Letter 50: Your earlier silence was more creditable than your current defense.

To Nilus, surnamed Dionysius. Your earlier silence was more creditable than your current defense. Back then you at least refrained from abuse, even if you had it in mind. But now, as if in labor, you have poured out your insults against me all at once. Must I not consider it both insult and blasphemy that you supposed me to be like your own friends -- each of whom you approached uninvited? Or rather, the first never invited you at all, and to the second, who merely hinted that he wanted your help, you came running. But if I am indeed like Constantius and Magnentius, the facts themselves, as they say, will show it. That you praise yourself like Astydamas in the comedians' proverb, dear lady, is plain enough from what you have written. This fearlessness, this mighty boldness, this "if only you knew how great and what sort of man I am" -- good heavens, what a clatter and clang of words! But by the Graces and Aphrodite, if you are truly so bold and noble, why did you hesitate to give offense a third time, should the need arise? For those who make enemies of their rulers suffer, at the lightest, the rather pleasant consequence -- to a man of sense -- of being quickly rid of public business. If something more must be added, they lose their money. And the ultimate penalty, the suffering of irreparable harm, is the loss of life itself. If you look down on all these things because you have come to know not only the individual man but also the universal human being -- that nature which we late learners still fail to grasp -- then why, by the gods, did you say you were cautious about giving offense a third time? For I certainly will not make you wicked from good by my anger; the man who could do that would be truly enviable. And since, as Plato says, virtue belongs to no master, you had no need to reckon with any such calculation. But you think it a great thing to slander everyone and abuse all men without distinction, and to turn the sanctuary of peace into a workshop of war. Or do you suppose that this constitutes a defense before the world for your old failings, and that your present boldness is a curtain drawn over your former softness? You have heard the fable of Babrius: "A cat once fell in love with a handsome man." Learn the rest from the book. No amount of talk will persuade anyone that you have not become what you have become, what many people knew you to be long ago. Your present ignorance and boldness were not inspired by philosophy, by the gods -- quite the contrary: they come from what Plato calls double ignorance. For though you know nothing -- as indeed neither do I -- you imagine yourself the wisest of all men, not only of the present age but of all ages past, and perhaps of all ages to come. So greatly has your vanity grown in proportion to your ignorance. But more than enough has been said on your account. Perhaps I should also defend myself before others for having rashly invited you to share in public affairs. I was not the first or only one to be so deceived, Dionysius. The great Plato too was deceived by your namesake, and also by the Athenian Callippus. He says he knew the man was wicked, but never imagined such magnitude of vice to be in him. And why speak of these cases, when even the greatest of the Asclepiads, Hippocrates, said: "The sutures of the skull deceived my judgment"? If those men were deceived about things they understood, is it surprising that Julian, hearing suddenly that Nilus-Dionysius had become a man of courage, was taken in? You know that Elean Phaedo and his story. If you do not, investigate it more carefully. He believed that nothing was incurable for philosophy, that all men could be purified by it from every kind of life, habit, and desire. For if philosophy availed only for those who are well-born and well-educated, there would be nothing marvelous about it. But if it can raise even those in such a condition to the light, then it seems to me supremely wonderful. From these considerations my opinion of you gradually shifted, as all the gods know, toward the better. I certainly never ranked you among the first or second rank of the best men. You may know this yourself; if not, ask the excellent Symmachus, for I am convinced he would never willingly lie, being by nature entirely truthful. Do you think your outspokenness is worth four obols, as the saying goes? Do you not know that Thersites too spoke freely among the Greeks, and the wise Odysseus struck him with his scepter, while Agamemnon cared less about Thersites' insolence than a tortoise cares about flies, as the proverb has it? It is no great feat to criticize others while keeping oneself above criticism. If you belong to that class, show us the proof. When you were young, did you give your elders fine accounts of yourself? Like Euripides' Electra, I will keep silent about such matters. But when you became a man and joined the army, how did you conduct yourself, by Zeus? You say you departed after giving offense on behalf of the truth. From what evidence can you prove this, when many men far more wicked than you -- by whom you yourself were driven out -- were also removed? But enough. As punishment for your insolence against me, I will impose upon you, with the gods' consent and that of our mistress Adrasteia, the fitting penalty. What is it? What can best pain your tongue and your mind? I shall try, through both words and deeds, to commit as few errors as possible, so as to give your slanderous tongue little material for its chatter. Though I am not unaware that even Aphrodite's sandal, they say, was mocked by Momus. But you see that Momus burst with frustration many times and could barely find the sandal to criticize. May you too grow old wearing yourself out over such trifles, deeper in years than Tithonus, richer than Cinyras, more luxurious than Sardanapalus, so that the proverb may be fulfilled in your case: "Old men are children twice over."

To Nilus, surnamed Dionysius 2 [362-363, Winter. From Antioch] Your earlier silence was more creditable than your present defence; for then you did not utter abuse, though perhaps it was in your mind. But now, as though you were in travail, you have poured out your abuse of me wholesale. For must I not regard it as abuse and slander that you supposed me to be like your own friends, to each of whom you offered yourself uninvited; or rather, by the first3 you were not invited, and you obeyed the second 1 on his merely indicating that he wished to enlist you to help him. However, whether I am like Constans and Magnentius the event itself, as they say, will prove.2 But as for you, from what you wrote it is very plain that, in the words of the comic poet,3 "You are praising yourself, lady, like Astydamas." For when you write about your "fearlessness" and "great courage," and say "Would that you knew my real value and my true character!" and, in a word, all that sort of thing,—for shame! What an empty noise and display of words is this! Nay, by the Graces and Aphrodite, if you are so brave and noble, why were you "so careful to avoid incurring displeasure," if need be, "for the third time"?4 For when men fall under the displeasure of princes, the lightest consequence—and, as one might say, the most agreeable to a man of sense—is that they are at once relieved from the cares of business; and if they have to pay a small fine as well, their stumbling block is merely money; while the culmination of the prince's wrath, and the "fate beyond all remedy" as the saying is, is to lose their lives. Disregarding all these dangers, because, as you say, "you had come to know me in my private capacity for the man I am" 5—and in my common and generic capacity for the human being I am, though unknown to myself, late learner that I am!—why, in heaven's name, did you say that you were careful to avoid incurring displeasure for the third time? For surely my anger will not change you from a good man into a bad. I should be enviable indeed, and with justice, if I had the power to do that; for then, as Plato says,1 I could do the converse as well. But since virtue owns no master,2 you ought not to have taken into account anything of the 'sort. However, you think it is a fine thing to speak ill of all men, and to abuse all without exception, and to convert the shrine of peace3 into a workshop of war. Or do you think in this way to excuse yourself in the sight of all for your past sins, and that your courage now is a screen to hide your cowardice of old? You have heard the fable of Babrius:4 "Once upon a time a weasel fell in love with a handsome youth.". The rest of the fable you may learn from the book. However much you may say, you will never convince any human being that you were not what you were, and such as many knew you to be in the past. As for your ignorance and audacity now, it was not philosophy that implanted them in you, no, by heaven! On the contrary, it was what Plato5 calls a twofold lack of knowledge. For though you really know nothing, just as I know nothing, you think forsooth that you are the wisest of all men, not only of those who are alive now, but also of those who have ever been, and perhaps of those who ever will be. To such a pitch of ignorance has your self-conceit grown! However, as far as you are concerned, this that I have said is more than enough; but perhaps I ought to apologise on your account to the others because I too hastily summoned you to take part in public affairs. I am not the first or the only one, Dionysius, who has had this experience. Your namesake1 deceived even great Plato; and Callippus2 the Athenian also deceived Dio. For Plato says3 that Dio knew he was a bad man but that he would never have expected in him such a degree of baseness. Why need I quote the experience of these men, when even Hippocrates,4 the most distinguished of the sons of Asclepius, said: "The sutures of the head baffled my judgement." Now if those famous men were deceived about persons whom they knew, and the physician was mistaken in a professional diagnosis, is it surprising that Julian was deceived when he heard that Nilus Dionysius had suddenly become brave? You have heard tell of the famous Phaedo of Elis,5 and you know his story. However, if you do not know it, study it more carefully, but at any rate I will tell you this part. He thought that there is nothing that cannot be cured by philosophy, and that by her all men can be purified from all their modes of life, their habits, desires, in a word from everything of the sort. If indeed she only availed those who are well born and well bred there would be nothing marvellous about philosophy; but if she can lead up to the light men so greatly depraved,1 then I consider her marvellous beyond anything. For these reasons my estimate of you, as all the gods know, inclined little 'by little to be more favourable; but even so I did not count your sort in the first or the second class of the most virtuous. Perhaps you yourself know this; but if you do not know it, enquire of the worthy Symmachus.2 For I am convinced that he would never willingly tell a lie, since he is naturally disposed to be truthful in all things. And if you are aggrieved that I did not honour you before all others, I for my part reproach myself for having ranked you even among the last in merit, and I thank all the gods and goddesses who hindered us from becoming associated in public affairs and from being intimate ... 3 And indeed, though the poets have often said of Rumour that she is a goddess,4 and let us grant, if you will, that she at least has demonic power, yet not very much attention ought to be paid to her, because a demon is not altogether pure or perfectly good, like the race of the gods, but has some share of the opposite quality. And even though it be not permissible to say this concerning the other demons, I know that when I say of Rumour that she reports many things falsely as well as many truthfully, I shall never myself be convicted of bearing false witness.1 But as for your "freedom of speech," do you think that it is worth four obols, as the saying is? Do you not know that Thersites also spoke his mind freely among the Greeks, whereupon the most wise Odysseus beat him with his staff,2 while Agamemnon paid less heed to the drunken brawling of Thersites than a tortoise does to flies, as the proverb goes? For that matter it is no great achievement to criticise others, but rather to place oneself beyond the reach of criticism. Now if you can claim to be in this category, prove it to me. Did you not, when you were young, furnish to your elders fine themes for gossip about you? However, like Electra in Euripides,3 I keep silence about happenings of this sort. But when you came to man's estate and betook yourself to the camp,4 how, in the name of Zeus, did you behave? You say that you left it because you gave offence in the cause of truth. From what evidence can you prove this, as though many men5 and of the basest sort had not been exiled by the very persons by whom you yourself were driven away? Ο most wise Dionysius, it does not happen to a virtuous and temperate man to go away obnoxious to those in power! You would have done better if you had proved to us that men from their intercourse with you were better behaved. But this was not in your power, no, by the gods, nor is it in the power of tens of thousands who emulate your way of life. For when rocks grind against rocks and stones against stones they do not benefit one another, and the stronger easily wears down the weaker.1 I am not saying this in Laconic fashion 2 and concisely, am I? Nay, I think that on your account I have shown myself even more talkative than Attic grasshoppers. However, in return for your drunken abuse of myself, I will inflict on you the appropriate punishment, by the grace of the gods and our lady Adrasteia.3 What, then, is this punishment, and what has the greatest power to hurt your tongue and your mind? It is this: I will try, by erring as little as may be in word and deed, not to provide your slanderous tongue with so much foolish talk. And yet I am well aware that it is said that even the sandal of Aphrodite was satirised by Momus. But you observe that though Momus poured forth floods 4 of criticism he could barely find anything to criticise in her sandal.5 Even so may you grow old fretting yourself over things of this sort, more decrepit than Tithonus, richer than Cinyras, more luxurious than Sardanapalus, so that in you may be fulfilled the proverb, "Old men are twice children." But why does the divine Alexander seem to you so pre-eminent? Is it because you took to imitating him and aspired to that for which the youth Hermolaus 6 reproached him? Or rather, no one is so foolish as to suspect you of that. But the very opposite, that which Hermolaus lamented that he had endured, and which was the reason for his plotting, as they say, to kill Alexander—everyone believes this about you also, do they not? I call the gods to witness that I have heard many persons assert that they were very fond of you and who made many excuses for this offence of yours, but I have found just one person who did not believe it. However he is that one swallow who does not make a spring. But perhaps the reason why Alexander seemed in your eyes a great man was that he cruelly murdered Callisthenes,1 that Cleitus2 fell a victim to his drunken fury, and Philotas too, and Parmenio 3 and Parmenio's son; for that affair of Hector,4 who was smothered in the whirlpools of the Nile in Egypt or the Euphrates—the story is told of both rivers— I say nothing about, or of his other follies, lest I should seem to speak ill of a man who by no means maintained the ideal of rectitude but nevertheless excelled as a general in the works of war. Whereas you are less endowed with both these, namely, good principles and courage, than a fish with hair. Now listen to my advice and do not resent it too much. "Not to thee, my child, have been given the works of war." 5 The verse that follows 6 I do not write out for you, because, by the gods, I am ashamed to do so. However I ask you to understand it as said. For it is only fair that words should follow on deeds, and that he who has never avoided deeds should not avoid the phrases that describe them. Nay, if you revere the pious memory of Magnentius and Constans, why do you wage war against the living and abuse those who excel in any way? Is it because the dead are better able than the living to avenge themselves on those who vex them? Yet it does not become you to say this. For you are, as your letter says, "Very brave indeed." But if this is not the reason, perhaps there is a different one. Perhaps you do not wish to satirise them because they cannot feel it. But among the living is there anyone so foolish or so cowardly as to demand that you should take any notice of him at all, and who will not prefer if possible to be altogether ignored by you; but if that should be impossible, to be abused by you, as indeed I am now abused rather than honoured? May I never be so ill-advised—may I never aspire to win praise rather than blame from you! But perhaps you will say that the very fact that I am writing to you is a proof that I am stung?1 No, I call the Saviour Gods to witness that I am but trying to check your excessive audacity and boldness, the license of your tongue and the ferocity of your soul, the madness of your wits and your perverse fury on all occasions. In any case it was in my power, if I had been stung, to chastise you with deeds and not merely with words,2 and I should have been entirely within the law. For you are a citizen and of senatorial rank and you disobeyed a command of your Emperor; and such behaviour was certainly not permissible to anyone who could not furnish the excuse of real necessity. Therefore I was not satisfied with inflicting on you any sort of penalty for this conduct, but I thought I ought to write to you first, thinking that you might be cured by a short letter. But since I have discovered that you persist in the same errors, or rather how great your frenzy is which I previously did not know . . ,1 lest you should be thought to be a man, when that you are not, or brimful of freedom of speech, when you are only full of insanity, or that you have had the advantage of education when you have not the smallest acquaintance with literature, as far, at any rate, as one may reasonably judge from your letters. For instance, no one of the ancients ever used φροῦδος 2 to mean "manifest" as you do here,—for, as for the other blunders displayed in your letter, no one could describe them even in a long book, or that obscene and abominable character of yours that leads you to prostitute yourself. You tell me indeed that it is not those who arrive offhand or those who are hunting for public office whom we ought to choose, but those who use sound judgement and in accordance with this prefer to do their duty rather than those who are ready and eager to obey. Fair, truly, are the hopes you hold out to me though I made no appeal to you, implying that you will yield if I again summon you to take part in public business. But I am so far from doing that, that, when the others were admitted, I never even addressed you at any time. And yet I did address many who were known and unknown to me and dwell in Rome, beloved of the gods. Such was my desire for your friendship, so worthy of consideration did I think you! Therefore it is likely that my future conduct towards you will be much the same. And indeed I have written this letter now, not for your perusal alone, since I knew it was needed by many besides yourself, and I will give it to all, since all, I am convinced, will be glad to receive it. For when men see you more haughty and more insolent than befits your past life, they resent it. You have here a complete answer from me, so that you can desire nothing more. Nor do I ask for any further communication from you. But when you have read my letters use them for whatever purpose you please. For our friendship is at an end. Farewell, and divide your time between luxurious living and abuse of me! 2 For the name and personality of Nilus see Introduction, under Nilus. 3 Constans; cf. Vol. 1, Oration 1. 9d. 1 Magnentius; cf. Oration 1 for the defeat of this usurper by Constantias. Magnentius had murdered Constans, see Oration 1. 26b, 2. 55 d.  2 Cf. Vol. 2, Caesars 307a. 3 Philemon frag. 190; cf. Letter to Basil, p. 83; this had become a proverb. 4 i.e. after his experiences with Constans and Magnentius. 5 A quotation from the other's letter. 1 Crito 44d.  2 Plato, Republic 617e. 3 The Senate; for the phrase cf. Xenophon, Hellenica 3. 4. 17. 4 Fable 32, the weasel or cat, transformed into a woman, could not resist chasing a mouse. 5 Cf. Proclus on Cratylus 65 for this Neo-Platonic phrase; and Plato, Apology 21d. In Sophist 229b Plato defines the ignorance of those who do not even know that they are ignorant. 1 The tyrant of Syracuse. 2 Callippus, who assassinated Dio in 353 B.C., was himself put to death by the Syracusans after he had usurped the government. 3 Plato, Epistle 7. 351 d, e. 4 Hippocrates, 5. 3. 561 Kuhn. This candid statement of Hippocrates, who had failed to find a wound in a patient's head, was often cited as a proof of a great mind; cf. Plutarch, De profectu in virtute, 82d. 5 For the reformation of Phaedo by philosophy, see Aulus Gellius 2. 18 and Julian, Vol. 2, 264d (Wright). He was a disciple of Socrates and wrote several dialogues; for his Life see Diogenes Laertius, 2. 105; cf. Wilamowitz in Hermes 14. 1 i. e. as Phaedo. Wilamowitz thinks that this sentence and the preceding are quoted or paraphrased from Phaedo. 2 This was probably L. Aurelius Avianius Symmachus the Roman senator, prefect of the city in 364-5, father of the orator Quintus Aurelius Symmachus; Ammianus 21. 12. 24, describes the meeting of the elder Symmachus and Julian in 361 at Nish. 3 The lack of connection indicates a lacuna though there is none in the MSS. Probably Julian said that their intimacy existed only as a rumour. 4 Hesiod, Works and Days 763. 1 Cf. Julian's reverence for it in Vol. 1, pp. 409, 423; Vol. 2, p. 347, Wright. 2 Iliad 2. 265. 3 Orestes 16. Cf. Vol. 2, To Themistius, 254b, p. 204, Wright. 4 i. e. of Constans. 5 We do not know to whom Julian refers. 1 See the similar passage on p. 101. Asmus thinks that the Laurieius there mentioned and Nilus were both Cynics and therefore obnoxious to Julian. 2 A reference to the letter of Nilus, who had perhaps asked for a brief answer. 3 Cf. Misopogon 370b, vol. 2, p. 508, Wright. 4 Or "burst with the effort," cf. rumpi invidia. 5 Philostratus, Epistle 37; Momus complained that Aphrodite wore a sandal that squeaked. 6 For the plot of Hermolaus and Callisthenes against Alexander, cf. Quintus Curtius 8. 6; Arrian, Anabasis 4. 13. 14; Plutarch, Alexander 55. 1 The historian who accompanied Alexander to the East. 2 Cf. Vol. 2, Caesars 331c, p. 403, note, Wright. 3 The general Parmenio and his son Philotas were executed for treason; Arrian, Anabasis 3. 26. 4 Cf. Quintus Curtius 5. 8. 7; Hector, a son of Parmenio, was, according to Curtius, accidentally drowned, though Julian ascribes his death to Alexander. 5 Iliad 5. 428, Zeus to Aphrodite. 6 [Greek]. 1 Julian seems to anticipate the criticism of Nilus that he is not showing himself superior to Alexander. 2 For Julian's mildness in such cases, see Ammianus. 25.4. 9.  1 Lacuna. Some reference to the letters written by Nilus is needed here. 2 [Greek] 1 Some words have fallen out. 2 In Attic the word means " vanished."

[Πρός: Διονυσίῳ] Ἀμείνων ἦσθα σιωπῶν πρότερον ἢ νῦν ἀπολογούμενος· οὐδὲ γὰρ ἐλοιδοροῦ τότε, καίτοι διανοούμενος ἴσως αὐτό· νυνὶ δὲ ὥσπερ ὠδίνων τὴν καθ’ ἡμῶν λοιδορίαν ἀθρόαν ἐξέχεας. ἢ γὰρ οὐ χρή με καὶ λοιδορίαν αὐτὸ καὶ βλασφημίαν νομίζειν, ὅτι με τοῖς σεαυτοῦ φίλοις ὑπελάμβανες εἶναι προσόμοιον, ὧν ἑκατέρῳ δέδωκας σεαυτὸν ἄκλητον, μᾶλλον δὲ τῷ μὲν ἄκλητον, τῷ προτέρῳ, τῷ δευτέρῳ δὲ ἐνδειξαμένῳ μόνον, ὅτι σε συνεργὸν ἐθέλει προσλαβεῖν, ὑπήκουσας. ἀλλ’ εἰ μὲν ἐγὼ προσόμοιός εἰμι Κώνσταντι καὶ Μαγνεντίῳ, τὸ πρᾶγμα αὐτό, φασί, δείξει· σὺ δ’ ὅτι κατὰ τὸν κωμικὸν σαυτὴν ἐπαινεῖς ὥσπερ Ἀστυδάμας, γύναι, πρόδηλόν ἐστιν ἐξ ὧν ἐπέστειλας. ἡ γὰρ ἀφοβία καὶ τὸ μέγα θάρσος καὶ τὸ εἴθε με γνοίης ὅσος καὶ οἷός εἰμι, καὶ πάντα ἁπλῶς τὰ τοιαῦτα, βαβαί, πηλίκου κτύπου καὶ κόμπου ῥημάτων ἐστίν. ἀλλὰ καὶ πρὸς τῶν Χαρίτων καὶ τῆς Ἀφροδίτης, εἰ τολμηρὸς οὕτως εἶ καὶ γενναῖος, τί καὶ τρίτον ηὐλαβήθης, ἂν δέῃ, προσκρούειν; οἱ γὰρ τοῖς κρατοῦσιν ἀπεχθανόμενοι, τὸ μὲν κουφότατον καί, ὡς ἂν εἴποι τις, ἥδιστον τῷ γε νοῦν ἔχοντι, τοῦ πράγματα ἔχειν ταχέως ἀπαλλάττονται, μικρὰ δὲ εἰ χρὴ προσζημιωθῆναι, περὶ τὰ χρήματα πταίουσι· τὸ δὲ κεφάλαιόν ἐστι τῆς ὀργῆς καὶ τὸ παθεῖν, φασί, τὰ ἀνήκεστα, τὸ ζῆν προέσθαι. τούτων δὴ πάντων ὑπερορῶν, ὅτι καὶ τὸν ἰδίως ἄνδρα ἐπέγνωκας· καὶ τὸν κοινῶς καὶ γενικῶς ἄνθρωπον ὑφ’ ἡμῶν τῶν ὀψιμαθῶν ἀγνοούμενον, ἀνθ’ ὅτου, πρὸς τῶν θεῶν, εὐλαβεῖσθαι ἔφης, μὴ τρίτον προσκρούσῃς; οὐ γὰρ δὴ πονηρὸν ἐκ χρηστοῦ σε ποιήσω χαλεπήνας ἐγώ· ζηλωτὸς γὰρ ἂν ἦν ἐν δίκῃ τοῦτο δυνάμενος· ἦ γάρ, ὥς φησι Πλάτων, καὶ τοὐναντίον οἷός τε ἦν ἄν. ἀδεσπότου δὲ τῆς ἀρετῆς οὔσης ἐχρῆν ὑπολογίζεσθαι μηδὲν τῶν τοιούτων. ἀλλ’ οἴει μέγα τὸ πάντας μὲν βλασφημεῖν, πᾶσι δὲ ἁπλῶς λοιδορεῖσθαι, καὶ τὸ τῆς εἰρήνης τέμενος ἀποφαίνειν ἐργαστήριον πολέμου. ἢ τοῦτο νομίζεις ὑπὲρ τῶν παλαιῶν ἁμαρτημάτων ἀπολογεῖσθαι πρὸς ἅπαντας, καὶ τῆς πάλαι ποτὲ μαλακίας παραπέτασμα τὴν νῦν ἀνδρείαν εἶναί σοι; τὸν μῦθον ἀκήκοας τὸν Βαβρίου "Γαλῆ ποτ’ ἀνδρὸς εὐπρεποῦς ἐρασθεῖσα". τὰ δὲ ἄλλα ἐκ τοῦ βιβλίου μάνθανε. πολλὰ εἰπὼν οὐδένα ἂν πείσειας ἀνθρώπων, ὡς οὐ γέγονας ὅπερ οὖν γέγονας καὶ οἷον πολλοὶ πάλαι σε ἠπίσταντο. τὴν νῦν δὲ ἀμαθίαν καὶ τὸ θάρσος οὐχ ἡ φιλοσοφία μὰ τοὺς θεοὺς ἐνεποίησέ σοι, τοὐναντίον δὲ ἡ διπλῆ κατὰ Πλάτωνα ἄγνοια. κινδυνεύων γὰρ εἰδέναι μηδέν, ὡς οὐδὲ ἡμεῖς, οἴει δὴ πάντων εἶναι σοφώτατος, οὐ τῶν νῦν ὄντων μόνον, ἀλλὰ καὶ τῶν γεγονότων, ἴσως δὲ καὶ τῶν ἐσομένων. οὕτω σοι πρὸς ὑπερβολὴν ἀμαθίας τὰ τῆς οἰήσεως ἐπιδέδωκεν. Ἀλλὰ σοῦ μὲν ἕνεκα καὶ ταῦτα τῶν ἱκανῶν εἴρηταί μοι πλείω, δεῖ δὲ ἴσως ἀπολογήσασθαι διὰ σὲ καὶ τοῖς ἄλλοις, ὅτι προχείρως ἐπὶ κοινωνίαν σε παρεκάλεσα πραγμάτων. τοῦτ’ οὐ πρῶτος οὐδὲ μόνος ἔπαθον, ὦ Διονύσιε. ἐξηπάτησε καὶ Πλάτωνα τὸν μέγαν ὁ σὸς ὁμώνυμος, ἀλλὰ καὶ ὁ Ἀθηναῖος Κάλλιπος· εἰδέναι μὲν γὰρ αὐτόν φησι πονηρὸν ὄντα, τηλικαύτην δὲ ἐν αὐτῷ τὸ μέγεθος κακίαν οὐδ’ ἂν ἐλπίσαι πώποτε. καὶ τί χρὴ λέγειν ὑπὲρ τούτων, ὅπου καὶ τῶν Ἀσκληπιαδῶν ὁ ἄριστος Ἱπποκράτης ἔφη· Ἔσφηλαν δέ μου τὴν γνώμην αἱ ἐν τῇ κεφαλῇ ῥαφαί; εἶτ’ ἐκεῖνοι μὲν ὑπὲρ ὧν ᾔδεσαν ἐξηπατῶντο, καὶ τὸ τεχνικὸν ἐλάνθανε τὸν ἰατρὸν θεώρημα, θαυμαστὸν δέ, εἴπερ Ἰουλιανὸς ἀκούσας ἐξαίφνης ἀνδρίζεσθαι τὸν Νεῖλον Διονύσιον ἐξηπατήθη; ἀκούεις ἐκεῖνον τὸν Ἠλεῖον Φαίδωνα, καὶ τὴν ἱστορίαν ἐπίστασαι· εἰ δὲ ἀγνοεῖς, ἐπιμελέστερον πολυπραγμόνησον, ἐγὼ δ’ οὖν ἐρῶ τοῦτο. ἐκεῖνος ἐνόμιζεν οὐδὲν ἀνίατον εἶναι τῇ φιλοσοφίᾳ, πάντας δὲ ἐκ πάντων ὑπ’ αὐτῆς καθαίρεσθαι βίων, ἐπιτηδευμάτων, ἐπιθυμιῶν, πάντων ἁπαξαπλῶς τῶν τοιούτων. εἰ γὰρ τοῖς εὖ πεφυκόσι καὶ καλῶς τεθραμμένοις ἐπήρκει μόνον, οὐδὲν ἂν ἦν θαυμαστὸν τὸ κατ’ αὐτήν· εἰ δὲ καὶ τοὺς οὕτω διακειμένους ἀνάγει πρὸς τὸ φῶς, δοκεῖ μοι διαφερόντως εἶναι θαυμάσιον. ἐκ τούτων ἡ περὶ σέ μοι κατ’ ὀλίγον γνώμη, ὡς ἴσασιν οἱ θεοὶ πάντες, ἔρρεπεν ἐπὶ τὸ βέλτιον. οὔτοι γοῦν οὔτε ἐν πρώτοις οὔτε ἐν δευτέροις τῶν κρατίστων ἐθέμην ἀνδρῶν τὸ κατὰ σέ. ἐπίστασαι ἴσως αὐτός· εἰ δὲ ἀγνοεῖς, τοῦ καλοῦ Συμμάχου πυνθάνου. πέπεισμαι γάρ, ἐκεῖνος ὅτι οὔποτ’ ἂν ἑκὼν εἶναι ψεύσαιτο, τὰ πάντα ἀληθίζεσθαι πεφυκώς. εἰ δὲ ἀγανακτεῖς, ὅτι μὴ πάντων σε προυτιμήσαμεν, ἐγὼ μὲν ἐμαυτῷ, ὅτι σε καὶ ἐν ἐσχάτοις ἔταξα, μέμφομαι, καὶ χάριν οἶδα τοῖς θεοῖς πᾶσί τε καὶ πάσαις, οἳ κοινωνῆσαί σε πραγμάτων καὶ φίλους ἡμᾶς γενέσθαι διεκώλυσαν […] καὶ γὰρ εἰ πολλὰ περὶ τῆς φήμης οἱ ποιηταί φασιν ὡς ἔστι θεός, ἔστω δέ, εἰ βούλει, δαιμόνιόν γε τὸ τῆς φήμης, οὐ πάνυ τι προσεκτέον αὐτῇ, διότι πέφυκε τὸ δαιμόνιον οὐ πάντα καθαρὸν οὐδὲ ἀγαθὸν τελείως ὡς τὸ τῶν θεῶν εἶναι γένος, ἀλλ’ ἐπικοινωνεῖ πως καὶ πρὸς θάτερον. εἰ δὲ ὑπὲρ τῶν ἄλλων δαιμόνων οὐ θέμις τοῦτο φάναι, περὶ τῆς φήμης οἶδ’ ὅτι λέγων ὡς πολλὰ μὲν ψευδῶς, πολλὰ δὲ ἀληθῶς ἀγγέλλει, οὔποτ’ ἂν αὐτὸς ἁλοίην ψευδομαρτυριῶν. Ἀλλὰ τὴν παρρησίαν τὴν σὴν οἴει τεττάρων εἶναι ὀβολῶν, τὸ λεγόμενον, ἀξίαν; οὐκ οἶσθ’ ὅτι καὶ Θερσίτης ἐν τοῖς Ἕλλησιν ἐπαρρησιάζετο, καὶ Ὀδυσσεὺς μὲν αὐτὸν ὁ συνετώτατος ἔπαι ετῷ σκήπτρῳ, τῷ δὲ Ἀγαμέμνονι τῆς Θερσίτου παροινίας ἔλαττον ἔμελεν ἢ χελώνῃ μυιῶν, τὸ τῆς παροιμίας; πλὴν οὐ μέγα ἔργον ἐστὶ νἐπιτιμᾶν ἄλλοις, ἑαυτὸν δὲ ἀνεπιτίμητον παρασχεῖν. εἰ δέ σοι ταύτης μέτεστι τῆς μερίδος, ἐπίδειξον ἡμῖν. ἆρ’ ὅτε νέος ἦσθα, καλὰς ἔδωκας ὑπὲρ σαυτοῦ τοῖς πρεσβυτέροις ὁμιλίας; ἀλλ’ ἐγὼ κατὰ τὴν Εὐριπίδειον Ἤλεκτραν τὰς τοιαύτας σιγῶ τύχας. ἐπεὶ δὲ ἀνὴρ γέγονας καὶ στρατοπέδῳ παρέβαλες, ἔπραξας πῶς πρὸς τοῦ Διός; ὑπὲρ τῆς ἀληθείας φὴς προσκρούσας ἀπηλλάχθαι. ἐκ τίνων τοῦτο ἔχων δεῖξαι, ὥσπερ οὐ πολλῶν καὶ πονηροτάτων, ὑφ’ ὧνπερ καὶ αὐτὸς ἀπηλάθης, ἐκτοπισθέντων; οὐ τοῦτό ἐστιν, ὦ συνετώτατε Διονύσιε, σπουδαίου καὶ σώφρονος ἀνδρός, ἀπεχθανόμενον ἀπελθεῖν τοῖς κρατοῦσιν. ἦσθα δὲ ἂν βελτίων, εἰ τοὺς ἀνθρώπους ἐκ τῆς πρὸς σεαυτὸν συνουσίας ἀπέφηνας ἡμῖν μετριωτέρους. ἀλλὰ τοῦτο μὲν οὐ κατὰ σέ, μὰ τοὺς θεούς, οὐδὲ κατὰ μυρίους ἄλλους, ὅσοι ζηλοῦσι τὸν σὸν τρόπον· πέτραι γὰρ πέτραις καὶ λίθοι λίθοις προσαραττόμενοι οὐκ ὠφελοῦσι μὲν ἀλλήλους, ὁ δ’ ἰσχυρότερος τὸν ἥττονα εὐχερῶς συντρίβει. Ἆρα μὴ Λακωνικῶς ταῦτα καὶ συντόμως λέγω; ἀλλ’ ἐγὼ μέν οἶμαι λαλίστερος διὰ σὲ καὶ τῶν Ἀττικῶν ἀποπεφάνθαι τεττίγων. ὑπὲρ δὲ ὧν εἰς ἐμὲ πεπαρῴνηκας, ἐπιθήσω σοι δίκην τὴν πρέπουσαν, ἐθελόντων θεῶν καὶ τῆς δεσποίνης Ἀδραστείας. τίς οὖν ἡ δίκη καὶ τί μάλιστα τὸ δυνάμενόν σου τὴν γλῶτταν καὶ τὴν διάνοιαν ὀδυνῆσαι; ὡς ἐλάχιστα πειράσομαι διά τε τῶν λόγων καὶ διὰ τῶν ἔργων ἐξαμαρτὼν μὴ παρασχέσθαι σου τῇ κακηγόρῳ γλώττῃ πολλὴν φλυαρίαν. καίτοι με οὐ λέληθεν, ὅτι καὶ τῆς Ἀφροδίτης φασὶν ὑπὸ τοῦ Μώμου ἐσκῶφθαι τὸ σάνδαλον. ἀλλ’ ὁρᾷς ὅτι πολλὰ καὶ ὁ Μῶμος ἐρρήγνυτο, καὶ μόλις ἐλαμβάνετο τοῦ σανδάλου. εἴη δὲ καὶ σὲ περὶ ταῦτα τριβόμενον καταγηρᾶσαι καὶ τοῦ Τιθωνοῦ βαθύτερον καὶ τοῦ Κινύρου πλουσιώτερον καὶ τοῦ Σαρδαναπάλου τρυφηλότερον, ὅπως τὸ τῆς παροιμίας ἐπὶ σοῦ πληρωθῇ Δὶς παῖδες οἱ γέροντες. Ἀλλ’ ὁ θεσπέσιος Ἀλέξανδρος ἐκ τίνων ἐφάνη σοι τηλικοῦτος; ἆρ’ ὅτι μιμητὴς αὐτοῦ γενόμενος ἐζήλωσας ὅσα ἐκείνῳ τὸ μειράκιον ὁ Ἑρμόλαος ὠνείδισεν; ἢ τοῦτο μὲν οὐδεὶς οὕτως ἐστὶν ἀνόητος ὡς ὑπονοῆσαι περὶ σοῦ· τοὐναντίον δὲ καὶ ὅπερ ἀπωδύρετο παθὼν Ἑρμόλαος, καὶ διόπερ διενοεῖτο τὸν Ἀλέξανδρον, ὥς φασιν, ἀποκτεῖναι, τοῦτο δὲ οὐδεὶς ὅστις πεπεισμένος οὐκ ἔστι περὶ σοῦ; πολλῶν δὲ ἐγὼ νὴ τοὺς θεοὺς καὶ σφόδρα σε φαμένων φιλεῖν ἀκήκοα πολλὰ ὑπὲρ ταύτης ἀπολογουμένων τῆς ἁμαρτίας, ἤδη δέ τινος καὶ ἀπιστοῦντος. ἀλλ’ οὗτός ἐστιν ἡ μία χελιδών, οὐ ποιεῖ τὸ ἔαρ. ἀλλ’ ἴσως ἐκεῖθεν Ἀλέξανδρος ὤφθη σοι μέγας, ὅτι Καλλισθένη μὲν ἀπέκτεινε πικρῶς, Κλεῖτος δὲ αὐτοῦ τῆς παροινίας ἔργον ἐγένετο, Φιλώτας τε καὶ Παρμενίων καὶ τὸ Παρμενίωνος παιδίον. ἐπεὶ τὰ περὶ τὸν Ἕκτορα τὸν ἐν Αἰγύπτῳ τοῦ Νείλου ταῖς δίναις ἢ ταῖς Εὐφράτου· λέγεται γὰρ ἑκάτερον· ἐναποπνιγέντα καὶ τὰς ἄλλας αὐτοῦ παιδιὰς σιωπῶ, μὴ βλασφημεῖν ἄνδρα δόξω τὸ κατωρθωμένον μὲν οὐδαμῶς ἔχοντα, κράτιστον μέντοι τὰ πολεμικὰ στρατηγόν. ὧν σὺ κατὰ τὴν προαίρεσιν καὶ κατὰ τὴν ἀνδρείαν ἔλαττον μετέχεις ἢ τριχῶν ἰχθύες. ἄκουε δὴ τῆς παραινέσεως μὴ λίαν ὀργίλως, οὔ τοι, τέκνον ἐμόν, δέδοται πολεμήια ἔργα, τὸ δὲ ἑξῆς οὐ παραγράφω σοι, αἰσχύνομαι γὰρ νὴ τοὺς θεούς. ἀξιῶ μέντοι σε προσυπακούειν αὐτό· καὶ γὰρ εὔλογον ἕπεσθαι τοῖς ἔργοις τοὺς λόγους, ἀλλὰ μὴ φεύγειν τὰ ῥήματα τὸν μηδαμῶς διαπεφευγότα τὰ ἔργα. Ἀλλ’ ὁ τὴν Μαγνεντίου καὶ Κώνσταντος ὁσίαν αἰσχυνόμενος, ἀνθ’ ὅτου τοῖς ζῶσι πολεμεῖς καὶ τοῖς ὁπωσοῦν βελτίστοις λοιδορῇ; πότερον ὅτι μᾶλλον ἐκεῖνοι δύνανται τῶν ζώντων ἀμύνεσθαι τοὺς λυποῦντας; ἀλλὰ σοὶ τοῦτο οὐ προσήκει λεγειν· εἶ γάρ, ὡς γράφεις, θαρραλεώτατος. ἀλλ’ εἰ μὴ τοῦτο, τυχὸν ἕτερον· ὡς γὰρ οὐκ αἰσθανομένους ἐπισκώπτειν ἴσως οὐ βούλει. τῶν ζώντων δὲ ἆρά τις οὕτως εὐήθης ἐστὶν ἢ μικρόψυχος, ὃς ἀξιώσειεν ἂν αὑτοῦ παρὰ σοὶ λόγον εἶναί τινα, καὶ οὐ βουλήσεται μάλιστα μὲν ἀγνοεῖσθαι παρὰ σοῦ παντάπασιν, εἰ δ’ ἀδύνατον εἴη, λοιδορεῖσθαι παρὰ σοῦ μᾶλλον, καθάπερ ἐγὼ νῦν, ἢ τιμᾶσθαι; μήποτε οὕτω κακῶς φρονήσαιμι, μήποτε τῶν παρὰ σοῦ μᾶλλον ἐπαίνων ἢ ψόγων ἀντιποιησαίμην. Ἀλλ’ αὐτὸ τοῦτο τὸ γράφειν πρὸς σε δακνομένου τυχὸν ἴσως ἐστίν; οὐ μὰ τοὺς θεοὺς τοὺς σωτῆρας, ἀλλ’ ἐπικόπτοντος τὴν ἄγαν αὐθάδειαν καὶ τὴν θρασύτητα καὶ τὴν ἀκολασίαν τὴν τῆς γλώττης καὶ τὸ τῆς ψυχῆς ἄγριον καὶ τὸ μαινόμενον τῶν φρενῶν καὶ τὸ παρακεκινηκὸς ἐν πᾶσιν. ἐξῆν γοῦν, εἴπερ ἐδεδήγμην, ἔργοις ἀλλὰ μὴ λόγοις σε σφόδρα νομίμως κολάσαι. πολίτης γὰρ ὢν καὶ τῆς γερουσίας μετέχων αὐτοκράτορος ἐπίταγμα παρῃτήσω· τοῦτο δὲ οὐκ ἐξῆν δήπουθεν τῷ μὴ μεγάλην ἀνάγκην προϊσχομένῳ. οὔκουν ἐξήρκει μοι ὑπὲρ τούτου ζημιῶσαί σε παντοίαν ζημίαν, ἀλλ’ ᾠήθην δεῖν γράψαι πρός σε πρῶτον, νομίζων ἰάσιμον ἐπιστολίῳ βραχεῖ. ὡς δέ ς̓ ἐμμένοντα τοῖς αὐτοῖς, μᾶλλον δὲ τὸ λεληθὸς τέως τῆς μανίας ἐφώρασα, […] μή τι καὶ νομισθείης ἀνήρ, οὐκ ἀνὴρ ὤν, καὶ παρρησίας μεστός, ἐμβροντησίας ὢν πλήρης, καὶ παιδείας μετεσχηκώς, οὐδὲ γρὺ λόγων ἁψάμενος, ὅσα γε εἰκός ἐστι ταῖς ἐπιστολαῖς σου τεκμήρασθαι. τὸ γὰρ φροῦδον οὐδεὶς εἶπε τῶν ἀρχαίων ἐπὶ τοῦ προφανοῦς, ὥσπερ σὺ νῦν, ἐπεὶ τὰς ἄλλας σου τῆς ἐπιστολῆς ἁμαρτίας οὐδεὶς ἂν ἐπεξελθεῖν ἐν μακρῷ βιβλίῳ δυνηθείη καὶ τὸ μαστροπὸν ἐκεῖνο καὶ βδελυρὸν ἦθος, ὑφ’ οὗ σεαυτὸν προαγωγεύεις. οὐ γὰρ τοὺς ἐξ ἑτοίμου φὴς ἥκοντας οὐδὲ τοὺς ἐφεδρεύοντας ταῖς ἀρχαῖς, ἀλλὰ τοὺς βεβαίᾳ κρίσει χρωμένους καὶ κατὰ τοῦτο τὸ δέον αἱρουμένους τούτους δεῖν, ἀλλ’ οὐ τοὺς ἑτοίμως ὑπακούοντας, αἱρεῖσθαι. καλάς γε ἡμῖν ἐλπίδας ὑποφαίνεις οὐδὲν δεομένοις ὡς ὑπείξων, ἢν αὖθίς σε καλῶμεν ἐπὶ κοινωνίαν πραγμάτων. ἐμοὶ δὲ τοσοῦτον μέρος τούτου περίεστιν, ὥστε σε, τῶν ἄλλων εἰσιεμένων, οὐδὲ προσείρηκα πώποτε. καίτοι γε πρὸς πολλοὺς ἔγωγε τοῦτο ἐποίησα γνωρίμων τε καὶ ἀγνοουμένων ἐμοὶ κατὰ τὴν θεοφιλῆ Ῥώμην διατρίβοντας. οὕτω σου τῆς φιλίας ἀντεποιούμην, οὕτω σε σπουδῆς ἄξιον ᾠόμην. εἰκὸς οὖν ὅτι καὶ τὰ μέλλοντα πρός σε τοιαῦτα ἔσται. καὶ γὰρ νῦν ἔγραψα ταυτηνὶ τὴν ἐπιστολήν, οὐ σοὶ μόνον ἀνάγνωσμα, ἐπεὶ καὶ ἀναγκαίαν πολλοῖς αὐτὴν ᾔδειν, καὶ δώσω γε πᾶσιν οὐκ ἄκουσιν, ὡς ἐμαυτὸν πείθω, ληψομένοις· σεμνότερον γὰρ ὁρῶντές σε καὶ ὀγκωδέστερον τῶν ἔμπροσθέν σοι βεβιωμένων ἄχθονται. Τελείαν ἔχεις παρ’ ἡμῶν τὴν ἀπόκρισιν, ὥστε σε μηδὲν ἐπιποθεῖν. οὔκουν οὐδὲ ἡμεῖς παρὰ σοῦ τι πλέον ἀπαιτοῦμεν· ἀλλ’ ἐντυχών, εἰς ὅ τι βούλει τοῖς γράμμασι χρῆσαι· τὰ γὰρ τῆς ἡμετέρας φιλίας πεπέρανταί σοι. ἔρρωσο τρυφῶν καὶ λοιδορούμενος ἐμοὶ παραπλησίως.