A few more letters of the early 6th century sophist, Aeneas of Gaza.<\/p>\n
12. To the Sophist Epiphanius.<\/strong><\/p>\n For other lovers, the mere sight of the beloved\u2019s sandal suffices to relieve the pangs of love.\u00a0 But you ask for portraits of both soul and body. \u00a0Words, which clearly interpret thought, truly delineate the soul itself, and that is precisely why they are given you. \u00a0For my part I had resolved never again to have an image of an image reproduced. Yet, out of regard for your affection, I summoned the portraitist who resides here, and I sat before him, motionless of face, maintaining a solemn silence, and holding my pose, and allowed art to mirror nature. \u00a0Having captured my likeness, the painter\u2019s hand fixed it and rendered it in colour.\u00a0 The portrait is now with you, so that you may converse with it and gaze upon it, and have nothing less than those who stand beside me. The excellent Euthymius performs this service for us, willingly braving the sea to do so; which seems to be a hard thing for rivals in love. Come then, let us make him forget his hardships through our affectionate solicitude.<\/p>\n [Aeneas addresses letters 12 and 23 to Epiphanius, and he is also the subject of letter 4.\u00a0 He was part of the circle of Gazan sophists, and was also known to Procopius, who came to know him on the recommendation of Peter (ep. 142). Procopius tells us that Epiphanius became a jurist (ep. 70), and settled in Alexandria (ep. 122). So it is likely that Aeneas is writing to him in Alexandria, enclosing a portrait.\u00a0 The relationships of the three men are revealed here: Epiphanius is the one asking Aeneas for letters and a portrait; while Procopius is the one addressing Epiphanius and asking for letters and a portrait (ep. 53, 61, 94). The letter also explains the relation of Epiphanius and Euthymius to Aeneas: Euthymius is Epiphanius’ rival in affection for Aeneas, and the more painful his service, the more meritorious his journey precisely because he is bringing Aeneas’ portrait to his rival.]<\/p>\n 13. To Encratius.<\/strong><\/p>\n Yesterday he was a teacher and guide to youths.\u00a0 Today he is led by a boy.\u00a0 Once he seemed venerable to the young.\u00a0 Now he appears so worthy of compassion. \u00a0Such is fate. What then? Shall we merely commiserate without coming to his aid? You certainly would not. If a soldier were suddenly deprived by fortune of the very hand with which he had distinguished himself in valour, do you think his fellow soldiers would not pool a share of the spoils for his sake? We draw our livelihood from letters; let us not be considered inferior in loving our neighbour to those who live by the sword.<\/p>\n [Another letter, like letter 10, in which Aeneas acts to help an old man of letters, a teacher.]<\/p>\n 14. To the Priest John.<\/strong><\/p>\n I have just seen the [present of] vegetables with more pleasure than I once felt for the honey-and-almond cake. Back then, indeed, the unjust accusation leveled against the boy robbed the honey of its taste and pleasure.\u00a0 Now, however, the gentleness of his disposition makes the vegetables seem like gold to me. Truly sweet is the father who does not get angry because of an unjust accusation, but instead urges his son to turn away from thoughtlessness and to pursue virtue, and encourages the teacher to be solicitous towards him.<\/p>\n [Possibly Aeneas is the boy\u2019s teacher, and the priest John is responsible to the parents for the boy.\u00a0 Perhaps John had sent Aeneas a letter asking about the boy\u2019s conduct, and accompanied by the cake.\u00a0 Aeneas replied; and now a further letter has arrived, accompanied by vegetables, but accepting that the accusation was false.]<\/p>\n 15. To the Priest Stephen.<\/strong><\/p>\n This is not the first time that I have conversed with you. I did so once before. We used to talk by the Nile, back when I played with the Muses upon its banks. Our conversation would fashion elegant conceits, and while being serious, seemed to laugh. There was a contest of beauty: the Greeks were the judges.\u00a0 The contenders were Nireus, who ws “the handsomest of men on earth,” and Thersites, “the ugliest of men who came to Ilium.” \u00a0And the most amusing part was that Thersites thought it right to win; indeed, the discourse awarded him the prize, undeterred by Homer\u2019s mockery, who named every part of his body after its deformity and ridiculed the man from head to toe.<\/p>\n In truth, that is how you used to jest with your listeners back then.\u00a0 Now, however, I hear that you devote yourself to serious subjects, and in the temples you act as the herald of noble doctrine, and with your words you reform the morals of the citizens. Thus, today, the mason and the carpenter have something to say about divine things, and during their work\u2014men who, before hearing your words, chattered only of stones and wood\u2014they now discourse about virtue.<\/p>\n Great happiness, then, to the excellent Eustratius, who traveled to many cities and filled them all with your name.\u00a0 May that no good man go unnoticed! It was he who prompted me to send this letter, lifting my hopes to the skies with the promise of even greater things: “gold in exchange for bronze,” your letter in exchange for mine. Come then, let us not be disappointed in this fair hope.<\/p>\n [Stephen is called \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03b2\u03bb\u03ad\u03c0\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, \u201cillustrious\u201d in letter 11, so must have been a man of consequence.\u00a0 Some letters of Procopius are also addressed to a Stephen, who must be identified with ours, notably letter 18 which also mentions the Nile with reference to his stay and studies in Alexandria.\u00a0 In this letter Aeneas recalls his youthful years, when he was in Alexandria at the school of Hierocles. It is likely that in this letter Aeneas is alluding to Lucian,\u00a0Infer. Dial.<\/em>\u00a025, where there is also a contest of beauty between Nireus and Thersites and the Homeric verse B 673 is also cited.]<\/p>\n 16. To Sarapion.<\/strong><\/p>\n I have learned of your ordeal and watered the very earth with my tears, because this war originates with the very priests who profess to be heralds of peace. And if our ruin comes from the very source from which salvation should come, what way of escape remains for us? In my opinion these things call for loud lamentation.\u00a0 Yet I feel both sorrow and satisfaction.\u00a0 For while it is painful to have endured such perils, on the other hand steadfastness in the face of danger is the ultimate test of greatness of soul. What virtue can ever be called acquired, if no trial preceded it? Unless, of course, you would call a man an excellent general who has never once faced the enemy! But it is right for us to endure and not lose heart, for it is through war that peace is secured for us; and if this is so, let us face the war with courage rather than cowardice. But what a fine service you have rendered to your friends! \u00a0In your presence, I used to profess my love for rhetoric, trusting that I would find a cure for it in you.\u00a0 But the opposite has happened: you have intensified that love rather than extinguishing it, by stirring up the applause of the spectators whom your letter summoned together. How then can one despise what you extol?<\/p>\n [It seems that Sarapion has got into trouble with the church.\u00a0 Practicing rhetoric could be dangerous, and Aeneas has himself been trying not to do so.]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" A few more letters of the early 6th century sophist, Aeneas of Gaza. 12. To the Sophist Epiphanius. For other lovers, the mere sight of the beloved\u2019s sandal<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"advanced_seo_description":"","jetpack_seo_html_title":"","jetpack_seo_noindex":false,"jetpack_seo_schema_type":"","_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_awef_post_faq_schema":[],"_jetpack_hide_featured_image":false,"_jetpack_featured_image_duplicate_dismissed":0,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[1],"tags":[115,1782],"class_list":["post-58199","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-aeneas-of-gaza","tag-letters-of-aeneas-of-gaza"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/roger-pearse.com\/weblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/58199","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/roger-pearse.com\/weblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/roger-pearse.com\/weblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/roger-pearse.com\/weblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/roger-pearse.com\/weblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=58199"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/roger-pearse.com\/weblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/58199\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":58200,"href":"https:\/\/roger-pearse.com\/weblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/58199\/revisions\/58200"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/roger-pearse.com\/weblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=58199"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/roger-pearse.com\/weblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=58199"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/roger-pearse.com\/weblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=58199"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}