Eunapius, Lives of the Philosophers and Sophists

ToposText · Eunapius · 131 sections

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§ 13.1 [517] The author of this work often heard SOPOLIS lecture. He was a man who tried with all his might to reproduce the style of the ancients in his oratory, and did his utmost to reach the level of a saner Muse. But though he knocked diligently at her door, it was seldom opened. Nay, if ever it did creak open a little, it was but a thin and feeble spark of the divine afflatus that slipped forth from within. But at this his audience would grow frenzied with enthusiasm, unable as they were to receive calmly even a single drop squeezed from the fount of Castalia. Sopolis had a son, and they say that he too ascended the professorial chair.
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§ 14.1 HIMERIUS was a native of Bithynia, yet the author never knew him, though he lived in the same period. He travelled to the court of the Emperor Julian to declaim before him, in the hope that he would be regarded with favour on account of the emperor's dislike of Prohaeresius; and when Julian left this world, Himerius spent his time abroad. Then, on the death of Prohaeresius, he hastened to Athens. He was an agreeable and harmonious speaker. His style of composition has the ring and assonance of political oratory. Sometimes, though rarely, he rises as high as the godlike Aristeides. He left a daughter, when he died of epilepsy, a disease which attacked him in extreme old age.
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§ 15.1 PARNASIUS also lived in those days and filled a teacher's chair. His pupils were soon counted, but for all that he did not fail to win a certain reputation.
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§ 16.1 [519] LIBANIUS was born at Antioch, the capital of Coele Syria as it is called. This city was founded by Seleucus surnamed Nicator. Libanius came of a noble family and ranked among the first citizens. While he was still a youth and his own master, since his parents were dead, he came to Athens, and there, though he too came from Syria, he did not attach himself to Epiphanius, who enjoyed the very highest reputation, nor did he attend the school of Prohaeresius. This would have been to run the risk of being obscured, partly by so great a crowd of fellow-pupils, partly by the celebrity of his teachers. But he fell into a trap that was set for him by the pupils of Diophantus, and therefore attached himself to that sophist. It is asserted by those who knew the man intimately that, when he learned what had happened to him, he very seldom attended the lectures and meetings of the school, and gave his master very little trouble. But by himself he devoted his time to the study of rhetoric, and worked very hard to acquire the style of the ancient writers, moulding to that end both his mind and his speech. And even as those who aim at a mark sometimes succeed in hitting it, and their constant practice and regular exercise with their weapons usually begets dexterity in shooting straight rather than scientific knowledge; even so Libanius in his zeal to compare and imitate them was inseparable from the ancient authors,
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§ 521 and so to speak rubbed shoulders with those most excellent guides; and by following the right leaders he trod in the footsteps of the best and reaped the fruits of that course. As he gained confidence in his eloquence and convinced himself that he could rival any that prided themselves on theirs, he resolved not to bury himself in a small town and sink in the esteem of the world to that city's level. Therefore he crossed over to Constantinople, a city which had recently attained to greatness, and, being at the height of her prosperity, needed both deeds and words to adorn her as she deserved. There he very soon became a shining light, since he proved to be an admirable and delightful teacher and his public declamations were full of charm. But a scandalous charge was brought against him in connexion with his pupils. I cannot allow myself to write about it, because I am determined to record in this document only what is worthy to be recorded. For this reason, then, he was expelled from Constantinople, and settled at Nicomedia. When the scandalous tale followed him there and obstinately pursued him, he was soon thrust out of that city also, and after a time he returned to his native land and the city of his birth, and there he spent his whole life, which proved to be long and long drawn out. Though I have composed in my annals of the reign of Julian a fitting account of the career of Libanius, I will now run over it in detail. Not one of all those who associated with him and were
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§ 523 admitted to his teaching left him without being-smitten by his charm. For he knew at first sight every man's character for what it was, and understood the propensities of his soul, whether to vice or virtue. And indeed he was so clever in adapting and assimilating himself to all sorts of men that he made the very polypus look foolish 141; and everyone who talked with him thought to behold in him a second self. At any rate those who had had this experience used to declare that he was a sort of picture or wax impression of all the manifold and various characters of mankind. In a gathering of many men of various sorts one could never have detected who it was that he preferred. Hence those who pursued modes of life directly opposed to one another would applaud in him qualities that were directly opposed, and everyone without exception was convinced that it was his views that Libanius admired; so multiform was he, so completely all things to all men. He too avoided marriage, though in fact a woman lived with him, a person of a social position inferior to his own. His style of eloquence in his declamations was altogether feeble, lifeless, and uninspired, and it is very evident that he had not had the advantage of a teacher; indeed he was ignorant of most of the ordinary rules of declamation, things that even a schoolboy knows. But in his Letters and other familiar addresses he succeeds in rousing himself and rises to the level of the ancient models. His writings are full of charm and facetious wit, while a refined elegance pervades the whole and is at the service of his eloquence.
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§ 525 Moreover the peculiar charm and sweetness that all Syro- Phoenicians display in general intercourse one may safely look for in him, over and above his erudition. I mean that quality which the people of Attica call a keen scent, or urbane wit. This he cultivated as the very flower and crown of true culture; indeed he drew wholly on ancient comedy for his style of expression, and was master of all that shows a pleasing surface and enchants the ear. In his orations you will find the most profound erudition and the widest possible reading. You will meet also with unusual Attic forms and phrases. For example he would not have omitted those “trees” of Eupolis, Laispodias, and Damasias, if he had known the names by which men call the trees nowadays. Whenever he discovered some strange expression which because of its great antiquity had fallen into disuse, he cleansed it as though it were a sacred relic of the past, and when he had brushed off the dust and adorned it afresh he would bring it forth to the light, draped with a whole new theme and appropriate sentiments, like the dainty slaves and handmaids of a mistress who has just come into a fortune and has smoothed and polished away the signs of old age. For these reasons the sainted Julian also admired him, and indeed every man alive admired the charm of his oratory. Very many of his works are in circulation, and any intelligent man who reads them one by one will appreciate that charm. He had also a talent for administering public affairs, and in addition to his formal orations he would confidently undertake and easily compose certain other works more suited to please an audience in the theatre.
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§ 527 When the later emperors offered him the very highest of all honours -- for they bade him use the honorary title of pretorian prefect -- he refused, saving that the title of sophist was more distinguished. And this is indeed not a little to his credit, that though he was a man who longed most ardently for renown, he enslaved himself only to that renown which an orator can win, and held that any other sort is vulgar and sordid. He, too, when he died, had attained to a very great age, and he left in the minds of all men the profoundest admiration for his talents. The present author was not personally acquainted with him, inasmuch as an unkind fate on every occasion put one obstacle or another in the way.
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§ 17.1 [529] ACACIUS was born at Caesarea in Palestine and he dawned on the world about the same time as Libanius. No man was more abundantly endowed with sophistic force and inspiration, and his diction was sonorous and tended to the imitation of the ancient classical models. Having risen to eminence at the same time as Libanius, he overthrew his rival's supremacy, and maintained his superiority by sheer strength. Libanius accordingly wrote an essay On Genius, entirely devoted and dedicated to Acacius, in which he clearly ascribes his defeat by him to the man's great natural talents, while at the same time he gives evidence of his own position and exactitude in the use of erudite words; as though he did not know that Homer did not take pains about every single foot of his verses, but tried rather to secure beauty of expression and melody throughout; that Pheidias never thought of displaying a finger or a foot to win praise for his goddess; that they exercised their tyranny the one over the ears of men, the other over their eyes; and that the cause of their success is undiscoverable or hard to define, just as in fair and lovely bodies not all admire the same points, and the captive of that beauty knows not what it was that took him captive. Thus, then, Acacius quickly rose to the first rank in his profession, and after winning a great reputation as one who would prove to have excelled Libanius, he passed away while still a young man. Yet all men, at least all who truly loved learning, revered him no less than if he had attained to old age.
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§ 18.1 NYMPHIDIANUS was a native of Smyrna, whose own brother was Maximus the philosopher, while Claudianus, himself a very distinguished philosopher, was another brother. He was a man who, though he never shared in the education and training enjoyed at Athens, nevertheless in the art of rhetoric proved himself worthy of the reputation of the sophists. The Emperor Julian entrusted him with the task of expressing the imperial utterances, and made him Imperial Secretary for such letters as were composed in the Greek tongue. He had the greatest skill in the composition of “Meletai,” as they are called, and in handling problems; but he was not so skilful with “Proagones” and philosophical disputations. When he died he was an old man, and he outlived his brother Maximus.
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§ 19.1 [531] In those days many famous physicians flourished, among whom was Zeno of Cyprus, who established a celebrated school of medicine. Nay, he survived down to the time of Julian the sophist, and after him there were contemporaries of Prohaeresius who were the successors of Zeno. He had trained himself in oratory as well as in the practice of medicine. Of his famous pupils some took up one or other of these professions, thus dividing among them what they had learned from him; others again took up both; but whether they inherited his medical practice or his oratory, every one of them prospered mightily.
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§ 20.1 [533] MAGNUS was a native of that Antioch which lies beyond the Euphrates and is now called Nisibis. He had been a pupil of Zeno, and, in order to give force to his rhetoric, he dragged in Aristotle in connexion with the nature of bodies endowed with volition, and so compelled the doctors to keep silence in the matter of rhetoric, but he was thought to be less able as a healer than as an orator. The ancient writers relate that when Archidamus was asked whether he was stronger than Pericles, he replied: “Nay, even when I throw Pericles a fall, he still carries off the victory by declaring that he has not been thrown at all.” In the same way Magnus used to demonstrate that those whom other doctors had cured were still ill. And when those who had been restored to health were endeavouring to express their gratitude to those who had healed them, Magnus still got the better of the doctors in the matter of talking and putting questions. At Alexandria a public school was especially assigned for him to teach in, and everyone sailed thither and attended his lectures, either merely in order to see and admire him or to enjoy the advantages of his teaching. This they never failed to do, for they either acquired the power of facile and fluent speech, or the ability to do and achieve some practical work by their own industry.
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§ 21.1 Pergamon was the birthplace of ORIBASIUS, and in fact this contributed to his renown, just as is the case with those who are born at Athens; for whenever such men win a name for eloquence, the report spreads far and wide that their Muse is Attic and that this paragon is a home product. Oribasius came of a good family on both sides, and from his boyhood he was distinguished because he acquired every kind of learning that conduces to virtue and perfects it. When he reached early manhood he became a pupil of the great Zeno and a fellow-disciple of Magnus. But he outstripped Magnus, and left him wrestling with the task of expressing his ideas, an art in which he himself excelled; and he lost no time in attaining to the first rank in medicine, thereby imitating the patron god of his country, so far as it is possible for a mortal to progress towards the imitation of the divine. Since he won fame even from his earliest youth, Julian, when he was promoted to the rank of Caesar, carried him away with him to practise his art; but he so excelled in every other excellence that he actually made Julian emperor. However, these matters have been more fully described in my account of Julian's reign.
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§ 535 Nevertheless, as the proverb says, “No lark is without a crest,” and so too Oribasius was not without envious enemies. For it was because of his extraordinary celebrity that the emperors who followed Julian deprived him of his property, and they desired to take his life also but shrank from the deed. However, by other means they carried out the crime which they were ashamed to commit openly. For they exposed his person to the barbarians, just as the Athenians ostracized from Athens men whose virtue was above the average. However, in their case the law allowed them to exile men from the state, and there was no further penalty; whereas the emperors added to his exile this abandonment to the most savage barbarians, thus giving them absolute power to carry out their imperial purpose. But Oribasius, after being thrust out into the enemy's country, showed the greatness of his virtue, which could not be limited to this place or that, or circumscribed by the mariners of the people about him, but ever displayed its stability and constancy in independent activity whenever and wherever it showed itself; just as we are told is the case with numbers and mathematical truths. For he forthwith rose to great renown at the courts of the rulers of the barbarians, and held the first rank there; and while throughout the Roman empire he was highly regarded, among the barbarians he was worshipped like a god; since some he restored from chronic diseases and snatched others from death's door. Indeed that which men had reckoned his misfortune proved to be the occasion of nothing but good fortune; so that even the emperors gave up fighting against the man's power so universally displayed, and permitted him to return from exile.
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§ 537 After he had gained permission to return, lord of himself though not of wealth, for the only riches that he had to show were the virtues, he married a wife who came of a family illustrious both for wealth and noble blood. By her he had four children who are still alive; long life to them! He himself, at this time of writing, is alive; long life to him! Nay more, he recovered his original fortune from the public treasury with the consent of the later emperors, on the ground of the injustice of the earlier verdict. Thus and in this wise it stands with him. And any man who is a genuine philosopher can meet and converse with Oribasius, that so he may learn what above all else he ought to admire. Such harmony, such charm radiates from Oribasius and attends on all intercourse with him.
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§ 22.1 [538] IONICUS was a native of Sardis, and his father was a celebrated physician. As a pupil of Zeno he attained to the highest degree of industry and diligence and won the admiration of Oribasius. While he acquired the greatest skill in the theory and practice of medicine in all its branches, he showed peculiar ability in every kind of experiment, was thoroughly acquainted with the anatomy of the body, and also made researches into the nature of man. Thus he understood the composition and mixture of every kind of drug that exists; he knew every sort of plaster and dressing that the most skilful healers apply to wounds, whether to stop a haemorrhage or to disperse what has gathered there. Also he was most inventive and expert in bandaging an injured limb, and in amputating or dissecting.
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§ 539 He was so thoroughly versed in the theory and practice of all these arts that even those who prided themselves on their ability as healers were amazed at his accurate knowledge, and openly admitted that by conversing with Ionicus they really understood the precepts that had been uttered by the physicians of earlier times and could now apply them to their use, though before they had been like words whose meaning is completely obscured, save only that they had been written down. Such were his attainments in the science of his profession, but he was also well equipped in every branch of philosophy and both kinds of divination; for there is one kind that has been bestowed on man for the benefit of the science of medicine, so that doctors may diagnose cases of sickness; and another that derives its inspiration from philosophy and is limited to and disseminated among those who have the power to receive and preserve it. He also studied the art of rhetoric with exact thoroughness, and the complete art of oratory; and was an initiate in the art of poetry. But he died not long before this work was written, and left two sons who deserve all honourable mention and remembrance. There was also one Theon who about this time acquired a great reputation in Gaul. But I must return once more to the philosophers from whom I have digressed.
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§ 23.1 [540] It was CHRYSANTHIUS who caused this commentary to be written, for he educated the author of this work from boyhood, and to the last maintained his kindness towards him as though it were some legal obligation. Nevertheless, I shall not on that account say anything merely to show my gratitude. For above all else he honoured the truth, and taught me this first of all, so that I shall not corrupt that gift which I received at his hands, save as perhaps I may somewhat moderate my statements and say less than the truth, since this was the agreement that we made.
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§ 541 Chrysanthius was of senatorial rank and was rated among the most nobly born in his city. His grandfather was one Innocentius, who had made a considerable fortune and had acquired greater celebrity than is the lot of the average private citizen, inasmuch as the emperors who reigned at that time entrusted to him the task of compiling the legal statutes. Indeed certain of his works still survive, and they deal partly with the language of the Romans, partly with Greece, and bear witness to the judicial and profound character of his mind; they contain a comprehensive treatment of these subjects for the benefit of those who are disposed to be interested in them. Chrysanthius himself, having been bereaved of his father while he was still a youth, was inflamed with the love of philosophy because of the divine qualities of his nature, and therefore betook himself to Pergamon and to the famous Aedesius. The latter was at the very height of his teaching powers when Chrysanthius encountered him thirsty for knowledge, submitted himself open-mouthed to his influence, feasted on his great and singular wisdom, was untiring in his attendance at lectures, and in his devotion to study showed himself second to none. Indeed he possessed an untiring and even adamantine frame, inured to undergo every kind of severe exercise. When he had been sufficiently imbued with the doctrines of Plato and Aristotle, he turned his attention to every other school of philosophy and read deeply in every branch.
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§ 543 Then when he had a sure and firm hold on the science of oratory, and by constant practice was fully equipped to exercise instant judgement in this field, he confidently displayed in public his well-trained talents, since he knew what to say and what to leave unsaid, while he was endowed with splendid and impressive rhetoric which helped him to win when he was hard pressed. Next he applied himself wholly to comprehending the nature of the gods and that wisdom to which Pythagoras devoted his mind, as did the disciples of Pythagoras such as Archytas of old, and Apollonius of Tyana, and those who worshipped Apollonius as a god, all of them beings who only seemed to possess a body and to be mortal men. Chrysanthius lost no time in devoting himself to these studies also, and seized hold of the first handle that offered itself in every case, taking first principles as his guide. Thus he was so marvellously enlightened and uplifted by the plumage of his soul, as Plato says, that he arrived at equal perfection in every branch of every type of wisdom, and was an adept in every branch of divination. Hence one might have said of him that he rather saw than foretold future events, so accurately did he discern and comprehend everything, as though he dwelt with and were in the presence of the gods. After spending a considerable time in these studies and collaborating with Maximus in the most arduous tasks, he left this partner of his. For Maximus had in his nature a tendency to be jealous and obstinate, and in direct opposition to the omens revealed by the gods he would keep demanding further omens and trying to extort them.
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§ 545 Chrysanthius, on the contrary, would use the first omens that appeared, then, by gradual divergence from these, would proceed to alter the signs that had been vouchsafed; then, if he got the omens he wanted, he had the best of it, but if he failed he adapted his human counsel to fit whatever came to light. For instance, on the occasion when the Emperor Julian by a single summons invited them both together to his court, and the soldiers who had been sent to escort them were applying with all due respect the Thessalian way of “forcible persuasion,” they resolved to communicate with the gods on this matter; and when the god warned them against the journey so plainly that any private person, even a tradesman, could have judged the omens, Maximus could not tear himself away from the sacrificial victims, and after the rites had been duly completed he persisted in wailing and lamentations, beseeching the gods to vouchsafe him different omens and to alter the course of destiny. And since he stubbornly persisted in many attempts, one after another, and always perverted the explanation that Chrysanthius gave, in the end his own will and pleasure interpreted the divine revelation, and the victims gave only the signs that he would accept, since he would not accept the signs they gave. So he set out on that ill-fated journey and the travels that were the cause of all his troubles; whereas Chrysanthius stayed at home. And at first the emperor was vexed at his tardiness, and moreover, I think he even guessed something of the truth, that Chrysanthius would not have refused the invitation if he had not observed something ill-omened in events to come. Accordingly, he wrote and summoned him
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§ 547 a second time, and his invitations were not addressed to Chrysanthius only. For in a special letter he urged his wife to help him to persuade her husband. Once more, then, Chrysanthius referred the matter to the divine will, and the gods continued to give a response to the same effect. When this had happened several times, even the emperor was convinced; but Chrysanthius having been appointed high priest of the whole country, since he knew clearly what was about to happen, was not oppressive in the exercise of his office. He built no temples, as all other men in their hot haste and perfervid zeal hastened to do, nor was he excessively harsh to any of the Christians. But such was the mildness of his character that throughout Lydia the restoration of the temples almost escaped notice. At any rate, when the powers that be pursued a different policy, there proved to have been no serious innovation, nor did there seem to be any great and universal change, but everything calmed down in a friendly spirit and became smooth and tranquil; by which means he alone won admiration when all the rest were tossed to and fro as though by tempest; since on a sudden some cowered in consternation, while they that were humbled before were once more exalted. For all this, then, he won admiration as one who was not only skilled in forecasting the future, but also in rightly using his foreknowledge. Such was the man's whole disposition, whether it was that in him the Platonic Socrates had come to life again, or in his ambition to imitate him he carefully formed himself from boyhood on his pattern.
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§ 549 For an unaffected and indescribable simplicity was manifest in him and dwelt in his speech, and moreover there was about every word of his a charm that enchanted the hearer. In intercourse he was amiable to all men, so that everyone went away from him with the conviction that he was especially beloved. And just as the most charming and sweetest songs flow gently and smoothly, as they insinuate themselves into all men's ears and reach even irrational animals, as they tell of Orpheus, even so the eloquence of Chrysanthius was modulated to suit all ears and was in harmony with and adapted to all those diverse temperaments. But it was not easy to rouse him to philosophical discussions or competitions, because he perceived that it is especially in such contests that men become embittered. Nor would anyone readily have heard him showing off his own erudition or inflated because of it, or insolent and arrogant towards others; rather he used to admire whatever they said, even though their remarks were worthless, and he would applaud even incorrect conclusions, just as though he had not even heard the premises, but was naturally inclined to assent, lest he should inflict pain on anyone. And if in an assembly of those most distinguished for learning any dissension arose, and he thought fit to take part in the discussion, the place became hushed in silence as though no one were there. So unwilling were they to face his questions and definitions and power of quoting from memory, but they would retire into the background and carefully refrain from discussion or contradiction, lest their failure should be too evident. Many of those who knew him only slightly, and therefore had not sounded the depths of his soul, accused him of lack of intelligence and would praise only his mild disposition;
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§ 551 but when they heard him maintaining a philosophical theme and unfolding his opinions and arguments, they decided that this was a very different person from the man they thought they knew. So transformed did he seem by the excitement of dialectical debate, with his hair standing on end, and his eyes testifying that the soul within him was leaping and dancing around the opinions that he expressed. He survived to an advanced old age, and during the whole of his long life he took thought for none of the ordinary affairs of human life, except the care of his own household and agriculture and just so much money as may be honestly acquired. Poverty he bore more easily than other men wealth, and moreover his diet was plain and whatever came to hand. He never ate pork, and other kinds of meat but seldom. He worshipped the gods with the utmost devotion and assiduity, and never slackened in his reading of the ancient authors. In old age he was still the same as he had been in youth, and when he was over eighty he wrote more books with his own hand than others, even in youth, find time to read. Hence the ends of the fingers with which he wrote became curved and crooked with constant work and use. When his work was done he would rise and amuse himself by walking in the public streets with the author of this narrative to keep him company; and he would take very long but leisurely walks. Meanwhile he would tell such charming and agreeable stories that one might have been terribly footsore without being aware of it. He very seldom went to the baths, and yet he always seemed fresh from a bath.
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§ 553 In his intercourse with those in authority, if he seemed to use excessive freedom of manner this was not due to arrogance or pride, but must rather be regarded as the perfect simplicity of one who was wholly ignorant of the nature of power and authority; so familiar and so witty was his language when he talked with such persons. He had taught the author of this work, then still a youth, and when the latter returned from Athens Chrysanthius showed him no less kindness, but day by day he even multiplied the signs of his peculiar goodwill; and he gained such influence over him that the author in the early morning used to give his time to his own pupils and instruct any who so desired in the art of rhetoric, but soon after midday he betook himself to his old master and was by him instructed in the teachings of religion and philosophy. And in this period the teacher never grew weary of instructing his devoted admirer, while the task was like a holiday festival for him who received his teaching. Now when the practice of Christianity was gaining ground and usurping all men's minds, there arrived from Rome after a long interval a prefect of Asia named Justus, already well on in years, a man of noble and beautiful character, who had not cast aside the time-honoured ritual of his ancestors, for he was an ardent disciple of that happy and blessed form of worship. He was constant in his attendance at the temples, wholly under the sway of every kind of divination, and took great pride in his zeal for these things and his success in restoring them. He crossed from Asia to Constantinople, and when he found that the chief man of the country (his name was Hilarius ) was as enthusiastic as himself in
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§ 555 his zeal, he built altars offhand at Sardis where there were none, and wherever a vestige was to be found he set his hand to the remains of the temples with the ambition of rebuilding them. After offering sacrifices in public, he sent to summon from all sides the men who had a reputation for learning. They were no sooner summoned than they came, partly because they admired the man himself, partly because they thought this was an opportunity to show off their own abilities, while some of them put their trust in their power to flatter quite as much as in their erudition, and hoped by this means to gain honour or glory or wealth. Therefore when a public sacrifice was announced they were all present, and the author of this work was present also. Then Justus set himself to the task, and fixing the steady gaze of his eyes on the victim, which lay in any sort of posture, he asked the bystanders: “What is portended by the posture in which the victim has fallen?” Thereupon the flatterers were warm in their admiration, because he was able to divine even from postures, and they deferred to him as alone possessed of this knowledge. But the more dignified stroked their beards with the tips of their fingers, and put on a serious expression of face, and shook their heads solemnly and slowly while they gazed at the victim lying there, and each one offered a different solution. But Justus, who could hardly contain his laughter, turned to Chrysanthius and cried: “And what do you say about this, reverend sir?” Chrysanthius replied with equanimity that he rejected the whole proceeding. “But,” said he “if you wish me also to give an opinion about this, first, if you really understand the modes of divination,
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§ 557 tell me what mode of divination this is, to what type it belongs, what you seek to learn, and what method you followed in your inquiry. If you will tell me all this, I will tell you what is the bearing on the future of this thing that we see. But until you tell me these things, since the gods themselves reveal the future, it would be unworthy on my part, in answer to your question, at the same time to answer your inquiry and to speak of the future, thus connecting the future with what has just happened. For thus would arise two different questions at once; but no one asks two or more questions at the same time. For when things have two separate definitions, one explanation does not suit both.” Then Justus exclaimed that he had learned something that he never knew before, and for the future he consulted him constantly in private and drank deep from that fount of knowledge. There were others also in those days, renowned for wisdom, who were attracted by the fame of Chrysanthius and entered into discussions with him, but whenever this happened they went away convinced that they could not approach his oratorical genius. This is what happened to Hellespontius of Galatia, an unusually gifted man in every way, who, if Chrysanthius had not existed, would have shown himself worthy of the first place. For he was so ardent a lover of learning that he travelled almost to the uninhabited parts of the world in the desire of finding out whether he could meet anyone who knew more than himself. Thus, then, crowned with noble words and deeds he came to ancient Sardis to enjoy the society of Chrysanthius. But all this happened later. Chrysanthius had a son whom he named after
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§ 559 Aedesius of whom I have written above, formerly his teacher at Pergamon. From his childhood this boy was a creature winged for every excellence, and of the two horses as Plato describes them, his soul possessed only the good steed, nor did his intellect ever sink; but he was a devoted student, keenwitted, and assiduous in the worship of the gods; and so completely was he emancipated from human weaknesses, that though a mortal man he was all soul. At any rate his body was so light in its movements that it would seem incredible and would take a genuine poet to describe to what a height it rose aloft. His kinship and affinity with the gods was so unceremonious and familiar that he had only to place the garland on this head and turn his gaze upwards to the sun, and immediately deliver oracles which, moreover, were always infallible and were composed after the fairest models of divine inspiration. Yet he neither knew the art of writing verse nor was trained in the science of grammar; but for him the god took the place of all else. Though he had never been ill during his allotted span of life, he died when he was about twenty years of age. On this occasion also his father showed himself a true philosopher. For whether it was that the greatness of the calamity reduced him to a state of apathy, or whether he rejoiced with his son in the latter's blessed portion, the fact is that he remained unshaken. The youth's mother also, observing her husband, rose above the ordinary feminine nature and put away from her all loud lamentation, that her grief might have its due dignity.
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§ 561 After these events had taken place, Chrysanthius pursued his accustomed studies. And when many great public and universal calamities and disturbances befell, which shook all men's souls with terror, he alone remained unshaken by the storm; so much so that one would have thought that he was really elsewhere than on earth. About this time Hellespontius came to see him, and they met and conversed, though only after some delay. When, however, they did actually meet, Hellespontius was so captivated that he abandoned all else and was ready to live under the same roof as Chrysanthius and to renew his youth by studying with him. For he regretted that he had so long wandered in error, and had arrived at old age before learning anything useful. Accordingly he bent his whole mind to this task. But it chanced that Chrysanthius had to have a vein cut open as was his custom, and the author was present in obedience to his orders; and when the doctors prescribed that the blood should be allowed to flow freely, the author in his anxiety to apply the right treatment declared that the bloodletting was beyond all reason, and gave orders that it should be stopped then and there; for the author of this work had considerable knowledge of medicine. Hellespontius hearing what had happened came at once, indignant and loudly lamenting that it was a great calamity that a man of so great an age should lose so much blood from his arm. But when he heard Chrysanthius talking and saw that he was unharmed, he directed his remarks to the author and said:
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§ 563 “The whole city is accusing you of having done a terrible thing; but now they will all be silenced, when they see that he is unharmed.” The author replied that he knew what was the proper treatment, whereupon Hellespontius made as though he would collect his books and go to Chrysanthius for a lesson; but he really left the city. Presently he began to suffer from a pain in his stomach, and he turned aside to Apamea in Bithynia and there departed this life, after laying the strictest injunctions on his comrade Procopius, who was present, to admire none but Chrysanthius. Procopius went to Sardis and did as he said, and reported these facts. Now Chrysanthius, at the same season in the following year, that is at the beginning of summer, had recourse to the same remedy, and though the author of this work had given instructions to the doctors beforehand that they must wait for him as usual, they arrived without his knowledge. Chrysanthius offered his arm to them, and there was an excessive flux of blood, the result of which was that his limbs relaxed and he suffered acute pain in his joints, so that he had to stay in bed. Oribasius was immediately called in, and for the sake of Chrysanthius he almost succeeded, so extraordinary was his professional skill, in doing violence to the laws of nature, and by means of hot and soothing fomentations he almost restored the vigour of youth to those rigid limbs. Nevertheless old age gained the victory; for his eightieth year was now approaching, and the influence of his age was doubly felt when his temperature was so greatly changed by the excessive application of heat. After an illness of four days he departed to a destiny that was worthy of him.
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§ 24.1 [565] The successors of Chrysanthius in the profession of philosophy are Epigonus of Lacedaemon and Beronicianus of Sardis, men well worthy of the title of philosopher. But Beronicianus has sacrificed more generously to the Graces and has a peculiar talent for associating with his fellows. Long may he live to do so!

Via ToposText (topostext.org), a project of the Aikaterini Laskaridis Foundation created by Brady Kiesling. Translated by Wilmer Cave Wright (1865-1951). Composed ca. 399 CE. Licence: public domain. Source.