[35,0] THE THIRTY-FIFTH DISCOURSE, DELIVERED IN CELAENAE IN PHRYGIA.

[35,1]  GENTLEMEN, I have come before you not to display 
my talents as a speaker nor because I want money from 
you, or expect your praise. For I know not only that I 
myself am not sufficiently well equipped to satisfy 
you by my eloquence, but also that your circumstances 
are not such as to need my message. Furthermore, 
the disparity between what you demand of a 
speaker and my own powers is very great. For it is 
my nature to talk quite simply and unaffectedly and 
in a manner in no wise better than that of any 
ordinary person; whereas you are devoted to oratory 
to a degree that is remarkable, I may even say 
excessive, and you tolerate as speakers only those 
who are very clever.

[35,1] Nay, my purpose in coming forward is not to gain 
your admiration—for I could not gain that from 
you even were I to utter words more truthful than 
those of the Sibyl or of Bacis — but rather that no 
one may look askance at me or ask others who I am 
and whence I came. For at present quite possibly 
people suspect that I am one of your wiseacres, one 
of your know-it-alls, basing their suspicion upon a 
ludicrous and absurd bit of evidence, namely, that 
I wear my hair long. For if long hair were accountable 
for virtue and sobriety, mankind would need 
no great power nor one difficult of attainment.

[35,3] However, I fear that fools get no good from their 
long hair, not even if they get shaggy to the very heart 
— as in the case of Aristomenes, the Messenian, who 
caused a deal of trouble for the Spartans, and who, 
though taken captive many times, always managed 
to escape from them— he, we are told, when at 
last he met his death, was found to be in that 
condition. I claim, therefore, that these nude 
philosophers  get no good from their shagginess —
not even if they should join the light infantry-
at least with regard to justice and true sobriety and 
wisdom, nay, not even if they should strip off still 
more clothing and run about stark naked in winter 
time, or else adopt the garb of Medes and Arabs;
just as they will not acquire proficiency with the 
flute by merely donning the costume of flautists.
Neither can asses become horses even if they have 
their nostrils slit still more, or even if they have 
their jaws bored and a curb-chain placed between 
their teeth, or even if their pack-saddles are taken 
from them; nay, they will still bray before the 
walls right lustily and perform the other acts that 
befit their nature.

[35,4] Therefore, let no one suppose that my guise
makes me different from any other man, or that it is 
this that gives me confidence to speak. On the 
contrary, let it be understood by all that I can see 
that, if I keep absolutely silent and do not talk with 
anyone at all, people are much more likely to distrust 
me, I fancy, as giving myself airs, as concealing something 
of importance—for, in fact, in many instances 
men have won admiration merely by reason of 
their silence ;  whereas, if I take my stand in your 
midst and show myself to be no better as a speaker 
than any huckster or muleteer, I see that none will 
be vexed with me, once they have seen for themselves 
what sort of man I am.

[35,5] This is virtually what you may see occurring with 
other men also. For example, when certain people 
suspect a man of having the very thing for which they 
happen to be searching, they go up to him and put 
him through a close questioning. If, then, he draws 
his cloak about him and declines to uncover, they 
are all the more suspicious, but if he immediately 
unwraps and it becomes evident that he is concealing
nothing, they go away convinced that they have been 
in error. You see, it is far better for those who are 
not seeking notoriety to disclose themselves to the 
people, and for a person by speaking to reveal himself 
for the benefit of those who can understand what 
sort of man he is. For I fancy that they will clearly 
show contempt for me, to judge by the treatment 
I have been receiving, and that we shall not understand 
one another, neither I my audience nor they
their speaker. And the blame for this misunderstanding 
I would set down to my account rather than to yours.

[35,6] This, then, is one reason for my coming forward. 
But there is another reason—my fear that I myself 
may become spoiled through your suspicions of me 
and come to believe that there is actually something 
of importance in my make-up. For when many 
people display admiration for one man and consider 
him superior to the rest, great wisdom and strength 
of character are seemingly needed if he is to preserve 
his common sense and not be made a fool 
or be uplifted, as by wings, by the words of the 
crowd—as Homer has portrayed Achilles, through 
vainglory because of his new amour, being uplifted 
and in full career :
"To him they were as wings and raised aloft 
The shepherd of the host"?

[35,7] And how great the power of the populace is to make 
men believe anything they please may perhaps 
best be learned from children : when a sane man is 
followed by urchins who keep calling him crazy. 
For at first the man goes away inwardly annoyed, 
and then, from constantly falling foul of them and 
reviling and chasing them one by one, he gets into 
that very state and ends by going mad, and the 
spoken word he took to be a manifestation of deity, 
not merely the utterance of men, but even that of boys.

[35,8] And, methinks, the tribe of sophists also owes its 
development to some such cause as this. When a lot
of young men with nothing to do go leaping about a 
man with cries of admiration, as the Bacchants leap 
about Dionysus, inevitably that man after no great 
lapse of time will gain a reputation with many others 
for talking sensibly. Why, that is very much the way 
in which parents teach their children how to talk, 
expressing keen delight over anything the children 
may utter. Accordingly, in consequence of that 
applause, the children take courage and make further 
progress and keep speaking more and more distinctly, 
until finally they have mastered the language of 
their associates, be they Greeks or barbarians. The 
sophists also can't help adopting the thought of their 
listeners, saying and thinking such things as fit the 
nature of those listeners, whatever it happens to be ; 
but the majority of these are pretty much simpletons, 
victims of an unkind fate.

[35,9] Well then, conceivably there is no great risk involved 
if a man appears to himself and others to be 
clever, and draws in his train a crowd of fools—just 
as it is said of Orpheus, that he drew to himself trees 
and rocks and stones—but that, while himself a fool, 
a coward, intemperate, in no wise superior to dumb 
cattle, a man should believe that he has any claim to 
virtue and gentility—that indeed is utterly preposterous 
and a mark of the most grievous folly and 
madness. Nay, whenever fame lays hold upon a 
man and that sort of talk starts to smoulder, he 
should tear off his garments and leap forth naked 
upon the public highways, proving to all the world 
that he is no better than any other man. 

[35,10] And if someone follows at his heels claiming to be his
pupil, he must try to drive him away, striking him 
with his fists and pelting him with clods of earth 
and stones, knowing that the fellow is either fool or knave.
However, my remarks are not levelled at all 
sophists, for there are some who follow that calling 
honourably and for the good of others, men to whom 
we should pour libation and offer intense; nay, I 
mean rather those whom they appoint to serve you as 
experts in wisdom, three or four long-haired persons 
like the high-priests of your local rites. I refer to 
the "blessed ones", who exercise authority over all 
your priests, whose title represents one of the two 
continents in its entirety. For these men too owe 
their "blessedness" to crowns and purple  and a 
throng of long-haired lads bearing frankincense.

[35,11] Well then, whatever be the truth in these matters, 
let this suffice. However, I still maintain that long 
hair must not by any means be taken as a mark of 
virtue. For many human beings wear it long because 
of some deity ; and farmers wear long hair, 
without ever having even heard the word philosophy ; 
and, by Zeus, most barbarians also wear long hair, 
some for a covering and some because they believe 
it to be becoming. In none of these cases is a man 
subjected to odium or ridicule. 

[35,12] The reason may well be because their practice is correct. 
For instance, you observe that rabbits, weak creatures 
that they are, are protected by their shaggy coats,
and that among the birds even the weakest find 
their feathers a sufficient protection against wind 
and rain. But as for us human beings, while we 
shear off our locks (just as horse-breeders shear the 
manes of mares  that they plan to mate with asses) 
and also shave our beards, we make coverings for 
our heads. Yet we observe that cocks require 
nothing extra as human beings do, goat-skin coats 
and caps of felt and other similar coverings which 
we stitch together. And yet what cap of Arcadian 
or Laconian make could be more suitable than a 
man's own hair ? " Besides," someone will ask, 
" what need is there for so many coverings for the 
body ? " No need, at least for men of wealth ; 
indeed they do not need hands or feet either.

[35,13] But {speaking of protection}, I perceive that this 
city of yours also is inferior to none of the first rank, 
and I rejoice with you and am content that it is so. 
For example, you occupy the strongest site and the 
richest on the continent ; you are settled in the 
midst of plains and mountains of rare beauty ; you 
have most abundant springs and a soil of greatest 
fertility, bearing, all told, unnumbered products,
"Both wheat and spelt and broad-eared barley 
white" ; 
and many are the droves of cattle and many the 
flocks of sheep you tend and pasture. And as 
for rivers, the largest and most serviceable have 
their source here—the Marsyas yonder, bearing its 
waters through the midst of your city, and the 
Orgas, and the Maeander, by far the most godlike  
and the wisest of all rivers, a river which with its 
countless windings visits, one may almost say, all 
that is best in Asia. 

[35,14] Furthermore, you stand as a bulwark in front 
of Phrygia and Lydia and Caria besides ; and there are other 
tribes around you whose members are most numerous, 
Cappadocians and Pamphylians and Pisidians, and for them all your 
city constitutes a market and a place of meeting. 
And also many cities unknown to fame and many 
prosperous villages are subject to your sway. And 
a very great index of your power is found in the 
magnitude of the contributions with which you are 
assessed. For, in my opinion, just as those beasts of 
burden are judged to be most powerful which carry 
the greatest loads, so also it is reasonable to suppose 
that those cities are the most considerable which 
pay the largest assessments.

[35,15] And what is more, the courts are in session every 
other year in Celaenae, and they bring together an 
unnumbered throng of people—litigants, jurymen, 
orators, princes, attendants, slaves, pimps, muleteers, 
hucksters, harlots, and artisans. Consequently 
not only can those who have goods to sell obtain the 
highest prices, but also nothing in the city is out of
work, neither the teams nor the houses nor the women. 

[35,16] And this contributes not a little to prosperity ; for 
wherever the greatest throng of people comes together, 
there necessarily we find money in greatest 
abundance, and it stands to reason that the place 
should thrive. For example, it is said, I believe, 
that the district in which the most flocks are quartered 
proves to be the best for the farmer because of the 
dung, and indeed many farmers entreat the shepherds 
to quarter their sheep on their land. 

[35,17] So it is, 
you see, that the business of the courts is deemed of 
highest importance toward a city's strength and all 
men are interested in that as in nothing else. And 
the foremost cities share this business each in its 
turn in alternate years. However, it is said that now 
the interval is going to be longer, for they claim that 
the people resent being constantly driven here and 
there. Yes, and you share also in the sanctuaries 
of Asia and in the expenditures they entail, quite as 
much as do those cities in which the sanctuaries are.
Accordingly I know of no city that is more favoured 
by fortune than Celaenae and no people that leads a 
better existence—save only the people of India. 

[35,18] For in India, according to report, there are rivers, 
not of water as in your land, but one of milk, one of 
translucent wine, another of honey, and another of 
olive oil. And these streams spring from hills 
near by, as if from the breasts of Mother Earth. 
And all these products are immeasurably superior 
to those we have both in flavour and in potency.
For what we have in our country we gather in scanty 
measure and with difficulty from certain animals 
and plants, crushing the fruits of trees and plants 
and extracting the food of living creatures by 
milking and by robbing the hive ; while the products 
of India are altogether purer, untainted, methinks, 
by violence and ruthlessness. Moreover, the rivers 
flow during one month for the king, and that 
constitutes his tribute, while for the rest of the 
year they flow for the people.

[35,19] So every day the Indians assemble with their 
children and their wives at the springs and river-banks, 
sporting and laughing as if in expectation of 
a feast. And by the banks there grows the lotus—
a sturdy plant and, one might say, the sweetest of 
all foods, not, as the lotus in our land, mere fodder 
for quadrupeds—and also much sesame and parsley, 
at least as one might judge from the outward similarity 
of those plants, although for quality they are 
not to be compared. And that country produces 
also another seed, a better food than wheat and 
barley and more wholesome. And it grows in huge 
calyxes, like those of roses but more fragrant and 
larger. This plant they eat, both root and fruit, at 
no expense of labour.

[35,20] And there are many canals which issue from the 
rivers, some large and some small, mingling with one 
another and made by man to suit his fancy. And 
by their aid the Indians convey with ease the fluids 
I have named, just as we convey the water of our 
gardens. And there are baths also close by at their
disposal, the water of which in the one case is warm 
and whiter than silver and in the other it is blue 
from its depth and coldness. In these they swim, 
women and children together, all of them beautiful. 
And after the bath, I dare say, reclining in the 
meadows they sing and hum.

[35,21] And there are in that land meadows of utter beauty 
and a variety of flowering trees that provide shade 
from high above, though they bring their fruit within 
reach of all who wish to pluck it as the branches nod. 
And the birds charm them by their song, some 
seated in the meadows, a great flock of them, and 
some high up among the topmost branches, their 
notes more tuneful than those of our musical instruments. 
And a gentle breeze is ever blowing, and the 
climate is nearly constant throughout the year, and 
it resembles most closely that of early summer. 
And what is more, not only is their sky clearer, but 
also the stars are more numerous and more brilliant. 
And these people live more than four hundred years, 
and during all that time they are beautiful and 
youthful and neither old age nor disease nor poverty 
is found among them.

[35,22] So wonderful and so numerous are these blessings, 
and yet there are people called Brachmanes  who, 
abandoning those rivers and the people scattered 
along their banks, turn aside and devote themselves 
to private speculation and meditation, undertaking 
amazing physical labours without compulsion and 
enduring fearful tests of endurance. And it is said 
that they have one special fountain, the Fountain
of Truth, by far the best and most godlike of all, 
and that those who drink their fil thereof have never 
been known to lie. Regarding conditions in that land, 
then, it is a true story that you have heard. For 
some of those who have been there have vouched 
for it; though only a few do go there, in pursuit 
of trade, and they mingle only with the people 
of the coast. And that branch of the Indian race 
is in low repute, and all the others say harsh things 
of them.

[35,23] It must be admitted that the people of India are 
more fortunate than you are, but that you are more 
fortunate than all others—with the exception of just 
one more race of mortals, namely, those most rich 
in gold. And their gold is obtained from ants. 
These ants are larger than foxes, though in other 
respects similar to the ants we have. And they 
burrow in the earth, just as do all other ants. And 
that which is thrown out by their burrowing is gold, 
the purest of all gold and the most resplendent. 
Now there are close to one another a series of what 
might be called hills of gold dust, and the whole 
plain is agleam. Therefore it is difficult to look 
thereon in the sunlight, and many of those who have 
made the attempt have lost their sight. 

[35,24] But the people who live near that land, having traversed 
the intervening territory (desert land of no great extent) 
in chariots drawn by horses of greatest speed, arrive 
at midday, at which time the ants have gone underground; 
and then these men seize the gold that has 
been cast forth and flee. And the ants, becoming
aware of what has happened, give chase, and, having 
overtaken their quarry, fight until they either meet 
their death or kill the foe—for they are the most 
valiant of all creatures. And so these at any rate 
know what their gold is worth, and they even die 
sooner than give it up.

[35,25] Well then, what other people among the nations 
of our time are said to be fortunate? The people 
of Byzantium, who enjoy a most fertile land and a 
sea abounding in fruits. But they have neglected 
the land because of the excellence of the sea. For 
whereas the land produces its fruits for them only 
after a long interval of time and toil is required to 
secure them, the sea yields up its treasures at once 
without any labour on their part.