of all purveyors of dainties. Who will\never venture to purchase food from them, if it be decided that all\nprovisions for which money is given are wanted not for food but for\nsorcery? But if there is nothing in all this that can give rise to\nsuspicion, neither the payment of the fishermen to ply their usual\ntrade, to wit, the capture of fish--I may point out that the\nprosecution never produced any of these fishermen, who are, as a\nmatter of fact, wholly creatures of their imagination--nor the\npurchase of a common article of sale--the prosecution have never\nstated the amount paid, for fear that if they mentioned a small sum,\nit would be regarded as trivial, or if they mentioned a large sum it\nwould fail to win belief,--if, I say, there is no cause for suspicion\non any of these grounds, I would ask Aemilianus to tell me what,\nfailing these, induced them to accuse me of magic.\n\n30. 'You seek to purchase fish,' says he. I will not deny it. But, I\nask you, is any one who does that a magician? No more, in my opinion,\nthan if I should seek to purchase hares or boar's flesh or fatted\ncapons. Or is there something mysterious in fish and fish alone,\nhidden from all save sorcerers only? If you know what it is, clearly\nyou are a magician. If you do not know, you must confess that you are\nbringing an accusation of the nature of which you are entirely\nignorant. To think that you should be so ignorant not only of all\nliterature, but even of popular tales, that you cannot even invent\ncharges that will have some show of plausibility! For of what use for\nthe kindling of love is an unfeeling chilly creature like a fish, or\nindeed anything else drawn from the sea, unless indeed you propose to\nbring forward in support of your lie the legend that Venus was born\nfrom the sea? I beg you to listen to me, Tannonius Pudens, that you\nmay learn the extent of the ignorance which you have shown by\naccepting the possession of a fish as a proof of sorcery. If you had\nread your Vergil, you would certainly have known that very different\nthings are sought for this purpose. He, as far as I recollect,\nmentions 'soft garlands' and 'rich herbs and 'male incense' and\n'threads of diverse hues', and, in addition to these, 'brittle\nlaurel,' 'clay to be hardened,' and 'wax to be melted in the fire'.\nThere are also the objects mentioned by him in a more serious poem.\n\n     _Rank herbs are sought, with milky venom dark\n     By brazen sickles under moonlight mown;\n     Sought also is that wondrous talisman,\n     Torn from the forehead of the foal at birth\n     Ere yet its dam could snatch it._\n\nBut you who take such exception to fish attribute far different\ninstruments to magicians, charms not to be torn from new-born\nforeheads, but to be cut from scaly backs; not to be plucked from the\nfields of earth, but to be drawn up from the deep fields of ocean; not\nto be mowed with sickles, but to be caught on hooks. Finally, when he\nis speaking of the black art, Vergil mentions poison, you produce an\n_entree_; he mentions herbs and young shoots, you talk of scales and\nbones; he crops the meadow, you search the waves. I would also have\nquoted for your benefit similar passages from Theocritus with many\nothers from Homer and Orpheus, from the comic and tragic poets and\nfrom the historians, had I not noticed ere now that you were unable to\nread Pudentilla's letter which was written in Greek. I will,\ntherefore, do no more than cite one Latin poet. Those who have read\nLaevius[10] will recognize the lines.\n\n[Footnote 10: MSS. _Laelius_.]\n\n     _Love-charms the warlocks seek through all the world:\n     The 'lover's knot' they try, the magic wheel,\n     Ribbons and, nails and roots and herbs and shoots,\n     The two-tailed lizard that draws on to love,[11]\n     And eke the charm that glads the whinnying mare._\n\n[Footnote 11: _Saurae inlices bicodulae._ Helm, wrongly I think,\nplaces a comma between _saurae_ and _inlices_.]\n\n31. You would have made out a far more plausible case by pretending\nthat I made use of such things instead of fish, if only you had\npossessed the slightest erudition. For the belief in the use of these\nthings is so widespread that you might have been believed. But of what\nuse are fish save to be cooked and eaten at meals? In magic they seem\nto me to be absolutely useless. I will tell you why I think so. Many\nhold Pythagoras to have been a pupil of Zoroaster, and, like him, to\nhave been skilled in magic. And yet it is recorded that once near\nMetapontum, on the shores of Italy, his home, which his influence had\nconverted into a second Greece, he noticed certain fishermen draw up\ntheir net. He offered to buy whatever it might contain, and after\ndepositing the price ordered all the fish caught in meshes of the net\nto be released and thrown back into the sea. He would assuredly never\nhave allowed them to slip from his possession had he known them to\npossess any valuable magical properties. For being a man of abnormal\nlearning, and a great admirer of the men of old, he remembered that\nHomer, a poet of manifold or, rather I should say, absolute knowledge\nof all that may be known, spoke of the power of all the drugs that\nearth produces, but made no mention of the sea, when speaking of a\ncertain witch, he wrote the line:\n\n     _All drugs, that wide earth nourishes, she knew._\n\nSimilarly in another passage he says:\n\n               _Earth the grain-giver\n     Yields up to her its store of drugs, whereof\n     Many be healing, mingled in the cup,\n     And many baneful._\n\nBut never in the works of Homer did Proteus anoint his face nor\nUlysses his magic trench, nor Aeolus his windbags, nor Helen her\nmixing bowl, nor Circe her cup, nor Venus her girdle, with any charm\ndrawn from the sea or its inhabitants. You alone within the memory of\nman have been found to sweep as it were by some convulsion of nature\nall the powers of herbs and roots and young shoots and small pebbles\nfrom their hilltops into the sea, and there confine them in the\nentrails of fish. And so whereas sorcerers at their rites used to call\non Mercury the giver of oracles, Venus that lures the soul, the moon\nthat knows the mystery of the night, and Trivia the mistress of the\nshades, you will transfer Neptune, with Salacia and Portumnus and all\nthe company of Nereids from the cold tides of the sea to the burning\ntides of love.\n\n32. I have given my reasons for refusing to believe that magicians and\nfish have anything to do with one another. But now, if it please you,\nwe will assume with Aemilianus that fish are useful for making magical\ncharms as well as for their usual purposes. But does that prove that\nwhoever acquires fish is _ipso facto_ a magician? On those lines it\nmight be urged that whoever acquires a sloop is a pirate, whoever\nacquires a crowbar a burglar, whoever acquires a sword an assassin.\nYou will say that there is nothing in the world, however harmless,\nthat may not be put to some bad use, nothing so cheerful that it may\nnot be given a gloomy meaning. And yet we do not on that account put a\nbad interpretation on everything, as though, for instance, you should\nhold that incense, cassia, myrrh, and similar other scents are\npurchased solely for the purpose of funerals; whereas they are also\nused for sacrifice and medicine. But on the lines of your argument\nyou must believe that even the comrades of Menelaus were magicians;\nfor they, according to the great poet, averted starvation at the isle\nof Pharos by their use of curved fish-hooks. Nay, you will class in\nthe same category of sorcerers seamews, dolphins, and the lobster;\n_gourmands_ also, who sink whole fortunes[12] in the sums they pay to\nfishermen; and fishermen themselves, who by their art capture all\nmanner of fish. 'But what do you want fish for?' you insist. I feel\nmyself under no necessity to tell you, and refuse to do so. But I\nchallenge you to prove unsupported that I bought them for the purpose\nyou assert; as though I had bought hellebore or hemlock or opium or\nany other of those drugs, the moderate use of which is salutary,\nalthough they are deadly when given with other substances or in too\nlarge quantities. Who would endure it if you made this a ground for\naccusing me of being a poisoner, merely because those drugs are\ncapable of killing a man?\n\n[Footnote 12: _merguntur_ MSS.]\n\n33. However, let us see what these fish were, fish so necessary for my\npossession and so hard to find, that they were well worth the price I\npaid for their acquisition. They have mentioned no more than three. To\none they gave a false name; as regards the other two they lied. The\nname was false, for they asserted that the fish was a sea-hare,\nwhereas it was quite another fish, which Themison, my servant, who\nknows something of medicine, as you heard from his own lips, bought of\nhis own suggestion for me to inspect. For, as a matter of fact, he has\nnot as yet ever come across a sea-hare. But I admit that I search for\nother kinds of fish as well, and have commissioned not only fishermen\nbut private friends to search for all the rarest kinds of fish,\nbegging them either to describe the appearance of the fish or to send\nit me, if possible, alive, or, failing that, dead. Why I do so I will\nsoon make clear. My accusers _lied_--and very cunning they thought\nthemselves--when they closed their false accusation by pretending that\nI had sought for two sea-beasts known by gross names. That fellow\nTannonius wished to indicate the nature of the obscenity, but failed,\nmatchless pleader that he is, owing to his inability to speak. After\nlong hesitation he indicated the name of one of them by means of some\nclumsy and disgusting circumlocution. The other he found impossible to\ndescribe with decency, and evaded the difficulty by turning to my\nworks and quoting a certain passage from them in which I described the\nattitude of a statue of Venus.\n\n34. He also with that lofty puritanism which characterizes him,\nreproached me for not being ashamed to describe foul things in noble\nlanguage. I might justly retort on him that, though he openly\nprofesses the study of eloquence, that stammering voice of his often\ngives utterance to noble things so basely as to defile them, and that\nfrequently, when what he has to say presents not the slightest\ndifficulty, he begins to stutter or even becomes utterly tongue-tied.\nCome now! Suppose I had said nothing about the statue of Venus, nor\nused the phrase which was of such service to you, what words would you\nhave found to frame a charge, which is as suited to your stupidity as\nto your powers of speech? I ask you, is there anything more idiotic\nthan the inference that, because the names of two things resemble each\nother, the things themselves are identical? Or did you think it a\nparticularly clever invention on your part to pretend that I had\nsought out these two fish for the purpose of using them as magical\ncharms? Remember that it is as absurd an argument to say that these\nsea-creatures with gross names were sought for gross purposes, as to\nsay that the sea-comb is sought for the adornment of the hair, the\nfish named sea-hawk to catch birds, the fish named the little boar for\nthe hunting of boars, or the sea-skull to raise the dead. My reply to\nthese lying fabrications, which are as stupid as they are absurd, is\nthat I have never attempted to acquire these playthings of the sea,\nthese tiny trifles of the shore, either gratis or for money.\n\n35. Further, I reply that you were quite ignorant of the nature of the\nobjects which you pretended that I sought to acquire. For these\nworthless fish you mention can be found on any shore in heaps and\nmultitudes, and are cast up on dry land by the merest ripple without\nany need for human agency. Why do you not say that at the same time I\ncommissioned large numbers of fishermen to secure for me at a price\nstriped sea-shells from the shore, smooth pebbles, crabs' claws,\nsea-urchins' husks, the tentacles of cuttlefish, shingle, straws,\ncordage, not to mention[13] worm-eaten oyster-shells, moss, and\nseaweed, and all the flotsam of the sea that the winds drive, or the\nsalt wave casts up, or the storm sweeps back, or the calm leaves high\nand dry all along our shores? For their names are no less suitable\nthan those I mentioned above for the purpose of awakening suspicions.\nYou have said that certain objects drawn from the sea have a certain\nvalue for gross purposes on account of the similarity of their names.\nOn this analogy why should not a stone be good for diseases of the\nbladder, a shell for the making of a will, a crab for a cancer,\nseaweed for an ague? Really, Claudius Maximus, in listening to these\nappallingly long-winded accusations to their very close you have shown\na patience that is excessive and a kindness which is too\nlong-suffering. For my part when they uttered these charges of theirs,\nas though they were serious and cogent, while I laughed at their\nstupidity, I marvelled at your patience.\n\n[Footnote 13: _ne pergam_ (Helm).]\n\n36. However, since he takes so much interest in my affairs, I will now\ntell Aemilianus why I have examined so many fishes already and why I\nam unwilling to remain in ignorance of some I have not yet seen.\nAlthough he is in the decline of life and suffering from senile decay,\nlet him, if he will, acquire some learning even at the eleventh hour.\nLet him read the works of the philosophers of old, that now at any\nrate he may learn that I am not the first ichthyologist, but follow in\nthe steps of authors, centuries my seniors, such as Aristotle,\nTheophrastus, Eudemus, Lycon, and the other successors of Plato, who\nhave left many books on the generation, life, parts and differences of\nanimals. It is a good thing, Maximus, that this case is being tried\nbefore a scholar like yourself, who have read Aristotle's numerous\nvolumes 'on the generation, the anatomy, the history of animals',\ntogether with his numberless 'Problems' and works by others of his\nschool, treating of various subjects of this kind. If it is an honour\nand glory to them that they should have put on record the results of\ntheir careful researches, why should it be disgraceful to me to\nattempt the like task, especially since I shall attempt to write on\nthose subjects both in Greek and Latin and in a more concise and\nsystematic manner, and shall strive either to make good omissions or\nremedy mistakes in all these authors? I beg of you, if you think it\nworth while, to permit the reading of extracts from my 'magic' works,\nthat Aemilianus may learn that my sedulous researches and inquiries\nhave a wider range than he thinks. Bring a volume of my Greek\nworks--some of my friends who are interested in questions of natural\nhistory may perhaps have them with them in court--take by preference\none of those dealing with problems of natural philosophy, and from\namong those that volume in particular which treats of the race of\nfish. While he is looking for the book, I will tell you a story which\nhas some relevance to this case.\n\n37. The poet Sophocles, the rival and survivor of Euripides--for he\nlived to extreme old age--on being accused by his own son of insanity\non the ground that the advance of age had destroyed his wits, is said\nto have produced that matchless tragedy, his _Oedipus Coloneus_, on\nwhich he happened to be engaged at the time, and to have read it aloud\nto the jury without adding another word in his defence, except that he\nbade them without hesitation to condemn him as insane if an old man's\npoetry displeased them. At that point--so I have read--the jury rose\nto their feet as one man to show their admiration of so great a poet,\nand praised him marvellously both for the shrewdness of his argument\nand for the eloquence of his tragic verse. And indeed they were not\nfar off unanimously condemning the accuser as the madman instead.\n\nHave you found the book? Thank you. Let us try now whether what I\nwrite may serve me in good stead in a law-court. Read a few lines at\nthe beginning, then some details concerning the fish. And do you while\nhe reads stop the water-clock. (_A passage from the book is read._)\n\n38. You hear, Maximus. You have doubtless frequently read the like in\nthe works of ancient philosophers. Remember too that these volumes of\nmine describe fishes only, distinguishing those that spring from the\nunion of the sexes from those which are spontaneously generated from\nthe mud, discussing how often and at what periods of the year the\nmales and females of each species come together, setting forth the\ndistinction established by nature between those of them who are\nviviparous and those who are oviparous--for thus I translate the\nGreek phrases [Greek: zootoka] and [Greek: ootoka]--together with the\ncauses of this distinction and the organic differences by which it is\ncharacterized, in a word--for I would not weary you by discussing all\nthe different methods of generation in animals--treating of the\ndistinguishing marks of species, their various manners of life, the\ndifference of their members and ages, with many other points necessary\nfor the man of science but out of place in a law-court. I will ask\nthat a few of my Latin writings dealing with the same science may be\nread, in which you will notice some rare pieces of knowledge and names\nbut little known to the Romans; indeed they have never been produced\nbefore to-day, but yet, thanks to my toil and study they have been so\ntranslated from the Greek, that in spite of their strangeness they are\nnone the less of Latin mintage. Do you deny this, Aemilianus? If so,\nlet your advocates tell me in what Latin author they have ever before\nread such words as those which I will cause to be recited to you. I\nwill mention only aquatic animals, nor will I make any reference to\nother animals save in connexion with the characteristics which\ndistinguish them from aquatic creatures. Listen then to what I say.\nYou will cry out at me saying that I am giving you a list of magic\nnames such as are used in Egyptian or Babylonian rites. [Greek:\nSelacheia malacheia malakostraka chondrakantha ostrakoderma\nkarcharodonta amphibia lepidota pholidota dermoptera steganopoda\nmonere synagelastika]. I might continue the list, but it is not worth\nwasting time over such trifles, and I need time to deal with other\ncharges. Meanwhile read out my translation into Latin of the few names\nI have just given you. (_The translation is read. The Latin names are\nlost._)\n\n39. What think you? Is it disgraceful for a philosopher who is no rude\nand unlearned person of the reckless Cynic type, but who remembers\nthat he is a disciple of Plato, is it disgraceful for such an one to\nknow and care for such learning or to be ignorant and indifferent? to\nknow how far such things reveal the workings of providence, or to\nswallow all the tales his father and mother told him of the immortal\ngods? Quintus Ennius wrote a poem on dainties: he there enumerates\ncountless species of fish, which of course he had carefully studied. I\nremember a few lines and will recite them:\n\n     _Clipea's sea-weasels are of all the best,\n     For 'mice' the place is Aenus; oysters rough\n     In greatest plenty from Abydos come.\n     The sea-comb's found at Mitylene and\n     Ambracian Charadrus, and I praise\n     Brundisian sargus: take him, if he's big.\n     Know that Tarentum's small sea-boar is prime;\n     The sword-fish at Surrentum thou shouldst buy;\n     Blue fish at Cumae. What! have I passed by\n     Scarus? the brain of Jove is not less sweet.\n     You catch them large and good off Nestor's home.\n     Have I passed by the black-tail and the 'thrush',\n     The sea-merle and the shadow of the sea?\n     Best to Corcyra go for cuttlefish,\n     For the acarne and the fat sea-skull\n     The purple-fish, the little murex too,\n     Mice of the sea and the sea-urchin sweet._\n\nHe glorified many fish in other verses, stating where each was to be\nfound and whether they were best fried or stewed, and yet he is not\nblamed for it by the learned. Spare then to blame me, who describe\nthings known to few under elegant and appropriate names both in Greek\nand Latin.\n\n40. Enough of this! I call your attention to another point. What if I\ntake such interest and possess such skill in medicine as to search for\ncertain remedies in fish? For assuredly as nature with impartial\nmunificence has distributed and implanted many remedies throughout all\nother created things, so also similar remedies are to be found in\nfish. Now, do you think it more the business of a magician than of a\ndoctor, or indeed of a philosopher, to know and seek out remedies? For\nthe philosopher will use them not to win money for his purse, but to\ngive assistance to his fellow men. The doctors of old indeed knew how\nto cure wounds by magic song, as Homer, the most reliable of all the\nwriters of antiquity, tells us, making the blood of Ulysses to be\nstayed by a chant as it gushed forth from a wound. Now nothing that is\ndone to save life can be matter for accusation. 'But,' says my\nadversary, 'for what purpose save evil did you dissect the fish\nbrought you by your servant Themison?' As if I had not told you just\nnow that I write treatises on the organs of all kind of animals,\ndescribing the place, number and purpose of their various parts,\ndiligently investigating Aristotle's works on anatomy and adding to\nthem where necessary. I am, therefore, greatly surprised that you are\nonly aware of my having inspected one small fish, although I have\nactually inspected a very large number under all circumstances\nwherever I might find them, and have, moreover, made no secret of my\nresearches, but conducted them openly before all the world, so that\nthe merest stranger may, if it please him, stand by and observe me. In\nthis I follow the instruction of my masters, who assert that a free\nman of free spirit should as far as possible wear his thoughts upon\nhis face. Indeed I actually showed this small fish, which you call a\nsea-hare, to many who stood by. I do not yet know what name to call\nit[14] without closer research, since in spite of its rarity and most\nremarkable characteristics I do not find it described by any of the\nancient philosophers. This fish is, as far as my knowledge extends,\nunique in one respect, for it contains twelve bones resembling the\nknuckle-bones of a sucking-pig, linked together like a chain in its\nbelly. Apart from this it is boneless. Had Aristotle known this,\nAristotle who records as a most remarkable phenomenon the fact that\nthe fish known as the small sea-ass alone of all fishes has its\ndiminutive heart placed in its stomach, he would assuredly have\nmentioned the fact.\n\n[Footnote 14: _vocem_ (Colvius).]\n\n41. 'You dissected a fish,' says he. Who can call this a crime in a\nphilosopher which would be no crime in a butcher or cook? 'You\ndissected a fish.' Perhaps you object to the fact that it was raw. You\nwould not regard it as criminal if I had explored its stomach and cut\nup its delicate liver after it was cooked, as you teach the boy\nSicinius Pudens to do with his own fish at meals. And yet it is a\ngreater crime for a philosopher to eat fish than to inspect them. Are\naugurs to be allowed to explore the livers of victims and may not a\nphilosopher look at them too, a philosopher who knows that he can draw\nomens from every animal, that he is the high-priest of every god? Do\nyou bring that as a reproach against me which is one of the reasons\nfor the admiration with which Maximus and myself regard Aristotle?\nUnless you drive his works from the libraries and snatch them from the\nhands of students you cannot accuse me. But enough! I have said almost\nmore on this subject than I ought.\n\nSee, too, how they contradict themselves. They say that I sought my\nwife in marriage with the help of the black art and charms drawn from\nthe sea at the very time when they acknowledge me to have been in the\nmidmost mountains of Gaetulia, where, I suppose, Deucalion's deluge\nhas made it possible to find fish! I am, however, glad that they do\nnot know that I have read Theophrastus' 'On beasts that bite and\nsting' and Nicander 'On the bites of wild animals'; otherwise they\nwould have accused me of poisoning as well! As a matter of fact I have\nacquired a knowledge of these subjects thanks to my reading of\nAristotle and my desire to emulate him. I owe something also to the\nadvice of my master Plato, who says that those who make such\ninvestigations as these 'pursue a delightful form of amusement which\nthey will never regret'.\n\n42. Since I have sufficiently cleared up this business of the fish,\nlisten to another of their inventions equally stupid, but much more\nextravagant and far more wicked. They themselves knew that their\nargument about the fish was futile and bound to fail. They realized,\nmoreover, its strange absurdity (for who ever heard of fish being\nscaled and boned for dark purposes of magic?), they realized that it\nwould be better for their fictions to deal with things of more common\nreport, which have ere now been believed. And so they devised the\nfollowing fiction which does at least fall within the limits of\npopular credence and rumour. They asserted that I had taken a boy\napart to a secret place with a small altar and a lantern and only a\nfew accomplices as witnesses, and there so bewitched him with a\nmagical incantation that he fell in the very spot where I pronounced\nthe charm, and on being awakened was found to be out of his wits. They\ndid not dare to go any further with the lie. To complete their story\nthey should have added that the boy uttered many prophecies. For this\nwe know is the prize of magical incantations, namely divination and\nprophecy. And this miracle in the case of boys is confirmed not only\nby vulgar opinion but by the authority of learned men. I remember\nreading various relations of the kind in the philosopher Varro, a\nwriter of the highest learning and erudition, but there was the\nfollowing story in particular. Inquiry was being made at Tralles by\nmeans of magic into the probable issue of the Mithridatic war, and a\nboy who was gazing at an image of Mercury reflected in a bowl of water\nforetold the future in a hundred and sixty lines of verse. He records\nalso that Fabius, having lost five hundred denarii, came to consult\nNigidius; the latter by means of incantations inspired certain boys so\nthat they were able to indicate to him where a pot containing a\ncertain portion of the money had been hidden in the ground, and how\nthe remainder had been dispersed, one denarius having found its way\ninto the possession of Marcus Cato the philosopher. This coin Cato\nacknowledged he had received from a certain lackey as a contribution\nto the treasury of Apollo.\n\n43. I have read this and the like concerning boys and art-magic in\nseveral authors, but I am in doubt whether to admit the truth of such\nstories or no, although I believe Plato when he asserts that there are\ncertain divine powers holding a position and possessing a character\nmidway between gods and men, and that all divination and the miracles\nof magicians are controlled by them. Moreover it is my own personal\nopinion that the human soul, especially when it is young and\nunsophisticated, may by the allurement of music or the soothing\ninfluence of sweet smells be lulled into slumber and banished into\noblivion of its surroundings so that, as all consciousness of the body\nfades from the memory, it returns and is reduced to its primal nature,\nwhich is in truth immortal and divine; and thus, as it were in a kind\nof slumber, it may predict the future. But howsoever these things may\nbe, if any faith is to be put in them, the prophetic boy must, as far\nas I can understand, be fair and unblemished in body, shrewd of wit\nand ready of speech, so that a worthy and fair shrine may be provided\nfor the divine indwelling power--if indeed such a power does enter\ninto the boy's body--or that the boy's mind when wakened may quickly\napply itself to its inherent powers of divination, find them ready to\nits use and reproduce their promptings undulled and unimpaired by any\nloss of memory. For, as Pythagoras said, not every kind of wood is fit\nto be carved into the likeness of Mercury. If that be so, tell me who\nwas that healthy, unblemished, intelligent, handsome boy whom I deemed\nworthy of initiation into such mysteries by the power of my spells. As\na matter of fact, Thallus, whom you mentioned, needs a doctor rather\nthan a magician. For the poor wretch is such a victim to epilepsy that\nhe frequently has fits twice or thrice in one day without the need for\nany incantations, and exhausts all his limbs with his convulsions. His\nface is ulcerous, his head bruised in front and behind, his eyes are\ndull, his nostrils distended, his feet stumbling. He may claim to be\nthe greatest of magicians in whose presence Thallus has remained for\nany considerable time upon his feet. For he is continually lying\ndown, either a seizure or mere weariness[15] causing him to collapse.\n\n[Footnote 15: _seu_ (Casaubon).]\n\n44. Yet you say that it is my incantations that have overwhelmed him,\nsimply because he has once chanced to have a fit in my presence. Many\nof his fellow servants, whose appearance as witnesses you have\ndemanded, are present in court. They all can tell you why it is they\nspit upon Thallus, and why no one ventures to eat from the same dish\nwith him or to drink from the same cup. But why do I speak of these\nslaves? You yourselves have eyes. Deny then, if you dare, that Thallus\nused to have fits of epilepsy long before I came to Oea, or that has\nfrequently been shown to doctors. Let his fellow slaves who are in\nyour service deny this: I will confess myself guilty of everything, if\nhe has not long since been sent away into the country, far from the\nsight of all of them, to a distant farm, for fear he should infect the\nrest of the household. They cannot deny this to be the fact. For the\nsame reason it is impossible for us to produce him here to-day. The\nwhole of this accusation has been reckless and sudden, and it was only\nthe day before yesterday that Aemilianus demanded that we should\nproduce fifteen slaves before you. The fourteen living in the town are\npresent to-day. Thallus only is absent owing to the fact that he has\nbeen banished to a place some hundred miles distant. However, we have\nsent a man to bring him here in a carriage. I ask you, Maximus, to\nquestion these fourteen slaves whom we have produced as to where the\nboy Thallus is and what is the state of his health; I ask you to\nquestion my accuser's slaves. They will not deny that this boy is of\nrevolting appearance, that his body is rotten through and through with\ndisease, that he is liable to fits, and is a barbarian and a\nclodhopper. This is indeed a handsome boy whom you have selected as\none who might fairly be produced at the offering of sacrifice, whom\none might touch upon the head and clothe in a fair white cloak in\nexpectation of some prophetic reply from his lips. I only wish he were\npresent. I would have entrusted him to your tender mercies,\nAemilianus, and would be ready to hold him myself that you might\nquestion him. Here in open court before the judges he would have\nrolled his wild eyes upon you, he would have foamed at the mouth, spat\nin your face, drawn in his hands convulsively, shaken his head and\nfallen at last in a fit into your arms.\n\n45. Here are fourteen slaves whom you bade me produce in court. Why do\nyou refuse to question them? You want one epileptic boy who, you know\nas well as I, has long been absent from Oea. What clearer evidence of\nthe falseness of your accusations could be desired? Fourteen slaves\nare present, as you required; you ignore them. One young boy is\nabsent: you concentrate your attack on him. What is it that you want?\nSuppose Thallus were present. Do you want to prove that he had a fit\nin my presence? Why, I myself admit it. You say that this was the\nresult of incantation. I answer that the boy knows nothing about it,\nand that I can prove that it was not so. Even you will not deny that\nThallus was epileptic. Why then attribute his fall to magic rather\nthan disease? Was there anything improbable in his suffering that fate\nin _my_ presence, which he has often suffered on other occasions in\nthe presence of a number of persons? Nay, even supposing I had thought\nit a great achievement to cast an epileptic into a fit, why should I\nuse charms when, as I am told by writers on natural history, the\nburning of the stone named _gagates_ is an equally sure and easy proof\nof the disease? For its scent is commonly used as a test of the\nsoundness or infirmity of slaves even in the slave-market. Again, the\nspinning of a potter's wheel will easily infect a man suffering from\nthis disease with its own giddiness. For the sight of its rotations\nweakens his already feeble mind, and the potter is far more effective\nthan the magician for casting epileptics into convulsions. You had no\nreason for demanding that I should produce these slaves. I have good\nreason for asking you to name those who witnessed that guilty ritual\nwhen I cast the moribund Thallus into one of his fits. The only\nwitness you mention is that worthless boy, Sicinius Pudens, in whose\nname you accuse me. He says that he was present. His extreme youth is\nno reason why we should reject his sworn evidence, but the fact that\nhe is one of my accusers _does_ detract from his credibility. It would\nhave been easier for you, Aemilianus, and your evidence would have\ncarried much more weight, had you said that you were present at the\nrite and had been mad ever since, instead of entrusting the whole\nbusiness to the evidence of boys as though it were a mere joke. A boy\nhad a fit, a boy saw him. Was it also some boy that bewitched him?\n\n46. At this point Tannonius Pudens, like the old hand he is, saw that\nthis lie also was falling flat and was doomed to failure by the frowns\nand murmurs of the audience, and so, in order to check the suspicions\nof some of them by kindling fresh expectations, he said that he would\nproduce other boys as well whom I had similarly bewitched. He thus\npassed to another line of accusation. I might ignore it, but I will go\nout of my way to challenge it as I have done with all the rest. I want\nthose boys to be produced. I hear they have been bribed by the promise\nof their liberty to perjure themselves. But I say no more. Only\nproduce them. I demand and insist, Tannonius Pudens, that you should\nfulfil your promise. Bring forward those boys in whose evidence you\nput your trust; produce them, name them. You may use the time allotted\nto my speech for the purpose. Speak, I say, Tannonius. Why are you\nsilent? Why do you hesitate? Why look round? If _he_ does not remember\nhis instructions, or has forgotten his witnesses' names, do you at any\nrate, Aemilianus, come forward and tell us what instructions you gave\nyour advocate, and produce those boys. Why do you turn pale? Why are\nyou silent? Is this the way to bring an accusation? Is this the way\nto indict a man on so serious a charge? Is it not rather an insult to\nso distinguished a citizen as Claudius Maximus, and a false and\nslanderous persecution of myself? However, if your representative has\nmade a slip in his speech, and there are no such boys to produce, at\nany rate make some use of the fourteen whom I have brought into court.\nIf you refuse, why did you demand the appearance of such a housefull?\n\n47. You have demanded fifteen slaves to support an accusation of\nmagic; how many would you be demanding if it were a charge of\nviolence? The inference is that fifteen slaves know something, and\nthat something is still a mystery. Or is it nothing mysterious and yet\nsomething connected with magic? You must admit one of these two\nalternatives: either the proceeding to which I admitted so many\nwitnesses had nothing improper about it, or, if it had, it should not\nhave been witnessed by so many. Now this magic of which you accuse me\nis, I am told, a crime in the eyes of the law, and was forbidden in\nremote antiquity by the Twelve Tables because in some incredible\nmanner crops had been charmed away from one field to another. It is\nthen as mysterious an art as it is loathly and horrible; it needs as a\nrule night-watches and concealing darkness, solitude absolute and\nmurmured incantations, to hear which few free men are admitted, not to\nspeak of slaves. And yet you will have it that there were fifteen\nslaves present on this occasion. Was it a marriage? or any other\ncrowded ceremony? or a seasonable banquet? Fifteen slaves take part\nin a magic rite as though they had been created _quindecimvirs_ for\nthe performance of sacrifice! Is it likely that I should have\npermitted so large a number to be present on such an occasion, if they\nwere too many to be accomplices? Fifteen free men form a borough,\nfifteen slaves a household, fifteen fettered serfs a chain-gang. Did I\nneed such a crowd to help me by holding the lustral victims during the\nlengthy rite? No! the only victims you mentioned were hens! Were they\nto count the grains of incense? or to knock Thallus down?\n\n48. You assert also that by promising to heal her I inveigled to my\nhouse a free woman who suffered from the same disease as Thallus; that\nshe, too, fell senseless as a result of my incantations. It appears to\nme that you are accusing a wrestler not a magician, since you say that\nall who visited me had a fall. And yet Themison, who is a physician\nand who brought the woman for my inspection, denied, when you asked\nhim, Maximus, that I had done anything to the woman other than ask her\nwhether she heard noises in her ears, and if so, which ear suffered\nmost. He added that she departed immediately after telling me that her\nright ear was most troubled in that way. At this point, Maximus,\nalthough I have for the present been careful to abstain from praising\nyou, lest I should seem to have flattered you with an eye to winning\nmy case, yet I cannot help praising you for the astuteness of your\nquestions. After they had spent much time in discussing these points\nand asserting that I had bewitched the woman, and after the doctor who\nwas present on that occasion had denied that I had done so, you, with\nshrewdness more than human, asked them what profit I derived from my\nincantations. They replied, 'The woman had a fit.' 'What then?' you\nasked, 'Did she die?' 'No,' said they. 'What is your point then? How\ndid the fact of her having a fit profit Apuleius?' That third question\nshowed brilliant penetration and persistence. You knew that it was\nnecessary to submit all facts to stringent examination of their\ncauses, that often facts are admitted while motives remain to seek,\nand that the representatives of litigants are called pleaders of\n_causes_, because they set forth the causes of each particular act. To\ndeny a fact is easy and needs no advocate, but it is far more arduous\nand difficult a task to demonstrate the rightness or wrongness of a\ngiven action. It is waste of time, therefore, to inquire whether a\nthing was done, when, even if it were done, no evil motive can be\nalleged. Under such circumstances, if no criminal motive is\nforthcoming, a good judge releases the accused from all further\nvexatious inquiry. So now, since they have not proved that I either\nbewitched the woman or caused her to have a fit, I for my part will\nnot deny that I examined her at the request of a physician; and I will\ntell you, Maximus, why I asked her if she had noises in her ears. I\nwill do this not so much to clear myself of the charge which you,\nMaximus, have already decided to involve neither blame nor guilt, as\nto impart to you something worthy of your hearing and interesting to\none of your erudition. I will tell you in as few words as possible. I\nhave only to call your attention to certain facts. To instruct you\nwould be presumption.\n\n49. The philosopher Plato, in his glorious work, the _Timaeus_, sets\nforth with more than mortal eloquence the constitution of the whole\nuniverse. After discoursing with great insight on the three powers\nthat make up man's soul, and showing with the utmost clearness the\ndivine purpose that shaped our various members, he treats of the\ncauses of all diseases under three heads. The first cause lies in the\nelements of the body, when the actual qualities of those elements,\nmoisture and cold and their two opposites, fail to harmonize. That\ncomes to pass when one of these elements assumes undue proportions or\nmoves from its proper place. The second cause of disease lies in the\nvitiation of those components of the body which, though formed out of\nthe simple elements, have coalesced in such a manner as to have a\nspecific character of their own, such as blood, entrails, bone,\nmarrow, and the various substances made from the blending of each of\nthese. Thirdly, the concretion in the body of various juices, turbid\nvapours, and dense humours is the last provocative of sickness.\n\n50. Of these causes that which contributes most to epilepsy, the\ndisease of which I set out to speak, is a condition when the flesh is\nso melted by the noxious influence of fire as to form a thick and\nfoaming humour. This generates a vapour, and the heat of the air thus\ncompressed within the body causes a white and eruptive ferment. If\nthis ferment succeeds in escaping from the body, it is dispersed in a\nmanner that is repulsive rather than dangerous. For it causes an\neczema to break out upon the surface of the skin of the breast and\nmottles it with all kinds of blotches. But the person to whom this\nhappens is never again attacked with epilepsy, and so he rids himself\nof a most sore disease of the spirit at the price of a slight\ndisfigurement of the body. But if, on the other hand, this dangerous\ncorruption[16] be contained within the body and mingle with the black\nbile, and so run fiercely through every vein, and then working its way\nupwards to the head flood the brain with its destructive stream, it\nstraightway weakens that royal part of man's spirit which is endowed\nwith the power of reason and is enthroned in the head of man, that is\nits citadel and palace. For it overwhelms and throws into confusion\nthose channels of divinity and paths of wisdom. During sleep it makes\nless havoc, but when men are full of meat and wine it makes its\npresence somewhat unpleasantly felt by a choking sensation, the herald\nof epilepsy. But if it reaches such strength as to attack the heads of\nmen when they are wide awake, then their minds grow dull with a sudden\ncloud of stupefaction and they fall to the ground, their bodies\nswooning as in death, their spirit fainting within them. Men of our\nrace have styled it not only the 'Great sickness' and the 'Comitial\nsickness', but also the 'Divine sickness', in this resembling the\nGreeks, who call it [Greek: hiera nosos], the holy sickness. The name\nis just; for this sickness does outrage to the rational part of the\nsoul, which is by far the most holy.\n\n[Footnote 16: _putredo_ (conj. Helm).]\n\n51. You recognize, Maximus, the theory of Plato, as far as I have been\nable to give it a lucid explanation in the time at my disposal. I put\nmy trust in him when he says that the cause of epilepsy is the\noverflowing of this pestilential humour into the head. My inquiry\ntherefore was, I think, reasonable when I asked the woman whether her\nhead felt heavy, her neck numb, her temples throbbing, her ears full\nof noises. The fact that she acknowledged these noises to be more\nfrequent in her right ear was proof that the disease had gone home.\nFor the right-hand organs of the body are the strongest, and therefore\ntheir infection with the disease leaves small hope of recovery. Indeed\nAristotle has left it on record in his _Problems_ that whenever in the\ncase of epileptics the disease begins on the right side, their cure is\nvery difficult. It would be tedious were I to repeat the opinion of\nTheophrastus also on the subject of epilepsy. For he has left a most\nexcellent treatise on convulsions. He asserts, however, in another\nbook on the subject of animals ill-disposed towards mankind, that the\nskins of newts--which like other reptiles they shed at fixed intervals\nfor the renewal of their youth--form a remedy for fits. But unless you\nsnatch up the skin as soon as it be shed, they straightway turn upon\nit and devour it, whether from a malign foreknowledge of its value to\nmen or from a natural taste for it. I have mentioned these things, I\nhave been careful to quote the arguments of renowned philosophers, and\nto mention the books where they are to be found, and have avoided any\nreference to the works of physicians or poets, that my adversaries may\ncease to wonder that philosophers have learnt the causes of remedies\nand diseases in the natural course of their researches. Well then,\nsince this woman was brought to be examined by me in the hope that she\nmight be cured, and since it is clear both from the evidence of the\nphysician who brought her and from the arguments I have just set forth\nthat such a course was perfectly right, my opponents must needs assert\nthat it is the part of a magician and evildoer to heal disease, or, if\nthey do not dare to say that, must confess that their accusations in\nregard to this epileptic boy and woman are false, absurd, and indeed\nepileptic.\n\n52. Yes, Aemilianus, if you would hear the truth, _you_ are the real\nsufferer from the falling sickness, so often have your false\naccusations failed and cast you helpless to the ground. Bodily\ncollapse is no worse than intellectual, and it is as important to keep\none's head as to keep one's feet, while it is as unpleasant to be\nloathed by this distinguished gathering as to be spat upon in one's\nown chamber. But you perhaps think yourself sane because you are not\nconfined within doors, but follow the promptings of your madness\nwhithersoever it lead you: and yet compare your frenzy with that of\nThallus; you will find that there is but little to choose between\nyou, save that Thallus confines his frenzy to himself, while you\ndirect yours against others; Thallus distorts his eyes, you distort\nthe truth; Thallus contracts his hands convulsively, you not less\nconvulsively contract with your advocates; Thallus dashes himself\nagainst the pavement, you dash yourself against the judgement-seat. In\na word, whatever he does, he does in his sickness erring\nunconsciously; but you, wretch, commit your crimes with full knowledge\nand with your eyes open, such is the vehemence of the disease that\ninspires your actions. You bring false accusations as though they were\ntrue; you charge men with doing what has never been done; though a\nman's innocence be clear to you as daylight, you denounce him as\nthough he were guilty.\n\n53. Nay, further, though I had almost forgotten to mention it, there\nare certain things of which you confess your ignorance, and which\nnevertheless you make material for accusation as though you knew all\nabout them. You assert that I kept something mysterious wrapped up in\na handkerchief among the household gods in the house of Pontianus. You\nconfess your ignorance as to what may have been the nature or\nappearance of this object; you further admit that no one ever saw it,\nand yet you assert that it was some instrument of magic. You are not\nto be congratulated on this method of procedure. Your accusation\nreveals no shrewdness, and has not even the merit of impudence. Do not\nthink so for a moment. No! it shows naught save the ill-starred\nmadness of an embittered spirit and the pitiable fury of cantankerous\nold age. The words you used in the presence of so grave and\nperspicacious a judge amounted to something very like this. 'Apuleius\nkept certain things wrapped in a cloth among the household gods in the\nhouse of Pontianus. Since I do not know what they were, I therefore\nargue that they were magical. I beg you to believe what I say, because\nI am talking of that of which I know nothing.' What a wonderful\nargument, in itself an obvious refutation of the charge. 'It must have\nbeen this, because I do not know what it was.' You are the only person\nhitherto discovered who knows that which he does not know. You so far\nsurpass all others in folly, that whereas philosophers of the most\nkeen and penetrating intellect assert that we should not trust even\nthe objects that we see, you make statements about things which you\nhave never seen or heard. If Pontianus still lived and you were to ask\nhim what the cloth contained, he would reply that he did not know.\nThere is the freedman who still has charge of the keys of the place;\nhe is one of your witnesses, but he says that he has never examined\nthese objects, although, as the servant responsible for the books kept\nthere, he opened and shut the doors almost daily, continually entered\nthe room, not seldom in my company but more often alone, and saw the\ncloth lying on the table unprotected by seal or cord. Quite natural,\nwas it not? Magical objects were concealed in the cloth, and for that\nreason I took little care for its safe custody, but left it about\nanyhow for any one to examine and inspect, if he liked, or even to\ncarry it away! I entrusted it to the custody of others, I left it to\nothers to dispose of at their pleasure! What credence do you expect us\nto give you after this? Are we to believe that you, on whom I have\nnever set eyes save in this court, know that of which Pontianus, who\nactually lived under the same roof, was ignorant? or shall we believe\nthat you, who have never so much as approached the room where they\nwere placed, have seen what the freedman never saw, although he had\nevery opportunity to inspect them during the sedulous performance of\nhis duties? In a word, that which you never saw must have been what\nyou assert it to have been! And yet, you fool, if this very day you\nhad succeeded in getting that handkerchief into your hands, I should\ndeny the magical nature of whatever you might produce from it.\n\n54. I give you full leave; invent what you like, rack your memory and\nyour imagination to discover something that might conceivably seem to\nbe of a magical nature. Even then, should you succeed in so doing, I\nshould argue the point with you. I should say that the object in\nquestion had been substituted by you for the original, or that it had\nbeen given as a remedy, or that it was a sacred emblem that had been\nplaced in my keeping, or that a vision had bidden me to carry it thus.\nThere are a thousand other ways in which I might refute you with\nperfect truth and without giving any explanation which is abnormal or\nlies outside the limits of common observation. You are now demanding\nthat a circumstance, which, even if it were proved up to the hilt,\nwould not prejudice me in the eyes of a good judge, should be fatal to\nme when, as it is, it rests on vague suspicion, uncertainty, and\nignorance. You will perhaps, as is your wont, say, 'What, then, was it\nthat you wrapped in a linen cloth and were so careful to deposit with\nthe household gods?' Really, Aemilianus! is this the way you accuse\nyour victims? You produce no definite evidence yourself, but ask the\naccused for explanations of everything. 'Why do you search for fish?\nWhy did you examine a sick woman? What had you hidden in your\nhandkerchief?' Did you come here to accuse me or to ask me questions?\nIf to accuse me, prove your charges yourself; if to ask questions, do\nnot anticipate the truth by expressing opinions on that concerning\nwhich your ignorance compels you to inquire. If this precedent be\nfollowed, if there is no necessity for the accuser to prove anything,\nbut on the contrary he is given every facility for asking questions of\nthe accused, there is not a man in all the world but will be indicted\non some charge or other. In fact, everything that he has ever done\nwill be used as a handle against any man who is charged with sorcery.\nHave you written a petition on the thigh of some statue? You are a\nsorcerer! Else why did you write it? Have you breathed silent prayers\nto heaven in some temple? You are a sorcerer! Else tell us what you\nasked for? Or take the contrary line. You uttered no prayer in some\ntemple! You are a sorcerer! Else why did you not ask the gods for\nsomething? The same argument will be used if you have made some votive\ndedication, or offered sacrifice, or carried sprigs of some sacred\nplant. The day will fail me if I attempt to go through all the\ndifferent circumstances of which, on these lines, the false accuser\nwill demand an explanation. Above all, whatever object he has kept\nconcealed or stored under lock and key at home will be asserted by the\nsame argument to be of a magical nature, or will be dragged from its\ncupboard into the light of the law-court before the seat of judgement.\n\n55. I might discourse at greater length on the nature and importance\nof such accusations, on the wide range for slander that this path\nopens for Aemilianus, on the floods of perspiration that this one poor\nhandkerchief, contrary to its natural duty, will cause his innocent\nvictims! But I will follow the course I have already pursued. I will\nacknowledge what there is no necessity for me to acknowledge, and will\nanswer Aemilianus' questions. You ask, Aemilianus, what I had in that\nhandkerchief. Although I might deny that I had deposited any\nhandkerchief of mine in Pontianus' library, or even admitting that it\nwas true enough that I did so deposit it, I might still deny that\nthere was anything wrapped up in it. If I should take this line, you\nhave no evidence or argument whereby to refute me, for there is no one\nwho has ever handled it, and only one freedman, according to your own\nassertion, who has ever seen it. Still, as far as I am concerned I\nwill admit the cloth to have been full to bursting. Imagine yourself,\nplease, to be on the brink of a great discovery, like the comrades of\nUlysses who thought they had found a treasure when they stole the bag\nthat contained all the winds. Would you like me to tell you what I had\nwrapped up in a handkerchief and entrusted to the care of Pontianus'\nhousehold gods? You shall have your will. I have been initiated into\nvarious of the Greek mysteries, and preserve with the utmost care\ncertain emblems and mementoes of my initiation with which the priests\npresented me. There is nothing abnormal or unheard of in this. Those\nof you here present who have been initiated into the mysteries of\nfather Liber alone, know what you keep hidden at home, safe from all\nprofane touch and the object of your silent veneration. But I, as I\nhave said, moved by my religious fervour and my desire to know the\ntruth, have learned mysteries of many a kind, rites in great number,\nand diverse ceremonies. This is no invention on the spur of the\nmoment; nearly three years since, in a public discourse on the\ngreatness of Aesculapius delivered by me during the first days of my\nresidence at Oea, I made the same boast and recounted the number of\nthe mysteries I knew. That discourse was thronged, has been read far\nand wide, is in all men's hands, and has won the affections of the\npious inhabitants of Oea not so much through any eloquence of mine as\nbecause it treats of Aesculapius. Will any one, who chances to\nremember it, repeat the beginning of that particular passage in my\ndiscourse? You hear, Maximus, how many voices supply the words. I will\norder this same passage to be read aloud, since by the courteous\nexpression of your face you show that you will not be displeased to\nhear it. (_The passage is read aloud._)\n\n56. Can any one, who has the least remembrance of the nature of\nreligious rites, be surprised that one who has been initiated into so\nmany holy mysteries should preserve at home certain talismans\nassociated with these ceremonies, and should wrap them in a linen\ncloth, the purest of coverings for holy things? For wool, produced by\nthe most stolid of creatures and stripped from the sheep's back, the\nfollowers of Orpheus and Pythagoras are for that very reason forbidden\nto wear as being unholy and unclean. But flax, the purest of all\ngrowths and among the best of all the fruits of the earth, is used by\nthe holy priests of Egypt, not only for clothing and raiment, but as a\nveil for sacred things. And yet I know that some persons, among them\nthat fellow Aemilianus, think it a good jest to mock at things divine.\nFor I learn from certain men of Oea who know him, that to this day he\nhas never prayed to any god or frequented any temple, while if he\nchances to pass any shrine, he regards it as a crime to raise his hand\nto his lips in token of reverence. He has never given firstfruits of\ncrops or vines or flocks to any of the gods of the farmer, who feed\nhim and clothe him; his farm holds no shrine, no holy place, nor\ngrove. But why do I speak of groves or shrines? Those who have been on\nhis property say they never saw there one stone where offering of oil\nhas been made, one bough where wreaths have been hung. As a result,\ntwo nicknames have been given him: he is called Charon, as I have\nsaid, on account of his truculence of spirit and of countenance, but\nhe is also--and this is the name he prefers--called Mezentius, because\nhe despises the gods. I therefore find it the easier to understand\nthat he should regard my list of initiations in the light of a jest.\nIt is even possible that, thanks to his rejection of things divine, he\nmay be unable to induce himself to believe that it is true that I\nguard so reverently so many emblems and relics of mysterious rites. I\ncare not a straw what Mezentius may think of me; but to others I make\nthis announcement clearly and unshrinkingly. If any of you that are\nhere present had any part with me in these same solemn ceremonies,\ngive a sign and you shall hear what it is I keep thus. For no thought\nof personal safety shall induce me to reveal to the uninitiated the\nsecrets that I have received and sworn to conceal.\n\n57. I have, I think, Maximus, said enough to satisfy the most\nprejudiced of men and, as far as the handkerchief is concerned, have\ncleared myself of every speck of guilt. I shall run no risk in passing\nfrom the suspicions of Aemilianus to the evidence of Crassus, which my\naccusers read out next as if it were of the utmost importance. You\nheard them read from a written deposition, the evidence of a gorging\nbrute, a hopeless glutton, named Junius Crassus, that I performed\ncertain nocturnal rites at his house in company with my friend Appius\nQuintianus, who had taken lodgings there. This, mark you, Crassus says\nthat he discovered (in spite of the fact that he was as far away as\nAlexandria at the time!) from finding the feathers of birds and traces\nof the smoke of a torch. I suppose that while he was enjoying a round\nof festivities at Alexandria--for Crassus is one who is ready even to\nencroach upon the daylight with his gluttonies--I suppose, I say, that\nthere from his reeking tavern he espied, with eye keen as any\nfowler's, feathers of birds wafted towards him from his house, and saw\nthe smoke of his home rising far off from his ancestral roof-tree. If\nhe saw this with his eyes, he saw even further than Ulysses prayed and\nyearned to see. For Ulysses spent years in gazing vainly from the\nshore to see the smoke rising from his home, while Crassus during a\nfew months' absence from home succeeded, without the least difficulty,\nin seeing this same smoke as he sat in a wine-shop! If, on the other\nhand, it was his nose discerned the smoke, he surpasses hounds and\nvultures in the keenness of his sense of smell. For what hound, what\nvulture hovering in the Alexandrian sky, could sniff out anything so\nfar distant as Oea? Crassus is, I admit, a _gourmand_ of the first\norder, and an expert in all the varied flavours of kitchen-smoke, but\nin view of his love of drinking, his only real title to fame, it would\nhave been easier for the fumes of his wine, rather than the fumes of\nhis chimney, to reach him at Alexandria.\n\n58. Even he saw that this would pass belief. For he is said to have\nsold this evidence before eight in the morning while he was still\nfasting from food and drink! And so he wrote that he had made his\ndiscovery in the following manner. On his return from Alexandria he\nwent straight to his house, which Quintianus had by this time left.\nThere in the entrance-hall he came across a large quantity of birds'\nfeathers: the walls, moreover, were blackened with soot. He asked the\nreason of this from the slave whom he had left at Oea, and the latter\ninformed him of the nocturnal rites carried out by myself and\nQuintianus. What an ingenious lie! What a probable invention! That I,\nhad I wished to do anything of the sort, should have done it there\nrather than in my own house! That Quintianus, who is supporting me\nhere to-day, and whom I mention with the greatest respect and honour\nfor the close love that binds him to me, for his deep erudition and\nconsummate eloquence, that this same Quintianus, supposing him to have\ndined off some birds or, as they assert, killed them for magical\npurposes, should have had no slave to sweep up the feathers and throw\nthem out of doors! Or further that the smoke should have been strong\nenough to blacken the walls and that Quintianus should have suffered\nsuch defacement of the room in which he slept, while it was still in\nhis occupation! Nonsense, Aemilianus! There is no probability in the\nstory, unless indeed Crassus on his return went not to the bedroom,\nbut after his fashion made straight for the kitchen. And what made\nhis slave suspect that the walls had been blackened by night in\nparticular? Was it the colour of the smoke? Does night smoke differ\nfrom day smoke in being darker? And why did so suspicious and\nconscientious a slave allow Quintianus to leave the house before\nhaving it cleaned? Why did those feathers lie like lead and await the\narrival of Crassus for so long? Let not Crassus accuse his slave. It\nis much more likely that he himself fabricated this mendacious\nnonsense about feathers and soot, being unable even in his evidence to\ndivorce himself further from his kitchen.\n\n59. And why did you read out this evidence from a written deposition?\nWhere in the world is Crassus? Has he returned to Alexandria out of\ndisgust at the state of his house? Is he washing his walls? or, as is\nmore likely, is the glutton feeling ill after his debauch? I myself\nsaw him yesterday here at Sabrata hiccoughing in your face,\nAemilianus, in the most conspicuous manner in the middle of the\nmarket-place. Pray, Maximus, ask your slaves whose duty it is to keep\nyou informed of people's names--although, I admit, Crassus is better\nknown to the keepers of taverns--yet ask them, I say, whether they\nhave ever seen Junius Crassus, a citizen of Oea, in this place. They\nwill answer 'yes'. Let Aemilianus then produce this most admirable\nyoung man on whose testimony he relies. You notice the time of day. I\ntell you that Crassus has long since been snoring in a drunken slumber\nor has taken a second bathe and is now evaporating the sweat of\nintoxication at the bath that he may be equal to a fresh drinking bout\nafter supper. He presents himself in writing only. That is the way he\nspeaks to you, Maximus. Even he is not so dead to sense of shame as to\nbe able to lie to your face without a blush. But there is perhaps\nanother reason for his absence. He may have been unable to abstain\nfrom the wine-cup[17] sufficiently long to keep sober against this\nmoment; or it may be that Aemilianus took good care not to subject him\nto your severe and searching gaze, lest you should damn the brute with\nhis close-shaven cheeks and his disgusting appearance by a mere glance\nat his face, when you saw a young man with his features stripped of\nthe beard and hair that should adorn them, his eyes heavy with wine,\nhis lids swollen, his broad[18] grin, his slobbering lips, his harsh\nvoice, his trembling hands, his breath[19] reeking of the cook-shop.\nHe has long since devoured his fortune; nothing is left him of his\npatrimony save a house that serves him for the sale of his false\nwitness, and never did he make a more remunerative contract than he\nhas done with regard to this evidence he offers to-day. For he sold\nAemilianus his drunken fictions for 3,000 sesterces, as every one at\nOea is aware.\n\n[Footnote 17: _a bria_ (Hildebrand).]\n\n[Footnote 18: _rictum diductum_ (Jahn).]\n\n[Footnote 19: _ructus popinam_ (Pricaeus).]\n\n60. We all knew of this before it actually took place. I might have\nprevented the transaction by denouncing it, but I knew that so foolish\na lie would be prejudicial to Aemilianus, who wasted his money to\nsecure it, rather than to myself, who treated it with the contempt it\ndeserved. I wished not only that Aemilianus should lose his money, but\nthat Crassus should have his reputation ruined by his disgraceful\nperjury. It was but the day before yesterday that the transaction took\nplace in the most open manner at the house of Rufinus, of whom I shall\nsoon have something to say. Rufinus and Calpurnianus acted as\nmiddlemen and arranged the bargain.[20] The former carried out the\ntask with all the more readiness because he was certain that his wife,\nat whose misconduct he knowingly connives, would be sure to recover\nfrom Crassus a large proportion of his fee for perjury. I noticed that\nyou also, Maximus, suspected with your usual acuteness that they, as\nsoon as this written evidence was produced, had formed a league and\nconspiracy against me; and I saw from your face that the whole affair\nexcited your disgust. Finally my accusers, in spite of their being\nparagons of audacity and monsters of shamelessness, did not dare to\nread out Crassus' evidence in full or to build anything upon it; for\nthey saw that at the mention of his name you smelt a rat. I have\nmentioned these facts not because I am afraid of these dreadful\nfeathers and stains of soot--least of all with you to judge me--but\nthat Crassus might meet with due punishment for having sold mere smoke\nto a helpless rustic like Aemilianus.\n\n[Footnote 20: _depectoribus_ (Kronenberg).]\n\n61. Their next[21] charge concerns the manufacture of a seal which\nthey produced when they read Pudentilla's letters. This seal, they\nassert, I had fashioned of the rarest wood by some secret process for\npurposes of the black art. They add that, although it is loathly and\nhorrible to look upon, being in the form of a skeleton, I yet give it\nespecial honour and call it in the Greek tongue, [Greek: basileus], my\nking. I think I am right in saying that I am following the various\nstages of their accusation in due order and reconstructing the whole\nfabric of their slander detail by detail.\n\n[Footnote 21: _inde_ (Acidalius).]\n\nNow how can the manufacture of this seal have been secret, as you\nassert, when you are sufficiently well acquainted with the maker to\nhave summoned him to appear in court? Here is Cornelius Saturninus,\nthe artist, a man whose skill is famous among his townsfolk and whose\ncharacter is above reproach. A little while back, in answer, Maximus,\nto your careful cross-examination, he explained the whole sequence of\nevents in the most convincing and truthful manner. He said that I\nvisited his shop and, after looking at many geometrical patterns all\ncarved out of boxwood in the most cunning and ingenious manner, was so\nmuch attracted by his skill that I asked him to make me certain\nmechanical devices and also begged him to make me the image of some\ngod to which I might pray after my custom. The particular god and the\nprecise material I left to his choice, my only stipulation being that\nit should be made of wood. He therefore first attempted to work in\nboxwood. Meanwhile, during my absence in the country, Sicinius\nPontianus, my step-son, wishing to gratify me,[22] procured some ebony\ntablets from that excellent lady Capitolina and brought them to his\nshop, exhorting him to make what I had ordered out of this rarer and\nmore durable material: such a gift, he said, would be most gratifying\nto me. Our artist did as Pontianus suggested, as far as the size of\nthe ebony tablets permitted. By careful dove-tailing of minute\nportions of the tablets he succeeded in making a small figure of\nMercury.\n\n[Footnote 22: _gratum factum_ (Van der Vliet).]\n\n62. You heard all the evidence just as I repeat it. Moreover it\nreceives exact confirmation from the answers given to you in\ncross-examination by Capitolina's son, a youth of the most excellent\ncharacter, who is here in court to-day. He said that Pontianus asked\nfor the tablets, that Pontianus took them to the artist Saturninus.\nNor does he deny that Pontianus received the completed signet from\nSaturninus and afterwards gave it me. All these things have been\nopenly and manifestly proved. What remains, in which any suspicion of\nsorcery can lie concealed? Nay, what is there that does not absolutely\nconvict you of obvious falsehood? You said that the seal was of secret\nmanufacture, whereas Pontianus, a distinguished member of the\nequestrian order, gave the commission for it. The figure was carved in\npublic by Saturninus as he sat in his shop. He is a man of sterling\ncharacter and recognized honesty. The work was assisted by the\nmunificence of a distinguished married lady, and many both among the\nslaves and the acquaintances who frequented my house were aware both\nof the commission for the work and its execution. You were not ashamed\nfalsely to pretend that I had searched high and low for the requisite\nwood through all the town, although you know that I was absent from\nOea at that time, and although it has been proved that I gave a free\nhand as to the material.\n\n63. Your third lie was that the figure which was made was the lean,\neviscerated frame of a gruesome corpse, utterly horrible and ghastly\nas any goblin. If you had discovered such definite proof of my\nsorceries, why did you not insist on my producing it in court? Was it\nthat you might have complete freedom for inventing lies in the absence\nof the subject of your slanders? If so, the opportunity afforded you\nfor mendacity has been lost you, thanks to a certain habit of mine\nwhich comes in most opportunely. It is my wont wherever I go to carry\nwith me the image of some god hidden among my books and to pray to him\non feast days with offerings of incense and wine and sometimes even of\nvictims. When, therefore, I heard persistent though outrageously\nmendacious assertions that the figure I carried was that of a\nskeleton, I ordered some one to go and bring from my house my little\nimage of Mercury, the same that Saturninus had made for me at Oea. You\nthere, give it them! Let them see it, hold it, examine it. There you\nsee the image which that scoundrel called a skeleton. Do you hear\nthese cries of protest that arise from all present? Do you hear the\ncondemnation of your lie? Are you not at last ashamed of all your\nslanders? Is this a skeleton, this a goblin, is this the familiar\nspirit you asserted it to be? Is this a magic symbol or one that is\ncommon and ordinary? Take it, I beg you, Maximus, and examine it. It\nis good that a holy thing should be entrusted to hands as pure and\npious as yours. See there, how fair it is to view, how full of all a\nwrestler's grace and vigour! How cheerful is the god's face, how\ncomely the down that creeps on either side his cheeks, how the curled\nhair shows upon his head beneath the shadow of his hat's brim, how\nneatly the tiny pair of pinions project about his brows, how daintily\nthe cloak is drawn about his shoulders! He who dares call this a\nskeleton, either never sees an image of a god or if he does ignores\nit. Indeed, he who thinks this to represent a goblin must have goblins\non the brain.\n\n64. But in return for that lie, Aemilianus, may that same god who goes\nbetween the lords of heaven and the lords of hell grant you the hatred\nof the gods of either world and ever send to meet you the shadows of\nthe dead with all the ghosts, with all the fiends, with all the\nspectres, with all the goblins of all the world, and thrust upon your\neyes all the terror that walketh by night, all the dread dwellers in\nthe tomb, all the horrors of the sepulchre, although your age and\ncharacter have brought you near enough to them already. But we of the\nfamily of Plato know naught save what is bright and joyous, majestic\nand heavenly and of the world above us. Nay, in its zeal to reach the\nheights of wisdom, the Platonic school has explored regions higher\nthan heaven itself and has stood triumphant on the outer circumference\nof this our universe. Maximus knows that I speak truth, for in his\ncareful study of the _Phaedrus_ he has read of the 'place that is\nhigher than heaven, being builded on heaven's back.' Maximus also\nclearly understands--I am now going to reply to your accusation about\nthe name--who he is whom not I but Plato was first to call the 'King'.\n'All things,' he says, 'depend upon the King of all things and for him\nonly all things exist.' Maximus knows who that 'King' is, even the\ncause and reason and primal origin of all nature, the lord and father\nof the soul, the eternal saviour of all that lives, the unwearying\nbuilder of his world. Yet builds he without labour, yet saves he\nwithout care, he is father without begetting, he knows no limitation\nof space or time or change, and therefore few may conceive and none\nmay tell of his power.\n\n65. I will even go out of my way to aggravate the suspicion of\nsorcery; I will not tell you, Aemilianus, who it is that I worship as\nmy king. Even if the proconsul should ask me himself who my god is, I\nam dumb.\n\nAbout the name I have said enough for the present. For the rest I know\nthat some of my audience are anxious to hear why I wanted the figure\nmade not of silver or gold, but only of wood, though I think that\ntheir desire springs not so much from their anxiety to see me cleared\nof guilt as from eagerness for knowledge. They would like to have this\nlast doubt removed, even although they see that I have amply rebutted\nall suspicion of any crime. Listen, then, you who would know, but\nlisten with all the sharpness and attention that you may, for you are\nto hear the very words that Plato wrote in his old age in the last\nbook of the _Laws_. 'The man of moderate means when he makes offerings\nto the gods should do so in proportion to his means. Now, earth and\nthe household hearths of all men are holy to all the gods. Let no one\ntherefore dedicate any shrines to the gods over and above these.' He\nforbids this with the purpose of preventing men from venturing to\nbuild private shrines; for he thinks that the public temples suffice\nhis citizens for the purposes of sacrifice. He then continues, 'Gold\nand silver in other cities, whether in the keeping of private persons\nor of temples, are invidious possessions; ivory taken from a body\nwherefrom the life has passed is not a welcome offering; iron and\nbronze are instruments of war. Whatsoever a man dedicates, let it be\nof wood and wood only, or if it be of stone, of stone only.' The\ngeneral murmur of assent shows, O Maximus, and you, gentlemen, who\nhave the honour to assist him, that I am adjudged to have made\nadmirable use of Plato, not only as a guide in life, but as an\nadvocate in court, to whose instructions, as you see, I give implicit\nobedience.\n\n66. It is now time for me to turn first and foremost to the letters of\nPudentilla, or rather to retrace the whole course of events a little\nfurther back still. For I desire to make it abundantly clear that I,\nwhom they keep accusing of having forced my way into Pudentilla's\nhouse solely through love of money, ought really never to have come\nnear that house, had the thought of money ever crossed my mind. My\nmarriage has for many reasons brought me the reverse of prosperity\nand, but for the fact that my wife's virtues are compensation for any\nnumber of disadvantages, might be described as disastrous.\n\nDisappointment and envy are the sole causes that have involved me in\nthis trial, and even before that gathered many mortal perils about my\npath. What motives for resentment has Aemilianus against me, even\nassuming him to be correctly informed when he accuses me of magic? No\nleast word of mine has ever injured him in such a way as to give him\nthe appearance of pursuing a just revenge. It is certainly no lofty\nambition that prompts him to accuse me, ambition such as fired Marcus\nAntonius to accuse Cnaeus Carbo, Caius Mucius to accuse Aulus\nAlbucius, Publius Sulpicius to accuse Cnaeus Norbanus, Caius Furius to\naccuse Manius Aquilius, Caius Curio to accuse Quintus Metellus. They\nwere young men of admirable education and were led by ambition to\nundertake these accusations as the first step in a forensic career,\nthat by the conduct of some _cause celebre_ they might make themselves\na name among their fellow citizens. This privilege was conceded by\nantiquity to young men just entering public life as a means of winning\nglory for their youthful genius. The custom has long since become\nobsolete, but even if the practice were still common, it would not\napply to Aemilianus. It would not have been becoming to him to make\nany display of his eloquence, for he is rude and unlettered; nor to\nshow a passion for renown, since he is a mere barbarian bumpkin; nor\nthus to open his career as an advocate, for he is an old man on the\nbrink of the grave. The only hypothesis creditable to him would be\nthat he is perhaps giving an example of his austerity of character and\nhas undertaken this accusation through sheer hatred of wrongdoing and\nto assert his own integrity. But I should hardly accept such an\nhypothesis even in the case of a greater Aemilianus, not our African\nfriend here, but the conqueror of Africa and Numantia, who held,\nmoreover, the office of censor at Rome. Much less will I believe that\nthis dull blockhead, I will not say, hates sin, but recognizes it when\nhe sees it.\n\n67. What then was his motive? It is as clear as day to any one that\nenvy is the sole motive that has spurred him and Herennius Rufinus,\nhis instigator--of whom I shall have more to say later--and the rest\nof my enemies, to fabricate these false charges of sorcery.\n\nWell, there are five points which I must discuss. If I remember\naright, their accusations as regards Pudentilla were as follows.\nFirstly, they said that after the death of her first husband she\nresolutely set her face against re-marriage, but was seduced by my\nincantations. Secondly, there are her letters, which they regard as an\nadmission that I used sorcery. Thirdly and fourthly, they object that\nshe made a love-match at the advanced age of sixty and that the\nmarriage contract was sealed not in the town but at a country house.\nLastly, there is the most invidious of all these accusations, namely,\nthat which concerns the dowry. It is into this charge they have put\nall their force and all their venom; it is this that vexes them most\nof all. They assert that at the very outset of our wedded life I\nforced my devoted wife in the absolute seclusion of her country house\nto make over to me a large dowry. I will show that all these\nstatements are so false, so worthless, so unsubstantial, and I shall\nrefute them so easily and unquestionably, that in good truth, Maximus,\nand you, gentlemen, his assessors, I fear you may think that I have\nsuborned my accusers to bring these charges, that I might have the\nopportunity of publicly dispelling the hatred of which I am the\nvictim. I will ask you to believe _now_, what you will understand when\nthe facts are before you, that I shall need to put out all my strength\nto prevent you from thinking that such a baseless accusation is a\ncunning device of my own rather than a stupid enterprise of my\nenemies.\n\n68. I shall now briefly retrace events and force Aemilianus himself\nto admit, when he has heard the facts, that his envy was groundless\nand that he has strayed far from the truth. In the meantime I beg you,\nas you have already done, or if possible yet more than you have\nalready done, to give the best of your attention to me as I trace the\nwhole case to its fount and source.\n\nAemilia Pudentilla, now my wife, was once the wife of a certain\nSicinius Amicus. By him she had two sons, Pontianus and Pudens. These\ntwo boys were left by their father's death under the guardianship of\ntheir paternal grandfather--for Amicus predeceased his father--and\nwere brought up by their mother with remarkable care and affection for\nabout fourteen years. She was in the flower of her age, and it was not\nof her own choosing that she remained a widow for so long. But the\nboys' grandfather was eager that she should, in spite of her\nreluctance, take his son, Sicinius Clarus, for her second husband[23]\nand with this in view kept all other suitors at a distance. He further\nthreatened her that if she married elsewhere he would by his will\nexclude her sons from the possession of any of their father's\nheritage. When she saw that nothing could move him to alter the\ncondition that he had laid down, such was her wisdom, and so admirable\nher maternal affection, that to prevent her sons' interests suffering\nany damage in this respect, she made a contract of marriage with\nSicinius Clarus in accordance with her father-in-law's bidding, but by\nvarious evasions managed to avoid the marriage until the boys'\ngrandfather died, leaving them as his heirs, with the result that\nPontianus, the elder son, became his brother's guardian.\n\n[Footnote 23: _iterum_ (Riese).]\n\n69. She was now freed from all embarrassment, and being sought in\nmarriage by many distinguished persons resolved to remain a widow no\nlonger. The dreariness of her solitary life she might have borne, but\nher bodily infirmities had become intolerable. This chaste and saintly\nlady, after so many years of blameless widowhood, without even a\nbreath of scandal, owing to her long absence from a husband's\nembraces, began to suffer internal pains so severe that they brought\nher to the brink of the grave. Doctors and wise women agreed that the\ndisease had its origin in her long widowhood, that the evil was\nincreasing daily and her sickness steadily assuming a more serious\ncharacter; the remedy was that she should marry before her youth\nfinally departed from her. There were many who welcomed this\nrecommendation, but none more so than that fellow Aemilianus, who a\nlittle while back asserted with the most unhesitating mendacity that\nPudentilla had never thought of marriage until I compelled her to be\nmine by my exercise of the black art; that I alone had been found to\noutrage the virgin purity of her widowhood by incantations and love\nphiltres. I have often heard it said with truth that a liar should\nhave a good memory. Had you forgotten, Aemilianus, that before I came\nto Oea, you wrote to her son Pontianus, who had then attained to man's\nestate and was pursuing his studies at Rome, suggesting that she\nshould marry? Give me the letter, or better give it to Aemilianus and\nlet him refute himself in his own voice with his own words.\n\nIs this your letter? Why do you turn pale? We know you are past\nblushing. Is this your signature? Read a little louder, please, that\nall may realize how his written words belie his speech and how much\nmore he is at variance with himself than with me.\n\n70. Did you, Aemilianus, write what has just been read out? 'I know\nthat she is willing to marry and that she ought to do so, but I do not\nknow the object of her choice.' You were right there. You knew nothing\nabout it. For Pudentilla, though she admitted that she wished to marry\nagain, said nothing to you about her suitor. She knew the intrusive\nmalignity of your nature too well. But you still expected her to marry\nyour brother Clarus and were induced by your false hopes to go further\nand to urge her son to assent to the match. And of course, if she had\nwedded Clarus, a boorish and decrepit old man, you would have asserted\nthat she had long desired to marry him of her own free will without\nthe intervention of any magic. But now that she has married a young\nman of the elegance which you attribute to him, you say that she had\nalways refused to marry and must have done so under compulsion! You\ndid not know, you villain, that the letter you had written on the\nsubject was being preserved, you did not know that you would be\nconvicted by your own testimony. The fact is that Pudentilla, knowing\nyour changeableness and unreliability no less than your shamelessness\nand mendacity, rather than forward the letter preferred to keep it as\nclear evidence of your intentions, and wrote a letter of her own on\nthe same subject to her son Pontianus at Rome, in which she gave full\nreasons for her determination. She told him pretty fully about the\nstate of her health; there was no longer any reason for her to persist\nin remaining a widow; she had so remained for thus long and had\nsacrificed her health solely to procure him the inheritance of his\ngrandfather's fortune, a fortune to which she had by the exercise of\nthe greatest care made considerable additions: Pontianus himself was\nnow by the grace of heaven ripe for marriage and his brother for the\ngarb of manhood. She begged them to suffer her at length to solace her\nlonely existence and to relieve her ill health: they need have no\nfears as to her final choice or as to her motherly affection; she\nwould still be as a wife what she had been as a widow. I will order a\ncopy of this letter to her son to be read aloud. (_The letter is\nread._)\n\n71. This letter makes it, I think, sufficiently clear that it needed\nno incantations of mine to move Pudentilla from her resolve to remain\na widow, but that she had been for some time by no means averse to\nmarriage, when she chose me--it may be in preference to others. I\ncannot see why such a choice by so excellent a woman should be brought\nagainst me as matter for reproach rather than honour. But I admit\nfeeling surprise that Aemilianus and Rufinus should be annoyed at the\nlady's decision, when those who were actually suitors for her hand\nacquiesce in her preference for myself. She was indeed guided in\nmaking her choice less by her personal inclination than by the advice\nof her son, a fact which Aemilianus cannot deny. For Pontianus on\nreceiving his mother's letter hastily flew hither from Rome, fearing\nthat, if the man of her choice proved to be avaricious, she might, as\noften happens, transfer her whole fortune to the house of her new\nhusband. This anxiety tormented him not a little. All his own\nexpectations of wealth together with those of his brother depended on\nhis mother. His grandfather had left but a moderate fortune, his\nmother possessed 4,000,000 sesterces. Of this sum, it is true, she\nowed a considerable portion to her sons, but they had no security for\nthis, relying--naturally enough--on her word alone. He gave but silent\nexpression to his fears; he did not venture to show any open\nopposition for fear of seeming to distrust her.\n\n72. Things being in this delicate position owing to the matrimonial\nintentions of the mother and the fears of the son, chance or destiny\nbrought me to Oea on my way to Alexandria. Did not my respect for my\nwife prevent me, I would say 'Would God it had never happened'. It was\nwinter when this occurred. Overcome by the fatigues of the journey, I\nwas laid up for a considerable number of days in the house of my\nfriends the Appii, whom I name to show the affection and esteem with\nwhich I regard them. There Pontianus came to see me; for not so very\nlong before certain common friends had introduced him to me at Athens,\nand we had afterwards lodged together and come to know each other\nintimately. He greeted me with the utmost courtesy, inquired anxiously\nafter my health, and touched dexterously on the subject of love. For\nhe thought that he had found an ideal husband for his mother to whom\nhe could without the slightest risk entrust the whole fortune of the\nhouse. At first he sounded me as to my inclinations in somewhat\nambiguous language, and seeing that I was desirous of resuming my\njourney and was not in the least disposed to take a wife, he begged me\nat any rate to remain at Oea for a little while, as he himself was\ndesirous of travelling with me. Since my physical infirmity had made\nit impossible for me to profit by the present winter, he urged that it\nwould be well to wait for the next owing to the danger presented by\nthe passage of the Syrtes and the risk of encountering wild beasts.\nHis urgent entreaty induced my friends the Appii to allow me to leave\nthem and to become his guest in his mother's house. I should find the\nsituation healthier, he said, and should get a freer view of the\nsea--a special attraction in my eyes.\n\n73. He had shown the greatest eagerness in inducing me to come to this\ndecision, and strongly recommended his mother and his brother--that\nboy there--to my consideration. I gave them some help in our common\nstudies and a marked intimacy sprang up between us. Meanwhile I\ngradually recovered my health. At the instance of my friends I gave a\ndiscourse in public. This took place in the basilica, which was\nthronged by a vast audience. I was greeted with many expressions of\napproval, the audience shouted 'bravo! bravo!' like one man, and\nbesought me to remain and become a citizen of Oea. On the dispersal of\nthe audience Pontianus approached me, and by way of prelude said that\nsuch universal enthusiasm was nothing less than a sign from heaven. He\nthen revealed to me that it was his cherished design--with my\npermission--to bring about a match between myself and his mother, for\nwhose hand there were many suitors. He added that I was the only\nfriend in the world in whom he could put implicit trust and\nconfidence. If I were to refuse to undertake such a responsibility,\nsimply because it was no fair heiress that was offered me, but a woman\nof plain appearance and the mother of children--if I were moved by\nthese considerations and insisted on reserving myself for a more\nattractive and wealthier match, my behaviour would be unworthy of a\nfriend and a philosopher. It would take too long--even if I were\nwilling--to tell you what I replied and how long and how frequently we\nconversed on the subject, with how many pressing entreaties he plied\nme, never ceasing until he finally won my consent. I had had ample\nopportunity for observing Pudentilla's character, for I had lived for\na whole year continually in her company and had realized how rich was\nher endowment of good qualities; but my desire for travel led me to\ndesire to refuse the match as an impediment. But I soon began to love\nher for her virtues as ardently as though I had wooed her of my own\ninitiative. Pontianus had also persuaded his mother to give me the\npreference over all her other suitors, and showed extraordinary\neagerness for the marriage to take place at the earliest possible\ndate. We could scarcely induce him to consent to the very briefest\npostponement to such time as he himself should have taken a wife and\nhis brother in due course have assumed the garb of manhood. That done,\nwe would be married at once.\n\n74. Would to heaven it were possible without serious damage to my case\nto pass by what I have now to relate. I freely forgave Pontianus when\nhe begged for pardon, and I have no wish to seem to reproach him now\nfor the fickleness of his conduct. I acknowledge the truth of a\ncircumstance brought against me by my accusers, I admit that\nPontianus, after taking to himself a wife, broke his pledged word and\nsuddenly changed his mind; that he tried to prevent the fulfilment of\nthis project with no less obstinacy than he had shown zeal in\nforwarding it. He was ready to make any sacrifice, to go any lengths,\nto prevent our marriage taking place. Nevertheless this discreditable\nchange of attitude, this deliberate quarrel with his mother, must not\nbe laid to his charge, but to that of his father-in-law, Herennius\nRufinus, whom you see before you, a man than whom no more worthless,\nwicked, and grime-stained soul lives upon this earth. I will--since I\ncannot avoid it--give a brief description of this man's character,\nusing such moderation as I may, lest, if I pass him by in silence, the\nenergy which he has shown in engineering this accusation against me\nshould have been spent all in vain.\n\nThis is the man who poisoned that worthless boy against me, who is the\nprime mover in this accusation, who has hired advocates and bought\nwitnesses. This is the furnace in which all this calumny has been\nforged, this the firebrand, this the scourge that has driven\nAemilianus here to his task. He makes it his boast before all men in\nthe most extravagant language that it is through his machinations that\nmy indictment has been procured. In truth he has some reason for\nself-congratulation. For he is the organizer of every lawsuit, the\ndeviser of every perjury, the architect of every lie, the seed-ground\nof every wickedness, the vile haunt and hideous habitation of lust and\ngluttony, the mark of every scandal since his earliest years: in\nboyhood, ere he became so hideously bald, the ready servant of the\nvilest vices; in youth a stage dancer limp and nerveless enough in all\nconscience, but, they tell me, clumsy and inartistic in his very\neffeminacy. Except for his immodesty he is said not to have possessed\na single quality that should distinguish an actor.\n\n75. He is older now--God's curse upon him! I crave your pardon for my\nwarmth of language. But his house is the dwelling-place of panders,\nhis whole household foul with sin, himself a man of infamous\ncharacter, his wife a harlot, his sons like their parents. His door\nnight and day is battered with the kicks of wanton gallants, his\nwindows loud with the sound of loose serenades, his dining-room wild\nwith revel, his bedchambers the haunt of adulterers. For no one need\nfear to enter it save he who has no gift for the husband. Thus does he\nmake an income from his own dishonour. What else should the wretch do?\nHe has lost a considerable fortune, though I admit that he only got\nthat fortune unexpectedly through a fraudulent transaction on the part\nof his father. The latter, having borrowed money from a number of\npersons, preferred to keep their money at the cost of his own good\nname. Bills poured in on every side with demands for payment. Every\none that met him laid hands on him as though he were a madman.\n'Steady, now!' says he, 'I can't find the cash.' So he resigned his\ngolden rings and all the badges of his position in society and thus\ncame to terms with his creditors. But he had by a most ingenious fraud\ntransferred the greater part of his property to his wife, and so,\nalthough he himself was needy, ill-clad and protected by the very\ndepth of his fall, managed to leave this same Rufinus--I am telling\nyou the truth and nothing but the truth--no less than 3,000,000\nsesterces to be squandered on riotous living. This was the sum that\ncame to him unencumbered from his mother's property, over and above\nthe daily dowry brought him by his wife. Yet all this money has been\nravenously devoured by this glutton in a few short years, all this\nfortune has been destroyed by the infinite variety of his\ngormandizing; so that you might really think him to be afraid of\nseeming in any way to be the gainer by his father's dishonesty. This\nhonourable fellow actually took care that what had been ill-gained\nshould be ill-spent, nor was anything left him from his too ample\nfortune, save his depraved ambition and his boundless appetite.\n\n76. His wife, however, was getting old and worn out and refused to\ncontinue to support the whole household by her own dishonour. But\nthere was a daughter who, at her mother's instigation, was exhibited\nto all the wealthy young men, but in vain. Had she not come across so\neasy a victim as Pontianus she would perhaps still have been sitting\nat home a widow who had never been a bride. Pontianus, in spite of\nurgent attempts on our part to dissuade him, gave her the right--false\nand illusory though it was--to be called a bride. He did this knowing\nthat, but a short time before he married her, she had been seduced and\ndeserted by a young man of good family to whom she had been previously\nbetrothed. And so his new bride came to him, not as other brides come,\nbut unabashed and undismayed, her virtue lost, her modesty gone, her\nbridal-veil a mockery. Cast off by her previous lover, she brought to\nher wedding the name without the purity of a maid. She rode in a\nlitter carried by eight slaves. You who were present saw how\nimpudently she made eyes at all the young and how immodestly she\nflaunted her charms. Who did not recognize her mother's pupil, when\nthey saw her dyed lips, her rouged cheeks, and her lascivious eyes?\nHer dowry was borrowed, every farthing of it, on the eve of her\nwedding, and was indeed greater than could be expected of so large and\nimpoverished a family.\n\n77. But though Rufinus' fortune is small, his hopes are boundless.\nWith avarice rivalled only by his need he had already devoured\nPudentilla's 4,000,000 in vain anticipation. With this in view he\ndecided that I must be got out of the way, in order that he might find\nfewer obstacles in his attempt to hoodwink the weak Pontianus and the\nlonely Pudentilla. He began, therefore, to upbraid his son-in-law for\nhaving betrothed his mother to me. He urged him to draw back without\ndelay from so perilous a path, while there was yet time; to keep his\nmother's fortune himself rather than deliberately transfer it to the\nkeeping of a stranger. He threatened that, if he refused, he would\ntake away his daughter, the device of an old hand to influence a young\nman in love. To be brief, he so wrought upon the simple-minded young\nman, who was, moreover, a slave to the charms of his new bride, as to\nmould him to his will and move him from his purpose. Pontianus went to\nhis mother and told her what Rufinus had said to him. But he made no\nimpression on her steadfast character. On the contrary, she rebuked\nhim for his fickleness and inconstancy, and it was no pleasant news he\ntook back to his father-in-law. His mother had shown a firmness of\npurpose not to be expected of one of her placid disposition, and to\nmake matters worse his expostulations had made her angry, which was\nlikely seriously to increase her obstinacy: in fact, she had finally\nreplied, that it was no secret to her that his expostulations were\ninstigated by Rufinus, a fact which made the support and assistance of\na husband against his desperate greed all the more necessary to her.\n\n78. When he heard this, the ruffian was stung to fury and burst into\nsuch wild and ungovernable rage that in the presence of her own son he\nheaped insults, such as he might have used to his own wife, on the\npurest and most modest of women. In the presence of many witnesses,\nwhom, if you desire it, I will name, he loudly denounced her as a\nwanton and myself as a sorcerer and poisoner, threatening to murder me\nwith his own hands. I can hardly restrain my anger, such fierce\nindignation fills my soul. That you, the most effeminate of men,\nshould threaten any man with death at your hand! Your hand! What hand!\nThe hand of Philomela or Medea or Clytemnestra? Why, when you dance in\nthose characters you show such contemptible timidity, you are so\nfrightened at the sight of steel, that you will not even carry a\nproperty sword? But I am digressing. Pudentilla, seeing to her\nastonishment that her son had fallen lower than she could have deemed\npossible, went into the country and by way of rebuke wrote him the\nnotorious letter, in which, according to my accusers, she confessed\nthat my magical practices had made her lose her reason and fall in\nlove with me. And yet, Maximus, the day before yesterday at your\ncommand I took a copy of the letter in the presence of witnesses and\nof Pontianus' secretary. Aemilianus also was there and countersigned\nthe copy. What is the result? In contradiction to my accusers'\nassertion everything is found to tell in my favour.\n\n79. And yet, even if she had spoken somewhat strongly and had called\nme a magician, it would be a reasonable explanation that she had, in\ndefending her conduct to her son, preferred to allege compulsion on my\npart rather than her own inclination. Is Phaedra the only woman whom\nlove has driven to write a lying letter? Is it not rather a device\ncommon to all women that, when they have begun to feel strong desire\nfor anything of this kind, they should prefer to make themselves out\nthe victims of compulsion? But even supposing she had genuinely\nregarded me as a magician, would the mere fact of Pudentilla's writing\nto that effect be a reason for actually regarding me as a magician?\nYou, with all your arguments and your witnesses and your diffuse\neloquence, have failed to prove me a magician. Could she prove it with\none word? A formal indictment, written and signed before a judge, is a\nfar more weighty document than what is written in a private letter!\nWhy do not you prove me a magician by my own deeds instead of having\nrecourse to the mere words of another? If your principle be followed,\nand whatever any one may have written in a letter under the influence\nof love or hatred be admitted as proof, many a man will be indicted on\nthe wildest charges. 'Pudentilla called you a magician in her letter;\ntherefore you are a magician!' If she had called me a consul, would\nthat make me one? What if she had called me a painter, a doctor, or\neven an innocent man? Would you accept any of these statements, simply\nbecause she had made them? You would accept none of them. Yet it is a\ngross injustice to believe a person when he speaks evil of another and\nto refuse to believe him when he speaks well. It is a gross injustice\nthat a letter should have power to destroy and not to save. 'But,'\nsays my accuser, 'she was out of her wits, she loved you\ndistractedly.' I will grant it for the moment. But are all persons,\nwho are the objects of love, magicians, just because the person in\nlove with them chances to say so in a letter? If, indeed, Pudentilla\nwrote in a letter to another person what would clearly be prejudicial\nto myself, I think she could hardly have been in love with me at the\nmoment in question.\n\n80. Tell me now, what is your contention? Was she mad or sane when she\nwrote? Sane, do you say? Then she was not the victim of magic. Insane?\nIn that case she did not know what she was writing and must not be\nbelieved. Nay, even supposing her to have been insane, she would not\nhave been aware of the fact. For just as to say 'I am silent' is to\nmake a fool of oneself, since these very words actually break silence,\nand the act of speaking impugns the substance of one's speech, so it\nis even more absurd to say 'I am mad'. It cannot be true unless the\nspeaker knows what he says, and he who knows what madness is, is\n_ipso facto_ sane. For madness cannot know itself any more than\nblindness can see itself. Therefore Pudentilla was in possession of\nher senses, if she thought she was out of them. I could say more on\nthis point, but enough of dialectic! I will read out the letter which\ngives crying witness to a very different state of things and might\nindeed have been specially prepared to suit this particular trial.\nTake it and read it out until I interrupt. (_The letter is read._)\n\nStop a moment before you go on to what follows. We have come to the\ncrucial point. So far, Maximus, as far at any rate as I have noticed,\nthe lady has made no mention of magic, but has merely repeated in the\nsame order the statements which I quoted a short time ago about her\nlong widowhood, the proposed remedy for her ill health, her desire to\nmarry, the good report she had heard of me from Pontianus, his own\nadvice that she should marry me in preference to others.\n\n81. So much for what has been read. There remains a portion of the\nletter which, although like the first part it was written in my\ndefence, also turns against me. For although it was specially written\nto rebut the charge of magic brought against me, a remarkable piece of\ningenuity on the part of Rufinus has altered its meaning and brought\nme into discredit with certain citizens of Oea as being a proved\nsorcerer. Maximus, you have heard much from the lips of others, you\nhave learned yet more by reading, and your own personal experience\nhas taught you not a little. But you will say that never yet have you\ncome across such insidious cunning or such marvellous dexterity in\ncrime. What Palamedes, what Sisyphus, what Eurybates or Phrynondas\ncould ever have devised such guile? All those whom I have mentioned,\ntogether with all the notorious deceivers of history, would seem mere\nclowns and pantaloons, were they to attempt to match this one single\ninstance of Rufinus' craftiness. O miracle of lies! O subtlety worthy\nof the prison and the stocks! Who could imagine that what was written\nas a defence could without the alteration of a single letter be\ntransformed into an accusation! Good God! it is incredible. But I will\nmake clear to you how the incredible came to pass.\n\n82. The mother was rebuking her son because, after extolling me to her\nas a model of all the virtues, he now, at Rufinus' instigation,\nasserted that I was a magician. The actual words were as follows:\n'Apuleius is a magician and has bewitched me to love him. Come to me,\nthen, while I am still in my senses!' These words, which I have quoted\nin Greek, have been selected by Rufinus and separated from their\ncontext. He has taken them round as a confession on the part of\nPudentilla, and, with Pontianus at his side all dissolved in tears,\nhas shown them through all the market-place, allowing men only to read\nthat portion which I have just cited and suppressing all that comes\nbefore and after. His excuse was that the rest of the letter was too\ndisgusting to be shown; it was sufficient that publicity should be\ngiven to Pudentilla's confession as to my sorcery. What was the\nresult? Every one thought it probable enough. That very letter, which\nwas written to clear my character, excited the most violent hatred\nagainst me amongst those who did not know the facts. This foul villain\nwent rushing about in the midst of the market-place like any\nbacchanal; he kept opening the letter and proclaiming, 'Apuleius is a\nsorcerer! She herself describes her feelings and her sufferings! What\nmore do you demand?' There was no one to take my part and reply, 'Give\nus the whole letter, please! Let me see it all, let me read it from\nbeginning to end. There are many things which, produced apart from\ntheir context, may seem open to a slanderous interpretation. Any\nspeech may be attacked, if a passage depending for its sense on what\nhas preceded be robbed of its commencement, or if phrases be expunged\nat will from the place they logically occupy, or if what is written\nironically be read out in such a tone as to make it seem a defamatory\nstatement.' With what justice this protest or words to that effect\nmight have been uttered the actual order of the letter will show.\n\n83. Now, Aemilianus, try to remember whether the following were not\nthe words of which, together with myself, you took a copy in the\npresence of witnesses, 'For since I desired to marry for the reasons\nof which I told you, you persuaded me to choose Apuleius in preference\nto all others, since you had a great admiration for him and were eager\nthrough me to become yet more intimate with him. But now that certain\nill-natured persons have brought accusations against us and attempt to\ndissuade you, Apuleius has suddenly become a magician and has\nbewitched me to love him. Come to me, then, while I am still in my\nsenses.'\n\nI ask you, Maximus, if letters--some of which are actually called\nvocal[24]--could find a voice, if words, as poets say, could take them\nwings and fly, would they not, when Rufinus first made disingenuous\nexcerpts from that letter, read but a few lines and deliberately said\nnothing of much that bore a more favourable meaning, would not the\nremaining letters have cried out that they were unjustly kept out of\nsight? Would not the words suppressed by Rufinus have flown from his\nhands and filled the whole market-place with tumult, crying that they\ntoo had been sent by Pudentilla, they too had been entrusted with\nsomething to say, and calling upon men to listen to _them_ instead of\ngiving ear to a dishonest villain who was attempting to prove a lie by\nmeans of another's letter? for Pudentilla had never accused Apuleius\nof magic, while Rufinus' accusation was tantamount to an acquittal.\nAll these things were not said then, but now, when they are of more\neffectual service to me, their truth appears clearer than day.\nRufinus, your cunning stands revealed, your fraud stares us in the\nface, your lies are laid bare; truth dethroned for a while rises once\nmore and slander sinks[25] downward to the bottomless pit.\n\n[Footnote 24: i.e. vowels.]\n\n[Footnote 25: _se ecfert--calumnia se mergit_ (Salmasius).]\n\n84. You challenged me with Pudentilla's letter: with that letter I win\nthe day. If you like to hear the conclusion, I will not grudge it\nyou. Tell me, what were the words with which she ended the letter,\nthat poor bewitched, lunatic, insane, infatuated lady? 'I am not\nbewitched, I am not in love; it is my destiny.'[26] Would you have\nanything more? Pudentilla throws your words in your teeth and publicly\nvindicates her sanity against your slanderous aspersions. The motive\nor necessity of her marriage, whichever it was, she now ascribes to\nfate, and between fate and magic there is a great gulf, indeed they\nhave absolutely nothing in common. For if it be true that the destiny\nof each created thing is like a fierce torrent that may neither be\nstayed nor diverted, what power is left for magic drugs or\nincantations? Pudentilla, therefore, not only denied that I was a\nmagician, but denied the very existence of magic. It is a good thing\nthat Pontianus, following his usual custom, kept his mother's letter\nsafe in its entirety: it is a good thing that the speed with which\nthis case has been hurried on left you no opportunity for adding to\nthat letter at your leisure. For this I have to thank you and your\nforesight, Maximus. You saw through their slanders from the beginning\nand hurried on the case that they might not gather strength as the\ndays went by; you gave them no breathing space and wrecked their\ndesigns. Suppose now that the mother, after her wont, _had_ made\nconfession of her passion for me in some private letter to her son.\nWas it just, Rufinus, was it consistent, I will not say with filial\npiety but with common humanity, that these letters should be\ncirculated and, above all, published and proclaimed abroad by her own\nson? But perhaps I am no better than a fool to ask you to have regard\nfor another's sense of decency when you have so long lost your own.\n\n[Footnote 26: [Greek: ten heimarmenen echo] (Rossbach).]\n\n85. Why should I only complain of what is past? The present is equally\ndistressing. To think that this unhappy boy should have been so\ncorrupted by you as to read aloud in the proconsular court, before a\nman of such lofty character as Claudius Maximus, a letter from his\nmother, which he chooses to regard as amatory, and in the presence of\nthe statues of the emperor Pius to accuse his mother of yielding to a\nshameful passion and reproach her with her _amours_? Who is there of\nsuch gentle temper, but that this would wake him to fury? Vilest of\ncreatures, do you pry into your mother's heart in such matters, do you\nwatch her glances, count her sighs, sound her affections, intercept\nher letters, and accuse her of being in love? Do you seek to discover\nwhat she does in the privacy of her own chamber, do you demand--I will\nnot say that she should be above love affairs--but that she should\ncease to be a woman? Cannot you conceive the possibility that she\nshould show any affection save the affection of a mother for her son?\nAh! Pudentilla, you are unhappy in your offspring! Far better have\nbeen barren than have borne such children! Ill-omened were the long\nmonths through which you bore them in your womb and thankless your\nfourteen years of widowhood! The viper, I am told, reaches the light\nof day only by gnawing through its mother's womb; its parent must die\nere it be born. But your son is full-grown and the wounds he deals are\nfar bitterer, for they are inflicted on you while you yet live and see\nthe light of day. He insults your reserve, he arraigns your modesty,\nhe wounds you to the heart and outrages your dearest affections. Is\nthis the gratitude with which a dutiful son like yourself repays his\nmother for the life she gave him, for the inheritance she won him, for\nher long fourteen years of seclusion? Is the result of your uncle's\nteaching this, that, if you were sure your sons would be like\nyourself, you should be afraid to take a wife? There is a well-known\nline\n\n     _I hate the boy that's wise before his time._\n\nYes, and who would not loathe and detest a boy that is 'wicked before\nhis time', when he sees you, like some frightful portent, old in sin\nbut young in years, with the bodily powers of a boy, yet deep in\nguilt, with the bright face of a child, but with wickedness such as\nmight match grey hairs? Nay, the most offensive thing about him is\nthat his pernicious deeds go scot free; he is too young to punish, yet\nold enough to do injury. Injury, did I say? No! crime, unfilial,\nblack, monstrous, intolerable crime!\n\n86. The Athenians, when they captured the correspondence of their\nenemy, Philip of Macedon, and the letters were being read in public\none by one, out of reverence for the common rights of humanity forbade\none letter to be read aloud, a letter addressed by Philip to his wife\nOlympias. They spared the enemy that they might not intrude on the\nprivacy of husband and wife; they placed the law that is common to all\nmankind above the claims of private vengeance. So enemy dealt with\nenemy! How have you dealt with the mother that bore you? You see how\nclose is my parallel. Yet you read out aloud letters written by your\nmother which, according to your assertion, concern her love affairs,\nand you do so before this gathering here assembled, a gathering before\nwhich you would not dare to read the verses of some obscene poet, even\nif bidden to do so, but you would be restrained by some sense of\nshame. Nay, you would never have touched your mother's letters, had\nyou ever been in touch with letters in the wider sense of the term.\nBut you have also dared to submit a letter of your own to be read, a\nletter written about your mother in outrageously disrespectful,\nabusive, and unseemly language, written too at a time when you were\nstill being brought up under her loving care. This letter you sent\nsecretly to Pontianus, and you have now produced it to avoid the\nreproach of having sinned only once and to rescue so good a deed from\noblivion![27] Poor fool, do you not realize that your uncle permitted\nyou to do this, that he might clear himself in public estimation by\nusing your letter as proof that even before you migrated to his house,\neven at the time when you caressed your mother with false words of\nlove, you were already as cunning as any fox and devoid of all filial\naffection?\n\n[Footnote 27: _oblivio_ (Casaubon).]\n\n87. I cannot bring myself to believe Aemilianus such a fool as to\nthink that the letter of a mere boy, who is also one of my accusers,\ncould seriously tell against me.\n\nThere is also that forged letter by which they attempted to prove that\nI beguiled Pudentilla with flattery. I never wrote it and the forgery\nis not even plausible. What need had I of flattery, if I put my trust\nin magic? And how did they secure possession of that letter which\nmust, as is usual in such affairs, have been sent to Pudentilla by\nsome confidential servant? Why, again, should I write in such faulty\nwords, such barbarous language, I whom my accusers admit to be quite\nat home in Greek? And why should I seek to seduce her by flattery so\nabsurd and coarse? They themselves admit that I write amatory verse\nwith sufficient sprightliness and skill. The explanation is obvious to\nevery one; it is this. He who could not read the letter which\nPudentilla wrote in Greek altogether too refined for his\ncomprehension, found it easier to read this letter and set it off to\ngreater advantage because it was his own.\n\nOne more point and I shall have said enough about the letters.\nPudentilla, after writing in jest and irony those words 'Come then,\nwhile I am yet in my senses', sent for her sons and her\ndaughter-in-law and lived with them for about two months. I beg this\nmost dutiful of sons to tell us whether he then noticed his mother's\nalleged madness to have affected for the worse either her words or her\ndeeds. Let him deny that she showed the utmost shrewdness in her\nexamination of the accounts of the bailiffs, grooms, and shepherds,\nthat she earnestly warned his brother Pontianus to be on his guard\nagainst the designs of Rufinus, that she rebuked him severely for\nhaving freely published the letter she had sent him without having\nread it honestly as it was written! Let him deny that, after what I\nhave just related to you, his mother married me in her country house,\nas had been agreed some time previously!\n\n88. The reason for our decision to be married by preference at her\ncountry house not far from Oea was to avoid a fresh concourse of\ncitizens demanding largesse. It was but a short time before that\nPudentilla had distributed 50,000 sesterces to the people on the\noccasion of Pontianus' marriage and this boy's assumption of the garb\nof manhood. We wished also to avoid the frequent and wearisome\ndinner-parties which custom generally imposes on newly-married\ncouples. This is the whole reason, Aemilianus, why our marriage\ncontract was signed not in the town but at a country house in the\nneighbourhood--to avoid squandering another 50,000 sesterces and to\nescape dining in your company or at your house. Is that sufficient? I\nmust say that I am surprised that you object so strongly to the\ncountry house, considering that you spend most of your time in the\ncountry. The Julian marriage-law nowhere contains a clause to the\neffect that no man shall wed in a country house. Indeed, if you would\nknow the truth, it is of far better omen for the expectation of\noffspring that one should marry one's wife in a country house in\npreference to the town, on rich soil in preference to barren ground,\non the greensward of the meadow rather than the pavement of the\nmarket-place. She that would be a mother should marry in the very\nbosom of her mother, among the standing crops, on the fruitful\nplough-land, or she should lie beneath the elm that weds the vine, on\nthe very lap of mother earth, among the springing herbage, the\ntrailing vine-shoots and the budding trees. I may add that the\nmetaphor in the line so well known in comedy\n\n     _That in the furrow children true be sown_\n\nbears out this view most strongly. The ancient Romans also, such as\nQuintius, Serranus and many others, were offered not only wives but\nconsulships and dictatorships in the open field. But I am becoming\nlong-winded. I will restrain myself for fear of gratifying you by my\npraise of country life.\n\n89. As to Pudentilla's age, concerning which you lied so boldly as to\nassert that she had married at the age of sixty, I will reply in a few\nwords. It is not necessary to speak at length in discussing a matter\nwhere the truth is so obvious.\n\nHer father acknowledged her for his daughter in the usual fashion; the\ndocuments in which he did so are preserved partly in the public record\noffice, partly in his house. Here they are before your very eyes.\nPlease hand the documents to Aemilianus. Let him examine the linen\nstrip that bears the seal; let him recognize the seal stamped upon\nit, let him read the names of the consuls for the year, let him count\nup the years. He gave her sixty years. Let him bring out the total at\nfifty-five, admitting that he lied and gave her five too many. Nay,\nthat is hardly enough. I will deal yet more liberally with him. He\ngave Pudentilla such a number of years that I will reward him by\nreturning ten. Mezentius has been wandering with Ulysses; let him at\nleast prove that she is fifty. To cut the matter short, as I am\ndealing with an accuser who is used to multiplying by four, I will\nmultiply five years by four and subtract twenty years at one fell\nswoop. I beg you, Maximus, to order the number of consuls since her\nbirth to be reckoned. If I am not mistaken, you will find that\nPudentilla has barely passed her fortieth year. The insolent audacity\nof this falsehood! Twenty years' exile would be a worthy punishment\nfor such mendacity! Your fiction has added a good half to the sum,\nyour fabrication is one and a half times the size of the original. Had\nyou said thirty years when you ought to have said ten, it might have\nbeen supposed that you had made a slip in the gesture used for your\ncalculation, that you had placed your forefinger against the middle\njoint of your thumb, when you should have made them form a circle. But\nwhereas the gesture indicating forty is the simplest of all such\ngestures, for you have merely to hold out the palm of your hand--you\nhave increased the number by half as much again. There is no room for\nan erroneous gesture; the only possible hypothesis is that, believing\nPudentilla to be thirty, you got your total by adding up the number of\nconsuls, two to each year.\n\n90. I have done with this. I come now to the very heart of the\naccusation, to the actual motive for the use of magic. I ask Rufinus\nand Aemilianus to answer me and tell me--even assuming that I am the\nmost consummate magician--what had I to gain by persuading Pudentilla\nto marry me by means of my love philtres and my incantations. I am\nwell aware that many persons, when accused of some crime or other,\neven if it has been shown that there was some real motive for the\noffence, have amply cleared themselves of guilt by this one line of\ndefence, that the whole record of their lives renders the suspicion of\nsuch a crime incredible and that even though there may have been\nstrong temptation to sin, the mere fact of the existence of the\ntemptation should not be counted against them. We have no right to\nassume that everything that might have been done actually has been\ndone. Circumstances may alter; the one true guide is a man's\ncharacter; the one sure indication that a charge should be rejected or\nbelieved is the fact that through all his life the accused has set his\nface towards vice or virtue as the case may be. I might with the\nutmost justice put in such a plea for myself, but I waive my right in\nyour favour, and shall think that I have made out but a poor case for\nmyself, if I do no more than amply clear myself of all your charges\nand show that there exists not the slightest ground for suspecting me\nof sorcery. Consider what confidence in my innocence and what contempt\nof you is implied by my conduct. If you can discover one trivial\nreason that might have led me to woo Pudentilla for the sake of some\npersonal advantage, if you can prove that I have made the very\nslightest profit out of my marriage, I am ready to be any magician you\nplease--the great Carmendas himself or Damigeron or Moses[28] of whom\nyou have heard, or Jannes or Apollobex or Dardanus himself or any\nsorcerer of note from the time of Zoroaster and Ostanes till now.\n\n[Footnote 28: _is Moses_ (Jan. Parrhasius).]\n\n91. See, Maximus, what a disturbance they have raised, merely because\nI have mentioned a few magicians by name. What am I to do with men so\nstupid and uncivilized? Shall I proceed to prove to you that I have\ncome across these names and many more in the course of my study of\ndistinguished authors in the public libraries? Or shall I argue that\nthe knowledge of the names of sorcerers is one thing, participation in\ntheir art another, and that it is not tantamount to confessing a crime\nto have one's brain well stored with learning and a memory retentive\nof its erudition? Or shall I take what is far the best course and,\nrelying on your learning, Maximus, and your perfect erudition, disdain\nto reply to the accusations of these stupid and uncultivated fellows?\nYes, that is what I will do. I will not care a straw for what they may\nthink. I will go on with the argument on which I had entered and will\nshow that I had no motive for seducing Pudentilla into marriage by the\nuse of love philtres.\n\nMy accusers have gone out of their way to make disparaging remarks\nboth about her age and her appearance; they have denounced me for\ndesiring such a wife from motives of greed and robbing her of her vast\nand magnificent dowry at the very outset of our wedded life. I do not\nintend to weary you, Maximus, with a long reply on these points. There\nis no need for words from me, our deeds of settlement will speak more\neloquently than I can do. From them you will see that both in my\nprovision for the future and in my action at the time my conduct was\nprecisely the opposite of that which they have attributed to me,\ninferring my rapacity from their own. You will see that Pudentilla's\ndowry was small, considering her wealth, and was made over to me as a\ntrust not as a gift, and moreover that the marriage only took place on\nthis condition that if my wife should die without leaving me any\nchildren, the dowry should go to her sons Pontianus and Pudens, while\nif at her death she should leave me one son or daughter, half of the\ndowry was to go to the offspring of the second marriage, the remainder\nto the sons of the first.\n\n92. This, as I say, I will prove from the actual deed of settlement.\nIt may be that Aemilianus will still refuse to believe that the total\nsum recorded is only 300,000 sesterces, and that the reversion of this\nsum is given by the settlement to Pudentilla's sons. Take the deeds\ninto your own hands, give them to Rufinus who incited you to this\naccusation. Let him read them, let him blush for his arrogant temper\nand his pretentious beggary. _He_ is poor and ill-clad and borrowed\n400,000 sesterces to dower his daughter, while Pudentilla, a woman of\nfortune, was content with 300,000, and her husband, who has often\nrefused the hand of the richest heiresses, is also content with this\ntrifling dowry, a mere nominal sum. He cares for nothing save his wife\nand counts the mutual love and harmony of his wedded life as his sole\ntreasure, his only wealth. Who that had the least experience of life,\nwould dare to pass any censure if a widow of inconsiderable beauty and\nconsiderable age, being desirous of marriage, had by the offer of a\nlarge dowry and easy conditions invited a young man, who, whether as\nregards appearance, character or wealth, was no despicable match, to\nbecome her husband? A beautiful maiden, even though she be poor, is\namply dowered. For she brings to her husband a fresh untainted spirit,\nthe charm of her beauty, the unblemished glory of her prime. The very\nfact that she is a maiden is rightly and deservedly regarded by all\nhusbands as the strongest recommendation. For whatever else you\nreceive as your wife's dowry you can, when it pleases you and if you\ndesire to feel yourself under no further obligation, repay in full\njust as you received it; you can count back the money, restore the\nslaves, leave the house, abandon the estates. Virginity only, once it\nhas been given, can never be repaid; it is the one portion of the\ndowry that remains irrevocably with the husband. A widow on the other\nhand, if divorced, leaves you as she came. She brings you nothing that\nshe cannot ask back, she has been another's and is certainly far from\ntractable to your wishes; she looks suspiciously on her new home,\nwhile you regard her with suspicion because she has already been\nparted from one husband: if it was by death she lost her husband, the\nevil omen of her ill-starred union minimizes her attractions, while,\nif she left him by divorce, she possesses one of two faults: either\nshe was so intolerable that she was divorced by her husband, or so\ninsolent as to divorce him. It is for reasons of this kind among\nothers that widows offer a larger dowry to attract suitors for their\nhands. Pudentilla would have done the same had she not found a\nphilosopher indifferent to her dowry.\n\n93. Consider. If I had desired her from motives of avarice, what could\nhave been more profitable to me in my attempt to make myself master in\nher house than the dissemination of strife between mother and sons,\nthe alienation of her children from her affections, so that I might\nhave unfettered and supreme control over her loneliness? Such would\nhave been, would it not, the action of the brigand you pretend me to\nbe. But as a matter of fact I did all I could to promote, to restore\nand foster quiet and harmony and family affection, and not only\nabstained from sowing fresh feuds, but utterly extinguished those\nalready in existence. I urged my wife--whose whole fortune according\nto my accusers I had by this time devoured--I urged her and finally\npersuaded her, when her sons demanded back the money of which I spoke\nabove, to pay over the whole sum at once in the shape of farms, at a\nlow valuation and at the price suggested by themselves, and further to\nsurrender from her own private property certain exceedingly fertile\nlands, a large house richly decorated, a great quantity of wheat,\nbarley, wine and oil, and other fruits of the earth, together with not\nless than four hundred slaves and a large number of valuable cattle.\nFinally I persuaded her to abandon all claims on the portion she had\ngiven them and to give them good hopes of one day coming into the rest\nof the property. All these concessions I extorted from Pudentilla with\ndifficulty and against her will--I have her leave to tell the whole\nstory as it happened--I wrung them from her by my urgent entreaty,\nthough she was angry and reluctant. I reconciled the mother with her\nsons, and began my career as a step-father by enriching my step-sons\nwith a large sum of money.\n\n94. All Oea was aware of this. Every one execrated Rufinus and\nextolled my conduct. Pontianus together with his very inferior brother\nhad come to visit us, before his mother had completed her donation. He\nfell at our feet and implored us to forgive and forget all his past\noffences; he wept, kissed our hands and expressed his penitence for\nlistening to Rufinus and others like him. He also most humbly begged\nme to make his excuses to the most honourable Lollianus Avitus to whom\nI had recommended him not long before when he was beginning the study\nof oratory. He had discovered that I had written to Avitus a few days\npreviously a full account of all that had happened. I granted him this\nrequest also and gave him a letter with which he set off to Carthage,\nwhere Lollianus Avitus, the term of his proconsulate having nearly\nexpired, was awaiting your arrival, Maximus. After reading my letters\nhe congratulated Pontianus with the exquisite courtesy which always\ncharacterizes him for having so soon rectified his error and entrusted\nhim with a reply. Ah! what learning! what wit! what grace and charm\ndwelt in that reply! Only a 'good man and an orator' could have\nwritten it. I know, Maximus, that you will readily give a hearing to\nthis letter. Indeed, if it is to be read, I will recite it myself.\nGive me Avitus' letter. That I should have received it has always\nflattered me. To-day it shall do more than flatter, it shall save me!\nYou may let the water-clock continue, for I would gladly read and\nre-read the letter of that excellent man to the third and fourth time\nat the cost of any amount of the time allowed me. (_The letter is\nread._)\n\n95. I know that after reading this letter I should bring my speech to\na close. For what ampler commendation, what purer testimony could I\nproduce in my support, what more eloquent advocacy? I have in the\ncourse of my life listened with rapt attention to many eloquent\nRomans, but never have I admired any so much as Avitus. There is in my\nopinion no one living of any attainments or promise in oratory who\nwould not far sooner be Avitus, if he compare him with himself\nimpartially and without envy. For practically all the different\nexcellencies of oratory are united in him. Whatever speech Avitus\ncomposes will be found so absolutely perfect and complete in all\nrespects that it would satisfy Cato by its dignity, Laelius with its\nsmoothness, Gracchus with its energy, Caesar with its warmth,\nHortensius with its arrangement, Calvus with its point, Sallust with\nits economy and Cicero with its wealth of rhetoric. In fact, not to go\nthrough all his merits, if you were to hear Avitus, you would wish\nnothing added, withdrawn or altered of anything that he says.\n\nI see, Maximus, with what pleasure you listen to the recital of the\nvirtues which you recognize your friend Avitus to possess. Your\ncourtesy invited me to say a few words about him. But I will not\ntrespass on your kindness so far as to permit myself to commence a\ndiscourse on his extraordinary virtues at this period of the case. It\nis wearing to its end and my powers are almost exhausted. I will\nrather reserve the praise of Avitus' virtues for some day when my time\nis free and my powers unimpaired.\n\n96. _Now_, I grieve to say, it is my duty to turn from the description\nof so great a man to discuss these pestilent fellows here.\n\nDo you dare then, Aemilianus, to match yourself against Avitus? Will\nyou attack with accusations of magic and the black art him whom Avitus\ndescribes as a good man, and whose disposition he praises so warmly in\nhis letter? Or have you greater reason to be vexed at my forcing my\nway into Pudentilla's house and pillaging her goods than Pontianus\nwould have had, Pontianus, who not only in my presence but even before\nAvitus in my absence, made amends for the strife of a few days that\nhad sprung up between us at your instigation, and expressed his\ngratitude to me in the presence of so great a man? Suppose I had read\na report of what took place in Avitus' presence instead of reading\nmerely his letter. What is there in the whole affair that could give\nyou or any one else[29] a handle for accusing me? Pontianus himself\nconsidered himself in my debt for the money given him by his mother;\nPontianus rejoiced with the utmost sincerity in his good fortune in\nhaving me for his step-father. Ah! would that he had returned from\nCarthage safe and sound! or since it was not fated that that should\nbe, would that you, Rufinus, had not poisoned his judgement at the\nlast! What gratitude he would have expressed to me either personally\nor in his will! However, as things are, I beg you, Maximus,--it will\nnot take long--to allow the reading of these letters full of\nexpressions of respect and affection for myself, which he sent me,\nsome of them from Carthage, some as he drew near on his homeward\njourney, some written while he still enjoyed his health, and some when\nthe sickness was already upon him. Thus his brother, my accuser, will\nrealize with what[30] lack of success he pursues his literary studies\ncompared with his brother of blessed memory. (_Pontianus' letters are\nread._)\n\n[Footnote 29: _quas vel tu vel quisquis_ (Van der Vliet). There is no\ndoubt as to the sense required: the precise correction must remain\ndoubtful.]\n\n[Footnote 30: _quam in omnibus minor Minervae_ (H.E.B.).]\n\n97. Did you hear the phrases which your brother Pontianus used in\nspeaking of me? He called me his father, his master, his instructor\nnot only on various occasions in his lifetime but actually on his\ndeathbed. I might follow this[31] by producing similar letters from\nyou, if I thought that the delay thus caused would be worth while. But\nI should prefer to produce your brother's recent will, unfinished\nthough it may be, in which he made most dutiful and respectful mention\nof myself. But Rufinus never allowed this will to be drawn up or\ncompleted owing to his chagrin at the loss of the inheritance which he\nhad regarded in the light of a rich payment[32] for his daughter's\nembraces during the few months in which he was Pontianus'\nfather-in-law. He had further consulted certain Chaldean soothsayers\nas to what profit his daughter, whom he regarded in the light of an\ninvestment, would bring him in. They, I am told, prophesied\ntruly--would they had not--that her first husband would die in a few\nmonths. The rest of the prophecy dealing with the inheritance was as\nusual fabricated to suit the desires of their client. But Rufinus\ngaped for his prey in vain like a wild beast that has gone blind. For\nPontianus not only did not leave Rufinus' daughter as his heir--he\nhad discovered her evil character--but he did not even make her a\nrespectable legacy. He left her by way of insult linen to the value of\n200 denarii, to show that he had not forgotten or ignored her, but\nthat he set this value on her as an expression of his resentment. As\nhis heirs--in this just as in the former will which has been read\naloud--he appointed his mother and his brother, against whom, mere boy\nas he is, Rufinus is, as you see, bringing his old artillery into\nplay: I refer to his daughter. He thrusts her upon his embraces\nalthough she is considerably his elder and but a brief while ago was\nhis brother's wife.\n\n[Footnote 31: _post quae_ (Beyte).]\n\n[Footnote 32: Omitting Helm's insertion of _praemium_ after _quam_.]\n\n98. Pudens was so captivated and possessed by the charms of that\nharlot and by the beguiling words of the pander, her father, that the\nmoment his brother had breathed his last, he left his mother and\nmigrated to his uncle's house. The design was to facilitate the\ncarrying out of the schemes already afoot by removing him from our\ninfluence. For Aemilianus is backing Rufinus and desires his success.\n(_A movement among the audience._) Ah! Thank you! You rightly remind\nme that this excellent uncle has hopes of his own mixed up in this\naffair, for he knows that if this boy dies intestate he will be his\nheir-at-law, whatever he may be in point of equity. I wish I had not\nlet this slip. I am a man of great self-control and it is not my way\nto blurt out openly the silent suspicions that must have occurred to\nevery one. You did wrong in suggesting this point to me. But to be\nfrank, if you will have the truth, many have been wondering at the\nsudden affection which you, Aemilianus, have begun to show for this\nboy since the death of his brother Pontianus, whereas formerly you\nwere such a stranger to him that frequently, even when you met him,\nyou failed to recognize the face of your brother's son. But now you\nshow yourself so patient towards him, you so spoil him by your\nindulgence and grant his every whim to such an extent that your\nconduct makes the more suspicious think their suspicions well\ngrounded. You took him from us a mere boy and straightway gave him the\ngarb of manhood. While he was under our guardianship, he used to go to\nschool: now he has bidden a long farewell to study and betaken himself\nto the delights of the tavern. He despises serious friends, and, boy\nas he is, spends his tender years in revelling with the most abandoned\nyouths among harlots and wine-cups. He rules your house, orders your\nslaves, directs your banquets. He is a frequent visitor to the\ngladiatorial school and there--as a boy of position should!--he learns\nfrom the keeper of the school the names of the gladiators, the fights\nthey have fought, the wounds they have received. He never speaks any\nlanguage save Punic, and though he may occasionally use a Greek word\npicked up from his mother, he neither will nor can speak Latin. You\nheard, Maximus, a little while ago, you heard my step-son--oh! the\nshame of it!--the brother of that eloquent young fellow Pontianus,\nhardly able to stammer out single syllables, when you asked him\nwhether his mother had given himself and his brother the gifts which,\nas I told you just now, she actually gave them with my hearty support.\n\n99. I call you, therefore, Claudius Maximus, and you, gentlemen, his\nassessors, and you that with me stand before this tribunal, to bear\nwitness that this boy's disgraceful falling away in morals is due to\nhis uncle here and that candidate for the privilege of becoming his\nfather-in-law, and that I shall henceforth count it a blessing that\nsuch a step-son has lifted the burden of superintending him from my\nshoulders, and that from this day forth I will never intercede for him\nwith his mother. For recently--I had almost forgotten to mention\nit--when Pudentilla, who had fallen ill after the death of her son\nPontianus, was writing her will, I had a prolonged struggle to prevent\nher disinheriting this boy on account of the outrageous insult and\ninjury he had inflicted on her. I prayed her with the utmost\nearnestness to erase that most important clause, which, I can assure\nyou, she had already written, every word of it! Finally, I even\nthreatened to leave her, if she refused to accede to my request, and\nbegged her to grant me this boon, to conquer her wicked son by\nkindness, and to save me from all the ill feeling which her action\nwould create. I did not desist till she complied. I regret that I\nshould have smoothed Aemilianus' way for him and showed him such an\nunexpected path[33] to wealth. Look, Maximus, see how confused he is\nat hearing this, see how he casts his eyes upon the ground. He had\nnot unnaturally expected something very different. He knew that my\nwife was angry with her son on account of his insolent behaviour and\nthat she returned my devotion. He had reason also for fear in regard\nto myself; for any one else, even if like myself he had been above\ncoveting the inheritance, would gladly have seen so undutiful a\nstep-son punished. It was this anxiety above all others that spurred\nthem on to accuse me. Their own avarice led them falsely to conjecture\nthat the whole inheritance had been left to me. As far as the past is\nconcerned, I will dispel your fears on that point. I was proof against\nthe temptation both of enriching myself and of revenging myself. I--a\nstep-father, mind you--contended for my wicked step-son with his\nmother, as a father might contend against a stepmother in the\ninterests of a virtuous son; nor did I rest satisfied till, with a\nperfectly extravagant sense of fairness, I had restrained my good\nwife's lavish generosity towards myself.\n\n[Footnote 33: _semitam_ (codd. inferiores).]\n\n100. Give me the will which was made in the interests of so unfilial a\nson by his mother. Each word of it was preceded by an entreaty from\nmyself, whom my accusers speak of as a mere robber. Order the tablets\nto be broken open, Maximus. You will find that her son is the heir,\nthat I get nothing save some trifling complimentary legacy inserted to\navoid the non-appearance of my name, the husband's name, mark you, in\nmy wife's will, supposing she succumbed to any of the ills to which\nthis flesh is heir. Take up your mother's will. You are right, in one\nrespect it is undutiful. She excludes her devoted husband from the\ninheritance in favour of her most unfilial son? Nay, it is not her son\nto whom she leaves her fortune; she leaves it rather to the greedy\nAemilianus and the matchmaking Rufinus and that drunken gang, that\nhang about you and prey upon you. Take it, O best of sons! Lay aside\nyour mother's love-letters for a while and read her will instead. If\nshe ever wrote anything while not in her right mind, you will find it\nhere, nor will you have to go far to find it. 'Let Sicinius Pudens, my\nson, be my heir.' I admit it! he who reads this, will think it\ninsanity. Is this same son your heir, who at his own brother's funeral\nattempted with the help of a gang of the most abandoned youths to shut\nyou out of the house which you yourself had given him, who is so\ndeeply and bitterly incensed to find that his brother left you co-heir\nwith himself, who hastened to desert you when you were plunged in\ngrief and mourning, and fled from your bosom to Aemilianus and\nRufinus, who afterwards uttered many insults against you to your face,\nand manufactured others with the help of his uncle, who has dragged\nyour name through the law-courts, has attempted by using your own\nletters publicly to besmirch your fair fame, and has accused upon a\ncapital charge the husband of your choice, with whom, as Pudens\nhimself objected, you were madly in love! Open the will, my good boy,\nopen it, I beg you. You will find it easier then to prove your\nmother's insanity.\n\nWhy do you draw back? Why do you refuse to look at it, now that you\nare free from all anxiety about the inheritance of your mother's\nfortune?\n\n101. He may do as he likes, Maximus, but for my part I cast these\ntablets at your feet and call you to witness that henceforth I shall\nshow greater indifference as to what Pudentilla may write in her will.\nHe may approach his mother himself for the future; he has made it\nimpossible for me to plead for him again. He is now a man and his own\nmaster; henceforth let him himself dictate to his mother the terms[34]\nof an unpalatable will, himself smooth away her anger. He who can\nplead in court, will be able to plead with his mother. I am more than\nsatisfied not only to have refuted the miscellaneous accusations\nbrought against myself, but also to have utterly swept away the\nhateful charge on which the whole trial is based, the charge of having\nattempted to secure the inheritance for myself.\n\n[Footnote 34: Omit _qui_ inserted by Helm after _ut_.]\n\nI will bring one final proof to show the falsity of that last charge\nbefore I bring my speech to a close. I wish to pass nothing over in\nsilence. You asserted that I bought a most excellent farm in my own\nname, but with a large sum of money which belonged to my wife. I say\nthat a tiny property was bought for 60,000 sesterces, and bought not\nby me but by Pudentilla in her own name, that Pudentilla's name is in\nthe deed of sale, and that the taxes paid on the land are paid in the\nname of Pudentilla. The honourable Corvinus Celer, the state treasurer\nto whom the tax is paid, is here in court. Cassius Longinus also is\npresent, my wife's guardian and trustee, a man of the loftiest and\nmost irreproachable character. I cannot speak of him save with the\ndeepest respect. Ask him, Maximus, what was the purchase which he\nauthorized, and what was the trifling sum for which this wealthy lady\nbought her little estate. (_Cassius Longinus and Corvinus Celer give\nevidence._)\n\nIs it as I said? Is my name ever mentioned in the deed of sale? Is the\nprice paid for this trifling property such as should excite any\nprejudice against me, or did my wife give me even so much as this\nsmall gift?\n\n102. What is there left, Aemilianus, that in your opinion I have\nfailed to refute? What had I to gain by my magic that should lead me\nto attempt to win Pudentilla by love-philtres? What had I to gain from\nher? A small dowry instead of a large one? Truly my incantations were\nmiraculous. That she should refund her dowry to her sons rather than\nleave it in my possession? What magic can surpass this? That she\nshould at my exhortation present the bulk of her property to her sons\nand leave me nothing, although before her marriage with myself she had\nshown them no special generosity? What a criminal use of\nlove-philtres! or perhaps I had better call it a generous action which\nhas not received its deserts! By her will, which she drew up in a fit\nof violent irritation against her son, she leaves as her heir that\nsame son with whom she had quarrelled, rather than myself to whom she\nwas devoted! For all my incantations it was only with difficulty that\nI persuaded her to this. Suppose that you were pleading your case, not\nbefore Claudius Maximus, a man of the utmost fairness and unswerving\njustice, but before a judge of depraved morals and of ferocious\ntemper, one in fact who naturally inclined to the side of the accuser\nand was only too ready to condemn the accused! Give him some hint to\nfollow! Give him even the slightest reasonable opportunity for\ndeclaring in your favour! At least invent something, devise some\nsuitable reply to questions such as have been put to you. Nay, since\nevery action must necessarily have some motive, answer me this, you\nwho say that Apuleius tried to influence Pudentilla's heart by magical\ncharms, answer me this! What did he seek to get from her by so doing?\nWas he in love with her beauty? You say not! Did he covet her wealth?\nThe evidence of the marriage settlement denies it, the evidence of the\ndeed of gift denies it, the evidence of the will denies it! It shows\nnot only that I did not court the generosity of my wife, but that I\neven repulsed it with some severity. What other motives can you\nallege? Why are you struck dumb? Why this silence? What has become of\nthat ferocious utterance with which you opened the indictment, couched\nin the name of my step-son? 'This is the man, most excellent Maximus,\nwhom I have resolved to indict before you.'\n\n103. Why did you not add 'He whom I indict is my teacher, my\nstep-father, my mediator'? But how did you proceed? 'He is guilty of\nthe most palpable and numerous sorceries.' Produce one of these many\nsorceries or at least some doubtful instance from those which you\nstyle so palpable. Nay, see whether I cannot reply to your various\ncharges with two words to each. 'You clean your teeth.' Excusable\ncleanliness. 'You look into mirrors.' Philosophers should. 'You write\nverse.' 'Tis permitted. 'You examine fish.' Following Aristotle. 'You\nworship a piece of wood.' So Plato. 'You marry a wife.' Obeying law.\n'She is older than you.' Nothing commoner. 'You married for money.'\nTake the marriage-settlement, remember the deed of gift, read the\nwill!\n\nIf I have rebutted all their charges, word by word, if I have refuted\nall their slanders, if I am beyond reproach, not only as regards their\naccusations but also as regards their vulgar abuse, if I have done\nnothing to impair the honour of philosophy, which is dearer to me than\nmy own safety, but on the contrary have smitten my adversary hip and\nthigh and vanquished him at all points, if all my contentions are\ntrue, I can await your estimate of my character with the same\nconfidence with which I await the exercise of your power; for I regard\nit as less serious and less terrible to be condemned by the proconsul\nthan to incur the disapproval of so good and so perfect a man.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FLORIDA\n\n\n_The exordium to a discourse delivered in a town through which\nApuleius passes in the course of a journey._\n\n1. It is the usual practice of wayfarers with a religious disposition,\nwhen they come upon a sacred grove or holy place by the roadside, to\nutter a prayer, to offer an apple, and pause for a moment from their\njourneying. So I, on entering the revered walls of your city, feel\nthat, for all my haste, it is my duty to ask your favour, to make an\naddress, and to break the speed of my journey. I cannot conceive aught\nthat could give a traveller juster cause to halt in sign of reverence;\nno altar crowned with flowers, no grotto shadowed with foliage,[35] no\noak bedecked with horns, no beech garlanded with the skins of beasts,\nno mound whose engirdling hedge proclaims its sanctity, no tree-trunk\nhewn into the semblance of a god, no turf still wet with libations, no\nstone astream with precious unguents. For these are but small things,\nand though there be a few that seek them out and do them worship, the\nmajority note them not and pass them by.\n\n[Footnote 35: _frondibus_, cod. Florent. 29. 2 man. primi\ncorrectoris.]\n\n\n_Man's sight compared with that of the eagle._\n\n2. But such was not the opinion of my master Socrates. For once when\nhe saw a youth of handsome appearance who remained for a long time\nwithout uttering a syllable, he said to him, 'Say something, that I\nmay see what you are like.' For Socrates felt that a man who spoke not\nat all was in a sense invisible, since he held that it was not with\nthe bodily vision, but with the mind's eye and the sight of the soul\nthat men should be regarded. In this he disagreed with the soldier in\nPlautus, who says,\n\n     _One man that has eyes is better by far as a witness than\n     ten that have ears._\n\nIndeed, for the purpose of examining men he had practically reversed\nthe meaning of the line to\n\n     _One man that has ears is better by far as a witness than\n     ten that have eyes._\n\nMoreover, if the judgements of the eye were of greater value than\nthose of the soul, we should assuredly have to yield the palm for\nwisdom to the eagle. For we men cannot see things far removed from us\nnor yet things that are very near us, but all of us to a certain\nextent are blind. And if you confine us to the eyes alone with their\ndim earthly vision, the words of the great poet will be very true,\nthat a cloud as it were is shed upon our eyes and we cannot see beyond\na stone's cast. The eagle, on the other hand, soars exceeding high in\nheaven to the very clouds, and rides on his pinions through all that\nspace where there is rain and snow, regions beyond whose heights\nthunderbolts and lightnings have no place, even to the very floor of\nheaven and the topmost verge of the storms of earth. And having\ntowered thus high, with gentle motion he turns his great body to glide\nto left or right, directing his wings, that are as sails, whither he\nwill by the movement of his tail, which, small though it be, serves as\na rudder. Thence he gazes down on the world, staying awhile in that\nfar height[36] the ceaseless oarage of his wings and, poised almost\nmotionless with hovering flight, looks all around him and seeks what\nprey he shall choose whereon to swoop[37] sudden like a thunderbolt\nfrom heaven on high. In one glance he sees all cattle in the field,\nall beasts upon the mountains, all men in their cities, all threatened\nat once by his intended swoop, and thence he falls to pierce with his\nbeak and clutch with his claws the unsuspecting lamb, the timid hare,\nor whatsoever living creature chance offers to his hunger or his\ntalons.\n\n[Footnote 36: _inhibens_ (Heinsius) _pinnarum eminus_ (MSS.).]\n\n[Footnote 37: _fulminis vicem de caelo improvisa, simul._ Van der\nVliet places a comma after _vicem_ and gives none after _improvisa_.]\n\n\n_The story of Marsyas and his challenge to Apollo._\n\n3. Hyagnis, according to tradition, was the father and instructor of\nthe piper Marsyas, and skilled in song beyond all others in the years\nwhen music was still in its infancy. It is true that as yet the sound\nof his breath lacked the finer modulations; he knew but a few simple\nmodes and his pipe had but few stops. For the art was but newly born\nand only just beginning to grow. There is nothing that can attain\nperfection in its first beginnings; everything must commence by\nmastering the elements in hope, ere it can attain experience and\nsuccess. Well, then, before Hyagnis the majority of musicians could do\nno more than the shepherds or cowherds of Vergil who\n\n     _Made sorry strains on pipes of scrannel straw._\n\nIf any of them seemed to have made some real advance in art, even he\nplayed only on one pipe or one trumpet. Hyagnis was the first to\nseparate his hands when he played, the first to fill two pipes with\none breath, the first to finger stops with either hand and make sweet\nharmony of shrill treble and booming bass. Marsyas was his son, and\nthough he possessed his father's skill upon the pipe, he was in all\nelse a barbarous Phrygian, with a filthy beard and the grim and shaggy\nface of a wild beast. All his body was covered with hair and bristles,\nand yet--good heavens! he is said to have striven for mastery with\nApollo. 'Twas hideousness contending with beauty, a rude boor against\na sage, a beast against a god. The Muses and Minerva, hiding their\namusement, stood by to judge, that they might make a mockery of the\nmonster's uncouth presumption and punish his stupidity. But Marsyas,\nlike the peerless fool he was, never perceived that he was an object\nof ridicule, and before he began to blow upon his pipes stammered out\nin his barbarous jargon some insane boasts about himself and Apollo.\nHe prided himself on the mane thrown back from his brow, on his\nunkempt beard, his shaggy breast, his skill upon the pipes and his\nlack of wealth. By contrast--oh the absurdity of it!--he blamed Apollo\nfor the opposite of these qualities, for being Apollo, for wearing his\nhair long, for having a fair face and smooth body, for his skill in so\nmany arts, and for the opulence of his fortune. 'In the first place,'\nhe said, 'his hair is smoothed and plastered into tufts and curls that\nfall about his brow and hang before his face. His body is fair from\nhead to foot, his limbs shine bright, his tongue gives oracles, and he\nis equally eloquent in prose or verse, propose which you will. What of\nhis robes so fine in texture, so soft to the touch, aglow with purple?\nWhat of his lyre that flashes gold, gleams white with ivory, and\nshimmers with rainbow gems? What of his song, so cunning and so sweet?\nNay, all these allurements suit with naught save luxury. To virtue\nthey bring shame alone!' And then he proceeded to display his own body\nas the model of perfection. The Muses laughed when they heard him\ndenounce Apollo for possessing gifts such as the wise would pray to\npossess, and when this boastful piper had been defeated in the contest\nand had been skinned as though he were a two-footed bear, they left\nhim with his entrails torn and exposed to the air. Thus did Marsyas\nsing for his own undoing, and such was his fall. As for Apollo he was\nashamed of so inglorious a victory.\n\n\n_The piper Antigenidas._\n\n4. There was a certain piper named Antigenidas, whose every note made\nhoneyed harmony. He had skill, too, to make music in every mode,\nchoose which you would, the simple Aeolian or the complex Ionian, the\nmournful Lydian, the solemn Phrygian, or the warlike Dorian. Being\ntherefore the most famous of all that played upon the pipe, he said\nthat nothing so tormented him, nothing so vexed his heart and soul, as\nthe fact that the musicians who played the trumpet at funerals were\ndignified by the name of pipers. But he would have endured this\nidentity of names with equanimity, had he ever seen the performance of\nmimes; for he would have noted that the magistrates, who preside in\nthe theatre, and the characters on the stage, who come in for a good\ncudgelling, are clad in practically the same purple garments. So too,\nhad he ever watched our games! For he would have seen one presiding,\nanother fighting, yet both of them sharing the same common humanity.\nHe would have noted that the Roman toga is worn alike by him who\nperforms a vow to heaven and by him that lies dead upon the bier, that\nthe Grecian pallium serves to shroud the dead no less than to clothe\nthe philosopher.\n\n\n_Fragment from the opening of a discourse delivered in a theatre._\n\n5. You have, I feel assured, come to this theatre with the best will\nin the world. For you know that the importance of an oration does not\ndepend on the place in which it is delivered, but that the first thing\nthat has to be considered is, 'What form of entertainment is the\ntheatre going to provide?' If it is a mime, you will laugh; if a\nrope-walker, you will tremble lest he fall; if a comedian, you will\napplaud him, while, if it be a philosopher, you will learn from him.\n\n\n_India and the Gymnosophists._\n\n6. India is a populous country of enormous extent. It lies far to the\neast of us, close to the point where ocean turns back upon himself and\nthe sun rises, on that verge where meet the last of lands and the\nfirst stars of heaven. Far away it lies, beyond the learned Egyptians,\nbeyond the superstitious Jews and the merchants of Nabataea, beyond\nthe children of Arsaces in their long flowing robes, the Ityreans, to\nwhom earth gives but scanty harvest, and the Arabs, whose perfumes are\ntheir wealth. Wherefore I marvel not so much at the great stores of\nivory possessed by these Indians, their harvests of pepper, their\nexports of cinnamon, their finely-tempered steel, their mines of\nsilver and their rivers of gold. I marvel not so much that in the\nGanges they have the greatest of all rivers which\n\n     _Lord of all the waters of the East\n     Is cloven and parted in a hundred streams.\n     A hundred vales are his, a hundred mouths,\n     And hundred-fold the flood that meets the main_;\n\nnor wonder I that the Indians that dwell at the very portals of day\nare yet of the hue of night, nor that in their land vast serpents\nengage in combat with huge elephants, to the equal danger and the\ncommon destruction of either; for they envelop and bind their prey in\nslippery coils so that they cannot disengage their feet nor in any\nwise break the scaly fetters of these clinging snakes, but must needs\nfind vengeance by hurling their vast bulk to the ground and crushing\nthe foe that grips them by the weight of their whole bodies. But it is\nof the marvels of men rather than of nature that I would speak.[38]\nFor the dwellers in this land are divided into many castes. There is\none whose sole skill lies in tending herds of oxen, whence they are\nknown as the oxherds. There are others who are cunning in the barter\nof merchandise, others who are sturdy warriors in battle and have\nskill to fight at long range with arrows or hand to hand with swords.\nThere is, further, one caste that is especially remarkable. They are\ncalled gymnosophists. At these I marvel most of all. For they are\nskilled--not in growing the vine, or grafting fruit-trees, or\nploughing the soil. They know not how to till the fields, or wash\ngold, or break horses, or tame bulls, or to clip or feed sheep or\ngoats. What, then, is their claim to distinction? This: one thing they\nknow outweighing all they know not. They honour wisdom one and all,\nthe old that teach and the young that learn. Nor is there aught I more\ncommend in them than that they hate that their minds should be\nsluggish and idle. And so, when the table is set in its place, before\nthe viands are served, all the youths leave their homes and\nprofessions to flock to the banquet. The masters ask each one of them\nwhat good deed he has performed between the rising of the sun and the\npresent hour. Thereupon one tells how he has been chosen as arbiter\nbetween two of his fellows, has healed their quarrel, reconciled their\nstrife, dispelled their suspicions and made them friends instead of\nfoes. Another tells how he has obeyed some command of his parents,\nanother relates some discovery that his meditations have brought him\nor some new knowledge won from another's exposition. And so with the\nrest of them,[39] they tell their story. He who can give no good\nreason for joining in the feast is thrust fasting from the doors to go\nto his work.\n\n[Footnote 38: _libentius ego_ (MSS.).]\n\n[Footnote 39: _denique ceteri commemorant_ (MSS.).]\n\n\n_On Alexander and false philosophers._\n\n7. The famous Alexander, by far the noblest of all kings, won the\ntitle of the Great from the deeds that he had done and the empire he\nhad built, and thus it was secured that the man who had won glory\nwithout peer should never be so much as named without a word of\npraise. For he alone since time began, alone of all whereof man's\nmemory bears record, after he had conquered a world-wide empire such\nas none may ever surpass, proved himself greater than his fortune. By\nhis energy he challenged the most glorious successes that fortune\ncould bestow, equalled them by his worth, surpassed them by his\nvirtues, and stood alone in peerless glory, so that none might dare\neven hope for such virtue or pray for such fortune. The life of this\nAlexander is marked by so many lofty deeds and glorious acts, be it of\nprowess in the battle or statecraft in the council chamber, that you\nmay marvel at them till you are weary. It is the story of all these\ngreat achievements that my friend Clemens, most learned and sweetest\nof poets, has attempted to glorify in the exquisite strains of his\nverse.\n\nNow among the most remarkable acts recorded of Alexander is this.\nDesiring that his likeness should be handed down to posterity with as\nlittle variation as possible, he refused to permit it to be profaned\nby a multitude of artists, and issued a proclamation to all the world\nover which he ruled that no one should rashly counterfeit the king's\nlikeness in bronze or with the painter's colours, or with the\nsculptor's chisel. Only Polycletus might portray him in bronze, only\nApelles depict him in colour, only Pyrgoteles carve his form with the\nengraver's chisel. If any other than these three, each supreme in his\npeculiar art, should be discovered to have set his hand to reproduce\nthe sacred image of the king, he should be punished as severely as\nthough he had committed sacrilege. This order struck such fear into\nall men that Alexander alone of mankind was always like his portraits,\nand that every statue, painting, or bronze revealed the same fierce\nmartial vigour, the same great and glorious genius, the same fresh and\nyouthful beauty, the same fair forehead with its back-streaming hair.\nAnd would that philosophy could issue a like proclamation that should\nhave equal weight, forbidding unauthorized persons to reproduce her\nlikeness; then the study and contemplation of wisdom in all her\naspects would be in the hands of a few good craftsmen who had been\ncarefully trained, and unlettered fellows of base life and little\nlearning would ape the philosopher no longer (though their imitation\ndoes not go beyond the professor's gown), and the queen of all\nstudies, whose aim is no less excellence of speech than excellence of\nlife, would no longer be profaned by evil speech and evil living: and,\nmark you, profanation of either kind is far from hard. What is more\nreadily come by than madness of speech and worthlessness of character?\nThe former springs from contempt of others, the latter from contempt\nof self. For to show little care for one's own character is\nself-contempt, while to attack others with uncouth and savage speech\nis an insult to those that hear you. For is it not the height of\ninsolence, think you, that a man should deem you to rejoice in hearing\nabuse of the best of men, and should believe that you do not\nunderstand evil and wicked words, or, if you do understand them, hold\nthem to be good? What boor, what porter, what taverner is so poor of\nspeech that could not curse more eloquently than these folk, if he\nwould consent to assume the professor's gown?\n\n\n_A eulogy of the proconsul of Africa._\n\n8. He owes more to his personal character than to his rank, although\neven his rank is one that is shared by few. For out of numberless\nmultitudes of men not many are senators, of senators but few are of\nnoble birth, of the noble but few attain to the rank of consul, of\nconsuls but few are good, and of the good but few are learned. But to\nconfine what I have to say to his high office, 'tis not lightly that\nany man may assume the insignia of his rank either as regards clothing\nor foot-gear.\n\n\n_A defence of himself against his critics and a laudation of the\nproconsul Severianus._\n\n9. If it should so chance that in this magnificent gathering there\nshould sit any of those that envy or hate me, since in a great city\npersons may always be found who prefer to abuse rather than imitate\npersons better than themselves, and, since they cannot be like them,\naffect to hate them. They do this of course in order to illumine the\nobscurity that shrouds their own names by the splendour that falls\nfrom mine; if then, I say, any one of these envious persons sullies\nthis distinguished audience with the stain of his presence, I would\nask him for a moment to cast his eyes round this incredibly vast\nconcourse. When he has contemplated a throng such as before my day\nnever yet gathered to listen to a philosopher, let him consider in his\nheart how great a risk to his reputation is undertaken by a man who is\nnot used to contempt in appearing here to-day; for it is an arduous\ntask, and far from easy of accomplishment, to satisfy even the\nmoderate expectations of a few. Above all it is difficult for me, for\nthe fame I have already won and your own kindly anticipation of my\nskill will not permit me to deliver any ill-considered or superficial\nutterance. For what man among you would pardon me one solecism or\ncondone the barbarous pronunciation of so much as one syllable? Who of\nyou will suffer me to stammer in disorderly and faulty phrases such as\nmight rise to the lips of madmen? In others of course you would pardon\nsuch lapses, and very rightly so. But you subject every word that _I_\nutter to the closest examination, you weigh it carefully, you try it\nby the plumb-line and the file, you test it by the polish of the lathe\nand the sublimity of the tragic buskin. Such is the indulgence\naccorded to mediocrity, such the severity meted out to distinction. I\nrecognize, therefore, the difficulty of the task that lies before me,\nand I do not ask you to alter the opinions you entertain of me. Yet I\nwould not have you deceived by false and petty resemblances, for, as I\nhave often said, there are certain strolling beggars who assume a\nprofessor's gown to win their livelihood. Not only the proconsul, but\nthe town crier also ascends the tribunal and appears wearing the toga\nlike his master. But the crier stands upon his feet for hours\ntogether, or strides to and fro, or bawls his news with all the\nstrength of his lungs. The proconsul, on the contrary, speaks quietly\nand with frequent pauses, sits while he speaks, and often reads from a\nwritten document. This is only natural. For the garrulous voice of the\ncrier is the voice of a hired servant, the words read by the\nproconsul from a written document constitute a judgement, which, once\nread, may not have one letter added to it or taken away, but so soon\nas it is delivered, is set down in the provincial records. My literary\nposition will provide a humble analogy. All that I utter before you is\nforthwith taken down and read. I can withdraw or change nothing, nor\nmake the least correction. I must therefore be all the more careful in\nwhat I say before you, and that too with regard to more than one form\nof composition. For there is greater variety in the works of my muse\nthan in all the elaborate achievements of Hippias. If you will give me\nyour best attention I will explain what I mean with greater detail and\nprecision.\n\nHippias was one of the sophists, and surpassed all his fellows in the\nvariety of his accomplishments, while as an orator he was second to\nnone. He was a contemporary of Socrates, and a native of Elis. Of his\nfamily nothing is known. But his fame was great, his fortune moderate;\nmoreover he had a noble wk and an extraordinary memory, pursued many\nbranches of study, and had many rivals. This Hippias, of whom I speak,\nonce came to Pisa during the Olympian games arrayed in raiment that\nwas as remarkable to the eye as it was wonderful in its workmanship.\nFor he had purchased nothing of what he wore: it was all the work of\nhis own hands, the clothes in which he was clad, the shoes wherewith\nhe was shod, and the jewels that made him conspicuous. Next his skin\nhe wore an undershirt of triple weft and the finest texture, double\ndyed with purple. He had woven it for himself in his own house with\nhis own hands. He had for girdle a belt, broidered in Babylonian\nfashion with many varied colours. In this also no man else had helped\nhim. For outer garment he had a white cloak cast about his shoulders;\nthis cloak also is known to have been the work of his own hands. He\nhad fashioned even the shoes that covered his feet and the ring of\ngold with its cunningly engraved signet which he displayed on his left\nhand. Himself he had wrought the circle of gold, had closed the bezel\naround the gem and engraved the stone. I have not yet told you all the\ntale of his achievements. But I will not shrink from enumerating all\nthe marvels that he thought it no shame to show. For he proclaimed\nbefore that vast concourse that his own hands had fashioned the\noil-flask which he carried. It was in shape a flattened sphere, and\nits outlines were round and smooth. Beside it he showed an exquisite\nflesh-scraper, the handle[40] of which was straight, while the tongue\nwas curved and grooved with hollow channels, so that the hand might\nhave a firm grip and the sweat might be carried off in a trickling\nstream from the blade. Who could withhold praise from a man who had\nsuch manifold knowledge of so many arts, who had won such glory in\nevery branch of knowledge, who was, in fact, a very Daedalus,[41] such\nskill had he to fashion so many useful instruments? Nay, I myself\npraise Hippias, but I prefer to imitate his fertile genius in respect\nof the learning, rather than of the furniture with which it was so\nrichly equipped. I have, I confess, but indifferent skill in these\nsedentary arts. When I want clothes I buy them from the weaver, when I\nwant sandals, such as I am now wearing, I purchase them from the\nshoemaker. I do not carry a ring, since I regard gold and precious\nstones of as little value as pebbles or lead. As for flesh-scrapers\nand oil-flasks and other utensils of the bath I procure them in the\nmarket. I will not go to the extent of denying that I am wholly\nignorant how to use a shuttle, an awl, a file, a lathe, and other\ntools of the kind, but I confess that I infinitely prefer to all these\ninstruments one simple pen, with which I may write poems of all kinds,\nsuch as may suit with the reciter's wand and the accompaniment of the\nlyre or grace the comic or the tragic stage. Satires also do I write\nand riddles, histories also on diverse themes, speeches that the\neloquent and dialogues that philosophers have praised. Nay, and I\nwrite all these and much besides with equal fluency in Greek and\nLatin, with equal pleasure, like ardour and uniform skill. Most\nexcellent proconsul, I would I could offer all these works of mine not\nin fragments and quotations but in entirety and completeness! Would I\nmight enjoy the priceless boon of your testimony to the merits of all\nthe offspring of my muse! It is not that I lack praise, for my glory\nhas long bloomed fresh and bright before the eyes of all your\npredecessors, till to-day it is presented to you! But there is none\nwhose admiration I would more gladly win than yours, for I admire you\nbeyond all other men by reason of your surpassing virtues. Such is the\nordinance of nature. Praise implies love and, love once given to\nanother, we demand his praise in return. And I acknowledge that I love\nyou; no private tie of interest binds me to you, it is in your public\ncapacity that you have won my devotion. I have never received any\nfavour at your hands, for I have never asked for one. But philosophy\nhas taught me not only to love my benefactors, but even such as may\nhave done me injury, to attach greater importance to justice than to\nmy private interests, and to prefer the furtherance of the public\nwelfare to the service of my own. And so it comes about that while\nmost men love you for the actual benefits conferred upon them by your\ngoodness, I love you for the zeal with which that goodness is\ninspired. And the secret of my devotion is this. I have seen your\nmoderation in dealing with the affairs of the inhabitants of this\nprovince, a moderation which has won the affection of those who have\ncome into contact with you by the benefits you have conferred on them,\nof those with whom you have never come into contact by the good\nexample you have set. For while many have received your benefits, all\nhave profited by your example. Who would not gladly learn from you by\nwhat moderation one may acquire your pleasing gravity, your severity\ntempered with mercy, your unruffled resolution and the kindly energy\nof your character? Africa has within my knowledge had no proconsul\nwhom she reverenced more or feared less. Your year of office stands\nalone; for in it shame rather than fear has been the motive to set a\ncheck on crime. No other invested with your power has more often\nblessed, more rarely terrified: no governor has ever brought a son\nwith him more like his father's virtues than is yours; and for this\nreason no proconsul has ever resided longer at Carthage than have you.\nFor during the period which you devoted to visiting the province,\nHonorinus remained with us; wherefore, though we have never regretted\nour governor's absence more, we have felt it less. For the son has all\nhis father's sense of justice, the youth has all an old man's wisdom,\nthe deputy has all the consul's authority. In a word, he presents such\na perfect pattern and likeness of your virtues, that the glory\nacquired by one so young would, I vow, be a greater source of wonder\nthan your own, save for one fact; he has inherited it from you. Would\nwe might live in the joy of his perpetual presence! What need have we\nof change of governors? What profit of these short years, these\nfleeting months of office? Ah! how swiftly pass the days, when the\ngood are with us, how quickly spent the term of power for all the best\nof those who have ruled over us! Ah! Severianus, the whole province\nwill sigh for your departure. But Honorinus at least is called away\nby the honours which are his due; the praetorship awaits him; the\nfavour of the two Caesars forms him for the consulate; to-day our love\nenfolds him, and the hopes of Carthage promise that in the years to\ncome he will be here once more. Your example is our sole comfort; he\nwho has served as deputy shall soon return to us as proconsul!\n\n[Footnote 40: _clausulae_ vulgo.]\n\n[Footnote 41: _Daedalum_ (Krueger).]\n\n\n_On Providence and its marvels._\n\n     10. _First hail we thee, O Sun,\n         Whose fiery course and rushing steeds reveal\n         The glowing splendour of thy ardent flame._\n\nHail we also the Moon, who learns of his light how she herself may\nshine, and the influences also of the five planets--Jupiter that\nbrings blessings, Venus that brings pleasure, Mercury the giver of\nswiftness, Saturn the worker of bane, Mars with his temper of fire.\nThere are also other divine influences, that lie midway 'twixt earth\nand heaven, influences that we may feel but not see, such as the power\nof Love and the like, whose force we feel, though we have never seen\ntheir form. So too on earth 'tis this force that, in accordance with\nthe wise behests of providence, here bids the lofty peaks of mountains\nrise, there has spread forth the low flat levels of the plain, has\nmarked out the streams of rivers and the greensward of the meadows,\nhas given birds the power to fly, reptiles to crawl, wild beasts to\nrun, and men to walk.\n\n\n_A comparison between those who lack wealth and those who lack\nvirtue._\n\n11. He whose soul is barren of virtue is like those poor wretches that\ntill a barren inheritance of stony fields, mere heaps of rocks and\nthorns. Since they may win no harvest from their own wildernesses, and\nfind no fruit in a soil where only\n\n     _Wild oats and darnel rank have mastery_,\n\nconscious of their own poverty they go forth to steal the fruits of\nothers and rifle their gardens, that they may mingle their neighbours'\nflowers with their own thistles.\n\n\n_On the Parrot._\n\n12. The parrot is an Indian bird, in size very slightly smaller than a\ndove. But there is nothing dovelike in its hue. For it has nothing of\nthe milky whiteness or dull blue, blended or distinct, nor yet of the\npale yellow or iridescence that characterize the dove. The parrot is\ngreen from the roots of its feathers to their very tips, save only for\nthe markings on the neck. For its tiny neck is girdled and crowned\nwith a slender band of crimson like a collar of gold, which is of\nequal brilliance through all its extent. Its beak is extraordinarily\nhard. If after it has soared to a great height it swoops headlong on\nto some rock, it breaks the force of its fall with its beak, which it\nuses as an anchor. Its head is not less hard than its beak. When it is\nbeing taught to imitate human speech, it is beaten over the head with\nan iron wand, that it may recognize its master's command. This is the\nrod of its school-days. It can be taught to speak from the day of its\nbirth to its second year, while its mouth is still easily formed and\nits tongue sufficiently soft to learn the requisite modulations. On\nthe other hand, if caught when it is old, it is hard to teach and\nforgets what it has learned. The parrot which is most easily taught\nthe language of man is one that feeds on acorns and manlike has five\ntoes on each foot. All parrots do not possess this last peculiarity,\nbut there is one point which all have in common: their tongue is\nbroader than that of any other bird. Wherefore they articulate human\nwords more easily owing to the size of their palate and the organ of\nspeech. When it has learnt anything, it sings or rather speaks it out\nwith such perfect imitation that, if you should hear it, you would\nthink a man was speaking; on the contrary if you hear a crow[42]\nattempting to speak, you would still call the result croaking rather\nthan speech. But crow and parrot are alike in this; they can only\nutter words that they have been taught. Teach a parrot to curse and it\nwill curse continually, making night and day hideous with its\nimprecations. Cursing becomes its natural note and its ideal of\nmelody. When it has repeated all its curses, it repeats the same\nstrain again. Should you desire to rid yourself of its bad language,\nyou must either cut out its tongue or send it back as soon as possible\nto its native woods.\n\n[Footnote 42: _corvinam quidem si audias idem conantem, crocire non\nloqui._ The text is corrupt, Van der Vliet's suggestion probably gives\nthe correct sense.]\n\n\n_A comparison between the eloquence of the philosopher and the song of\nbirds._\n\n13. ... For the eloquence bestowed on me by philosophy has no\nresemblance to the song that nature has given to certain birds which\nsing but for a brief space and at certain times only. For instance,\nthe swallows sing at morn, the cicalas at noon, the night-owl late in\nthe dark, the screech-owl at even, the horned-owl at midnight, the\ncock before the dawn. Indeed these animals seem to have made a compact\ntogether as to the various times and tones of their song. The crowing\nof the cock is a sound should wake men from their beds, the horned-owl\ngroans, the screech-owl shrieks, the night-owl cries 'tuwhit, tuwhoo',\nthe cicalas chatter, and the swallows twitter shrill. But the wisdom\nand eloquence of the philosopher are ready at all times, waken awe in\nthem that hear, are profitable to the understanding, and their music\nis of every tone.\n\n\n_On Crates the Cynic._\n\n14. These arguments and the like which he had heard from the lips of\nDiogenes, together with others which suggested themselves to him on\nother occasions, had such influence with Crates, that at last he\nrushed out into the market-place and there renounced all his fortune\nas being a mere filthy encumbrance, a burden rather than a benefit.\nHis action having caused a crowd to collect, he cried in a loud voice,\nsaying, 'Crates, even Crates sets thee free.' Thenceforth he lived not\nonly in solitude, but naked and in perfect freedom and, so long as he\nlived, his life was happy. And such was the passion he inspired that a\nmaiden of noble birth, spurning suitors more youthful and more wealthy\nthan he, actually went so far as to beg him to marry her. In answer\nCrates bared his shoulders which were crowned with a hump, placed his\nwallet, staff and cloak upon the ground, and said to the girl, 'There\nis all my gear! and your eyes can judge of my beauty. Take good\ncounsel, lest later I find you complaining of your lot.' But Hipparche\naccepted his conditions, replying that she had already considered the\nquestion and taken sufficient counsel, for nowhere in all the world\ncould she find a richer or a fairer husband. 'Take me where you will!'\nshe cried....\n\n\n_Of the isle of Samos and Pythagoras._\n\n15. Samos is an island of no great size in the Icarian sea, and lies\nover against Miletus to the west, with but a small space of sea\nbetween them. In whichever direction you sail from this island, though\nyou make no great haste, the next day will see you safe in harbour.\nThe land does not respond readily to the cultivation of corn, and it\nis waste of time to plough it. But the olive grows better in it, and\nthose who grow vines or vegetables have no fault to find with it. Its\nfarmers are entirely taken up with hoeing the ground and the\ncultivation of trees, for it is from these rather than from cereals\nthat Samos derives its wealth. The native population is numerous, and\nthe island is visited by many strangers. The capital town is unworthy\nof its reputation, but the abundant ruins of its walls testify to its\nformer size.\n\nIt possesses, however, a temple of Juno famous from remote antiquity:\nto reach it, if I remember aright, one must follow the shore for not\nmore than twenty furlongs from the city. The treasury of the goddess\nis extraordinarily rich, containing great quantities of gold and\nsilver plate, in the form of platters, mirrors, cups, and all manner\nof utensils. There is also a great quantity of brazen images of\ndifferent kinds. These are of great antiquity, and remarkable for\ntheir workmanship; I may mention one of them in particular, a statue\nof Bathyllus standing in front of the altar; it was the gift of the\ntyrant Polycrates, and I think I have never seen anything more\nperfect. Some hold that it represents Pythagoras, but this opinion is\nincorrect. The statue represents a youth of remarkable beauty; his\nhair is parted evenly in the midst of his forehead and streams over\neither cheek. Behind his hair is longer and reaches down to his\nshoulders, covering the neck whose sheen one may detect between the\ntresses. The neck is plump, the jaws full, the cheeks fine, and there\nis a dimple in the middle of his chin. His pose is that of a player on\nthe lyre. He is looking at the goddess, and has the appearance of one\nthat sings, while his embroidered tunic streams to his very feet. He\nis girt in the Greek style, and a cloak covers either arm down to the\nwrists. The rest of the cloak hangs down in graceful folds. His lyre\nis fastened by an engraven baldric, which holds it close to the body.\nHis hands are delicate and taper. The left touches the strings with\nparted fingers, the right is in the attitude of one that plays and is\napproaching the lyre with the plectrum, as though ready to strike as\nsoon as the voice ceases for a moment to sing. Meanwhile the song\nseems to well forth from the delicate mouth, whose lips are half open\nfor the effort. This statue may represent one of the youthful\nfavourites of the tyrant Polycrates[43] hymning his master's love in\nAnacreontic[44] strain. But it is far from[45] likely that it is a\nstatue of the philosopher Pythagoras. It is true he was a native of\nSamos, remarkable for his unusual beauty, and skilled beyond all men\nin harping and all manner of music, and living at the period when\nPolycrates was lord of Samos. But the philosopher was far from being a\nfavourite of this tyrant. Indeed Pythagoras fled secretly from the\nisland at the very beginning of the tyrant's reign. He had recently\nlost his father Mnesarchus, who was, I read, a skilful jeweller\nexcelling in the carving of gems, though it was fame rather than\nwealth that he sought in the exercise of his art. There are some who\nassert that Pythagoras was about this time carried to Egypt among the\ncaptives of King Cambyses, and studied under the _magi_ of Persia,\nmore especially under Zoroaster the priest of all holy mysteries;\nlater they assert he was ransomed by a certain Gillus, King of Croton.\nHowever, the more generally accepted tradition asserts that it was of\nhis own choice he went to study the wisdom of the Egyptians. There he\nwas initiated by their priests into the mighty secrets of their\nceremonies, passing all belief; there he learned numbers in all their\nmarvellous combinations, and the ingenious laws of geometry. Not\ncontent with these sciences, he next approached the Chaldaeans and the\nBrahmins, a race of wise men who live in India.[46] Among these\nBrahmins he sought out the gymnosophists. The Chaldaeans taught him\nthe lore of the stars, the fixed orbits[47] of the wandering lords of\nheaven, and the influence of each on the births of men. Also they\ninstructed him in the art of healing, and revealed to him remedies in\nthe search for which men have lavished their wealth and wandered far\nby land and sea.[48] But it was from the Brahmins that he derived the\ngreater part of his philosophy, the arts of teaching the mind and\nexercising the body, the doctrines as to the parts of the soul and its\nvarious transmigrations, the knowledge of the torments and rewards\nordained for each man, according to his deserts, in the world of the\ngods below. Further he had for his master Pherecydes, a native of the\nisland of Syros and the first who dared throw off the shackles of\nverse and write in the free style of unfettered prose. Pherecydes died\nof a horrible disease, for his flesh rotted and was devoured of lice;\nPythagoras buried him with reverent care. He is said also to have\nstudied the laws of nature under Anaximander of Miletus, to have\nfollowed the Cretan Epimenides, a famous prophet skilled also in rites\nof expiation, that he might learn from him and also Leodamas, the\npupil of Creophylus, the reputed guest and rival of the poet Homer.\nTaught by so many sages, and having drained such deep and varied\ndraughts of learning through all the world, and being moreover dowered\nwith a vast intellect whose grandeur almost passes man's\nunderstanding, he was the founder of the science and the inventor of\nthe name of philosophy. The first of all his lessons to his disciples\nwas the lesson of silence. With him meditation was a necessary\npreliminary to wisdom, meditation set a bridle on all speech, robbed\nwords, which poets style winged, of their pinions and restrained them\nwithin the white barrier of the teeth. This, I tell you, was for him\nthe first axiom of wisdom, 'Meditation is learning, speech is\nunlearning.' His disciples, however, did not refrain from speech all\ntheir lives, nor did their master impose dumbness on all for a like\nspace of time. For those of more solid character a brief term of\nsilence was considered sufficient discipline; the more talkative were\npunished by exile from speech for as much as five years. I may add\nthat my master Plato deviates little or not at all from the principles\nof this school, and in most of his utterances is a follower of\nPythagoras. And that I too might win from my instructors the right to\nbe called one of his followers, I have learned this double lesson in\nthe course of my philosophical studies--to speak boldly when there is\nneed of speech and gladly to be mute when there is need of silence. As\na result of this self-command, I think I may say that I have won from\nyour predecessors no less praise for my seasonable silence than\napproval for the timeliness of my speech.\n\n[Footnote 43: _qui_ vulgo.]\n\n[Footnote 44: _Anacreonteum_ vulgo.]\n\n[Footnote 45: _ceterum multum abest_ (MSS.).]\n\n[Footnote 46: Omitting _illa_ before _Indiae gens est_.]\n\n[Footnote 47: _statos ambitus_ (Krueger).]\n\n[Footnote 48: _mortalibus_ MSS. _late pecuniis_ (Stewech).]\n\n\n_An oration of thanks to Aemilianus Strabo and the senate of Carthage\nfor decreeing a statue in his honour._\n\n16. Before I begin, illustrious representatives of Africa, to thank\nyou for the statue, with the demand for which you honoured me while I\nwas still with you, setting the seal upon your kindness by actually\ndecreeing its erection during my absence, I wish first to explain to\nyou why I absented myself for a considerable number of days from the\nsight of my audience and betook myself to the Persian baths, where the\nhealthy may find delightful bathing, and the sick a no less welcome\nrelief. For I have resolved to make it clear to you, to whose service\nI have dedicated myself irrevocably and for ever, that every moment of\nmy life is well spent. There shall be no action of mine, important or\ntrivial, but you shall be informed of it and pass judgement upon it.\nWell then! to come to the reason for my sudden departure from the\npresence of this most distinguished assembly, I will tell you a story\nof the comic poet Philemon which is not so very unlike my own and will\nserve to show you how sudden and unexpected are the perils that\nthreaten the life of man. You all are well acquainted with his\ntalents, listen then to a few words concerning his death, or perhaps\nyou would like a few words on his talents as well.\n\nThis Philemon was a poet, a writer of the middle comedy, and composed\nplays for the stage in competition with Menander and contested against\nhim. He may not have been his equal, he was certainly his rival. Nay,\non not a few occasions--I am almost ashamed to mention it--he actually\ndefeated him. However this may be, you will certainly find his works\nfull of humour: the plots are full of wittily contrived intrigue, the\n_denouements_ clear, the characters suited to the situations, the\nwords true to life, the jests never unworthy of true comedy, the\nserious passages never quite on the level of tragedy. Seductions are\nrare in his plays; if he introduces love affairs, it is as a\nconcession to human weakness. That does not, however, prevent the\npresence in his plays of the faithless pander, the passionate lover,\nthe cunning slave, the coquetting mistress, the jealous wife whose\nword is law, the indulgent mother, the crusty uncle, the friend in\nneed, the warlike soldier, aye and hungry parasites, skinflint\nparents, and saucy drabs. One day, long after these excellences had\nmade him famous as a writer of comedy, he happened to give a\nrecitation of a portion of a play which he had just written. He had\nreached the third act, and was beginning to arouse in his audience\nthose pleasurable emotions so dear to comedy, when a sudden shower\ndescended and forced him to put off the audience gathered to hear him\nand the recitation which he had just begun. A similar event befell me,\nyou will remember, quite recently when I was addressing you. However,\nPhilemon, at the demand of various persons, promised to finish his\nrecitation the next day without further postponement. On the morrow,\ntherefore, a vast crowd assembled to hear him with the utmost\nenthusiasm. Everybody who could do so took a seat facing the stage and\nas near to it as he could get. Late arrivals made signs to their\nfriends to make room for them to sit: those who sat at the end of a\nrow complained of being thrust off their seat into the gangway; the\nwhole theatre was crammed with a vast audience. A hum of\nconversation[49] arose. Those who had not been present the previous\nday began to ask what had been recited; those who had been present\nbegan to recall what they had heard, and finally when everybody had\nmade themselves acquainted with what had preceded, all began to look\nforward to what was to come. Meanwhile the day wore on and Philemon\nfailed to come at the appointed time. Some blamed the poet for the\ndelay, more defended him. But when they had sat there for quite an\nunreasonable length of time and still Philemon did not make his\nappearance, some of the more active members of the audience were sent\nto fetch him. They found him lying in his bed--dead. He had just\nbreathed his last, and lay there upon the couch stiff and stark in the\nattitude of one plunged in meditation. His fingers still were twined\nabout his book, his mouth still pressed against the page he had been\nreading. But the life had left him; he had forgotten his book, and\nlittle recked he now of his audience. Those who had entered the room\nstood motionless for a space, struck dumb by the strange suddenness of\nthe blow and the wondrous beauty of his death. Then they returned and\nreported to the people that the poet Philemon, for whom they were\nwaiting that there in the theatre he might finish the drama of his\nimagination, had finished the one true play, the drama of life, in his\nown home. To this world he had said 'farewell' and 'applaud', but to\nhis friends 'weep and make your moan'. 'The shower of yesterday,' they\ncontinued, 'was an omen of our tears; the comedy has ended in the\ntorch of funeral or ever it could come to the torch of marriage. Nay,\nsince so great a poet has laid aside the mask of this life, let us go\nstraight from the theatre to perform his burial. 'Tis his bones we now\nmust gather to our hearts; his verse must for awhile take second\nplace.'\n\n[Footnote 49: _loqui_ (Van der Vliet).]\n\nIt was long ago that I first learned the story I have just told you,\nbut the peril I have undergone during the last few days[50] has\nbrought it afresh to my mind. For when my recitation was--as I am sure\nyou remember--interrupted by the rain, at your desire I put it off\ntill the morrow, and in good truth it was nearly with me as it was\nwith Philemon. For on that same day I twisted my ankle so violently at\nthe wrestling school that I almost tore the joint from my leg.\nHowever, it returned to its socket, though my leg is still weak with\nthe sprain. But there is more to tell you. My efforts to reduce the\ndislocation were so great that my body broke out into a profuse sweat\nand I caught a severe chill. This was followed by agonizing pain in my\nbowels, which only subsided when its violence was on the point of\nkilling me. A moment more and like Philemon I should have gone to the\ngrave, not to my recital, should have finished not my speech but my\ndestiny, should have brought not my tale but my life to a close. Well\nthen, as soon as the gentle temperature and still more the soothing\nmedical properties of the Persian baths had restored to me the use of\nmy foot--for though it gave naught save the most feeble support, it\nsufficed me in my eagerness to appear before you--I set forth to\nperform my pledge. And in the interval you have conferred such a boon\nupon me that you have not only removed my lameness but have made me\npositively nimble.\n\n[Footnote 50: The reading is uncertain. Van der Vliet's suggestion\nseems to give the outline of the sense desired.]\n\nWas I not right to make all speed that I might express my boundless\ngratitude for the honour which you have conferred unasked. True,\nCarthage is so illustrious a city that it were an honour to her that a\nphilosopher should beg to be thus rewarded, but I wished the boon you\nhave bestowed on me to have its full value with no taint of\ndetraction, to suffer no loss of grace by any petition on my part, in\na word to be wholly disinterested. For he that begs pays so heavily,\nand so large is the price that he to whom the petition is addressed\nreceives, that, where the necessaries of life are concerned, one had\nrather purchase them one and all than ask them as a gift. Above all,\nthis principle applies to cases where honours are concerned. He to\nwhom they come as the result of importunate petition owes[51] no\ngratitude for his success to any save himself. On the other hand, he\nwho receives honours without descending to vexatious canvassing is\nobliged to the givers for two reasons; he has not asked and yet he has\nreceived. The thanks, therefore, which I owe you are double or rather\nmanifold, and my lips shall proclaim them at all times and places. But\non the present occasion I will, as is my wont, make public\nprotestation of my gratitude from a written address which I have\nspecially composed in view of this distinction. For assuredly that is\nthe method in which a philosopher should return thanks to a city that\nhas decreed him a public statue. My discourse will, however, depart\nslightly from this method as a mark of respect to the exalted\ncharacter and position of Aemilianus Strabo. I hope that I may be able\nto compose a suitable discourse if only you will permit me to submit\nit to your approbation[52] to-day. For Strabo is so distinguished a\nscholar, that his own talents bring him even greater honour than his\nnoble rank and his tenure of the consulate. In what terms, Aemilianus\nStrabo, who of all men that have been, are, or yet shall be, are most\nrenowned among the virtuous, most virtuous among the renowned, most\nlearned amongst either, in what terms can I hope to thank or\ncommemorate the gracious thoughts you have entertained for me? How may\nI hope adequately to celebrate the honour to which your kindness has\nprompted you? How may my speech repay you worthily for the glory\nconferred by your action? It baffles my imagination. But I will seek\nearnestly and strive to find a way\n\n     _While breath still rules these limbs and memory\n     Is conscious of its being._\n\n[Footnote 51: _unam gratiam_ vulgo.]\n\n[Footnote 52: _vobis comprobari_ (Krueger).]\n\nFor at the present moment, I will not deny it, the gladness of my\nheart is too loud for my eloquence, I cannot think for pleasure,\ndelight is master of my soul and bids me rejoice rather than speak.\nWhat shall I do? I wish to show my gratitude, but my joy is such that\nI have not yet leisure to express my thanks. No one, however sour and\nstern he be, will blame me if the honour bestowed on me makes me no\nless nervous[53] than appreciative, if the testimony to my merits,\ndelivered by a man of such fame and learning, has transported me with\nexultation. For he delivered it in the senate of Carthage, a body\nwhose kindness is only equalled by its distinction; and he that spoke\nwas one who had held the consulship, one by whom it were an honour\neven to be known. Such was the man who appeared before the most\nillustrious citizens of the province of Africa to sing my praise!\n\n[Footnote 53: _non minus uereor quam intellego_ (Krueger).]\n\nI have been told that two days ago he sent a written request in which\nhe demanded that my statue should be given a conspicuous place, and\nabove all told of the bonds of friendship which began under such\nhonourable circumstances, when we served together beneath the banner\nof literature and studied under the same masters; he then recorded[54]\nall the good wishes for his success with which I had welcomed each\nsuccessive step of his advance in his official career. He had already\ndone me a compliment in remembering that I had once been his fellow\nstudent: it was a fresh compliment that so great a man should record\nmy friendship for him as though I were his equal. But he went further.\nHe stated that other peoples and cities had decreed not only statues,\nbut other distinctions as well in my honour. Could anything be added\nto such a panegyric as this, delivered by the lips of an ex-consul?\nYes: for he cited the priesthood I had undertaken, and showed that I\nhad attained the highest honour that Carthage can bestow. But the\ngreatest and most remarkable compliment[55] paid me was this: after\nproducing such a wealth of flattering testimonials he commended me to\nyour notice by himself voting in my favour. Finally, he, a man in\nwhose honour every province rejoices through all the world to erect\nfour or six horse chariots, promised that he would erect my statue at\nCarthage at his own expense.\n\n[Footnote 54: _nunc postea vota omnia mea_ (MSS.).]\n\n[Footnote 55: om. _honos_ following MSS.]\n\nWhat lacks there to sanction and establish my glory and to set it on\nthe topmost pinnacle of fame? I ask you, what is there lacking?\nAemilianus Strabo, who has already held the consulship and is\ndestined, as we all hope and pray, soon to be a proconsul, proposed\nthe resolution conferring these honours upon me in the senate-house of\nCarthage. You gave your unanimous assent to the proposal. Surely in\nyour eyes this was more than a mere resolution, it was a solemn\nenactment of law. Nay more, all the Carthaginians gathered in this\naugust assembly showed such readiness in granting a site for the\nstatue that they might make it clear to you that, if they put off a\nresolution for the erection of a second statue, as I hope,[56] to the\nnext meeting of the senate, they were influenced by the desire to show\nthe fullest reverence and respect to their honourable consular, and to\navoid seeming to emulate rather than imitate his beneficence. That is\nto say, they wished to set apart a whole day for the business of\nconferring on me the public honour still in store. Moreover, these\nmost excellent magistrates, these most gracious chiefs of your city,\nremembered that the charge with which you men of Carthage had\nentrusted them was in full harmony with their desires. Would you have\nme be ignorant, be silent, as to these details? It would be rank\ningratitude. Far from that, I offer my very warmest thanks to the\nwhole assembly for their most lavish favour. I could not be more\ngrateful. For they have honoured me with the most flattering applause\nin that senate-house, where even to be named is the height of honour.\nAnd so I have in some sense achieved--pardon my vanity--that which was\nso hard to achieve, and seemed indeed not unnaturally to be beyond my\npowers. I have won the affections of the people, the favour of the\nsenate, the approbation of the magistrates and the chief men of the\ncity. What lacks there now to the honour of my statue, save the price\nof the bronze and the service of the artist? These have never been\ndenied me even in small cities. Much less shall Carthage deny it,\nCarthage, whose senate, even where greater issues are at stake,\ndecrees and counts not the cost. But I will speak of this more fully\nat a later date, when you have given fuller effect to your resolution.\nMoreover, when the time comes for the dedication of my statue, I will\nproclaim my gratitude to you yet more amply in another written\ndiscourse, will declare it to you, noble senators, to you, renowned\ncitizens, to you, my worthy friends. Yes, I will commit my gratitude\nto the retentive pages of a book, that it may travel through every\nprovince and, worlds and ages hence, record my praises of your\nkindness to all peoples and all time.\n\n[Footnote 56: _quantum spero_ (MSS.).]\n\n\n_Fragment of a panegyric on Scipio Orfitus._\n\n17. I leave it to those who are in the habit of obtruding themselves\nupon their proconsul's leisure moments[57] to attempt to commend their\nwits by the exuberance of their speech, and to glorify themselves by\naffecting to bask in the smiles of your friendship. Both of these\noffences are far from me, Scipio Orfitus. For on the one hand my poor\nwit, such as it is, is too well known to all men to have any need of\nfurther commendation; on the other hand, I prefer to enjoy rather than\nto parade the friendship of yourself and such as you; I desire such\nfriendship, but I do not boast of it, for desire can in no case be\nother than genuine, whereas boasting may always be false. With this in\nview I have ever cultivated the arts of virtue, I have always sought\nboth here in Africa and when I moved among your friends in Rome to win\na fair name both for my character and studies, as you yourself can\namply testify, with the result that you should be no less eager to\ncourt my friendship than I to long for yours. Reluctance to excuse the\nrarity of a friend's appearances is a sign that you desire his\ncontinual presence; if you delight in the frequency of his visits or\nare angry with him for neglecting to come, if you welcome his company\nand regret its cessation, it is clear proof of love, since it is\nobvious that his presence must be a pleasure whose absence is a pain.\nBut the voice, if it be refrained in continued silence, is as useless\nas the nostrils when choked by a cold in the head, the ears when they\nare blocked with dirt, the eyes when they are sealed by cataract. What\ncan the hands do, if they are fettered, or what the feet, if they are\nshackled? What can[58] the mind that rules and directs us do, if it be\nrelaxed in sleep or drowned in wine or crushed beneath the weight of\ndisease? Nay, as the sword acquires its sheen by usage, and rusts if\nit lie idle, so the voice is dulled by its long torpor if it be hidden\nin the sheath of silence. Desuetude must needs beget sloth, and sloth\ndecay. If the tragic actor declaim not daily, the resonance of his\nvoice is dulled and its channels grow hoarse. Wherefore he purges his\nhuskiness by loud and repeated recitation. However, it is vain toil\nand useless labour[59] for a man to attempt to improve the natural\nquality of the human voice. There are many sounds that surpass it. The\ntrumpet's blare is louder, the music of the lyre more varied, the\nplaint of the flute more pleasing, the murmurs of the pipe sweeter,\nthe message of the bugle further heard. I forbear to mention the\nnatural sounds of many animals which challenge admiration by their\ndifferent peculiarities, as, for instance, the deep bellow of the\nbull, the wolf's shrill howl, the dismal trumpeting of the elephant,\nthe horse's lively neigh, the bird's piercing song, the angry roar of\nthe lion, together with the cries of other beasts, harsh or musical,\naccording as they are roused by the madness of anger or the charms of\npleasure. In place of such cries the gods have given man a voice of\nnarrower compass; but if it give less delight to the ear, it is far\nmore useful to the understanding. Wherefore it should be all the more\ncultivated by the most frequent use, and that nowhere else[60] than in\nthe presence of an audience presided over by so great a man, and in\nthe midst of so numerous and distinguished a gathering of learned men\nwho come kindly disposed to hear. For my part, if I were skilled to\nmake ravishing music on the lyre, I should never play save before\ncrowded assemblies. It was in solitude that\n\n     _Orpheus to woods, to fish Arion sang._\n\n[Footnote 57: om. _et negotiosis_ following MSS.]\n\n[Footnote 58: _quid si etiam_ (Krueger).]\n\n[Footnote 59: _cassus labor supervacaneo studio. Plurifariam\nsuperatur_, (MSS.). The reading is uncertain, but the above\npunctuation will yield adequate sense.]\n\n[Footnote 60: om. _usquam libentius_ with MSS.]\n\nFor if we may believe legend, Orpheus had been driven to lonely exile,\nArion hurled from his ship. One of them soothed savage beasts, the\nother charmed beasts that were compassionate: both musicians were\nunhappy, inasmuch as they strove not for honour nor of their free\nchoice, but for their safety and of hard necessity. I should have\nadmired them more if they had pleased men, not beasts. Such solitude\nwere far better suited to birds, to blackbird and nightingale and\nswan. The blackbird whistles like a happy boy in distant wilds, the\nnightingale trills its song of youthful passion in the lonely places\nof Africa, the swan by far-off rivers chants the music of old age. But\nhe who would produce a song that shall profit boys, youths, and\ngreybeards, must sing it in the midst of thousands of men, even as now\nI sing the virtues of Orfitus. It is late, perhaps, but it is meant in\nall earnestness, and may prove no less pleasing than profitable to the\nboys, the youths, and the old men of Carthage. For all have enjoyed\nthe indulgence of the best of all proconsuls: he has tempered their\ndesires and restrained them with gentle remedies, he has given to boys\nthe boon of plenty, to young men merriment, and to the old security.\nBut now, Scipio, that I have come to touch on your merits, I fear lest\neither your own noble modesty or my own native bashfulness may close\nmy mouth. But I cannot refrain from touching on a very few of the many\nvirtues which we so justly admire in you. Citizens whom he has saved,\nshow with me that you recognize them!\n\n\n_A discourse pronounced before the Carthaginians, incidentally\ntreating of Thales and Protagoras._\n\n18. You have come in such large numbers to hear me that I feel I ought\nrather to congratulate Carthage for possessing so many friends of\nlearning among her citizens than demand pardon for myself, the\nprofessed philosopher who ventures to speak in public. For the crowd\nthat has collected is worthy of the grandeur of our city, and the\nplace chosen for my speech is worthy of so great a multitude.\nMoreover, in a theatre we must consider, not the marble of its\npavements, not the boards of the stage, nor the columns of the\nback-scene, nay, nor yet the height of its gables, the splendour of\nits fretted roofs, the expanse of its tiers of seats; we need not call\nto mind that this place is sometimes the scene for the foolery of the\nmime, the dialogue of comedy, the sonorous rant of tragedy, the\nperilous antics of the rope-walker, the juggler's sleight of hand, the\ngesticulation of the dancer, with all the tricks of their respective\narts that are displayed before the people by other artists. All these\nconsiderations may be put on one side; all that we need consider is\nthis, the discourse of the orator and the reasons for the presence of\nthe audience. Wherefore, just as poets in this place shift the scene\nto various other cities--take, for instance, the tragic poet who makes\nhis actor say\n\n     _Liber, that dwellest on these heights august\n     Of famed Cithaeron_\n\nor the comic poet who says\n\n     _Plautus but asks you for a tiny space\n     Within the circuit vast of these fair walls,\n     Whither without the aid of architect\n     He may transport old Athens,--_\n\neven so I beg your leave to shift my scene, not, however, to any\ndistant city overseas, but to the senate-house or public library of\nCarthage. I ask you, therefore, if any of my utterances be worthy of\nthe senate-house, to imagine that you are listening to me within the\nvery walls of the senate-house; if my words reveal learning, I beg you\nto regard them as though you were reading them in the public library.\nWould that I could find words enough to do justice to the magnitude of\nthis assembly and did not falter just when I would be most eloquent.\nBut the old saying is true, that heaven never blesses any man with\nunmixed and flawless prosperity; even in the keenest joys there is\never some slight undertone of grief, some blend of gall and honey;\nthere is no rose without a thorn. I have often experienced the truth\nof this, and never more than at the present moment. For the more I\nrealize how ready you are to praise me, the more exaggerated becomes\nthe awe in which I stand of you, and the greater my reluctance to\nspeak. I have spoken to strange audiences often, and with the utmost\nfluency, but now that I am confronted with my own folk, I hesitate.\nStrange to say, I am frightened by what should allure, curbed by what\nshould spur me on, and restrained by what should make me bold. There\nis much that should give me courage in your presence. I have made my\nhome in your city which I knew well as a boy, and where my student\ndays were spent. You know my philosophic views, my voice is no\nstranger to you, you have read my books and approved of them. My\nbirthplace is represented in the council of Africa, that is, in your\nown assembly; my boyhood was spent with you, you were my teachers, it\nwas here that my philosophy found its first inspiration, though 'twas\nAttic Athens brought it to maturity, and, during the last six years,\nmy voice, speaking in either language, has been familiar to your ears.\nNay more, my books have no higher title to the universal praise that\nis theirs, than the fact that you have passed a favourable judgement\nupon them. All these great and varied allurements, appealing as they\ndo to you as well as to me, hamper and intimidate me just in\nproportion as they attract you to the pleasure of hearing me. I should\nfind it far easier to sing your praises before the citizens of some\nother city than to your face. To such an extent is it true that\nmodesty is a serious obstacle to one confronted by his fellow\ncitizens, while truth may speak unfettered in the presence of\nstrangers. But always and everywhere I praise you as my parents and\nthe first teachers of my youth, and do my best to repay my debt. But\nthe reward I offer you is not that which the sophist Protagoras\nstipulated to receive and never got, but that which the wise Thales\ngot without ever stipulating for it. What is it you want? Ah! I\nunderstand. I will tell you both stories.\n\nProtagoras was a sophist with knowledge on an extraordinary number of\nsubjects, and one of the most eloquent among the first inventors of\nthe art of rhetoric. He was a fellow citizen and contemporary of the\nphysicist Democritus, and it was from Democritus he derived his\nlearning. The story runs that Protagoras made a rash bargain with his\npupil Euathlus, contracting for an exceptionally high fee on the\nfollowing conditions. The money was to be paid if Euathlus was\nsuccessful in the first suit he pleaded in court. The young man\ntherefore first learned all the methods employed to win the votes of\nthe jurors, all the tricks of opposing counsel, and all the artifices\nof oratory. This he did with ease, for he was a very clever fellow\nwith a natural aptitude for strategy. When he had satisfied himself\nthat he had learned all he desired to know, he began to show\nreluctance to perform his part of the contract. At first he baffled\nhis teacher's requests for payment by interposing various ingenious\ndelays, and for a considerable time refused either to plead in court\nor to pay the stipulated fee. At last Protagoras called him into\ncourt, set forth the conditions under which he had accepted him as a\npupil, and propounded the following dilemma. 'If I win,' he said, 'you\nmust pay the fee, for you will be condemned to do so. If you win, you\nwill still have to pay under the terms of your contract. For you will\nhave won the first suit you have ever pleaded. So if you win, you lose\nunder the terms of the contract: if you are defeated, you lose by the\nsentence of the court.' What more would you have? The jury thought the\nargument a marvel of shrewdness and quite irrefutable. But Euathlus\nshowed himself a very perfect pupil of so cunning a master, and turned\nback the dilemma on its inventor. 'In that case,' he replied, 'I owe\nyour fee under neither count. For either I win and am acquitted by the\ncourt, or lose and am released from the bargain, which states that I\ndo not owe you the fee if I am defeated in my first case in court. And\nthis is my first case! So in any case I come off scot free; if I lose,\nI am saved by the contract; if I win, by the verdict of the jury.'\nWhat think you? Does not the opposition of these sophistic arguments\nremind you of brambles, that the wind has entangled one with another?\nThey cling together; thorns of like length on either side, each\npenetrating to an equal depth, each dealing wound for wound. So we\nwill leave Protagoras' reward to shrewd and greedy folk. It involves\ntoo many thorny difficulties. Far better is that other reward, which\nthey say was suggested by[61] Thales.\n\n[Footnote 61: _Thalem ... suasisse_ (MSS.).]\n\nThales of Miletus was easily the most remarkable of the famous seven\nsages. For he was the first of the Greeks to discover the science of\ngeometry, was a most accurate investigator of the laws of nature, and\na most skilful observer of the stars. With the help of a few small\nlines he discovered the most momentous facts: the revolution of the\nyears, the blasts of the winds, the wanderings of the stars, the\nechoing miracle of thunder, the slanting path of the zodiac, the\nannual turnings of the sun, the waxing of the moon when young, her\nwaning when she has waxed old, and the shadow of her eclipse; of all\nthese he discovered the laws. Even when he was far advanced into the\nvale of years, he evolved a divinely inspired theory concerning the\nperiod of the sun's revolution through the circle in which he moves\nin all his majesty. This theory, I may say, I have not only learned\nfrom books, but have also proved its truth by experiment. This theory\nThales is said to have taught soon after its discovery to Mandraytus\nof Priene. The latter, fascinated by the strangeness and novelty of\nhis newly acquired knowledge, bade Thales choose whatever recompense\nhe might desire in return for such precious instruction. 'It is enough\nrecompense,' replied Thales the wise, 'if you will refrain from\nclaiming as your own the theory I have taught you, whenever you begin\nto impart it to others, and will proclaim me and no other as the\ndiscoverer of this new law.' In truth that was a noble recompense,\nworthy of so great a man and beyond the reach of time. For that\nrecompense has been paid to Thales down to this very day, and shall be\npaid to all eternity by all of us who have realized the truth of his\ndiscoveries concerning the heavens.\n\nSuch is the recompense I pay you, citizens of Carthage, through all\nthe world, in return for the instruction that Carthage gave me as a\nboy. Everywhere I boast myself your city's nursling, everywhere and in\nevery way I sing your praises, do zealous honour to your learning,\ngive glory to your wealth and reverent worship to your gods. Now,\ntherefore, I will begin by speaking of the god Aesculapius. With what\nmore auspicious theme could I engage your ears? For he honours the\ncitadel of our own Carthage with the protection of his undoubted\npresence. See, I will sing to you both in Greek and Latin a hymn\nwhich I have composed to his glory and long since dedicated to him.\nFor I am well known as a frequenter of his rites, my worship of him is\nno new thing, my priesthood has received the smile of his favour, and\nere now I have expressed my veneration for him both in prose and\nverse. Even so now I will chant a hymn to his glory both in Greek and\nLatin. I have prefaced it with a dialogue likewise in both tongues, in\nwhich Sabidius Severus and Julius Persius shall speak together. They\nare men who are deservedly bound alike to one another, and to you and\nthe public weal by the closest ties of friendship. Both are equally\ndistinguished for their learning, their eloquence, and their\nbenevolence. It is difficult to say whether they are more remarkable\nfor their great moderation, their ready energy, or the distinction of\ntheir career. They are united one to another by the most complete\nharmony. There is but one point on which rivalry exists between them,\nnamely this: they dispute which has the greater love for Carthage; for\nthis they contend with all their strength and all their soul, and\nneither is vanquished in the contest. Thinking, then, that you would\nbe most delighted to listen to their converse, and that such a theme\nsuited my powers and would be a welcome offering to the god, I begin\nat the outset of my book by making one of my fellow students of Athens\ndemand of Persius in Greek what was the subject of the declamation\ndelivered by myself on the previous day in the temple of Aesculapius.\nAs the dialogue proceeds I introduce Severus to their company. His\npart is written in the language of Rome. For Persius, although a\nmaster of Latin, shall yet to-day speak to you in the Attic tongue.\n\n\n_A story of the physician Asclepiades._\n\n19. The famous Asclepiades, who ranks among the greatest of doctors,\nindeed, if you except Hippocrates, as the very greatest, was the first\nto discover the use of wine as a remedy. It requires, however, to be\nadministered at the proper moment, and it was in the discovery of the\nright moment that he showed especial skill, noting most carefully the\nslightest symptom of disorder or undue rapidity of the pulse. It\nchanced that once, when he was returning to town from his country\nhouse, he observed an enormous funeral procession in the suburbs of\nthe city. A huge multitude of men who had come out to perform the last\nhonours stood round about the bier, all of them plunged in deep sorrow\nand wearing worn and ragged apparel. He asked whom they were burying,\nbut no one replied; so he went nearer[62] to satisfy his curiosity and\nto see who it might be that was dead, or, it may be, in the hope to\nmake some discovery in the interests of his profession. Be this as it\nmay, he certainly snatched the man from the jaws of death as he lay\nthere on the verge of burial. The poor fellow's limbs were already\ncovered with spices, his mouth filled with sweet-smelling unguent. He\nhad been anointed and was all ready for the pyre. But Asclepiades\nlooked upon him, took careful note of certain signs, handled his body\nagain and again and perceived that the life was still in him, though\nscarcely to be detected. Straightway he cried out 'He lives! Throw\ndown your torches, take away your fire demolish the pyre, take back\nthe funeral feast and spread it on his board at home'. While he spoke\na murmur arose; some said that they must take the doctor's word,\nothers mocked at the physician's skill. At last, in spite of the\nopposition offered even by his relations, perhaps because they had\nalready entered into possession of the dead man's property, perhaps\nbecause they did not yet believe his words, Asclepiades persuaded them\nto put off the burial for a brief space. Having thus rescued him from\nthe hands of the undertaker, he carried the man home, as it were from\nthe very mouth of hell, and straightway revived the spirit within him,\nand by means of certain drugs called forth the life that still lay\nhidden in the secret places of the body.\n\n[Footnote 62: _uti_ (Beyte) _cognosceret more ingenii_ (MSS.). _more\ningenii_ may be corrupt. If it may stand, it must mean 'as his nature\nprompted him', i.e. to satisfy his curiosity.]\n\n\n_A panegyric on his own talents._\n\n20. There is a remarkable saying of a wise man concerning the\npleasures of the table to the effect that, 'The first glass quenches\nthirst, the second makes merry, the third kindles desire, the fourth\nmadness.' But in the case of a draught from the Muses' fountain the\nreverse is true. The more cups you drink and the more undiluted the\ndraught the better it will be for your soul's good. The first cup is\ngiven by the master that teaches you to read and write and redeems you\nfrom ignorance[63], the second is given by the teacher of literature\nand equips you with learning, the third arms you with the eloquence of\nthe rhetorician. Of these three cups most men drink. I, however, have\ndrunk yet other cups at Athens--the imaginative draught of poetry, the\nclear draught of geometry, the sweet draught of music, the austerer\ndraught of dialectic, and the nectar of all philosophy, whereof no man\nmay ever drink enough. For Empedocles composed verse, Plato dialogues,\nSocrates hymns, Epicharmus music, Xenophon histories, and Xenocrates\nsatire. But your friend Apuleius cultivates all these branches of art\ntogether and worships all nine Muses with equal zeal. His enthusiasm\nis, I admit, in advance of his capacity, but that perhaps makes him\nall the more praiseworthy, inasmuch as in all high enterprises it is\nthe effort that merits praise, success is after all a matter of\nchance. As an illustration I may remind you, that the law punishes\neven the premeditation of crime, though the criminal's purpose may\nnever have been carried out; the hand may be pure, but there is blood\nupon the soul, and that suffices. As, then, to call down the doom of\nlaw it suffices to purpose deeds meet for punishment, so to win praise\nit is sufficient to essay deeds worthy of the voice of fame; and what\ngreater or surer claim to praise may any man have than to glorify\nCarthage? For you, her citizens, are full of learning to a man, your\nboys learn, your young men display, and your old men teach all manner\nof knowledge. Carthage is the venerable instructress of our province,\nCarthage is the heavenly muse of Africa, Carthage is the fount whence\nall the Roman world draws draughts of inspiration.\n\n[Footnote 63: _litteratoris, ruditate_ (Krueger).]\n\n\n_An excuse for delay caused by social duties._\n\n21. Sometimes even when haste is most incumbent on us, the delays that\nslow our progress may bring such honour, that often we shall be glad\nto have been thwarted of our purpose. For instance, take the case of\npersons who are compelled to journey in such high haste, that they\nprefer the perils of the saddle to a seat in a carriage on account of\nthe trouble caused by their baggage, the weight of the vehicle, the\ndelays to progress, the roughness of the track, not to mention the\nboulders that beset the route, the tree trunks fallen across the way,\nthe rivers that intersect the level, and the steep slopes of the\nmountains. Well, then, those who wish to avoid all these obstacles\nselect a horse of tried endurance, mettle, and speed, that is to say,\none strong to bear and swift to go, like the horse described by\nLucilius that\n\n     _With one sole stride o'erpasses plain and hill._\n\nNone the less, if as this horse bears them along on the wings of his\nspeed, they chance to see some great personage, a man of noble birth,\nhigh wisdom, and universal fame, then, however pressing their haste,\nthey refrain their speed that they may do him honour, slacken their\npace and rein in their horse: then straightway leaping to the ground\nthey transfer to their left hand the switch, which they carry\nwherewith to beat the horse, and with right hand thus left free\napproach the great man and salute him. If it please him for a while to\nask questions of them, they will walk with him for a while and talk\nwith him: in fact they will gladly suffer any amount of delay in the\nperformance of the duty which they owe him.\n\n\n_On the Virtues of Crates._\n\n22. Crates, the well-known disciple of Diogenes, was honoured at\nAthens by the men of his own day as though he had been a household\ngod. No house was ever closed to him, no head of a family had ever so\nclose a secret as to regard Crates as an unseasonable intruder: he was\nalways welcome; there was never a quarrel, never a lawsuit between\nkinsfolk, but he was accepted as mediator and his word was law. The\npoets tell that Hercules of old by his valour subdued all the wild\nmonsters of legend, beast or man, and purged all the world of them.\nEven so our philosopher was a very Hercules in the conquest of anger,\nenvy, avarice, lust, and all the other monstrous sins that beset the\nhuman soul. He expelled all these pests from their minds, purged\nhouseholds, and tamed vice. Nay, he too went half-naked and was\ndistinguished by the club he carried, aye, and he sprang from that\nsame Thebes, where Hercules, men say, was born. Even before he became\nCrates pure and simple, he was accounted one of the chief men in\nThebes: his family was noble, his establishment numerous, his house\nhad a fair and ample porch: his lands were rich and his clothing\nsumptuous. But later, when he understood that the wealth which had\nbeen transmitted to him, carried with it no safeguard whereon he might\nlean as on a staff in the ways of life, but that all was fragile and\ntransitory, that all the wealth that is in all the world was of no\nassistance to a virtuous life....\n\n\n_On the uncertainty of fortune._\n\n23. Imagine some good ship, wrought by skilled hands, well built\nwithin and fairly adorned without, with rudder answering to the touch,\ntaut rigging, lofty mast, resplendent tops, and shining sails; in a\nword, supplied with all such gear as may serve either for use or the\ndelight of the eye. Imagine all this and then think how easily, if the\ntempest and no helmsman be her guide, the deep may engulf her or the\nreefs grind her to pieces with all her goodly gear. Again, when\nphysicians enter a sick man's house to visit him, none of them bids\nthe invalid be of good cheer on account of the exquisite balconies\nwith which they see the house to be adorned, nor on account of the\nfretted ceilings all overlaid with gold, or the multitudes of handsome\nboys and youths that stand about the couch in his chamber. Rather the\nphysician sits down by the man's bedside, takes his hand, feels it and\nexplores the beat and movements of the pulse. If he discovers any\nirregularity or disorder, he informs his patient that he is seriously\nill. Our rich man is bidden fast: on that day mid all the abundant\nstore of his own house, he touches not even bread: and meanwhile all\nhis slaves feast and are merry, and their servile state makes no\ndifference to them.\n\n\n_An improvisation._\n\n24. You have asked me to give you an improvisation. Listen then. You\nhave heard me speak prepared, now hear me unprepared. I think I risk\nbut little in making an attempt to speak without premeditation in view\nof the extraordinary approval which I have won by my set speeches. For\nhaving pleased you by more serious efforts, I have no fear of\ndispleasing you when I speak on a frivolous subject. But in order that\nyou may know me in all my infinite variety, make trial of me in what\nLucilius called\n\n     _The improviser's formless art_,\n\nand see whether I have the same skill at short notice as I have after\npreparation; if indeed there be any of you who have never heard the\ntrifles I toss off on the spur of the moment. You will listen to them\nwith the same critical exactitude that I have bestowed on their\ncomposition, but with greater complaisance, I hope, than I can feel in\nreciting them. For prudent judges are wont to judge finished works by\na somewhat severe standard, but are far more complaisant to\nimprovisations. For you weigh and examine all that is actually\nwritten, but in the case of extempore speaking pardon and criticism go\nhand in hand, as it is right they should. For what we read forth from\nmanuscript will remain such as it was when set down, even though you\nsay nothing, but those words which I must utter now and the travail of\nwhose birth you must share with me, will be just such as your favour\nshall make them. For the more I modify my style to suit your taste,\nthe more I shall please you.[64] I see that you hear me gladly. From\nthis moment it lies with you to furl or spread my sails, that they\nhang not slack and drooping nor be reefed and brailed.\n\n[Footnote 64: _modificabor, tanto a vobis in maius tolletur._ So all\neditions before Van der Vliet. The words _tanto ... tolletur_ have no\nMS. support, but some such insertion is necessary for the sense.]\n\nI will try to apply the saying of Aristippus. Aristippus was the\nfounder of the Cyrenaic school of philosophy and was a disciple of\nSocrates--a fact which he regarded as the greater honour of the two. A\ncertain tyrant asked him what benefit he had derived from so long and\nso devoted a study of philosophy. 'It has given me the power,' replied\nAristippus, 'to converse with all men without fear or concern.'\n\nMy speech has begun with a certain abruptness of expression due to the\nsuddenness with which the subject suggested itself to me. It is as\nthough I were building a loose wall in which one must be content to\npile the stones haphazard without filling the interior with rubble,\nlevelling the front, or making all lines true to rule. For in building\nup this speech I shall not bring stones from my own quarry, hewn\nfoursquare and planed on all sides with their outer edge cut smooth\nand level, so that the nail slips lightly over it. No! at every point\nI must fit in material that is rough and uneven, or slippery and\nsmooth, or jagged, projecting and angular, or round and rolling. There\nwill be no correction by rule, no measure or proportion, no attention\nto the perpendicular. For it is impossible to produce a thing on the\nspur of the moment and to give it careful consideration, nor is there\nanything in the world that can hope at one and the same time to be\npraised for its care and admired for its speed.\n\n\n_The fable of the fox and the crow._\n\n25. I have complied with the desire of certain persons who just now\nbegged me to speak extempore. But, by Hercules, I fear that I may\nsuffer the fate that befell the crow in Aesop's fable: namely, that in\nthe attempt to win this new species of glory I may lose the little I\nhave already acquired. What is this parable, you ask me? I will gladly\nturn fabulist for awhile. A crow and a fox caught sight of a morsel of\nfood at the same moment and hurried to seize it. Their greed was\nequal, but their speed was not. Reynard ran, but the crow flew, with\nthe result that the bird was too quick for the quadruped, sailed down\nthe wind on extended pinions, outstripped and forestalled him. Then,\nrejoicing at his victory in the race for the booty, the crow flew into\na neighbouring oak and sat out of reach on the topmost bough. The fox\nbeing unable to hurl a stone, launched a trick at him and reached him.\nFor coming up to the foot of the tree, he stopped there, and seeing\nthe robber high above him exulting in his booty, began to praise him\nwith cunning words. 'Fool that I was thus vainly to contend with\nApollo's bird! For his body is exquisitely proportioned, neither\nexceeding small nor yet too large, but just of the size demanded by\nuse and beauty; his plumage is soft, his head sharp and fine, his beak\nstrong. Nay, more, he has wings with which to follow, keen eyes with\nwhich to see, and claws with which to seize his prey. As for his\ncolour, what can I say? There are two transcendent hues, the blackness\nof pitch and the whiteness of snow, the colours that distinguish night\nand day. Both of these hues Apollo has given to the birds he loves,\nwhite to the swan and black to the crow. Would he had given the latter\na voice like the sweet song he has conferred upon the swan, that so\nfair a bird, so far excelling all the fowls of the air, might not\nlive, as now he lives, voiceless, the darling of the god of eloquence,\nbut himself mute and tongueless.' When the crow heard that, though\npossessed of so many qualities, there yet lacked this one, he was\nseized with a desire to utter as loud a cry as possible, that the swan\nmight not have the advantage of him in this respect at any rate, and\nforgetting the morsel which he held in his beak, he opened his mouth\nto its widest extent, and thus lost by his song what his wings had won\nhim, while the fox recovered by craft what his feet had lost him. Let\nus reduce this fable to the smallest number of words possible. The\ncrow, to prove himself musical--for the fox pretended that this, the\nabsence of a voice, was the sole slur on such exquisite beauty--began\nto croak, and delivered over the spoil which he carried in his mouth\nto the enemy who had thus ensnared him.\n\n\n_A transition from Greek to Latin._\n\n26. I have known for a long time what it is your demonstrations\ndemand: namely, that I should deal with the rest of my material in\nLatin. For I remember that at the very beginning, when you were\ndivided in opinion, I promised that neither party among you, neither\nthose who insisted on Greek nor those who insisted on Latin, should go\naway without hearing the language he desired. Wherefore, if it seems\ngood to you, let us consider that my speech has been Attic long\nenough. It is time to migrate from Greece to Latium. For we are now\nalmost half through our inquiry and, as far as I can see, the second\nhalf does not yield to the first part which I have delivered in Greek.\nIt is as strong in argument, as full of epigram, as rich in\nillustration and as admirable in style.\n\n\n\n\nNOTES\n\n\nTHE APOLOGIA\n\nCHAPTER 1. _Claudius Maximus_, proconsul of Africa, is spoken of as\nhaving succeeded Lollianus Avitus. Lollianus Avitus was consul in 144\nA.D. As ten to thirteen years usually elapsed between tenure of the\nconsulate and proconsulate, Lollianus Avitus may have been proconsul\n154-7 A.D., and Claudius Maximus 155-8 A.D.\n\n_gentlemen who sit beside him on the bench._ The governor of the\nprovince, when holding his assize, would be assisted by a _consilium_\nof assessors drawn partly from his staff, partly from the local\n_conventus civium Romanorum_.\n\n_Granii._ Nothing is known of this suit. Granii are mentioned as\nconnexions of Lollius Urbicus (C.I.L. viii. 6705).\n\nCHAPTER 2. _Lollius Urbicus_ is described a few lines lower down as\n_praefectus urbi_, which is borne out by an inscription (C.I.L. vi.\n28). The lawsuit of Aemilianus must therefore have been heard at Rome.\nThe explanation of the words _quam quidem vocem_, &c., which follow,\nimply that Lollius was now in Numidia. This is possible enough since\nan inscription (C.I.L. viii. 6705) proves him to have been a native of\nTiddis in Numidia. The _praefectus urbi_ was assisted by a\n_consilium_, not by _iudices_. Here the members of the _consilium_ are\ndescribed as _consulares_. [Cp. Karlowa, Roem. Rechtgesch., p. 551.]\n\nCHAPTER 4. _not merely in Latin but also in Greek._ Cp. Florida,\nchaps. 18 and 26.\n\n_Tannonius Pudens_, an advocatus of the accusers and, presumably, a\nrelative.\n\n_Homer_, sc. Il. iii. 65.\n\n_Pythagoras_, inventor of the term [Greek: philosophia]; cp. Diog.\nLaert. i, proem. 12. He was a native of Samos and migrated to Croton.\nSee Florida, chap. 15. Floruit circa 530 B.C.\n\n_Zeno_ of Velia or Elea in Lucania was the founder of dialectic.\nFloruit circa 450 B.C.\n\n_self inconsistency._ The phrase _argumenta ambifariam dissolvere_ is\nvery obscure. I am indebted to Professor Cook Wilson for the following\nnote. 'A comparison of the passage with the captious argument of\nProtagoras (Florida, chap. 17, _ambifariam proposuit_), which is in\nthe form of a dilemma, might suggest that _ambifariam_ in both places\nmeans \"by dilemma\". But this is not a natural way of describing the\nmethod of Zeno. The characteristic of his philosophy was, according to\ntradition, that he tried to prove the thesis of Parmenides negatively\nby disproving the hypothesis contradictory to it. The disproof\nconsisted in showing that the hypothesis in question involved a\ncontradiction. If, therefore, _ambifariam_ means \"by dilemma\" it would\nappear that Apuleius did not understand the true characteristic of\nZeno's method; for _dissolvere_ should refer to Zeno's method of\ndisproof, which is not properly called dilemma.\n\n'But perhaps it is not necessary to assume such a mistake on the part\nof Apuleius. _Ambifariam_ may mean \"ambiguously\" in the sense of\ninvolving both sides of a contradiction (i.e. both of two\ncontradictory propositions). This would suit the Protagoras passage\nwell, for the argument, as the context shows, involves a\ncontradiction. Zeno's argumentation also could be correctly described\nas _ambifariam dissolvere_, because he refuted the thesis opposed to\nthat of Parmenides by showing that it involves a contradiction. Then\nthe meaning of the passage would be that Zeno's cleverness\n(_sollertissimum artificium_) lay in the use of the _reductio ad\nabsurdum_ argument. In that case the translation would be as given in\nthe text.' I find a confirmation of Professor Cook Wilson's view in\nthe following line, cited from Timon of Phlius by Diog. Laert. ix. v.\n2, where the word [Greek: amphoteroglossos] is used with reference to\nZeno's methods of argument, sc. [Greek: amphoteroglossou te mega\nsthenos ouk alapadnon].\n\n_Plato_, sc. Parmenides, 127_b_.\n\n_capital charge._ There is an untranslatable pun here, _capitalis_\nbearing the double meaning 'capital' and 'pertaining to the head'.\n\nCHAPTER 5. _Statius Caecilius_, one of the most famous writers of\ncomedy. He died 168 B.C.\n\nCHAPTER 6. _tooth-powder_, clearly a magical compound according to the\naccusers.\n\n_Catullus_, sc. xxxix. 17-21.\n\nCHAPTER 7. _the barrier of the teeth._ Homer, Odyss. i. 64.\n\nCHAPTER 8. _the crocodile._ See Herodotus ii. 68.\n\nCHAPTER 9. _Teian_, sc. Anacreon, circa 520 B.C.\n\n_Lacedaemonian_, sc. Alcman, circa 650 B.C.\n\n_Cean_, sc. Simonides, circa 520 B.C.\n\n_Lesbian_, sc. Sappho, circa 600 B.C.\n\n_Aedituus_, _Porcius_, _Catulus_, erotic epigrammatists of the\nRepublican period, 130-100 B.C. The latter was Marius' colleague in\nthe Cimbrian wars.\n\n_Solon._ The line ascribed to Solon is almost too gross in the\noriginal to be genuine.\n\n_Diogenes_, the founder of the Cynic school (died 324 B.C.), wrote\n'concerning marriage and the begetting of children' in an erotic\nfashion. Diog. Laert. vi. 2. 12.\n\n_Zeno_ of Citium, founder of the Stoic school (died 264 B.C.), wrote\nan 'art of love'. Diog. Laert. vii. 21. 29.\n\nCHAPTER 10. _Ticidas_, an erotic poet, contemporary with Catullus and,\nlike him, belonging to the Alexandrian school.\n\n_Lucilius_, the first of Rome's great satirists (148-103 B.C.),\nfamous for the extraordinary vigour with which he lashed the vices of\nthe age. The allusion in the present passage is unknown, though a\nfragment is preserved containing the name of Macedo and possibly also\nof Gentius (cp. Baehrens, Fragm. Poet. Rom., p. 168).\n\n_the Mantuan poet._ Vergil, Ecl. ii.\n\n_Serranus_, the cognomen of Atilius Regulus, consul 257 B.C., the\nfamous Regulus of the first Punic war.\n\n_Curius_ Dentatus, thrice consul, and victor over the Samnites and\nPyrrhus.\n\n_Fabricius_, general in the war against Pyrrhus. Consul in 282 and 278\nB.C. These three great soldiers were selected as types of Roman\nvirtue. Cp. Verg. Aen. vi. 485.\n\n_Dion_, brother-in-law and son-in-law of Dionysius II, tyrant of\nSyracuse, the friend and pupil of Plato, and for a brief space tyrant\nof Syracuse.\n\nCHAPTER 11. _Catullus_ xvi. 5.\n\n_Hadrian_, Emperor, 117-138 A.D.\n\n_Voconius_, mentioned here only.\n\nCHAPTER 12. _Venus is not one goddess but two._ For this doctrine see\nPlato's Symposium, p. 181.\n\n_Afranius_, the most famous writer of purely Roman comedy (_fabulae\ntogatae_), floruit circa 110 B.C.\n\nCHAPTER 13. _Ennius_ (239-169 B.C.), the 'father of Roman Poetry'. Cp.\nCic. de Or. ii. 156 'ac sic decrevi philosophari potius ut Neoptolemus\napud Ennium \"paucis: nam omnino haud placet\"'.\n\n_the mirror_, clearly regarded by the accusers, though Apuleius does\nnot say so, as a magical instrument.\n\nCHAPTER 15. _The Lacedaemonian Agesilaus_, the greatest of the Spartan\nkings, 440-360 B.C. Cp. Cic. ad Fam. v. 12.\n\n_Socrates._ Cp. Diog. Laert. ii. 5, 33.\n\n_Demosthenes_ and _Plato_. Cp. Quint. xii. 2. 22 and 10. 23.\n\n_Eubulides_, a sophist of Miletus. Cp. Diog. Laert. ii. 10. 4.\n\n_the orator when he wrangles_, &c. The pun on _iurgari_, 'wrangles,'\nand _obiurgari_, 'rebukes,' can scarcely be reproduced. 'Disproves'\nand 'disapproves' would weaken the translation.\n\n_Epicurus_ of Samos, born 342 B.C. For his views on vision cp. Lucret.\niv. 156, on mirrors, 293.\n\n_Plato._ Cp. Timaeus, p. 46 A, 'Within the eyes they (the gods)\nplanted that variety of fire which does not burn, but it is called\nlight homogeneous with the light without. We are enabled to see in the\ndaytime, because the light within our eyes pours out through the\ncentre of them and commingles with the light without. The two being\nthus confounded together transmit movements from every object they\ntouch through the eye inward to the soul, and thus bring about the\nsensation of the sight.' Grote's Plato iii. 265.\n\n_Archytas_ of Tarentum, a Pythagorean (circa 400 B.C.). _The\nStoics_--believed that sight consisted in a refined fluid or visual\neffluence proceeding from the central intelligence through the eyes.\n'In the process of seeing, the [Greek: horatikon pneuma] (visual\neffluence) coming into the eyes from the [Greek: hegemonikon] (central\nintelligence) gives a spherical form to the air before the eye by\nvirtue of its [Greek: tonike kinesis] (i.e. the tension it sets up),\nand by means of the sphere of air comes in contact with things; and\nsince by this process rays of light emanate from the eye, darkness\nmust be visible.' Zeller, The Stoics, Epicureans, and Sceptics, p.\n209, note. Cp. Plut. Plac. Phil. iv. 15.\n\nCHAPTER 16. _two rival images of the sun._ Apparently an allusion to\nthe phenomenon of mock suns. Archimedes had, according to Apuleius,\ntreated of the rainbow and the mock sun in connexion with his\nresearches into mirrors.\n\nCHAPTER 17. _Marcus Antonius_, the orator, born 143 B.C., Consul 99\nB.C.\n\n_Carbo_, consul 85-82 B.C., one of the leaders of the Marian party\nand the chief opponent of Sulla after Marius' death.\n\n_Manius Curius._ See note on chap. 10.\n\n_Marcus Cato_, consul in 195 B.C., conducted a successful campaign in\nSpain in that and the following year.\n\nCHAPTER 18. _Aristides_, the Athenian statesman and general, surnamed\nthe just, died circa 468 B.C.\n\n_Phocion_, an Athenian general and statesman, born 402 B.C., died 317\nB.C. He was famous for his virtue and his poverty.\n\n_Epaminondas_, the great Theban general who fell at Mantinea, 362 B.C.\nHe was of noble birth but poor.\n\n_Fabricius._ See note on chap. 10.\n\n_Gnaeus Scipio._ Cp. Val. Max. iv. 4. 10. 'In the second Punic war\nGnaeus Scipio wrote to the senate from Spain, begging that he might be\nreplaced in his command. For his daughter was now of marriageable age,\nbut could not be provided with a dowry during his absence from Rome.'\n\n_Publicola_ (_Valerius_), colleague of Brutus in the consulship in the\nfirst year of the Republic.\n\n_Agrippa_, Menenius, consul 503 B.C., mediator between the _plebs_ and\nthe nobles in 493 B.C., in which year he died.\n\n_Atilius Regulus._ See note on _Serranus_, chap. 10.\n\nCHAPTER 20. _Philus_, a sceptical academician, one of the circle of\nScipio Africanus the younger.\n\n_Laelius_, the intimate friend of the younger Africanus.\n\n_Crassus_, the famous financier, triumvir with Caesar and Pompey.\n\nCHAPTER 22. _Crates._ See Florida 14 for some account of him. The rest\nof the poem on his wallet is preserved by Diog. Laert. vi. 5. 1, but\nis scarcely worth quoting.\n\n_Antisthenes_, the founder of the Cynic school of philosophy,\nflourished circa 366 B.C. He was the teacher of Diogenes.\n\nCHAPTER 24. _Lollianus Avitus._ See note on Claudius Maximus, chap.\n1.\n\n_Anacharsis_, a Scythian prince who travelled far in search of\nknowledge. He came to Athens in the time of Solon and created a great\nimpression by his wisdom.\n\n_Meletides_ (or more properly Melitides) was an Athenian of proverbial\nstupidity, whose name was synonymous for blockhead. Eustathius on\nOdyss. x. 552, says that he could not count above five or distinguish\nbetween his father and mother!\n\n_Syphax_, king of the Massaesyli in W. Numidia, fought for the\nCarthaginians during the second Punic war, and was finally defeated\nand captured by Scipio in 203 B.C. After his fall _Masinissa_, King of\nthe Massyli, was left supreme in Numidia.\n\n_duumvir._ The chief magistrates in a _colonia_ were styled _duumviri\niure dicundo_.\n\n_the dignity of my position._ This is generally interpreted as meaning\nthat Apuleius himself had become _duumvir_. It is more likely,\nconsidering his age and his continued absences from Madaura, that it\nmeans merely the position acquired for him by his father's\ndistinguished office.\n\nCHAPTER 25. _Magician is the Persian word for priest._ 'The name\n_magi_ applied to all workers of miracles, strictly designates the\npriests of Mazdeism, and well-attested tradition made certain Persians\nthe inventors of genuine magic, the magic which the Middle Ages styled\nthe black art. If they did not invent it, for it is as old as\nhumanity, they were at least the first to give magic a doctrinal basis\nand to assign it a place in a well-defined theological system.... By\nthe Alexandrian period, books attributed to Zoroaster, Hostanes, and\nHystaspes were translated into Greek.' Cumont, Les Religions\nOrientales dans le Paganisme Romain, p. 227. Cp. Pliny, N.H. xxx. 7.\n_Plato_, Alcibiades i. 121 E.\n\n_Zoroaster, son of Oromazes_, the founder of the ancient religion of\nPersia (Mazdeism).\n\nCHAPTER 26. _Plato._ The allusion is to Charmides, p. 157 A. Socrates\noffers Charmides a charm to cure the headache. But the charm will do\nmore than cure the headache. 'I learnt it, when serving with the army,\nof one of the physicians of the Thracian King Zamolxis. He was one of\nthose who are said to give immortality. This Thracian said to me ...\n\"Zamolxis, our king, who is also a god, says that as you ought not to\nattempt to cure the eyes without the head or the head without the\neyes, so neither ought you to attempt to cure the body without the\nsoul,\" ... \"For all good and evil, whether in the body or in human\nnature, originates, as he declared, in the soul, and overflows from\nthence, as from the head into the eyes. And therefore if the head and\nbody are to be well, you must begin by curing the soul; that is the\nfirst thing. And the cure has to be effected by the use of certain\ncharms, _and these charms are fair words_; and by them temperance is\nimplanted in the soul, and where temperance is, there health is\nspeedily implanted, not only to the head, but to the whole body.\"'\n(Jowett's Translation.) Apuleius scarcely makes a fair use of Plato's\nwords, which he has so far detached from their context as to give them\nalmost entirely a new meaning.\n\n_Zamolxis_, probably an indigenous deity of the Getae. Greek legend\nmade him a Getan slave of Pythagoras, who on manumission went home,\nbecame priest of the chief deity of the Getae, and taught the\nPythagorean doctrine of the immortality of the soul.\n\nCHAPTER 27. _Anaxagoras_ of Clazomenae, born about 499 B.C. He came to\nAthens and had great influence there, being the friend of Pericles and\nEuripides. He was, however, banished for unorthodoxy and died at\nLampsacus aged 72.\n\n_Leucippus_, the founder of the atomic theory. His exact date and\nplace of birth are uncertain.\n\n_Democritus_ of Abdera, born about 450 B.C. He developed the atomic\ntheory of Leucippus.\n\n_Epicurus_, like Democritus and Leucippus, maintained the atomic\ntheory. Cp. note on chap. 15.\n\n_Epimenides_, a seer and prophet of Crete who purified Athens of the\nplague with which she was afflicted in consequence of the crime of\nCylon, circa 596 B.C.\n\n_Ostanes_, or Hostanes, a famous semi-fabulous magician of Persia.\n\n_the 'purifications' of Empedocles._ Empedocles of Agrigentum\n(flourished circa 450 B.C.) wrote a poem of 3,000 lines, entitled\n'purifications' ([Greek: katharmoi]). In this he recommended good\nmoral conduct as a means of averting epidemics and other evils. But as\na fragment quoted by Diog. Laert. viii. 59, shows, he claimed also to\nhave power over the winds.\n\n_the 'demon' of Socrates_, the divine sign or voice [Greek:\ndaimonion], which is represented by Socrates as having guided his\nactions, is never spoken of by him in terms that would lead us to\nsuppose that he regarded it as a familiar spirit, though it is so\ntreated by later writers (e.g. Plutarch, de genio Socratis, and\nApuleius, de deo Socratis).\n\n_the 'good' of Plato._ The reference is probably to the identification\nof [Greek: to agathon] with the [Greek: demiourgos] the creator spoken\nof in the Timaeus.\n\nCHAPTER 30. _Vergil._ Cp. Ecl. viii. 64-82. Aen. iv. 513-16.\n\n_the wondrous talisman._ The allusion is to the _hippomanes_ or growth\nsaid to be found on the forehead of a new-born foal. Unless the mother\nwas prevented she devoured it.\n\n_Theocritus_, sc. Id. ii.\n\n_Homer_, e.g. the adventures with Circe.\n\n_Orpheus._ See the Orphica (Abel), _Fr._ 172; Argonaut. 955 sqq.\nLithica 172 sqq.\n\n_Laevius._ The MSS. give Laelius. But no poet Laelius is known. There\nwas, however, a poet _Laevius_ at the beginning of the first century\nB.C.\n\n_the lover's knot._ The Latin is _antipathes_, explained by Abt\n(Apologie des Apuleius, p. 103) as _quod mutuum affectum provocat_.\n\n_the magic wheel_ spun rapidly to draw the beloved to the lover. Cp.\nTheocr. ii. 30. 'And as this brazen wheel spins, so may Delphis be\nspun by Aphrodite to my door.'\n\n_nails._ Portions of the beloved were valuable ingredients in charms.\nCp. Apul. Metamorph. bk. iii, 16, 17, where hair from the beloved's\nhead is required.\n\n_ribbons_ used as fillets during the ritual. Cp. chap. 30, 'soft\ngarlands.'\n\n_the two-tailed lizard._ Theocr. ii. 57, testifies to the use of the\nlizard as a love charm. A magic papyrus from Egypt (Griffiths\nThompson, col. xiii (23), p. 97) mentions a two-tailed lizard as an\ningredient in a charm to cause death.\n\n_the charm that glads_, &c., sc. _hippomanes_; see note on preceding\npage.\n\nCHAPTER 31. _Homer._ Iliad xi. 741. Odyssey iv. 229.\n\n_Proteus._ Odyssey iv. 364.\n\n_Ulysses._ Odyssey xi. 25.\n\n_Aeolus._ Odyssey x. 19.\n\n_Helen._ Odyssey iv. 59.\n\n_Circe._ Odyssey x. 234.\n\n_Venus._ Iliad xiv. 214.\n\n_Mercury._ Cp. the magic hymn contained in a magical papyrus (Papyr.\nLond. 46. 414). 'Thou art told of as foreknower of the fates and as\nthe godlike dream sending oracles both by day and night.'\n\n_Trivia_ = Hecate.\n\n_Salacia_, a Roman sea-goddess, the wife of Neptune.\n\n_Portumnus_, the Roman harbour-god.\n\nCHAPTER 32. _Menelaus._ Hom. Odyss. iv. 368.\n\nCHAPTER 35. _A shell for the making of a will._ The pun _testa ad\ntestamentum_ cannot be reproduced in English.\n\n_seaweed for an ague._ Here again there is an untranslatable jest.\n_Alga_ (seaweed) suggests _algere_, 'to be cold,' one of the symptoms\nof the ague (_querceram_).\n\nCHAPTER 36. _Theophrastus_ of Eresus, the favourite pupil of\nAristotle.\n\n_Eudemus_ of Rhodes, also a disciple of Aristotle.\n\n_Lycon_ of Troas, a distinguished Peripatetic philosopher (floruit\ncirca 272 B.C.).\n\nCHAPTER 39. _Quintus Ennius_, 239-169 B.C. The lines which follow are\nall that survive of the Hedyphagetica. They seem to be closely\nimitated from the Gastronomia of Archestratus quoted by Athenaeus iii,\npp. 92. 300. 318. There is great uncertainty as to the text, and but\nfew of the fish mentioned can be identified with any certainty.\n\nCHAPTER 40. _Homer._ Odyssey xix. 456.\n\nCHAPTER 41. _And yet it is a greater crime_, &c. An allusion to the\nvegetarianism of the Pythagoreans and others.\n\n_Nicander_ of Colophon, an Alexandrian didactic poet. The [Greek:\ntheriaka] survives, is over 1,000 lines long, and deals with the bites\nof wild beasts.\n\n_Plato._ The words are not actually found in Plato's extant works;\nApuleius is probably slightly misquoting Timaeus 59_c_.\n\nCHAPTER 42. _Varro_ (Marcus Terentius), 116-28 B.C. The most learned\nand voluminous of Roman authors.\n\n_an image of Mercury._ Clearly the reference is to some such practice\nas that of 'screeing' in the ink-pool. Cp. Kinglake, Eothen, chap. 18.\n\n_Cato_ (the famous Marcus Cato, see chap. 17, note) was priest of\nApollo and received offerings to the god.\n\nCHAPTER 43. _Plato._ Sympos. 202, where [Greek: daimones] are spoken\nof as powers 'which interpret and convey to the gods the prayers and\nsacrifices of men and to men the commands and rewards of gods.' Also\ncp. de deo Socratis, chap. 6.\n\n_fair and unblemished of body._ Beauty and virginity are insisted on\nin various passages in the magical papyri (see Abt op. cit., p. 185)\nas necessary in the boy through whom the god is to speak. Cp. also\nBenvenuto Cellini's Autobiography (Symond's Translation, p. 126, ed.\n1901).\n\n_Pythagoras._ 'I think also it was said by the Pythagoreans respecting\nthose who teach for the sake of reward, that they show themselves to\nbe worse than statuaries or those artists who perform their work\nsitting. For these, when some one orders them to make a statue of\nHermes, search for wood adapted to the reception of the proper form;\nbut those pretend that they can readily produce the works of virtue\nfrom every nature.' Iamblichus, Life of Pythagoras, chap. 34 (Taylor's\nTranslation).\n\nCHAPTER 44. _as might fairly be produced at a sacrifice_, &c. The\ndivination is preceded by sacrifice just as in Benvenuto Cellini (loc.\ncit.) the sorcerer first burns incense. The head is touched as being\nthe source from which the oracle is to proceed (_arx et regia_, chap.\n50). The clean robe is necessary, to ritual purity and is mentioned\nmore than once in the magic papyri.\n\nCHAPTER 45. _Gagates_ is, according to Pliny, N.H. xxxvi. 141, 2, a\nblack smooth stone, resembling pumice. It is light and fragile and\ndiffers but little from wood. When powdered it emits a strong odour;\nwhen burned it smells sulphurous, and, wonderful to relate, it is\nkindled by water and extinguished by oil.\n\nCHAPTER 47. _Twelve Tables._ In this, the earliest Roman code,\npunishment was imposed on any person _qui fruges excantassit_, or _qui\nmalum carmen incantassit_. Pliny, N.H. xxviii. 2. 17.\n\n_Quindecimvirs._ The _quindecimviri sacris faciundis_ were priests of\nApollo and had charge of the Sibylline books.\n\nCHAPTER 49. _The Timaeus_, pp. 82-6.\n\nThe _three powers that make up the soul_ are those mentioned in the\nTimaeus, 35 sqq., i.e. _Same_, _Other_, and _Essence_.\n\nCHAPTER 50. _The Comitial sickness_, so called because, if a case of\nepilepsy occurred during the meeting of the _comitia_, the assembly\nwas immediately broken up.\n\nCHAPTER 51. _The Problems._ Aristot. Fr. ed. Rose, p. 181.\n\n_Theophrastus_, cp. fragm. 175_w_. Diog. Laert. v. 2. 13.\n\nCHAPTER 52. _Thallus contracts his hands_, &c. 'Thallus manus\ncontrahit, tu patronos.' The pun is (_a_) bad and (_b_) untranslatable\ninto reasonably good English. The literal meaning is 'Thallus\ncontracts his hands, you collect advocates'.\n\nCHAPTER 55. _The comrades of Ulysses_, &c. Odyss. x. 28-55.\n\n_Aesculapius._ Cp. Florida 18.\n\n_the mysteries of father Liber._ The mysterious object is probably the\nmystic casket (_cista_) containing the [Greek: phallos], emblem of\nfertility.\n\nCHAPTER 56. _The followers of Orpheus and Pythagoras_ abstained from\nthe slaying of animals for the service of man. Cp. Herodotus ii. 81.\n\n_Mezentius._ Cp. Verg. Aen. vii. 647 'contemptor divom'.\n\nCHAPTER 57. _Ulysses._ Odyss i. 58.\n\nCHAPTER 62. _High and low through all the town._ The pun on _oppido_,\n'exceedingly,' and _oppido_, 'town,' does not admit of reproduction.\n\nCHAPTER 64. _The Phaedrus_, 247. 'For the immortal souls, when they\nare at the end of their course, go out and stand upon the back of\nheaven, and the revolution of the spheres carries them round and they\nbehold the world beyond. Now of the heaven which is above the heavens,\nno earthly poet has sung or ever will sing in a worthy manner. But I\nmust tell, for I am bound to speak truly when speaking of the truth.\nThe colourless and formless and intangible essence is visible to the\nmind, which is the only lord of the soul. Circling around this in the\nregion above the heavens is the place of true knowledge.' (Jowett's\nTranslation).\n\n_The King._ The passage quoted is from Plato, Epist. ii, p. 312 (403).\nIt goes on to say 'and he is the cause of all things that are\nbeautiful'. Compare the [Greek: nous basileus] identified with the\ncosmic soul in the Philebus 29E-30A.\n\nCHAPTER 65. _The Laws_, pp. 955, 6. It is possible that [Greek:\nmonoxylon] may mean 'of one wood only'.\n\nCHAPTER 66. _Marcus Antonius_, _Cnaeus Carbo_, &c. Of these _causes\ncelebres_ nothing is known worthy of mention here. Apuleius errs in\nsaying that Mucius accused Albucius. As a matter of fact Albucius\naccused Mucius on the ground of extortion. Cp. Cic. Brut. 26. 102. For\nthe suit between Metellus and Curio cp. Ascon. in Cornel. 63. Cnaeus\nNorbanus should probably be Caius Norbanus, and Caius Furius, Lucius\nFufius. Cp. Cic. de Off. ii. 14. 49, de Or. ii. 21. 89, and Cic. Brut.\n62. 222, de Off. ii. 14. 50.\n\nCHAPTER 73. _A discourse in public._ Fragments of such discourses are\nto be found in the Florida.\n\nCHAPTER 75. _His gold rings._ By the time of Hadrian the wearing of a\ngold ring (_ius anuli aurei_) was no more than a sign of free birth,\nand the only privilege conferred was that of obtaining office. See\n_Anulus_, Dict. Ant.\n\nCHAPTER 78. _When you dance in those characters._ Tragedy proper had\nbeen replaced on the Roman stage by the _saltica fabula_, in which the\n_pantomimus_ executed a mimetic dance illustrating a libretto sung by\na chorus.\n\nCHAPTER 81. _Palamedes_ was famous for having detected the pretended\nmadness of Ulysses, by which he sought to avoid going upon the\nexpedition to Troy. Ulysses was ploughing and Palamedes placed the\ninfant Telemachus in front of the ploughshare. Ulysses revealed his\nsanity by stopping the plough.\n\n_Sisyphus_, King of Corinth, was famous as a master of all manner of\ndeceit, outwitting even the arch-thief Autolycus. He was finally cast\ninto Tartarus for having discovered the amour of Zeus with the nymph\nAegina.\n\n_Eurybates_ (or Eurybatus) coupled with Phrynondas by Plato\n(Protagoras 327). He was an Ephesian sent by Croesus to Greece with a\nlarge sum of money to hire mercenaries. He betrayed his trust and went\nover to Cyrus.\n\n_Phrynondas_, a stranger (probably a Boeotian) who lived at Athens\nduring the Peloponnesian war and became proverbial as a scoundrel.\n\n_clowns and pantaloons._ _Maccus_ and _Bucco_ were stock characters in\nthe Atellan farce.\n\nCHAPTER 85. _The viper._ This superstition arises from the fact that\nthe viper does not lay eggs, but is viviparous.\n\n_a well-known line._ The author is unknown.\n\nCHAPTER 87. _Quite at home in Greek._ See note on chap. 4.\n\nCHAPTER 88. _The line so well known in comedy._ The reading nearest to\nthe MSS. would be [Greek: paidon ep' apoto, gnesion epi spora] (Van\nder Vliet). Unless, however, the phrase [Greek: paidon ep' apoto\ngnesion] is a stock phrase which occurred in more than one comedy,\nwhich might perhaps be argued from the plural _comoediis_, there can\nbe no doubt that the words [Greek: epi spora] are interpolated,\ninasmuch as the line occurs in the fragment of the [Greek:\nperikeiromene] of Menander, discovered at Oxyrhynchus by Drs.\nGreenfell and Hunt (Ox. Pap. ii, No. 211, p. 11 sqq.), and runs as\nfollows\n\n                 [Greek: tauten gnesion\n     paidon ep' apoto soi didomi. Pol. lambano].\n\n_Serranus._ See note on chap. 10.\n\nCHAPTER 89. _Multiplying by four._ The pun in the word _quadruplator_\ncannot be reproduced in English. The name was given to a public\ninformer who sued for a fourfold penalty.\n\n_a slip in the gesture._ Bede (Op. Colon., MDCXII, vol. i, p. 132 _b_)\nsays, 'When you say ten, you will place the nail of the forefinger\nagainst the middle joint of the thumb, when you say thirty, you will\njoin the nails of thumb and forefinger in a gentle embrace.' Here the\nMSS. read _adperisse_, which suggests _aperuisse_. But _aperuisse_\ndoes not naturally express the gesture described by Bede, and Helm's\nemendation _adgessisse_ seems necessary.\n\nCHAPTER 90. _Carmendas_, _Damigeron_, &c. _Carmendas_ is unknown.\n_Damigeron_ is mentioned elsewhere as a magician (Tertull. de Anima,\n57), but nothing is known of him. _Moses_ appears as a magician in the\nmagical papyri (Griffiths Thompson pap. col. v, p. 47 (13)). The\nmiracles wrought by Moses in Egypt sufficiently account for this.\n_Jannes_, one of the Egyptian magicians worsted by Moses. Cp. Epistle\nto Timothy ii. 3. 8. _Apollobex_, a magician named _Apollobeches_ is\nmentioned by Pliny, N.H. xxx. 9, as also is _Dardanus_. For _Ostanes_\nand _Zoroaster_ see chaps. 25 and 27, notes.\n\nCHAPTER 95. _Cato_, the earliest of the great orators of Rome: for his\nexcellences see Cicero, Brutus, 65 sqq. (Cp. note on chap. 17).\n\n_Laelius_, see note on chap. 20. Cicero selects _lenitas_ as the chief\ncharacteristic of his style (de Orat. iii. 7. 28).\n\n_Gracchus_ (Caius Sempronius) was famous for the fire of his oratory\n(cp. Cic. Brut. 125, 126, de Orat. iii. 56. 214).\n\n_Caesar_ is generally praised chiefly for _elegantia_ in his oratory,\nrather than for his warmth (cp. Cic. Brut. 252, 261, Quint. x. 1.\n114).\n\n_Hortensius_, Cicero's chief rival: a master of the Asiatic style (cp.\nCic. Brut. 228, 9. 302, 3. 325-8).\n\n_Calvus_, a contemporary of Cicero. One of the chief representatives\nof the Attic style (cp. Cic. Brut. 283).\n\n_Sallust_, the famous historian.\n\nCHAPTER 98. _The garb of manhood._ He had already assumed the _toga\nvirilis_, cp. chap. 88. This must be taken metaphorically = 'You let\nhim behave like a man.'\n\nCHAPTER 101. _He who can plead in court_, &c. There is a play on\n_perorare_ (= to plead in court) and _exorare_ (= to win over his\nmother by prayer).\n\nCHAPTER 102. _What a criminal use of love-philtres_, &c. There is a\npun on _veneficium_ and _beneficium_ which cannot be reproduced.\n\n\nTHE FLORIDA\n\nCHAPTER 2. _Plautus._ Truculentus, ii. 6. 8.\n\n_the great poet._ Homer, Iliad, iii. 12.\n\nCHAPTER 3. _Vergil._ Ecl. iii. 27.\n\nCHAPTER 4. _Antigenidas_, a famous musician of the first half of the\nfourth century B.C. Others attribute the grievance to his pupil\nIsmenias. This story is also told by Dio Chrysostom xlix.\n\nCHAPTER 6. _Nabataea_, a district at the north-east end of the Red\nSea.\n\n_Arsaces_, a king of Persia (perhaps Artaxerxes II, 379 B.C.) from\nwhom the Parthian kings traced their descent. Here _Arsacidae_ =\nParthians.\n\n_Ityraea_, a district under Mount Hermon to the north of Bashan.\n\n_Ganges._ The quotation is from Statius, Silvae, ii. 4. 25.\n\n_wash gold._ Lat. _colare_ = to strain, sift.\n\nCHAPTER 7. _Alexander._ This story of his portraits is told by many\nwriters, though Lysippus is substituted for Polycletus by the more\naccurate, inasmuch as Polycletus was a sculptor of the fifth century,\nand contemporary with Pheidias! This is quite characteristic of\nApuleius.\n\n_Apelles_, the greatest of Greek painters, floruit circa 332 B.C.\n\n_Pyrgoteles_, one of the most famous gem-engravers of Greece. Little\nis known of him beyond this story.\n\n_the professor's gown._ Cp. Aulus Gellius, ix. 2, where a man with a\nlong beard and huge cloak tries to persuade Herodes Atticus that he is\na philosopher. Herodes replies, 'I see the cloak and the gown, but not\nthe philosopher.'\n\nCHAPTER 9. _Hippias of Elis_, one of the early sophists (middle of the\nfifth century B.C.); cp. Plat. Hipp. Min. 368 B.\n\n_the reciter's wand._ It was the custom in Greece for a reciter to\nhold in his hand a wand or [Greek: rhabdos].\n\n_Severianus_, proconsul of Africa between 161 and 169 A.D., as is\nshown by the words _the two Caesars_, M. Aurelius and L. Verus.\n\nCHAPTER 10. _The Sun._ The passage quoted is from some unknown\ntragedy, perhaps a Phoenissae, cp. Eur. Phoen. 1.\n\n_Mercury._ Those born under Mercury had a 'mercurial' disposition,\nthose under Mars a 'martial' temper (cp. _ignita_).\n\n_other divine influences that lie midway._ Cp. note on Apologia, chap.\n43.\n\nCHAPTER 11. _darnel._ The quotation is from Vergil, Georgic i. 154.\nCp. also Ecl. v. 37.\n\nCHAPTER 14. _Crates._ Cp. Florida 22, and Apologia, chap. 22.\n\nCHAPTER 15. _Polycrates_, floruit circa 530 B.C.\n\n_Pythagoras._ See note on Apologia, chap. 4.\n\n_Pherecydes._ See note on Apologia, ch. 27.\n\n_Anaximander_, an Ionian philosopher, born 610 B.C.\n\n_Epimenides._ See note on Apologia, chap. 27.\n\n_Creophylus_, an early epic poet, reputed author of the 'Capture of\nOechalia', which he was said to have received from Homer as the dowry\nof the latter's daughter.\n\n_Leodamas._ Nothing is known of this Leodamas. Apuleius may have made\na slip and written Leodamas for Hermodamas, who is mentioned by Diog.\nLaert. viii. 2, as the descendant of Creophylus.\n\nCHAPTER 16. _Philemon_ was a writer of the 'new', not the 'middle' comedy.\n\n_'farewell' and 'applaud'._ Cp. the well-known epitaph:--'iam mea\nperacta, mox vestra agetur fabula: valete et plaudite.'\n\n_Aemilianus Strabo_ was _consul suffectus_ in 156 A.D. See\nProsopographia imp. Rom. part 3. nr. 674, p. 275.\n\n_while breath still_, &c., from Vergil, Aeneid iv. 336.\n\n_priesthood_ of the province of Africa. See Introduction, p. 12.\n\nCHAPTER 17. _Scipio Orfitus_, proconsul of Africa, 163, 4 A.D. See\nProsopographia imp. Rom. part 1, nr. 1184, p. 464.\n\n_Orpheus to woods_, &c., from Vergil, Eclogue vii. 56.\n\nCHAPTER 18. _the tragic poet._ Unknown.\n\n_Plautus._ Truculentus, prologue 1-3.\n\n_no rose without a thorn._ The Latin is _ubi uber, ibi tuber_.\nWherever you get rich soil, there you will find pignuts.\n\n_the council of Africa_ was theoretically an association for the\nworship of the imperial house. It had some political importance,\nhowever, inasmuch as it might criticize the governor and forward its\ncriticisms to the Emperor at Rome.\n\n_Protagoras_, a famous sophist of Abdera (latter half of fifth\ncentury).\n\n_dilemma._ See note on Apologia, chap. 9, _self-inconsistency_. A\nclosely parallel story is told of Corax and Tisias, rhetoricians\nslightly earlier in date.\n\n_Thales of Miletus_, the first of the great mathematicians and\nphysical philosophers of Greece: one of the seven sages. He flourished\ntowards the end of the seventh century B.C.\n\nCHAPTER 19. _Asclepiades_, a famous physician from Bithynia, of the\nfirst half of the first century B.C.\n\nCHAPTER 20. _The first cup_, &c. The wise author of this saying was,\naccording to Diog. Laert, i. 72, Anacharsis.\n\n_Empedocles._ See note on Apologia, chap. 27.\n\n_Epicharmus_, a famous comic poet of Megara in Sicily. He flourished\nearly in the fifth century B.C.\n\n_Xenocrates._ Diog. Laert. mentions five writers of this name, none of\nthem of any great importance. It is possible that we should read\n_Xenophanes_, who, according to Diog. Laert. ix. 10, wrote _silli_, a\nform of lampoon or satire. He was the founder of the Eleatic school\nand probably flourished about 500 B.C.\n\nCHAPTER 22. _Crates pure and simple_, i.e. by his renunciation of the\nworld described in chap. 15.\n\nCHAPTER 24. The MSS. give this as a prologue to the de deo Socratis.\nIt belongs, however, manifestly to the Florida.\n\n_Aristippus_, founder of the Cyrenaic school, a friend and younger\ncontemporary of Socrates.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOXFORD\nPRINTED AT THE CLARENDON PRESS\nBY HORACE HART, M.A.\nPRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY","title":"The Apologia and Florida of Apuleius of Madaura","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":63532}