New Entrants: 388-395

Orosius biased me toward reading through to the death of Theodosius in early 395, because he moved quickly from the restoration of Valentinian II to that monarch's death in 392. In the interim was the usurpation of Eugenius, who ruled in the West from 392 to 394. This is what I read to learn about this period of history:

• Primary narrative histories: Orosius (Book 7, Chapter 35), C. D. Gordon's Age of Attila (to page 8, p. 16-18), and Zosimus (Book 4, p. 88-94)
  
• Chronicles and foreign histories: Chronicon Paschale (years 390-394), John of Nikiu (Chapter 83, Section 37-65), al-Tabari (p. 69-70), Jordanes (Chapter 28, Section 145), and Gregory of Tours (Book 1, Chapter 44-47) [Bede and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle have nothing to report]
  
• Ecclesiastical histories: Socrates (Book 5, Chapter 15-26), Sozomen (Book 7, Chapter 15-29), Theodoret (Book 5, Chapter 16-25), and Philostorgius (Book 10, Chapter 9-Book 11, Chapter 2)
  
• Private views: Libanius' Autobiography (Section 275-285), Letters (154-193), and Orations (47-49); Jerome (Letters 52 & 54); Augustine (Book 10-11); and Claudian's Panegyric on the Consuls Probinus and Olybrius
  
• Modern histories: Montesquieu (Chapter 19) and Gibbon (Chapter 26-28)
  

I have added two new works for this segment. C. D. Gordon is a twentieth-century history. His book is of value, however, because he translates verbatim the literary fragments of the major historians of the fifth century: Olympiodorus, Candidus, Priscus, and Malchus. He also makes use of the later Byzantine historian Joannes Antiochenus. Like Philostorgius, these excerpts are preserved by Photius, in large part, and other compilers of medieval Constantinople. Because these works are not fully extent, Gordon provides his own narrative to connect the fragments. The book was originally published by University of Michigan Press, republished by Barnes & Noble.

The other new work is of a much different flavor. Claudius Claudianus was an Egyptian-born Latin poet. Much of his work is political, with subject matter not all that different from Libanius'. Similarly, he was a pagan, although he did more to try to blend in with Christians than Libanius did. His first long poem is very flowery and of little substance as the brothers Probinus and Olybrius became the consuls for whom the year would be named at the beginning of 395. Theodosius died only a couple weeks later, but I assume that the poem was written while he was still alive; line 113 in the translation names Theodosius, but he is absent from the Latin. Since Claudian's career only lasted about a decade, I don't think this will be much of an issue going forward, but because the poems are backward looking, I may have missed out on some other pieces of useful information from the poetry he wrote after Theodosius' death—Gibbon references two such later poems in Chapter 27. In the introduction, his quality of language is compared with Silver Age (late first century CE) poets like Statius, even as his content is criticized. The introduction begins by saying he "may be called the last poet of classical Rome" (vii); there are a lot of lasts in this time period (although I remember Tacitus was considered a "last" almost 300 years earlier), and it is kind of sad—it may be easier to relate to the end of a literary period, whose work still exists, than a civilization, which does not. I am reading Maurice Platnauer's translation for the Loeb Classical Library.

Platnauer's translation is available online at LacusCurtius.

Baptized into the Episcopacy: Ambrose and Nectarius

I have already written something about Ambrose's relationship with Augustine, Gratian, Valentinian II, and Justina, and I plan to write soon about his dealings with Theodosius. In this post, I would like to take a step back to show the striking parallel between Ambrose's rise to becoming bishop of Milan to that of Nectarius becoming bishop of Constantinople. I also have a few reflection on the rise of Christianity/decline of Rome idea.

The history is based on the three orthodox ecclesiastical historians of the mid-5^th century: Socrates, Sozomen, and Theodoret, all of whom wrote in Greek. Socrates, sometimes surnamed Scholasticus, is republished by NuVision (translator unknown). Sozomen is republished by Kessinger Publishing (translator unknown). These two books are digital reprints of out of copyright translations, with the consequence that sometimes the readability is quite poor. Theodoret was published for Bohn's Ecclesiastical Library (translator unknown).

A little before the emperor Valentinian I died in 375, the church in Milan had an opening in its leadership because the previous bishop, Auxentius, died. According to Sozomen (VI.23), Auxentius was unique as an Arian bishop in the West, for which reason the bishop of Rome (pope) and others excommunicated him; his death appears to be from natural causes. Theodoret (IV.6) says that Valentinian spoke to the bishops who were meeting to choose a successor; the emperor's concern seems to be more about the choice be a sterling example of personal ethics as having the right theology. The bishops were willing let Valentinian himself make the choice, but he declined (IV.7).

All three historians agree that the issue was causing great controversy in the city, as Christians had different favorites to be their new bishop. Socrates (IV.30) wrote, "the people…were disturbed…as some proposed one person, and others favored another, the city was full of contention and uproar." Sozomen (VI.24) expands, "a sedition arose among the people…and the city was in danger. Those who had aspired to the bishopric, and been defeated in their expectations, were loud in their menaces, as is usual in such commotions." This suggests that the "uproar" was not merely a popular phenomenon. Theodoret (IV.7) adds more context: "The citizens…assembled tumultuously, and contended about the election. Those who had received the…opinion of Auxentius demanded to have a bishop of the same sentiments. While those who had adhered to sound doctrines desired a pastor of the same faith as themselves."

The prospect of violence greatly concerned the governor of the province, Ambrose; Socrates adds that he had also previously held the title of consul. He went to the church, the source of the problem. Socrates and Sozoment say that he made a speech to all the parties to remain at peace, while Theodoret claims that his mere presence quieted everyone. In any event, the people spontaneously and unanimously declared that Ambrose should become the new bishop. Ambrose was reluctant, and had not yet been baptized—this does not necessarily mean he didn't believe in Christianity considering, for example, that Theodosius had been treated with disfavor as a soldier by Julian for his Christian beliefs, but did not become baptized until after he became emperor almost two decades later. Valentinian saw Providence behind the people's choice, and with his blessing (if not urging), Ambrose was baptized and ordained bishop. Thus, he turned from secular to spiritual office.

About five years later, when Theodosius became Emperor of the East, his first priority in religious affairs was to remove the Arians from power. For this purpose, he called a synod to meet, known as the First Council of Constantinople or Second Ecumenical Council, in 381. There were about 150 bishops present (Sozomen VII.7, Socrates V.8), maybe more after including the followers of the Macedonian heresy. All three list prominent attendees (Theodoret at V.8); none seem to be from as far west as Italy, though there are some ambiguous words in Socrates and Sozomen about correspondence with Rome. For a time, Gregory Nazianzus, a leading orthodox theologian, was made bishop of Constantinople with the support of Theodosius. However, some Egyptian bishops objected that he had already been ordained bishop in his hometown, thus violating a previously agreed to (though not one that seems to have been always scrupulously adhered to) rule; Gregory agreed to withdraw rather than cause trouble: "For it would be most absurd if, now that we have just escaped from the weapons of our enemies, we were to fall upon each other, and destroy our own strength, thus causing those who hate us to rejoice," he said according to Theodoret's report.

At this point, Sozomen has the fullest account. The bishops were divided over the new choice (VII.7). One of the bishops, Diodorus of Tarsus, was visited by a compatriot named Nectarius. Nectarius was a "senator…at this period residing at Constantinople" (VII.8); Socrates has him in "the office of proctor [sic, I assume this is praetor]" there (V.8). Now, Nectarius was about to go home, and inquired from Diodorus whether there were any letters he could bring back for him. Diodorus, however, decided that Nectarius would make a good bishop, and tried to get help from Melitius of Antioch. Melitius had other favorites, but when the emperor asked everyone to list their choices for him, Melitius did acquiesce and include Nectarius at the end of his list. Theodosius chose Nectarius, who was a relative unknown; by contrast Socrates emphasizes Nectarius as the choice of "the people," and Theodoret makes him the choice of the bishops. On his election, it came out that Nectarius was not baptized; Sozomen states that even Diodorus had assumed he was. This created some new controversy, but Theodosius maintained his support. Nectarius was baptized and ordained bishop of Constantinople at the same time. Later on during the Council, the bishops agreed that the bishop of Constantinople should be of the second rank in the Church, only below the bishop of Rome (Sozomen VII.9, Socrates V.8). Thus, Nectarius, too, moved from temporal to ecclesiastical leadership.

Let me now turn briefly to the issue of whether Christianity caused the downfall of the Roman Empire. I have already discussed this a bit from the Providential standpoint. From a cultural standpoint, the asceticism advocated by Jerome, Augustine, Gregory of Tours, and others may have caused a demographic downturn, at least on the margins. However, by the end of the fourth century, many of the Goths had converted to Christianity, too. Another problem with this is that economic factors may have led to asceticism, making a virtue of necessity, rather than the reverse; "if I didn't fast so much, I'd go hungry" as the joke goes. Lastly, Augustine may have been a more representative celibate than Jerome or Injuriosus, waiting until after he'd already had a child until turning over to chastity.

A more interesting case for Christianity helping to cause Rome's collapse can be found with Ambrose and Nectarius. They are evidence that the church was competing with the government for the services of effective leaders. Christian emperors, for whom the propagation of their beliefs was a significant concern, appear often to have encouraged the church to win that competition, to the detriment of their own political success. Valentinian's sons may have lived and led longer if Ambrose had been serving them in secular office, for example. Bishops were also paid better in glory than provincial governors: they are more important figures in ecclesiastical histories than governors are in secular histories, and many continue to be venerated as saints. This is a factor that is not immediately obvious, but the church depleting the ranks of good political and military leadership at the provincial level accounts well for timing, and why the church could gain strength as the empire lost it—even as Orosius equates the two.

Socrates Scholasticus is available online—I think in the same translation—at the Christian Classics Ethereal Library. Sozomen is available online—also appearing to be the same translation—at Freewebs. Theodoret is available online—in a different translation—also at the Christian Classics Ethereal Library.

Saints and Sophists: 383-388

Having written about the high politics during the period between the deaths of Gratian and Maximus, I would like to focus a little more on the three personalities I called "private views" in that post. Except I suppose for the "modern histories" area, my choice here involves more discretion than those areas that are consciously written as histories. In the notes to some of the better annotated books, or in Gibbon, I often see references to other writers of the era, who might just as well have been a part of my reading. By this point in time, many letters and sermons by churchmen are still extent, including Ambrose. For the time being at least, the two Christian leaders I am reading are Jerome and Augustine; again they too have numerous writings, and I would have liked to read Jerome's historical writings if they were more easily available, but I am focusing on the two works I have already mentioned. The other writer I am reading is Libanius, who was a pagan teacher in Antioch, Syria. A. F. Norman translated the Autobiography and Selected Letters in two volumes and Selected Orations in another two volumes for the Loeb Classical Library. The legal code of Theodosius (which seems to have begun before his reign) is heavily referenced in the notes to Libanius, and in Gibbon, because it provides dates for a lot of events.

The years specifically under discussion here are the ones when Augustine converted from the profession of sophist, like Libanius, to a Christian thinker (and future saint of the church), like Jerome. While Augustine later had correspondence with Jerome—including through Orosius—I don't think he ever communicated with Libanius. Despite my criticism of Jerome's words on Syriac, he clearly had facility with several languages, while Augustine and Libanius were not very comfortable with the other's tongue (Latin for Augustine and Greek for Libanius).

Antioch had been the capital of the Hellenistic-Seleucid Kingdom of Syria, and once fully absorbed into the Roman Empire in the 60s BCE, was a leading city of the eastern half of the empire. From the 50s BCE, under Crassus, and on through Julian more than 400 years later, the city maintained its importance as a kind of staging ground for the army before campaigning against Parthia or Persia, although its power was eclipsed once Constantinople become the second capital. Libanius came from an established family of the city, and after some experience teaching in some other Greek cities, had become the official sophist of Antioch by this time. Like the sophists Plato had Socrates rail against some seven or eight centuries earlier, sophists taught rhetoric, and were more concerned with persuasion—or manipulation—than truth. The position doesn't have an exact modern equivalent, but the closest analogy would be a superstar law professor, who also regularly had monologues on radio or television. In addition, he was something of an official spokesman for the city. Emperors from Constantius II to Theodosius paid attention to him; unsurprisingly, his best relationship was with Julian. By the 380s, he was an old man weighed down with migraines and gout, and his main concerns were the security of his illegitimate son, the welfare of the people and city of Antioch, and the protection of the rites of traditional (pagan) religion. His writing gives an interesting perspective of what life was like outside the imperial presence; as a judge of the major figures of his time, though, he consistently shows himself obsequious when they're in power, but much more critical when they're time has passed.

I should note that Antioch had been suffering from drought conditions—near famine if they had been isolated—since the summer of 381 or 382, and continued throughout the years under consideration here. Libanius' 50^th oration was written about 384, and is entitled "For the Peasantry, About Forced Labor." I quite enjoyed this oration's message, in which Libanius complained that magistrates were impressing privately owned animals into carrying material without compensation. He is quite passionate about the importance of rule of law and private property—that if officials were allowed to do this for the government's service, nothing is stopping them from imposing even more onerous burdens—as well as a rather sophisticated idea of economic costs: even if these animals weren't carrying anything for their owners at the time, the animals are still weakened for future use. Like many of his speeches, it is written as an appeal to the emperor, though he almost certainly hoped that by using his name the closer officials would listen and make things right themselves. Oration 30, written about 386, is entitled "Pro Templis" and is a request that the emperor protect the ancient pagan temples. He holds a traditional view that worship of the g-ds had led to the greatness of the Roman Empire, the view against which Orosius argued. Thus, allowing harm to come to the temples would go against the emperor's political interests—even though Theodosius was a Christian and thus didn't believe in those g-ds—and, in addition, the temples were imperial property and should be preserved as art even if not for religion's sake. The threat was coming not so much from legal means—although the law was ever more constricting the scope of pagan religious freedom—but from the enthusiastic violence of monks.

Orations 19 to 23 (the 23^rd is actually the earliest) describe an event in Antiochene history important enough that Zosimus was confused by it, and Gibbon synthesizes a portrait meant to characterize the clemency (at least in this case) of Theodosius. In 387, Antioch was still suffering from the near famine conditions, but the imperial taxes were increasing due in part to the coming 10^th anniversary of Theodosius becoming emperor (when he would be expected to give liberally to his soldiers), and also likely the preparations for the war against Maximus. Some men of Antioch, in frustration, had defaced statues in the city of the imperial family, an act akin to treason. As punishment, the emperor stripped Antioch of many of its privileges; fearing worse, many of the men and women of the city fled. Libanius chided the exiles for their pessimism, while appealing to Theodosius for rescinding the punishment. Along with John Chrysostom—at this time a Christian priest in the city whose sermons from the time survive, and later archbishop of Constantinople—his pleas were successful.

A very limited selection from Libanius' works are linked to at Wikipedia.

Jerome paints a far different picture of Christian zeal. The main idea he writes about in the letters I read from the mid-380s, especially in the very long Letter 22 to Eustochium, is asceticism, primarily through celibacy. Indeed, all the letters of the period in this Loeb collection are to women: he believes virginity superior to marriage, and widowhood superior to remarriage. In Letter 38 to Marcella, he commends reading constantly as a way to drive out sensual desires. In Letter 22, Jerome describes the rules that then existed for (male) monks, either as hermits or in groups, but the development of cloisters or convents for women happened later.

Augustine was, along with Paul and Constantine, the most significant of converts to Christianity. Like Paul, he furthered the development of Christian theology for future generations. Like Constantine, he had a Christian mother, Monica. However, unlike the other two, he did not claim a miraculous moment of epiphany that inspired his conversion. Instead, he describes his mental process over many years from Manichaeism to Neo-Platonism to Christianity. In addition, Augustine had been educated for and was now practicing as a teacher of rhetoric; also like Libanius, he had an illegitimate son—unlike Libanius, he believes this holds him back from his great temporal ambitions. In 384, he moved from Rome to Milan, which was arguably a step up because, as we saw in the post below, Emperor Valentinian II was staying at Milan. Soon, Monica arrived there from her home in North Africa, as well. It is she who emerges as the real hero of this portion of the Confessions, constantly praying for her son. Yet, even as Augustine admits to a changing understanding of Christian ideas, as he moved from being a Manichee "hearer" to a Neo-Platonist around the time he moved to Milan, he maintains an idea that to be Christian he must be an ascetic, like Jerome prescribes, and because of his lusts he cannot do that. It is hard to reconcile that need, however, because of the great importance of his mother, whose influence was through fertility not chastity. I cannot help thinking that rather than his eventual conversion suppressing his ambitions, as he wants us to think, they merely transferred them to a spiritual nature; Jerome, following Paul, had allowed that one needn't be celibate to be Christian, but Augustine knew that celibacy did make it a lot easier to be a saint. Eventually, he came to a state of mind that he no longer had the same sexual needs and had intellectual approval of Christianity—though still through a very Neo-Platonic lens—and Ambrose baptized him on Easter Day, 387. He resigned from his teaching post, where he had to tell lies, and soon after his mother passed away.

Chronicon Paschale

The next book that I am bringing "into the mix" is the anonymous Chronicon Paschale as translated by Michael and Mary Whitby for the Liverpool University Press and its Translated Texts for Historians series. This work, of the same genre as the John of Nikiu's, was written about half a century earlier, around 630 CE in the city of Constantinople by an anonymous priest. The book is so called because of its emphasis on calculations for the Easter festival. The Whitbys decided to only translate the portion of the chronicle that begins with Diocletian's reign in 284 CE, until it ends in 628. Given the lack of credibility in John's Chronicle for nearly everything up to this point, I can certainly understand why they would think that the earlier portions are of little historical value; in their introduction they certainly suggest that this is the case. On the other hand, it would be interesting to compare John's fantastic tales with what this Byzantine author wrote on antiquity as they both emerged out of a similar chronicling tradition.

This history has a great deal of structure that John's lacks. In addition to the chronicle tradition, it is annalistic in that the author gives a mention to every year. Years are identified by consuls, imperial years (how many years since the beginning of an emperor's reign), and indiction years (a 15-year tax cycle somewhat akin to the American 10-year census cycle). Beyond these, years are grouped by Olympiad and emperor. Specific dates within a year are given based on the Roman (Julian), Greek, Syrian, or Egyptian calendar, depending upon the source of the material. Very helpfully, the translators have added the year of the common era and Roman month if necessary. Thus, anything specific I write will be based on the year (and date, if applicable) that we would use, with no other citation. With each emperor, the author also keeps track of the years since creation. In year 325, after telling of the celebration for Constantine's twentieth year in power, he gives his calculation for what the translators say is the second time – the first was for Jesus' baptismal year and beginning of his ministry. The note suggests that because the vicennalia was the end of Eusebius' Ecclesiastical History, he is importing it from that source. The important people or events by which he calculates are:

• Adam
  
• The Flood
  
• Abraham
  
• Moses and the Exodus from Egypt
  
• The End of the Trojan War
  
• Solomon and the Construction of the Temple
  
• The First Olympics/First Olympiad
  
• Darius Allows the Completion of the Second Temple
  
• The Baptism of Jesus
  
• Constantine's vicennalia
  

Altogether, this means that, in the author's view, the world was created 5,833 years earlier; put into our terms, he thinks the world was created in the year 5509 before the common era. The Chronicon also occasionally dates an event in Christian years, but from Jesus' death (placed in 29 CE) than his birth as our system was designed to do.

I would also note that the identification of the year is sometimes all he has to say about it. While he is certainly more detailed than John, it is with Diocletian that the latter at least starts to include every emperor. The renewed interest in the empire and the relative modernity of history starting with Diocletian for both writers has some sense to it for two reasons: 1) Diocletian divided the Roman Empire between East and West in a way that was not yet quite permanent, but close enough from the perspective of the 7^th century, and 2) the persecutions under Diocletian in 303-305 (important also for Optatus) seemed to lead directly to Constantine's accession to become Augustus in 306, following which the empire slowly began to develop an officially Christian character that was probably more resonant to the Byzantines than the old Roman institutions.

Diocletian and his colleague Maximianus voluntarily (or at least Diocletian volunteered) abdicated their power in 305, leaving their Caesars to become Augusti and nominating new Caesars. Thus Constantius I gained full power in the West and remained where he had held subordinate power in Britain and Gaul. When he died a year later, his armies declared in favor of his (illegitimate) son Constantine to succeed him (at what is now York, England), despite the existence of Severus as Caesar and legal heir. This led to a series of civil wars for power against various Caesars, Augusti, and usurpers that lasted until 323, and for Constantine to find the Christian faith of his mother Helena. Not surprisingly, the Byzantine author pays a lot of attention to the (re-)foundation of Constantinople, while John hardly pays any.

Constantine left the Empire to his three sons Constantius II, Constantine II, and Constans when he died in 337. Following the behavior of their father, they eliminated threats methodically, in their case at first from cousins; then Constatine II and Constans fought each other, as John relates in Chapter 78, while the Chronicon Paschale omits such fratricide, only alluding to Constantine's death. After that, from 340-350, the rough East-West split returned with Constantius II in the East and Constans in the West. While they were able to maintain a rough peace, religion divided them as much as power politics. After Constans was killed in rebellion, Constantius II ruled the entire Roman Empire; however, with internal rebellions challenging his power and war with Persia in the east – though the Chronicon Paschale believes that the city of Nisibis was miraculously protected in 350 in the emperor's merit (despite his Arianism) – Constantius named his cousin Gallus as Caesar to hold power in the West. However, he never really trusted Gallus, who was put to death after a few years.

Soon, Constantius chose Gallus' brother Julian to take over as Caesar, as he still needed help. He trusted Julian even less, but Julian was smarter. Neither chronicler discusses Julian's military successes in northwestern Europe, thus giving rise to an implication that he rebelled due to his apostasy, for he had been raised a Christian but turned pagan. Anyhow, Constantius II died in 361 before the rift had turned to battle, and Julian became the legitimate Augustus of the entire Empire. While the two orthodox (or nearly so from the perspective of the 4^th century) writers condemn Julian's persecution of Christians, they cannot but admit that he actually reversed some of the anti-orthodox decrees of Constantius because that allowed Athanasius to return from exile. Julian did give in to some pagan excesses (which the Christians historians make much of), but he was probably more tolerant than the Christian emperors of his era; at Chapter 80, John tells the story of how Julian allowed the Jews to try to rebuild the Temple in Jerusalem. Julian made war on Persia, but died in battle in 363 – both authors see this as divine punishment.

Jovian was emperor for less than a year. In praising him for his orthodoxy, the chroniclers try to cover up the surrender he agreed to the Persians on very unfavorable terms. Next was Valentinian, who chose his brother Valens as a colleague; the former took the West and the latter got the east. Again, there was a sectarian disagreement between the brothers, with Valentinian holding the orthodox position. Thus, whatever Valentinian did was good, and whatever Valens did was bad. Valentinian died in 375 and was succeed by his sons Gratian and Valentinian II, who had different mothers. Both writers completely omit the first great loss by the Romans to the Goths (or any other barbarian) inside the empire's borders at Adrianople in 378, where Valens died. They elide straight to the elevation of (the orthodox) Theodosius (chosen by Gratian). The Chronicon Paschale mentions intrigues attempted by Valentinian II's mother Justina, an Arian, against her step-son Gratian in 380, supposedly leading to his death. John, however, has it correct that it was an assassin acting for the British usurper Maximus who killed Gratian in 383. And that, as I have mentioned elsewhere, has caught me up to my reading in other histories.

I do not believe that there is a freely available translation of this portion of the Chronicon Paschale on the internet.

John of Nikiu: Rome and Macedonia

This is the final post on John of Nikiu. After the round-up of the final Persian emperors, John moves backward in time the better part of a millennium to introduce Aeneas as the beginning of Roman history. In between three chapters (52-54) on The activities of Aeneas and what would appear to be his son – though without anything close to associating the son as the ancestor of Julius Caesar – and the foundation of Rome itself, he takes Chapter 55 to relate the foundation of Carthage by Dido, mixing as best I can tell the mythology of her as a contemporary of Aeneas and the history that placed the city's foundation less than a century before Rome's.

Romulus and Remus are placed contemporary to the Judean king Hezekiah, continuing John's method of Biblical dating for events outside the scope of Jewish history. While skipping the fabulous elements of their birth and infancy, their adult career is more or less traditional. Just as Chapter 56 shows how Romulus instituted Rome's institutions for war, Chapter 57 shows how his successor Numa Pompilius instituted Rome's institutions for peace.

John then skips back ahead about three centuries to King Philip of Macedonia; because his reign was either after or just at the cusp of the end of the Jewish Bible's time period, he can only date it by explaining, "in the days of the high priest of Jerusalem," to begin Chapter 58, which isn't very specific as whenever the Temple stood, there was a high priest. His main point for Philip was the foundation of Thessalonica after defeating the people of Thessaly. His son, Alexander, arrives in the next chapter, with his first act recorded being the foundation of Alexandria after conquering Egypt. Early attention is also paid to events near Byzantium. He calls Roxana a daughter of Darius that he married after he defeated him, when Roxana was actually a Bactrian. He also spends time on an adventure wherein a Candace, queen of Ethiopia – like Philostorgius, it seems likely Ethiopia and India are being confused because he went to India but not Ethiopia, although a Wikipedia search suggests otherwise – who was able to capture Alexander. He considers a relatively clean division on Alexander's death of his empire, quite a historically, with the single exception of warring between Antigonus and Seleucus over Syria (Chapter 61). In Chapter 62, he tells us that the Chronicle genre was invented by "Seleucus, that is Pausanias"; because this is in the midst of Syrian history, which contained many kings named Seleucus, it is unclear whether this was one of those kings, or even a Syrian. Chapter 63 says that Antiochus Epiphanes persecuted with Maccabees, without any indication that the latter ended up victorious.

Perhaps the greatest proof of the exclusive interest in kingship for John is that he skips over the entire Republican period of Rome. Under the Republic, Rome grew from an individual city to an empire that encompassed nearly the entire Mediterranean (and of course the three Punic Wars would make the inclusion of Carthage's founding more important), although with at least a de jure exception of Egypt. Yet, after the second king of Rome and the excursus on Macedonia, he goes directly to Julius Caesar in Chapter 64. And even with Caesar, whose life is one of the best attested in all of antiquity, his description reads as much of romance as history. He begins by insinuating a portent from his birth by Caesarian section, saying, "The birth of Julius was not like the birth of (ordinary) men." His first act as an adult is to be "named" a Triumvir, as if it were an official office rather than an informal political alliance, and directly from that to king – even Shakespeare knew better than to think he became a king! John seems to say Caesar fought the Persians, which he did not, and then that he actually married Cleopatra, when their affair was extramarital. He then takes two chapters to explain how two client kings, Archelaus of Cappadocia and Herod of Judea, gave him support. Chapter 67 then talks about the works of Cleopatra, giving an extremely positive assessment, likely out of national pride. Her death – no reason given – segues into Augustus taking possession of the country. All the civil wars, Julius Caesar's assassination, and even Cleopatra's relationship with Mark Antony, are completely scrubbed from the Chronicle.

Augustus is most important to Bishop John because it was during his reign that Jesus was born. Following Luke, he was born in Bethlehem during the census; for good measure, he adds that Augustus decreed the census on the advice of a certain Eumenes and Attalus. As there is no testimony to the census outside of the Christian tradition, it is assuredly fictional, as the names of Eumenes and Attalus suggest – they were the names used by the kings in the 3^rd and 2^nd century BCE dynasty ruling the Roman-ally and Hellenistic kingdom of Pergamum in Asia Minor. As even John recognizes, the purpose of a census was to determine tax levels at a time when taxation was indirect; place of family origin was irrelevant. What's more, Nazareth and the rest of the Galilee, had once been part of the Northern Kingdom of Israel that was exiled (and lost) by the Assyrian Empire. Thus, every Jew living there had an ancestral home in the south, not just Jesus' family. The chapter ends returning to Augustus and his machinations with the calendar.

Chapter 69 briefly relates the reign of Tiberius, mainly some tributes to him, and, of course, the crucifixion of Jesus in Jerusalem. He skips completely over Caligula to the death of Claudius and the reign of Nero. He explains, in Chapter 70, that Nero "was a pagan and an idolater" as if this somehow made him unique; in fact, his Stoic teaching from Seneca and marriage (odd as it was) to the enigmatic Poppaea Sabina probably made his paganism less egregious than many for most of his reign, but more on this in the future. John includes his marriages to men, for which reason he says that after his flight from Rome "his belly grew distended and became like that of a pregnant woman" so his doctor opened it thinking a baby would be born, but Nero died. Again, John has included as much of the fantastic as the historic.

All four emperors of 69 CE and their civil wars are again ignored, as is the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, moving to Titus' death and Domitian's reign at Chapter 71. He is condemned – somewhat surprisingly unlike Nero – for his persecution of Christians, including John the Evangelist. He was put to death for his misdeeds and the "very excellent, humane, and wise" Nerva was chosen to be the next emperor. After his short reign, the "idolatrous" Trajan appears in Chapter 72, mostly for his persecutions of Christians. A Jewish rebellion in Alexandria and Cyrene also leads to some building activity in Egypt, which was added to by his successor Hadrian in the next Chapter. Chapter 74 explains the reigns of Antoninus Pius and Marcus Aurelius: the former "was the first to do justice" in Rome and "punished…evil" in Egypt; the latter followed in his footsteps. For centuries (although not, to my knowledge, in antiquity itself), the rulers from Nerva to Marcus Aurelius have been known as the "Five Good Emperors." Finally, in these chapters, John and I are in basic agreement that the really good ones were Nerva, Antoninus Pius, and Marcus Aurelius, although I think it was Hadrian (whom he treats neutrally) that was the worst.

Chapter 75 skips ahead about seventy years, including the entire period of the Severan dynasty and very close to the period written about by the very competent Herodian. Decius was solely important for his persecutions of Christians; these were, historically, of a much more widespread and official nature than their predecessors (of course, Christianity was much more widespread by 250 CE, too). The next chapter considers Aurelian, and the next Diocletian. The beginning of Diocletian's reign is still a century before my stopping point in 383, but as this is where the next book I will be writing about picks up, I will reserve anything of salience from John during the Diocletian to Gratian period to that post.

John of Nikiu: Greece, Israel, Babylonia, and Persia

Now that we have separated the mythology of Greece from the legend of Assyria, I will continue my discussion of the Chronicle of John, Bishop of Nikiu. So far, John has written of Mesopotamian/Iranian "history" and some Egyptian "history." Next, he comes to legendary Greek history. Again, he conflates it with legend.

In Chapter 22, he writes of Inachus as a descendent of Noah's son Japhet; to the Greeks he was a deified/personified river (one of the many sons of Oceanus and Tethys), and he stands at the head of the genealogy of Argive mythology. John says he instituted worship of the Moon as Io; while this is a traditional identification, Io was considered a daughter or otherwise descendent of Inachus who was seduced by Zeus. John may have this in mind in the next chapter as Zeus has a daughter Libya with a woman that might refer again to Io; Libya married Poseidon (his first mention), and "named the country over which he ruled after" her. Among their sons were Belus and Agenor. Agenor moved and founded Tyre, and his sons were the eponymous founders of Syria, Cilicia, and Phoenicia. A Cretan king, in Chapter 24, attacked Tyre and stole away Europa to marry her; John considers her of the race of Zeus. In mythology, she was a princess of the line under discussion, but her seduction was also by Zeus. The following chapter again misses the connection—John mentions the Theban Laius and Oedipus, without explaining as in myth that their antecedent Cadmus arrived there while searching for his sister, Europa.

At Chapter 27, he turns to the Biblical Melchizedek, king of Jerusalem. He calls him "holy though of gentile origin," which is silly because he was a (seemingly older) contemporary of Abraham, the first Jew. The gentile distinction should be obvious. He extrapolates an awful lot on the Bible's lack of history for him – Jewish commentary usually identifies him with Shem, while Christians often relate him to Jesus. Even more oddly, he spends much more attention on Melchizedek than on Abraham, and almost none for Isaac, Jacob, or his children (including Joseph). It is only at Chapter 30 that he gets to the Exodus from Egypt, and with characteristic perspective from the Egyptian side as the Jewish. Egyptian and Jewish affairs continue through the time of David and Solomon.

The chronology here is quite jumbled, with Greek events being equated in time with Jewish history, jumping from the time of Joshua, or the Judges, before the Exodus or after the institution of the monarchy. In Chapter 34, he says that "Prometheus and Epimetheus discovered a stone tablet with an inscription which had been written…in the days of the ancients…And Elijah the prophet interpreted the verses." As we had seen from Hesiod, Prometheus and Epimetheus were prior to mortal humanity, while Elijah lived well after the division of the Jewish kingdom in two. In Chapter 36, John says that Orpheus wrote a "Theogony." Heracles is again mentioned as part of the voyage of Jason and the Argonauts in Chapters 40-41. Chapters 45 and 47 discuss Troy a bit, although references to the Trojan War are very incidental.

In Chapter 48, John moves directly from Solomon, who built the Temple, to Nebuchadnezzar, who destroyed it. John calls him a king of Persia, rather than Babylonia. After spending two more chapters on his conquests, using especially Apocryphal sources, he turns to Cyrus – who actually was king of Persia – in Chapter 51. John focuses on his relationship with Daniel, and his counsel aiding his victories. Cyrus' son and successor, Cambyses, reversed his father's pro-Jewish policies, and so had troubles in his conquest of Egypt, although he eventually emerged victorious. At the end of this long chapter, I think John has confused himself. He briefly mentions the final few Persian emperors before Alexander the Great, but it reads as if they directly followed Cambyses. This in follows neither the Bible nor Herodotus, and thus he skips over the Persian Wars against Greece completely. He has gotten himself even more out of place such that the Peloponnesian War is completely irrelevant to his purposes.

Looking at the events John chooses to recount, most of which do have plenty of parallels, it is interesting to think about the methodology (if one exists) behind that choice. He uses Greek mythology, fit within a Noahide (with all his emphasis on descent from Noah, however, he never actually wrote about the Flood!) genealogy, to give what really amounts to a geography lesson. He also is very Hellenistic in placing scientific or technological firsts in Greece. He also tends to see the Bible and kingship as the basis of history. Thus he writes about Melchizedek the king, but not Isaac and Jacob the patriarchs. Joseph, because of his relationship to the Egyptian pharaoh, is then an even more curious omission. Because the many Greek leaders in the Trojan War, though kings, function in a way we might recognize as democratic – and defeat the "Eastern" monarchy of Troy – he doesn't pay much attention. When the democratic/oligarchic/timocratic Greeks defeat the Persian Empire, or fight amongst themselves – even though by this point we are at very clear and historically attested material – John doesn't even say anything.

In my next post, I will continue with his take on Rome and Macedonia.

John of Nikiu: Without Foundation

I wrote my last post before I began reading the Chronicle of John, Bishop of Nikiu (as translated by R. H. Charles, and republished in the Christian Roman Empire series). Over the next day and a half, I read the first half the book, another one that will be entering my "rotation". John's writing demonstrates the great – and silly – pitfalls that come from being without the foundations I was explaining the need for.

John lived in the late seventh century in Upper Egypt, the first generation following the Arab conquest of that country. His work is in the Byzantine chronicle tradition (of which another example to come soon) that I wrote of a few days ago in which all world history is combined into a whole narrative, although some national pride comes through with some focus on Egyptian affairs. According to the introduction (p. iv, §2), the John wrote his Chronicle in Greek, and possibly (in part or in full) Coptic – an Egyptian language written in Greek letters – as well. At some point in time, the text was translated into Arabic, and then in 1602 from Arabic into Ethiopic (p. v). It is only two manuscripts (§3) from this final language that Europeans discovered in the 19^th century, and from which the translation to English was made. Thus, it's quite possible that some of the oddities of the history are due to the numerous translation and not John himself; as Charles explains (p. vi, §4), "the Ethiopic translators were…largely ignorant of the historical persons and events described." On the other hand, the notes points to comparisons with other chroniclers, so neither John nor his genre can be completely innocent.

I plan to take a few posts to go over some of the issues I have found with John's Chronicle. The important foundations of history I described were the Jewish and the Graeco-Roman. As a Coptic Christian, John believed in the Coptic tradition, and as an Egyptian he was a cultural heir to the Greek tradition, via the Byzantine Empire, via the Roman Empire, which imported Greek Hellenistic culture, which itself involved both ancient Greek and Egyptian traditions. Anyhow, at the very least he should have had access to some of the Greek literature we have, in addition to the Bible. Yet, he combines mythology with religion in some very weird ways.

In the second chapter, he explains that Adam's son Seth named the five known planets (excluding Earth); while the notes and the many translations put this into question, it appears that John was suggesting that Seth gave them the Greek version of the names that we use, which is to say the names of Greek and Roman g-ds. Thus, the planets would be Hermes (Mercury), Aphrodite (Venus), Earth, Ares (Mars), Zeus (Jupiter), and Cronus (Saturn). It is later, according to John (Chapter 6), that Cronus, "a giant," who was a descendent of Noah's son Shem – and thus at least ten generations later than Seth – was named after the planet. I don't know whether the stories of mythologies developed before or after the identification of the g-ds with the planets, but even John can't really believe this order of things. Indeed, in the previous chapter, he explains that the Persians worshipped the Biblical giant Nimrod of Babylon, and identified him with the constellation Orion. John further places Cronus in "history," calling him the first king of Persia and Assyria (his distinctions between the two are never very clear). He married Rhea, as in mythology, but here an "Assyrian woman," and they have two sons: Zeus (also called "Picus") and Ninus. Zeus, of course, was Cronus' youngest son with Rhea in Greek mythology, while Ninus (as John explains) was the founder of the Assyrian capital Nineveh. The names, I believe, are identical in Greek, and while John didn't invent him, he may well have been a Greek personification of the city rather than a figure of Assyrian history or lore. Back to following the mythology, Cronus moved "to the west" to rule there, but still Zeus-Picus killed his father "because he devoured his children"; presumably these are the not here named Poseidon, Hades, Hera, Demeter, and Hestia. In myth though, Cronus moves from Greece to Italy after he has been defeated by his son. Based on Chapter 9, it seems that Zeus ruled in the west, as well.

The next chapter has Zeus marrying both his mother Rhea and his sister, who still is not named. In the mythological tradition, Rhea was also overthrown in Zeus' rebellion, but he did marry his sister Hera – and have a daughter (Persephone) by Demeter. "[H]e begat by her a son named Belus": who the mother is is not clear, but I presume it's Hera. Belus, Greek for the Semitic idol Baal, does not match well with either of her sons, but was identified with the Sun (Helios), and eventually Zeus/Jupiter in Hellenistic and Roman times. Belus succeeded his father as king of Assyria, and was followed by Ninus (Chapter 8), who also married his mother, who in Chapter 6 was the same Rhea but now in Chapter 8 is Semiramis, the famous Assyrian queen of legend. Perseus comes to challenge Ninus' sons in Chapter 21; while the mythical Danae is forgotten as his mother, Zeus seems to remain as his father who helps him develop magical powers through the Gorgon (Medusa in mythology), to defeat Sardanapalus, presumably the reigning son of Ninus. Sardanapalus was a name like Semiramis in the legends of Assyria. As the new king, Perseus gives his name to the country, i.e., Persia.

In Chapter 9, Hermes follows Zeus in the west, with an alternate name of Faunus. (Traditionally, the former is the name of the messenger of the g-ds, while the latter is a Roman deity of wildlife [the "fauna" of "flora and fauna"], who was sometimes identified with the Greek Pan, son of Hermes.) As a worker in gold and silver, he drew envy from his brothers and fled to Egypt. His story is reminiscent of the Biblical Joseph. John returns to Hermes in Chapter 15, calling him a sage who explained the doctrine of the Trinity. Chapter 11 explains that Hephaestus was a king in Egypt; otherwise his character follows mythology. Chapter 12 adds that both he and his son who succeeded him were worshipped as the Sun. The next chapter gives Dionysus rule over Egypt as well; both it and the fourteenth name cities in Egypt built by Dionysus and Osiris as identified with Apollo. Heracles (Hercules) was a philosopher of Tyre in Phoenicia who discover silk (Chapter 20).

There is too much about John's Chronicle to put in one post, but as my next post will get into the right way to read foundations to Greek prehistory, I will just add that in Chapter 28, Hesiod is named as a descendent of Noah's son Japhet, and called the inventor of Greek writing.

An internet version of Charles' translation can be found at the Tertullian Project.

Philostorgius: History of Heresy

I listed my latest "rotation" in a previous post; before I move on to the next rotation, there are some histories that I am starting and reading up to the point of the Emperor Gratian's death in 383 that I reached in my reading. I have just done that now for the Ecclesiastical History of Philostorgius, or rather what is left of it. As I mentioned below, medieval Byzantine writers made summaries, called epitomes, and collections of excerpts of earlier books. Philostorgius' work only exists today in these forms: a detailed summary by Photius, and some extracts by Suidas. I am reading the translation by Edward Walford for Bohn's Ecclesiastical Library.

Philostorgius is now the fourth church historian I am reading for this period. Like Sozomen, Socrates, and Theodoret, he wrote in the middle of the fifth century as a conscious continuation of the History of Eusebius, the acknowledged father of history for the Christian Church. Even without the fullness of his text, it is clear that Philostorgius utilized the same characteristics of the genre: major imperial affairs and political involvement in the church, succession in major bishoprics, important regional and universal councils, short lives of holy men and women including their miracles and missionary activity, and the waxing and waning of heresies and schisms. (Unlike the Latin-speaking Optatus, the historians all wrote in Greek, and so generally focused more of their attentions in the East, thus make little to no mention of Donatism.)

Philostorgius, however, has an important difference from the other authors. Whereas as those three were all orthodox Christians, defenders of the Nicene creed, and for whom the oft-exiled Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria, was the hero of the era, Philostorgius was an adherent of the Arian heresy. Arius, a fellow Alexandrian and arch-rival of Athanasius, objected to what was becoming – and was codified at Nicaea – the orthodox understanding of the metaphysics of the Trinity in the early fourth century. Athanasius and his allies took the position of "consubstantiality," or homoousian in Greek; basically, this means that all three "Persons" of the Trinity were of the same "substance." More importantly, it places Jesus in a position of equality with G-d the Father when it comes to creation. Arius and his followers denied this sameness. Following his death, the Arian heresy split further between homoiousians (sometimes called semi-Arians) who believed the Son was of "similar" substance to the Father, and heteroousians who claimed their substances were completely different. Philostorgius was a heteroousian.

This controversy is archetypal for why metaphysics has a bad name. G-d has no part in physicality, so I don't know how to conceive of a non-physical substance, let alone the possibility of multiple non-physical substances.

Photius (a leader in the Byzantine church) and Walford (a man of the Victorian era) also don't like what Philostorgius has to say on these matters, but for a different reason. Whereas Optatus argued with Parmenianus but stilled called him "brother," Photius is full of insults for Philostorgius as he summarizes his work, chapter by chapter. Starting in the third chapter of the first book, Photius calls him "impious," and then again many times thereafter. I suppose that with the historian long dead, Photius saw no need for charity. Walford, in his notes, always compares Philostorgius unfavorably to the three orthodox historians, and uses the notes for some apologetics of his own.

While discussing some missionary activity in Book III, Philostorgius goes into some geography. This brings up some fantastic beasts he had seen, which had been brought back to the Rome or Constantinople, where he had seen them. Though some of this is clearly made-up, considering his inclusion of a unicorn, one animal brings with it an interesting story. He claims, in the eleventh chapter of the book, that an Indian (it's unclear whether he actually means India, as there seems to be confusion between that country and Ethiopia) king had sent the Emperor Constantine the Great a kind of ape, which was preserved after its death. He says,

"It seems to me that the Greeks must once upon a time have seen this monster, and, amazed at the strangeness of its appearance, adopted it as a god, in accordance with their ordinary practice of making a god out of everything strange and wonderful...The sphinx, too, is a kind of ape, as I myself can testify from what I have seen. The rest of the body of the sphinx is covered with hair, just as all other apes, but from its head to its breast it is free from hair, and has the breasts of a woman. Where its body is bare, it has a raised portion of red, like millet, running round it, which elegantly harmonizes with the fleshy colour in the middle, and improves it. Its face is tolerably round, and inclining to the form of a woman. Its voice is very like the human voice, though not articulate; it most nearly approximates that of a woman uttering her words in a hurried and indistinct manner under the influence of anger and grief, and it is rather flat than sharp; the beast moreover is very savage and cunning, and cannot be tamed without difficulty."

He then rationalizes the myth of Oedipus and the Sphinx at Thebes. This monkey, he supposes, had somehow reached the city and was terrorizing the residents with its wild, aggressive, and violent behavior. Having a nearly human voice, the legend turned its wordless noises into the famous enigma. Oedipus was able to kill it, and the rest was legendizing. This seems to me to be a good illustration of how educated Christians understood Greek mythology, without either turning everything into demons or claiming the whole thing is made up.

Following the death of Constantine I in 337, through the death of Valens in 378, Constantius II and Valens had power in the Eastern Empire for all but a couple of years. Both of these Augusti were, at times, sympathetic to or active partisans for the Arian heresy. Thus, despite the so-called orthodoxy of the followers of the Nicene faith, they were often out of power and influence. These were years of fast growth for the Christian religion, as with the exception of Julian, it seems that each Christian emperor was more and more fully Christian and less and less pagan; the laity being full of new converts were probably easily swayed to believe as the reigning bishops taught, despite their divergence from what had been agreed to at Nicaea. The Western Emperors, very much including the brothers of Constantius and Valens, were steadier with the consubstantial party.

Both sides proved quick to use the coercive power of the state against both intra- and inter-faith enemies, so soon after the persecutions by the pagans. Perhaps this justifies, in some small degree, the desire for revenge by the pagans when Julian came to power as their last hope. I would not, at this point, call it bloody, but I also wouldn't quite call it clean. There was somewhat more liberty than under the magisterial confessionalization system of post-Reformation Europe, but maybe only because the different religions, within Christianity and without, were harder to reconcile. It is also clear from Nicene, Arian, and pagan writers that everyone took a providential view of events in the declining days of the Empire. Political leaders of all stripes, to say the least, each made their share of mistakes.

An internet version of the same translation I used can be found at the Tertullian Project.