Theosophy - Apollonius of Tyana - The Philosopher Explorer and Social Reformer of the
First Century A.D. by G.R.S.Mead
APOLLONIUS
OF TYANA
The
Philosopher Explorer and
Social
Reformer of the First Century AD
By
G.R.S. Mead
1901
Edition
SECTION
I - Introductory
To
the student of the origins of Christianity there is naturally no period in Western
history of greater interest and importance than the first century of our era;
and yet how little comparatively is known about it of a really definite and
reliable nature. If it be a subject of lasting regret that no non-Christian
writer of the first century had sufficient intuition of the future to record
even a line of information concerning the birth and growth of what was to be
the religion of the Western world, equally disappointing is it to find so little
definite information of the general social and religious conditions of the time.
The rulers and the wars of the Empire seem to have formed the chief interest
of the historiographers of the succeeding century, and even in this department
of political history, though the public acts of the Emperors may be fairly well
known, for we can check them by records and inscriptions, when we come to their
private acts and motives we find ourselves no longer on the ground of history,
but for the most part in the atmosphere of prejudice, scandal, and speculation.
The political acts of Emperors and their officers, however can at best throw
but a dim side-light on the general social conditions of the time, while they
shed no light at all on the religious conditions, except so far as these in
any particular contacted the domain of politics. As well might we seek to reconstruct
a picture of the religious life of the time from Imperial acts and rescripts,
as endeavour to glean any idea of the intimate religion of this country from
a perusal of statute books or reports of Parliamentary debates.
The Roman histories so-called, to which we have so far been accustomed, cannot help us
in the reconstruction of a picture of the environment into which, on the one hand, Paul led
the new faith in Asia Minor, Greece, and Rome; and in which, on the other, it already found
itself in the districts bordering on the south-east of the Mediterranean. It is only by piecing
together labouriously isolated scraps of information and fragments of inscriptions, that we
become aware of the existence of the life of a world of religious associations and private
cults which existed at this period. Not that even so we have any very direct information of
what went on in these associations, guilds, and brotherhoods; but we have sufficient
evidence to make us keenly regret the absence of further knowledge.
Difficult
as this field is to till, it is exceedingly fertile in interest, and it is to
be regretted that comparatively so little work has as yet been done in it; and
that, as is so frequently the case, the work which has been done is, for the
most part, not accessible to the English reader. What work has been done on
this special subject may be seen from the bibliographical note appended to this
essay, in which is given a list of books and articles treating of the religious
associations among the Greeks and Romans. But if we seek to obtain a general
view of the condition of religious affairs in the first century we find ourselves
without a reliable guide; for of works dealing with this particular subject
there are few, and from them we learn little that does not immediately concern,
or is thought to concern, Christianity; whereas, it is just the state of the
non-Christian religious world about which, in the present case, we desire to
be informed.
If, for instance, the reader turn to works of general history, such as Merivale’s History of
the Romans under the Empire (London; last ed. 1865), he will find, it is true, in chap iv., a
description of the state of religion up to the death of Nero, but he will be little wiser for
perusing it. If he turn to Hermann Schiller’s Geschichte der römischen Kaiserreichs unter
der Regierung des Nero (Berlin; 1872), he will find much reason for discarding the vulgar
opinions about the monstrous crimes imputed to Nero, as indeed he might do by reading
in English G H. Lewes’ article “Was Nero a Monster?” (Cornhill Magazine; July 1863)—and
he will also find (bk IV chap III.) a general view of the religion and philosophy of the time
which is far more intelligent than that of Merivale’s; but all is still very vague and
unsatisfactory, and we feel ourselves still outside the intimate life of the philosophers and
religionists of the first century.
If, again, he turn to the latest writers of Church history who have treated this particular
question, he will find that they are occupied entirely with the contact of the Christian Church
with the Roman Empire, and only incidentally give us any information of the nature of which
we are in search. On this special ground C J. Neumann, in his careful study Der römische
Staat und die allgemeine Kirche bis auf Diocletian (Leipzig; 1890), is interesting; while Prof
W M. Ramsay, in The Church in the Roman Empire before A.D. 170 (London; 1893), is
extraordinary, for he endeavours to interpret Roman history by the New Testament
documents, the dates of the majority of which are so hotly disputed.
But, you may say, what has all this to do with Apollonius of Tyana? The answer is simple:
Apollonius lived in the first century; his work lay precisely among these religious
associations, colleges and guilds. A knowledge of them and their nature would give us the
natural environment of a great part of his life; and information as to their condition in the
first century would perhaps help us the better to understand some of the reasons for the
task which he attempted.
If, however, it were only the life and endeavours of Apollonius which would be illuminated
by this knowledge, we could understand why so little effort has been spent in this direction;
for the character of the Tyanean, as we shall see, has since the fourth century been
regarded with little favour even by the few, while the many have been taught to look upon
our philosopher not only as a charlatan, but even as an anti-Christ. But when it is just a
knowledge of these religious associations and orders which would throw a flood of light on
the earliest evolution of Christianity, not only with regard to the Pauline communities, but
also with regard to those schools which were subsequently condemned as heretical, it is
astonishing that we have no more satisfactory work done on the subject.
It may be said, however, that this information is not forthcoming simply because it is
unprocurable. To a large extent this is true; nevertheless, a great deal more could be done
than has yet been attempted, and the results of research in special directions and in the
byways of history could be combined, so that the non-specialist could obtain some general
idea of the religious conditions of the times, and so be less inclined to join in the now
stereotyped condemnation of all non-Jewish or non-Christian moral and religious effort in
the Roman Empire of the first century.
But the reader may retort: Things social and religious in those days must have been in a
very parlous state, for, as this essay shows, Apollonius himself spent the major part of his
life in trying to reform the institutions and cults of the Empire. To this we answer: No doubt
there was much to reform, and when is there not? But it would not only be not generous,
but distinctly mischievous for us to judge our fellows of those days solely by the lofty
standard of an ideal morality, or even to scale them against the weight of our own
supposed virtues and knowledge. Our point is not that there was nothing to reform, far from
that, but that the wholesale accusations of depravity brought against the times will not bear
impartial investigation. On the contrary, there was much good material ready to be worked
up in many ways, and if there has not been, how could there among other things have
been any Christianity?
The Roman Empire was at the zenith of its power, and had there not been many admirable
administrators and men of worth in the governing caste, such a political consummation
could never have been reached and maintained. Moreover, as ever previously in the
ancient world, religious liberty was guaranteed, and where we find persecution, as in the
reigns of Nero and Domitian, it must be set down to political and not to theological reasons.
Setting aside the disputed question of the persecution of the Christians under Domitian,
the Neronian persecution was directed against those whom the Imperial power regarded
as Jewish political revolutionaries. So, too, when we find the philosophers imprisoned or
banished from Rome during those two reigns, it was not because they were philosophers,
but because the ideal of some of them was the restoration of the Republic, and this
rendered them obnoxious to the charge not only of being political malcontents, but also of
actively plotting against the Emperor’s majestas. Apollonius, however, was throughout a
warm supporter of monarchical rule. When, then, we hear of the philosophers being
banished from Rome or being cast into prison, we must remember that this was not a
wholesale persecution of philosophy throughout the Empire; and when we say that some
of them desired to restore the Republic, we should remember that the vast majority of them
refrained from politics, and especially was this the case with the disciples of the religio-philosophical schools.
SECTION
II - The
Religious Associations and Communities of
the First Century
In the domain of religion it is quite true that the state cults and national institutions
throughout the Empire were almost without exception in a parlous state, and it is to be
noticed that Apollonius devoted much time and labour to reviving and purifying them.
Indeed, their strength had long left the general state-institutions of religion, where all was
now perfunctory; but so far from there being no religious life in the land, in proportion as
the official cultus and ancestral institutions afforded no real satisfaction to their religious
needs, the more earnestly did the people devote themselves to private cults, and eagerly
baptised themselves in all that flood of religious enthusiasm which flowed in with ever
increasing volume from the East. Indubitably in all this fermentation there were many
excesses, according to our present notions of religious decorum, and also grievous
abuses; but at the same time in it many found due satisfaction for their religious emotions,
and, if we except those cults which were distinctly vicious, we have to a large extent before
us in popular circles the spectacle of what, in their last analysis, are similar phenomena to
those enthusiasms which in our own day may be frequently witnessed among such sects
as the Shakers and Ranters, and at the general revival meetings of the uninstructed.
It is not, however, to be thought that the private cults and the doings of the religious
associations were all of this nature or confined to this class; far from it. There were
religious brotherhoods, communities and clubs— thiasi, erani, and orgeônes—of all sorts
and conditions. There were also mutual benefit societies, burial clubs, and dining
companies, the prototypes of our present-day Masonic bodies, Oddfellows, and the rest.
These religious associations were not only private in the sense that they were not
maintained by the State, but also for the most part they were private in the sense that what
they did was kept secret, and this is perhaps the main reason why we have so defective
a record of them.
Among them are to be numbered not only the lower forms of mystery-cultus of various
kinds, but also the greater ones, such as the Phrygian, Bacchic, Isiac, and Mithriac
Mysteries, which were spread everywhere throughout the Empire. The famous Eleusinia
were, however, still under the ægis of the State, but though so famous were, as a state-cultus, far more perfunctory.
It is, moreover, not to be thought that the great types of mystery-cultus above mentioned
were uniform even among themselves. There were not only various degrees and grades
within them, but also in all probability many forms of each line of tradition, good, bad, and
indifferent. For instance, we know that it was considered de rigueur for every respectable
citizen of Athens to be initiated into the Eleusinia, and therefore the tests could not have
been very stringent; whereas in the most recent work on the subject, De Apuleio Isiacorum
Mysteriorum Teste (Leyden; 1900), Dr K H E. De Jong shows that in one form of the Isiac
Mysteries the candidate was invited to initiation by means of dream; that is to say, he had
to be psychically impressionable before his acceptance.
Here, then, we have a vast intermediate ground for religious exercise between the most
popular and undisciplined forms of private cults and the highest forms, which could only
be approached through the discipline and training of the philosophic life. The higher side
of these mystery-institutions aroused the enthusiasm of all that was best in antiquity, and
unstinted praise was given to one or another form of them by the greatest thinkers and
writers of Greece and Rome; so that we cannot but think that here the instructed found that
satisfaction for their religious needs which was necessary not only for those who could not
rise into the keen air of pure reason, but also for those who had climbed so high upon the
heights of reason that they could catch a glimpse of the other side. The official cults were
notoriously unable to give them this satisfaction, and were only tolerated by the instructed
as an aid for the people and a means of preserving the traditional life of the city or state.
By
common consent the most virtuous livers of Greece were the members of the Pythagorean
schools, both men and women. After the death of their founder the Pythagoreans
seem to have gradually blended with the Orphic communities and the “Orphic
life” was the recognised term for a life of purity and self-denial. We
also know that the Orphics, and therefore the Pythagoreans, were actively engaged
in the reformation, or even the entire reforming, of the Baccho-Eleusinian rites;
they seem to have brought back the pure side of the Bacchic cult with their
reinstitution or reimportation of the Bacchic mysteries, and it is very evident
that such stern livers and deep thinkers could not have been contented with
a low form of cult. Their influence also spread far and wide in general Bacchic
circles, so that we find Euripides putting the following words into the mouth
of the chorus of Bacchic initiates: “Clad in white robes I speed me from
the genesis of mortal men, and never more approach the vase of death, for I
have done with eating food that ever housed a soul.” [From a fragment
of The Cretans. See Lobeck’s Aglaophamus p 622.] Such words could well
be put into the mouth of a Brâhman or Buddhist ascetic, eager to escape
the bonds of Samsâra; and such men cannot therefore justly be classed
together indiscriminately with ribald revelers -- the general mind-picture of
a Bacchic company.
But, some one may say, Euripides and the Pythagoreans and Orphics are no evidence for
the first century; whatever good there may have been in such schools and communities,
it had ceased long before. On the contrary, the evidence is all against this objection. Philo,
writing about 25 A.D., tells us that in his day numerous groups of men, who in all respects
led this life of religion, who abandoned their property, retired from the world and devoted
themselves entirely to the search for wisdom and the cultivation of virtue, were scattered
far and wide throughout the world. In his treatise, On the Contemplative Life, he writes:
“This natural class of men is to be found in many parts of the inhabited world, both the
Grecian and non-Grecian world, sharing in the perfect good. In Egypt there are crowds of
them in every province, or nome as they call it, and especially round Alexandria.” This is
a most important statement, for if there were so many devoted to the religious life at this
time, it follows that the age was not one of unmixed depravity.
It is not, however, to be thought that these communities were all of an exactly similar
nature, or of one and the same origin, least of all that they were all Therapeut or Essene.
We have only to remember the various lines of descent of the doctrines held by
innumerable schools classed together as Gnostic, as sketched in my recent work,
Fragments of a Faith Forgotten, and to turn to the beautiful treatises of the Hermetic
schools, to persuade us that in the first century the striving after the religious and
philosophic life was wide-spread and various.
We are not, however, among those who believe that the origin of the Therapeut
communities of Philo and of the Essenes of Philo and Josephus is to be traced to Orphic
and Pythagorean influence. The question of precise origin is as yet beyond the power of
historical research, and we are not of those who would exaggerate one element of the
mass into a universal source. But when we remember the existence of all these so widely
scattered communities in the first century, when we study the imperfect but important
record of the very numerous schools and brotherhoods of a like nature which came into
intimate contact with Christianity in its origins, we cannot but feel that there was the leaven
of a strong religious life working in many parts of the Empire.
Our great difficulty is that these communities, brotherhoods, and associations kept
themselves apart, and with rare exceptions left no records of their intimate practices and
beliefs, or if they left any it has been destroyed or lost. For the most part then we have to
rely upon general indications of a very superficial character. But this imperfect record is no
justification for us to deny or ignore their existence and the intensity of their endeavours;
and a history which purports to paint a picture of the times is utterly insufficient so long as
it omits this most vital subject from its canvas.
Among such surroundings as these Apollonius moved; but how little does his biographer
seem to have been aware of the fact! Philostratus has a rhetorician’s appreciation of a
philosophical court life, but no feeling for the life of religion. It is only indirectly that the Life
of Apollonius, as it is now depicted, can throw any light on these most interesting
communities, but even an occasional side-light is precious where all is in such obscurity.
Were it but possible to enter into the living memory of Apollonius, and see with his eyes
the things he saw when he lived nineteen hundred years ago, what an enormously
interesting page of the world’s history could be recovered! He not only traversed all the
countries where the new faith was taking root, but he lived for years in most of them, and
was intimately acquainted with numbers of mystic communities in Egypt, Arabia, and Syria.
Surely he must have visited some of the earliest Christian communities as well, must even
have conversed with some of the “disciples of the Lord”! And yet no word is breathed of
this, not one single scrap of information on these points do we glean from what is recorded
of him. Surely he must have met with Paul, if not elsewhere, then at Rome, in 66, when he
had to leave because of the edict of banishment against the philosophers, the very year
according to some when Paul was beheaded!
SECTION
III - India
and Greece
THERE
is, however, another reason why Apollonius is of importance to us. He was an
enthusiastic admirer of the wisdom of India. Here again a subject of wide interest
opens up. What influences, if any, had Brâhmanism and Buddhism on Western
thought in these early years? It is strongly asserted by some that they had
great influence; it is as strongly denied by others that they had any influence
at all. It is, therefore, apparent that there is no really indisputable evidence
on the subject.
Just as some would ascribe the constitution of the Essene and Therapeut communities to
Pythagorean influence, so others would ascribe their origin to Buddhist propaganda; and
not only would they trace this influence in the Essene tenets and practices, but they would
even refer the general teaching of the Christ to a Buddhist source in a Jewish monotheistic
setting. Not only so, but some would have it that two centuries before the direct general
contact of Greece with India, brought about by the conquests of Alexander, India through
Pythagoras strongly and lastingly influenced all subsequent Greek thought.
The question can certainly not be settled by hasty affirmation or denial; it requires not only
a wise knowledge of general history and a minute study of scattered and imperfect
indications of thought and practice, but also a fine appreciation of the correct value of
indirect evidence, for of direct testimony there is none of a really decisive nature. To such
high qualifications we can make no pretension, and our highest ambition is simply to give
a few very general indications of the nature of the subject.
It is plainly asserted by the ancient Greeks that Pythagoras went to India, but as the
statement is made by Neo-Pythagorean and Neo-Platonic writers subsequent to the time
of Apollonius, it is objected that the travels of the Tyanean suggested not only this item in
the biography of the great Samian but several others, or even that Apollonius himself in his
Life of Pythagoras was father of the rumour. The close resemblance, however, between
many of the features of Pythagorean discipline and doctrine and Indo-Aryan thought and
practice, make us hesitate entirely to reject the possibility of Pythagoras having visited
ancient Âryâvarta.
And even if we cannot go so far as to entertain the possibility of direct personal contact,
there has to be taken into consideration the fact that Pherecydes, the master of
Pythagoras, may have been acquainted with some of the main ideas of Vaidic lore.
Pherecydes taught at Ephesus, but was himself most probably a Persian, and it is quite
credible that a learned Asiatic, teaching a mystic philosophy and basing his doctrine upon
the idea of rebirth, may have had some indirect, if not direct, knowledge of Indo-Aryan
thought.
Persia must have been even at this time in close contact with India, for about the date of
the death of Pythagoras, in the reign of Dareius, son of Hystaspes, at the end of the sixth
and beginning of the fifth century before our era, we hear of the expedition of the Persian
general Scylax down the Indus, and learn from Herodotus that in this reign India (that is the
Punjâb) formed the twentieth satrapy of the Persian monarchy. Moreover, Indian troops
were among the hosts of Xerxes; they invaded Thessaly and fought at Platæa.
From the time of Alexander onwards there was direct and constant contact between
Âryâvarta and the kingdoms of the successors of the world-conqueror, and many Greeks
wrote about this land of mystery; but in all that has come down to us we look in vain for
anything but the vaguest indications of what the “philosophers” of India systematically
thought.
That the Brâhmans would at this time have permitted their sacred books to be read by the
Yavanas (Ionians, the general name for Greeks in Indian records) is contrary to all we
know of their history. The Yavanas were Mlechchhas, outside the pale of the Ãryas, and
all they could glean of the jealously guarded Brahmâ-vidyâ or theosophy must have
depended solely upon outside observation. But the dominant religious activity at this time
in India was Buddhist, and it is to this protest against the rigid distinctions of case and race
made by Brâhmanical pride, and to the startling novelty of an enthusiastic religious
propaganda among all classes and races in India, and outside India to all nations, that we
must look for the most direct contact of thought between India and Greece.
For instance, in the middle of the third century B.C., we know from Asoka’s thirteenth edict,
that this Buddhist Emperor of India, the Constantine of the East, sent missionaries to
Antiochus II of Syria, Ptolemy II of Egypt, Antigonus Gonatas of Macedonia, Magas of
Cyrene, and Alexander II of Epirus. When, in a land of such imperfect records, the
evidence on the side of India is so clear and indubitable, all the more extraordinary is it that
we have no direct testimony on our side of so great a missionary activity. Although, then,
merely because of the absence of all direct information from Greek sources, it is very
unsafe to generalize, nevertheless from our general knowledge of the times it is not
illegitimate to conclude that no great public stir could have been made by these pioneers
of the Dharma in the West. In every probability these Buddhist Bhikshus produced no
effect on the rulers or on the people. But was their mission entirely abortive; and did
Buddhist missionary enterprise westwards cease with them?
The answer to this question, as it seems to us, is hidden in the obscurity of the religious
communities. We cannot, however, go so far as to agree with those who would cut the
gordian knot by asserting dogmatically that the ascetic communities in Syria and Egypt
were founded by these Buddhist propagandists. Already even in Greece itself were not
only Pythagorean but even prior to them Orphic communities, for even on this ground we
believe that Pythagoras rather developed what he found already existing, than that he
established something entirely new. And if they were found in Greece, much more than is
it reasonable to suppose that such communities already existed in Syria, Arabia, and
Egypt, whose populations were given far more to religious exercises than the sceptical and
laughter-loving Greeks.
It is, however, credible that in such communities, if anywhere, Buddhist propaganda would
find an appreciative and attentive audience; but even so it is remarkable that they have left
no distinctly direct trace of their influence. Nevertheless, both by the sea way and by the
great caravan route there was an ever open line of communication between India and the
Empire of the successors of Alexander; and it is even permissible to speculate, that if we
could recover a catalogue of the great Alexandrian library, for instance, we should
perchance find that in it Indian MSS were to be found among the other rolls and
parchments of the scriptures of the nations.
Indeed,
there are phrases in the oldest treatises of the Trismegistic Hermetic literature
which can be so closely paralleled with phrases in the Upanishads and in the
Bhagavad Gîtâ, that one is almost tempted to believe that the writers
had some acquaintance with the general contents of these Brâhmanical scriptures.
The Trismegistic literature had its genesis in Egypt, and its earliest deposit
must be dated at least in the first century A.D., if it cannot even be pushed
back earlier. Even more striking is the similarity between the lofty mystic
metaphysic of the Gnostic doctor Basilides, who lived at the end of the first
and beginning of the second century A.D., and Vedântic ideas. Moreover,
both the Hermetic and the Basilidean schools and their immediate predecessors
were devoted to a stern self-discipline and deep philosophical study which would
make them welcome eagerly any philosopher or mystic student who might come from
the far East.
But even so, we are not of those who by their own self-imposed limitations of possibility are
condemned to find some direct physical contact to account for a similarity of ideas or even
of phrasing. Granting, for instance, that there is much resemblance between the teachings
of the Dharma of the Buddha and of the Gospel of the Christ, and that the same spirit of
love and gentleness pervades them both, still there is no necessity to look for the reason
of this resemblance to purely physical transmission. And so for other schools and other
teachers; like conditions will produce similar phenomena; like effort and like aspiration will
produce similar ideas, similar experience, and similar response. And this we believe to be
the case in no general way, but that it is all very definitely ordered from within by the
servants of the real guardians of things religious in this world.
We
are, then, not compelled to lay so much stress on the question of physical transmission,
or to be seeking even to find proof of copying. The human mind in its various
degrees is much the same in all climes and ages, and its inner experience has
a common ground into which seed may be sown, as it is tilled and cleared of
weeds. The good seed comes all from the same granary, and those who sow it pay
no attention to the man-made outer distinctions of race and creed.
However difficult, therefore, it may be to prove, from unquestionably historical statements,
any direct influence of Indian thought on the conceptions and practices of some of these
religious communities and philosophic schools of the Græco-Roman Empire, and although
in any particular case similarity of ideas need not necessarily be assigned to direct physical
transmission, nevertheless the highest probability, if not the greatest assurance, remains
that even prior to the days of Apollonius there was some private knowledge in Greece of
the general ideas of the Vedânta and Dharma; while in the case of Apollonius himself,
even if we discount nine-tenths of what is related of him, his one idea seems to have been
to spread abroad among the religious brotherhoods and institutions of the Empire some
portion of the wisdom which he brought back with him from India.
When, then, we find at the end of the first and during the first half of the second century,
among such mystic associations as the Hermetic and Gnostic schools, ideas which
strongly remind us of the theosophy of the Upanishads or the reasoned ethics of the
Suttas, we have always to take into consideration not only the high probability of Apollonius
having visited such schools, but also the possibility of his having discoursed at length
therein on the Indian wisdom. Not only so, but the memory of his influence may have
lingered for long in such circles, for do we not find Plotinus, the coryphæus of Neo-Platonism, as it is called, so enamoured with what he had heard of the wisdom of India at
Alexandria, that in 242 he started off with the ill-starred expedition of Gordian to the East
in the hope of reaching that land of philosophy? With the failure of the expedition and
assassination of the Emperor, however, he had to return, for ever disappointed of his hope.
It is not, however, to be thought that Apollonius set out to make a propaganda of Indian
philosophy in the same way that the ordinary missionary sets forth to preach his conception
of the Gospel. By no means; Apollonius seems to have endeavoured to help his hearers,
whoever they might be, in the way best suited to each of them. He did not begin by telling
them that what they believed was utterly false and soul-destroying, and that their eternal
welfare depended upon their instantly adopting his own special scheme of salvation; he
simply endeavoured to purge and further explain what they already believed and practised.
That some strong power supported him in his ceaseless activity, and in his almost world-wide task, is not so difficult of belief; and it is a question of deep interest for those who
strive to peer through the mists of appearance, to speculate how that not only a Paul but
also an Apollonius was aided and directed in his task from within.
The day, however, has not yet dawned when it will be possible for the general mind in the
West to approach the question with such freedom from prejudice, as to bear the thought
that, seen from within, not only Paul but also Apollonius may well have been a “disciple of
the Lord” in the true sense of the words; and that too although on the surface of things their
tasks seem in many ways so dissimilar, and even, to theological preconceptions, entirely
antagonistic.
Fortunately, however, even today there is an ever growing number of thinking people who
will not only be shocked by such a belief, but who will receive it with joy as the herald of the
dawning of a true sun of righteousness, which will do more to illumine the manifold ways
of the religion of our common humanity than all the self-righteousness of any particular
body of exclusive religionists.
It is, then, in this atmosphere of charity and tolerance that we would ask the reader to
approach the consideration of Apollonius and his doings, and not only the life and deeds
of an Apollonius, but also of all those who have striven to help their fellows the world over.
SECTION
IV - The
Apollonius of Early Opinion
APOLLONIUS
of Tyana [Pronounced Týâna, with the accent on the first syllable
and the first a short.] was the most famous philosopher of the Græco-Roman
world of the first century, and devoted the major part of his long life to the
purification of the many cults of the Empire and to the instruction of the ministers
and priests of its religions. With the exception of the Christ no more interesting
personage appears upon the stage of Western history in these early years. Many
and various and oft-times mutually contradictory are the opinions which have
been held about Apollonius, for the account of his life which has come down
to us is in the guise of a romantic story rather than in the form of a plain
history. And this is perhaps to some extent to be expected, for Apollonius,
besides his public teaching, had a life apart, a life into which even his favourite
disciple does not enter. He journeys into the most distant lands, and is lost
to the world for years; he enters the shrines of the most sacred temples and
the inner circles of the most exclusive communities, and what he says or does
therein remains a mystery, or serves only as an opportunity for the weaving
of some fantastic story by those who did not understand.
The following study will be simply an attempt to put before the reader a brief sketch of the
problem which the records and traditions of the life of the famous Tyanean present; but
before we deal with the Life of Apollonius, written by Flavius Philostratus at the beginning
of the third century, we must give the reader a brief account of the references to Apollonius
among the classical writers and the Church Fathers, and a short sketch of the literature of
the subject in more recent times, and of the varying fortunes of the war of opinion
concerning his life in the last four centuries.
First,
then, with regard to the references in classical and patristic authors. Lucian,
the witty writer of the first half of the second century, makes the subject
of one of his satires the pupil of a disciple of Apollonius, of one of those
who were acquainted with “all the tragedy” [Alexander sive Pseudomantis,
vi.] of his life. And Appuleius, a contemporary of Lucian, classes Apollonius
with Moses and Zoroaster, and other famous Magi of antiquity. [De Magia, xc
(ed Hildebrand, 1842, ii 614.)
About the same period, in a work entitled Quæstiones et Responsiones ad Orthodoxos,
formerly attributed to Justin Martyr, who flourished in the second quarter of the second
century, we find the following interesting statement:
“Question
24: If God is the maker and master of creation, how do the consecrated objects
[τελεσματα. Telesma was “a
consecrated object, turned by the Arabs into telsam (talisman)” ;
see Liddell and Scott’s Lexicon, sub voc.] of Apollonius have power in the
[various] orders of that creation? For, as we see, they check the fury
of the waves and the power of the winds and the inroads of vermin and attacks
of wild beasts.” ‡ [Justin Martyr, Opera ed. Otto (2nd edition ; Jena
1849) iii 32.]
Dion
Cassius in his history [Lib Ixxvii 18.] which he wrote A.D., 211-222, states
that Caracalla (Emp 211-216) honoured the memory of Apollonius with a chapel
or monument (heroum).
It was just at this time (216) that Philostratus composed his Life of Apollonius, at the
request of Domna Julia, Caracalla’s mother, and it is with this document principally that we
shall have to deal in the sequel.
Lampridius,
who flourished about the middle of the third century, further informs us that
Alexander Severus (Emp 222-235) placed the statue of Apollonius in his lararium
together with those of Christ, Abraham, and Orpheus. [Life of Alexander Severus
xxix.]
Vopiscus,
writing in the last decade of the third century, tells us that Aurelian (Emp
270-275) vowed a temple to Apollonius, of whom he had seen a vision when besieging
Tyana. Vopiscus speaks of the Tyanean as “a sage of the most wide-spread
renown and authority, an ancient philosopher, and a true friend of the Gods,”
nay, as a manifestation of deity. “For what among men,” exclaims
the historian, “was more holy, what more worthy of reverence, what more
venerable, what more god-like than he? He, it was, who gave life to the dead.
He it was, who did and said so many things beyond the power of men.” [Life
of Aurelian xxiv.] So enthusiastic is Vopiscus about Apollonius, that he promises,
if he lives, to write a short account of his life in Latin, so that his deeds
and words may be on the tongue of all, for as yet the only accounts are in Greek.
[“Quae qui velit nosse, groecos legat libros qui de ejus vita conscripti
sunt.” These accounts were probably the books of Maximus, Mœragenes,
and Philostratus.] Vopiscus, however, did not fulfil his promise, but we learn
that about this date both Soterichus [An Egyptian epic poet, who wrote several
poetical histories in Greek; he flourished in the last decade of the third century.]
and Nichomachus wrote Lives of our philosopher, and shortly afterwards Tascius
Victorianus, working on the papers of Nichomachus, [Sidonius Apollinaris, Epp.,
viii 3. See also Legrand d’Aussy, Vie d’Apollonius de Tyane (Paris
1807), p xIvii.] also composed a Life. None of these Lives, however, have reached
us.
It
was just at this period also, namely, in the last years of the third century
and the first years of the fourth, that Porphyry and Iamblichus composed their
treatises on Pythagoras and his school; both mention Apollonius as one of their
authorities, and it is probable that the first 30 seconds of Iamblichus are
taken from Apollonius. [Porphyry, De Vita Pythagoræ, section ii., ed Kiessling
(Leipzig 1816). Iamblichus De Vita Pythagorica, chap xxv., ed Kiessling (Leipzig
1813); see especially K’s note, pp II Sqq. See also Porphyry, Frag., De
Styge, p 285, ed Holst.]
We
now come to an incident which hurled the character of Apollonius into the arena
of Christian polemics, where it has been tossed about until the present day.
Hierocles, successively governor of Palmyra, Bithynia, and Alexandria, and a
philosopher, about the year 305 wrote a criticism on the claims of the Christians,
in two books, called A Truthful Address to the Christians, or more shortly The
Truth-lover. He seems to have based himself for the most part on the previous
work of Celsus and Porphyry, [See Duchesne on the recently discovered works
of Macarious Magnes (Paris 1877)], but introduced a new subject of controversy
by opposing the wonderful works of Apollonius to the claims of the Christians
to exclusive right in “miracles” as proof of the divinity of their
Master. In this part of his treatise Hierocles used Philostratus’ Life
of Apollonius.
To
this pertinent criticism of Hierocles Eusebius of Cæsarea immediately
replied in a treatise still extant, entitled Contra Hieroclem. [The most convenient
text is by Gaisford (Oxford 1852), Eusebii Pamphili contra Hieroclem; it is
also printed in a number of editions of Philostratus. There are two translations
in Latin, one in Italian, one in Danish, all bound up with Philostratus’
Vita, and one in French printed apart (Discours d’Eusèbe Evêque
de Cesarée touchant les Miracles attribuez par les Payens à Apollonius
de Tyane, tr by Cousin. Paris; 1584, 12mo, 135 pp.] Eusebius admits that Apollonius
was a wise and virtuous man, but denies that there is sufficient proof that
the wonderful things ascribed to him ever took place; and even if they did take
place, they were the work of “dæmons,” and not of God. The
treatise of Eusebius is interesting; he severely scrutinises the statements
in Philostratus, and shows himself possessed of a first rate critical faculty.
Had he only used the same faculty on the documents of the Church, of which he
was the first historian, posterity would have owed him an eternal debt of gratitude.
But Eusebius, like so many other apologists, could only see one side; justice,
when anything touching Christianity was called into question, was a stranger
to his mind, and he would have considered it blasphemy to use his critical faculty
on the documents which relate the “miracles” of Jesus. Still the
problem of “miracle” was the same, as Hierocles pointed out, and
remains the same to this day.
After
the controversy reincarnated again in the sixteenth century, and when the hypothesis
of the “Devil” as the prime-mover in all “miracles”
but those of the Church lost its hold with the progress of scientific thought,
the nature of the wonders related in the Life of Apollonius was still so great
a difficulty that it gave rise to a new hypothesis of plagiarism. The life of
Apollonius was a Pagan plagiarism of the life of Jesus. But Eusebius and the
Fathers who followed him had no suspicion of this; they lived in times when
such an assertion could have been easily refuted. There is not a word in Philostratus
to show he had any acquaintance with the life of Jesus, and fascinating as Baur’s
“tendency-writing” theory is to many, we can only say that as a
plagiarist of the Gospel story Philostratus is a conspicuous failure. Philostratus
writes the history of a good and wise man, a man with a mission of teaching,
clothed in the wonder stories preserved in the memory and embellished by the
imagination of fond posterity, but not the drama of incarnate Deity as the fulfilment
of world prophecy.
Lactantius,
writing about 315, also attacked the treatise of Hierocles, who seems to have
put forward some very pertinent criticisms; for the Church Father says that
he enumerates so many of their Christian inner teachings (intima) that
sometimes he would seem to have at one time undergone the same training (disciplina).
But it is in vain, says Lactantius, that Hierocles endeavours to show that Apollonius
performed similar or even greater deeds than Jesus, for Christians do not believe
that Christ is God because he did wonderful things, but because all the things
wrought in him were those which were announced by the prophets. [Lactantius,
Divinae Institutiones, v 2, 3; ed Fritsche (Leipzig 1842) pp 233, 236] And in
taking this ground Lactantius saw far more clearly than Eusebius the weakness
of the proof from “miracle.”
Arnobius,
the teacher of Lactantius, however, writing at the end of the third century,
before the controversy, in referring to Apollonius simply classes him among
Magi, such as Zoroaster and others mentioned in the passage of Appuleius to
which we have already referred. [Arnobius, Adversus Nationes, i, 52; ed Hildebrand
(Halle 1844) p 86. The Church Father, however, with that exclusiveness peculiar
to the Judæo-Christian view, omits Moses from the list of Magi.]
But
even after the controversy there is a wide difference of opinion among the Fathers,
for although at the end of the fourth century John Chrysostom with great bitterness
calls Apollonius a deceiver and evil-doer, and declares that the whole of the
incidents in his life are unqualified fiction, [John Chrysostom, Adversus Judæos,
v 3 (p 631); De Laudibus Sancti Pauli Apost. Homil., iv (p 493 d; ed Montfauc]
Jerome, on the contrary, at the very same date, takes almost a favourable view,
for, after perusing Philostratus, he writes that Apollonius found everywhere
something to learn and something whereby he might become a better man. [Hieronymus,
Ep ad Paullinum, 53 (text ap. Kayser, præf ix]. At the beginning of the
fifth century also Augustine, while ridiculing any attempt at comparison between
Apollonius and Jesus, says that the character of the Tyanean was “far
superior” to that ascribed to Jove, in respect of virtue. [August., Epp.,
cxxxviii. Text quoted by Legrand D’aussy, op,cit., p 294.]
About
the same date also we find Isidorus of Pelusium, who died in 450, bluntly denying
that there is any truth in the claim made by “certain,” whom he
does not further specify, that Apollonius of Tyana “consecrated many spots
in many parts of the world for the safety of the inhabitants.” [Isidorus
Pelusiota, Epp., p 138; ed J Billius (Paris 1585)] It is instructive to compare
the denial of Isidorus with the passage we have already quoted from Pseudo-Justin.
The writer of Questions and Answers to the Orthodox in the second century could
not dispose of the question by a blunt denial; he had to admit it and argue
the case of other grounds - - namely, the agency of the Devil. Nor can the argument
of the Fathers, that Apollonius used magic to bring about his results, while
the untaught Christians could perform healing wonders by a single word, [See
Arnobius, loc cit.] be accepted as valid by the unprejudiced critic, for there
is no evidence to support the contention that Apollonius employed such methods
for his wonder-workings; on the contrary, both Apollonius himself and his biographer
Philostratus strenuously repudiate the charge of magic brought against him.
On
the other hand, a few years later, Sidonius Apollinaris, Bishop of Claremont,
speaks in the highest terms of Apollonius. Sidonius translated the Life of Apollonius
into Latin for Leon, the councillor of King Euric, and in writing to his friend
he says:” Read the life of a man who (religion apart) resembles you in
many things; a man sought out by the rich, yet who never sought for riches;
who loved wisdom and despised gold; a man frugal in the midst of feastings,
clad in linen in the midst of those clothed in purple, austere in the midst
of luxury . . . . In fine, to speak plainly, perchance no historian will find
in ancient times a philosopher whose life is equal to that of Apollonius.”
[Sidonius Apollinaris, Epp., viii 3. Also Fabricius, Bibliotheca Græca,
pp 549, 565 (ed Harles). The work of Sidonius on Apollonius is unfortunately
lost.]
Thus we see that even among the Church Fathers opinions were divided; while among the
philosophers themselves the praise of Apollonius was unstinted.
For
Ammianus Marcellinus, “the last subject of Rome who composed a profane
history in the Latin language,” and the friend of Julian the philosopher-emperor,
refers to the Tyanean as “that most renowned philosopher”; [Amplissimus
ille philosophus (xxiii 7). See also xxi 14; xxiii 19] while a few years
later Eunapius, the pupil of Chrysanthius, one of the teachers of Julian, writing
in the last years of the fourth century says that Apollonius was more than a
philosopher; he was “a middle term, as it were, between gods and men.”
[ τι θεων τε κατ ανΦρωπου
μεσο , meaning thereby presumably one who has reached the
grade of being superior to man, but not yet equal to the gods. This was called
by the Greeks the “dæmonian” order. But the word “dæmon,”
owing to sectarian bitterness, has long been degraded from its former high estate,
and the original idea is now signified in popular language by the term “angel.”
Compare Plato, Symposium, xxiii.,παν τα δαιμσνιονμεταεν
εστι θεου τε και
ϑνητου, “all that is dæmonian is between
God and man.” Not only was Apollonius an adherent of the Pythagorean philosophy,
but “he fully exemplified the more divine and practical side in it.”
In fact Philostratus should have called his biography “The Sojourning
of a God among Men.” [Eunapius, Vitæ Philosophorum, Proœmium,
vi ; ed Boissonade (Amsterdam 1822) p 3.] This seemingly wildly exaggerated
estimate may perhaps receive explanation in the fact that Eunapius belonged
to a school which knew the nature of the attainments ascribed to Apollonius.
Indeed,
“as late as the fifth century we find one Volusian, a proconsul of Africa,
descended from an old Roman family and still strongly attached to the religion
of his ancestors, almost worshipping Apollonius of Tyana as a supernatural being.”
[Réville, Apollonius of Tyana (tr from the French) p 56 (London 1866).
I have, however, not been able to discover on what authority this statement
is made.]
Even
after the downfall of philosophy we find Cassiodorus, who spent the last years
of his long life in a monastery, speaking of Apollonius as the “renowned
philosopher.” [Insignis philosophus; see his Chronicon, written
down to the year 519.] So also among Byzantine writers, the monk George Syncellus,
in the eighth century, refers several times to our philosopher, and not only
without the slightest adverse criticism, but he declares that he was the first
and most remarkable of all the illustrious people who appeared under the Empire.
† [In his Chronographia. See Legrand d’Aussy, op.cit., p 313.] Tzetzes
also, the critic and grammarian, calls Apollonius “all-wise and a fore-knower
of all things.” [Chiliades ii 60]
And
though the monk Xiphilinus, in the eleventh century, in a note to his abridgment
of the history of Dion Cassius, calls Apollonius a clever juggler and magician,
§ [Cited by Legrand d’Aussy, op cit., p 286] nevertheless Cedrenus
in the same century bestows on Apollonius the not uncomplimentary title of an
“adept Pythagorean philosopher,” [ φιλοσοφος
ΙΙυφαγσρειος στοιχειωματικσς
— Cedrenus, Compendium Historiarium, i 346; ed Bekker. The word which
I have rendered by “adept” signifies one “who has power over
the elements.” and relates several instances of the efficacy of his powers
in Byzantium. In fact, if we can believe Nicetas, as late as the thirteenth
century there were at Byzantium certain bronze doors, formerly consecrated by
Apollonius, which had to be melted down because they had become an object of
superstition even for the Christians themselves. [Legrand d’Aussy, op
cit., p 308.]
Had
the work of Philostratus disappeared with the rest of the Lives, the above would
be all that we should have known about Apollonius. [If we except the disputed
Letters and a few quotations from one of Apollonius’ lost writings.] Little
enough, it is true, concerning so distinguished a character, yet ample enough
to show that, with the exception of theological prejudice, the suffrages of
antiquity were all on the side of our philosopher.
SECTION
V - Texts,
Translations, and Literature
WE
will now turn to the texts, translations, and general literature of the subject
in more recent times. Apollonius returned to the memory of the world, after
the oblivion of the dark ages, with evil auspices. From the very beginning the
old Hierocles-Eusebius controversy was revived, and the whole subject was at
once taken out of the calm region of philosophy and history and hurled once
more into the stormy arena of religious bitterness and prejudice. For long Aldus
hesitated to print the text of Philostratus, and only finally did so (in 1501)
with the text of Eusebius as an appendix, so that, as he piously phrases it,
“the antidote might accompany the poison.” Together with it appeared
a Latin translation by the Florentine Rinucci. [Philostratus de Vita Apollonii
Tyanei Libri Octo, tr by A Rinuccinus, and Eusebius contra Hieroclem, tr by
Z Acciolus (Venice 1501-04 fol.), Rinucci’s translation was improved by
Beroaldus and printed at Lyons (1504?) , and again at Cologne 1534.]
In
addition to the Latin version the sixteenth century also produced an Italian
[F Baldelli, Filostrato Lemnio della Vita di Apollonio Tianeo (Florence 1549,
8vo)] and French translation. [B de Vignère, Philostrate de la Vie d’Apollonius
(Paris 1596, 1599, 1611). Blaise de Vignère’s translation was subsequently
corrected by Frédéric
Morel and later by Thomas Artus, Sieur d’Embry, with bombastic notes in
which he bitterly attacks the wonder-workings of Apollonius. A French translation
was also made by Th Sibilet about 1560, but never published; the MS was in the
Bibliothèque Imperial. See Miller, Journal des Savants 1849, p 625, quoted
by Chassang, op infr cit., p iv.}
The
editio princeps of Aldus was superseded a century later by the edition
of Morel, [F Morellus, Philostrati Lemnii Opera, Gr. and Lat. (Paris 1608.)]
which in its turn was followed a century still later by that of Olearius. [G.
Olearius, Philostratorum quæ supersunt Omnia, Gr and Lat. (Leipzig 1709).]
Nearly a century and a half later again the text of Olearius was superseded
by that of Kayser (the first critical text), whose work in its last edition
contains the latest critical apparatus. [C L. Kayser, Flavii Philostrati quæ
supersunt, etc. (Zurich 1844, 4 to). In 1849 A Westermann also edited a text,
Philostratorum et Callistrati Opera, in Didot’s “Scriptorum Græcorum
Bibliotheca” (Paris 1849, 8vo). But Kayser brought out a new edition in
1853 (?), and again a third, with additional information in the Preface, in
the “Bibliotheca Teubneriana” (Leipzig 1870).] All information with
regard to the MSS, will be found in Kayser’s Latin Prefaces.
We shall now attempt to give some idea of the general literature on the subject, so that the
reader may be able to note some of the varying fortunes of the war of opinion in the
bibliographical indications. And if the general reader should be impatient of the matter and
eager to get to something of greater interest, he can easily omit its perusal; while if he be
a lover of the mystic way, and does not take delight in wrangling controversy, he may at
least sympathise with the writer, who has been compelled to look through the works of the
last century and a good round dozen of those of the previous centuries, before he could
venture on an opinion of his own with a clear conscience.
Sectarian
prejudice against Apollonius characterises nearly every opinion prior to the
nineteenth century. [For a general summary of opinions prior to 1807, if writers
who mention Apollonius incidentally, see Legrand d’Aussy, op. cit., pp
313-327.] Of books distinctly dedicated to the subject the works of the Abbé
Dupin [L’Histoire d’Apollone de Tyane convaincue de Fausseté
et d’Imposture (Paris 1705).] and of de Tillemont [An Account
of the Life of Apollonius Tyaneus (London 1702), tr out of the French,
from vol ii, of Lenain de Tillemont’s Histoire des Empereurs (Second Edition,
Paris 1720): to which is added Some Observations upon Apollonius. De Tillemont’s
view is that Apollonius was sent by the Devil to destroy the work of the Saviour.]
are bitter attacks on the Philosopher of Tyana in defence of the monopoly of
Christian miracles; while those of the Abbé Houtteville [A critical
and Historical Discourse upon the Method of the Principal Authors who wrote
for and against Christianity from its Beginning (London 1739), tr. from
the French of M. l’Abbé Houtteville; to which is added a “Dessertation
on the Life of Apollonius Tyanæus, with some Observations on the Platonists
of the Latter School,” pp 213-254.] and Lüderwald [Anti-Hierocles
oder Jesus Christus und Apollonius von Tyana in ihrer grossen Ungleichheit,
dargestellt v. J.B. Lüderwald (Halle 1793).] are less violent, though on
the same lines. A pseudonymous writer, however, of the eighteenth century strikes
out a somewhat different line by classing together the miracles of the Jesuits
and other Monastic Orders with those of Apollonius, and dubbing them all spurious,
while maintaining the sole authenticity of those of Jesus. [Phileleutherus Helvetius,
De Miraculis quæ Pythagoræ, Apolloni Tyanensi, Francisco Asisio,
Dominico, et Ignatio Lojolæ tribuuntur Libellus (Draci 1734).]
Nevertheless,
Bacon and Voltaire speak of Apollonius in the highest terms, [See Legrand d’Aussy,
op. cit., p 314, where the texts are given.] and even a century before the latter
the English Deist, Charles Blount, [The Two First Books of Philostratus concerning
the Life of Apollonius Tyaneus (London ; 1680 fol.) Blount’s notes (generally
ascribed to Lord Herbert) raised such an outcry that the book was condemned
in 1693, and few copies are in existence. Blount’s notes were, however,
translated into French a century later, in the days of Encyclopædism,
and appended to a French version of the Vita, under the title, Vie d’Apollonius
de Tyane par Philostrate avec les Commentaires donnés en Anglois par
Charles Blount sur les deux Premiers Livres de cet Ouvrage (Amsterdam ; 1779,
4 vols., Svo), with an ironical dedication to Pope Clement XIV., signed “Philalethes.”]
raised his voice against the universal obloquy poured upon the character of
the Tyanean ; his work, however, was speedily suppressed.
In
the midst of this war about miracles in the eighteenth century it is pleasant
to remark the short treatise of Herzog, who endeavours to give a sketch of the
philosophy and religious life of Apollonius, [Philosophiam Practicam Apollonii
Tyanæ in Sciagraphia, exponit M. Io. Christianus Herzog (Leipzig 1709)
; an academical oration of 20 pp.] but, alas! there were no followers of so
liberal an example in this century of strife.
So far then for the earlier literature of the subject. Frankly none of it is worth reading; the
problem could not be calmly considered in such a period. It started on the false ground of
the Hierocles-Eusebius controversy, which was but an incident (for wonder-working is
common to all great teachers and not peculiar to Apollonius or Jesus), and was embittered
by the rise of Encyclopædism and the rationalism of the Revolution period. Not that the
miracle-controversy ceased even in the last century; it does not, however, any longer
obscure the whole horizon, and the sun of a calmer judgment may be seen breaking
through the midst.
In order to make the rest of our summary clearer we append at the end of this essay the
titles of the works which have appeared since the beginning of the nineteenth century, in
chronological order.
A
glance over this list will show that the last century has produced an English
(Berwick’s), an Italian (Lancetti’s), a French (Chassang’s),
and two German translations (Jacobs’ and Baltzer’s). [Philostratus
is a difficult author to translate, nevertheless Chassang and Baltzer have succeeded
very well with him; Berwick also is readable, but in most places gives us a
paraphrase rather than a translation and frequently mistakes the meaning. Chassang’s
and Baltzer’s are by far the best translations.] The Rev E. Berwick’s
translation is the only English version; in his Preface the author, while asserting
the falsity of the miraculous element in the Life, says that the rest of the
work deserves careful attention. No harm will accrue to the Christian religion
by its perusal, for there are no allusions to the Life of Christ in it, and
the miracles are based on those ascribed to Pythagoras.
This is certainly a healthier standpoint than that of the traditional theological controversy,
which, unfortunately, however, was revived again by the great authority of Baur, who say
in a number of the early documents of the Christian era (notably the canonical Acts)
tendency-writings of but slight historical content, representing the changing fortunes of
schools and parties and not the actual histories of individuals. The Life of Apollonius was
one of these tendency-writings; its object was to put forward a view opposed to Christianity
in favour of philosophy. Baur thus divorced the whole subject from its historical standpoint
and attributed to Philostratus an elaborate scheme of which he was entirely innocent.
Baur’s view was largely adopted by Zeller in his Philosophie der Griechen (v 140), and by
Réville in Holland.
This “Christusbild” theory (carried by a few extremists to the point of denying that
Apollonius ever existed) has had a great vogue among writers on the subject, especially
compilers of encyclopædia articles; it is at any rate a wider issue than the traditional
miracle-wrangle, which was again revived in all its ancient narrowness by Newman, who
only uses Apollonius as an excuse for a dissertation on orthodox miracles, to which he
devotes eighteen pages out of the twenty-five of his treatise. Noack also follows Baur, and
to some extent Pettersch, though he takes the subject onto the ground of philosophy; while
Möckeberg, pastor of St. Nicolai in Hamburg, though striving to be fair to Apollonius, ends
his chatty dissertation with an outburst of orthodox praises of Jesus, praises which we by
no means grudge, but which are entirely out of place in such a subject.
The
development of the Jesus-Apollonius miracle-controversy into the Jesus-against-Apollonius
and even Christ-against-Anti-Christ battle, fought out with relays of lusty
champions on the one side against a feeble protest at best on the other, is
a painful spectacle to contemplate. How sadly must Jesus and Apollonius have
looked upon, and still look upon, this bitter and useless strife over their
saintly persons. Why should posterity set their memories one against the other?
Did they oppose one another in life? Did even their biographers do so after
their deaths? Why then could not the controversy have ceased with Eusebius?
For Lactantius frankly admits the point brought forward by Hierocles (to exemplify
which Hierocles only referred to Apollonius as one instance out of many)—that
“miracles” do not prove divinity. We rest our claims, says Lactantius,
not on miracles, but on the fulfilment of prophecy. [This would have
at least restored Apollonius to his natural environment, and confined the question
of the divinity of Jesus to its proper Judæo-Christian ground.] Had this
more sensible position been revived instead of that of Eusebius, the problem
of Apollonius would have been considered in its natural historical environment
four hundred years ago, and much ink and paper would have been saved.
With
the progress of the critical method, however, opinion has at length partly recovered
its balance, and it is pleasant to be able to turn to works which have rescued
the subject from theological obscurantism and placed it in the open field of
historical and critical research. The two volumes of the independent thinker,
Legrand d’Aussy, which appeared at the very beginning of the last century,
are, for the time, remarkably free from prejudice, and are a praiseworthy attempt
at historical impartiality, but criticism was still young at this period. Kayser,
though he does not go thoroughly into the matter, decides that the account of
Philostratus is purely a “fabularis narratio,” but is well
opposed by I. Müller, who contends for a strong element of history as a
background. But by far the best sifting of the sources is that of Jessen. [I
am unable to offer any opinion on Nielsen’s book, from ignorance of Danish,
but it has all the appearance of a careful, scholarly treatise with abundance
of references.] Priaulx’s study deals solely with the Indian episode and
is of no critical value for the estimation of the sources. Of all previous studies,
however, the works of Chassang and Baltzer are the most generally intelligent,
for both writers are aware of the possibilities of psychic science, though mostly
from the insufficient standpoint of spiritistic phenomena.
As
for Tredwell’s somewhat pretentious volume which, being in English, is
accessible to the general reader, it is largely reactionary, and is used as
a cover for adverse criticism of the Christian origins from a Secularist standpoint
which denies at the outset the possibility of “miracle” in any meaning
of the word. A mass of well-known numismatological and other matter, which is
entirely irrelevant, but which seems to be new and surprising to the author,
is introduced, and a map is prefixed to the title page purporting to give the
itineraries of Apollonius, but having little reference to the text of Philostratus.
Indeed, nowhere does Tredwell show that he is working on the text itself, and
the subject in his hands is but an excuse for a rambling dissertation on the
first century in general from his own standpoint.
This
is all regrettable, for with the exception of Berwick’s translation, which
is almost unprocurable, we have nothing of value in English for the general
reader, [Réville’s Pagan Christ is quite a misrepresentation
of the subject, and Newman’s treatment of the matter renders his treatise
an anachronism for the twentieth century.] except Sinnett’s short sketch,
which is descriptive rather than critical or explanatory.
So far then for the history of the Apollonius of opinion; we will now turn to the Apollonius
of Philostratus, and attempt if possible to discover some traces of the man as he was in
history, and the nature of his life and work.
SECTION
VI - The
Biographer of Apollonius
FLAVIUS
PHILOSTRATUS, the writer of the only Life of Apollonius which has come down
to us, Consisting of eight books written in Greek under the general title Τα
ες τον Τυανεα Απολλωνιον
] was
a distinguished man of letters who lived in the last quarter of the second and
the first half of the third century (cir. 175-245 A.D.). He formed one
of the circle of famous writers and thinkers gathered round the philosopher
empress, [ η θιλοιφος, see art.
“Philostratus” in Smith’s Dict of Gr and Rom. Biog. (London
1870) iii 327 b.] Julia Domna, who was the guiding spirit of the Empire during
the reigns of her husband Septimius Severus and her son Caracalla. All three
members of the imperial family were students of occult science, and the age
was pre-eminently one in which the occult arts, good and bad, were a passion.
Thus the sceptical Gibbon, in his sketch of Severus and his famous consort,
writes:
“Like
most of the Africans, Severus was passionately addicted to the vain studies
of magic and divination, deeply versed in the interpretation of dreams and omens,
and perfectly acquainted with the science of judicial astrology, which in almost
every age except the present, has maintained its dominion over the mind of man.
He had lost his first wife whilst he was governor of the Lionnese Gaul. In the
choice of a second, he sought only to connect himself with some favourite of
fortune; and as soon as he had discovered that a young lady of Emesa in Syria
had a royal nativity, [The italics are Gibbon’s.] he solicited
and obtained her hand. Julia Domna [More correctly Domna Julia; Domna being
not a shortened form of Domina, but the Syrian name of the empress.] (for that
was her name) deserved all that the stars could promise her. She possessed,
even in an advanced age, [She died A.D. 217.] the attractions of beauty, and
united to a lively imagination, seldom bestowed on her sex. Her amiable qualities
never made any deep impression on the dark and jealous temper of her husband.
[The contrary is held by other historians.] but in her son’s reign, she
administered the principal affairs of the Empire with a prudence that supported
his authority, and with a moderation that sometimes corrected his wild extravagances.
Julia applied herself to letters and philosophy with some success, and with
the most splendid reputation. She was the patroness of every art, and the friend
of every man of genius.” [Gibbon’s Decline and Fall, I, vi.]
We thus see, even from Gibbon’s somewhat grudging estimate, that Domna Julia was a
woman of remarkable character, whose outer acts give evidence of an inner purpose, and
whose private life has not been written. It was at her request that Philostratus wrote the Life
of Apollonius, and it was she who supplied him with certain MSS, that were in her
possession, as a basis; for the beautiful daughter of Bassianus, priest of the sun at Emesa,
was an ardent collector of books from every part of the world, especially of the MSS of
philosophers and of memoranda and biographical notes relating to the famous students
of the inner nature of things.
That Philostratus was the best man to whom to entrust so important a task, is doubtful. It
is true that he was a skilled stylist and a practised man of letters, an art critic and an ardent
antiquarian, as we may see from his other works; but he was a sophist rather than a
philosopher, and though an enthusiastic admirer of Pythagoras and his school, was so
from a distance, regarding it rather through a wonder loving atmosphere of curiosity and
the embellishments of a lively imagination than from a personal acquaintance with its
discipline, or a practical knowledge of those hidden forces of the soul with which its adepts
dealt. We have, therefore, to expect a sketch of the appearance of a thing by one outside,
rather than an exposition of the thing itself from one within.
The
following is Philostratus’ account of the sources from which he derived
his information concerning Apollonius: [I use the 1846 and 1870 editions of
Kayser’s text throughout.]
“I
have collected my materials partly from the cities which loved him, partly from
the temples whose rites and regulations he restored from their former state
of neglect, partly from his own letters. [A collection of these letters (but
not all of them) had been in the possession of the Emperor Hadrian (A.D. 117-138),
and had been left in his palace at Antium (viii 20). This proves the great fame
that Apollonius enjoyed shortly after his disappearance from history, and while
he was still a living memory. It is to be noticed that Hadrian was an enlightened
ruler, a great traveller, a lover of religion, and an initiate of the Eleusinian
Mysteries.] More detailed information I procured as follows. Damis was a man
of some education who formerly used to live in the ancient city of Ninus. [Nineveh.]
He became a disciple of Apollonius and recorded his travels, in which he says
he himself took part, and also the views, sayings, and predictions of his master.
A member of Damis’ family brought the Empress Julia the note-books [ τας
δελτους writing tablets. This suggests that
the account of Damis could not have been very voluminous, although Philostratus
further on asserts its detailed nature (i 19)] containing these memoirs, which
up to that time had not been known of. As I was one of the circle of this princess,
who was a lover and patroness of all literary productions, she ordered me to
rewrite these sketches and improve their form of expression, for though the
Ninevite expressed himself clearly, his style was far from correct. I also have
had access to a book by Maximus [One of the imperial secretaries of the time,
who was famous for his eloquence, and tutor to Apollonius.] of Ægæ
which contained all Apollonius’ doings at Ægæ. [A town not
far from Tarsus.] There is also a will written by Apollonius, from which we
can learn how he almost defied philosophy. [ ως υποφεαζων
την φσλοσφιαν εγενετο
. The term υποφεαζων
occurs only in this passage, and I am therefore not quite certain of its meaning.]
As to the four books of Mœragenes [This Life by Mœragenes is casually
mentioned by Origenes, Contra Celsum, vi 41; ed Lommatzsch (Berlin 1841), ii
373.] on Apollonius they do not deserve attention, for he knows nothing of most
of the facts of his life” (i. 2. 3).
These
are the sources to which Philostratus was indebted for his information, sources
which are unfortunately no longer accessible to us, except perhaps a few letters.
Nor did Philostratus spare any pains to gather information on the subject, for
in his concluding words (viii 31), he tells us that he has himself traveled
into most parts of the “world” and everywhere met with the “inspired
sayings” [ λογοις δαιμονιος
] of Apollonius, and that he was especially well acquainted with the temple
dedicated to the memory of our philosopher at Tyana and founded at the imperial
expense (“for the emperors had judged him not unworthy of like honours
with themselves”), whose priests, it is to be presumed, had got together
as much information as they could concerning Apollonius.
A thoroughly critical analysis of the literary effort of Philostratus, therefore, would have to
take into account all of these factors, and endeavour to assign each statement to its
original source. But even then the task of the historian would be incomplete, for it is
transparently evident that Philostratus has considerably “embellished” the narrative with
numerous notes and additions of his own and with the composition of set speeches.
Now
as the ancient writers did not separate their notes from the text, or indicate
them in any distinct fashion, we have to be constantly on our guard to detect
the original sources from the glosses of the writer. [Seldom is it that we have
such a clear indication, for instance, as in i 25; “The following is what
I have been able to learn . . . about Babylon.”] In fact Philostratus
is ever taking advantage of the mention of a name or a subject to display his
own knowledge, which is often of a most legendary and fantastic nature. This
is especially the case in his description of Apollonius’ Indian travels.
India at that time and long afterwards was considered the “end of the
world,” and an infinity of the strangest “travellers’ tales”
and mythological fables were in circulation concerning it. One has only to read
the accounts of the writers on India [See E A. Schwanbeck, Megasthenis Indica
(Bonn 1846), and J W. M’Crindle, Ancient India as described by Megasthenes
and Arrian (Calcutta, Bombay, London 1877). The Commerce and Navigation of the
Erythræan Sea (1879), Ancient India as described by Ktesias (1882), Ancient
India as described by Ptolemy (London 1885) and The Invasion of India by Alexander
the Great (London 1893, 1896.] from the time of Alexander onwards to discover
the source of most of the strange incidents that Philostratus records as experiences
of Apollonius. To take but one instance out of a hundred, Apollonius had to
cross the Caucasus, an indefinite name for the great system of mountain ranges
that bound the northern limits of Âryâvarta. Prometheus was chained
to the Caucasus, so every child has been told for centuries. Therefore, if Apollonius
crossed the Caucasus, he must have seen those chains. And so it was, Philostratus
assures us (ii 3). Not only so, but he volunteers the additional information
that you could not tell of what they were made! A perusal of Megasthenes, however,
will speedily reduce the long Philostratian account of the Indian travels of
Apollonius (i 41—iii 58) to a very narrow compass, for page after page
is simply padding, picked up from any one of the numerous Indica to which our
widely read author has access. [Another good example of this is seen in the
disquisition on elephants which Philostratus takes from Juba’s History
of Libya (ii 13 and 16)] To judge from such writers, Porus [Perhaps a title,
or the king of the Purus.] (the Râjâh conquered by Alexander) was
the immemorial king of India. In fact, in speaking of India or any other little
known country, a writer in these days had to drag in all that popular legend
associated with it or he stood little chance of being listened to. He had to
give his narrative a “local colour,” and this was especially the
case in a technical rhetorical effort like that of Philostratus.
Again, it was the fashion to insert set speeches and put them in the mouths of well-known
characters on historical occasions, good instances of which may be seen in Thucydides
and the Acts of the Apostles. Philostratus repeatedly does this.
But
it would be too long to enter into a detailed investigation of the subject,
although the writer has prepared notes on all these points, for that would be
to write a volume and not a sketch. Only a few points are therefore set down,
to warn the student to be ever on his guard to sift out Philostratus from his
sources. [Not that Philostratus makes any disguise of his embellishments; see,
for instance, ii 17, where he says: “Let me, however, defer what I
have to say on the subject of serpents, of the manner of hunting which Damis
gives a description.”]
But though we must be keenly alive to the importance of a thoroughly critical attitude where
definite facts of history are concerned, we should be as keenly on our guard against
judging everything from the standpoint of modern preconceptions. There is but one
religious literature of antiquity that has ever been treated with real sympathy in the West,
and that is the Judæo-Christian; in that alone have men been trained to feel at home, and
all in antiquity that treats of religion in a different mode to the Jewish or Christian way, is
felt to be strange, and, if obscure or extraordinary, to be even repulsive. The sayings and
doings of the Jewish prophets, of Jesus, and of the Apostles, are related with reverence,
embellished with the greatest beauties of diction, and illumined with the best thought of the
age; while the sayings and doings of other prophets and teachers have been for the most
part subjected to the most unsympathetic criticism, in which no attempt is made to
understand their standpoint. Had even-handed justice been dealt out all round, the world
today would have been richer in sympathy, in wide-mindedness, in comprehension of
nature, humanity, and God, in brief, in soul-experience.
Therefore,
in reading the Life of Apollonius let us remember that we have to look at it
through the eyes of a Greek, and not through those of a Jew or a Protestant.
The Many in their proper sphere must be for us as authentic a manifestation
of the Divine as the One or the All, for indeed the “Gods” exist
in spite of commandment and creed. The Saints and Martyrs and Angels have seemingly
taken the place of the Heroes and Dæmons and Gods, but the change of name
and change of viewpoint among men affect but little the unchangeable facts.
To sense the facts of universal religion under the ever changing names which
men bestow upon them, and then to enter with full sympathy and comprehension
into the hopes and fears of every phase of the religious mind - to read, as
it were, the past lives of our own souls is a most difficult task. But until
we can put ourselves understandingly in the places of others, we can never see
more than one side of the Infinite Life of God. A student of comparative religion
must not be afraid of terms; he must not shudder when he meets with “polytheism,”
or draw back in horror when he encounters “dualism,” or feel an
increased satisfaction when he falls in with “monotheism”; he must
not feel awe when he pronounces the name of Yahweh and contempt when he utters
the name of Zeus; he must not picture a satyr when he reads the word “dæmon,”
and imagine a winged dream of beauty when he pronounces the word “angel.”
For him heresy and orthodoxy must not exist; he sees only his own soul slowly
working out its own experience, looking at life from every possible view-point,
so that haply at last he may see the whole, and having seen the whole, may become
at one with God.
To Apollonius the mere fashion of a man’s faith was unessential; he was at home in all
lands, among all cults. He had a helpful word for all, an intimate knowledge of the particular
way of each of them, which enabled him to restore them to health. Such men are rare; the
records of such men are precious, and require the embellishments of no rhetorician.
Let us then, first of all, try to recover the outline of the early external life and of the travels
of Apollonius shorn of Philostratus’ embellishments, and then endeavour to consider the
nature of his mission, the manner of the philosophy which he so dearly loved and which
was to him his religion, and last, if possible, the way of his inner life.
SECTION
VII - Early
Life
APOLLONIUS
was born [Legends of the wonderful happenings at his birth were in circulation,
and are of the same nature as all such birth-legends of great people.] at Tyana,
a city in the south of Cappadocia, somewhere in the early years of the Christian
era. His parents were of ancient family and considerable fortune (i 4). At an
early age he gave signs of a very powerful memory and studious disposition,
and was remarkable for his beauty. At the age of fourteen he was sent to Tarsus,
a famous centre of learning of the time, to complete his studies. But mere rhetoric
and style and the life of the “schools” were little suited to his
serious disposition, and he speedily left for Ægæ, a town on the
sea coast east of Tarsus. Here he found surroundings more suitable to his needs,
and plunged with ardor into the study of philosophy. He became intimate with
the priests of the temple of Æsculapius, when cures were still wrought,
and enjoyed the society and instruction of pupils and teachers of the Platonic,
Stoic, Peripatetic, and Epicurean schools of philosophy; but though he studied
all these systems of thought with attention, it was the lessons of the Pythagorean
school upon which he seized with an extraordinary depth of comprehension, [
αρρητω τινι σοφια
ενελαβε ] and that, too, although his teacher,
Euxenus, was but a parrot of the doctrines and not a practiser of the discipline.
But such parroting was not enough for the eager spirit of Apollonius; his extraordinary
“memory,” which infused life into the dull utterances of his tutor,
urged him on, and at the age of sixteen “he soared into the Pythagorean
life, winged by some greater one.” [Sci., than his tutor; namely, the
“memory” within him, or his “dæmon.”] Nevertheless
he retained his affection for the man who had told him of the way, and rewarded
him handsomely (i 7).
When
Euxenus asked him how he would begin his new mode of life he replied: “As
doctors purge their patients.” Hence he refused to touch anything that
had animal life in it, on the ground that it densified the mind and rendered
it impure. He considered that the only pure form of food was what the earth
produced, fruits and vegetables. He also abstained from wine, for though it
was made from fruit, “it rendered turbid the æther [This æther
was presumably the mind-stuff.] in the soul” and “destroyed the
composure of the mind.” Moreover, he went barefoot, let his hair grow
long, and wore nothing but linen. He now lived in the temple, to the admiration
of the priests and with the express approval of Æsculapius, [That is to
say presumably he was encouraged in his efforts by those unseen helpers of the
temple by whom the cures were wrought by means of dreams, and help was given
psychically and mesmerically.] and he rapidly became so famous for his asceticism
and pious life, that a saying [“Where are you hurrying? Are you off to
see the youth?”] of the Cilicians about him became a proverb (i 8).
At the age of twenty his father died (his mother having died some years before) leaving a
considerable fortune, which Apollonius was to share with his elder brother, a wild and
dissolute youth of twenty-three. Being still a minor, Apollonius continued to reside at Ægae,
where the temple of Æsculapius had now become a busy centre of study, and echoed from
one end to the other with the sound of lofty philosophical discourses. On coming of age he
returned to Tyana to endeavour to rescue his brother from his vicious life. His brother had
apparently exhausted his legal share of the property, and Apollonius at once made over
half of his own portion to him, and by his gentle admonitions restored him to manhood. In
fact he seems to have devoted his time to setting in order the affairs of the family, for he
distributed the rest of his patrimony among certain of his relatives, and kept for himself but
a bare pittance; he required but little, he said, and should never marry (i 13).
He
now took the vow of silence for five years, for he was determined not to write
on philosophy until he had passed through this wholesome discipline. These five
years were passed mostly in Pamphylia and Cilicia, and though he spent much
time in study, he did not immure himself in a community or monastery but kept
moving about and travelling from city to city. The temptations to break his
self-imposed vow were enormous. His strange appearance drew everyone's attention,
the laughter-loving populace made the silent philosopher the butt of their unscrupulous
wit, and all the protection he had against their scurrility and misconceptions
was the dignity of his mien and the glance of eyes that now could see both past
and future. Many a time he was on the verge of bursting out against some exceptional
insult or lying gossip, but ever He restrained himself with the words: “Heart,
patient be, and thou, my tongue, be still.” [Compare Odyssey, xx 18.]
(i 14).
Yet even this stern repression of the common mode of speech did not prevent his good
doing. Even at this early age he had begun to correct abuses. With eyes and hands and
motions of the head, he made his meaning understood, and on one occasion, at Aspendus
in Pamphylia, prevented a serious corn riot by silencing the crowd with his commanding
gestures and then writing what he had to say on his tablet (i 15).
So
far, apparently, Philostratus has been dependent upon the account of Maximus
of Ægæ, or perhaps only up to the time of Apollonius’ quitting
Ægæ. There is now a considerable gap in the narrative, and two short
chapters of vague generalities (i 16, 17) are all that Philostratus can produce
as the record of some fifteen or twenty [I am inclined to think, however, that
Apollonius was still a youngish man when he set out on his Indian travels, instead
of being forty-six, as some suppose. But the difficulties of most of the chronology
are insurmountable.] years, until Damis’ notes begin.
After
the five years of silence, we find Apollonius at Antioch, but this seems to
be only an incident in a long round of travel and work, and it is probable that
Philostratus brings Antioch into prominence merely because what little he had
learnt of this period of Apollonius’ life, he picked up in this much-frequented
city. Even from Philostratus himself we learn incidentally later on (i 20; iv
38) that Apollonius had spent some time among the Arabians, and had been instructed
by them. And by Arabia we are to understand the country south of Palestine,
which was at this period a regular hot-bed of mystic communities. The spots
he visited were in out-of-the-way places, where the spirit of holiness lingered,
and not the crowded and disturbed cities, for the subject of his conversation,
he said, required “men and not people.” [φησας
ουκ ανφρπν εαυτω
δειν αλλ ανδρων
] He spent his time in travelling from one to another of these temples, shrines,
and communities; from which we may conclude that there was some kind of common
freemasonry as it were, among them, of the nature of initiation , which opened
the door of hospitality to him.
But
whenever he went, he always held to a certain regular division of the day. At
sun-rise he practised certain religious exercises alone, the nature of which
he communicated only to those who had passed through the discipline of a “four
years’ “ (? five years’) silence. He then conversed with the
temple priests or the heads of the community, according as he was staying in
a Greek or non-Greek temple with public rites, or in a community with a discipline
peculiar to itself apart from the public cult. [ ιδιοτοπα
]
He
thus endeavoured to bring back the public cults to the purity of their ancient
traditions, and to suggest improvements in the practices of the private brotherhoods.
The most important part of his work was with those who were following the inner
life, and who already looked upon Apollonius as a teacher of the hidden way.
To these his comrades (εταιρους) and
pupils (ομιλητας), he devoted much attention,
being ever ready to answer their questions and give advice and instruction.
Not however that he neglected the people; it was his invariable custom to teach
them, but always after midday; for those who lived the inner life, [ τους
ουτω φιλοσοφουντας.]
he said, should on day’s dawning enter the presence of the Gods, [That
is to say, presumably, spend the time in silent meditation.] then spend the
time till midday in giving and receiving instruction in holy things, and not
till after noon devote themselves to human affairs. That is to say, the morning
was devoted by Apollonius to the divine science, and the afternoon to instruction
in ethics and practical life. After the day’s work he bathed in cold water,
as did so many of the mystics of the time in those lands, notably the Essenes
and Therapeuts (i 16).
“After
these things,” says Philostratus, as vaguely as the writer of a gospel
narrative, Apollonius determined to visit the Brachmanes and Sarmanes. [That
is the Brâhmans and Buddhists. Sarman is the Greet corruption of the Sanskrit
Shramana and Pâli Samano, the technical term for a Buddhist ascetic or
monk. The ignorance of the copyists changed Sarmanes first into Germanes and
then into Hyrcanians!] What induced our philosopher to make so long and dangerous
a journey nowhere appears from Philostratus, who simply says that Apollonius
thought it a good thing for a young man [This shows that Apollonius was still
young, and not between forty and fifty, as some have asserted. Tredwell (p 77)
dates the Indian travels as 41-54 A.D.] to travel. It is abundantly evident,
however, that Apollonius never traveled merely for the sake of travelling. What
he does he does with a distinct purpose. And his guides on this occasion, as
he assures his disciples who tried to dissuade him from his endeavour and refused
to accompany him, were wisdom and his inner monitor (dæmon). “Since
ye are faint-hearted,” says the solitary pilgrim, “I bid you farewell.
As for myself I must go whithersoever wisdom and my inner self may lead me.
The Gods are my advisers and I can but rely on their counsels” (i 18).
SECTION
VIII - The
Travels of Apollonius
AND so Apollonius departs from Antioch and journeys on to Ninus, the relic of the once
great Nina or Nineveh. There he meets with Damis, who becomes his constant companion
and faithful disciple. “Let us go together,” says Damis in words reminding us somewhat of
the words of Ruth. “Thou shalt follow God, and I thee!” (i 19).
From this point Philostratus professes to base himself to a great extent on the narrative of
Damis, and before going further, it is necessary to try to form some estimate of the
character of Damis, and discover how far he was admitted to the real confidence of
Apollonius.
Damis
was an enthusiast who loved Apollonius with a passionate affection. He saw in
his master almost a divine being, possessed of marvellous powers at which he
continually wondered, but which he could never understand. Like Ânanda,
the favourite disciple of the Buddha and his constant companion, Damis advanced
but slowly in comprehension of the real nature of spiritual science; he had
ever to remain in the outer courts of the temples and communities into whose
shrines and inner confidence Apollonius had full access, while he frequently
states his ignorance of his master’s plans and purposes. [See especially
iii, 15, 41; v 5, 10; vii 10, 13; viii 28.] The additional fact that he refers
to his notes as the “crumbs” [ εκφατνισματα
] from the “feasts of the Gods” (i 19), those feasts of which he
could for the most part only learn at secondhand what little Apollonius thought
fit to tell him, and which he doubtless largely misunderstood and clothed in
his own imaginings, would further confirm this view, if any further confirmation
was necessary. But indeed it is very manifest everywhere that Damis was outside
the circle of initiation, and this accounts both for his wonder-loving point
of view and his general superficiality.
Another
fact that comes out prominently from the narrative is his timid nature.[ See
especially Vii. 13, 14, 15, 223 ]He is continually afraid for himself or for
his master; and even towards the end, when Apollonius is imprisoned by Domitian,
it requires the phenomenal removal of the fetters before his eyes to assure
him that Apollonius is a willing victim.
Damis loves and wonders; seizes on unimportant detail and exaggerates it, while he can
only report of the really important things what he fancies to have taken place from a few
hints of Apollonius. As his story advances, it is true it takes on a soberer tint; but what
Damis omits, Philostratus is ever ready to supply from his own store of marvels, if chance
offers.
Nevertheless, even were we with the scalpel of criticism to cut away every morsel of flesh
from this body of tradition and legend, there would still remain a skeleton of fact that would
still represent Apollonius and give us some idea of his stature.
Apollonius
was one of the greatest travellers known to antiquity. Among the countries and
places he visited the following are the chief ones recorded by Philostratus.
[The list is full of gaps, so that we cannot suppose that Damis’ notes
were anything like the complete records of the numerous itineraries; not only
so, but one is tempted to believe that whole journeys, in which Damis had no
share, are omitted.]
From
Ninus (i 19) Apollonius journeys to Babylon (i 21), where he stops one year
and eight months (i 40) and visits surrounding cities such as Ecbatana, the
capital of Media (i 39); from Babylon to the Indian frontier no names are mentioned;
India was entered in every probability by the Khaibar Pass (ii 6) [Here at any
rate they came in sight of the giant mountains, the Imaus (Himavat) or Himâlayan
Range, where was the great mountain Meros (Meru), The name of the Hindu Olympus
being changed into Meros in Greek had, ever since Alexander’s expedition,
given rise to the myth that Bacchus was born from the thigh (meros) of
Zeus - presumably one of the facts which led Professor Max Müller to stigmatise
the whole of mythology as a “disease of language.”] for the first
city mentioned is Taxila (Attock) (ii 20); and so they make their way across
the tributaries of the Indus (ii 43) to the valley of the Ganges (iii 5), and
finally arrive at the “monastery of the wise men” (iii 10), where
Apollonius spends four months (iii 50).
This
monastery was presumably in Nepâl; it is in the mountains, and the “city”
nearest it is called Paraca. The chaos that Philostratus has made of Damis’
account, and before him the wonderful transformations Damis himself wrought
in Indian names, are presumably shown in this word. Paraca is perchance all
that Damis could make of Bharata, the general name of the Ganges valley in which
the dominant Âryas were settled. It is also probable that these wise men
were Buddhists, for they dwelt in a τυρσις, a
place that looked like a fort or fortress to Damis.
I
have little doubt that Philostratus could make nothing out of the geography
of India from the names in Damis’ diary; they were all unfamiliar to him,
so that as soon as he has exhausted the few Greek names known to him from the
accounts of the expedition of Alexander, he wanders in the “ends of the
earth,” and can make nothing of it till he picks up our travellers again
on their return journey at the mouth of the Indus. The salient fact that Apollonius
was making for a certain community, which was his peculiar goal, so impressed
the imagination of Philostratus (and perhaps of Damis before him) that he has
described it as being the only centre of the kind in India. Apollonius went
to India with a purpose and returned from it with distinct mission; [Referring
to his instructors he says, “I ever remember my masters and journey through
the world teaching what I have learned from them” (vi 18).] and perchance
his constant inquiries concerning the particular “wise men” whom
he was seeking, led Damis to imagine that they alone were the “Gymnosophists,”
the “naked philosophers” (if we are to take the term in its literal
sense) of popular Greek legend, which ignorantly ascribed to all the Hindu ascetics
the most striking peculiarity of a very small number. But to return to our itinerary.
Philostratus embellishes the account of the voyage from the Indus to the mouth of the
Euphrates (iii 52-58) with the travellers’ tales and names of islands and cities he has
gleaned from the Indica which were accessible to him, and so we again return to Babylon
and familiar geography with the following itinerary:
Babylon, Ninus, Antioch, Seleucia, Cyprus; thence to Ionia (iii 58), where he spends some
time in Asia Minor, especially at Ephesus (iv 1), Smyrna (iv 5), Pergamus (iv 9), and Troy
(iv II). Thence Apollonius crosses over to Lesbos (iv 13), and subsequently sails for
Athens, where he spends some years in Greece (iv 17-33) visiting the temples of Hellas,
reforming their rites and instructing the priests (iv 24). We next find him in Crete (iv 34),
and subsequently at Rome in the time of Nero (iv 36-46).
In
A.D. 66 Nero issued a decree forbidding any philosopher to remain in Rome, and
Apollonius set out for Spain, and landed at Gades, the modern Cadiz; he seems
to have stayed in Spain only a short time (iv 47); thence crossed to Africa,
and so by sea once more to Sicily, where the principal cities and temples were
visited (v 11-14). Thence Apollonius returned to Greece (v 18), four years having
elapsed since his landing at Athens from Lesbos (v 19). [According to some,
Apollonius would be now about sixty-eight years of age. But if he were still
young (say thirty years old or so) when he left for India, he must either have
spent a very long period in that country, or we have a very imperfect record
of his doings in Asia Minor, Greece, Italy, and Spain, after his return.]
From Piræus our philosopher sails for Chios (v 21), thence to Rhodes, and so to
Alexandria (v 24). At Alexandria he spends some time, and has several interviews with the
future Emperor Vespasian (v 27-41), and thence he sets out on a long journey up the Nile
so far as Ethopia beyond the cataracts, where he visits an interesting community of
ascetics called loosely Gymnosophists (vi 1-27).
On
his return to Alexandria (vi 28), he was summoned by Titus, who had just become
emperor, to meet him at Tarsus (vi 29-34). After this interview he appears to
have returned to Egypt, for Philostratus speaks vaguely of his spending some
time in Lower Egypt, and of visits to the Phœnicians, Cilicians, Ionians,
Achæans, and also to Italy (vi 35).
Now
Vespasian was emperor from 69 to 79, and Titus from 79 to 81. As Apollonius’
interviews with Vespasian took place shortly before the beginning of that emperor’s
reign, it is reasonable to conclude that a number of years was spent by our
philosopher in his Ethiopian journey, and that therefore Damis’ account
is a most imperfect one. In 81 Domitian became emperor, and just as Apollonius
opposed the follies of Nero, so did he criticise the acts of Domitian. He accordingly
became an object of suspicion to the emperor; but instead of keeping away from
Rome, he determined to brave the tyrant to his face. Crossing from Egypt to
Greece and taking ship at Corinth, he sailed by way of Sicily to Puteoli, and
thence to the Tiber mouth, and so to Rome (vii 10-16). Here Apollonius was tried
and acquitted (vii 17—viii 10). Sailing from Puteoli again Apollonius
returned to Greece (viii 15), where he spent two years (viii 24). Thence once
more he crossed over to Ionia at the time of the death of Domitian (viii 25),
visiting Smyrna and Ephesus and other of his favourite haunts. Hereupon he sends
away Damis on some pretext to Rome (viii 28) and - disappears; that is to say,
if it be allowed to speculate, he undertook yet another journey to the place
which he loved above all others, the “home of the wise men.”
Now
Domitian was killed 96 A.D., and one of the last recorded acts of Apollonius
is his vision of this event at the time of its occurrence. Therefore the trial
of Apollonius at Rome took place somewhere about 93, and we have a gap of twelve
years from his interview with Titus in 81, which Philostratus can only fill
up with a few vague stories and generalities.
As to his age at the time of his mysterious disappearance from the pages of history,
Philostratus tells us that Damis says nothing; but some, he adds, say he was eighty, some
ninety, and some even a hundred.
The estimate of eighty years seems to fit in best with the rest of the chronological
indications, but there is no certainty in the matter with the present materials at our disposal.
Such then is the geographical outline, so to say, of the life of Apollonius, and even the
most careless reader of the bare skeleton of the journeys recorded by Philostratus must
be struck by the indomitable energy of the man, and his power of endurance.
We will now turn our attention to one or two points of interest connected with the temples
and communities he visited.
SECTION
IX - In
the Shrines of the Temples and the Retreats of Religion
SEEING that the nature of Apollonius’ business with the priests of the temples and the
devotees of the mystic life was necessarily of a most intimate and secret nature, for in
those days it was the invariable custom to draw a sharp line of demarcation between the
inner and outer, the initiated and the profane, it is not to be expected that we can learn
anything but mere externalities from the Damis-Philostratus narrative; nevertheless, even
these outer indications are of interest.
The temple of Æsculapius at Ægæ, where Apollonius spent the most impressionable years
of his life, was one of innumerable hospitals of Greece, where the healing art was practised
on lines totally different to our present methods. We are at once introduced to an
atmosphere laden with psychic influences, to a centre whither for centuries patients had
flocked to “consult the God.” In order to do so, it was necessary for them to go through
certain preliminary purifications and follow certain rules given by the priests; they then
passed the night in the shrine and in their sleep instructions were given them for their
healing. This method, no doubt, was only resorted to when the skill of the priest was
exhausted; in any case, the priests must have been deeply versed in the interpretation of
these dreams and in their rationale. It is also evident that as Apollonius loved to pass his
time in the temple, he must have found there satisfaction for his spiritual needs, and
instruction in the inner science; though doubtless his own innate powers soon carried him
beyond his instructors and marked him out as the “favourite of the God.” The many cases
on record in our own day of patients in trance or some other psychic condition prescribing
for themselves, will help the student to understand the innumerable possibilities of healing
which were in Greece summed up in the personification Æsculapius.
Later
on the chief of the Indian sages has a disquisition on Æsculapius and
the healing art put into his mouth (iii 44), where the whole of medicine is
said to be dependent upon psychic diagnosis and prescience ( μαντεια
).
Finally
it may be noticed that it was the invariable custom of patients on their recovery
to record the fact on an ex-voto tablet in the temple, precisely as is
done today in Roman Catholic countries. [For the most recent study in English
on the subject of Æsculapius see The Cult of Asclepios, by Alice
Walton, Ph.D., in No III of the Cornell Studies in Classical Philology (Ithaca
N.Y; 1894]
On his way to India Apollonius saw a good deal of the Magi at Babylon. He used to visit
them at midday and midnight, but of what transpired Damis knew nothing, for Apollonius
would not permit him to accompany him, and in answer to his direct questions would only
answer: “They are wise, but not in all things” (i 26).
The description of a certain hall, however, to which Apollonius had access, seems to be
a garbled version of the interior of the temple. The roof was dome-shaped, and the ceiling
was covered with “saphire”; in this blue heaven were models of the heavenly bodies (“those
whom they regard as Gods”) fashioned in gold, as though moving in the ether. Moreover
from the roof were suspended four golden “Iygges” which the Magi call the “Tongues of the
Gods.” These were winged-wheels or spheres connected with the idea of Adrasteia (or
Fate). Their prototypes are described imperfectly in the Vision of Ezekiel, and the so-called
Hecatine strophali or spherulæ used in magical practices. may have been degenerate
descendants of these “living wheels” or spheres of the vital elements. The subject is one
of intense interest, but hopelessly incapable of treatment in our present age of scepticism
and profound ignorance of the past. The “Gods” who taught our infant humanity higher
than that at present evolving on our earth. They gave the impulse, and, when the earth-children were old enough to stand on their own feet, they withdrew. But the memory of
their deeds and a corrupt and degenerate form of the mysteries they established has ever
lingered in the memory of myth and legend. Seers have caught obscure glimpses of what
they taught and how they taught it, and the tradition of the Mysteries preserved some
memory of it in its symbols and instruments or engines. The Iygges of the Magi are said
to be a relic of this memory.
With
regard to the Indian sages it is impossible to make out any consistent story
from the fantastic jumble of the Damis-Philostratus romance. Damis seems to
have confused together a mixture of memories and scraps of gossip without any
attempt to distinguish one community or sect from another, and so produced a
blurred daub which Philostratus would have us regard as a picture of the “hill”
and a description of its “sages.” Damis’ confused memories,
[He evidently wrote the notes of the Indian travels long after the time at which
they were made.] however, have little to do with the actual monastery of its
ascetic inhabitants, who were the goal of Apollonius’ long journey. What
Apollonius heard and saw there, following his invariable custom in such circumstances,
he told no one, not even Damis, except what could be derived from the following
enigmatical sentence: “I saw men dwelling on the earth and yet not on
it, defended on all sides, yet without any defence, and yet possessed of nothing
but what all possess.” These words occur in two passages (iii 15 and vi
II), and in both Philostratus adds that Apollonius wrote [This shows that Philostratus
came across them in some work or letter of Apollonius, and is therefore independent
of Damis account for this particular.] and spoke them enigmatically. The meaning
of this saying is not difficult to divine. They were on the earth, but not of
the earth, for their minds were set on things above. They were protected by
their innate spiritual power, of which we have so many instances in Indian literature;
and yet they possessed nothing but what all men possess if they would but develop
the spiritual part of their being. But this explanation is not simple enough
for Philostratus, and so he presses into service all the memories of Damis,
or rather travellers’ tales, about levitation, magical illusions and the
rest.
The
head of the community is called Iarchas, a totally un-Indian name. The violence
done to all foreign names by the Greeks is notorious, and here we have to reckon
with an army of ignorant copyists as well as with Philostratus and Damis. I
would suggest that the name may perhaps be a corruption of Arhat. [ I - Âryas,
arχa(t)s, arhat.]
The main burden of Damis’ narrative insists on the psychic and spiritual knowledge of the
sages. They know what takes place at a distance, they can tell the past and future, and
read the past births of men.
The messenger sent to meet Apollonius carried what Damis calls a golden anchor (iii II 17),
and if this is an authentic fact, it would suggest a forerunner of the Tibetan dorje, the
present degenerate symbol of the “rod of power,” something like the thunder-bolt wielded
by Zeus. This would also point to a Buddhist community, though it must be confessed that
other indications point equally strongly to Brâhmanical customs, such as the caste-mark
on the forehead of the messenger (iii 7, II), the carrying of (bamboo) staves (danda), letting
the hair grow long, and wearing of turbans (iii 13). But indeed the whole account is too
confused to permit any hope of extracting historical details.
Of
the nature of Apollonius’ visit we may, however, judge from the following
mysterious letter to his hosts (iii 51):
“I
came to you by land and ye have given me the sea; nay, rather, by sharing
with me your wisdom ye have given me power to travel through heaven. These
things will I bring back to the mind of the Greeks, and I will hold converse
with you as though ye were present, if it be that I have not drunk of the
cup of Tantalus in vain.”
It
is evident from these cryptic sentences that the “sea” and the “cup
of Tantalus” are identical with the “wisdom” which had been
imparted to Apollonius - the wisdom which he was to bring back once more to
the memory of the Greeks. He thus clearly states that he returned from India
with a distinct mission and with the means to accomplish it, for not only had
he drunk of the ocean of wisdom in that he has learnt the Brahma-vidyâ
from their lips, but he has also learnt how to converse with them though his
body be in Greece and their bodies in India.
But
such a plain meaning - plain at least to every student of occult nature - was
beyond the understanding of Damis or the comprehension of Philostratus. And
it is doubtless the mention of the “cup of Tantalus” [Tantalus is
fabled to have stolen the cup of nectar from the gods; this was the amrita,
the ocean of immortality and wisdom, of the Indians.] in this letter which suggested
the inexhaustible loving cup episode in iii 32, and its connection with the
mythical fountains of Bacchus. Damis presses it into service to “explain”
the last phrase in Apollonius’ saying about the sages, namely, that they
were “possessed of nothing but what all possess" - which, however,
appears elsewhere in a changed form, as “possessing nothing, they have
the possessions of all men” (iii 15). [The words ουδεν
κεκτημενος ν τα
παντων , which Philostratus quotes twice in this
form, can certainly not be changed into μηδεν κεκτημενος
τα παντων
εχειν without doing unwarrantable violence to their
meaning.]
On
returning to Greece, one of the first shrines Apollonius visited was that of
Aphrodite at Paphos in Cyprus (iii 58). The greatest external peculiarity of
the Paphian worship of Venus was the representation of the goddess by a mysterious
stone symbol. It seems to have been of the size of a human being, but shaped
like a pine-cone, only of course with a smooth surface. Paphos was apparently
the oldest shrine dedicated to Venus in Greece. Its mysteries were very ancient,
but not indigenous; they were brought over from the mainland, from what was
subsequently Cilicia, in times of remote antiquity. The worship or consultation
of the Goddess was by means of prayers and the “pure flame of fire,”
and the temple was a great centre of divination. [See Tacitus, Historia, ii
3.]
Apollonius spent some time here and instructed the priests at length with regard to their
sacred rites.
In Asia Minor he was especially pleased with the temple of Æsculapius at Pergamus; he
healed many of the patients there, and gave instruction in the proper method to adopt in
order to procure reliable results by means of the prescriptive dreams.
At Troy, we are told, Apollonius spent a night alone at the tomb of Achilles, in former days
one of the spots of greatest popular sanctity in Greece (iv II). Why he did so does not
transpire, for the fantastic conversation with the shade of the hero reported by Philostratus
(iv 16) seems to be devoid of any element of likelihood. As, however, Apollonius made it
his business to visit Thessaly shortly afterwards expressly to urge the Thessalians to renew
the old accustomed rites to the hero (iv 13), we may suppose that it formed part of his
great effort to restore and purify the old institution of Hellas, so that, the accustomed
channels being freed, the life might flow more healthily in the national body.
Rumour would also have it that Achilles had told Apollonius where he would find the statue
of the hero Palamedes on the coast of Æolia. Apollonius accordingly restored the statue,
and Philostratus tells us he had seen it with his own eyes on the spot (iv 13).
Now this would be a matter of very little interest, were it not that a great deal is made of
Palamedes elsewhere in Philostratus’ narrative. What it all means is difficult to say with a
Damis and Philostratus as interpreters between ourselves and the silent and enigmatical
Apollonius.
Palamedes
was one of the heroes before Troy, who was fabled to have invented letters,
or to have completed the alphabet of Cadmus. [Berwick, Life of Apollonius, p
200 n.]
Now from two obscure sayings (iv 13, 33), we glean that our philosopher looked upon
Palamedes as the philosopher-hero of the Trojan period, although Homer says hardly a
word about him.
Was this, then, the reasons why Apollonius was so anxious to restore his statue? Not
altogether so; there appears to have been a more direct reason. Damis would have it that
Apollonius had met Palamedes in India; that he was at the monastery; that Iarchas had
one day pointed out a young ascetic who could “write without ever learning letters”; and
that this youth had been no other than Palamedes in one of his former births. Doubtless
the sceptic will say: “Of course! Pythagoras was a reincarnation of the hero Euphorbus who
fought at Troy, according to popular superstition; therefore, naturally, the young Indian was
the reincarnation of the hero Palamedes! The one legend simply begat the other.” But on
this principle, to be consistent, we should expect to find that it was Apollonius himself and
not an unknown Hindu ascetic, who had been once Palamedes.
In
any case Apollonius restored the rites to Achilles, and erected a chapel in
which he set up the neglected statue of Palamedes. [He also built a precinct
round the tomb of Leonidas at Thermopylæ (iv 23). The heroes of the Trojan
period, then, it would seem, had still some connection with Greece, according
to the science of the invisible world into which Apollonius was initiated. And
if the Protestant sceptic can make nothing of it, at least the Roman Catholic
reader may be induced to suspend his judgment by changing “hero”
into “saint.”
Can
it be possible that the attention which Apollonius bestowed upon the graves
and funeral monuments of the mighty dead of Greece may have been inspired by
the circle of ideas which led to the erection of the innumerable dâgobas
and stûpas in Buddhist lands, originally over the relics of the Buddha,
and the subsequent preservation of relics of arhats and great teachers?
At Lesbos Apollonius visited the ancient temple of the Orphic mysteries, which in early
years had been a great centre of prophecy and divination. Here also he was privileged to
enter the inner shrine or adytum (iv 14).
The Tyanean arrived in Athens at the time of the Eleusinian Mysteries, and in spite of the
festival and rites not only the people but also the candidates flocked to meet him to the
neglect of their religious duties. Apollonius rebuked them, and himself joined in the
necessary preliminary rites and presented himself for initiation.
It may, perhaps, surprise the reader to hear that Apollonius, who had already been initiated
into higher privileges than Eleusis could afford, should present himself for initiation. But the
reason is not far to seek; the Eleusinia constituted one of the intermediate organisations
between the popular cults and the genuine inner circles of instruction. They preserved one
of the traditions of the inner way, even if their officers for the time being had forgotten what
their predecessors had once known. To restore these ancient rites to their purity, or to
utilise them for their original object, it was necessary to enter within the precincts of the
institution; nothing could be effected from outside. The thing itself was good, and
Apollonius desired to support the ancient institution by setting the public example of
seeking initiation therein; not that he had anything to gain personally.
But
whether it was that the hierophant of that time was only ignorant, or whether
he was jealous of the great influence of Apollonius, he refused to admit our
philosopher, on the ground that he was a sorcerer (γσης),
and that no one could be initiated who was tainted by intercourse with evil
entities (δαιμσνια). To this charge
Apollonius replied with veiled irony: “You have omitted the most serious
charge that might have been urged against me: to wit, that though I really know
more about the mystic rite than its hierophant, I have come here pretending
to desire initiation from men knowing more than myself.” This charge would
have been true; he had made a pretence.
Dismayed at these words, frightened at the indignation of the people aroused by the insult
offered to their distinguished guest, and overawed by the presence of a knowledge which
he could no longer deny, the hierophant begged our philosopher to accept the initiation.
But Apollonius refused. “I will be initiated later on, “ he replied; “he will initiate me.” This is
said to have referred to the succeeding hierophant, who presided when Apollonius was
initiated four years later (iv 18; v 19).
While at Athens Apollonius spoke strongly against the effeminacy of the Bacchanalia and
the barbarities of the gladiatorial combats (iv 21, 22).
The
temples, mentioned by Philostratus, which Apollonius visited in Greece, have
all the peculiarity of being very ancient; for instance, Dodona, Dephi, the
ancient shrine of Apollo at Abæ in Phocis, the “caves” of
Amphiaraus [A great centre of divination by means of dreams (see ii 37).] and
Trophonius, and the temple of the Muses on Helicon.
When
he entered the adyta of these temples for the purpose of “restoring”
the rites, he was accompanied only by the priests, and certain of his immediate
disciples (γνωριμοι). This suggests
an extension to the meaning of the word “restoring” or “reforming,”
and when we read elsewhere of the many spots consecrated by Apollonius, we cannot
but think that part of his work was the reconsecration, and hence psychic purification,
of many of these ancient centres. His main external work, however, was the giving
of instruction, and, as Philostratus rhetorically phrases it, “bowls of
his words were set up everywhere for the thirsty to drink from” (iv 24).
But not only did our philosopher restore the ancient rites of religion, he also paid much
attention to the ancient polities and instructions. Thus we find him urging with success the
Spartans to return to their ancient mode of life, their athletic exercises, frugal living, and
the discipline of the old Dorian tradition (iv 27, 31-34); he, moreover, specially praised the
institution of the Olympic Games, the high standard of which was still maintained (iv 29),
while he recalled the ancient Amphictionic Council to its duty (iv 23), and corrected the
abuses of the Panionian assembly (iv 5).
In the spring of 66 A.D. he left Greece for Crete, where he seems to have bestowed most
of his time on the sanctuaries of Mount Ida and the temple of Æsculapius at Lebene (“for
as all Asia visits Pergamus so does all Crete visit Lebene”); but curiously enough he
refused to visit the famous Labyrinth at Gnossus, the ruins of which have just been
uncovered for a sceptical generation, most probably (if it is lawful to speculate) because
it has once been a centre of human sacrifice, and thus pertained to one of the ancient cults
of the left hand.
In Rome Apollonius continued his work of reforming the temples, and this with the full
sanction of the Pontifex Maximus Telesinus, one of the consuls for the year 66 A.D., who
was also a philosopher and a deep student of religion (iv 40). But his stay in the imperial
city was speedily cut short, for in October Nero crowned his persecution of the
philosophers by publishing a decree of banishment against them from Rome, and both
Telesinus (vii II) and Apollonius had to leave Italy.
We next find him in Spain, making his headquarters in the temple of Hercules at Cadiz.
On his return to Greece by way of Africa and Sicily (where he spent some time and visited
Ætna), he passed the winter (? of 67 A.D.) at Eleusis, living in the temple, and in the spring
of the following year sailed for Alexandria, spending some time on the way at Rhodes. The
city of philosophy and eclecticism par excellence received him with open arms as an old
friend. But to reform the public cults of Egypt was a far more difficult task than any he had
previously attempted. His presence in the temple (? the temple of Serapis) commanded
universal respect, everything about him and every world he uttered seemed to breathe an
atmosphere of wisdom and of “something divine.” The high priest of the temple looked on
in proud disdain. “Who is wise enough,” he mockingly asked, “to reform the religion of the
Egyptians?—only to be met with the confident retort of Apollonius: “Any sage who comes
from the Indians.” Here as elsewhere Apollonius set his face against blood-sacrifice, and
tried to substitute instead, as he had attempted elsewhere, the offering of frankincense
modelled in the form of the victim (v 25). Many abuses he tried to reform in the manners
of the Alexandrians, but upon none was he more severe than on their wild excitement over
horse-racing, which frequently led to bloodshed (v 26).
Apollonius seems to have spent most of the remaining twenty years of his life in Egypt, but
of what he did in the secret shrines of that land of mystery we can learn nothing from
Philostratus, except that on the protracted journey to Ethiopia up the Nile no city or temple
or community was unvisited, and everywhere there was an interchange of advice and
instruction in sacred things (v 43).
SECTION
X - The
Gymnosophists of Upper Egypt
WE now come to Apollonius’ visit to the “Gymnosophists” in “Ethopia,” which, though the
artistic and literary goal of Apollonius’ journey in Egypt as elaborated by Philostratus, is
only a single incident in the real history of the unrecorded life of our mysterious philosopher
in that ancient land.
Had Philostratus devoted a chapter or two to the nature of the practices, discipline, and
doctrines of the innumerable ascetic and mystic communities that honeycombed Egypt and
adjacent lands in those days, he would have earned the boundless gratitude of students
of the origins. But of all this he has no word; and yet he would have us believe that Damis’
reminiscences were an orderly series of notes of what actually happened. But in all things
it is very apparent that Damis was rather a compagnon de voyage than an initiated pupil.
Who
then were these mysterious “Gymnosophists,” as they are usually
called, and whence their name? Damis calls them simply the “Naked”
(γυμχοι), and it is very clear that the term is
not to be understood as merely physically naked; indeed, neither to the Indians
nor to these ascetics of uppermost Egypt can the term be applied with appropriateness
in its purely physical meaning, as is apparent from the descriptions of Damis
and Philostratus. A chance sentence that falls from the lips of one of these
ascetics, in giving the story of his life, affords us a clue to the real meaning
of the term. “At the age of fourteen,” he tells Apollonius, “I
resigned my patrimony to those who desired such things, and naked I sought
the Naked” (vi 16). [The word γυμνος
(naked), however, usually means lightly clad, as, for instance, when a man is
said to plough “naked,” that is with only one garment, and this
is evident from the comparison made between the costume of the Gymnosophists
and that of people in the hot weather at Athens (vi 6).
This
is the very same diction that Philo uses about the Therapeut communities, which
he declares were very numerous in every province of Egypt and scattered in all
lands. We are not, however, to suppose that these communities were all of the
same nature. It is true that Philo tries to make out that the most pious and
the chief of all of them was his particular community on the southern
shore of Lake Mœris, which was strongly Semitic if not orthodoxly Jewish;
and for Philo any community with a Jewish atmosphere must naturally have been
the best. The peculiarity and main interest of our community, which was at the
other end of the land above the cataracts, was that it had had some remote connection
with India.
The
community is called a φροντιστηριον
, in the sense of a place for meditation, a term used by ecclesiastical writers
for a monastery, but best known to classical students from the humorous use
made of it by Aristophanes, who in The Clouds calls the school of Socrates,
a phrontistêrion or “thinking shop.” The collection
of monasteria (ιερα), presumably caves, shrines,
or cells, [For they had neither huts nor houses, but lived in the open air.]
was situated on a hill or rising ground not far from the Nile. They were all
separated from one another, dotted about the hill, and ingeniously arranged.
There was hardly a tree in the place, with the exception of a single group of
palms, under whose shade they held their general meetings (vi 6).
It
is difficult to gather from the set speeches, put into the mouths of the head
of the community and Apollonius (vi 10-13, 18-22), any precise details as to
the mode of life of these ascetics, beyond the general indications of an existence
of great toil and physical hardship, which they considered the only means of
gaining wisdom. What the nature of their cult was, if they had one, we are not
told, except that at midday the Naked retired to their monasteria (vi
14).
The whole tendency of Apollonius’ arguments, however, is to remind the community of its
Eastern origin and its former connection with India, which it seems to have forgotten. The
communities of this particular kind in southern Egypt and northern Ethiopia dated back
presumably some centuries, and some of them may have been remotely Buddhist, for one
of the younger members of our community who left it to follow Apollonius, says that he
came to join it from the enthusiastic account of the wisdom of the Indians brought back by
his father, who has been certain of a vessel trading to the East. It was his father who told
him that these “Ethiopians” were from India, and so he had joined them instead of making
the long and perilous journey to the Indus itself (vi 16).
If there be any truth in this story it follows that the founders of this way of life had been
Indian ascetics, and if so they must have belonged to the only propagandising form of
Indian religion, namely, the Buddhist.
After the impulse had been given, the communities, which were presumably recruited from
generations of Egyptians, Arabs, and Ethiopians, were probably left entirely to themselves,
and so in course of time forgot their origin, and even perhaps their original rule. Such
speculations are permissible, owing to the repeated assertion of the original connection
between these Gymnosophists and India. The whole burden of the story is that they were
Indians who had forgotten their origin and fallen away from the wisdom.
The last incident that Philostratus records with regard to Apollonius among the shrines and
temples is a visit to the famous and very ancient oracle of Trophonius, near Lebadea, in
Bœotia. Apollonius is said to have spent seven days alone in this mysterious “cave,” and
to have returned with a book full of questions and answers on the subject of “philosophy”
(viii 19). This book was still, in the time of Philostratus, in the palace of Hadrian at Antium,
together with a number of letters of Apollonius, and many people used to visit Antium for
the special purpose of seeing it (viii 19, 29).
In
the hay-bundle of legendary rigmarole solemnly set down by Philostratus concerning
the cave of Trophonius, a small needle of truth may perhaps be discovered. The
“cave” seems to have been a very ancient temple or shrine, cut in
the heart of a hill, to which a number of underground passages of considerable
length led. It had probably been in ancient times one of the most holy centres
of the archaic cult of Hellas, perhaps even a relic of that Greece of thousands
of years B.C., the only tradition of which, as Plato tell us, was obtained by
Solon from the priests of Saïs. Or it may have been a subterranean shrine
of the same nature as the famous Dictæan cave in Crete which only last
year (1901 or so) was brought back to light by the indefatigable labours of
Messrs, Evans and Hogarth.
As
in the case of the travels of Apollonious, so with regard to the temples and
communities which he visited, Philostratus is a most disappointing cicerone.
But perhaps he is not to be blamed on this account, for the most important and
most interesting part of Apollonius’ work was of so intimate a nature,
prosecuted as it was among associations of such jealously-guarded secrecy, that
no one outside their ranks could know anything of it, and those who shared in
their initiation would say nothing.
It is, therefore, only when Apollonius comes forward to do some public act that we can get
any precise historical trace of him; in every other case he passes into the sanctuary of a
temple or enters the privacy of a community and is lost to view.
It may perhaps surprise us that Apollonius after sacrificing his private fortune, could
nevertheless undertake such long and expensive travels, but it would seem that he was
occasionally supplied with the necessary monies from the treasuries of the temples (cf viii
17), and that everywhere he was freely offered the hospitality of the temple or community
in the place where he happened to be staying.
In conclusion of the present part of our subject, we may mention the good service done by
Apollonius in driving away certain Chaldæan and Egyptian charlatans who were making
capital out of the fears of the cities on the left shores of the Hellespont. These cities had
suffered severely from shocks of earthquake, and in their panic placed large sums of
money in the hands of these adventurers (who “trafficked in the misfortune of others”), in
order that they perform propitiatory rites (vi 41). This taking money for the giving instruction
in the sacred science or for the performance of sacred rites was the most detestable of
crimes to all the true philosophers.
SECTION
XI - Apollonius
and the Rulers of the Empire
BUT not only did Apollonius vivify and reconsecrate the old centres of religion for some
inscrutable reason, and do what he could to help on the religious life of the time in its
multiplex phases, but he took a decided, though indirect, part in influencing the destinies
of the Empire through the persons of its supreme rulers.
This
influence, however, was invariably of a moral and not of a political nature.
It was brought to bear by means of philosophical converse and instruction, by
world of mouth or letter. Just as Apollonius on his travels conversed on philosophy,
and discoursed on the life of a wise man and the duties of a wise ruler, with
kings, [He spent, we are told, no less than a year and eight months with Vardan,
King of Babylon, and was the honoured guest of the Indian Râjâh
“Phraotes.”] rulers, and magistrates, so he endeavoured to advise
for their good those of the emperors who would listen to him.
Vespasian, Titus, and Nerva were all, prior to their elevation to the purple, friends and
admirers of Apollonius, while Nero and Domitian regarded the philosopher with dismay.
During Apollonius’ short stay in Rome, in 66 A.D., although he never let the slightest word
escape him that could be construed by the numerous informers into a treasonable
utterance, he was nevertheless brought before Tigellinus, the infamous favourite of Nero,
and subjected to a severe cross-examination. Apparently up to this time Apollonius working
for the future, had confined his attention entirely to the reformation of religion and the
restoration of the ancient institutions of the nations, but the tyrannical conduct of Nero,
which gave peace not even to the most blameless philosophers, at length opened his eyes
to a more immediate evil, which seemed no less than the abrogation of the liberty of
conscience by an irresponsible tyranny. From this time onwards, therefore, we find him
keenly interested in the persons of the successive emperors.
Indeed Damis, although he confesses his entire ignorance of the purpose of Apollonius’
journey to Spain after his expulsion from Rome, would have it that it was to aid the
forthcoming revolt against Nero. He conjectures this from a three days’ secret interview that
Apollonius had with the Governor of the Province of Bætica, who came to Cadiz especially
to see him, and declares that the last words of Apollonius’ visitor were: “Farewell, and
remember Vindex” (v 10).
It
is true that almost immediately afterwards the revolt of Vindex, the Governor
of Gaul, broke out, but the whole life and character of Apollonius is opposed
to any idea of political intrigue; on the contrary, he bravely withstood tyranny
and injustice to the face. He was opposed to the idea of Euphrates, a philosopher
of quite a different stamp, who would have put an end to the monarchy and restored
the republic (v 33); he believed that government by a monarch was the best for
the Empire, but he desired above all other things to see the “flock of
mankind” led by a “wise and faithful shepherd” (v 35).
So
that though Apollonius supported Vespasian as long as he worthily tried to follow
out this ideal, he immediately rebuked him to his face when he deprived the
Greek cities of their privileges. “You have enslaved Greece,” he
wrote. “You have reduced a free people to slavery” (v 41). Nevertheless,
in spite of this rebuke, Vespasian in his last letter to his son Titus, confesses
that they are what they are solely owing to the good advice of Apollonius (v
30).
Equally so he journeyed to Rome to meet Domitian face to face, and though he was put
on trial and every effort made to prove him guilty of treasonable plotting with Nerva, he
could not be convicted of anything of a political nature. Nerva was a good man, he told the
emperor, and no traitor. Not that Domitian had really any suspicion that Apollonius was
personally plotting against him; he cast him into prison solely in the hope that he might
induce the philosopher to disclose the confidences of Nerva and other prominent men who
were objects of suspicion to him, and who he imagined had consulted Apollonius on their
chances of success. Apollonius’ business was not with politics, but with the “princes who
asked him for his advice on the subject of virtue” (vi 43).
SECTION
XII - Apollonius
The Prophet and Wonder-Worker
WE
will now turn our attention for a brief space to that side of Apollonius’
life which has made him the subject of invincible prejudice. Apollonius was
not only a philosopher, in the sense of being a theoretical speculator or of
being the follower of an ordered mode of life schooled in the discipline of
resignation; he was also a philosopher in the original Pythagorean meaning of
the term - a knower of Nature’s secrets, who thus could speak as one having
authority.
He knew the hidden things of Nature by sight and not by hearing; for him the path of
philosophy was a life whereby the man himself became an instrument of knowing. Religion,
for Apollonius, was not a faith only, it was a science. For him the shows of things were but
ever-changing appearances; cults and rites, religions and faiths, were all one to him,
provided the right spirit were behind them. The Tyanean knew no differences of race or
creed; such narrow limitations were not for the philosopher.
Beyond
all others would he have laughed to hear the word “miracle” applied
to his doings. “Miracle,” in its Christian theological sense, was
an unknown term in antiquity, and is a vestige of superstition today. For though
many believe that it is possible by means of the soul to effect a multitude
of things beyond the possibilities of a science which is confined entirely to
the investigation of physical forces, none but the unthinking believe that there
can be any interference in the working of the laws which Deity has impressed
upon Nature - the credo of Miraculists.
Most of the recorded wonder-doings of Apollonius are cases of prophecy or foreseeing; of
seeing at a distance and seeing the past; of seeing or hearing in vision; of healing the sick
or curing cases of obsession or possession.
Already as a youth, in the temple of Ægæ, Apollonius gave signs of the possession of the
rudiments of this psychic insight; not only did he sense correctly the nature of the dark past
of a rich but unworthy suppliant who desired the restoration of his eyesight, but he foretold,
though unclearly, the evil end of one who made an attempt upon his innocence (i 12).
On
meeting with Damis, his future faithful henchman volunteered his services for
the long journey to India on the ground that he knew the languages of several
of the countries through which they had to pass. “But I understand them
all, though I have learned none of them,” answered Apollonius, in his
usual enigmatical fashion, and added: “Marvel not that I know all the
tongues of men, for I know even what they never say” (i 19). And by this
he meant simply that he could read men's thoughts, not that he could speak all
languages. But Damis and Philostratus cannot understand so simple a fact of
psychic experience; they will have it that he knew not only the language of
all men, but also of birds and beasts (i 20).
In
his conversation with the Babylonian monarch Vardan, Apollonius distinctly claims
foreknowledge. He says that he is a physician of the soul and can free the king
from the diseases of the mind, not only because he knows what ought to be done,
that is to say the proper discipline taught in the Pythagorean and similar schools,
but also because he foreknows the nature of the king (i 32). Indeed we are told
that the subject of foreknowledge (προγνωσεως
), of which science ( σοφια ) Apollonious was a deep
student, was one of the principal topics discussed by our philosopher and his
Indian hosts (iii 42).
In
fact, as Apollonius tells his philosophical and studious friend the Roman Consul
Telesinus, for him wisdom was a kind of divinizing or making divine of the whole
of nature, a sort of perpetual state of inspiration ( φειασμσς
), (iv 40). And so we are told that Apollonius was apprised of all things of
this nature by the energy of his dæmonial nature ( δαιμονιως
) (vii 10). Now for the student of the Pythagorean and Platonic schools the
“dæmon” of a man was what may be called the higher self, the
spiritual side of the soul as distinguished from the purely human. It is the
better part of the man, and when his physical consciousness is at-oned with
this “dweller in heaven,” he has (according to the highest mystic
philosophy of ancient Greece) while still on earth the powers of those incorporeal
intermediate beings between Gods and men called “dæmons”;
a state higher still, the living man becomes at-oned with the divine soul, he
becomes a God on earth; and yet a stage higher he becomes at one with the Good
and so becomes God.
Hence we find Apollonius indignantly rejecting the accusation of magic ignorantly brought
against him, an art which achieved its results by means of compacts with those low entities
with which the outermost realm of inner Nature swarms. Our philosopher repudiated
equally the idea of his being a soothsayer or diviner. With such arts he would have nothing
to do; if ever he uttered anything which savoured of foreknowledge, let them know it was
not by divination in the vulgar sense, but owing to “that wisdom which God reveals to the
wise” (iv 44).
The most numerous wonder-doings ascribed to Apollonius are instances precisely of such
foreknowledge or prophecy. 8 [See i 22 (cf 40), 34; iv 4, 6, 18 (cf v 19), 24, 43; v 7, 11, 13,
30, 37; vi 32; viii 26.] It must be confessed that the utterances recorded are often obscure
and enigmatical, but this is the usual case with such prophecy; for future events are most
frequently either seen in symbolic representations, the meaning of which is not clear until
after the event, or heard in equally enigmatical sentences. At times, however, we have
instances of very precise foreknowledge, such as the refusal of Apollonius to go on board
a vessel which foundered on the voyage (v 18).
The
instances of seeing present events at a distance, however - such as the burning
of a temple at Rome, which Apollonius saw while at Alexandria - are clear enough.
Indeed, if people know nothing else of the Tyanean, they have at last heard
how he saw at Ephesus the assassination of Domitian at Rome at the very moment
of its occurrence.
It was midday, to quote from the graphic account of Philostratus, and Apollonius was in one
of the small parks or groves in the suburbs, engaged in delivering an address on some
absorbing topic of philosophy. “At first he sank his voice as though in some apprehension;
he, however, continued his exposition, but haltingly, and with far less force than usual, as
a man who had some other subject in his mind than that on which he is speaking; finally
he ceased speaking altogether as though he could not find his words. Then staring fixedly
on the ground, he started forward three or four paces, crying out: ‘Strike the tyrant; strike!’
And this, not like a man who sees an image in a mirror, but as one with the actual scene
before his eyes, as though he were himself taking part in it.”
Turning to his astonished audience he told them what he had seen. But though they hoped
it were true, they refused to believe it, and thought that Apollonius had taken leave of his
senses. But the philosopher gently answered: You, on your part, are right to suspend your
rejoicings till the news is brought you in the usual fashion; “as for me, I go to return thanks
to the Gods for what I have myself seen” (viii 26).
Little wonder, then, if we read, not only of a number of symbolic dreams, but of their proper
interpretation, one of the most important branches of the esoteric discipline of the school.
(See especially i 23 and iv 34). Nor are we surprised to hear that Apollonius, relying entirely
on his inner knowledge, was instrumental in obtaining the reprieve of an innocent man at
Alexandria, who was on the point of being executed with a batch of criminals (v 24).
Indeed, he seems to have known the secret past of many with whom he came in contact
(vi 3, 5).
The
possession of such powers can put but little strain on the belief of a generation
like our own, to which such facts of psychic science are becoming with every
day more familiar. Nor should instances of curing diseases by mesmeric processes
astonish us, or even the so-called “casting out of evil spirits,”
if we give credence to the Gospel narrative and are familiar with the general
history of the times in which such healing of possession and obsession was a
commonplace. This, however, does not condemn us to any endorsement of the fantastic
descriptions of such happenings in which Philostratus indulges. If it be credible
that Apollonius was successful in dealing with obscure mental cases - cases
of obsession and possession - with which our hospitals and asylums are filled
today, and which are for the most part beyond the skill of official science
owing to its ignorance of the real agencies at work, it is equally evident that
Damis and Philostratus had little understanding of the matter, and have given
full rein to their imagination in their narratives (See ii 4; iv 20, 25; v 42;
vi 27, 43) Perhaps, however, Philostratus in some instances is only repeating
popular legend, the best case of which is the curing of the plague at Ephesus
which the Tyanean had foretold on so many occasions. Popular legend would have
it that the cause of the plague was traced to an old beggar man, who was buried
under a heap of stones by the infuriated populace. On Apollonius ordering the
stones to be removed, it was found that what had been a beggar man was now a
mad dog foaming at the mouth (iv 10)!
On
the contrary, the account of Apollonius’ “restoring to life”
a young girl of noble birth at Rome, is told with great moderation. Our philosopher
seems to have met the funeral procession by chance; whereupon he suddenly went
up to the bier, and, after making some passes over the maiden, and saying some
inaudible words, “waked her out of her seeming death.” But, says
Damis, “whether Apollonius noticed that the spark of the soul was still
alive which her friends had failed to perceive - they say it was raining lightly
and a slight vapour showed on her face - or whether he made the life in her
warm again and so restored her,” neither himself nor any who were present
could say (iv 45).
Of
a distinctly more phenomenal nature are the stories of Apollonius causing the
writing to disappear from the tablets of one of his accusers before Tigellinus
(iv 44); of his drawing his leg out of the fetters to show Damis that he was
not really a prisoner though chained in the dungeons of Domitian (vii 38); and
of his “disappearing”(ηφανσςη)
from the tribunal (viii 5). [This expression is, however, perhaps only to be
taken as rhetorical, for in viii 8, the incident is referred to in the simple
words “when he departed (απηλθε) from the
tribunal.”
We are not, however, to suppose that Apollonius despised or neglected the study of
physical phenomena in his devotion to the inner science of things. On the contrary, we
have several instances of his rejection of mythology in favour of a physical explanation of
natural phenomena. Such, for instance, are his explanations of the volcanic activity of
Ætna (v 14, 17), and of a tidal wave in Crete, the latter being accompanied with a correct
indication of the more immediate result of the occurrence. In fact an island had been
thrown up far out to sea by a submarine disturbance as was subsequently ascertained (iv
34). The explanation of the tides of Cadiz may also be placed in the same category (v 2).
SECTION
XIII -His
Mode of Life
WE will now present the reader with some general indications of the mode of life of
Apollonius, and the manner of his teaching, of which already something has been said
under the heading “Early Life.”
Our philosopher was an enthusiastic follower of the Pythagorean discipline; nay,
Philostratus would have us believe that he made more super-human efforts to reach
wisdom than even the great Samian (i 2). The outer forms of this discipline as exemplified
in Pythagoras are thus summed up by our author.
“Naught
would he wear that came from a dead beast, nor touch a morsel of a thing that
once had life, nor offer it in sacrifice; not for him to stain with blood the
altars; but honey-cakes and incense, and the service of his song went upward
from the man unto the Gods, for well he knew that they would take such gifts
far rather than the oxen in their hundreds with the knife. For he, in sooth,
held converse with the Gods and learned from them how they were pleased with
men and how displeased, and thence as well he drew his nature-lore. As for the
rest, he said, they guessed at the divine, and held opinions on the Gods which
proved each other false; but unto him Apollo’s self did come, confessed,
without disguise, [That is to say not in a “form,” but in his own
nature.] and there did come as well, though unconfessed, Athena and the Muses,
and other Gods whose forms and names mankind did not yet know.
Hence his disciples regarded Pythagoras as an inspired teacher, and received his rules as
laws. “In particular did they keep the rule of silence regarding the divine science. For they
heard within them many divine and unspeakable things on which it would have been
difficult for them to keep silence, had they not first learned that it was just this silence which
spoke to them” (i I).
Such
was the general declaration of the nature of the Pythagorean discipline by its
disciples. But, says Apollonius in his address to the Gymnosphists, Pythagoras
was not the inventor of it. It was the immemorial wisdom, and Pythagoras himself
had learnt it from the Indians. [See in this connection L. v. Schroeder, Pythagoras
und die Inder, eine Untersuchung über Herkunft und Abstammung der pythagoreischen
Lehren (Leipzig 1884).] This wisdom, he continued, had spoken to him in his
youth; she had said:
“For
sense, young sir, I have no charms; my cup is filled with toils unto the brim.
Would anyone embrace my way of life, he must resolve to banish from his board
all food that once bore life, to lose the memory of wine, and thus no more
to wisdom's cup befoul— the cup that doth consist of wine-untainted
souls. Nor shall wool warm him, nor aught that’s made from any beast.
I give my servants shoes of bast and as they can to sleep. And if I find them
overcome with love’s delights, I’ve ready pits down into which
that justice which doth follow hard on wisdom's foot, doth drag and thrust
them; indeed, so stern am I to those who choose my way, that e’en upon
their tongues I bind a chain. Now hear from me what things thou’lt gain,
if thou endure. An innate sense of fitness and of right, and ne’er to
feel that any’s lot is better than they own; tyrants to strike with
fear instead of being a fearsome slave to tyranny; to have the Gods more greatly
bless thy scanty gifts than those who pour before them blood of bulls. If
thou are pure, I’ll give thee how to know what things will be as well,
and fill thy eyes so full of light, that thou may’st recognise the Gods,
the heroes know, and prove and try the shadowy forms that feign the shapes
of men “ (vi II).
The whole life of Apollonius shows that he tried to carry out consistently this rule of life, and
the repeated statements that he would never join in the blood-sacrifices of the popular cults
(see especially i 24, 31; iv 11; v 25), but openly condemned them, show not only that the
Pythagorean school had ever set the example of the higher way of purer offerings, but that
they were not only not condemned and persecuted as heretics on this account, but were
rather regarded as being of peculiar sanctity, and as following a life superior to that of
ordinary mortals.
The
refraining from the flesh of animals, however, was not simply based upon ideas
of purity, it found additional sanction in the positive love of the lower kingdoms
and the horror of inflicting pain on any living creature. Thus Apollonius bluntly
refused to take any part in the chase, when invited to do so by his royal host
at Babylon. “Sire,” he replied, “have you forgotten that even
when you sacrifice I will not be present? Much less then would I do these beasts
to death, and all the more when their spirit is broken and they are penned in
contrary to their nature” (i 38). [This has reference to the preserved
hunting parks, or “paradises,” of the Babylonian monarchs.]
But though Apollonius was an unflinching task-master unto himself, he did not wish to
impose his mode of life on others, even on his personal friends and companions (provided
of course they did not adopt it of their own free will). Thus he tells Damis that he has no
wish to prohibit him from eating flesh and drinking wine, he simply demands the right of
refraining himself and of defending his conduct if called on to do so (ii 7). This is an
additional indication that Damis was not a member of the inner circle of discipline, and the
latter fact explains why so faithful a follower of the person of Apollonius was nevertheless
so much in the dark.
Not only so, but Apollonius even dissuades the Râjâh Phraotes, his first host in India, who
desired to adopt his strict rule, from doing so, on the ground that it would estrange him too
much from his subjects (ii 37).
Three times a day Apollonius prayed and meditated; at daybreak (vi 10, 18; vii 31), at
midday (vii 10), and at sun-down (viii 13). This seems to have been his invariable custom;
no matter where he was he seems to have devoted at least a few moments to silent
meditation at these times. The object of his worship is always said to have been the “Sun,”
that is to say the Lord of our world and its sister worlds, whose glamorous symbol is the
orb of day.
We have already seen in the short sketch devoted to his “Early Life” how he divided the
day and portioned out his time among his different classes of hearers and inquirers. His
style of teaching and speaking was the opposite of that of a rhetorician or professional
orator. There was no art in his sentences, no striving after effect, no affectation. But he
spoke “as from a tripod,” with such words as “I know,” “Methinks,” “Why do ye,” “Ye should
know.” His sentences were short and compact, and his words carried conviction with them
and fitted the facts. His task, he declared, was no longer to seek and to question as he had
done in his youth, but to teach what he knew (i 17). He did not use the dialectic of the
Socratic school, but would have his hearers turn from all else and give ear to the inner
voice of philosophy alone (iv 2). He drew his illustrations from any chance occurrence or
homely happening (iv 3; vi 3, 38), and pressed all into service for the improvement of his
listeners.
When put on his trial, he would make no preparation for his defence. He had lived his life
as it came from day to day, prepared for death, and would continue to do so (viii 30).
Moreover it was now his deliberate choice to challenge death in the cause of philosophy.
And so to his old friend’s repeated solicitations to prepare his defence, he replied:
“Damis,
you seem to lose your wits in face of death, though you have been so long with
me and I have loved philosophy e’en from my youth; [Reading θιλοσοφω
for θιλοσοφων
] I thought that you were both yourself prepared
for death and knew full well my generalship in this. For just as warriors in
the field have need not only of good courage but also of that generalship which
tells them when to fight, so too must they who wisdom love make careful study
of good times to die, that they may choose the best and not be done to death
all unprepared. That I have chosen best and picked the moment which suits wisdom
best to give death battle—if so it be that any one should wish to slay
me - I' ve proved to other friends when you were by, nor ever ceased to teach
you it alone” (vii 31).
The above are some few indications of how our philosopher lived, in fear of nothing but
disloyalty to his high ideal. We will now make mention of some of his more personal traits,
and of some of the names of his followers.
SECTION
XIV - Himself
and His Circle
APOLLONIUS
is said to have been very beautiful to look upon (i 7, 12; iv 1); [Rathgeber
(G) in his Grossgriechenland und Pythagoras (Gotha 1866), a work of marvellous
bibliographical industry, refers to three supposed portraits of Apollonius (p
621). (i) In the Campidoglio Museum of the Vatican, Indicazione delle Sculture
(Roma 1840) p 68, nos 75, 76, 77; (ii) in the Musée Royal Bourbon, described
by Michel B. (Naples 1837), p 79, no 363; (iii) a contorniate reproduced by
Visconti. I cannot trace his first reference, but in a Guide pour le Musée
Royal Bourbon, traduit par C.J.J. (Naples 1831), I find on p 152 that no 363
is a bust of Apollonius, 2¾ feet high, carefully executed, with a Zeus-like
head, having a beard and long hair descending onto his shoulders, bound with
a deep fillet. The bust seems to be ancient. I have, however, not been able
to find a reproduction of it. Visconti (E.Q) in the atlas of his Iconographic
Grecque (Paris 1808), vol i plate 17, facing p 68, gives the reproduction of
a contorniate, or medal with a circular border, on one side of which is a head
of Apollonius and the Latin legend APOLLONIVS TEANEVS. This also represents
our philosopher with a beard and long hair; the head is crowned, and the upper
part of the body covered with a tunic and the philosopher’s cloak. The
medal, however, is of very inferior workmanship, and the portrait is by no means
pleasing. Visconti in his letterpress devotes an angry and contemptuous paragraph
to Apollonius, “ce trop célèbre imposteur,” as he
calls him, based on De Tillemont.] but beyond this we have no very definite
description of his person. His manner was ever mild and gentle (i 36; ii 22)
and modest (iv 31; viii 15), and in this, says Damis, he was more like an Indian
than a Greek (iii 36); yet occasionally he burst out indignantly against some
special enormity (iv 30). His mood was often pensive (i 34), and when not speaking
he would remain for long plunged in deep thought, during which his eyes were
steadfastly fixed on the ground (i 10 et al.).
Though, as we have seen, he was inflexibly stern with himself, he was ever ready to make
excuses for others; if, on the one hand, he praised the courage of those few who remained
with him at Rome, on the other he refused to blame for their cowardice the many who had
fled (iv 38). Nor was his gentleness shown simply by abstention from blame, he was ever
active in positive deeds of compassion (cf vi 39).
One of his little peculiarities was a liking to be addressed as “Tyanean” (vii 38), but why this
was so we are not told. It can hardly have been that Apollonius was particularly proud of
his birth-place, for even though he was a great lover of Greece, so that at times you would
call him an enthusiastic patriot, his love for other countries was quite as pronounced.
Apollonius was a citizen of the world, if there has ever been one, into whose speech the
word native-land did not enter, and a priest of universal religion in whose vocabulary the
word sect did not exist.
In spite of his extremely ascetic life he was a man of strong physique, so that even when
he has reached the ripe age of four-score years, we are told, he was sound and healthy
in every limb and organ, upright and perfectly formed. There was also a certain indefinite
charm about him that made him more pleasant to look upon than even the freshness of
youth, and this even though his face was furrowed with wrinkles, just as the statues in the
temple of Tyana represented him in the time of Philostratus. In fact, says his rhetorical
biographer, report sang higher praises over the charm of Apollonius in his old age than
over the beauty of Alcibiades in his youth (viii 29).
In brief, our philosopher seems to have been of a most charming presence and lovable
disposition; nor was his absolute devotion to philosophy of the nature of the hermit ideal,
for he passed his life among men. What wonder then that he attracted to himself many
followers and disciples! It would have been interesting if Philostratus had told us more
about these “Apollonians,” as they were called (viii 21), and whether they constituted a
distinct school, or whether they were grouped together in communities on the Pythagorean
model, or whether they were simply independent students attracted to the most
commanding personality of the times in the domain of philosophy. It is, however, certain
that many of them wore the same dress as himself and followed his mode of life (iv 39).
Repeated mention is also made of their accompanying Apollonius on his travels (iv 47; v
21; viii 19, 21, 24), sometimes as many as ten of them at the same time, but none of them
were allowed to address others until they had fulfilled the vow of silence (v 43).
The most distinguished of his followers were Musonius, who was considered the greatest
philosopher of the time after the Tyanean, and who was the special victim of Nero’s tyranny
(iv 44; v 19; vii 16), and Demetrius, “who loved Apollonius” (iv 25, 42; v 19; vi 31; vii 10; viii
10). These names are well known to history; of names otherwise unknown are the Egyptian
Dioscorides, who was left behind owing to weak health on the long journey to Ethiopia (iv
11, 38; v 43), Menippus, whom he had freed from an obsession (iv 25, 38; v 43),
Phædimus (iv 11), and Nilus, who joined him from Gymnosophists (v 10 sqq., 28), and of
course Damis, who would have us think that he was always with him from the time of their
meeting at Ninus.
On the whole we are inclined to think that Apollonius did not establish any fresh
organization; he made use of those already existing, and his disciples were those who
were attracted to him personally by an overmastering affection which could only be
satisfied by being continually near him. This much seems certain, that he trained no one
to carry on his task; he came and went, helping and illuminating, but he handed on no
tradition of a definite line, and founded no school to be continued by successors. Even to
his ever faithful companion, when bidding him farewell for what he knew would be the last
time for Damis on earth, he had no word to say about the work to which he had devoted
his life, but which Damis had never understood. His last words were for Damis alone, for
the man who had loved him, but who had never known him. It was a promise to come to
him if he needed help. “Damis, whenever you think on high matters in solitary meditation,
you shall see me” (viii 28).
We will next turn our attention to a consideration of some of the sayings ascribed to
Appolonius and the speeches put into his mouth by Philostratus. The shorter sayings are
in all probability authentically traditional, but the speeches are for the most part manifestly
the artistic working-up of the rough notes of Damis. In fact, they are definitely declared to
be so; but they are none the less interesting on this account, and for two reasons.
In the first place, they honestly avow their nature, and make no claim of inspiration; they
are confessedly human documents which endeavour to give a literary dress to the
traditional body of thought and endeavour which the life of the philosopher built into the
minds of his hearers. The method was common to antiquity, and the ancient compilers of
certain other series of famous documents would have been struck with amazement had
they been able to see how posterity would divinise their efforts and regard them as
immediately inspired by the source of all wisdom.
In the second place, although we are not to suppose that we are reading the actual words
of Apollonius, we are nevertheless conscious of being in immediate contact with the inner
atmosphere of the best religious thought of the Greek mind, and have before our eyes the
picture of a mystic and spiritual fermentation which leavened all strata of society in the first
century of our era.
SECTION
XV - From
His Sayings and Sermons
APOLLONIUS believed in prayer, but how differently from the vulgar. For him the idea that
the Gods could be swayed from the path of rigid justice by the entreaties of men, was a
blasphemy; that the Gods could be made parties to our selfish hopes and fears was to our
philosopher unthinkable. One thing alone he knew, that the Gods were the ministers of
right and the rigid dispensers of just desert. The common belief, which has persisted to our
own day, that God can be swayed from His purpose, that compacts could be made with
Him or with His ministers, was entirely abhorrent to Apollonius. Beings with whom such
pacts could be made, who could be swayed and turned, were not Gods but less than men.
And so we find Apollonius as a youth conversing with one of the priests of Æsculapius as
follows:
“Since
then the Gods know all things, I think that one who enters the temple with
a right conscience within him should pray thus: ‘Give me, ye Gods, what
is my due!’ “ (i II).
And thus again on his long journey to India he prayed at Babylon: “God of the sun, send
thou me o’er the earth so far as e’er ‘tis good for Thee and me; and may I come to know
the good, and never know the bad nor they know me” (i 31).
One
of his most general prayers, Damis tells us, was to this effect: “Grant
me, ye Gods, to have little and need naught” (i 34).
“When
you enter the temples, for what do you pray?” asked the Pontifex Maximus
Telesinus of our philosopher. “I pray,” said Apollonius, “that
righteousness may rule, the laws remain unbroken, the wise be poor and others
rich, but honestly” (iv 40).
The belief of the philosopher in the grand ideal of having nothing and yet possessing all
things, is exemplified by his reply to the officer who asked him how he dared enter the
dominions of Babylon without permission. “The whole earth,” said Apollonius, “is mine; and
it is given me to journey through it” (i 21).
There are many instances of sums of money being offered to Apollonius for his services,
but he invariably refused them; not only so but his followers also refused all presents. On
the occasion when King Vardan, with true Oriental generosity, offered them gifts, they
turned away; whereupon Apollonius said: “You see, my hands, though many, are all like
each other.” And when the king asked Apollonius what present he would bring him back
from India, our philosopher replied: “A gift that will please you, sire. For if my stay there
should make me wiser, I shall come back to you better than I am” (i 41).
When they were crossing the great mountains into India a conversation is said to have
taken place between Apollonius and Damis, which presents us with a good instance of how
our philosopher ever used the incidents of the day to inculcate the higher lessons of life.
The question was concerning the “below” and “above.” Yesterday, said Damis, we were
below in the valley; today we are above, high on the mountains, not far distant from
heaven. So this is what you mean by “below” and “above,” said Apollonius gently. Why, of
course, impatiently retorted Damis, if I am in my right mind; what need of such useless
questions? And have you acquired a greater knowledge of the divine nature by being
nearer heaven on the tops of the mountains? continued his master. Do you think that those
who observe the heaven from the mountain heights are any nearer the understanding of
things? Truth to tell, replied Damis, somewhat crestfallen, I did think I should come down
wiser, for I’ve been up a higher mountain than any of them, but I fear I know no more than
before I ascended it. Nor do other men, replied Apollonius; “such observations make them
see the heavens more blue, the stars more large, and the sun rise from the night, things
known to those who tend the sheep and goats; but how God doth take thought for human
kind, and how He doth find pleasure in their service, and what is virtue, righteousness and
commonsense, that neither Athos will reveal to those who scale his summit nor yet
Olympus who stirs the poet’s wonder, unless it be the soul perceive them; for should the
soul when pure and unalloyed essay such heights, I swear to thee, she wings her flight far
far beyond this lofty Caucasus” (ii 6).
So again, when at Thermopylæ his followers were disputing as to which was the highest
ground in Greece, Mt Œta being then in view. They happened to be just at the foot of the
hill on which the Spartans fell overwhelmed with arrows. Climbing to the top of it Apollonius
cried out: “And I think this the highest ground, for those who fell here for freedom’s sake
have made it high as Œta and raised it far above a thousand of Olympuses” (iv 23).
Another instance of how Apollonius turned chance happenings to good account is the
following. Once at Ephesus, in one of the covered walks near the city, he was speaking of
sharing our goods with others, and how we ought mutually to help one another. It chanced
that a number of sparrows were sitting on a tree hard by in perfect silence. Suddenly
another sparrow flew up and began chirping, as though it wanted to tell the others
something. Whereupon the little fellow all set to a-chirping also, and flew away after the
newcomer. Apollonius’ superstitious audience were greatly struck by this conduct of the
sparrows, and thought it was an augury of some important matter. But the philosopher
continued with his sermon. The sparrow, he said, has invited his friends to a banquet. A
boy slipped down in a lane hard by and spilt some corn he was carrying in a bowl; he
picked up most of it and went away. The little sparrow, chancing on the scattered grains,
immediately flew off to invite his friends to the feast.
Thereon most of the crowd went off at a run to see if it were true, and when they came
back shouting and all agog with wonderment, the philosopher continued: “Ye see what care
the sparrows take of one another, and how happy they are to share their goods. And yet
we men do not approve; nay, if we see a man sharing his goods with other men, we call
it wastefulness, extravagance, and by such names, and dub the men to whom he gives a
share, fawners and parasites. What then is left to us except to shut us up at home like
fattening birds, and gorge our bellies in the dark until we burst with fat?” (iv 3).
On
another occasion, at Smyrna, Apollonius, seeing a ship getting under weigh,
used the occasion for teaching the people the lesson of cooperation. “Behold
the vessel’s crew!” he said. “How some have manned the boats,
some raise the anchors up and make them fast, some set the sails to catch the
wind, how others yet again look out at bow and stern. But if a single man should
fail to do a single one of these his duties, or bungle in his seamanship, their
sailing will be bad, and they will have the storm among them. But if they strive
in rivalry each with the other, their only strife being that no man shall seem
worse than his mates, fair havens shall there be for such a ship, and all good
weather and fair voyage crowd in upon it” (iv 9).
Again,
on another occasion, at Rhodes, Damis asked him if he thought anything greater
than the famous Colossus. “I do,” replied Apollonius; “the
man who walks in wisdom's guileless paths that give us health” (v 21).
There is also a number of instances of witty or sarcastic answers reported of our
philosopher, and indeed, in spite of his generally grave mood, he not unfrequently rallied
his hearers, and sometimes, if we may say so, chaffed the foolishness out of them (see
especially iv 30).
Even in times of great danger this characteristic shows itself. A good instance is his answer
to the dangerous question of Tigellinus, “What think you of Nero?” “I think better of him
than you do,” retorted Apollonius, “for you think he ought to sing, and I think he ought to
keep silence” (iv 44).
So again his reproof to a young Crœsus of the period is as witty as it is wise. “Young sir,”
he said, “methinks it is not you who own your house, but your house you” (v 22).
Of the same style also is his answer to a glutton who boasted of his gluttony. He copied
Hercules, he said, who was as famous for the food he ate as for his labours.
“Yes,”
said Apollonius, “for he was Hercules. But you, what virtue have
you, midden-heap? Your only claim to notice is your chance of being burst”
(iv 23).
But to turn to more serious occasions. In answer to Vespasian’s earnest prayer, “Teach me
what should a good king do,” Apollonius is said to have replied somewhat in the following
words:
“You
ask me what can not be taught. For kingship is the greatest thing within a
mortal’s reach; it is not taught. Yet will I tell you what if you will
do, you will do well. Count not that wealth which is stored up - in what is
this superior to the sand haphazard heaped? nor that which comes from men
to groan beneath taxation's heavy weight - for gold that comes from tears
is base and black. You’ll use wealth best of any king, if you supply
the needs of those in want and make their wealth secure for those with many
goods. Be fearful of the power to do whate’er you please, so will you
use it with more prudence. Do not lop off the ears of corn that show beyond
the rest and raise their heads - for Aristotle is not just in this [See Chassang,
op. cit., p 458, for a criticism on this statement.]—but rather weed
their disaffection out like tares from corn, and show yourself a fear to stirrers
up of strife not in ‘I punish you’ but in ‘ I will
do so.’ Submit yourself to law, O prince, for you will make the laws
with greater wisdom if you do not despise the law yourself. Pay reverence
more than ever to the Gods; great are the gifts you have received from them,
and for great things you pray. [This was before Vespasian became emperor.]
In what concerns the state act as a king; in what concerns yourself, act as
a private man”
(v 36).
And so on much in the same strain, all good advice and showing a deep knowledge
of human affairs. And if we are to suppose that this is merely a rhetorical
exercise of Philostratus and not based on the substance of what Apollonius said,
then we must have a higher opinion of the rhetorician than the rest of his writings
warrant.
There is an exceedingly interesting Socratic dialogue between Thespesion, the abbot of
the Gymnosophist community, and Apollonius on the comparative merits of the Greek and
Egyptian ways of representing the Gods. It runs somewhat as follows;
“What!
Are we to think,” said Thespesion, “that the Pheidiases and Praxiteleses
went up to heaven and took impressions of the forms of the Gods, and so made
an art of them, or was it something else that set them a-modeling?”
“Yes,
something else,” said Apollonius, “something pregnant with wisdom.”
“What
was that? Surely you cannot say it was anything else but imitation?”
“Imagination
wrought them - a workman wiser far than imitation; for imitation only makes
what it has seen, whereas imagination makes what it has never seen, conceiving
it with reference to the thing it really is.”
Imagination, says Apollonius, is one of the most potent faculties, for it enables us to reach
nearer to realities. It is generally supposed that Greek sculpture was merely a glorification
of physical beauty, in itself quite unspiritual. It was an idealisation of form and features,
limbs and muscles, an empty glorification of the physical with nothing of course really
corresponding to it in the nature of things. But Apollonius declared it brings us nearer to
the real, as Pythagoras and Plato declared before him, and as all the wiser teach. He
meant this literally, not vaguely and fantastically. He asserted that the types and ideas of
things are the only realities. He meant that between the imperfection of the earth and the
highest divine type of all things, were grades of increasing perfection. He meant that within
each man was a form of perfection, though of course not yet absolutely perfect. That the
angel in man, his dæmon, was of God-like beauty, the summation of all the finest features
he had ever worn in his many lives on earth. The Gods, too, belonged to the world of types,
of models, of perfections , the heaven-world. The Greek sculptors had succeeded in
getting in contact with this world, and the faculty they used was imagination.
This idealisation of form was a worthy way to represent the Gods; but, says Apollonius, if
you set up a hawk or owl or dog in your temples, to represent Hermes or Athena or Apollo,
you may dignify the animals, but you make the Gods lose dignity.
To this Thespesion replies that the Egyptians dare not give any precise form to the Gods;
they give them merely symbols to which an occult meaning is attached.
Yes, answers Apollonius, but the danger is that the common people worship these symbols
and get unbeautiful ideas of the Gods. The best thing would be to have no representations
at all. For the mind of the worshipper can form and fashion for himself an image of the
object of his worship better than any art.
Quite
so, retorted Thespesion, and then added mischievously: There was an old Athenian,
by-the-by - no fool - called Socrates, who swore by the dog and goose as though
they were Gods.
Yes, replied Apollonius, he was no fool. He swore by them not as being Gods, but in order
that he might not swear by the Gods (iv 19).
This is a pleasant passage of wit, of Egyptian against Greek, but all such set arguments
must be set down to the rhetorical exercises of Philostratus rather than to Apollonius, who
taught as “one having authority,” as “from a tripod.” Apollonius, a priest of universal
religion, might have pointed out the good side and the bad side of both Greek and Egyptian
religious art, and certainly taught the higher way of symbol-less worship, but he would not
champion one popular cult against another. In the above speech there is a distinct
prejudice against Egypt and a glorification of Greece, and this occurs in a very marked
fashion in several other speeches. Philostratus was a champion of Greece against all
comers; but Apollonius, we believe, was wiser than his biographer.
In spite of the artificial literary dress that is given to the longer discourses of Apollonius,
they contain many noble thoughts, as we may see from the following quotations from the
conversations of our philosopher with his friend Demetrius, who was endeavouring to
dissuade him from braving Domitian at Rome.
The law, said Apollonius, obliges us to die for liberty, and nature ordains that we should die
for our parents, our friends, or our children. All men are bound by these duties. But a
higher duty is laid upon the sage; he must die for his principles and the truth he holds
dearer than life. It is not the law that lays this choice upon him, it is not nature; it is the
strength and courage of his own soul. Though fire or sword threaten him, it will not
overcome his resolution or force him from the slightest falsehood; but he will guard the
secrets of others’ lives and all that has been entrusted to his honour as religiously as the
secrets of initiation. And I know more than other men, for I know that of all that I know, I
know some things for the good, some for the wise, some for myself, some for the Gods,
but naught for tyrants.
Again, I think that a wise man does nothing alone or by himself; no thought of his so secret
but that he has himself as witness to it. And whether the famous saying “know thyself” be
from Apollo or from some sage who learnt to know himself and proclaimed it as a good for
all, I think the wise man who knows himself and has his own spirit in constant comradeship,
to fight at his right hand, will neither cringe at what the vulgar fear, nor dare to do what
most men do without the slightest shame (vii 15).
In
the above we have the true philosopher’s contempt for death, and also
the calm knowledge of the initiate, of the comforter and adviser of others to
whom the secrets of their lives have been confessed, that no tortures can ever
unseal his lips. Here, too, we have the full knowledge of what consciousness
is, of the impossibility of hiding the smallest trace of evil in the inner world;
and also the dazzling brilliancy of a higher ethic which makes the habitual
conduct of the crowd appear surprising - the“that which they do - not
with shame.”
SECTION
XVI - From
His Letters
APOLLONIUS
seems to have written many letters to emperors, kings, philosophers, communities
and states, although he was by no means a “voluminous correspondent”;
in fact, the style of his short notes is exceedingly concise, and they were
composed, as Philostratus says, “after the manner of the Lacedæmonian
scytale” [This was a staff, or baton, used as a cypher for writing dispatches.
“A strip of leather was rolled slantwise round it, on which the dispatches
were written lengthwise, so that when unrolled they were unintelligible; commanders
abroad had a staff of like thickness, round which they rolled their papers,
and so were able to read the dispatches.” (Liddell and Scott’s Lexicon
sub voc.) Hence scytale came to mean generally a Spartan dispatch, which was
characteristically laconin in its brevity.] (iv 27 and vii 35).
It
is evident that Philostratus had access to letters attributed to Apollonius,
for he quotes a number of them, [See i 7, 15, 24, 32; iii 51; iv 5, 22, 26,
27, 46; v 2, 10, 39, 40, 41; vi 18, 27, 29, 31, 33; viii 7, 20, 27, 28.], and
there seems no reason to doubt their authenticity. Whence he obtained them does
not inform us, unless it be that they were the collection made by Hadrian at
Antium (viii 20).
That the reader may be able to judge of the style of Apollonius we append one or two
specimens of these letters, or rather notes, for they are too short to deserve the title of
epistles. Here is one to the magistrates of Sparta:
“Apollonius
to the Ephors, greeting!
“It
is possible for men not to make mistakes, but it requires noble men to acknowledge
they have made them.”
All of which Apollonius gets into just half as many words in Greek. Here, again, is an
interchange of notes between the two greatest philosophers of the time, both of whom
suffered imprisonment and were in constant danger of death.
“Apollonius
to Musonius, the philosopher, greeting!
“I
want to go to you, to share speech and roof with you, to be of some service
to you. If you still believe that Hercules once rescued Theseus from Hades,
write what you would have. Farewell!”
“Musonius
to Apollonius, the philosopher, greeting!
“Good
merit shall be stored for you for your good thoughts; what is in store for
me is one who waits his trial and proves his innocence. Farewell.”
“Apollonius
to Musonius, greeting!
“Socrates
refused to be got out of prison by his friends and went before the judges.
He was put to death. Farewell.”
“Musonius
to Apollonius, the philosopher, greeting!
“Socrates
was put to death because he made no preparation for his defence. I shall
do so. Farewell!”
However, Musonius, the Stoic, was sent to penal servitude by Nero.
Here is a note to the Cynic Demetrius, another of our philosopher’s most devoted friends.
“Apollonius,
the philosopher, to Demetrius, the Dog, [I.e., Cynic.] greeting!
“I
give thee to Titus, the emperor, to teach him the way of kingship, and do
you in turn give me to speak him true; and be to him all things but anger.
Farewell!”
In
addition to the notes quoted in the text of Philostratus, there is a collection
of ninety-five letters, mostly brief notes, the text of which is printed in
most editions. [Chassang (op cit., pp 395 sqq) gives a French translation of
them.] Nearly all the critics are of opinion that they are not genuine, but
Jowett [Art. “Apollonius,” Smith’s Dict of Class Biog.] and
others think that some of them may very well be genuine.
Here
is a specimen or two of these letters. Writing to Euphrates, his great enemy,
that is to say Champion of pure rationalistic ethic against the science of sacred
things, he says:
17.
“The Persians call those who have the divine faculty (or are god-like)
Magi. A Magus, then, is one who is a minister of the Gods, or one who has
by nature the god-like faculty. You are no Magus but reject the Gods (i.e.,
are an atheist).”
Again, in a letter addressed to Criton, we read:
23.
“Pythagoras said that the most divine art was that of healing. And if
the healing art is most divine, it must occupy itself with the soul as well
as with the body; for no creature can be sound so long as the higher part
in it is sickly.”
Writing
to the priests of Delphi against the practice of blood-sacrifice, he says:
27.
“Heraclitus was a sage, but even he [That is to say, a philosopher of
600 years ago.] never advised the people of Ephesus to wash out mud with mud.”
[That is to expiate blood-guiltiness with blood-sacrifice.]
Again, to some who claimed to be his followers, those “who think themselves wise,” he
writes the reproof:
43.
“If any say he is my disciple, then let him add he keeps himself apart
out of the Baths, he slays no living thing, eats of no flesh, is free from
envy, malice, hatred, calumny, and hostile feelings, but has his name inscribed
among the race of those who’ve won their freedom.”
Among
these letters is found one of some length addressed to Valerius, probably P.
Valerius Asiaticus, consul in A.D. 70. It is a wise letter of philosophic consolation
to enable Valerius to bear the loss of his son, and runs as follows: [Chaignet
(A. É), in his Pythagore et la Philosophie pythagoricienne (Paris 1873,
2nd ed 1874), cites this as a genuine example of Apollonius philosophy.]
“There
is no death of anyone, but only in appearance, even as there is no birth of
any, save only in seeming. The change from being to becoming seems to be birth,
and the change from becoming to being seems to be death, but in reality no
one is ever born, nor does one ever die. It is simply a being visible and
then invisible; the former through the density of matter, and the latter because
of the subtlety of being - being which is ever the same, its only change being
motion and rest. For being has this necessary peculiarity, that its change
is brought about by nothing external to itself; but whole becomes parts and
parts become whole in the oneness of the all. And if it be asked: What is
this which sometimes is seen and sometimes not seen, now in the same, now
in the different?—it might be answered: It is the way of everything
here in the world below that when it is filled out with matter it is visible,
owing to the resistance of its density, but is invisible, owing to its subtlety,
when it is rid of matter, though matter still surround it and flow through
it in that immensity of space which hems it in but knows no birth or death.
“But
why has this false notion [of birth and death] remained so long without a
refutation? Some think that what has happened through them, they have themselves
brought about. They are ignorant that the individual is brought to birth through
parents, not by parents, just as a thing produced through the earth
is not produced from it. The change which comes to the individual is
nothing that is caused by his visible surroundings, but rather a change in
the one thing which is in every individual.
“And
what other name can we give to it but primal being? ‘Tis it alone that
acts and suffers becoming all for all through all, eternal deity, deprived
and wronged of its own self by names and forms. But this is a less serious
thing than that a man should be bewailed, when he has passed from man to God
by change of state and not by the destruction of his nature. The fact is that
so far from mourning death you ought to honour it and reverence it. The best
and the fittest way for you to honour death is now to leave the one who’s
gone to God, and set to work to play the ruler over those left in your charge
as you were wont to do. It would be a disgrace for such a man as you to owe
your cure to time and not to reason, for time makes even common people cease
from grief. The greatest things is a strong rule, and of the greatest rulers
he is best who first can rule himself. And how is it permissible to wish to
change what has been brought to pass by will of God? If there’s a law
in things, and there is one, and it is God who has appointed it, the
righteous man will have no wish to try to change good things, for such a wish
is selfishness, and counter to the law, but he will think that all that comes
to pass is a good thing. On! heal yourself, give justice to the wretched and
console them; so shall you dry your tears. You should not set your private
woes above your public cares, but rather set your public cares before your
private woes. And see as well what consolation you already have! The nation
sorrows with you for your son. Make some return to those who weep with you;
and this you will more quickly do if you will cease from tears than if you
still persist. Have you not friends? Why! you have yet another son. Have you
not even still the one that’s gone? You have!—will answer anyone
who really thinks. For ‘that which is’ doth cease not - nayis
just for the very fact that it will be for aye; or else the ‘is not’
is, and how could that be when the ‘is’ doth never cease to be?
“Again
it will be said you fail in piety to God and are unjust. ‘Tis true.
You fail in piety to God, you fail in justice to your boy; nay more, you fail
in piety to him as well. Would’st know what death is? Then make me dead
and send me off to company with death, and if you will not change the dress
you’ve put on it, [That is his idea of death.] you will have straightway
made me better than yourself.” [The text of the last sentence is very
obscure].
SECTION
XVII - The
Writings of Apollonius
BUT
besides these letters Apollonius also wrote a number of treatises, of which,
however, only one or two fragments have been preserved. These treatises are
as follows:
a.
The Mystic Rites or Concerning Sacrifices. [The full title is given by Eudocia,
Ionia; ed. Villoison (Venet 1781) p 57] This treatise is mentioned by Philostratus
(iii 41; iv 19), who tells us that it set down the proper method of sacrifice
to every God, the proper hours of prayer and offering. It was in wide circulation,
and Philostratus had come across copies of it in many temples and cities, and
in the libraries of philosophers. Several fragments of it have been preserved,
[See Zeller, Phil d Griech, v 127] the most important of which is to be found
in Eusebius, [Præparat. Evangel., iv 12-13; ed Dindorf (Leipzig 1867),
i 176, 177] and is to this effect: “ ‘Tis best to make no sacrifice
to God at all, no lighting of a fire, no calling Him by any name that men employ
for things to sense. For God is over all, the first; and only after Him do come
the other Gods. For He doth stand in need of naught e’en from the Gods,
much less from us small men - naught that the earth brings forth, nor any life
she nurseth, or even any thing the stainless air contains. The only fitting
sacrifice to God is man’s best reason, and not the word [A play on the
meanings of λσγος, which signifies both reason and
word.] that comes from out his mouth.
“We
men should ask the best of beings through the best thing in us, for what is
good - mean by means of mind, for mind needs no material things to make its
prayer. So then, to God, the mighty One, who’s over all, no sacrifice
should ever be lit up.”
Noack
[Psyche, I ii.5.] tells us that scholarship is convinced of the genuineness
of this fragment. This book, as we have seen, was widely circulated and held
in the highest respect, and it said that its rules were engraved on brazen pillars
at Byzantium. [Noack, ibid.]
b.
The Oracles or Concerning Divination, 4 books. Philostratus (iii 41)
seems to think that the full title was Divination of the Stars, and says that
it was based on what Apollonius had learned in India; but the kind of
divination Apollonius wrote about was not the ordinary astrology, but something
which Philostratus considers superior to ordinary human art in such matters.
He had, however, never heard of anyone possessing a copy of this rare work.
c.
The Life of Pythagoras. Porphyry refers to this work, 8 [See Noack,
Porphr. Vit. Pythag., p 15] and Iamblichus quotes a long passage from it. [Ed.
Amstelod., 1707, cc 254-264]
d.
The Will of Apollonius, to which reference has already been made, in
treating of the sources of Philostratus (i 3). This was written in the Ionic
dialect, and contained a summary of his doctrines.
A
Hymn to Memory is also ascribed to him, and Eudocia speaks of many other(
και αλλαπολλα) works.
We
have now indicated for the reader all the information which exists concerning
our philosopher. Was Apollonius, then, a rogue, a trickster, a charlatan, a
fanatic, a misguided enthusiast, or a philosopher, a reformer, a conscious worker,
a true initiate, one of the earth’s great ones? This each must decide
for himself, according to his knowledge or his ignorance.
I for my part bless his memory, and would gladly learn from him, as now he is.
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