And when they saw our sage in Ionia and he had arrived in Ephesus, even the mechanics would not remain at their handicrafts, but followed him, one admiring his wisdom, another his beauty, another his way of life, another his bearing, some of them everything alike about him. Reports also were current about him which originated from various oracles; thus from the oracle at Colophon it was announced that he shared its peculiar wisdom and was absolutely wise, and so forth; from that of Didyma similar rumors emanated, as also from the shrine of Pergamon; for the God urged not a few of these who were in need of health to betake themselves to Apollonius, for this was what “he himself approved and was pleasing to the Fates.” Deputations also waited upon him from various cities offering him their hospitality, and asking his advise about life in general as well as about the dedication of altars and images; and he regulated their several affairs in some case by letter, but in others he said would visit them. And the city of Smyrna also sent a deputation, but they would not say what they wanted, though they besought him to visit them; so he asked the legate what they wanted of him, but he merely said, “to see him and to be seen.” So Apollonius said: “I will come, but, O ye Muses, grant that we may also like one another.”

The first discourse then which he delivered was to the Ephesians from the platform of their temple, and its tone was not that of the Socratic school; for he dissuaded and discouraged them from other pursuits, and urged them to fill Ephesus with real study rather than with idleness and revelry such as he found around him there; for they were devoted to dancers and taken up with pantomimes, and the whole city was full of pipers, and full of effeminate rascals, and full of noise. So, though the Ephesians had come over to him, he determined not tot wink at such things, but cleared them out and made them odious to most of them.

His other discourses he delivered under the trees which grow hard by the cloisters; and in these he dealt with the question of communism, and taught that they ought to support and be supported by one another. While he was doing so on one occasion, sparrows were sitting quite silent upon the trees, but one of them suddenly set to chirping as it flew up, just as if he had some exhortations to give to his fellows; and the latter, on hearing it, themselves set up a chirping and rose and flew up under the guidance of the one. Now Apollonius went on with his argument, for he knew what it was that made the sparrows take wing, but he did not explain the matter to the multitude who were listening to him; but when they all looked at the birds and some of them in their silliness thought it a miraculous occurrence, Apollonius interrupted his argument and said: “A boy has slipped who was carrying some barley in a bowl, and after carelessly gathering together what was fallen, he has gone off, leaving much of if scattered about it in yonder alley, and this sparrow, witnessing the occurrence has come here to acquaint his fellows with the good luck, and to invite them to come and eat it with him.”

Most of his audience accordingly ran off to the spot, but Apollonius continued to those who remained with him the discourse he had proposed to himself on the topic of communism; and when they returned talking loudly and full of wonder, he continued thus: “You see how the sparrows care for one another and delight in communism, but we are far from approving of it, nay, should we happen to see anyone sharing his own in common with others, we set him down as a spendthrift and talk about his extravagance and so forth, while as for those who are supported by him, we call them parasites and flatterers. What then is left for us to do, except to shut ourselves up like birds that are being fed up and fattened, and gorge ourselves in the dark until we literally burst with fat?”

A pestilence was creeping over Ephesus; but the disease had not yet reached its full violence, before Apollonius understood that it was approaching, and impressed with the danger he foretold it, and interspersed his discourses with such exclamations as “O earth, remain true to thyself!” and he added in a tone of menace such appeals as these: “Do thou preserve these men here,” and “Thou shalt not pass hither.” But his hearers did not attend to these warnings and thought them mere rodomontade, all the more because they saw him constantly visiting all the temples in order to avert and deprecate the calamity. And since they conducted themselves so foolishly in respect of the scourge, he thought that it was not necessary to do anything more for them, but began a tour of the rest of Ionia, regulating their several affairs, and from time to time recommending in his discourses what was salutary for his audiences.

But when he came to Smyrna the Ionians went out to meet him, for they were just celebrating the pan-Ionian sacrifices. And he there read a decree of the Ionians, in which they besought him to take part in their solemn meeting; and in it he met with a name which had not at all an Ionian ring, for a certain Lucullus had signed the resolution. He accordingly sent a letter to their council expressing his astonishment at such an instance of barbarism; for he had, it seems, also found the name Fabricius and other such names in the decrees. The letter on this subject shows how sternly he reprimanded them.

And on another day he presented himself before the meeting of the Ionians, and asked: “What is this cup?” And they answered: “It is the pan-Ionian cup.” Whereupon he took a draught from it and poured a libation, saying: “O ye Gods, who are patrons of the Ionians, may ye grant to this fair colony to enjoy safety at sea, and that no disaster may wreak itself on them by land therefrom, and that Aegaeon, the author of earthquakes, may never shake down their cities.” These words he uttered under divine impulse, because he foresaw, as I believe, the disasters which afterwards betook Smyrna and Miletus and Chios and Samos and several of the Iades.

And remarking the zeal with which the people of Smyrna devoted themselves to all sorts of compositions, he encouraged them and increased their zeal, and urged them to take pride rather in themselves than in the beauty of their city; for although they had the most beautiful of cities under the sun, and although they had a friendly sea at their doors, which held the springs of the zephyr, nevertheless, it was more pleasing for the city to be crowned with men than with porticos and pictures, or even with gold in excess of what they needed. For, he said, public edifices remain where they are, and are nowhere seen except in that particular part of the earth where they exist, but good men are conspicuous everywhere, and everywhere they utter their thoughts; and so they can magnify the city more to which they belong, in proportion to the numbers in which they are able to visit any part of the earth.“

And he said that cities which are beautiful in the same way as Smyrna was, resemble the statue of Zeus wrought in Olympia by Phidias; for there Zeus sits, just as it pleased the artist that he should, whereas men who visit all regions of the earth may be well compared with the Homeric Zeus, who is represented by Homer under many shapes, and is a more wonderful creation than the image made of ivory; for the latter is only to be seen upon earth, but the former is an ideal presence imagined everywhere in heaven.

And in his discussions, moreover, with the people of Smyrna he wisely taught them also how best to guarantee the security of those who live in the cities, for he saw that they were at issue with one another and did not agree in their ideals. He accordingly told them that for a city to be rightly conducted by its inhabitants, you need a mixture of concord with party spirit; and as this utterance seemed inadmissible and hardly logical, Apollonius realizing that most of them did not follow his argument, added: “White and black can never be one and the same, nor can bitter be wholesomely blended with sweet; but concord can be blended with party spirit to secure the safety of the cities. And let us consider my meaning to be somewhat as follows: Far be from your city the factiousness which leads men to draw swords and to stone one another; for in a city we need our children to be brought up properly, and we need laws, and we need inhabitants equally versed in discussion and in deeds. But mutual rivalry between men in behalf of the common weal, and with the object that one should give better advice than another, and that one should discharge better than another the duties of magistrate, and that one should discharge the office of an ambassador or of an aedile more brilliantly than his fellows—here,” he said, “I think you have a worthy rivalry and a real contention among yourselves in behalf of the common weal. But that one person should practice one thing and another another with a view to benefiting the city seemed of old a foolish thing to the Lacedaemonians, because they only cultivated the arts of war, and because they all strengthened themselves for this end and interested themselves in nothing else; but to me it seems best that each man should do what he understands best and what he best can do. For that city will recline in peace, nay, will rather stand up erect, where one man is admired for his popular influence, and another for his wisdom, and another for his liberal expenditure on public objects, and another for his kindliness, and another for his severity and unbending sternness towards malefactors, and another because his hands are pure beyond suspicion.”

And as he was thus discoursing, he saw a ship with three masts leaving the harbor, of which the sailors were each discharging their particular duties in working it out to sea. Accordingly, calling the attention of his audience he said: “Now look at that ship's crew, how some of them being rowers have embarked in the tug-boats, while others are winding up and making fast the anchors, and others again are spreading the sails to the wind, and others are keeping an outlook at bow and stern. Now if a single member of this community abandoned any one of his particular tasks or went about his naval duties in an inexperienced manner, they would have a bad voyage and would themselves impersonate the storm; but if they vie with one another and are rivals only with the object of one showing himself as good a man as the other, then their ship will make the best of all havens, and all their voyage be one of fair weather and fair sailing, and the precaution they exercise about themselves will prove to be as valuable as if Poseidon our Lord of safety were watching over them.”

With such harangues as these he knit together the people of Smyrna; but when the plague began to rage in Ephesus, and no remedy sufficed to check it, they sent a deputation to Apollonius, asking him to become physician of their infirmity; and he thought that he ought not to postpone his journey, but said: “Let us go.” And forthwith he was in Ephesus, performing the same feat, I believe, as Pythagoras, who was in Thurii and Metapontum at one and the same moment. He therefore called together the Ephesians, and said: “Take courage, for I will today put a stop to the course of the disease.” And with these words he led the population entire to the theater, where the image of the Averting god has been set up. And there he saw what seemed an old mendicant artfully blinking his eyes as if blind, as he carried a wallet and a crust of bread in it; and he was clad in rags and was very squalid of countenance. Apollonius therefore ranged the Ephesians around him and said: “Pick up as many stones as you can and hurl them at this enemy of the gods.” Now the Ephesians wondered what he meant, and were shocked at the idea of murdering a stranger so manifestly miserable; for he was begging and praying them to take mercy upon him. Nevertheless Apollonius insisted and egged on the Ephesians to launch themselves on him and not let him go. And as soon as some of them began to take shots and hit him with their stones, the beggar who had seemed to blink and be blind, gave them all a sudden glance and his eyes were full of fire. Then the Ephesians recognized that he was a demon, and they stoned him so thoroughly that their stones were heaped into a great cairn around him. After a little pause Apollonius bade them remove the stones and acquaint themselves with the wild animal they had slain. When therefore they had exposed the object which they thought they had thrown their missiles at, they found that he had disappeared and instead of him there was a hound who resembled in form and look a Molossian dog, but was in size the equal of the largest lion; there he lay before their eyes, pounded to a pulp by their stones and vomiting foam as mad dogs do. Accordingly the statue of the Averting god, Heracles, has been set up over the spot where the ghost was slain.

Having purged the Ephesians of the plague, and having had enough of the people of Ionia, he started for Hellas. Having made his way then to Pergamun, and being pleased with the temple of Asclepius, he gave hints to the supplicants of the god, what to do in order to obtain favorable dreams; and having healed many of them he came to the land of Ilium. And when his mind was glutted with all the traditions of their past, he went to visit the tombs of the Achaeans, and he delivered himself of many speeches over them, and he offered many sacrifices of a bloodless and pure kind; and then he bade his companions go on board ship, for he himself, he said, must spend a night on the mound of Achilles. Now his companions tried to deter him—for in fact the sons of Dioscorus and the Phaedimi, and a whole company of such already followed in the train of Apollonius—alleging that Achilles was still dreadful as a phantom; for such was the conviction about him of the inhabitants of Ilium. “Nevertheless,” said Apollonius, “I know Achilles well and that he thoroughly delights in company; for he heartily welcomed Nestor when he came from Pylos, because he always had something useful to tell him; and he used to honor Phoenix with the title of foster-father and companion and so forth, because Phoenix entertained him with his talk; and he looked most mildly upon Priam also, although he was his bitterest enemy, so soon as he heard him talk; and when in the course of a quarrel he had an interview with Odysseus, he made himself so gracious that Odysseus thought him more handsome than terrible.

For, I think that his shield and his plumes that wave so terribly, as they say, are a menace to the Trojans, because he can never forget what he suffered at their hands, when they played him false over the marriage. But I have nothing in common with Ilium, and I shall talk to him more pleasantly than his former companions; and if he slays me, as you say he will, why then I shall repose with Memnon and Cycnus, and perhaps Troy will bury me “in a hollow sepulcher” as they did Hector.” Such were his words to his companions, half playful and half serious, as he went up alone to the barrow; but they went on board ship, for it was already evening.

But Apollonius came about dawn to them and said: “Where is Antisthenes of Paros”? And this person had joined their society seven days before in Ilium. And when Antisthenes answered that he was there, he said: “Have you, O young man, any Trojan blood in your veins?” “Certainly I have,” he said, “for I am a Trojan by ancestry.” “And a descendant of Priam as well?” asked Apollonius. “Why yes, by Zeus,” answered the other, “and that is why I consider myself a good man and of good stock.” “That explains then,” said the sage, “why Achilles forbids me to associate with you; for after he bade me go as his deputy to the Thessalians in the matter of a complaint which he has against them, and I asked him whether there was anything else which I could do to please him, 'yes', he said, 'you must take care not to initiate the young man from Paros in your wisdom, for he is too much of a descendant of Priam, and the praise of Hector is never out of his mouth.'”

Accordingly, Antisthenes went off though against his will; and when the day broke and the wind off shore increased in strength, and the ship was ready to put to sea, it was invaded in spite of its small dimensions by a number of other people who were anxious to share the voyage with Apollonius; for it was already autumn and the sea was not much to be trusted. They all then regarded Apollonius as one who was master of the tempest and of fire and of perils of all sorts, and so wished to go on board with him. But as the company was many times too great for the ship, spying a larger ship—for there were many in the neighborhood of the tomb of Ajax—he said: “Let us go on board this, for it is a good thing to get home safely with as many as may be.” He accordingly doubled the promontory of Troy, and then commanded the pilot to shape his course towards the country of the Aeolians, which lies over against Lesbos, and then to turn as close as he could to Methymna, and there to cast anchor. For there it was, he said, that Achilles declared Palamedes lay,, where also they would find his image a cubit high, representing however a man older than was ever Palamedes. And at the moment of disembarking from the ship, he said: “Let us show our respect, O ye Greeks, for so good a man to whom we owe all wisdom. For we shall anyhow prove ourselves better men than the Achaeans, if we pay tribute to the excellence of one whom they so unjustly slew.” They then had hardly leapt of the ship, when he hit upon the tomb and found the statue buried beside it. And there were inscribed on the base of the statue the words: “To the divine Palamedes.” He accordingly set it up again in its place, as I myself saw; and he raised a shrine around it of the size which the worshippers of the goddess of the crossways, called Enodia, use; for it was large enough for ten persons at once to sit and drink and keep good cheer in; and having done so he offered up the following prayer: “O Palamedes, do thou forget the wrath, wherewith thou wast wroth against the Achaeans, and grant that men may multiply in numbers and wisdom. Yea, O Palamedes, author of all eloquence, author the Muses, author of myself.”

He also visited in passing the shrine of Orpheus when he had put in at Lesbos. And they tell that it was here that Orpheus once on a time loved to prophesy, before Apollo had turned his attention to him. For when the latter found that men no longer flocked to Gryneium for the sake of oracles nor to Clarus nor (to Delphi) where is the tripod of Apollo, and that Orpheus was the only oracle, his head having come from Thrace, he presented himself before the giver of oracles and said: “Cease to meddle with my affairs, for I have already put up long enough with your vaticinations.”

After this they continued their voyage along the sea of Euboea, which Homer considered to be one of the most dangerous and difficult to traverse. However the sea was smooth and was much better than you expected in that season; and their conversation turned upon the many and famous islands they were visiting, and upon shipbuilding and pilotage and other topics suitable to a voyage. But as Damis found fault with some of the things they said, and cut short many of their remarks, and would not allow some of their questions to be put, Apollonius realized that he was anxious to discuss some other topic and said: “What ails you, Damis, that you break in on the course of our questions in this way? For I am sure that it is not because you are seasick or in any way inconvenienced by the voyage, that you object to our conversation; for you see how smoothly our ship is wafted over her bosom by the submissive sea. Why then are you so uneasy?” “Because,” replied the other, “when a great topic suggests itself, which we surely ought rather to be asking about, we are asking questions about these threadbare and antiquated subjects.” “And what,” said Apollonius, “may be this topic which makes you regard all others as superfluous?” “You have,” he answered, “had an interview with Achilles, O Apollonius, and probably you have heard him speak at length of many things so far unknown to ourselves; and yet you tell us nothing about these, nor do you describe to us the figure of Achilles, but you fill you conversation with talk of the islands we are sailing round and of ship-building.” “If you will not accuse me of bragging,” said Apollonius, “you shall ear everything.”

The rest of the company also besought him to tell them all about it, and as they were in a mood to listen to him, he said: “Well, it was not by digging a ditch like Odysseus, nor by tempting souls with the blood of sheep, that I obtained a conversation with Achilles; but I offered up the prayer which the Indians say they use in approaching their heroes. 'O Achilles,' I said, 'most of mankind declare that you are dead, but I cannot agree with them, nor can Pythagoras, my spiritual ancestor. If then we hold the truth, show to us your own form; for you would profit not a little by showing yourself to my eyes, if you should be able to use them to attest your existence.' Thereupon a slight earthquake shook the neighborhood of the barrow, and a youth issued forth five cubits high, wearing a cloak of Thessalian fashion; but in appearance he was by no means the braggart figure which some imagine Achilles to have been. Though he was stern to look upon, he had never lost his bright look; and it seems to me that his beauty has never received its meed of praise, even though Homer dwelt at length upon it; for it was really beyond the power of words, and it is easier for the singer to ruin his fame in this respect than to praise him as he deserved. At first sight he was of the size which I have mentioned, but he grew bigger, till he was twice as large and even more than that; at any rate he appeared to me to be twelve cubits high just at that moment when he reached his complete stature, and his beauty grew apace with his length. He told me then that he had never at any time shorn off his hair, bit preserved it to inviolate for the river Spercheus, for this was the river of his first intimacy; but on his cheeks you saw the first down.

And he addressed me and said: 'I am pleased to have met you, since I have long wanted a man like yourself. For the Thessalians for a long time past have failed to present their offerings to my tomb, and I do not yet wish to show my wrath against them; for if I did so, they would perish more thoroughly than ever the Hellenes did on this spot; accordingly I resort to gentle advice, and would warn them not to violate ancient custom, nor to prove themselves worse men than the Trojans here, who though they were robbed of so many of their heroes by myself, yet sacrifice publicly to me, and also give me the tithes of their fruits of season, and olive branch in hand ask for a truce from my hostility. But this I will not grant, for the perjuries which they committed against me will not suffer Ilium ever to resume its pristine beauty, nor to regain the prosperity which yet has favored many a city that was destroyed of old; nay, if they rebuild it, things shall go as hard with them as if their city had been captured only yesterday. In order then to save me from bringing the Thessalian polity then to the same condition, you must go as my envoy to their council in behalf of the object I have mentioned.' 'I will be your envoy,' I replied, 'for the object of my embassy were to save them from ruin. But, O Achilles, I would ask something of you.' 'I understand,' said he, 'for it is plain you are going to ask about the Trojan war. So ask me five questions about whatever you like, and that the Fates approve of.' I accordingly asked him firstly, if he had obtained burial in accordance with the story of the poets. 'I lie here,' he answered, 'as was most delightful to myself and Patroclus; for you know we met in mere youth, and a single golden jar holds the remains of both of us, as if we were one. But as for the dirges of the Muses and Nereids, which they say are sung over me, the Muses, I may tell you, never once came here at all, though the Nereids still resort to the spot.' Next I asked him, if Polyxena was really slaughtered over his tomb; and he replied that this was true, but that she was not slain by the Achaeans, but that she came of her own free will to the sepulcher, and that so high was the value she set on her passion for him and she for her, that she threw herself upon an upright sword. The third questions was this: 'Did Helen, O Achilles, really come to Troy or was it Homer that was pleased to make up the story?' 'For a long time,' he replied, 'we were deceived and tricked into sending envoys to the Trojans and fighting battles in her behalf, in the belief that she was in Ilium, whereas she really was living in Egypt and in the house of Proteus, whither she had been snatched away by Paris. But when we became convinced thereof, we continued to fight to win Troy itself, so as not to disgrace ourselves by retreat.' The fourth question which I ventured upon was this: 'I wonder,' I said, 'that Greece ever produced at any one time so many and such distinguished heroes as Homer says were gathered against Troy.' But Achilles answered: 'Why even the barbarians did not fall far short of us, so abundantly then did excellence flourish all over the earth.' And my fifth question was this: 'Why was it that Homer knew nothing about Palamedes, or if he knew him, then kept him out of your story?' 'If Palamedes,' he answered, 'never came to Troy, then Troy never existed either. But since this wisest and most warlike hero fell in obedience to Odysseus' whim, Homer does not introduce him into his poems, lest he should have to record the shame of Odysseus in his song.' And withal Achilles raised a wail over him as over one who was the greatest and most beautiful of men, the youngest and also the most warlike, one who in sobriety surpassed all others, and had often foregathered with the Muses. 'But you,' he added, 'O Apollonius, since sages have a tender regard for one another, you must care for his tomb and restore the image of Palamedes that has been so contemptuously cast aside; and it lies in Aeolis close to Methymna in Lesbos.' Wit these words and with the closing remarks concerning the youth from Paros, Achilles vanished with a flash of summer lightning, for indeed the cocks were already beginning their chant.”

So much for the conversation on board; but having sailed into the Piraeus at the season of the mysteries, when the Athenians keep the most crowded of Hellenic festivals, he went post haste up from the ship into the city; but as he went forward, he fell in with quite a number of students of philosophy on their way down to Phaleron. Some of them were stripped and enjoying the heat, for in autumn the sun is hot upon the Athenians; and others were studying books, and some were rehearsing their speeches, and others were disputing. But no one passed him by, for they all guessed that it was Apollonius, and they turned and thronged around him and welcomed him warmly; and ten youths in a body met him and holding up their hands to the Acropolis, they cried: “By Athena yonder, we were on the point of going down to the Piraeus there to take ship to Ionia in order to visit you.” And he welcomed them and said how much he congratulated them on their study of philosophy.

It was then the day of the Epidaurian festival, at which it is still customary for the Athenians to hold the initiation at a second sacrifice after both proclamation and victims have been offered; and this custom was instituted in honor of Asclepius, because they still initiated him when on one occasion he arrived from Epidaurus too late for the mysteries. Now most people neglected the initiation and hung around Apollonius, and thought more of doing that than of being perfected in their religion before they went home; but Apollonius said that he would join them later on, and urged them to attend at once to the rites of the religion, for that he himself would be initiated. But the hierophant was not disposed to admit him to the rites, for he said that he would never initiate a wizard and charlatan, nor open the Eleusinian rite to a man who dabbled in impure rites. Thereupon Apollonius, fully equal to the occasion, said: “You have not yet mentioned the chief of my offense, which is that knowing, as I do, more about the initiatory rite than you do yourself, I have nevertheless come for initiation to you, as if you were wiser than I am.” The bystanders applauded these words, and deemed that he had answered with vigor and like himself; and thereupon the hierophant, since he saw that his exclusion of Apollonius was not by any means popular with the crowd, changed his tone and said: “Be thou initiated, for thou seemest to be some wise man who has come here.” But Apollonius replied: “I will be initiated at another time, and it is so and so,” mentioning a name, “who will initiate me.” Herein he showed his gift of prevision, for he glanced at the hierophant who succeeded the one he addressed, and presided over the temple four years later.

Many were the discourses which according to Damis the sage delivered at Athens; though he did not write down all of them, but only the more indispensable ones in which he handled great subjects. He took for the topic of his first discourse the matter of rite and ceremonies, and this because he saw that the Athenians were much addicted to sacrifices; and in it he explained how a religious man could best adapt his sacrifice, his libations, or prayers to any particular divinity, and at what hours of day and night he ought to offer them. And it is possible to obtain a book of Apollonius, in which he gives instructions in his own words. But Athens he discussed these topics with a view to improving his own wisdom and that of others in the first place, and in the second of convincing the hierophant of blasphemy and ignorance in the remarks he had made; for who could continue to regard as one impure in his religion a man who taught philosophically how the worship of the gods is to be conducted?

Now while he was discussing the question of libations, there chanced to be present in his audience a young dandy who bore so evil a reputation for licentiousness that his conduct had long been the subject of coarse street-corner songs. His home was Corcyra, and he traced his pedigree to Alcinous the Phaeacian who entertained Odysseus. Apollonius then was talking about libations, and was urging them not to drink out of a particular cup, but to reserve it for the gods, without ever touching it or drinking out of it. But when he also urged them to have handles on the cup, and to pour the libation over the handle, because that is the part at which men are least likely to drink, the youth burst out into loud and coarse laughter, and quite drowned his voice. Then Apollonius looked up and said: “It is not yourself that perpetrates this insult, but the demon, who drives you without your knowing it.” And in fact the youth was, without knowing it, possessed by a devil; for he would laugh at things that no one else laughed at, and then would fall to weeping for no reason at all, and he would talk and sing to himself. Now most people thought that it was boisterous humor of youth which led him into excesses; but he was really the mouthpiece of a devil, though it only seemed a drunken frolic in which on that occasion he was indulging. Now, when Apollonius gazed on him, the ghost in him began to utter cries of fear and rage, such as one hears from people who are being branded or racked; and the ghost swore that he would leave the you man alone and never take possession of any man again. But Apollonius addressed him with anger, as a master might a shifty, rascally, and shameless slave and so on, and he ordered him to quit the young man and show by a visible sign that he had done so. “I will throw down yonder statue,” said the devil, and pointed to one of the images which were there in the king's portico, for there it was that the scene took place. But when the statue began by moving gently, and then fell down, it would defy anyone to describe the hubbub which arose thereat and the way they clapped their hand with wonder. But the young man rubbed his eyes as if he had just woke up, and he looked towards the rays of the sun, and assumed a modest aspect, as all had their attention concentrated on him; for he no longer showed himself licentious, nor did he stare madly about, but he had returned to his own self, as thoroughly as if he had been treated with drugs; and he gave up his dainty dress and summery garments and the rest of his sybaritic way of life, and he fell in love with the austerity of philosophers, and donned their cloak, and stripping off his old self modeled his life and future upon that of Apollonius.

And he is said to have rebuked the Athenians for their conduct of the festival of Dionysus, which they hold at the season of the month Anthesterion. For when he saw them flocking to the theater he imagined that the were going to listen to solos and compositions in the way of processional and rhythmic hymns, such as are sung in comedies and tragedies; but when he heard them dancing lascivious jigs to the rondos of a pipe, and in the midst of the sacred epic of Orpheus striking attitudes as the Hours, or as nymphs, or as bacchants, he set himself to rebuke their proceedings and said: “Stop dancing away the reputations of the victors of Salamis as well as of many other good men deported this life. For if indeed this were a Lacedaemonian form of dance, I would say, 'Bravo, soldiers; for you are training yourselves for war, and I will join in your dance'; but as it is a soft dance and one of effeminate tendency, what am I to say of your national trophies? Not as monuments of shame to the Medians or Persians, but to your own shame they will have been raised, should you degenerate so much from those who set them up. And what do you mean by your saffron robes and your purple and scarlet raiment? For surely the Acharnians never dressed themselves up in this way, nor ever the knights of Colonus rode in such garb. A woman commanded a ship from Caria and sailed against you with Xerxes, and about her there was nothing womanly, but she wore the garb and armor of a man; but you are softer than the women of Xerxes’ day, and you are dressing yourselves up to your own despite, old and young and striplings alike, all those who of old flocked to the temple of Agraulus in order to swear to die in battle on behalf of the fatherland. And now it seems that the same people are ready to swear to become bacchants and don the thyrsus in behalf of their country; and no one bears a helmet, but “disguised as female harlequins,” to use the phrase of Euripides, they shine in shame alone. Nay more, I hear that you turn yourselves into winds, and wave your skirts, and pretend that you are ships bellying their sails aloft. But surely you might at least have some respect for the winds that were your allies and once blew mightily to protect you, instead of turning Boreas who was your patron, and who of all the winds is the most masculine, into a woman; for Boreas would never have become the lover of Oreithya, if he had seen her executing, like you, a skirt dance.”

He also corrected the following abuse at Athens. The Athenians ran in crowds to the theater beneath the Acropolis to witness human slaughter, and the passion for such sports was stronger there than it is in Corinth today; for they would buy for large sums adulterers and fornicators and burglars and cut-purses and kidnappers and such-like rabble, and then they took them and armed them and set them to fight with one another. Apollonius then attacked these practices, and when the Athenians invited him to attend their assembly, he refused to enter a place so impure and reeking with gore. And this he said in an epistle to them; he said that he was surprised “that the goddess had not already quitted the Acropolis, when you shed such blood under her eyes. For I suspect that presently, when you are conducting the pan-Athenaic procession, you will no longer be content with bull, but will be sacrificing hecatombs of men to the goddess. And thou, O Dionysus, dost thou after such bloodshed frequent their theater? And do the wise among the Athenians pour libations to thee there? Nay do thou depart, O Dionysus. Holier and purer is thy Cithaeron.”

Such were the more serious of the subjects which I have found he treated of at that time in Athens in his philosophical discourses.

And he also went as envoy to the Thessalians in behalf of Achilles at the time of the conferences held in Pylaea, at which the Thessalians transact the Amphictyonic business. And they were so frightened that they passed a resolution for the resumption of the ceremonies at the tomb. As for the monument of Leonidas the Spartan, he almost clasped it in his arms, so great was his admiration for the hero; and as he was coming to the mound where the Lacedaemonians are said to have been overwhelmed by the bolts which the enemy rained upon them, he heard his companions discussing with one another which was the loftiest hill in Hellas, this topic being suggested it seems by the sight of Oeta which rose before their eyes; so ascending the mound, he said: “I consider this the loftiest spot of all, for those who fell here in defense of freedom raised it to a level with Oeta and carried it to a height surpassing many mountains like Olympus. It is these men that I admire, and beyond any of them Megistias the Acarnanian; for he knew the death that they were about to die, and deliberately made up his mind to share in it with these heroes, fearing not so much death, as the prospect that he should miss death in such company.”

And he also visited all the Greek shrines, namely that of Dodona, and the Pythian temple, and the one at Abae, and he betook himself to those of Amphiaraus and of Trophonius, and he went up to the shrine of the Muses on Mount Helicon. And when he visited these temples and corrected the rites, the priests went in his company, and the votaries followed in his steps, and goblets were set up flowing with rational discourse and the thirsty quaffed their wine. And as the Olympic Games were coming on, and the people of Elis invited him to take part in the contest, he answered: “You seem to me to tarnish the glory of the Olympic Games, if you need to send special invitations to those who intend to visit you at their own promptings.” And as he was at the Isthmus, when the sea was roaring around Lechaeum and hearing it, he said: “This neck of land shall be cut through, or rather it shall not be cut.” And herein he uttered a prediction of the cutting of the Isthmus which was attempted soon afterwards, when Nero after seven years projected it. For the latter left his imperial palace and came to Hellas, with the intention of submitting himself to the heralds' commands, in the Olympic and Pythian festivals; and he also won the prize at the Isthmus, his victories being won in the contest of singing to the harp and in that of the heralds. And he also won the prize for the tragedians at Olympia. It is said that he then formed the novel project of cutting through the Isthmus, in order to make a canal of it for ships to sail through and not right round, uniting the Aegean with the Adriatic Sea. So instead of every ship having to round Cape Malea , most by passing through the canal so cut could abridge an otherwise circuitous voyage. But mark the upshot of the oracle of Apollonius. They began to dig the canal at Lechaeum, but they had not advanced more than about four stadia of continuous excavation, when Nero stopped the work of cutting it. Some say because Egyptian men of science explained him the nature of the seas, and declared that the sea above Lechaeum would flood and obliterate the island of Aegina, and others because he apprehended a revolution in the empire. Such then was the meaning of Apollonius’ prediction that the Isthmus would be cut through and would not be cut through.

Now there was in Corinth at that time a man named Demetrius, who studied philosophy and had embraced in his system all the masculine vigor of the Cynics. Of him Favorinus in several of his works subsequently made the most generous mention, and his attitude towards Apollonius was exactly that which they say Antisthenes took up towards the system of Socrates: for he followed him and was anxious to be his disciple, and was devoted to his doctrines, and converted to the side of Apollonius the more esteemed of his own pupils. Among the latter was Menippus a Lycian of twenty-five years of age, well endowed with good judgment, and of a physique so beautifully proportioned that in mien he resembled a fine and gentlemanly athlete. Now this Menippus was supposed by most people to be loved by a foreign woman, who was good-looking and extremely dainty, and said that she was rich; although she was really, as it turned out, not one of these things, but was only so in semblance. For as he was walking all alone along the road towards Cenchraea, he met with an apparition, and it was a woman who clasped his hand and declared that she had been long in love with him, and that she was a Phoenician woman and lived in a suburb of Corinth, and she mentioned the name of the particular suburb, and said: “When you reach the place this evening, you will hear my voice as I sing to you, and you shall have wine such as you never before drank, and there will be no rival to disturb you; and we two beautiful beings will live together.” The youth consented to this, for although he was in general a strenuous philosopher, he was nevertheless susceptible to the tender passion; and he visited her in the evening, and for the future constantly sought her company as his darling, for he did not yet realize that she was a mere apparition.

Then Apollonius looked over Menippus as a sculptor might do, and he sketched an outline of the youth and examined him, and having observed his foibles, he said: “You are a fine youth and are hunted by fine women, but in this case you are cherishing a serpent, and a serpent cherishes you.” And when Menippus expressed his surprise, he added: “For this lady is of a kind you cannot marry. Why should you? Do you think that she loves you?” “Indeed I do,” said the youth, “since she behaves to me as if she loves me.” “And would you then marry her?” said Apollonius. “Why, yes, for it would be delightful to marry a woman who loves you.” Thereupon Apollonius asked when the wedding was to be. “Perhaps tomorrow,” said the other, “for it brooks no delay.” Apollonius therefore waited for the occasion of the wedding breakfast, and then, presenting himself before the guests who had just arrived, he said: “Where is the dainty lady at whose instance ye are come?” “Here she is,” replied Menippus, and at the same moment he rose slightly from his seat, blushing. “And to which of you belong the silver and gold and all the rest of the decorations of the banqueting hall?” “To the lady,” replied the youth, “for this is all I have of my own,” pointing to the philosopher's cloak which he wore.

And Apollonius said: “Have you heard of the gardens of Tantalus, how they exist and yet do not exist?” “Yes,” they answered, “in the poems of Homer, for we certainly never went down to Hades.” “As such,” replied Apollonius, “you must regard this adornment, for it is not reality but the semblance of reality. And that you may realize the truth of what I say, this fine bride is one of the vampires, that is to say of those beings whom the many regard as lamias and hobgoblins. These beings fall in love, and they are devoted to the delights of Aphrodite, but especially to the flesh of human beings, and they decoy with such delights those whom they mean to devour in their feasts.” And the lady said: “Cease your ill-omened talk and begone”; and she pretended to be disgusted at what she heard, and in fact she was inclined to rail at philosophers and say that they always talked nonsense. When, however, the goblets of gold and the show of silver were proved as light as air and all fluttered away out of their sight, while the wine-bearers and the cooks and all the retinue of servants vanished before the rebukes of Apollonius, the phantom pretended to weep, and prayed him not to torture her nor to compel her to confess what she really was. But Apollonius insisted and would not let her off, and then she admitted that she was a vampire, and was fattening up Menippus with pleasures before devouring his body, for it was her habit to feed upon young and beautiful bodies, because their blood is pure and strong. I have related at length, because it was necessary to do so, this the best-known story of Apollonius; for many people are aware of it and know that he incident occurred in the center of Hellas; but they have only heard in a general and vague manner that he once caught and overcame a lamia in Corinth, but they have never learned what she was about, nor that he did it to save Menippus, but I owe my own account to Damis and to the work which he wrote.

It was at this time also that he had a difference with Bassus of Corinth; for the latter was regarded as a parricide and believed to be such. But he feigned a wisdom of his own, and no bridle could be set upon his tongue. However, Apollonius put a stop to his reviling himself, both by the letters which he sent him, and the harangues which he delivered against him. For everything which he said about his being a parricide was held to be true; for it was felt that such a man would never have condensed to mere personal abuse, not to have said what was not true.

The career of our sage in Olympia was as follows: when Apollonius was on his way up to Olympia, some envoys of the Lacedaemonians met him and asked him to visit their city; there seemed, however, to be no appearance of Sparta about them, for they conducted themselves in a very effeminate manner and reeked of luxury. And seeing them to have smooth legs, and sleek hair, and that they did not even wear beards, nay were even dressed in soft raiment, he sent such a letter to the Ephors that the latter issued a public proclamation and forbade the use of pitch plasters in the baths 1, and drove out of the city the men who professed to rejuvenate dandies 2, and they restored the ancient régime in every respect. The consequence was that the wrestling grounds were filled once more with the youth, and the jousts and the common meals were restored, and Lacedaemon became once more like herself. And when he learned that they had set their house in order, he sent them an epistle from Olympia, briefer than any cipher dispatch of ancient Sparta; and it ran as follows:—

“Apollonius to the Ephors sends salutation.

“It is the duty of men not to fall into sin, but of noble men, to recognize that they are doing so.”

And looking at the statue set up at Olympia, he said: “Hail, O thou good Zeus, for thou art so good that thou dost impart thine own nature unto mankind.” And he also gave them an account of the brazen statue of Milo and explained the attitude of this figure. For this Milo is seen standing on a disk with his two feet close together, and in his left hand he grasps a pomegranate, whole of his right hand the fingers are extended and pressed together as if to pass through a chink. Now among the people of Olympia and Arcadia the story told about this athlete is, that he was so inflexible that he could never be induced to leave the spot on which he stood; and they infer the grip of the clenched fingers from the way he grasps the pomegranate, and that they could never be separated from another, however much you struggled with any one of them, because the intervals between the extended fingers are very close; and they say that the fillet with which his head is bound is a symbol of temperance and sobriety. Apollonius while admitting that this account was wisely conceived, said that the truth was still wiser. “In order that you may know,” said he, “the meaning of the statue of Milo, the people of Croton made this athlete a priest of Hera. As to the meaning then of this mitre, I need not explain it further than by reminding you that the hero was a priest. But the pomegranate is the only fruit which is grown in honor of Hera; and the disk beneath his feet means that the priest is standing on a small shield to offer his prayer to Hera; and this is also indicated by his right hand. As for the artist's rendering the fingers and feet, between which he has left no interval, that you may ascribe to the antique style of the sculpture.”

He was present at the rites, and he commended the solicitude with which the people of Elis administered them, and the good order with which they conducted them, as if they considered themselves to be as much on trial as the athletes who were contending for the prizes, anxious neither willing nor unwillingly to commit any error. And when his companions asked him what he thought of the Eleans in respect of their management of the Olympic games, he replied: “Whether they are wise, I do not know, but of their cleverness I am quite sure.”

How great a dislike he entertained of people who imagine they can write, and how senseless he considered those to be who essay a literary task beyond their powers, we can learn from the following incident: A young man who thought he had talent met him in the precincts of the temple and said: “Pray honor me with your presence tomorrow, for I am going to recite something.” When Apollonius asked him what he was going to recite, he replied: “I have composed a treatise upon Zeus.” And as he said these words he showed, with no little pride at its stoutness, a book which he was carrying under his garments. “And,” said Apollonius, “what are you going to praise about Zeus? Is it the Zeus of this fane, and are you going to say that there is nothing like him on the whole earth?” “Why that, of course,” said the other, “and a great deal more that comes before that and also follows it. For I shall say how the seasons and how everything on earth and above the earth, and how the winds and all the stars belong to Zeus.” And Apollonius said: “It seems to me that you are a past-master of encomium.” “Yes,” said the other, “and that is why I have composed an encomium of gout and of blindness and deafness.” “And why not of dropsy too,” said Apollonius; “for surely you won't rule out influenza from the sphere of your cleverness, since you are minded to praise such things? And while you are about it, you do as well to attend funerals and detail the praises of the various diseases of which the people died; for so you will somewhat soothe the regrets of the fathers and children and the near relations of the deceased.” And as he saw that the effect of his words was to put a bridle on the young man's tongue, he added: “My dear author, which is the author of a panegyric likely best to praise, things which he knows or things which he does not?” “Things which he knows,” said the youth. “For how can a man praise things which he does not know?” “I conclude then that you have already written a panegyric of your own father?” “I wanted to,” said the other, “but as he appears to me rather a big man and a noble one, and the fairest of men I know, and a very clever housekeeper, and a paragon of wisdom all round, I gave up the attempt to compose a panegyric upon him, lest I should disgrace my father by a discourse which would not do him justice.” Thereupon Apollonius was incensed, as he often was against trivial and vulgar people. “Then,” said he, “you wretch, you are not sure that you can ever sufficiently praise your own father whom you know as well as you do yourself, and yet you set out in this light-hearted fashion to write an encomium of the father of men and of gods and of the creator of everything around us and above us; and you have no reverence for him whom you praise, nor have you the least idea that you are embarking on a subject which transcends the power of man.”

The conversations which Apollonius held in Olympia turned upon the most profitable topics, such as wisdom and courage and temperance, and in a word upon all the virtues. He discussed these from the platform of the temple, and he astonished everyone not only by the insight he showed but by his forms of expression. And the Lacedaemonians flocked round him and invited him to share their hospitality at their shrine of Zeus, and made him father of their youths at home, and legislator of their lives and the honor of their old men. Now there was a Corinthian who felt piqued at all this, and asked whether they were also going to celebrate a theophany for him. “Yes,” said the other, “by Castor and Pollux, everything is ready anyhow.” But Apollonius did not encourage them to pay him such honors, for he feared they would arouse envy. And when having crossed the mountain Taygetus, he saw a Lacedaemon hard at work before him and all the institutions of Lycurgus in full swing, he felt that it would be a real pleasure to converse with the authorities of the Lacedaemonians about things which they might ask his opinion upon; so they asked him when he arrived how the gods are to be revered, and he answered: “As your lords and masters.” Secondly, they asked him: “And how the heroes?” “As fathers,” he replied. And their third question was: “How are men to be revered?” And he answered: “Your question is not one which any Spartan should put.” They asked him also what he thought of their laws, and he replied that they were most excellent teachers, adding that teachers will gain fame in proportion as their disciples are industrious. And when they asked him what advice he had to give them about courage, he answered: “Why what else, but that you should display it?”

And about this time it happened that a certain youth of Lacedaemon was charged by his fellow citizens with violating the customs of his country. For though he was descended from Callicratidas who led the navy at the battle of Arginusae, yet he was devoted to seafaring and paid not attention to public affairs; but, instead of doing so, would sail off to Carthage or Sicily in the ships which he had had built. Apollonius then hearing that he was arraigned for this conduct, thought it a pity to desert the youth who had just fallen under the hand of justice, and said to him: “My excellent fellow, why do you go about so full of anxiety and with such a gloomy air?” “A public prosecution,” said the other, “has been instituted against me, because I go in for seafaring and take no part in public affairs.” “And was your father or your grandfather a mariner?” “Of course not,” said the other; “they were all of them chiefs of the gymnasium and Ephors and public guardians; Callicratidas, however, my ancestor, was a real admiral of the fleet.” “I suppose,” said Apollonius, “you hardly mean him of Arginusae fame?” “Yes, that fell in the naval action leading his fleet.” “Then,” said Apollonius, “your ancestor's mode of death has not given you any prejudice against a seafaring life?” “No, by Zeus,” said the other, “for it is not with a view to conducting battles by sea that I set sail.” “Well, and can you mention any rabble of people more wretched and ill-starred than merchants and skippers? In the first place they roam from sea to sea, looking for some market that is badly stocked; and then they sell and are sold, associating with factors and brokers, and they subject their own heads to the most unholy rate of interest in their hurry to get back to the principal; and if they do well, their ship has a lucky voyage, and they tell you a long story of how they never wrecked it either willingly or unwillingly; but if their gains do not balance their debts, they jump into their long boats and dash their ships on to the rocks, and make no bones as sailors of robbing others of their substance, pretending in the most blasphemous manner that it is an act of God. And even if the seafaring crowd who go on voyages be not so bad as I make them out to be; yet is there any shame worse than this, for a man who is a citizen of Sparta and the child of forbears who of old lived in the heart of Sparta, to secrete himself in the hold of a ship, oblivious of Lycurgus and Iphitus, thinking of nought but of cargoes and petty bills of lading? For if he thinks of nothing else, he might at least bear in mind that Sparta herself, so long as she stuck to the land, enjoyed a fame reaching to heaven; but when she began to covet the sea, she sank down and down, and was blotted out at last, not only on the sea but on the land as well.” The young man was so overcome by these arguments, that he bowed his head to the earth and wept, because he heard he was so degenerate from his fathers; and he sold the ships by which he lived. And when Apollonius saw that he was restored to his senses and inclined to embrace a career on land, he led him before the Ephors and obtained his acquittal.

Here is another incident that happened in Lacedaemon. A letter came from the Emperor heaping reproaches upon the public assembly of the Lacedaemonians, and declaring that in their license they abused liberty, and this letter had been addressed to them at the instance of the governor of Greece, who had maligned them. The Lacedaemonians then were at a loss what to do, and Sparta was divided against herself over the issue, whether in their reply to the letter they should try to appease the Emperor's wrath or take a lofty tone towards him. Under the circumstances they sought the counsel of Apollonius and asked him how to pitch the tone of their letter. And he, when he saw them to be divided on the point, came forward in their public assembly and delivered himself of the following short and concise speech: “Palamedes discovered writing not only in order that people might write, but also in order that they might know what they must not write.” In this way accordingly he dissuaded the Lacedaemonians from showing themselves to be either too bold or cowardly.

He stayed in Sparta for some time after the Olympic Festival, until the winter was over; and at the beginning of the spring proceeded to Malea with the intention of setting out for Rome. But while he was still pondering this project, he had the following dream: It seemed as if a woman both very tall and venerable in years embraced him, and asked him to visit her before he set sail for Italy; and she said that she was the nurse of Zeus, and she wore a wreath that held everything that is on the earth or in the seas. He proceeded to ponder the meaning of the vision, and came to the conclusion that he ought first to sail to Crete, which we regard as the nurse of Zeus, because in that island Zeus was born; although the wreath might perhaps indicate some other island. Now there were several ships at Malea, making ready to set sail to Crete, so he embarked upon one sufficient for his association, which is the title he gave to his companions, and also his companions' servants, for he did not think it right to pass over the latter. And he bent his course for Cydonia, and sailed past that place to Knossus, where a labyrinth is shown, which, I believe, once on a time, contained the Minotaur. As his companions were anxious to see this he allowed them to do so, but refused himself to be a spectator of the injustice of Minos, and continued his course to Gortyna because he longed to visit Ida. He accordingly climbed up, and after visiting the sacred sites he passed on to the shrine of Lebena. And this is a shrine of Asclepius, and just as the whole of Asia flocks to Pergamon, so the whole of Crete flocked to this shrine; and many Libyans also cross the sea to visit it, for it faces towards the Libyan sea close to Phaestus, where the little rock keeps out a might sea. And they say that this shrine is named that of Lebena, because a promontory juts out from it which resembles a lion, for here, as often, a chance arrangement of the rocks suggests an animal form; and they tell a story about this promontory, how it was once one of the lion which were yoked in the chariot of Rhea. Here Apollonius was haranguing on one occasion about midday, and was addressing quite a number of people who were worshipping at the shrine, when an earthquake shook the whole of Crete at once, and a roar of thunder was heard to issue not from the clouds but from the earth, and the sea receded about seven stadia. And most of them were afraid that the sea by receding in this way would drag the temple after it, so that they would be carried away. But Apollonius said: “Be of good courage, for the sea has given birth and brought forth land.” And they thought that he was alluding to the harmony of the elements, and was urging that the sea would never wreak any violence upon the land; but after a few days some travelers arrived from Cydoniatis and announced that on the very day on which this portent occurred and just at the same hour of midday, an island rose out of the sea in the firth between Thera and Crete. However, I must give up all prolixity and hurry on to relate the conversations which he held in Rome, subsequently to his stay in Crete.

Nero was opposed to philosophy, because he suspected its devotees to be addicted to magic, and of being diviners in disguise; and at last the philosopher's mantle brought its wearers before the law courts, as if it were a mere cloak of the divining art. I will not mention other names, but Musonius of Babylon, a man only second to Apollonius, was thrown into prison for the crime of being a sage, and there lay in danger of death; and he would have died for all his gaoler cared, of it had not been for the strength of his constitution.

Such was the condition in which philosophy stood when Apollonius was approaching Rome; and at a distance of one hundred and twenty stadia from its walls he met Philolaus of Cittium in the neighborhood of the Grove of Aricia. Now Philolaus was a polished speaker, but too soft to bear any hardships. He had quitted Rome, and was virtually a fugitive, and any philosopher he met with he urged to take the same course. He accordingly addressed himself to Apollonius, and urged him to give way to circumstances, and not to proceed to Rome, where philosophy was in such bad odor; and he related to him what had taken place there, and as he did so he kept turning his head round, lest anybody should be listening behind him to what he said. “And you,” he said, “after attaching this band of philosophers to yourself, a thing which will bring you into suspicion and odium, are on your way thither, knowing nothing of the officers set over the gates by Nero, who will arrest you and them before ever you enter or get inside.” “And what,” said Apollonius, “O Philolaus, are the occupations of the autocrat said to be?” “He drives a chariot,” said the other, “in public; and he comes forward on the boards of the Roman theaters and sings songs, and he lives with gladiators, and hem himself fights as one and slays his man.” Apollonius therefore replied and said: “Then, my dear fellow, do you think that there can be any better spectacle for men of education than to see an emperor thus demeaning himself? For if in Plato's opinion man is the sport of the gods, what a theme we have here provided for philosophers by an emperor who makes himself the sport of man and sets himself to delight the common herd with the spectacle of his own shame?” “Yes, by Zeus,” said Philolaus, “if you could do it with impunity; but if you are going to be taken up and lose your life, and if Nero is going to devour you alive before you see anything of what he does, your interview with him will cost you dear, much dearer than it ever cost Ulysses to visit the Cyclops in his home; though he lost many of his comrades in his anxiety to see him, and because he yielded to the temptation of beholding so cruel a monster.” But Apollonius said: “So you think that this ruler is less blinded than the Cyclops, if he commits such crimes?” And Philolaus answered: “Let him do what he likes, but do you at least save these your companions.”

And these words he uttered in a loud voice and with an air of weeping; whereupon Damis conceived a fear lest the younger men of his party should be unmanned by the craven terrors of Philolaus. So he took aside Apollonius and said: “This hare, with all his panicky fears, will ruin these young men, and fill them with discouragement.” But Apollonius said: “Well, of all the blessings which have been vouchsafed to me by the gods, often without my praying for them at all, this present one, I may say, is the greatest that I have ever enjoyed; for chance has thrown in my way a touchstone to test these young men, of a kind to prove most thoroughly which of them are philosophers, and which of them prefer some other line of conduct than that of philosopher.” And in fact the knock-kneed among them were detected in no time, for under the influence of what Philolaus said, some of them declared that they were ill, others that they had no provisions for the journey, others that they were homesick, others that they had been deterred by dreams; and in the result thirty-four companions of Apollonius were willing to accompany him to Rome were reduced to eight. And all the rest ran away from Nero and philosophy, both at once, and took to their heels.

He therefore assembled those who were left, among whom were Menippus, who had foregathered with the hobgoblin, and Dioscorides the Egyptian, and Damis, and said to them: “I shall not scold those who have abandoned us, but I shall rather praise you for being men like myself: nor shall I think a man a coward because he has disappeared out of dread of Nero, but anyone who rises superior to such fear I will hail as a philosopher, and I will teach him all I know. I think then that we ought first of all to pray to the gods who have suggested these different courses to you and to them; and then we ought to solicit their direction and guidance, for we have not any succor to rely upon apart from the gods. We must then march forward to the city which is the mistress of so much of the inhabited world; but how can anybody go forward thither, unless the gods are leading him? The more so, because a tyranny has been established in this city so harsh and cruel, that it does not suffer men to be wise. And let not anyone think it foolish so to venture along a path which many philosophers are fleeing from; for in the first place I do not esteem any human agency so formidable that a wise man can ever be terrified by it; and in the second place, I would not urge upon you the pursuit of bravery, unless it were attended with danger. Moreover, in traversing more of the earth than any man yet has visited, I have seen hosts of Arabian and Indian wild beasts; but as to this wild beast, which many call a tyrant, I know not either how many heads he has, nor whether he has crooked talons and jagged teeth. In any case, though this monster is said to be a social beast and to inhabit the heart of cities, yet he is also much wilder and fiercer in his disposition than animals of the mountain and forest, that whereas you can sometimes tame and alter the character of lions and leopards by flattering them, this one is only roused to greater cruelty than before by those who stroke him, so that he rends and devours all alike. And again there is no animal anyhow of which you can say that it ever devours its own mother, but Nero is gorged with such quarry. It is true, perhaps, that the same crime was committed in the case of Orestes and Alcmaeon, but they had some excuse for their deeds, in that the father of the one was murdered by his own wife, while the other's had been sold for a necklace; this man, however, has murdered the very mother to whom he owes his adoption by the aged emperor and his inheritance of the empire; for he shipwrecked and so slew her close to land in a vessel built for the express purpose of doing her to death. If, however, anyone is disposed to dread Nero for these reasons, and is led abruptly to forsake philosophy, conceiving that it is not safe for him to thwart his evil temper, let him know that the quality of inspiring fear really belongs to those who are devoted to temperance and wisdom, because they are sure of divine succor. But let him snap his fingers at the threats of the proud and insolent, as he would at those of drunken men; for we regard the latter surely as daft and silly, but not as formidable. Let us then go forward to Rome, if we are good men and true; for to Nero's proclamations in which he banishes philosophy, we may well oppose the verse of Sophocles:

”'For in no wise was it Zeus who made this proclamation unto me,'

nor the Muses either, nor Apollo the god of eloquence. But it may well be that Nero himself knows this iambic line, for he is, they say, addicted to tragedy.”

This occasion reminds one of the saying of Homer, that when warriors are knit together with reason, they become as it were a single plume and helmet, and a single shield; and it seems to me that this very sentiment found its application in regard to these heroes; for they were welded together and encouraged by the words of Apollonius to die in behalf of their philosophy, and strengthened to show themselves superior to those who had run away.

They accordingly approached the gates of Rome, and the sentries asked them no questions, although they scanned their dress with some curiosity; for the fashion of it was that of religious ascetics, and did not in the least resemble that of beggars. And they put up at an inn close to the gate, and were taking their supper, for it was already eventide, when a drunken fellow with a far from harsh voice turned up as it were for a revel; and he was one it seems who was in the habit of going round about Rome singing Nero's songs and hired for the purpose, and anyone who neglected to listen to him or refused to pay him for his music, he had the right to arrest for violating Nero's majesty. And he carried a harp and all the outfit proper for a harpist, and he also had put away in a casket a second-hand string which others had fastened on their instruments and tuned up before him, and this he said he had purchased off Nero's own lyre for two minas, and that he would sell it to no one who was not a first-rate harpist and fit to contend for the prize at Delphi. He then struck up a prelude, according to his custom, and after performing a short hymn composed by Nero, he added various lays, some out of the story of Orestes, and some from the Antigone, and others from one or another of the tragedies composed by Nero, and he proceeded to drawl out the rondos which Nero was in the habit of murdering by his miserable writhings and modulations. As they listened with some indifference, he proceeded to accuse them of violating Nero's majesty and of being enemies of his divine voice; but they paid no attention to him. Then Menippus asked Apollonius how he appreciated these remarks, whereupon he said: “How do I appreciate them? Why, just a I did his songs. Let us, however, O Menippus, not take too much offence at his remarks, but let us give him something for his performance and dismiss him to sacrifice to the Muses of Nero.”

So ended the episode of this poor drunken fool. But at daybreak Telesinus, one of the consuls, called Apollonius to him, and said: “What is this dress which you wear?” And he answered: “A pure garment made from no dead matter.” “And what is your wisdom?” “An inspiration,” answered Apollonius, “which teaches men how to pray and sacrifice to the gods.” “And is there anyone, my philosopher, who does not know that already?” “Many,” said the sage, “and if there is here and there a man who understands these matters aright, he will be very much improved by hearing from a man who is wiser than himself that, what he knows, he knows for a certainty.” When Telesinus heard this, for he was a man fairly disposed to worship and religion, he recognized the sage from the rumors which he had long before heard about him; and though he did not think he need openly ask him his name, in case he wished to conceal his identity from anyone, he nevertheless led him on to talk afresh about religion, for he was himself an apt reasoner, and feeling that he was addressing a sage, he asked: “What do you pray for when you approach the altars?” “I,” said Apollonius, “for my part pray that justice may prevail, that the laws may not be broken, that the wise may continue to be poor, but that others may be rich, as long as they are so without fraud.” “Then,” said the other, “when you ask for so much, do you think you will get it?” “Yes, by Zeus,” said Apollonius, “for I string together all my petitions in a single prayer, and when I reach the altars this is how I pray: 'O ye gods, bestow on me whatever is due.' If therefore I am of the number of worthy men, I shall obtain more than I have said; but if the gods rank me among the wicked, then they will send to me the opposite of what I ask; and I shall not blame the gods, because for my demerit I am judged worthy of evil.” Telesinus then was greatly struck by these words, and wishing to show him a favor, he said: “You may visit all the temples, and written instructions shall be sent by me to the priests who minister in them to admit you and adopt your reforms.” “And supposing you did not write,” said Apollonius, “would they not admit me?” “No, by Zeus,” said he, “for that is my own office and prerogative.” “I am glad,” said Apollonius, “that so generous a man as yourself holds such a high office, but I would like you to know this much too about me: I like to live in such temples as are not too closely shut up, and none of the gods object to my presence, for they invite me to share their habitation. So let this liberty too be accorded to me, inasmuch as even the barbarians always permitted it.” And Telesinus said: “The barbarians have more to be proud of in this matter than the Romans, for I would that as much could be said of ourselves.” Apollonius accordingly lived in the temples, though he changed them and passed from one to another; and when he was blamed for doing so, he said: “Neither do the gods live all their time in heaven, but they take journeys to Ethiopia, as also to Olympus and to Athos, and I think it is a pity that the gods should go roaming around all the nations of men, and yet that men should not be allowed to visit all the gods alike. What is more, though masters would incur no reproach for neglecting slaves, for whom they probably may feel a contempt because they are not good, yet the slaves who did not devote themselves wholly to their masters, would be destroyed by them as cursed wretches and chattels hateful to the gods.”

The result of his discourses about religion was that the gods were worshipped with more zeal, and that men flocked to the temples where he was, in the belief that by doing so they would obtain an increase of divine blessings. And our sage's conversations were so far not objected to, because he held them in public and addressed himself to all men alike; for he did not hover about rich men's doors, nor hang about the mighty, though he welcomed them if they resorted to him, and he talked with them just as much as he did to the common people.

Now Demetrius being attracted to Apollonius, as I have said above in my account of the events at Corinth, betook himself subsequently to Rome, and proceeded to court Apollonius, at the same time that he launched out against Nero. In consequence our sage's profession was looked at askance, and he was thought to have set Demetrius on to proceed thus, and the suspicion was increased on the occasion of Nero's completion of the most magnificent gymnasium in Rome: for the auspicious day was being celebrated therein by Nero himself and the great Senate and all the knights of Rome, when Demetrius made his way into the gymnasium itself and delivered himself of a philippic against people who bathed, declaring that they enfeebled and polluted themselves; and he showed that such institutions were a useless expense. He was only saved from immediate death as the penalty of such language by the fact that Nero was in extra good voice when he sang on that day, and he sang in the tavern which adjoined the gymnasium, naked except for a girdle round his waste, like any low tapster. Demetrius, however, did not wholly escape the risk which he had courted by his language; for Tigellinus, to whom Nero had committed the power of life and death, proceeded to banish him from Rome, on the plea that he had ruined and overthrown the bath by the words he used; and he began to dog the steps of Apollonius secretly, in the hope that he would catch him out too in some compromising utterance.

The latter, however, showed no disposition to ridicule the government, nor on the other hand did he display any of the anxiety usually felt by those who are on their guard against some danger. He merely continued to discuss in simple and adequate terms the topics laid before him; and Telesinus and others continued to study philosophy in his company, for although philosophy was just then in a perilous condition, they did not dream that they would imperil themselves with his studies. Yet he was suspected as I have said, and the suspicion was intensified by words he uttered in connection to a prodigy. For presently when there was an eclipse of the sun and a clap of thunder was heard, a thing that very rarely occurs at the moment of an eclipse, he glanced up to heaven and said: “There shall be some great event and there shall not be.” Now at the time those who heard these words were unable to comprehend their meaning; but on the third day after the eclipse, everyone understood what was meant: for while Nero sat at meat a thunderbolt fell on the table, and clove asunder the cup that was in his hand and was close to his lips. And the fact that he so narrowly escaped being struck was intended by the words that a great event would happen and yet should not happen. Tigellinus when he heard this story began to dread Apollonius as one who was wise in supernatural matters; and though he felt that he had better not prefer any open charges against him, lest he should incur at his hands some mysterious disaster, nevertheless he used all the eyes with which the government sees, to watch Apollonius, whether he was talking or holding his tongue, or sitting down or walking about, and to mark what he ate, and in whose houses, and whether he offered sacrifice or not.

Just then a distemper broke out in Rome, called by the physicians influenza; and it was attended, it seems, by coughings, and the voice of speakers was affected by it. Now the temples were full of people supplicating the gods, because Nero had a swollen throat, and his voice was hoarse. But Apollonius vehemently denounced the folly of the crowd, though without rebuking anyone in particular; nay, he even restrained Menippus, who was irritated by such goings on, and persuaded him to moderate his indignation, urging him to pardon the gods if they did show pleasure in the mimes of buffoons. This utterance was reported to Tigellinus, who immediately sent police to take him to prison, and summoned him to defend himself from the charge of impiety against Nero. And an accuser was retained against him who had already undone a great many people, and won a number of such Olympic victories. This accuser too held in his hands a scroll of paper on which the charge was written out, and he brandished it like a sword against the sage, and declared that it was so sharp that it would slay and ruin him. But when Tigellinus unrolled the scroll, and did not find upon it the trace of a single word or letter, and his eyes fell on a perfectly blank book, he came to the conclusion that he had to do with a demon; and this is said also subsequently to have been the feeling which Domitian afterwards entertained towards Apollonius. Tigellinus then took his victim apart into a secret tribunal, in which this class of magistrate tries in private the most important charges; and having ordered all to leave the court he plied him with questions, asking who he was. Apollonius gave his father's name and that of his country, and explained his motive in practicing wisdom, declaring that the sole use he had made of it was to gain knowledge of the gods and an understanding of human affairs, for that the difficulty of knowing another man exceeded that of knowing oneself. “And about the demons,” said Tigellinus, “and the apparitions of specters, how, O Apollonius, do you exorcise them?” “In the same way,” he answered, “as I should murderers and impious men.” This was a sarcastic allusion to Tigellinus himself, for he taught and encouraged in Nero every excess of cruelty and wanton violence. “And,” said the other, “could you prophesy, if I asked you to?” “How,” said Apollonius, “can I, being no prophet?” “And yet,” replied the other, “they say that it is you who predicted that some great event would come to pass and yet not come to pass.” “Quite true,” said Apollonius, “is what you heard; but you must not put this down to any prophetic gift, but rather to the wisdom which God reveals to wise men.” “And,” said the other, “why are you not afraid of Nero?” “Because,” said Apollonius, “the same God who allows him to seem formidable, has also granted to me to feel no fear.” “And what do you think,” said the other, “about Nero?” And Apollonius answered: “Much better than you do; for you think it dignified for him to sing, but I think it dignified for him to keep silent.” Tigellinus was astonished and said: “You may go, but you must give sureties for your person.” And Apollonius answered: “And who can go surety for a body that no one can bind?” This answer struck Tigellinus as inspired and above the wit of man; and as he was careful not to fight with a god, he said: “You may go wherever you choose, for you are too powerful to be controlled by me.”

Here too is a miracle which Apollonius worked: A girl had died just in the hour of her marriage, and the bridegroom was following her bier lamenting as was natural his marriage left unfulfilled, and the whole of Rome was mourning with him, for the maiden belonged to a consular family. Apollonius then witnessing their grief, said: “Put down the bier, for I will stay the tears that you are shedding for this maiden.” And withal he asked what was her name. The crowd accordingly thought that he was about to deliver such an oration as is commonly delivered to grace the funeral as to stir up lamentation; but he did nothing of the kind, but merely touching her and whispering in secret some spell over her, at once woke up the maiden from her seeming death; and the girl spoke out loud, and returned to her father's house, just as Alcestis did when she was brought back to life by Heracles. And the relations of the maiden wanted to present him with the sum of 150,000 sesterces, but he said that he would freely present the money to the young lady by way of dowry. Now whether he detected some spark of life in her, which those who were nursing her had not noticed—for it is said that although it was raining at the time, a vapor went up from her face—or whether her life was really extinct, and he restored it by the warmth of his touch, is a mysterious problem which neither I myself nor those who were present could decide.

About this time Musonius lay confined in the dungeons of Nero, a man who they say was unsurpassed in philosophic ability by anyone. Now they did not openly converse with one another, because Musonius declined to do so, in order that both their lives might not be endangered; but they carried on a correspondence through Menippus and Damis, who went to and fro the prison. Such of their letters as did not handle greater themes I will take no notice of, and only set before my reader the indispensable ones in which we get glimpses of lofty topics:

“Apollonius to Musonius the philosopher, greeting.

”I would fain came unto you, to share your conversation and lodgings, in the hope of being some use to you; unless indeed you are disinclined to believe that Heracles once released Theseus from hell; write what you would like me to do. Farewell.”

”Musonius to Apollonius the philosopher, greeting.

”For your solicitude on my behalf, I shall never do anything but commend you: but he who has strength of mind to defend himself, and has proved that he has done no wrong, is a true man. Farewell.”

”Apollonius to Musonius the philosopher sends greeting.

”Socrates of Athens, because he refused to be released by his own friends, went before the tribunal and was put to death. Farewell.”

”Musonius to Apollonius the philosopher sends greeting.

”Socrates was put to death, because he would not take the trouble to defend himself; but I shall defend myself. Farewell.”

When Nero took his departure for Greece, after issuing a proclamation that no one should teach philosophy in public at Rome, Apollonius turned his steps to the Western regions of the earth, which they say are bounded by the Pillars, because he wished to visit and behold the ebb and flow of the ocean, and the city of Gadeira. For he had heard something of the love of wisdom entertained by the inhabitants of that country, and of how great an advance they had made in religion; and he was accompanied by all his pupils, who approved no less of the expedition than they did of the sage.