The Scythian or Consul (1-5)

Anacharsis was not the first to come from Scythia to Athens out of a longing for Greek culture. Before him there was Toxaris, a wise man, who loved beauty and was eager in pursuit of the best styles of living. At home he was not a member of the royal family or of the aristocracy [*] ; he belonged to the general run of the people—called “eight feet” in Scythia, meaning the owner of two oxen and a cart. This Toxaris never went back to Scythia, but died in Athens, where not long after his death he came to be considered a hero, and the Athenians sacrifice to him as “The Foreign Physician”—this was the name they gave him when they made him a hero. The reason for this designation, and the events which brought about his enrolment among the heroes, and his reputation as one of the sons of Asclepius are perhaps worth relating. Then you may see that to confer immortality on someone and send him to Zamolxis [*] is a custom not of the Scythians only—it is also possible for Athenians to deify Scythians in Greece.

At the time of the great plague [*] the wife of Archetiles the Areopagite dreamed that the Scythian

Toxaris stood by her side and bade her tell the Athenians that they would be released from the grip of the plague if they sprinkled their alleyways liberally with wine. The Athenians took notice of what she told them and carried out frequent sprinklings with the result that the plague stopped—the smell of the wine may have dispersed some noxious vapours, or the hero Toxaris, being a medical man, may have had some other special knowledge when he gave his advice. In any case to this day payment for his cure is still offered to him—a white horse, sacrificed on his tomb. Dimaenete said he came from there when he gave her the instructions about the wine, and Toxaris was found buried there, being recognised by the inscription, though it was no longer all visible, and more especially by a carving of a Scythian on the pillar; in the figure’s left hand was a strung bow, in his right what looked like a book; even now you may still see more than half of it, including all the bow and the book; the upper half of the pillar including the face has been worn away in the course of time; it is situated not far from the Dipylon, on the left as you go towards the Academy; the mound is quite small and the pillar lies on the ground; nevertheless it is always garlanded and the story is that the hero has cured several sufferers from fevers—this is not surprising indeed since he once cured the whole city.

My reason for mentioning the story was this: Toxaris was still alive when Anacharsis, who had recently put in at Piraeus, went up to Athens. A stranger and a foreigner he experienced considerable confusion of mind, for everything was strange and there were the many sounds which frightened him;

he did not know what to do with himself; he saw that people who saw him laughed at his dress; he met no one who spoke his language, and altogether he was already sorry he had made the trip. He decided just to see Athens and then immediately to retrace his steps and embark for the voyage back to the Bosporus, from where his journey home to Scythia would be quite short. While Anacharsis was in this frame of mind a good angel appeared to him when he was already in the Ceramicus, in fact it was Toxaris. Toxaris had been first attracted by the familiar cut of his Scythian dress and then was bound to recognise Anacharsis himself quite easily as he was of very noble stock and one of the leading men of Scythia. But Anacharsis had no means of recognising Toxaris as a fellow-countryman, with his Greek garb, his shaven chin, his lack of belt or sword, his fluency of speech—one of the real Attic aborigines; so much had time changed him.

Toxaris addressed him in Scythian. “Are you not perchance Anacharsis the son of Daucetas?” he asked. Anacharsis wept for joy at having found one who spoke his tongue and knew who he was back home in Scythia. “How is it that you know me, my friend?” he asked. “I myself am from your country. My name is Toxaris; no aristocrat, so you wouldn’t recognise it.” “Surely you’re not the same Toxaris as the one who, as I heard, out of love for Greece left his wife and young children in Scythia and went to Athens and now spends his life there honoured by the men of rank?” “I am that man,” he said, “if there is still some word of me at home.” “Well,” said Anacharsis, “you may know that I am

a disciple and a convert to your longing to see Greece. This was why I left home and came on this journey. My adventures among the peoples on the way have been past telling, and if I had not met you I should have gone back again to my ship before sunset as I had decided; I have been in such a state of confusion, with everything so strange and novel to my eyes. Now by our native gods Acinaces [*] and Zamolxis I ask you, Toxaris, to take me with you and be my guide and show me the best of what there is in Athens and then in the rest of Greece—their finest laws, their greatest men, their customs, assemblies, their way of life, their constitution. It was to see all this that you, and I after you, made our long journey. Do not let me go back without seeing it all.”

“Your words,” said Toxaris, “betray little affection if you mean to come to the very doors and then go back again. Cheer up now! You won’t go away, in the way you suggest, and the city will not readily let you go: she has more charms than that to captivate the stranger. She will grip your heart so tightly that you will not remember wife or children, if you have any, any more. Now I’ll show you the quickest way of seeing the whole city of Athens and more—all Greece and the glories of the Greek nation. There is a certain wise man in Athens. He is Athenian by birth but has travelled abroad widely to Asia and Egypt and has mixed with the cream of mankind. But for all that he is not one of the rich; actually he is quite poor. You’ll see he is an old man dressed in very humble fashion. Nevertheless he is held in great honour for his wisdom and other qualities. As

a result they employ him to frame laws for the government of the city and are resolved to live in accordance with his ordinances. Make him your friend, get to know what sort of man he is, and you will find all Greece in him, and know already the sum of her glories. I could do you no greater favour than to introduce you to him.”