Letter 687
To Maximus. (362)
What I would have done for Socrates, had I lived in Socrates' time, when the beasts were upon him — three sycophants — I thought I must now do for the man who has emulated Socrates.
I would have done these things not out of fear that the accused might suffer something terrible — for it is nothing to philosophers to be released from the body, indeed the greatest good — but knowing that a man who philosophizes is an immense benefit to mankind, and this is not much less than having the gods mingle with humans, advising and assisting, as we hear the poets tell.
For these reasons I hate the followers of Anytus [one of Socrates' accusers]. On your behalf I called upon the gods — for that is the alliance I can offer — and I was not initiating a favor with those concerns, but repaying one.
I think everyone owes you gratitude, for you are a common benefactor of all land and sea that is not barbarian, having nurtured and fashioned for us an emperor supreme in all things [Julian], so that those who formerly called the dead blessed would now wish to reach the old age of Arganthonius, first praying for that same long life for him.
You seem to me now to be at his side, delighting, not laboring — for you have nothing to correct in his actions, but rejoice at each one performed with complete virtue. By saying you will come to us and promising, you have set our city all astir, as we imagine what a sight it would be: Phoenix following Achilles.
But I seem to have made an imperfect comparison. For how can that pair equal this one? I shall search for a fitting image at leisure. But may you come and show yourselves to those who long for you — since even your forerunner, the noble Pythodoros, has proved of great worth to the cities.
For he brought the worship of the gods to its peak, sprinkling every altar with blood and showing that one must sacrifice boldly. And those who had been hesitant followed, leaping with joy.
Let him, then, go everywhere doing the same. As for me, I could have replied at length, but it seemed better to send my reply through a man resembling the one who brought yours, so that in this at least I might imitate you.
And I think I do no wrong in enrolling Fortunatianus in the company of philosophers. For neither his military cloak nor his barber will be an obstacle, I trust.
Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.