SOURCE: "Six Gods and Men" in Studies in Lucian, A. M. Hakkert, Ltd., 1973, pp. 97-118.

[In the following excerpt, Baldwin discusses Lucian's connection to religious developments and social unrest during his lifetime.]

…Apart from Christians and Jews, Lucian took stock of the major religious phenomena of his age. The Dialogues of the Gods clearly can have their literary antecedents traced back beyond Plato and Xenophanes to Homer. These, and the Menippus pieces, make obvious mock of the anthropomorphic approach to religion. The theme was not new; and not exhausted.²⁴ The Dialogues of the Dead were a handy vehicle for timely jests on hero-worship and deification; the second century was poor in neither. The technology of religion is passed under review in the De Luctu and De Sacrificiis. Astrology and the Syrian Goddess are granted mock encomia in counterfeit Ionic.²⁵ Imported gods are examined in the Iudicium Deorum; the absence of Christ from this pantheon of natives and immigrants should again be noted. There is no absolutely convincing explanation for Lucian's neglect of the topic. To assume a secret respect for the cult would seem absurd, and the notion that Christians were disqualified from review because they did not fit the conventions of literary Mimesis is unattractive. Lucian wrote within conventions, not an intellectual straitjacket. Fronto and Celsus were capable of handling the new topic; Marcus Aurelius and Galen also found time for the phenomenon. I imagine that if Lucian had ever had a quarrel with a Christian, we should have seen the latter's jacket soundly dusted.

Between gods and philosophers, though not always irrelevant to either, comes that elusive character, the "common man." Lucian had a good deal to say on this safe and not always unfashionable theme. The topic is to some extent a satiric commonplace. It will not do to adorn Lucian too eagerly with such modern labels as "left-wing," although even the Dialogues of the Courtesans have not escaped this classification.²⁶

Reactions to Lucian's treatment of the theme have greatly varied. Rostovtzeff²⁷ felt that "the social problem as such, the cleavage between the poor and the rich, occupies a prominent place in the dialogues of Lucian; he was fully aware of the importance of the problem." Bompaire,²⁸ by predictable contrast, wrote fearfully: "Je ne doute pas que nous ayons un jour, si elle n'existe pas déjá, une analyse marxiste de Lucien."

Some years ago, I attempted to justify Bompaire's fears by consecrating an article to the element of social satire in Lucian.²⁹ The presence of this element is undeniable and considerable, and I originally used it to convert Lucian into an anti-Roman writer. But second thoughts are not always inferior. Thanks both to my work on this book, and to the researches and criticisms of other scholars,³⁰ I know a good deal more about Lucian and his age than I did ten years ago. C. P. Jones has neatly crystallised the issue in the context of Plutarch: "To deplore aspects of Roman culture is not necessarily to be anti-Roman." I would agree with this dictum in the case of Lucian. To write about the social problems of the Antonine age did not ipso facto make a Greek intellectual anti-Roman. The two facets can be related, indeed should be; but they can be related in more than one way.

The force of the above distinctions, and the purpose and impact of Lucian's animadversions, can be best understood in the first instance by isolating and considering the dramatic contexts employed by the satirist. The conflict between rich and poor is the dominant motif of the 30 short Dialogues of the Dead.³¹ An analysis of the first of these will sufficiently point the way. Diogenes commands Pollux to summon Menippus down to Hades, since the latter will find more scope for laughter down there. "Rich men, satraps, and tyrants" will be the prime targets of his ridicule. Later in the piece, Pollux is given several messages by Diogenes to take to various classes of people up on earth. The wealthy are abused for their greed and preoccupation with usury, and are warned that they will lose everything at death. Consolation is offered to the "many grieving poor" by the assurance that they may look forward to the classless society… which prevails in Hades.

This dialogue does three things. It establishes the tenor of the entire series by indicating the major themes of poverty, wealth, and the classless society of Hades; it suggests that poverty is widespread, and that the miseries of the oppressed may cause social upheaval; finally, by introducing Diogenes and Menippus as the protagonists, it connects the theme of social comment both with the cynics and with Lucian's literary persona.

It is worth adducing some salient points from the rest of the series. In the second of the dialogues, Menippus is busy in Hades making mock of Croesus, Midas, and Sardanapalus for their laments after their lost worldly treasures. His targets are safely dead and securely stereotyped; and they had nothing to do with Rome. The fourth has Charon and Hermes discussing the splendid deaths of the warriors of antiquity, contrasting these with the shameful deceases of present-day men who perish through gluttony or the intrigues of wives. This type of detail always presents a problem. For the reader of the Historia Augusta at least might divine an allusion to the death of Antoninus Pius, who expired of a surfeit of Alpine cheese, and also to the gossip concerning Marcus Aurelius' wife Faustina. Should one proceed from the timeless ethical reflection to the contemporary illustration? Or vice versa? A similar question is evoked by the group of dialogues in the series which centre about the theme of captatio.³² A universal theme, but one of particular notoriety in Roman society and satire, very familiar to the readers of Juvenal, Petronius, Pliny the Younger, and Tacitus.

Other of these little dialogues rehearse jests and themes which are recurrent both in general literature and elsewhere in Lucian. The tenth exhibits Charon and Hermes again, this time loading up a quota of newly arrived dead. Pride of place is naturally given to Menippus. Less happy with their new infernal lot are a male prostitute, a Sicilian tyrant, an athlete, a general, and a philosopher. The choice of types should appeal to admirers of Sartre's Huis Clos. Alexander the Great is taunted with his spurious claim to divinity;³³ an obvious jest, especially coming from Lucian (using Diogenes as his mouthpiece), but one which recalls to the modern reader Vespasian's quip on his impending deification, or Dio Cassius' nice comment to the effect that Caligula learned in A.D. 41 that he was not a god. Readers of Homer will not be surprised to find Achilles unhappy in Lucian's Hades because infernal society pays no respect to military power and glory.³⁴ Equally discontent or demoted are wealthy philosophers such as Plato,³⁵ the now faded Helen,³⁶ and, most absurd, a poor man who regrets the loss of his earthly nothing.³⁷ Menippus and Diogenes, of course, adapt well to Hades; for this they are nicely commended by Cerberus—high praise from the dog to the doggy ones.³⁸

The central motifs of the Dialogues of the Dead are developed and unified in the more ambitious Cataplus, Menippus, and Gallus. The parade of socially conscious gods and philosophers is twice refreshed by the introduction of the cobbler Mycillus, himself something of a stereotype.³⁹ Lucian's choice of setting for his dialogues may be significant. Seminars located in Hades permit an approach more universal than specifically Roman. Yet covert contemporary allusions are not thereby disqualified. And there is a double point to the choice of Menippus as the chief hero of these scenes. Along with Diogenes, he is the obvious person to typify the cynic philosophy. But his role also suggests that the social criticism of the dialogues represents the serious thought of Lucian. The satirist claims to write in the spirit of Menippus;⁴⁰ along with the recurrent Lycinus, he is a frequent vehicle for his real-life admirer.

Hades, however, is only one setting. Wealth and poverty are also the main themes of the short pieces that go under the general title of Saturnalia. A conversation between Cronos and his priest leads into a list of regulations for the Saturnalia, enunciated by Cronosolon. A flurry of correspondence follows: Lucian to Cronos; Cronos to Lucian; Cronos to the rich; the rich to Cronos. The poor neither send nor receive a letter; Lucian is their advocate. In his message to the god, the satirist argues that it is "most irrational" for some men to be very rich whilst others are dying of hunger. Redistribution of property on an equal basis is advocated. Cronos rejects this principle, and tries to argue that the rich are not so happy as the poor like to think. Nevertheless, though no revolutionary, he promises a reformist programme involving greater concessions by the rich. This is the burden of his subsequent letter to them; they must follow his advice in order to forestall more radical demands, and they must act quickly since the poor are already plotting against them. The rich reply, granting the concessions under protest, and grumbling that the more the poor get, the more they will want next time.

Now, the Saturnalia is not to be taken as an ancient Communist Manifesto; Lucian did not want his world tom apart, as we shall see. Yet the antagonisms between rich and poor are portrayed quite unambiguously; the arguments of both sides are provided; alternative social programmes and their implications are analysed. The use of the Roman Satumalia as a setting for these debates is striking; it reflects an occasion which served to emphasise the injustice and inegality of normal conditions.

However, when theory threatens to give way to action, Lucian strikes a different note. A lengthy passage in the Fugitivi⁴¹ has Philosophy complaining to Zeus that certain slaves and hirelings, building workers, cobblers, and the like have fled the poverty and miseries of their lot and are moving around the countryside, posing as cynics, stirring the people up to violence against their masters. And it is not only a rural phenomenon; the agitators are in all the cities.

Unfortunately, the wealth of personal detail in this dialogue suggests that Lucian is attacking specific individuals. Cantharus, the chief villain of the piece, may represent some notorious figure of the day. And the Fugitivi is too closely connected with the Peregrinus to allow impartiality on Lucian's part. But the same basic position is taken in the Demonax, where Lucian's hero is praised for quelling riots.⁴²

It is, then, one thing for Menippus and Diogenes to theorise about social injustice in Hades, but quite another for their latter-day followers to try and change the situation. Assessment of Lucian's position would be complicated by the Cynicus, if this dialogue were to be accepted as genuine. For the hispid protagonist of the piece annihilates Lycinus in debate. But this in itself is so suspicious as to reinforce the manuscript and stylistic arguments levelled against the dialogue.⁴³

The armchair revolutionary, whose ardour cools rapidly when his theories are in danger of being accepted and acted upon, is a common enough phenomenon. In the context of Lucian and his age, speculation turns to romance with dangerous facility. The assumption that writers in general and satirists in particular are conditioned by their own experiences is legitimate, but of limited application. Lucian's family was not rich, but neither was it desperately poor. He certainly had ample opportunity to see poor men in Syria, Greece, and Egypt; in the last of these, he may have had dealings with some in his official capacity. There was plenty of overt social unrest in the second century. Some of this was certainly inspired or helped along by intellectual dissidents, cynics or otherwise. Lucian accused Peregrinus of instigating a revolt in Achaea; according to the Historia Augusta, there actually was a revolt there during the reign of Antoninus Pius.⁴⁴ One does not want to look for cynics under every bed as witch hunters have been known to do for "Reds" (Lucian tended to look for them in the bed, in the case of Peregrinus,⁴⁵) but his general picture is confirmed by the golden-mouthed Dio, who depicted Alexandria as full of rabble-rousing cynics.⁴⁶ And, on the other side of the coin, Lucian's Demonax is backed up by the case of the cynic Pancrates, who saved the sophist-general Lollianus from a bread riot in Athens.⁴⁷ The role of Apollonius of Tyana in the bread riot at Aspendos is also instructive; he quelled the rioters, but wrote a stinging note to the guilty merchants (who were hoarding the grain with a view to exporting it at a profit) which shamed them into supplying the people with food.⁴⁸ It will also be appreciated that bandits, strikers, and fugitives from the tax collector acted without reference to preaching cynics.⁴⁹ The situation was not of course new in the Antonine age; one need only remark that the prevalence of the theme of civic harmony and political concord in Plutarch and Dio Chrysostom is unremarkable.⁵⁰

The sophists at large were not immune to this spectacle. It was one reason for their turning to the intellectual dream world of fourth-century Athens; and, of course, to the material comforts of their profession. Lucian's Somnium spoke for many. However, the sophists were not sealed off in their fantasies from the real world. We have seen that they engaged in municipal politics, represented their communities, practised law, and sometimes sought (in the case of Polemo) to calm the violence of factions. In the case of Herodes, wealth could be the cause of trouble. Lucian's attention to the issue is a refreshing, if not unique, aspect of his writing. There is no reason to deny that he had a genuine sympathy for the poor, inspired in part by his own experiences.

One doubts if the poor would have agreed with Tiresias' eulogy of their lot in the Menippus.⁵¹ Lucian offered no solutions, beyond the reflection that wealth and poverty alike are transient, and he did not care to go on record as supporting violent action against the authorities. His hostility to the "radical" cynics is on a par with the aforementioned attitude of Appian. His observations make better reading than the tissue of clichés in Aristides' Roman Oration, but in some measure they are clichés also. It was one thing to indicate the issue, quite another to support any "final solution" to it. For that way could lead from the relatively safe expedient of being pro-poor to the dangerous path of anti-Roman activity. It can be noted at once, in anticipation of subsequent discussion, that in his two so-called anti-Roman pieces, the Nigrinus and the De Mercede Conductis, the issue is no longer the plight of the poor, but the vulgarities of society and the shallowness of some wealthy pretenders to culture. Lucian's strictures evoke memories of Juvenal and Petronius, not comparisons with revolutionary political tracts.

There had been Greek intellectual opposition to Rome.⁵² In the last generations of the Republic, Mithridates was lauded by Greeks of the order of Metrodorus, Aesopus, Heracleides, and Teucrus. There was the notable Timagenes of Alexandria, first a client then an enemy of Augustus, who came to be branded an enemy of Rome in imperial Latin literature. Our previously discussed Alexander industry was displaying political connotations, causing Livy to fulminate against Greek rhetoricians who argued that Alexander would have defeated Rome, had he lived to campaign against the West. True, the cities and countrysides of the empire were not infested with cynics, but their agitating rule was at least partly fulfilled by the manufacturers of oracles in Greek hexameters, prophesying the downfall of Rome.

All this was explicable at a time when the Republic was deservedly unpopular in the East for its maladministration, when the Parthians seemed a better horse to back than they were to be in the second century, and then when the principate was new and by no means assured of a future. Lucian's world was entirely different. The principate was secure, Rome looked invulnerable; Greece and Greeks were much more favoured. There were Romanised Greeks as well as Hellenised Romans.

Philostratus is instructive as to the possible parameters of protest. The peerless tragic actor, Clemens of Byzantium, was denied crowns of victory in Rome during the siege of Byzantium, because it was deemed treasonable to reward a fellow-citizen of a current enemy of Rome.⁵³ Philostratus himself rebuked the Hellenised sophist of Rome, Claudius Aelian, for cowardice in that the latter had waited until Elagabalus was dead before composing an indictment of that emperor.⁵⁴ Both anecdotes postdate Lucian, it is true; the modern reader might think that Aelian's case is no different from that of, say, Tacitus, and he will award no particular palm for moral courage to Philostratus of Lemnos; but the stories are very pertinent to the general issue.

It was more expedient to be pro-poor than anti-Roman. Lucian's claims to be an anti-Roman Greek intellectual rest on the fragile foundations of the Nigrinus and the De Mercede Conductis. The former is a pendant to the Demonax, and has been taken as a riposte against Aristides.⁵⁵ In fact, Nigrinus' commonplaces have a universal application, and Lucian's writings at large show no tendency to elevate the Greeks above the norms of humanity. The inspiration for the De Mercede Conductis could have been either personal or literary. For once, lack of a precise date is a handicap to interpretation. Was it the production of an angry young man or an embittered old one?⁵⁶ Or inspired by Juvenal? If the latter, then the pamphlet is more a retort than an imitation. Lucian's basic point is that Greek intellectuals fare badly in the households of philistine Roman millionaires. But there is more to it than that. It emerges from the pamphlet that philosophers and poets do well in these households, whilst Lucian's Syrian compatriots are only butlers.⁵⁷ Nor should it be overlooked that the intellectuals in the Convivium are as gross as Roman vulgarians. Moreover, in the larger context, Greek intellectuals did very well out of the Romans in the second century. This is not to deny that the usual dichotomy of admiration for Greek culture and detestation of contemporary Greeks was present. Imperial patronage of intellectuals was constant, but tempered. Hadrian the "Graeculus" was immediately balanced by Antoninus the "Pius"; the latter epithet is designed to recall the solider virtues. It can be recalled from an earlier discussion that victory for Avidius Cassius in 175 would have been a disaster for the sophistic profession. Superficially, at least, the De Mercede Conductis strikes a note as jarring as that of Juvenal's outpourings when set aside the comfortable vignettes of Pliny. Nothing seems more likely than that Lucian's animadversions were inspired by an unfortunate experience at the hands of a Roman Lord Chesterfield; alternatively, that he had been displaced from favour by a composer of erotic ditties or a long-haired philosopher.

The second century displays amusing paradoxes. The throne was occupied for nearly 20 years by a stoic philosopher who was unlikely to display the impatience of a Flavian emperor with dissentient intellectuals. Yet jokes against philosophers, and violent condemnation too, were a commonplace of the age. The impatience of Hadrian and Antoninus with some of the breed has been noticed; Lucian's attitude is matched by Gellius and Appian. The caricature of the ranting long-haired tub thumper was well established as a common literary property.

The priorities of the satirist are a mixture of inconsistency and clarity. The Platonic eunuch, Favorinus, is balanced by the worthy Nigrinus; the unspeakable Peregrinus by the admirable Demonax. Diogenes and Menippus are suffused in an odour of sanctity; their contemporary disciples are branded as hypocritical and unkempt disturbers of decency and tranquillity. Lucian has the best of both worlds. His distinction between ancient and contemporary is sustained; the point is driven home in the Piscator.

Personal considerations are always to be looked for in assessing his comments. The intellectual preferences of Lucian are not easy to establish. The price list of the Vitarum Auctio is as follows: Pythagorean (ten minas); Cynic (two obols); Cyrenaic (unsold); Democritean and Heraclitean (both unsold); Academic (two talents); Epicurean (two minas); Stoic (twelve minas); Peripatetic (20 minas); Sceptic (one Attic mina). Is the auction an instructive guide, or pure fun?⁵⁸ Isidore of Pelusium thought Lucian a cynic; set aside the Cynicus as spurious, and the idea is left with little support. Epicurean sentiments can be inferred from the Alexander, but that sect profits in his pages from its hostility to the prophet, and the tastes of Celsus may be catered to beyond the point of sincerity.⁵⁹ It is palpable that he was not a platonist, peripatetic, or stoic; Sceptic might seem an obvious label, but it would be rash to detect any special reverence for Pyrrho.⁶⁰ The tediously important Hermotimus reaches the same conclusion as the Menippus: the life of the common man is best. A rhetorical conclusion? Certainly, as noted earlier, an illogical one for Lucian; he displays sympathy for the lot of the common man but would have hated to have been thought one.

It is dangerous to infer the beliefs of a satirist from his writings. Humour on the subject of philosophers was a marketable commodity, and Lucian was commercially-minded. The situation in the second century was akin to our own. There were thinkers and preachers in high places and low. Academic vested interests are as tight as any other; the "establishment" don is not, and was not, disposed to encouraging his long-haired detractors in the lower social levels. Photius was perhaps right in concluding that Lucian believed in nothing. However, his satire on philosophy is not always to be equated with his attacks on philosophers. It must be viewed in the same light as his literary satires. Personal animosity, sectarian in-fighting, and self-advertisement form a trinity never far away from Lucian's motivation. To conclude that he believed in nothing is open to question, but is not necessarily a disappointment. The position is intellectually respectable, and perhaps men who believe in nothing are more tolerant and less dangerous than the proselyte and the converted.

The matter may be summed up in general terms. If the phrase means anything, Lucian was typical of his age. His material ambitions are explicit: fame and fortune. The extent to which he achieved them is debatable. But we need not content ourselves with mourning the lack of precise evidence. The second century was a hard and competitive age for intellectuals. There was sharp competition for preferments, and comments on a rival's career and productions were far from tepid. A profession steeped in Demosthenes was not likely to be backward in invective. It is no longer necessary to spend time criticising the rosy Gibbonian view of the age. The century was healthily torn between a variety of literary, religious, and philosophical points of view. It was a time of competing orthodoxies, not at all slumbering under one rigid creed. The controversies of men of letters reflects the social unrest and cracking military security of the period. Graeco-Roman traditions were as subject to challenge as the American Dream.

It would have been surprising if such a climate had not produced one satirist. Lucian is not only a critic of his times; he is also a compliment to them. However, the label of satirist must not be attached too glibly. He was a versatile writer. Forensic eloquence, sophistic exercises, miniature biography, comic novels, and poetry were all attempted by him. His talents for slander and abuse were matched by many. Agnosticism and some concern for the poor put him above the tattier conventions. He was adaptable within those conventions, but they were also his basis. There is no need to pontificate on his virtues or dwell on his importance in subsequent European literature. The point is to distinguish contemporary conventions from the bugbear of Mimesis. Lucian was the first to admit that he based his key work on classical models, and was sensible enough to admit that the label of originality was not the holy grail. But his work is not a pallid pastiche of the classics of Greek literature. Virtually all that he wrote is relevant to, and was inspired by, his own age. Topicality and universalism are quite compatible; the former is based on the latter.

Notes

…²⁴ Why did Lucian select Menippus over Diogenes for his hero? Respect for another semi-Syrian? Since Lucian does not deny the inspiration of Menippus (Bis Accusatus 33), there is no need to follow Helm's plagiarism theories. Menippus is credited with a Sale of Diogenes, a necromantic piece, mock wills, mock letters from the gods, diatribes against mathematicians and grammarians, monographs on Epicurus and his followers, and other unspecified works.… The Menippan tradition in satirical literature may make the question appear superfluous. However, one wonders if Lucian sknew of Diogenes Laertius' tales about Menippus' usury; they rather tarnish the hero's integrity. Lucian clearly wanted to create a character to stick in his audience's minds along with his earthly Lycinus. The allusion to Menippus in Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, 6.47, may be a measure of his success.

²⁵ To give the requisite Herodotean flavour; and to give Arrian and the other relevant historiographers an object lesson in Ionic? For a detailed commentary on the Syrian goddess see the version of H. A. Strong and J. E. Garstang, 1913, and A. H. Harmon, Loeb Lucian, Vol. 5, pp. 338-411.

²⁶ Young, p. 49: "Not an erotic book at all, but a collection of comic anecdotes with a left-wing bias showing that whores are part of the oppressed proletariat but can get along all right if they know the ropes."

²⁷ M. Rostovtzeff, Social and Economic History of the Roman Empire, Oxford, 1957, p. 621, n. 45.

²⁸ J. Bompaire, Lucien érivain E Paris, 1958, p. 513, n. 1.

²⁹ B. Baldwin "Lucian as Social Satirist," Classical Quarterly 11, 1961, pp. 199-208.

³⁰ See G. W. Bowersock, Greek Sophists in the Roman Empire, Oxford, 1969, pp. 114-16; C. P. Jones, Plutarch and Rome, Oxford, 1971, pp. 122-30, especially pp. 128-9 for Lucian.

³¹ See especially numbers 1, 2, 4, 10, 13, 15, 20, 21, 25, 26, 27.

³²Dialogues 5-9.

³³Dial. 13.

³⁴Dial. 15.

³⁵Dial. 20.

³⁶Dial. 18.

³⁷Dial. 27.

³⁸Dial. 21; the joke is Lucian's.

³⁹ Cobblers were quite a commonplace in such literature; Myrtilus in the Deipnosophistae was the son of one.

⁴⁰Bis Accusatus 33.

⁴¹ 12-17.

⁴²Demonax 9.

⁴³ See Macleod, Loeb Lucian, Vol. 8, 1967, p. 379.

⁴⁴Peregrinus 19; HA, Pius 5.5 (a revolt in Egypt is also claimed; the HA also has Egyptian revolts under Hadrian and Marcus Aurelius).

⁴⁵ Lucian would have enjoyed the Christine Keeler-Profumo affair in England in 1963, which had a mysterious "Red" in that lady's crowded bed.

⁴⁶Oration 32.

⁴⁷ Philostratus, VS, p. 526.

⁴⁸ Philostratus, Life of Apollonius, 1.15; no mean feat for one who was obeying a vow of silence at the time!

⁴⁹ See Baldwin 1961 for references and discussion; also R. MacMullen, Enemies of the Roman Order, Harvard, 1966, passim.

⁵⁰ Dio, Orations 24 and 27; Plutarch, Political Precepts (on which see Jones, pp. 110-21.

⁵¹Menippus 21, where the life of the common man is said to be the best; the same sentiment is voiced at Hermotimus 86. Lucian's Mycillus would not have agreed!

⁵² For this see G. W. Bowersock, Augustus and the Greek World, Oxford, 1965, pp. 108-111.

⁵³VS, p. 616.

⁵⁴VS. p. 625.

⁵⁵ The chief exponent of Lucian's anti-Roman views is A. Peretti, Luciano: Un intelletuale greco contra Roma, Florence, 1946. See also A. N. Sherwin-White, Racial Prejudice in Imperial Rome, Cambridge, 1967, pp. 62-86. The connection with Aristides is denied by J. H. Oliver, The Ruling Power, Princeton, 1953, p. 892.

⁵⁶ Macleod, Loeb Lucian, Vol. 8, p. 320, thinks the piece is relatively late and reflects a decline in Lucian's fortunes. The point could only be settled if we could establish the date of Lucian's tenure in Egypt.

⁵⁷De Mercede Conductis 10 (Syrian butlers and Libyan nomenclatores), 27 (reciters of erotic ditties).

⁵⁸ This list reflects the order of appearance by the creeds. Pythagoras was an easy butt for Lucian, and followers such as Apollonius and Arignotus are roughly handled (Alexander 5; Philopseudes 29); for the contemporary nature of the theme see MacMullen, pp. 95-98, 100-14. Lucian did not have much to say about the pre-Socratic philosophers, although one imagines he found Xenophanes and Democritus (who is praised in Alexander 17) congenial.

⁵⁹ Epicurus is warmly praised in Alexander 17, 25, 61.… Epicurus is commonly introduced by Lucian in Menippan roles (Bis Accusatus 2; Jupiter Tragoedus 22), and Pro Lapsu Salutandi 6 refers to the diction of his letters. Individual Epicureans (notably Damis in Jupiter Tragoedus) are frequent in Lucian's pages.

⁶⁰ The Peripatetic Cleodemus is made to abuse Zeno and Cleanthes in Convivium 30; otherwise, Lucian has little to say about the founders of Stoicism. Comments on the sect and individual Stoics are very frequent. We would like to know what Marcus Aurelius thought about the satirist's treatment of the Stoics. The scepticism of Pyrrho, outside the Vitarum Auctio, is used for a light joke in Bis Accusatus 25 and Icaromenippus 25. In the gallery of philosophers in Dialogues of the Dead 20, Socrates gets on well with Menippus in spite (or because) of the latter's description of Plato as a flatterer of Sicilian tyrants. Alexander makes a similar criticism of Aristotle to the mocking Diogenes in Dialogues of the Dead 13. Lucian on Seneca would have been worth reading! However, the above passages are almost entirely comical, and it is hazardous to extract Lucian's serious opinions. I do not have the confidence of Eunapius in distinguishing the serious from the comic.