Hérodote et Lucien
The Historian and the Satirist
Herodotus and Lucian meet in the underworld, where Herodotus confronts Lucian for mocking his historical accounts as fables.
Herodotus. — Ah! Hello, my friend. You don't feel like laughing anymore, you who made so many famous men hold forth as you put them across Charon's boat. So you've come down in your turn to the banks of the Styx? You were right to make sport of tyrants, flatterers, and scoundrels; but of me! … Lucian. When did I ever make fun of you for that? You're picking a fight. Herodotus. — In your True History, and elsewhere, where you take my accounts for fables.1 Lucian. Was I wrong? How many things have you put forward on the word of priests, and of other people who always want mystery and the marvelous! Herodotus. You impious man! You didn't believe in the religion. Lucian. It would take a purer and more serious religion than that of Jupiter, Venus, Mars, Apollo, and the other gods to convince people of good sense. It’s too bad for you that you believed it.
The Critique of Virtue and Vice
The dialogue shifts to Lucian's broader disdain for philosophers and the gods, which Herodotus challenges as a lack of serious moral foundation.
Herodotus. But you didn't despise philosophy any less. Nothing was sacred to you. Lucian. I despised the gods because the poets portrayed them as the most dishonest people in the world. As for the philosophers, they pretended to value nothing but virtue, yet they were full of vices. If they had been philosophers in good faith, I would have respected them. Herodotus. And Socrates, how did you treat him? Is it his fault or yours? Speak. Lucian. It's true that I joked about the things he was accused of, but I didn't seriously condemn him. Herodotus. — Should one make sport of so great a man on the basis of crude slanders? But tell the truth: all you thought of was laughing, mocking everything, and finding something ridiculous in every matter, without taking the trouble to establish any of them solidly. Lucian. Hey! Haven't I spoken out against vice? Haven't I blasted the great who abuse their greatness? Haven't I raised to the heavens contempt for riches and pleasures? Herodotus. It's true that you spoke well of virtue, but only to criticize the vices of the entire human race; it was more a taste for satire than any real sense of solid philosophy. You even praised virtue without wanting to return to the principles of religion and philosophy that are its true foundations.
The Final Reconciliation of Shades
The two shades exchange final barbs about credulity and metempsychosis before Herodotus resigns himself to their shared fate in the afterlife.
Lucian. You reason better down here than you used to on your great travels. But let's agree. Well then! I wasn't credulous enough, and you were too credulous. Herodotus. Ah! There you are again, still yourself, turning everything into a joke. Isn't it time your shade had a little gravity? Lucian. — Gravity! I'm sick of it, having seen so much of it. I was surrounded by philosophers who prided themselves on it without good faith, justice, friendship, moderation, or any sense of shame. Herodotus. You're talking about the philosophers of your own time, who had degenerated; but… Lucian. So what did you want me to do? that I should have seen people who had been dead for several centuries before I was born? I had no memory at all of having been at the siege of Troy, the way Pythagoras had.2 Not everyone can have been Euphorbus.3 Herodotus. — More mockery. And there are your answers to the soundest arguments! As your punishment, I hope the gods you refused to believe in send you into the body of some traveler who journeys through all the countries I've told stories about that you treat as fables. Lucian. After that, all I'd have left would be to move from body to body through every school of philosophers I've denounced; that way, I'd hold every contradictory opinion I've mocked, one after another. That would be just lovely. But you've said things almost as believable. Herodotus. Go ahead, I give up on you. I take comfort in knowing I'm with Homer, Socrates, and Pythagoras—whom you spared no more than me—and finally with Plato, from whom you learned the art of dialogue, even though you mocked his philosophy.
Read the original Latin
Hérodote. — Ah ! bonjour, mon ami. Tu n’as plus envie de rire, toi qui as fait discourir tant d’hommes célèbres en leur faisant passer la barque de Charon. Te voilà donc descendu à ton tour sur les bords du Styx ? Tu avais raison de te jouer des tyrans, des flatteurs, des scélérats ; mais de moi ! …
Lucien. — Quand est-ce que je m’en suis moqué ? Tu cherches querelle.
Hérodote. — Dans ton histoire véritable, et ailleurs, où tu prends mes relations pour des fables.
Lucien. — Avais-je tort ? Combien as-tu avancé de choses sur la parole des prêtres, et des autres gens qui veulent toujours du mystère et du merveilleux !
Hérodote. — Impie ! tu ne croyais pas la religion.
Lucien. — Il fallait une religion plus pure et plus sérieuse que celle de Jupiter et de Vénus, de Mars, d’Apollon et des autres dieux, pour persuader les gens de bon sens. Tant pis pour toi de l’avoir crue.
Hérodote. — Mais tu ne méprisais pas moins la philosophie. Rien n’était sacré pour toi.
Lucien. — Je méprisais les dieux, parce que les poètes nous les dépeignaient comme les plus malhonnêtes gens du monde. Pour les philosophes, ils faisaient semblant de n’estimer que la vertu, et ils étaient pleins de vices. S’ils eussent été philosophes de bonne foi, je les aurais respectés.
Hérodote. — Et Socrate, comment l’as-tu traité ? Est-ce sa faute ou la tienne ? Parle.
Lucien. — Il est vrai que j’ai badiné sur les choses dont on l’accusait ; mais je ne l’ai pas condamné sérieusement.
Hérodote. — Faut-il se jouer aux dépens d’un si grand homme sur des calomnies grossières ? Mais, dis la vérité, tu ne songeais qu’à rire, qu’à te moquer de tout, qu’à montrer du ridicule en chaque chose, sans te mettre en peine d’en établir aucune solidement.
Lucien. — Hé ! n’ai-je pas gourmandé les vices ? n’ai-je pas foudroyé les grands qui abusent de leur grandeur ? N’ai-je pas élevé jusqu’au ciel le mépris des richesses et des délices ?
Hérodote. — Il est vrai que tu as bien parlé de la vertu, mais pour blâmer les vices de tout le genre humain : c’était plutôt un goût de satire qu’un sentiment de solide philosophie. Tu louais même la vertu sans vouloir remonter jusqu’aux principes de religion et de philosophie qui en sont les vrais fondements.
Lucien. — Tu raisonnes mieux ici-bas que tu ne faisais dans tes grands voyages. Mais accordons-nous. Eh bien ! je n’étais pas assez crédule, et tu l’étais trop.
Hérodote. — Ah ! te voilà encore toi-même, tournant tout en plaisanterie. Ne serait-il pas temps que ton ombre eût un peu de gravité ?
Lucien. — Gravité ! j’en suis las, à force d’en avoir vu. J’étais environné de philosophes qui s’en piquaient sans bonne foi, sans justice, sans amitié, sans modération, sans pudeur.
Hérodote. — Tu parles des philosophes de ton temps, qui avaient dégénéré ; mais…
Lucien. — Que voulais-tu donc que je fisse ? que j’eusse vu ceux qui étaient morts plusieurs siècles avant ma naissance ? Je ne me souvenais point d’avoir été au siège de Troie comme Pythagore. Tout le monde ne peut pas avoir été Euphorbe.
Hérodote. — Autre moquerie. Et voilà tes réponses aux plus solides raisonnements ! Je souhaite, pour ta punition, que les dieux que tu n’as pas voulu croire t’envoient dans le corps de quelque voyageur qui aille dans tous les pays dont j’ai raconté des choses que tu traites de fabuleuses.
Lucien. — Après cela, il ne me manquerait plus que de passer de corps en corps dans toutes les sectes de philosophes que j’ai décriées : par là je serais tour à tour de toutes les opinions contraires dont je me suis moqué. Cela serait bien joli. Mais tu as dit des choses à peu près aussi croyables.
Hérodote. — Va, je t’abandonne, et je me console quand je songe que je suis avec Homère, Socrate, Pythagore, que tu n’as pas épargnés plus que moi ; enfin avec Platon, de qui tu as appris l’art des dialogues, quoique tu te sois moqué de sa philosophie.
Notes
- 1 ↩histoire véritable names Lucian's satirical Vera Historia (True History / A True Story); kept as a title-like proper name rather than a generic 'true history'.
- 2 ↩Alludes to Pythagoras's claim of metempsychosis: he said he remembered fighting at Troy in a previous life as Euphorbus.
- 3 ↩Euphorbus: Trojan warrior; Pythagoras claimed to have been him in a former life.
Dialogues des morts, composés pour l'éducation de Mgr le Duc de Bourgogne companion
Rule yourself daily, not just on retreat
Chosen Portion turns the mirror into a daily practice — a short reading and examining question each morning before you lead anyone.
Chosen Portion makes the mirror daily: the ruler-formation questions this collection preserves become a two-minute morning examination in the app.
- A daily formation reading drawn from centuries of counsel to those in authority
- One pointed examination question a day — two minutes, before the meetings start
- Track your practice over weeks and watch the examined life become a habit