¹ Numerous articles have been written arguing about the identity of the institution, the course of its closure, and the extent of activities prohibited. The school has been called the Platonic Academy by Cameron, Alan, ‘The last days of the Academy at Athens’, Proceedings Cambridge Philological Society 195 (1969), 7–29,Google Scholar an identification echoed by P. Chuvin, A Chronicle of the Last Pagans (trans. B. A. Archer) (1990), 135–9. This notion has been called into question by J. P. Lynch, Aristotle's School (1972), 184–8; J. Glucker, Antiochus and the Late Academy (1978), 322f.; and Blumenthal, H. J., ‘529 and its sequel: What happened to the Academy’, Byzantion 48 (1978), 369–85Google Scholar. Reasons for the closure also vary. For a description of the divergent scholarly attitudes see, G. Hällström, ‘The closing of the Neoplatonic School in AD 529: an additional aspect’, in P. Castrén (ed.), Post-Herulian Athens (1994), 141–60. As for implications, Fernández, G., ‘Justinano y la clausura de la escuela de Atenas’, Erytheia II.2 (1983), 24–30,Google Scholar sees none, while A. Gerostergios, Justinian the Great, the Emperor and Saint (1982), 72–3, connects the closing with the bankruptcy of the institution. Against all evidence, T. Whittaker, The Neoplatonists (1918), 182, takes the extreme position that this action prohibited the teaching of all philosophy in the Empire.

² John Malalas, Chronicle 18.47 (all references to Malalas follow the textual divisions of the edition of I. Thurn, Ioannis Malalae Chronographia (2000)). The Malalas passage will be discussed in more detail below. The Chronicon Paschale and the Chronicle of John of Nikiu both derive much of their sixth-century material from Malalas. Later Byzantine authors such as Theophanes, Zonaras, Cedrenus, and Constantine Porphyrogenitus also relied heavily upon Malalas. None of these sources mentions the closing, but their silence does not reflect a lack of interest in philosophy. All of the texts copy Malalas 16.16, an account of the Athenian philosopher Proclus and his efforts to protect the emperor Anastasius from a usurper. Proclus had died nearly twenty years before the purported event, but his representation as a saviour of Constantinople indicates Malalas' generally favourable attitude towards philosophers. Equally positive paraphrases of this erroneous account are found in Chronicon Paschale 611.5, John of Nikiu 89.78–84, Zonaras 138.1, Theophanes 164.6, Cedrenus 1.636.5, and Constantine Porphyrogenitus, de insidiis 169.32.

³ This was distinct from the apparently informal activities of Iamblichus, the grandson of Sopater and Nestorius. For this Iamblichus, see Cameron, Alan, ‘Iamblichus at Athens’, Athenaeum 45 (1967), 143–53Google Scholar. On Nestorius, see Watts, E., City and School in Late Antique Athens and Alexandria, unpub. thesis Yale University (2002), 137–41Google Scholar.

⁴ Three surviving inscriptions (SEG 31.246 and IG II/III² 3818 and 4224) commemorate Plutarch's financial support for Athenian religious and civic causes. The most notable of these (IG II/III² 4224) marks his donation of a statue of the praetorian prefect Herculius. For objections to a link between the philosopher and the Plutarch mentioned in IG II/III² 3818 and 4224 see E. Sironen, ‘Life and administration of late Roman Attica in light of public inscriptions’, in P. Castrén (ed.), Post-Herulian Athens (1994), 46–51, and L. Robert, Épigrammes du bas empire (Hellenica IV) (1948), 91–4. Against them see Watts, op. cit. (n. 3), 153–7; Fowden, G., ‘The Athenian Agora and the progress of Christianity’, JRA 3 (1990), 499Google Scholar and ‘The pagan holy man in late antique society’, JHS 102 (1982), 51,Google Scholar n. 147; A. Frantz, The Athenian Agora in Late Antiquity (1988), 64–5; and Blumenthal, op. cit. (n. 1), 373.

⁵ Students are attested from Lycia and Syria, but the largest concentration seems to have come from Egypt. For this see E. Watts, ‘Student travel to intellectual centers: What was the attraction?’ in L. Ellis and F. Kidner (eds), Travel, Communication and Geography in Late Antiquity (2004), 11–21.

⁶ For the rise of the Athenian Christian community in the fifth century A.D. see A. Karivieri, ‘The “Library of Hadrian” and the Tetraconch Church’, in P. Castrén (ed.), Post-Herulian Athens (1994), 89–115; and Fowden, op. cit. (n. 4), 497–9. In addition see, Skontzos, L. K., ‘Η παλαιοχριστιανική Βασιλική του Ιλσσού’, Αρχαιολογία 29 (1988), 50,Google Scholar for a basilica beside the Ilissus river that may date from this period. For a survey of Christian tombstones from the period, see E. Sironen, The Late Roman and Early Byzantine Inscriptions of Athens and Attica (1997), 119–271. The Athenian school counteracted this rising Christian influence by using local aristocrats like Archiades (Vit. Proc. 14), Rufinus (Vit. Proc. 23), and Theagenes (Vit. Proc. 29; Phil. Hist. fr. 100A) for political support. As Fowden, op. cit. (n. 4), 497, has noted, Athens was not alone among cities where pagan aristocrats supported thriving civic institutions well into Late Antiquity. See, for example, C. Roueché, Aphrodisias in Late Antiquity: the Late Roman and Byzantine Inscriptions (1989) on Aphrodisias; C. Lepelley, Les cités de l'Afrique romaine au Bas-Empire (1979–81), 1.357–69; and J. H. W. G. Liebeschuetz, Decline and Fall of the Late Roman City (2001), 263–7.

⁷ Hinted at by Aeneas of Gaza, Theophrastus (ed. Colonna), 4–8, and Damascius, Phil. Hist. fr. 151E. See also, Watts, op. cit. (n. 3), 199–218; P. Athanassiadi, The Philosophical History (1999), 43–5, and Cameron, op. cit. (n. 1), 27.

⁸ By the later part of his life, Proclus had attracted a number of pagan honorati as supporters of the school. These came both from Athens (e.g. Theagenes) and other cities like Aphrodisias (e.g. Asclepiodotus, the man to whom his Commentary on the Parmenides is dedicated). This was a significant move that reflected contemporary political conditions (for which, see Liebeschuetz, op. cit. (n. 6), 104–24) and helped widen the school's supporters beyond the circle of Athenian councillors. Nevertheless, a series of succession contests at the end of Proclus' life and following the death of Marinus, his successor, likely drove many of these honorati away (on these struggles see Watts, op. cit. (n. 3), 186–208). Consequently, while honorati figure prominently in discussions of the late fifth-century A.D. Athenian school, such supporters are largely absent from sixth-century sources.

⁹ ‘From these actions scandal arose in the city and he attracted angry hatred and was plotted against both by those who longed for the abundant possessions, of which he was the master, and by some of the men who established the laws’ (Phil. Hist. fr. 145B). Damascius' extreme bias against Hegias is worth noting here, but there can be little doubt that Hegias' activities were troublesome to many. The men who establish the laws are probably provincial authorities.

¹⁰ Athanassiadi, op. cit. (n. 7), 43; following Combès, J., Damascius, traité des premiers principes I (1986), xix, xxxviGoogle Scholar.

¹¹ This becomes clear in Damascius' commentary on Plato's Parmenides and his monograph on the argument from opposites found in the Phaedo. The Parmenides commentary forms the second part of the manuscript that contains On First Principles. The monograph is found within the commentary on the Phaedo (1.207–52 in the edition of L. G. Westerink, Commentaries on Plato's Phaedo, Vol. II (1977)). Damascius was especially diligent about examining Proclus' flawed interpretations of Iamblichus. For more detail on this issue see Athanassiadi, P., ‘The oecumenism of Iamblichus: latent knowledge and its awakening’, JRS 85 (1995), 247,Google Scholar and Saffrey, H. D., ‘Neoplatonic spirituality II: from Iamblichus to Proclus and Damascius’, in A. H. Armstrong (ed.), Classical Mediterranean Spirituality: Egyptian, Greek, Roman (1986), 264Google Scholar.

¹² A commentary on Aristotle's Meteorology certainly existed and others on On Categories and On the Heavens may have been published.

¹³ Commentaries on the Parmenides, Phaedo, and Philebus are extant. Others on the Republic, Phaedrus, Sophist, Timaeus, and Laws are mentioned elsewhere in Damascius' writings. For these see Combés, op. cit. (n. 10), xxxiv.

¹⁴ Damascius, In Parmenidem (ed. C. A. Ruelle, 1889) 9.21–2, 11.11–5, 13.9–10.

¹⁵ In two of his works, the Philosophical History and the Paradoxa, Damascius' interest in divination and other paranormal subjects is explored. In addition to its descriptions of the character of various intellectuals, the Philosophical History contains vivid accounts of pagan religious sites, miraculous events, and strange divination practices. The Paradoxa (known only from Photius, Bibliotheke, cod. 130) described extraordinary actions, marvels relating to the gods, the appearances of the souls of the dead, and miscellaneous unnatural phenomena. Though the text itself is completely lost, the religious implications of these stories are clear from Photius' review: ‘In all of this work there are only impossible, unbelievable, ill-conceived marvels and folly as are truly worthy of the godlessness and impiety of Damascius who slept beneath deep shadows as the light of piety filled the world’ (Bib. 130.97a).

¹⁶ L. G. Westerink (ed.), Prolégomènes à la philosophie de Platon (1990), xv.

¹⁷ Philoponus, , Commentary on the Meteorologia (ed. Hayduck, M., CAG XIV.1, 1901) 44.21–36;Google Scholar 97.10–1; 116.36–117.31. See also Combés, op. cit. (n. 10), xxxix–xl.

¹⁸ The Syrians are Theodora (to whom the Philosophical History is dedicated) and her sister. The others are the philosophers that Agathias (2.29–31) mentions as having journeyed to Persia with Damascius in A.D. 531.

¹⁹ R. Rothaus' recent discussion of religious change in Corinth (Corinth: The First City of Greece (2000), 93–104) demonstrates the influence of the Achaean Christian community in the sixth century A.D.

²⁰ This was due to Anastasius' abolition of city councils in the first decade of the sixth century A.D. In place of councils, provincial assemblies were given control of local affairs. A. H. M. Jones, Later Roman Empire (1964), 751–2, discusses the problematic evidence for this change. The law marking this transition has been lost, but an Anastasian law of A.D. 505, CJ 1.55.11, preserves one element of this new system. Roueché, C., ‘The functions of the governor in late antiquity’, Antiquité Tardive 6 (1998), 35–6,CrossRefGoogle Scholar provides a comprehensive discussion of this law and its implications for civic governance. It is similarly difficult to date the change. John Lydus' memories of the curiales who walked around cities in his youth (Mag. 1.28) and Evagrius' note that this change occurred under Anastasius (HE 3.42) are the closest one can come. As Liebeschuetz, op. cit. (n. 6), 106–9, has recently demonstrated, the councils continued to bear certain heavy financial burdens in the cities long after they had lost governing responsibility.

²¹ Vit. Proc. 15.

²² Hegias' troubles are described above.

²³ (Malalas, Chronicle 18.47; this text is based upon the emendation explained below).

²⁴ The Greek is κόττος, with the LSJ definition of ‘dice’. While ‘dice’ is certainly one meaning of κόττος, the word is rare and its meaning is not entirely clear. In Malalas and the Codex Justinianus the word clearly has ‘dice’ as its primary meaning. Hesychius, another sixth-century A.D. source, seems to connect the word with birds in a way reminiscent of augury. He preserves an otherwise unattested term that he defines as ‘to observe carefully or religiously a certain bird’. For reasons that will be discussed below, in this passage of Malalas, it seems that one should understand κόττος as both dice and an instrument of augury. Perhaps an acceptable translation is ‘dice being used to cast lots’.

²⁵ L. Dindorf, Ioannis Malalae Chronographia. Accedunt Chilmeadi Hodiique Annotationes et Ric. Bentleii Epistola ad Io. Millium (1831).

²⁶ νόμιμα as opposed to .

²⁷ After the fine work of the Australian Malalas scholars, the problematic nature of the text has become clearer. See, for example, B. Croke, ‘The development of a critical text’, in E. Jeffreys et al., Studies in John Malalas (1990), 311–38.

²⁸ This is in a Vatican manuscript of the text. Apparently independent of historical concerns, the reading of has been accepted by I. Thurn in his new critical edition of Malalas (op. cit. (n. 2)). R. Scott, ‘Malalas and Justinian's codification’, E. Jeffreys et al. (eds), Byzantine Papers (1981), 21–2, knew of the Vatican manuscript and still preferred the Oxford reading based upon his assumption that an Athenian law school existed. As Scott confesses, there is little evidence to support such an idea.

²⁹ The position of astronomy in Athenian philosophical teaching under Proclus is well described by Neugebauer, O., A History of Mathematical Astronomy, Vol. 2 (1975), 1031–7Google Scholar. The writings of Marinus, which date from the later A.D. 480s, show that this interest continued under Proclus' successors. Extant sixth-century A.D. astronomical publications derive mainly from Alexandria (Neugebauer, 1037–51), but Damascius himself was trained in the discipline (Photius, Bibliotheke 181.127a8). While he questions the utility of conventional astronomy, Damascius does accept the art when it is practised in an immaterial way (In Phileb. 225.20). It also seems that Damascius passed some of this training on to his students. Simplicius' astronomical explanations for the beginnings of the year (In Phys. 875.19–22) show an interest in the field among Damascius' followers.

³⁰ Contrary to Scott, op. cit. (n. 28), 21–2, Malalas' notice that the Digest was sent to Athens and Beirut upon completion (18.38) should not be thought to indicate the presence of an Athenian law school. Beyond this ambiguous notice, there is no other evidence to suggest that a school of Roman law ever functioned in Athens. This silence is significant because, relatively speaking, Athenian intellectual life in the period from c. A.D. 100 until c. A.D. 520 is well documented. The absence of any mention of Athenian legal teaching strongly suggests that such teaching did not occur.

³¹ For example, Hällström, op. cit. (n. 1), 157–60.

³² See Bury, J. B., ‘The Nika riot’, JHS 17 (1897), 92–119,CrossRefGoogle Scholar esp. 95–106. Despite its age, Bury's work is remarkable for the clarity with which it demonstrates the various ways Malalas' original text has been abbreviated and the manner in which one can begin to reconstruct the original.

³³ Among those doing so are Croke, op. cit. (n. 27), 202 n. 19 and Hällström, op. cit. (n. 1), 144–5.

³⁴ The significance of this syntactical unity becomes even clearer when one compares it to Malalas 18.20, a passage in which a series of different laws are described. These laws are introduced as νόμους and further distinguished from one another by a δὲ … καὶ construction that precedes each new mention. A similar, though less clear, division is seen in 18.67. The construction is paralleled in two other passages of Malalas (12.36; 16.14), each of which unifies different elements of one piece of legislation.

³⁵ The structural similarities between the legal notices in Malalas were first noticed by Scott, op. cit. (n. 28), 12–31, and elaborated upon in Scott, R., ‘Malalas, the secret history and Justinian's propaganda’, DOP 39 (1985), 99–110Google Scholar.

³⁶ The eleven references are Chronicle 17.18; 18.11, 18, 20 (a summary of four laws), 38, 42, 47, 64, 67, 78, 142. Among the summaries of known laws are Malalas 18.11 (a summary of CJ 1.3.41) and 18.67 (an apparent summary of a larger law from which CJ 3.2.4–5 are excerpts). The best example of this phenomenon is Malalas 18.78. The epitomized text preserves the heading of the law, and the instructions for its public posting. The Chronicon Paschale, quoting from a more complete version of Malalas than our manuscript tradition preserves, records these details and provides a complete text of the law (CP 630–3). This leaves open the possibility that each of Malalas' Justinianic legal notices originally included the full text of the legislation. These may then have been abbreviated by subsequent epitomators.

³⁷ The Philosophical History celebrates a woman who arrived at a method of divining the future and interpreting dreams from cloud patterns (Phil. Hist. fr. 52). Despite Damascius' denial of the connection of divination to philosophy (Phil. Hist. fr. 88A), it certainly remained a topic that was discussed in detail at his school.

³⁸ As evidenced by the horoscope of Proclus that closes his biography (Vit. Proc. 35). For a discussion of this horoscope see L. Siorvanes, Proclus: Neoplatonic Philosophy and Science (1996), 26–7, and O. Neugebauer and H. B. van Hoesen, Greek Horoscopes (1959), 135–6. Proclan ideas on astrology are found in his Commentary on the Republic (ed. W. Kroll, 1899–1901), ii.318; 344.22–3.

³⁹ For the use of dice oracles in antiquity see W. Hansen, ‘Fortune telling’, in W. Hansen (ed.), An Anthology of Ancient Greek Popular Literature (1998), 285–91; R. Lane Fox, Pagans and Christians (1986), 209–10; and the more extensive treatment of C. Naour, Tyriaion en Cabalide (1980), 22–37. Additional epigraphic evidence for the practice has been found in Pamphylia, Pisidia, and Lycia. Pausanias 7.25.6 describes the mechanics of such oracles.

⁴⁰ The manuscript was edited by Dold, A., ‘Die Orakelsprüche im St. Galler Palimpsestcodex 908’, Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften 225.4 (1948)Google Scholar. I thank Peter Brown for this reference. This text may also contain fragments of a Roman prototype. For examples of divination by dice in the later medieval West see Kraemer, E., ‘Le jeu d'amour: jeu d'aventure du moyen âge’, Commentationes Humanarum Litterarum 54 (1975), 1–66Google Scholar.

⁴¹ On the Sortes Sanctorum, see the exciting contribution of Klingshirn, W., ‘Defining the Sortes Sanctorum: Gibbon, Du Cange, and early Christian lot divination’, Journal of Early Christian Studies 10 (2002), 77–130CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

⁴² On these similarities, see Klingshirn, op. cit. (n. 41), 94–8. For an eastern version of Christianized numerological oracles, see Browne, G. M., Sortes Astrampsychi, vol. 1, ecdosis prior (1983)Google Scholar.

⁴³ For more on this see Kraemer, op. cit. (n. 40), 5–7. The game could also be used to explain dreams. Its existence is attested as far back as the fifteenth century.

⁴⁴ I thank an anonymous reader for this suggestion.

⁴⁵ Justinian's gambling law of A.D. 529 is CJ 3.43.1. This Latin law (part of which is repeated in Greek as CJ 1.4.25) placed restrictions upon the types of dice games that could be played in Constantinople and limited the amounts that could be bet. While blasphemy is mentioned as a consequence of the excessive bets placed in these games, it is clearly not the problem that this law is trying to solve. On this point, see, however, Beaucamp, J., ‘Le philosophe et le joueur. La date de la fermeture de l'école d'Athènes’, Mélanges Gilbert Dagron, Travaux et Mémoires 14 (2002), 21–35Google Scholar.

⁴⁶ Procopius, Secret History 11.37. They are who are . Procopius does, however, differ from Malalas in saying that the astrologers were flogged before being placed upon the camels. Parading religious deviants was not an uncommon practice in the late Roman world (cf. Socrates Scholasticus 3.3 on George the Cappadocian), but, judging by Procopius' tone, it appears to have been a relatively rare event in Constantinople.

⁴⁷ In the Chronicle, the term used to describe the legislation. While his legal vocabulary varies, Malalas seems only to use Πρόσταξις (at 7.12, 12.33, 18.18, 18.78) to refer to an imperial (or, in the case of 7.12, an anachronistically described royal) constitution. In addition, with the exception of 12.33, each of these constitutions had general applicability.

⁴⁸ Most often, the statement would come from a praetorian prefect, but its source could also be provincial governors, bishops, or even a simple report of an event. On this see J. Harries, ‘The background to the code’, in J. Harries and I. Wood (eds), The Theodosian Code (1993), 8–12; T. Honoré, Law in the Crisis of Empire (1998), 133–5.

⁴⁹ This process is mandated by CJ 1.14.8. For modern discussions, see Harries, op. cit. (n. 48), 9; T. Honoré, ‘Some quaestors of the reign of Theodosius II’, in J. Harries and I. Wood (eds), The Theodosian Code (1993), 74, and op. cit. (n. 48), 133–5.

⁵⁰ A feature noted by Honoré, op. cit. (n. 48), 135 and Harries, J., ‘The Roman imperial quaestor from Constantine to Theodosius II’, JRS 78 (1988), 163Google Scholar.

⁵¹ Harries, op. cit. (n. 50), 163, perceptively notes the distinction between such regional variations and illegal tampering with the divine words of the emperor (‘they were allowed to tamper with the text in minor ways, the most significant of which was the inclusion of extra provisions addressed to selected recipients’). For the limit on this see J. Matthews, ‘The making of the text’, in J. Harries and I. Wood (eds), The Theodosian Code (1993), 28 and Honoré, op. cit. (n. 48), 135.

⁵² Sirm. 6, CTh 16.2.47, 16.5.62, and 16.5.64 are all taken from different regional variations of the same law.

⁵³ A detailed description of these regional differences is found in J. Matthews, Laying Down the Law (2000), 155–60. See also, Harries, op. cit. (n. 50), 163. For the Sirmondians in general see M. Vessey, ‘The origins of the Collectio Sirmondiana: a new look at the evidence’, in J. Harries and I. Wood (eds), The Theodosian Code (1993), 187–99.

⁵⁴ While rare, some communications from provincial governors to civic administrators do appear in the Theodosian Code (e.g. CTh 7.13.11). On this process, see Matthews, op. cit. (n. 51), 27.

⁵⁵ This process of final dissemination and local action was, of course, often problematic. For this see S. Mitchell, ‘Maximinus and the Christians’, JRS 78 (1988), 113 (for local enforcement of Christian persecution), 116 (regarding local officials' lack of enthusiasm for such enforcement).

⁵⁶ HE 9.1.2–7. Letters sent to governors assigned them ‘the task of writing to logistai, strategoi, and those who had the charge of the pagi of each city to … implement the policy’ (9.1.6). These letters were then sent and actions taken in accordance with their terms because it was thought that the emperor really intended such things to be done (, HE 9.1.7).

⁵⁷ Admittedly, some of Maximinus' actions in A.D. 312 were exceptional and the product of political concerns specific to him (cf. Mitchell, op. cit. (n. 55), 116), but these particular orders followed the standard path along which imperial pronouncements were communicated to local government officials.

⁵⁸ Malalas 18.47. The causal relationship between this event and the legislation is clear from the preceding the discussion of these blasphemies. In this case, as was common in cases of disorder in Constantinople, the suggestio was probably forwarded by the urban prefect. Earlier parallels of such legislation are CTh 16.2.37 and 16.4.4–6 (legislation issued in response to urban rioting following the deposition of John Chrysostom; on this see, Harries, op. cit. (n. 48), 11). It is worth noting that general laws about religious concerns were usually issued at the suggestion of clergy (Honoré, op. cit. (n. 48), 133). In this case, however, the fact that Malalas locates the offending act in Constantinople seems to indicate that this was a different type of concern. Law produced in this way often had implications for only Constantinople (e.g. CTh 16.4.4), but it could also be phrased so as to have a wider applicability (e.g. CTh 16.4.6).

⁵⁹ A set of fourth-century laws about these subjects remained valid in A.D. 529; they were quite comprehensive in their prohibitions, including a prohibition on teaching astrology and divination. A law of Constantius had forbidden the consultation of astrologers, diviners, and soothsayers. Another law, issued by Valentinian and Valens, had established penalties for those who taught such skills. These two laws are CTh 9.16.4 and 8. Both were affirmed by Justinian, the first as CJ 9.18.5 and the second as CJ9.18.8.

⁶⁰ As Malalas himself seems to indicate when he explains that a law containing both the general prohibition of dicing and the restriction of teaching was sent specifically ‘to Athens’. Croke, op. cit. (n. 27), 201–2, advances the notion that Malalas' recollection of these laws was based upon copies on file at the office of the Comes Orientis. This is probable for some of the laws Malalas mentions (e.g. 18.67, which describes a law on sportulae that was posted in Antioch), but it seems that Malalas had an Athenian source for legal texts as well. On two occasions (18.38 and 18.47), Malalas mentions a legal text framed by Justinian for general distribution, and then indicates that a related (yet distinct) version of this material was sent to Athens. In 18.38, the material was sent to Beirut as well. This strongly suggests that Malalas had access to at least some specifically Athenian versions of Justinianic legal materials.

⁶¹ These earlier prohibitions would be CTh 9.16.4 and 8.

⁶² For examples of such communication found in the texts of existing laws, see above.

⁶³ Because Athens was not a provincial capital, it is unlikely that any law would reach the city without first passing through the governor's court in Corinth.

⁶⁴ It is worth noting that the regional variations produced by such texts would usually have been obscured by the emphasis upon generalitas in the creation of the CTh and CJ. The concept of generalitas is defined in CJ 1.14.3 and described by Matthews, op. cit. (n. 53), 16–8, 65–70, and op. cit. (n. 51), 25–6; as well as Honoré, op. cit. (n. 48), 128–32.

⁶⁵ Harries, op. cit. (n. 48), 15.

⁶⁶ The activities of the inner circle would have been largely hidden from others in the city. Vit. Proc. 11 captures this attitude most vividly. Indications of the nature of the inner circle are found throughout the Life of Proclus and the Philosophical History. For the special studies of inner circle students see Vit. Proc. 20, 27. Their unique style of dress is described in Phil. Hist. fr. 59 B. Phil. Hist. fr. 59 F contains a humorous account of a student acting up during an inner circle meeting.

⁶⁷ The necessity of active student recruitment appears to have been recognized quite early in the history of the institution. Resentment of Plutarch's recruitment efforts seems to lie beneath Synesius' famous remark about the ‘pair of Plutarchan sophists who draw the young to their lecture room not by the repute of their learning but by jars (of honey) from Hymettus’ (Ep. 136). The identification of these teachers with the Athenian Neoplatonic school has been made by Fowden, op. cit. (n. 4), 500, as well as by Alan Cameron and J. Long, Barbarians and Politics at the Court of Arcadius (1993), 409–11. Recruitment to Athenian rhetorical schools was even more aggressive (e.g. Libanius, Or 1.15–7; Eunapius, VS 485–7).

⁶⁸ The need to find a successor from within the inner circle of students is revealed in the succession struggles of the A.D. 480s. On these, see Phil. Hist. fr. 98 A–F.

⁶⁹ The CJ contains eleven laws on this subject, nine of which come from the Theodosian Code. None of these date from after A.D. 409.

⁷⁰ See above for Malalas and Procopius as sources for Justinian's feelings about divination and astrology.

⁷¹ Croke, op. cit. (n. 27), 202, catalogues a number of Justinianic laws described by Malalas but not included in the CJ.

⁷² On this see Honoré, op. cit. (n. 48), 134 and CTh 11.30.60.

⁷³ C. Haec 2 (13 February A.D. 528). See also, Honoré, op. cit. (n. 48), 131.

⁷⁴ Another factor that possibly contributed to its disappearance was a tendency on the part of fifth- and sixth-century emperors to leave decisions about what constituted acceptable and unacceptable divination subject to ecclesiastical and not imperial regulation (on which, see M. T. Fögen, ‘Balsamon on magic’, in H. Maguire (ed.), Byzantine Magic (1995), 103–5). The repeated conciliar prohibitions of the use of the Sortes Sanctorum show continued ecclesiastical concern for the restriction of dice divination in the West throughout the late antique and early medieval periods (on this, see Klingshirn, op. cit. (n. 41), 84–90). In the East, the survival of numerological oracles that invoke saints shows the continued popularity of basic divination among Christians (cf. Browne, op. cit. (n. 42)). Further, the Life of Severus (57–65, 70–4) suggests that divination activities were concerns of ecclesiastical and not governmental bodies by the later fifth century A.D. Later, the regulation of divination is the subject of canon 61 of the Council in Trullo. In the high Byzantine period, Balsamon's commentary on this canon shows the continued appeal of such activities. In both West and East, their regulation remains an ecclesiastical and not secular concern. This means that Justinian's law may have simply reiterated the terms of this existing legislation in order to provide a legal basis for the punishment of those who had clearly violated its terms. Such a decree would have punished some clear offenders, while leaving the more ambiguous cases subject to ecclesiastical review. It also may not have merited inclusion in the Codex Justinianus.

⁷⁵ This is the probable meaning of δημοσίος σιτήσις.

⁷⁶ A point first made by Cameron, op. cit. (n. 1), 8.

⁷⁷ Olympiodorus was a student of Proclus' student Ammonius Hermeiou. On the personal ties between the Alexandrian and Athenian schools see Vinzent, M., ‘Oxbridge in der ausgehenden Spätantike: oder ein Vergleich der Schulen von Athen und Alexandrien’, Zeitschrift für Antikes Christentum 4 (2000), 49–82CrossRefGoogle Scholar. The doctrinal similarities between the schools have been explored by, among others, Westerink, op. cit. (n. 16), vii–lix.

⁷⁸ An agreement to eliminate some of the more controversial elements of Alexandrian Neoplatonic teaching was reached following a riot and judicial inquiry in A.D. 487 or 488. On these events, see Watts, op. cit. (n. 3), 386–407. The actual terms of the agreement are somewhat mysterious. For discussion of the agreement see R. Sorabji, ‘The ancient commentators on Aristotle’, in R. Sorabji (ed.), Aristotle Transformed (1990), 12; and R. Sorabji, ‘Divine names and sordid deals in Ammonius' Alexandria’ (forthcoming).

⁷⁹ The opposition to Olympiodorus evidently came from a group of Christians called the philoponoi. Their appeal appears not to have been actively supported, partially because, in the late A.D. 520s and early 530s, the Alexandrian Christian Church was preoccupied with the intellectual conflict between Severus of Antioch and Julian of Halicarnassus. For more on each of these issues, see Watts, op. cit. (n. 3), 410–50.

⁸⁰ Olympiodorus gave a set of public lectures on the Isagoge of Paulus of Alexandria from May to August of A.D. 564 and another on Aristotle's Meteorology in Alexandria in March/April A.D. 565. The later date is based upon the reference to a comet that was visible in Alexandria during those two months (Neugebauer, op. cit. (n. 29), 1043–5).

⁸¹ Even the emperor Julian's education law (which presumably tried to be explicit in its aims) required some detailed explanation about how it was to be enforced. Libanius (Or. 16.47), for example, suggests that Julian's law may have been understood by some as legislation designed to prevent Christians from learning as well as teaching. Julian's Ep. 42 seems to have been an attempt to explain his intentions better. For this see, Matthews, op. cit. (n. 53), 274–7 and Banchich, T., ‘Julian's school laws: Cod. Theod. 13.3.5 and Ep. 42’, The Ancient World 24 (1993), 5–14,Google Scholar esp. 12–13. Earlier difficulties had concerned professorial eligibility for liturgical immunities (e.g. Nutton, V., ‘Two notes on immunities: Digest 27,1,6,10 and 11’, JRS 61 (1971), 52–63)Google Scholar.

⁸² The contention of F. Trombley, Hellenic Religion and Christianization (1993–94), 81–2, that these laws were issued by Zeno following the revolt of Illus is unconvincing.

⁸³ CJ 1.11.10.7.

⁸⁴ CJ 1.5.18 also lacks a date, but it is the fifth undated law following a law of A.D. 527. It immediately precedes a law of A.D. 529 addressed to the praetorian prefect Demosthenes. Because Demosthenes assumed office in October, a date of early to mid-A.D. 529 for the earlier law is probable. In an entry describing events of A.D. 529, Malalas (18.42) records legislation passed against pagans and heretics that bears strong similarities to some of the terms of this law.

⁸⁵ It would make sense that pagans would be so targeted. Fortified by familial wealth, many pagans remained entrenched in important local positions. These laws may represent an attempt to disperse this local influence through the elimination of positions that pagans could hold and the restriction of their ability to pass on personal property. As events in Asia Minor in the A.D. 540s, Baalbec in the 570s, and Harran in the 580s would show, prominent people remained pagan long after these restrictions of the A.D. 520s. For the anti-pagan activities directed against prominent people in these cities and elsewhere, see Liebeschuetz, op. cit. (n. 6), 262, and Trombley, op. cit. (n. 82), 170–9.

⁸⁶ The next large persecution mentioned by sources does not occur until A.D. 545/6 and was supposedly instigated by John of Ephesus. On this see Liebeschuetz, op. cit. (n. 6), 242.

⁸⁷ This is against Jones, op. cit. (n. 20), 285, where they are dated to A.D. 529. Chuvin, op. cit. (n. 1), 136 n. 14, posits an unspecified date that is later than A.D. 529. Liebeschuetz, op. cit. (n. 6), 242, simply gives the laws an early Justinianic date.

⁸⁸ Cameron, op. cit. (n. 1), 18. Zeller, E., Philosophic der Griechen in ihrer geschichtlichen Entwicklung dargestellt (1876–1889), vol. iii.2, 916Google Scholar n. 3, sees Damascius as a possible author of the account used as a source by Agathias. Averil Cameron, Agathias (1970), 101–2, thinks it more likely that Simplicius is Agathias' source.

⁸⁹ Agathia s 2.30.3–4.

⁹⁰ A point first made by Cameron, op. cit. (n. 1), 13.

⁹¹ I. Hadot, Simplicius: commentaire sur le manuel d'Épictéte (1996), 12, argues that Agathias makes no attempt to attribute the trip to a desire to see Chosroes. This ignores both Agathias' explicit statement to the contrary and the function of the account within his text. Agathias includes this account to show the inability of Chosroes to differentiate between true philosophers like Damascius and charlatans like Uranius. For this idea see Cameron, op. cit. (n. 88), 101–2. On Uranius, see Walker, J., ‘The limits of late antiquity: philosophy between Rome and Iran’, The Ancient World 33 (2002), 45–69Google Scholar.

⁹² Within his own kingdom, Chosroes sponsored a translation programme through which Greek philosophical texts were translated into Persian (see D. Gutas, Greek Thought, Arabic Culture (1998), 25–7). As Agathias notes (2.31.3), Romans too were aware of Chosroes' philosophical pretensions. They were not seen as wholly ridiculous, however. Priscian, one of Damascius' disciples, thought enough of his encounters with the king to record them (or, at least, a plausible facsimile of them). This text, Solutiones eorum de quibus dubitavit Chosroes Persarum rex, has been preserved in a Latin translation (ed. F. Dübner in Plotini Enneades (1885), 545–79).

⁹³ The anti-pagan legislation of A.D. 529 resulted almost immediately in a purge of pagans from the Court and Constantinopolitan society (Malalas 18.42). The only man known to have appealed successfully was Phocas, a future praetorian prefect, who is called ‘pious’ and ‘charitable’ by John Lydus (De Mag. 3.73–6). It is likely then that his appeal consisted simply of providing evidence of his Christian piety (a tactic that was, of course, not possible for Damascius). The actions in A.D. 545/6 were much more farreaching, but still relatively fast in coming to a conclusion (on this see Liebeschuetz, op. cit. (n. 6), 242–3). It is worth noting that Phocas was implicated in this persecution as well.

⁹⁴ In the Philosophical History, he wrote: ‘Nothing human is worth as much as a clear conscience. A man should… never give great importance to anything other than Truth — not the danger of an impending struggle nor a difficult task from which one turns away in fear’ (Phil. Hist. 146B, following the evocative translation of Athanassiadi).

⁹⁵ Among the many he praises are Hierocles (Phil. Hist. 45B), Horapollo and Heraiscus (Phil. Hist. 117C), and Julian (Phil. Hist. 119J).

⁹⁶ In this earlier persecution, Damascius and others were initially willing to wait for circumstances to change (Phil. Hist. 126B). It quickly became apparent that this would not happen (Phil. Hist. 126C–E) and then Damascius chose exile over any form of cooperation. For details on these circumstances, see Watts, op. cit. (n. 3), 390–410; C. Haas, Alexandria in Late Antiquity (1997), 323–30; and Athanassiadi, P., ‘Persecution and response in late paganism’, JHS 113 (1993), 1–29,CrossRefGoogle Scholar as well as op. cit. (n. 7), 24–33.

⁹⁷ Damascius saw those who came to terms with the leaders of that persecution as ‘shamefully greedy and looking at everything in terms of profit’ (Phil. Hist. 118B).

⁹⁸ The comments of Simplicius about the philosopher's duty to flee from a corrupt state (In Epict. 65.29–35) further suggest that exile was not a last resort of the desperately oppressed, but among the preferred responses to restrictions such as those put in place by CJ 1.11.9 and 10. It may well have been decided upon quite quickly and undertaken without much delay.

⁹⁹ Olympiodorus implies (In Alc. 140–1) that Athenian teachers were never particularly diligent in collecting fees. By contrast, the school did benefit greatly from bequests (Phil. Hist. fr. 102).

¹⁰⁰ CJ 1.11.9.1.

¹⁰¹ CJ 1.11.10.3.

¹⁰² See Frantz, op. cit. (n. 4), 88–9, for the house and the date of its abandonment. For a more detailed discussion of the site see, Shear, T. L., ‘The Athenian Agora: excavations of 1971’, Hesperia 42 (1973), 156–64Google Scholar.

¹⁰³ Frantz, op. cit. (n. 4), 88, sees the redecoration as ‘a transition (of the house) to Christian use of an official character’ because the nymphaeum had been converted into a baptistery.

¹⁰⁴ The link was initially proposed by Frantz, A. (‘Pagan philosophers in Christian Athens’, Proceedings American Philosophical Society 119 (1975), 36Google Scholarf. and, later, op. cit. (n. 4), 44–7). Recently Athanassiadi, op. cit. (n. 7), 343–7, has suggested the link of House C., the largest of the Areopagus houses, with Damascius. As she admits, this is a ‘necessarily speculative theory’.

¹⁰⁵ Writing in the A.D. 560s, Olympiodorus (In Alc. 140–1) seems to indicate that the school's property was touched by Justinianic confiscations (see also Blumenthal, op. cit. (n. 1), 370; Glucker, op. cit. (n. 1), 323–5; and Cameron, op. cit. (n. 1), 9–11). As J. Harries, Law and Empire (1998), 95–6, notes, bishops were often the enforcers when laws like CJ 1.11.10 were implemented.

¹⁰⁶ Athens has been suggested as their eventual destination by Cameron, op. cit. (n. 1), 22–3. The Syrian city of Harran is the choice of Tardieu, M., ‘Sabiens Coraniques et “Sabiens” de Harran’, Journal Asiatique 274 (1986), 1–44CrossRefGoogle Scholar and Les paysages reliques. Routes et haltes syriennes d'Isidore à Simplicius, Bibliothéque de l'École des Hautes Études, Sciences Religieuses, 94 (1990)Google Scholar. Against Tardieu, see C. Luna, review of Thiel, R., Simplikios und das Ende der neuplatonischen Schule in A then in Mnemosyne 54 (2001), 482–504;Google Scholar J. Lameer, ‘From Alexandria to Baghdad: reflections on the genesis of a problematic tradition’, in G. Endress and R. Kruk (eds), The Ancient Tradition in Christian and Islamic Hellenism (1997), 181–91; and, on an aspect of his argument, Gutas, D., ‘Plato's Symposium in the Arabic tradition’, Oriens 31 (1988), 44,CrossRefGoogle Scholar n. 34. The earlier idea of an Alexandrian stay is no longer given any weight.

¹⁰⁷ If Alan Cameron, op. cit. (n. 1), 16–17, is right to place the composition of Simplicius' Commentary on the Encheiridion in the years A.D. 529–31, Simplicius' statements (In Ench. Epict. 65.37–66.36) about the proper activities of philosophers living in a corrupt state may indicate the state of mind of the community at this time. Against Cameron, see Hadot, op. cit. (n. 91), 8–20.