No doubt, my dear Celsus, The scholiast thinks this Celsus the writer of the True Word, an attack upon Christianity, to which Origen replied in his eight books contra Celsum. He is certainly identical with the man whom Origen himself believed to be the author of that work, who, he says, was an Epicurean living under Hadrian and the Antonines, author also of a treatise against sorcery (vide c. 21 and note). And the True Word itself, a large part of which is preserved in Origen, seems to have been written about a.d. 180. But as Origen is not sure who wrote it, and as it is considered Platonic rather than Epicurean in character, the prevailing opinion is that its author is not the Celsus of Lucian, but an otherwise unknown Platonist of the same name and date. you think it a slight
and trivial matter to bid me set down in a book and
send you the history of Alexander, the impostor of
Abonoteichus, including all his clever schemes, bold
emprises, and sleights of hand; but in point of fact,
if one should aim to examine each detail closely, it
would be no less a task than to record the exploits
of Philip’s son Alexander. The one was as great in
' villainy as the other in heroism. Nevertheless, if
it should be your intention to overlook faults as you
read, and to fill out for yourself the gaps in my tale,
I will undertake the task for you and will essay to
clean up that Augean stable, if not wholly, yet to
the extent of my ability, fetching out some few
basketsful, so that from them you may judge how
great, how inexpressible, was the entire quantity



 

of filth that three thousand head of cattle were
able to create in many years.
 
I blush for both of us, I confess, both for you and
for myself—for you because you want a consummate
rascal perpetuated in memory and in writing, and
for myself because I am devoting my energy to such
an end, to the exploits of a man who does not
deserve to have polite people read about him, but
rather to have the motley crowd in a vast amphitheatre see him being torn to pieces by foxes or
apes. Yet if anyone brings this reproach against
us, we shall be able to refer to an apt precedent.
Arrian, the disciple of Epictetus, a Roman of the
highest distinction, and a life-long devotee of letters,
laid himself open to the same charge, and so can plead
our cause as well as his own; he thought fit, you
know, to record the life of Tillorobus, the brigand. There is no life of Tillorobus among the extant writings of Arrian, and we know nothing of him from any other source. His name is given in the y group of MSS. as Tilliborus, but compare C.I.L. vi, 15295. 
In our own case, however, we shall commemorate a
far more savage brigand, since our hero plied his
trade not in forests and mountains, but in cities, and
instead of infesting just Mysia and Mount Ida and
harrying a few of the more deserted districts of
Asia, he filled the whole Roman Empire, I may
say, with his brigandage.
 
First I shall draw you a word-picture of the man
himself, making as close a likeness as I can, although
I am not particularly good at drawing. As regards
his person—in order that I may exhibit this also to
ou—he was tall and handsome in appearance, and
really godlike; his skin was fair, his beard not very


 

thick; his long hair was in part natural, in part
false, but very similar, so that most people did not
detect that it was not his own. His eyes shone
with a great glow of fervour and enthusiasm; his
voice was at once very sweet and very clear; and in
a word, no fault could be found with him in any
respect as far as all that went.
 
Such, then, was his outward appearance; but his
soul and his mind—O Heracles Forfender! O Zeus,
Averter of Mischief! O Twin Brethren, our Saviours!
may it be the fortune of our enemies and ill-wishers
to encounter and have to do with the like of him!
In understanding, quick-wittedness, and penetration
he was far beyond everyone else; and activity of
mind, readiness to learn, retentiveness, natural aptitude for studies—all these qualities were his, in every
case to the full. But he made the worst possible use
of them, and with these noble instruments at his
service soon became the most perfect rascal of all those
who have been notorious far and wide for villainy, surpassing the Cercopes, surpassing Eurybatus, or Phrynondas, or Aristodemus, or Sostratus. The Cercopes were two impish pests who crossed the ath of Heracles to their disadvantage. For the little that is known about the other typical rascals, see the Index. _ He himself,
writing to his son-in-law Rutilianus once upon a
time and speaking of himself with the greatest
reserve, claimed to be like Pythagoras; but—
with all due respect to Pythagoras, a wise man
of more than human intelligence—if he had been
this man’s contemporary, he would have seemed
a child, I am very sure, beside him! Yet Pythagoras was no mean thaumaturge; see Plutarch, Numa, 65. In the
name of the Graces, do not imagine that I say this
to insult Pythagoras, or in the endeavour to bring




 

them into connection with one another by likening
their doings. On the contrary, if all that is worst
and most opprobrious in what is said of Pythagoras
to discredit him (which I for my part cannot believe
to be true) should nevertheless be brought together
for comparison, the whole of it would be but an
infinitesimal part of Alexander’s knavery. In sum,
imagine, please, and mentally configure a highly
diversified soul-blend, made up of lying, trickery,
perjury, and malice; facile, audacious, venturesome,
diligent in the execution of its schemes, plausible,
convincing, masking as good, and wearing an appearance absolutely opposite to its purpose. Indeed,
there is nobody who, after meeting him for the first
time, did not come away with the idea that he was
the most honest and upright man in the world—yes,
and the most simple and unaffected. And on top
of all this, he had the quality of magnificence, of
forming no petty designs but always keeping his
mind upon the most important objects.
 
While he was still a mere boy, and a very handsome one, as could be inferred from the sere and
yellow leaf of him, and could also be learned by
hearsay from those who recounted his story, he
trafficked freely in his attractiveness and sold his
company to those who sought it. Among others, he
had an admirer who was a quack, one of those who
advertise enchantments, miraculous incantations,
charms for your love-affairs, “sendings” The word is borrowed from Kipling. A “sending” is a “visitation,” seen from a different point of view. for your
enemies, disclosures of buried treasure, and successions to estates. As this man saw that he was an apt
lad, more than ready to assist him in his affairs, and


 

that the boy was quite as much enamoured with his
roguery as he with the boy’s beauty, he gave him a
thorough education and constantly made use of him
as helper, servant, and acolyte. He himself was
professedly a public physician, but, as Homer says
of the wife of Thon, the Egyptian, he knew

 Many a drug that was good in a compound, and
many a bad one, Odyssey4, 230. 

all of which Alexander inherited and took over.
This teacher and admirer of his was a man of Tyana
by birth, one of those who had been followers of
the notorious Apollonius, and who knew his whole
bag of tricks. You see what sort of school the man
that I am describing comes from!