{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_66555/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_66555","id":"gutenberg_66555","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66555","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Archaeology & Anthropology","Category: History - Ancient","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Greece -- Religion"],"text":"Psyche\n\nThe Cult of Souls and Belief in Immortality among the Greeks\n\n\nBy\n\nERWIN ROHDE\n\n\n\nLONDON\nKEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO., LTD.\nNEW YORK: HARCOURT, BRACE & COMPANY, INC.\n1925\n\n\n\nTranslated from the eighth edition by\n\nW. B. HILLIS. M.A.\n\n\n_Printed in Great Britain by Stephen Austin & Sons, Ltd., Hertford._\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n PAGE.\n\n\n PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . VII\n PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . XI\n PRELIMINARY NOTE TO THE SEVENTH AND EIGHTH EDITION XIII\n TRANSLATOR'S NOTE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . XV\n\nPART I\n\nCHAP.\n I. BELIEFS ABOUT THE SOUL AND CULT OF SOULS IN THE HOMERIC\n POEMS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3\n II. ISLANDS OF THE BLEST. _Translation_ . . . . . . . . . 55\n III. CAVE DEITIES. SUBTERRANEAN _Translation_ . . . . . . 88\n IV. HEROES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 115\n V. THE CULT OF SOULS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 156\n I. Cult of Chthonic Deities . . . . . . . . . . . 158\n II. Funeral ceremonies and worship of the dead . . 162\n III. Traces of the Cult of Souls in the Blood Feud\n and Satisfaction for murder . . . . . . . 174\n VI. THE ELEUSINIAN MYSTERIES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 217\n VII. IDEAS OF THE FUTURE LIFE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 236\n\nPART II\n\nVIII. ORIGINS OF THE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY. THE THRACIAN WORSHIP\n OF DIONYSOS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 253\n IX. DIONYSIAC RELIGION IN GREECE. ITS AMALGAMATION WITH\n APOLLINE RELIGION. ECSTATIC PROPHECY. RITUAL\n PURIFICATION AND EXORCISM. ASCETICISM . . . . . . . . 282\n X. THE ORPHICS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 335\n XI. THE PHILOSOPHERS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 362\n XII. THE LAY AUTHORS (LYRIC POETS--PINDAR--THE TRAGEDIANS) . . 411\n{vi}\nXIII. PLATO . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 463\n XIV. THE LATER AGE OF THE GREEK WORLD . . . . . . . . . . . . . 490\n I. Philosophy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 490\n II. Popular Belief . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 524\n\nAPPENDIX\n I. Consecration of persons struck by lightning . . . . . . . 581\n II. ~maschalismo/s~ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 582\n III. ~amu/\u00eatoi, a/gamoi~, Danaids in the lower world . . . . . 586\n IV. The Tetralogies of Antiphon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 588\n V. Ritual Purification . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 588\n VI. Hekate and the ~Hekatika\\ pha/smata~ . . . . . . . . . . . 590\n VII. The Hosts of Hekate . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 593\nVIII. Disintegration of Consciousness and Reduplication of\n Personality . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 595\n IX. The Great Orphic Theogony . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 596\n X. Previous Lives of Pythagoras. His Descent to Hades . . . . 598\n XI. Initiation considered as Adoption by the god . . . . . . . 601\n XII. Magical Exorcisms of the Dead . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 603\n\n\n{{vii}}\n\nPREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION\n\n\nTHIS book offers an account of the opinions held by the Greeks about\nthe life of the human soul after death, and is thus intended as a\ncontribution to the history of Greek religion. Such an undertaking\nhas in a special measure to contend with the difficulties that face\nany inquiry into the religious life and thought of the Greeks. Greek\nreligion was a natural growth, not a special foundation, and the\nideas and feelings which gave it its inward tone and outward shape\nnever received abstract formulation. It expressed itself in\nreligious performances alone: it had no sacred books from which we\nmight determine the inward meaning and interconnexion of the ideas\nwith which the Greeks approached the gods created by their faith.\nThe central essence of the religion held by the Greek people, in\nspite of this absence of conceptual formulation--or perhaps because\nof it--preserved its original character to a remarkable degree: the\nspeculations and fancies of Greek poets continually refer to this\ncentral nucleus. Indeed the poets and philosophers in such of their\nwritings as have come down to us are our only authorities for the\nreligious thought of the Greeks. In the present inquiry they have\nnaturally had to be our guides for the greater part of the way. But\nthough under the special conditions of Greek life the religious\nviews of poets and philosophers represent an important side of Greek\nreligion, they yet allow us to perceive very clearly the independent\nand self-determined position with regard to the ancestral religion\nretained by the individual. The individual believer might always, if\nhis own temper and disposition allowed him, give himself up to the\nplain and unsophisticated emotions which had shaped and decided the\nfaith of the people and the religious performances of popular\n~euse/beia~. But we should know very little of the religious ideas\nthat filled the mind of the believing Greek if we had to do without\nthe evidence of philosophers and poets (and of some Attic orators as\nwell) in whose words dumb and inarticulate emotion finds expression.\nThe inquirer would, however, be entirely on the wrong track {viii}\nand be led to some remarkable conclusions who ventured without more\nado to deduce from the religious ideas that find expression in Greek\nliterature a complete Theology of the Greek _people_. Where direct\nliterary statements and allusions fail us we are left with nothing\nbut surmises in face of the religion of the Greeks and its inmost\nguiding forces. Of course there are plenty of people of sanguine\ntemperament and industrious fancy who find no difficulty in\nproducing for our benefit the most admirable solutions of the\nproblem. Others in varying degrees of good faith press the emotions\nof Christian piety into the service of explaining ancient faith in\ngods. Thus injustice is done to both forms of religion and an\nunderstanding of the essentials of Greek belief in its true and\nindependent reality is made completely impossible. A good example of\nthis is provided by the Eleusinian Mysteries, and by that favourite\ntopic of controversy (which has, indeed, received more than its due\nshare of attention from students of religion), the amalgamation of\nthe worship of gods and the belief in Souls said to have taken place\ntherein. Nowhere else has the complete unprofitableness of the\nattempt to make use of the shifting ideas and tendencies of modern\ncivilization to explain the underlying motive forces of these\nsignificant cult practices, been more strikingly and repeatedly\ndemonstrated. On this head in particular the author of the present\nwork has renounced all attempts to cast a fitful and ambiguous light\nupon the venerable gloom of the subject by the help of the farthing\ndip of his own private imaginings. There is no denying that here as\nin so many departments of ancient ~euse/beia~ there is something\ngreater and finer that eludes our grasp. The revealing word, never\nhaving been written down, has been lost. Instead of trying to find a\nsubstitute in modern catch phrases it seems better simply to\ndescribe, in the plainest and most literal fashion, the actual\nphenomena of Greek piety exactly as they are known to us. There will\nbe plenty of opportunity for the author's own suggestions and they\nneed not always obtrude themselves. The aim of this work is to make\nplain the facts of the Greek _Cult of Souls_ and of that belief in\nimmortality the inner workings of which are only partially\nintelligible to our most sympathetic efforts to understand them. To\ngive a clearer presentation of the origin and development of those\npractices and those beliefs; to distinguish the transformations\nthrough which they passed and their relationship with other and\nkindred intellectual tendencies; to disentangle the many different\nlines of thought and speculation from the inextricable {ix}\nconfusion in which they lie in many minds (and in many books) and to\nlet them stand out clearly and distinctly one from another, seemed\nparticularly desirable. Why this design has not been carried out by\nthe same methods throughout; why it has sometimes seemed sufficient\nto give a bald summary of the essential points, while at other times\ncertain topics are pursued into their most distant ramifications\n(sometimes with apparently irrelevant prolixity), will be obvious\nenough to those who are familiar with the subject. Where a more\ncareful examination of the overflowing mass of detail was to be\nattempted advantage has been taken of the Appendix to achieve a\ngreater, though still only a relative degree of completeness. This\nwas made possible by the lengthy period which elapsed between the\npublication of the two parts of the book. The first half [to the end\nof chapter vii] appeared as long ago as the spring of 1890.\nUnpropitious circumstances have delayed the completion of the\nremainder till the present moment. The two parts could easily be\nkept separate (as they have been): in the main they fall apart and\ncorrespond to the two sides of the question indicated in the title\nof the book--Cult of Souls and Belief in Immortality. The Cult of\nSouls and the faith in immortality may eventually come together at\nsome points, but they have a different origin and travel most of the\nway on separate paths. The conception of immortality in particular\narises from a spiritual intuition which reveals the souls of men as\nstanding in close relationship, and indeed as being of like\nsubstance, with the everlasting gods. And simultaneously the gods\nare regarded as being in their nature like the soul of man, i.e. as\nfree spirits needing no material or visible body. (It is this\nspiritualized view of the gods--not the belief in gods itself as\nAristotle supposes in the remarkable statement quoted by Sextus\nEmpiricus Adv. Mathematicos, iii, 20 ff.--which arises from the\nvision of its own divine nature achieved by the soul ~kath'\nheaut\u00ea/n~ relieved of the body, in ~enthousiasmoi/~ and\n~mantei=ai~.) And this conception leads far away from the ideas on\nwhich the Cult of Souls was based.\n\nThe publication of the book in two parts has brought with it a\nregrettable circumstance for which I must ask the indulgence of\nwell-disposed readers (that the first half found so many of them is\na fact which I must gratefully acknowledge). As the dimensions of the\nwhole work grew beyond expectation and almost overstepped the\n~me/tron au/tarkes~, the sixteen excursuses which were promised in\n{x} the first volume have had to be dropped: the book would\notherwise have been overloaded. So far as they possess independent\ninterest they will find a place elsewhere. They are real excursuses\nand were intended as such, and the proper understanding of the book\nwill not be affected by their absence.\n\nERWIN ROHDE.\n\nHEIDELBERG.\n_November 1st, 1893._\n\n\n{{xi}}\n\nPREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION\n\n\nTHE publication of a second edition of this book affords me a\nwelcome opportunity of making my account more exact and to the point\nin certain places; of adding some points that had been overlooked or\nomitted; and of noticing with approval or disapproval some divergent\nopinions that had obtained currency in the interval. Controversy is,\nhowever, confined within the narrowest limits and to points of minor\nimportance (and only then in answer to more serious and significant\nobjections). The plan and--if I may say so--the style of the whole\nbook demanded throughout, and more especially in the great points at\nissue, a purely positive statement of my own views and the results\nof my own studies. Such a statement, it may well be imagined, was\nnot arrived at without being preceded in the mind of the author by a\ncontroversial reckoning with the manifold views and doctrines of\nothers upon the subjects here dealt with--views which in some cases\nhe felt obliged to reject. Controversy in this sense lies behind\nevery page of the book, though as a rule only in a latent condition.\nIn this condition I have been content to let it remain in this\nrevised edition of the book. My opinions were not arrived at without\ntoil and much careful reflection; one view being made to reinforce\nanother till they were all bound together in a single\nclosely-knitted whole. Neither further reflection on my part nor the\ncriticisms of others have shaken my belief in the tenability of\nopinions reached in this way. I have therefore ventured to leave my\naccount unaltered in all its main points. I hope that it contains\nits own justification and defence in itself without further\nvindication on my part.\n\nNothing in the plan or execution of the whole or its parts has been\naltered; neither have I taken anything away. The book contained\nnothing that was superfluous to the attainment of the object that I\nhad in view. This object, it will be apparent, was not in the least\nto provide a brief and compendious statement of the most\nindispensable facts about the cult of Souls and the belief in\nimmortality among the Greeks for the benefit of those who wished to\ntake a hasty {xii} glance over the subject. Such a hasty picker-up\nof knowledge who regards himself--I cannot imagine why--as\npeculiarly fitted to criticise my book, has ingenuously besought me,\nin view of a second edition which he was kind enough to think\nprobable, to throw overboard most of what he considered the\nsuperfluous parts of the book. With this request I have not felt\nmyself able to comply. My book was written for maturer readers who\nhave passed beyond the school stage and look for something more than\nan elementary handbook, and who would be able to understand and\nappreciate the plan and intention which led me to draw my material\nso widely from many departments of literary and cultural history.\nThe first edition of the book found many such readers: I may hope\nand expect that the second will do the same.\n\nIn its revised form the book has been divided for the convenience of\nthose who use it into two volumes (which correspond with the two\nparts in which it was first published). I was urged to take away the\nnotes that stand at the foot of the text and relegate them to a\nplace by themselves in a separate appendix. I found, however, that I\ncould not bring myself to adopt this fashionable modern practice,\nwhich so far as I have experience of it in books published in recent\nyears seems to me to be inconvenient and to hinder rather than help\nthat undisturbed appreciation of the text which such an arrangement\nis intended to serve. Independent readers who in using the book are\nworking out the subject for themselves would certainly not desire\nthe separation of the documentary evidence from the statement of the\nauthor's view. The book has also, to my peculiar satisfaction,\nattracted a large number of readers from outside the immediate\ncircle of professional philologists. Such readers have evidently not\nbeen seriously disturbed by the elaborate and perhaps rather\npedantic aspect of the mysterious disquisitions at the foot of the\npage, and have been able to fix their attention upon the clearer\nlanguage of the text above. I have therefore decided to remove a few\nonly of the notes which had grown to independent dimensions to an\nappendix at the end of each of the two volumes.\n\nERWIN ROHDE.\n\nHEIDELBERG.\n_November 27th, 1897._\n\n\n{{xiii}}\n\nPRELIMINARY NOTE TO THE SEVENTH AND EIGHTH EDITIONS\n\n\nIN supervising together this reprint of \"Psyche\" we have found\nourselves faced with the question which Sch\u00f6ll and Dieterich had to\ndecide in bringing out the third edition--whether changes or\nadditions would be admissible. It went without saying that the text\nmust remain untouched in the form last given to it by Rohde's own\nhand. Nor was it possible to make any additions to the notes without\nseriously disturbing the carefully considered architecture of the\nwhole book. It would have been more possible to add an appendix or\nsupplementary pamphlet recording the literature of the subject which\nhas appeared since 1898 and giving an account of the present state\nof the questions dealt with by Rohde: as has been done with the\n\"Griechische Roman\" by W. Schmid. But on making the attempt we soon\nfound that the problem was a different one in the case of \"Psyche\"\nwith which (much more than in the other case) all subsequent study of\nthe history of religion as pursued by all nations has had to reckon,\nand from which such study has in no small degree taken its starting\npoint. We have therefore refrained; and we have also refrained from\nremodelling the citations to make them correspond with critical\neditions that have since appeared. This process could not be carried\nthrough without, in some places, introducing contradictions with\nRohde's interpretation that would have necessitated more detailed\ndiscussion. Rohde's own method of citation was only seriously\ninconvenient in the case of Euripides: here he evidently, as we\nobserved from about the middle of the first volume onwards, made use\nof more than one edition at the same time, and has consequently\nquoted lines in accordance with different enumerations. For the\ngreater assurance and convenience of the reader the lines are\nuniformly referred to according to the numbering of Nauck. This task\nhas been undertaken by our devoted helper Frl. Emilie Boer, who has\nalso verified, with a very few exceptions, the whole of the\nreferences to ancient writers and inscriptions; {xiv} a considerable\nnumber of errors missed by the author or later editors have thus\nbeen corrected. The minor changes introduced in the third and\nfollowing editions--the recording on the margin of the pagination of\nthe first edition and the valuable enlargement of the index due to\nW. Nestle with the assistance of O. Crusius--have all naturally been\nretained.\n\nF. BOLL. O. WEINREICH.\n\nHEIDELBERG.\n_November, 1920._\n\n\n{{xv}}\n\nTRANSLATOR'S NOTE\n\n\nROHDE is very unsystematic in his mode of quoting from ancient\nauthorities: he has, for example, four different ways of referring\nto the Iliad and the Odyssey, two of referring to Demosthenes and\nthe Orators, etc. In quoting from the lesser authorities he\nsometimes used editions which have since become antiquated. (He even\ngoes so far as to quote Clem. Alex. by the page and letter of\nHeinsius' re-edition of Sylburg.) I have made an attempt to reduce\nthe number of inconsistencies and to give references where possible\nto modern editions. In these and other small ways I have tried to\nmake the notes--the text I hope is intelligible enough--more\naccessible to English readers. I have given references to English\ntranslations of German works (where I have been able to find them);\nbut I have refrained from adding references to the modern literature\nof the subject: most readers of the book will prefer to do that for\nthemselves. In order to save space I have used abbreviation pretty\nfreely in quoting names of authors and titles of books. The\nabbreviated forms agree generally with those given in Liddell and\nScott (supplemented by the list drawn up for the new edition of the\nLexicon): most of the following may be noted:--\n\nA. (or Aesch.) = Aeschylus.\nAmm. = Ammonius.\n_AP._ = _Anthologia Palatina_.\nApollod. = Ps.-Apollodorus, _Bibiotheca_ (unless _Epit._ is\n added).\nA. R. = Apollonius Rhodius.\n_Ath. Mitth._ = _Mittheilungen d. deutsch. arch. Inst. zu Athen_.\nAug. = Augustine.\nD. (or Dem.) = Demosthenes.\nD. C. = Dio Cassius.\nD. Chr. = Dio Chrysostom.\nD. H. = Dionysius of Halicarnassus (i.e. _Rom. Antiq._\n unless otherwise indicated)\nD. L. = Diogenes Laertius.\nD. P. = Dionysius Periegetes.\nD. S. = Diodorus Siculus.\nE. (or Eur.) = Euripides.\n_Epigr. Gr._ = Kaibel, _Epigrammata Graeca_.\nEun. = Eunapius _Vitae Sophistarum_. {xvi}\nGal. = Galen (vol. and page of K\u00fchn).\n_GDI._ = Collitz, _Griechische Dialektinschriften_.\n**_Gp._ = _Geoponica_.\nGrimm = Grimm, _Deutsche Mythologie_ transl. as _Teutonic\n Mythology_, by J. S. Stallybrass, Lond., 1880.\nHeraclid. _Pol._ = Heraclides Ponticus, _Politica_.\nHim. = Himerius.\nHipp. = Hippolytus.\nHp. = Hippokrates.\nHsch. = Hesychius.\nH. Smyrn. = Hermippus of Smyrna.\nHomer is quoted by the majuscules of the Greek alphabet for the books\nof the Iliad, by the minuscules for the Odyssey.\n_Inscr. Perg._ = _Inschriften von Pergamon_ ed. Fraenkel.\n_IPE._ = _Inscriptiones Ponti Euxini_ ed. Latyschev.\nIs. = Isaeus.\nJ. M. = Justin Martyr.\n_Leg. Sacr._ = von Prott and Ziehen, _Leges Graecorum Sacrae_.\nPall. = Palladius, _de Re Rustica_.\nPhld. = Philodemus.\nPi. = Pindar.\nPl. = Plato.\n_PLG._ = Bergk, _Poetae Lyrici Graeci_ ed. 4.\nPlot. = Plotinus.\nPlu. = Plutarch.\n_PMagPar._ = Paris Magical Papyrus ed. Wessely.\n_Rh. Mus._ = _**Rheinisches Museum_.\nS. (or Soph.) = Sophokles.\nS. E. = Sextus Empiricus.\n_SIG._ = Dittenberger, _Sylloge Inscriptionum Graecarum_\n ed. 2 (unless otherwise stated).\nStr. = Strabo (Casaubon's page).\n_Tab. Defix._ = _Tabellae Defixionum_ ed. W\u00fcnsch (Appendix to\n _CIA_.).\nThphr. = Theophrastus (_Ch._ = _Characters_ ed. Jebb).\nTylor = E. B. Tylor, _Primitive Culture_ ed. 4.\nTz. = Tzetzes.\nVg. = Vergil.\n_Vors._ = Diels, _Fragmente der Vorsokratiker_ ed. 4 (vol. 1\n unless otherwise indicated).\nX. (or Xen.) = Xenophon historicus.\nZnb. = Zenobius.\n\nI take this opportunity of thanking my friend Mr. R. Burn, of\nGlasgow University, for his invaluable help in these matters.\n\nW. B. HILLIS.\n\n\n\n\nPART I\n\n\n{{3}}\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nBELIEFS ABOUT THE SOUL AND CULT OF SOULS IN THE HOMERIC POEMS\n\nI\n\n\u00a7 1\n\nTo the immediate understanding of mankind nothing seems so\nself-evident, nothing so little in need of explanation, as the\nphenomenon of Life itself, the fact of man's own existence. On the\nother hand, the cessation of this so self-evident existence,\nwhenever it obtrudes itself upon his notice, arouses man's\never-renewed astonishment. There are primitive peoples to whom death\nwhenever it occurs seems an arbitrary abbreviation of life: if it is\nnot due to visible forces, then some invisible magic must have\ncaused it. So difficult is it for such peoples to grasp the idea\nthat the present state of being alive and conscious can come to an\nend of its own accord.\n\nOnce reflection on such problems is aroused, life itself, standing\nas it does on the threshold of all sensation and experience, soon\nbegins to appear no less mysterious than death--that kingdom into\nwhich no experience reaches. It may even come about that when they\nare regarded too long and too hard, light and darkness seem to\nchange places. It was to a Greek poet that the question suggested\nitself: \"Who knows then whether Life be not Death, and what we here\ncall Death be called Life there below?\"\n\nFrom such jaded wisdom and its doubts Greek civilization is still\nfar removed when, though already at an advanced stage in its\ndevelopment, it first speaks to us in the Homeric poems. The poet\nand his heroes speak with lively feeling of the pains and troubles\nof life, both in its individual phases and as a whole. The gods have\nallotted a life of pain and misery to men, while they themselves\nremain free from care. On the other hand, to turn aside from life\naltogether never enters the head of anyone in Homer. Nothing may be\nsaid expressly of the joy and happiness of life, but that is because\nsuch things {4} go without saying among a vigorous folk engrossed in\na movement of progress, whose circumstances were never complicated\nand where all the conditions of happiness easily fell to the lot of\nthe strong in activity and enjoyment. And, indeed, it is only for\nthe strong, the prudent, and the powerful that this Homeric world is\nintended. Life and existence upon this earth obviously belongs to\nthem--is it not an indispensable condition of the attainment of all\nparticular good things? As for death--the state which is to follow\nour life here--there is no danger of anyone mistaking _that_ for\nlife. \"Do not try and explain away death to me,\" says Achilles to\nOdysseus in Hades; and this would be the answer any Homeric man\nwould have given to the sophisticated poet, if he had tried to\npersuade him that the state of things after life on this earth is\nthe real life. Nothing is so hateful to man as death and the gates\nof Hades: for when death comes it is certain that life--this sweet\nlife of ours in the sunlight--is done with, whatever else there may\nbe to follow.\n\n\u00a7 2\n\nBut what _does_ follow? What happens when life departs for ever from\nthe inanimate body?\n\nIt is strange that anyone should have maintained (as it has been in\nrecent times[1\\1]) that in any stage of the development of the\nHomeric poems the belief can be found that with the moment of death\nall is at an end: that nothing survives death. We are not warranted\nby any statement in either of the two poems (to be found perhaps in\ntheir oldest parts, as is suggested) nor yet by the tell-tale\nsilence of the poet, in attributing such an idea either to the poet\nor his contemporaries. Wherever the occasion of death is described\nwe are told how the dead man (still referred to by his name, or his\n\"Psyche\", hastens away into the house of A\u00efdes--into the kingdom of\nA\u00efdes and the grim Persephoneia; goes down to the darkness below the\nearth, to Erebos; or, more vaguely, sinks into the earth itself. In\nany case, it is no mere _nothing_ that can enter the gloomy depths,\nnor over what does not exist could one suppose that the divine Pair\nholds sway below.\n\nBut how are we to think of this \"Psyche\" that, unnoticed during the\nlifetime of the body, and only observable when it is \"separated\"\nfrom the body, now glides off to join the multitude of its kind\nassembled in the murky regions of the \"Invisible\" (A\u00efdes)? Its name,\nlike the names given to the {5} \"soul\" in many languages, marks it\noff as something airy and breathlike, revealing its presence in the\nbreathing of the living man. It escapes out of the mouth--or out of\nthe gaping wound of the dying--and now freed from its prison\nbecomes, as the name well expresses it, an \"image\" (~ei/d\u00f4lon~). On\nthe borders of Hades Odysseus sees floating \"the images of those\nthat have toiled (on earth)\". These immaterial images withdrawing\nthemselves from the grasp of the living, like smoke (_Il._ xxiii,\n100) or a shadow (_Od._ xi, 207; x, 495), must at least recognizably\npresent the general outlines of the once living person. Odysseus\nimmediately recognizes his mother, Antikleia, in such a\nshadow-person, as well as the lately dead Elpenor, and those of his\ncompanions of the Trojan War who have gone before him. The psyche of\nPatroklos appearing to Achilleus by night resembles the dead man\nabsolutely in stature, bodily appearance and expression. The nature\nof this shadowy double of mankind, separating itself from man in\ndeath and taking its departure then, can best be realized if we\nfirst make clear to ourselves what qualities it does _not_ possess.\nThe psyche of Homeric belief does not, as might have been supposed,\nrepresent what we are accustomed to call \"spirit\" as opposed to\n\"body\". All the faculties of the human \"spirit\" in the widest\nsense--for which the poet has a large and varied vocabulary--are\nindeed only active and only possible so long as a man is still\nalive: when death comes the complete personality is no longer in\nexistence. The body, that is the corpse, now becomes mere \"senseless\nearth\" and falls to pieces, while the psyche remains untouched. But\nthe latter is by no means the refuge of \"spirit\" and its faculties,\nany more than the corpse is. It (the psyche) is described as being\nwithout feeling, deserted by mind and the organs of mind. All power\nof will, sensation, and thought have vanished with the\ndisintegration of the individual man into his component parts. So\nfar from it being permissible to ascribe the functions of \"spirit\"\nto the psyche, it would be more reasonable to speak of a contrast\nbetween the two. Man is a living creature, conscious of himself and\nintelligently active, only so long as the psyche remains within him.\nBut it is not the psyche which communicates its own faculties to man\nand gives him capacity for life together with consciousness, will\nand knowledge. It is rather that during the union of the psyche and\nthe body all the faculties of living and acting lie within the\nempire of the body, of which they are functions. Without the\npresence of the psyche, the body cannot perceive, feel, or will, but\nit does not use these {6} or any of its faculties through or by\nmeans of the psyche. Nowhere does Homer attribute any such function\nto the psyche in living man: it is, in fact, only mentioned when its\nseparation from the living man is imminent or has occurred. As the\nbody's shadow-image it survives the body and all its vital powers.\n\nIf we now ask--as our Homeric psychologists generally do--which, in\nthe face of this mysterious association between a living body and\nits counterfeit the psyche, is the \"real\" man, we find that Homer in\nfact gives contradictory answers. Not infrequently (indeed, in the\nfirst lines of the Iliad) the material body is contrasted,[2\\1] as\nthe \"man himself\", with the psyche--which cannot therefore be any\norgan or component part of the living body. On the other hand, that\nwhich takes its departure at death and hastens into the realm of\nHades is also referred to by the proper name of the person as\n\"himself\"[3\\1]--which means that here the shadowy psyche (for\nnothing else can go down to Hades) is invested with the name and\nvalue of the complete personality, the \"self\" of the man. But those\nwho draw from these phrases the conclusion that either the body or\nthe psyche must be the \"real man\" have, in either case,[4\\1] left\nout of account or unexplained one half of the recorded evidence.\nRegarded without prejudice, these apparently contradictory methods\nof speaking simply prove that both the visible man (the body and its\nown faculties) _and_ the indwelling psyche could be described as the\nman's \"self\". According to the Homeric view, human beings exist\ntwice over: once as an outward and visible shape, and again as an\ninvisible \"image\" which only gains its freedom in death. This, and\nnothing else, is the Psyche.\n\nSuch an idea--that the psyche should dwell with the living and fully\nconscious personality, like an alien and a stranger, a feebler\ndouble of the man, as his \"other self\"--this may well seem very\nstrange to us. And yet this is what so-called \"savage\" peoples,[5\\1]\nall over the world, actually believe. Herbert Spencer in particular\nhas shown this most decisively. It is therefore not very surprising\nto find the Greeks, too, sharing a mode of thought that lies so\nclose to the mind of primitive mankind. The earlier age which handed\ndown to the Greeks of Homer their beliefs about the soul cannot have\nfailed any more than other nations to observe the facts upon which a\nfantastic logic based the conclusion of man's double personality. It\nwas not the phenomena of sensation, will, perception, or thought in\nwaking and conscious man which led to this conclusion. It was the\nexperience of an apparent {7} double of the self in dreaming, in\nswoons, and ecstasy, that gave rise to the inference of a two-fold\nprinciple of life in man, and of the existence of an independent,\nseparable \"second self\" dwelling within the viable self of daily\nlife. One has only to listen to the words of a Greek writer of a\nlater period who, far more explicitly than Homer, describes the\nnature of the psyche and at the same time lets us see the origin of\nthe belief in such an entity. Pindar (fr. 131) tells us that the\nbody obeys Death, the almighty, but the image of the living creature\nlives on (\"since this alone is derived from the gods\": which, of\ncourse, is not Homeric belief); for it (this _eid\u00f4lon_) is\n_sleeping_ when the limbs are active, but when the body is asleep it\noften reveals the future in a dream. Words could hardly make it\nplainer that in the activities of the waking and conscious man, the\nimage-soul has no part. Its world is the world of sleep. While the\nother \"I\", unconscious of itself, lies in sleep, its double is up\nand doing. In other words, while the body of the sleeper lies\nwrapped in slumber, motionless, the sleeper in his dream lives and\nsees many strange and wonderful things. It is \"himself\" who does\nthis (of that there can be no doubt), and yet not the self known and\nvisible to himself and others; for that lies still as death beyond\nthe reach of sensation. It follows that there lives within a man a\nsecond self, active in dreaming. That the dream experiences are\nveritable realities and not empty fancies for Homer is also certain.\nHe never says, as later poets often do, that the dreamer \"thought\"\nhe saw this or that. The figures seen in dreams are real figures,\neither of the gods themselves or a \"dream spirit\" sent by them, or a\nfleeting \"image\" (eid\u00f4lon) that they allow to appear for a moment.\nJust as the dreamer's capacity for vision is no mere fancy, so, too,\nthe objects that he sees are realities. In the same way it is\nsomething real that appears to a man asleep as the shape of a person\nlately dead. Since this shape can show itself to a dreamer, it must\nof necessity still exist; consequently it survives death, though,\nindeed, only as a breath-like image, much as we have seen\nreflections of our own faces mirrored in water.[6\\1] It cannot,\nindeed--this airy substance--be grasped or held like the once viable\nself; and hence comes its name, the \"psyche\". The primeval argument\nfor such a counterpart of man is repeated by Achilleus himself\n(_Il._ xxiii, 103 f.) when his dead friend appears to him and then\nvanishes again: so, then, ye Gods, there yet lives in Hades' house a\npsyche and shadowy image (of man), but there is no midriff in it\n(and consequently none of the faculties which preserve the visible\nman alive). {8}\n\nThe dreamer, then, and what he sees in his dream proves the\nexistence of an _alter ego_ in man.[7\\1] Man, however, also observes\nthat his body may suffer a deathlike torpor without the second self\nbeing occupied with dream experiences. In such moments of \"swoon\",\naccording to Greek thought and actual Homeric expression, \"the\npsyche has left the body.\"[8\\1] Where had it gone? No man could\ntell. But on this occasion it comes back again: whereupon the\n\"spirit is gathered again into the midriff\". If ever, as happens in\nthe case of death, the psyche should become completely separated\nfrom the visible body, then the \"spirit\" will never return. But the\npsyche, which in those temporary separations from the body[9\\1] did\nnot perish, will not vanish into nothingness now.\n\n\u00a7 3\n\nSo far experience takes us, from which primitive logic arrived at\nvery much the same conclusions all over the world. But, we may\nproceed to ask, where does this liberated psyche go? What becomes of\nit? Here begins \"the undiscovered country\" and it might appear that\nat its entrance there was a complete parting of the ways.\n\nPrimitive people are accustomed to attribute unlimited powers to the\ndisembodied \"soul\"--powers all the more formidable because they are\nnot seen. Indeed, they refer in part _all_ invisible forces to the\naction of \"souls\", and strain anxiously by means of the richest\nofferings within their power to secure for themselves the goodwill\nof these powerful spirits. Homer, on the contrary, knows nothing of\nany influence exerted by the psyche upon the visible world, and,\nconsequently, hardly anything of a cult of the psyche. How, indeed,\ncould the souls (as I may venture to call them without further risk\nof misunderstanding) have any such influence? They are all without\nexception collected in the realm of A\u00efdes, far from the living,\nseparated from them by Okeanos and Acheron, guarded by the\nrelentless god himself, the inexorable doorkeeper. Only a fabled\nhero like Odysseus may for once, perhaps, reach the entrance of that\ngloomy kingdom alive: the souls themselves, once they have crossed\nthe river, never come back--so the soul of Patroklos assures his\nfriend. How do they get there? The implication seems to be that on\nleaving the body the soul passes away, unwilling and complaining of\nits fate, but, nevertheless, unresisting, to Hades; and after the\ndestruction of the body by fire, disappears for ever into the depths\nof Erebos. It was only a {9} later poet who, in giving the final\ntouches to the Odyssey, introduced Hermes, the \"Guide of the Dead\".\nWhether this is an invention of the poet's, or, as appears more\nlikely, it is borrowed from the ancient folk-belief of some remote\ncorner of Greece, in the completely rounded circle of Homeric belief\nat any rate it is an innovation and an important one. Doubt has\narisen, it appears, whether indeed _all_ the souls must of necessity\npass away into the Unseen; and they are provided with a divine guide\nwho by his mysteriously compelling summons (_Od._ xxiv, 1) and the\npower of his magic wand constrains them to follow him.[10\\1]\n\nDown in the murky underworld they now float unconscious, or, at\nmost, with a twilight half-consciousness, wailing in a shrill\ndiminutive voice, helpless, indifferent. Of course, flesh, bones,\nand sinews,[11\\1] the midriff, the seat of all the faculties of mind\nand will--these are all gone for ever. They were attached to the\nonce-visible partner of the psyche, and that has been destroyed. To\nspeak of an \"immortal life\" of these souls, as scholars both ancient\nand modern have done, is incorrect. They can hardly be said to\n_live_ even, any more than the image does that is reflected in the\nmirror; and that they prolong to eternity their shadowy\nimage-existence--where in Homer do we ever find this said? The\npsyche may survive its visible companion, but it is helpless without\nit. Is it possible to believe that a realistically imaginative,\nmaterially minded people like the Greeks would have regarded as\nimmortal a creature incapable (once the funeral is over) of\nrequiring or receiving further _nourishment_--either in religious\ncult or otherwise?\n\nThe daylight world of Homer is thus freed from spectres of the night\n(for even in dreams the psyche is seen no more after the body is\nburnt); from those intangible and ghostly essences at whose\nunearthly activity the superstitious of every age tremble. The\nliving are no longer troubled by the dead. The world is governed by\nthe gods alone; not pale and ghostly phantoms, but palpable and\nfully materialized figures, working powerfully everywhere, and\ndwelling on the clear mountain tops: \"and brightness gleams around\nthem.\" No daimonic powers can compare with the gods or can avail\nagainst them; and night does not set free the departed souls of the\ndead. The reader starts involuntarily and begins to suspect the\ninfluence of another age, when in a part of Book XX of the Odyssey,\nadded by a later hand, he reads how shortly before the destruction\nof the suitors the clairvoyant soothsayer beholds in hall and\nforecourt the soul-phantoms (eid\u00f4la) {10} floating in multitudes and\nhurrying down to the darkness under the earth: \"the sun was darkened\nin the heaven and a thick mist came over all.\" The later poet has\nbeen very successful in suggesting the terror awakened by a\nforeboding of tragedy; but such terror in the face of the doings of\nthe spirit world is entirely un-Homeric.\n\n\u00a7 4\n\nWere the Greeks, then, always so untroubled by such fears of the\nsouls of the dead? Was there never any _cult_ of disembodied\nspirits, such as was not only known to all primitive peoples\nthroughout the world, but was also quite familiar to nations\nbelonging to the same family as the Greeks, for instance, the\nIndians and the Persians? The question and its answer have more than\na passing interest. In later times--long subsequent to Homer--we\nfind in Greece itself a lively worship of ancestors and a general\ncult of the departed. Were it demonstrable--as it is generally\nassumed without proof--that the Greeks only at this late period\nfirst began to pay a religious cult to the souls of the dead, this\nfact would give very strong support to the oft-repeated theory that\nthe cult of the dead arose from the ruins of a previous worship of\nthe gods. Anthropologists are accustomed to deny this and to regard\nthe worship of disembodied souls as one of the earliest forms (if\nnot as originally the only form) of the reverence paid to unseen\npowers. The peoples, however, upon whose conditions of life and\nmental conceptions such views are generally based, have indeed\nbehind them a long past, but no history. What is to prevent pure\nspeculation and theorizing in conformity with the preconceived idea\njust mentioned (which is almost elevated to the position of a\ndoctrine of faith by some comparative religionists) from introducing\ninto the dim past of such savage peoples the primitive worship of\ngods, out of which the worship of the dead may then subsequently\narise? But _Greek_ religious development can be traced from Homer\nonwards for a long period; and there we find the certainly\nremarkable fact that a cult of the dead, unknown to Homer, only\nappears later, in the course of a long and vigorous expansion of\nreligious ideas in after times; or, at least, then shows itself more\nplainly--but not, it is important to notice, as the precipitate of a\ndying belief in gods and worship of the gods, but rather as a\ncollateral development by the side of that highly developed form of\npiety.\n\nAre we, then, really to believe that the cult of disembodied {11}\nspirits was absolutely unknown to the Greeks of pre-Homeric times?\n\nSuch an assertion, if made without due qualification, is\ncontradicted by a closer study of the Homeric poems themselves.\n\nIt is true that Homer represents for us the earliest great stage in\nthe evolution of Greek civilization of which we have clear evidence.\nBut the poems do not stand at the beginning of that evolution.\nIndeed, they only stand at the beginning of Greek Epic poetry--so\nfar as this has been transmitted to us--because the natural\ngreatness and wide popularity of the Iliad and the Odyssey secured\ntheir preservation in writing. Their very existence and the degree\nof artistic finish which they show, oblige us to suppose that behind\nthem lies a long history of heroic \"Saga\" poetry. The conditions\nwhich they describe and imply point to a long course of previous\ndevelopment--from nomadic to city life, from patriarchal rule to the\norganization of the Greek Polis. And just as the maturity of\nmaterial development tells its tale, so do the refinement and\nmaturity of culture, the profound and untrammelled knowledge of the\nworld, the clarity and simplicity of thought reflected in them. All\nthese things go to show that before Homer, in order to reach Homer,\nthe Greek world must have thought and learned much--must, indeed,\nhave unlearned and undone much. As in art, so in all the products of\ncivilization, what is simple, appropriate, and convincing is not the\nachievement of beginners, but the reward of prolonged study. It is\nprima facie unthinkable that during the whole length of Greek\nevolution before Homer, religion alone, the relationship between man\nand the invisible world, should have remained stationary at any one\npoint. It is not from the comparison of religious beliefs and their\ndevelopment among kindred nations, nor even from the study of\napparently primitive ideas and usages in the religious life of the\nGreeks themselves of later times, that we are to seek the truth\nabout the religious customs of that remote period which is obscured\nfor us by the intervening mass of the Homeric poems. Comparative\nstudies of this kind are valuable in their way, but must only be\nused to give further support to the insight derived from less easily\nmisleading methods of inquiry. For us the only completely\nsatisfactory source of information about pre-Homeric times is Homer\nhimself. We are allowed--indeed, we are forced--to conclude that\nthere have been change in conceptions and customs, if, in that\notherwise so uniform and rounded Homeric world, we meet with\nisolated occurrences, customs, forms of speech that contradict the\n{12} normal atmosphere of Homer and can only be explained by\nreference to a world in all essentials differently orientated from\nhis own and for the most part kept in the background by Homer. All\nthat is necessary is to open our eyes, freed from preconceived\nideas, to the \"rudiments\" (\"survivals\", as they are better called by\nEnglish scholars) of a past stage of civilization discoverable in\nthe Iliad and Odyssey themselves.\n\n\u00a7 5\n\nSuch rudiments of a once vigorous soul-worship are not hard to find\nin Homer. In particular, we may refer to what the Iliad tells us of\nthe manner in which the dead body of Patroklos is dealt with. The\nreader need only recall the general outline of the story. In the\nevening of the day upon which Hektor has been slain, Achilles with\nhis Myrmidons sings the funeral dirge to his dead friend: they go\nthree times in procession round the body, Achilles laying his\n\"murderous hands\" on the breast of Patroklos and calling upon him\nwith the words: \"Hail, Patroklos mine, even in A\u00efdes'\ndwelling-place; what I vowed to thee before is now performed; Hektor\nlies slain and is the prey of dogs, and twelve noble Trojan youths\nwill I slay at thy funeral pyre.\" After they have laid aside their\narms he makes ready the funeral feast for his companions--bulls,\nsheep, goats, and pigs are killed, \"and all around, in beakers-full,\nthe blood flowed round the corpse.\" During the night the soul of\nPatroklos appears to Achilles demanding immediate burial. In the\nmorning the host of the Myrmidons marches out in arms, bearing the\nbody in their midst. The warriors lay locks of their hair, cut off\nfor the purpose, upon the body, and last of all Achilles places his\nown hair in the hand of his friend--it was once pledged by his\nfather to Spercheios the River-god, but Patroklos must now take it\nwith him, since return to his home is denied to Achilles. The\nfuneral pyre is got ready, many sheep and oxen slaughtered. The\ncorpse is wrapped in their fat, while their carcasses are placed\nbeside it; jars of oil and honey are set round the body. Next, four\nhorses are killed, two dogs belonging to Patroklos, and last of all\ntwelve Trojan youths taken prisoner for this purpose by Achilles.\nAll these are burnt together with the corpse, and Achilles spends\nthe whole night pouring out dark wine upon the earth, calling the\nwhile upon the psyche of Patroklos. Only when morning comes is the\nfire extinguished with wine; the bones of Patroklos are collected\nand laid in a golden casket and entombed within a mound. {13}\n\nHere we have a picture of the funeral of a chieftain which, in the\nsolemnity and ceremoniousness of its elaborate detail, is in\nstriking conflict with the normal Homeric conception of the\nnothingness of the soul after its separation from the body. A full\nand rich sacrifice is here offered to such a soul. This sacrifice is\ninexplicable if the soul immediately upon its dissolution flutters\naway insensible, helpless and powerless, and therefore incapable of\nenjoying the offerings made to it. It is therefore not unnatural\nthat a method of interpretation which isolates Homer as far as\npossible and adheres closely to his own fixed and determinate range\nof ideas, should attempt to deny the sacrificial character of the\nofferings made on this occasion.[12\\1] We may well ask, however,\nwhat else but a sacrifice, i.e. a repast offered in satisfaction of\nthe needs of the person honoured (in this case the psyche), can be\nintended by this stream of blood about the corpse; this slaughtering\nand burning of cattle and sheep, horses and dogs, and finally of\ntwelve Trojan prisoners on or at the funeral pyre? To explain it all\nas a mere performance of pious duties, as is often done in\ninterpreting many of the gruesome pictures of Greek sacrificial\nceremonies, is impossible here. Besides, Homer often tells us of\nmerely pious observances in honour of the dead, and they are of a\nvery different character. And the most horrible touch of all (the\nhuman sacrifice is not put in simply to satisfy Achilles' lust for\nvengeance--twice over does Achilles call to the soul of Patroklos\nwith the words: \"To _you_ do I bring what I formerly promised to\n_you_\" (_Il._ xxiii, 20 ff., 180 ff.).[13\\1] The whole series of\nofferings on this occasion is precisely of the kind which we may\ntake as typical of the oldest sort of sacrificial ritual such as we\noften find in later Greek religion in the cultus of the infernal\ndeities. The sacrificial offerings are completely burnt in honour of\nthe Daimon and are not shared between the bystanders as in the case\nof other offerings. If such \"holocausts\", when offered to the\nChthonic and some of the Olympian deities, are to be regarded as\nsacrificial in character, then it is unjustifiable to invent some\nother meaning for the performances at the funeral pyre of Patroklos.\nThe offering of wine, oil, and honey, at least, are normal in\nsacrificial rituals of later times. Even the severed lock of hair\nspread out over the dead body or laid in the cold hand is a well\nknown sacrificial tribute, and must be supposed such here as much as\nin later Greek ceremonial or in that of many other peoples.[14\\1] In\nfact, this gift in particular, symbolically representing as it does\na more valuable sacrifice by means of another and less important\n{14} object (in the giving of which only the goodwill of the giver\nis to be considered)--this very offering, like all such symbolical\nsubstitutions, bears witness to the long duration and past\ndevelopment of the cultus in which it occurs--in this case of the\nworship of the dead in pre-Homeric times.\n\nThe whole narrative presupposes the idea that by the pouring out of\nstreams of blood, by offerings of wine and burnt offerings of human\nbeings and of cattle, the psyche of a person lately dead can be\nrefreshed, and its resentment mollified. At any rate, it is thus\nthought of as accessible to human prayers and as remaining for some\ntime in the neighbourhood of the sacrifice made to it. This\ncontradicts what we expect in Homer, and, in fact, just in order to\nmake this unusual performance plausible to an audience no longer\nfamiliar with the idea, and to make it admissible on a special\noccasion, the poet (though the actual course of his story does not\nreally require it)[15\\1] makes the psyche of Patroklos appear by\nnight to Achilles. And, in fact, to the end of the narrative\nAchilles repeatedly greets the soul of Patroklos as though it were\npresent.[16\\1] The unusual way in which Homer deals with this whole\naffair, so full of primeval, savage ideas as it is, seems, indeed,\nto betray a certain vagueness about what its real meaning may be.\nThat the writer has certain qualms on the subject is indicated by\nthe brevity--not at all like Homer--with which the most shocking\npart of the story, the slaughter of human beings, together with\nhorses and dogs, is hurried over. But the thing to be noted\nparticularly is that the poet is certainly not devising such\nunpleasant circumstances for the first time out of his own\nimagination. This epic picture of the worship of the dead was\nadopted by Homer from an earlier source (whatever that source may\nhave been),[17\\1] and not invented by him. He makes it serve his\nspecial purpose, which is to provide a satisfactory climax to the\nseries of vivid and emotional scenes beginning with the tragic death\nof Patroklos and ending with the death and dishonouring of the\nchampion of Troy. After such emotional exaltation the overstrained\nnerves must not be allowed to relax too suddenly; a last flicker of\nthe superhuman rage and grief that made Achilles rave so furiously\nagainst his foes must show itself in the serving up of this awful\nbanquet to the soul of his friend. It is as though a primitive and\nlong-suppressed savagery had broken out again for a last effort.\nOnly when all is over does the soul of Achilles find repose in\nmelancholy resignation. More calmly he calls upon the rest of the\nAch\u00e6ans to take their seats \"in a wide circle round about\"; and\nthere follows the {15} description of those splendid \"Games\", a\nsubject that must have awakened the enthusiasm of every experienced\nathlete in the audience--and was there ever a Greek who was not an\nathlete? It is true that athletic contests are described by Homer\nmainly on account of their own peculiar interest and for the sake of\nthe artistic effects that their description allowed. Still, the\nselection of such games as a fitting conclusion to a chieftain's\nfuneral cannot be fully understood except as a survival of an\nancient and once vigorous worship of the dead. Such athletic\ncontests in honour of the great immediately after their death are\noften referred to by Homer;[18\\1] indeed, a funeral is the _only_\noccasion[19\\1] recognized by him as suitable for the exhibition of\nathletic prize-competitions. The practice never quite died out, and\nit became usual in later post-Homeric times to mark the festivals of\nHeroes and, later of gods, too, by Games which gradually became\nregularly repeated performances, developed from the traditional\ncontests that had concluded the funeral ceremonies of great men.\nNow, no one doubts that the _Agon_ at the festival of a Hero or a\ngod formed part of their religious worship. It is only reasonable,\nthen, to suppose that the funeral games which accompany the burial\nof a chieftain (and are confined to that one occasion) belong to the\nreligious _cult_ of the dead, and to recognize that such a mode of\nworship can only have been introduced at a time when men regarded\nthe soul, in whose honour the ceremony took place, as capable of\nsharing consciously in its enjoyment. Even Homer is certainly\nconscious of the fact that the games, like the rest of the offerings\nmade then, were intended for the satisfaction of the dead and not\nsolely for the entertainment of the living.[20\\1] We may also cite\nthe declared opinion of Varro, who says that the dead in whose\nhonour funeral games are celebrated are thereby proved to have been\nregarded originally, if not as gods, at least as very powerful\nspirits.[21\\1] Of course, this feature of the original cultus of the\nsoul was very easily stripped of its real meaning--it recommended\nitself quite apart from its religious significance--and for that\nvery reason remained longer than other performances of the kind in\ngeneral use.\n\nIf we now survey the whole series of ritual acts directed to the\nhonouring of the soul of Patroklos, we can deduce from the\nseriousness of these attempts to please the disembodied spirit what\nmust have been the strength of the original conception--how vivid\nmust have been the impression of enduring sensibility, of formidable\npower possessed by a soul {16} to whom such a cult was offered. It\nis true of the cult of the dead, as of any other sacrificial custom,\nthat its perpetuation is due solely to the hope of avoiding hurt and\nobtaining assistance at the hands of the Unseen.[22\\1] A generation\nthat no longer anticipated either help or harm from the \"Souls\"\nmight be ready to perform last offices of all kinds to the deserted\nbody out of pure _piety_, and to offer to the dead a certain\ntraditional reverence. But this would testify rather to the grief of\nthose left behind than to any special reverence felt for the\ndeparted.[23\\1] This is mostly the case in Homer. It is not,\nhowever, what we should call piety, but much rather mistrust of a\n\"ghost\" become powerful through its separation from the body, that\nexplains the exaggerated fullness of the funeral offerings that are\nmade at the burial of Patroklos. They cannot be made to fit in with\nthe ordinary circle of Homeric ideas. Indeed, that this circle of\nideas excluded all misgiving at the possible action of unseen\nspirits is quite clearly shown by the fact that the honours paid\neven to a dead man held in such veneration as Patroklos are confined\nto the solitary occasion of his funeral. As the psyche of Patroklos\nhimself assures his friend, once the burning of the body is\ncompleted, it, the psyche, will take its departure to Hades, never\nto return.[24\\1] It is easy to see that from this point of view\nthere was no motive whatever that could lead to a permanent cult of\nthe soul such as was common among the Greeks of later times. But it\nshould be noticed further that the luxurious repast offered to the\nsoul of Patroklos on the occasion of his funeral had no point if the\ngoodwill of the soul which was to be assured by that process would\nnever have an opportunity in the future of making itself felt. The\ncontradiction between Homeric belief and Homeric practice on this\noccasion is complete, and shows decisively that the traditional view\nthat would see in this description of soul-worship at the funeral of\nPatroklos an effort after _new_ and more lively ideas of the life\nafter death, must certainly be wrong. When new surmises, wishes,\nconjectures begin to arise and seek a means of expression, the new\nideas generally find incomplete utterance in the old and\ninappropriate external forms, but express themselves more clearly\nand certainly (generally with some tendency to exaggeration) in the\nless conservative words and language of men. Here just the opposite\noccurs: every word the poet utters about the circumstances\ncontradicts the elaborately wrought ceremonial which those\ncircumstances call forth. It is impossible to point to a single\ntouch that accords with the belief implied by the {17} ceremonial.\nThe poet's bias is a different and, indeed, an opposite one. Of this\nmuch at least there cannot be the slightest doubt: the funeral\nceremonies over the body of Patroklos are not the first budding of a\nnew principle, but rather represent a \"vestige\" of a more vigorous\nworship of the dead in earlier times, a worship that must once have\nbeen a complete and sufficient expression of belief in the great and\nenduring power of the disembodied spirit. It has, however, been\npreserved unaltered into an age that, with quite other religious\nbeliefs, no longer understands, or at best half-guesses at the sense\nof such strange ceremonial observances. Thus ritual generally\noutlives both the state of mind and the belief which originally gave\nrise to it.\n\n\u00a7 6\n\nNeither the Iliad nor the Odyssey contains anything that can equal\nthe scenes at the funeral of Patroklos as evidence of primitive\nworship of the dead. But even the ordinary forms of interment of the\ndead are not entirely without such \"vestigial\" features. The dead\nman's eyes and mouth are closed,[25\\1] the body is washed and\nanointed, and after being wrapped in a clean linen cloth is laid\nupon a bier,[26\\1] and the funeral dirge begins.[27\\1] It is hardly\npossible to see even the remotest, lingering, reminiscence of a once\nvigorous worship of the dead in such performances as these; or in\nthe very simple burial customs that follow the burning of the body;\nthe bones are collected in a jar or a casket and buried under a\nmound, and a post set up to mark the place as a \"grave-mound\".[28\\1]\nBut when we find that the body of Elpenor, in accordance with the\ncommand issued by his psyche to Odysseus (_Od._ xi, 74), is burned\ntogether with his weapons (_Od._ xii, 13); when, further, we read\nthat Achilles burnt the weapons of his overthrown foe together with\nhis body on the funeral pyre (_Il._ vi, 418), it is impossible not\nto feel that we have here, too, survivals of an ancient belief that\nthe soul in some mysterious fashion was capable of making use of\nthese objects that are burnt along with its discarded bodily\nenvelope. No one doubts that this is the reason for such a custom\nwhen it meets us in the case of other nations; with the Greeks, too,\nit must have had an equally good foundation, however little such is\nto be discovered in the ordinary Homeric view of the soul. The\ncustom, moreover, more precisely described in these cases, was of\ngeneral observance; we often hear how the completeness of a burial\nrequires the burning of the possessions of the dead along with the\nbody.[29\\1] We cannot {18} tell to what extent the duty of offering\nto the dead _all_ his movable possessions[30\\1] (a duty originally\nwithout doubt interpreted quite literally) had come in Homeric times\nto be interpreted in a symbolical sense--a process which reached its\nlowest stage in the custom prevalent in later times of presenting an\nobol \"for the Ferryman of the Dead\". Finally, the \"funeral feast\"\noffered by the king to the mourning people either after the funeral\nof a chieftain (_Il._ xxiv, 802, 665), or before the burning of his\nbody (_Il._ xxiii, 29 ff.), could only have derived its full meaning\nfrom an ancient belief that the soul of the person thus honoured\ncould itself take a share in the feast. In the banquet in honour of\nPatroklos the dead man is given a definite portion--the blood of the\nslaughtered animals which is poured round his body (_Il._ xxiii,\n34). Like the funeral games, this banquet is apparently intended to\npropitiate the soul of the dead man. Consequently, we find even\nOrestes, after slaying Aigisthos, his father's murderer, offering\nhim a funeral feast (_Od._ iii, 309)--not, surely, in a mood of\nsimple \"piety\". The custom of inviting the whole people, on the\noccasion of important funerals, to such a banquet no longer appears\nin later times; it has little resemblance to the funeral feasts\nshared by the relations of the dead man (~peri/deipna~) that were\nafterwards customary; it is far closer to the great _cen\u00e6 ferales_\nthat accompanied the _silicernia_ in Rome, to which the relations of\nthe dead man, if he were an important person, invited the whole\npopulation.[31\\1] After all, it is no harder to understand the\nunderlying conception of the soul in this case sharing the feast\nwith the whole people, than it is to understand the same conception\nwhen applied to the great sacrifices to the gods which, though the\ncongregation partakes, are, in name and in fact, essentially\n\"Banquets of the Gods\" (_Od._ iii, 336).\n\nSuch are the relics of ancient soul-worship to be found within the\nlimits of the Homeric world. Further attention to the spirits of the\ndead beyond the time of the funeral was prevented by the deeply\ningrained conviction that after the burning of the body the psyche\nwas received into the inaccessible world of the Unseen, from which\nno traveller returns. But, in order to secure this complete\ndeparture of the soul, it is necessary for the body to be burnt.\nThough we do occasionally read in the Iliad or the Odyssey that\nimmediately after death and before the burning of the body \"the\npsyche departed to Hades\",[32\\1] the words must not be taken too\nliterally; the soul certainly flies off at once towards Hades, but\nit hovers now between the realms of the living and {19} the dead\nuntil it is received into the final safekeeping of the latter after\nthe burning of the body. The psyche of Patroklos appearing by night\nto Achilles declares this; it prays for immediate burial in order\nthat it may pass through the door of Hades. Until then the other\nshadow-creatures prevent its entrance and bar its passage across the\nriver, so that it has to wander restlessly round the house of A\u00efs of\nthe wide gate (_Il._ xxiii, 71 ff.). This hastening off towards the\nhouse of Hades is again all that is meant when it is said elsewhere\nof Patroklos himself (_Il._ xvi, 856) that the psyche departed out\nof his limbs to the house of Hades. In exactly the same way it is\nsaid of Elpenor, the companion of Odysseus, that \"his soul descended\nto Hades\" (_Od._ x, 560). This soul meets his friend, nevertheless,\nlater on, at the entrance of the Shadow-world, not yet deprived of\nits senses like the rest of the dwellers in that House of Darkness;\nnot until the destruction of its physical counterpart is complete\ncan it enter into the rest of Hades. Only through fire are the souls\nof the dead \"appeased\" (_Il._ vii, 410). So long, then, as the\npsyche retains any vestige of \"earthliness\" it possesses some\nfeeling still, some awareness of what is going on among the\nliving.[33\\1]\n\nBut once the body is destroyed by fire, then is the psyche relegated\nto Hades; no return to this earth is permitted to it, and not a\nbreath of this world can penetrate to it there. It cannot even\nreturn in thought. Indeed, it no longer thinks at all, and knows\nnothing more of the world beyond. The living also forget one so\ncompletely cut off from themselves (_Il._ xxii, 389). What, then,\nshould tempt them, during the rest of their lives here, to try to\nhold communication with the dead by means of a _cult_?\n\n\u00a7 7\n\nThe practice of cremation itself will perhaps give us one last piece\nof evidence that there had been a time when the idea of the\nprolonged sojourn of the disembodied spirit in the realm of the\nliving and its power of influencing the survivors existed among the\nGreeks. Homer knows of no other kind of funeral than that of fire.\nOn a funeral pyre are burnt the bodies of king or leader with the\nmost solemn ritual; those of the common people fallen in war are\ngiven to the flames with less ceremony; none are buried. We may well\nask whence comes this custom, and what is its meaning for Greeks of\nthe Homeric age? This means of disposing of the bodies of the dead\nis not by any means the most simple and obvious; it {20} is far\neasier to carry out, and far less expensive, to bury them in the\nearth. It has been suggested that the custom of cremation as\nobserved by Persians, Germans, Slavs, and other peoples, is\ninherited from a nomadic period. The wandering horde has no\npermanent habitation in which or near which the body of the beloved\ndead can be buried and perpetual sustenance offered to his soul.\nUnless, therefore, as is the custom with some nomadic tribes, the\ndead body is given up to be the prey of beasts or weather, it might\nseem a natural idea to reduce it to ashes and carry the remains,\npreserved in a light jar, along with the tribe on its further\njourneyings.[34\\1] Whether such practical reasonings can have had so\nmuch influence in a connexion that is generally governed entirely by\nfancy, and in which practical considerations are altogether\nscouted--I shall leave undecided. But, in any case, if we postulate\na nomadic origin for the practice of burning the dead among the\nGreeks, we should have to go back altogether too far into the past\nto explain a mode of behaviour that, by no means exclusively\npractised in early times by the Greeks, becomes absolutely\nprescriptive in a period when they have long ceased to wander. The\nAsiatic Greeks, and in particular the Ionians, whose popular beliefs\nand customs are, in general outline, at least, reproduced for us in\nHomer, deserted one settled habitation in order to found another.\nCremation then must have been so permanently established among them\nthat it never entered their heads to seek any other method of\ndisposing of their dead. In Homer not only the Greeks before Troy\nand Elpenor, far away from home, are burnt when they die; E\u00ebtion,\ntoo, in his own home is given a funeral pyre by Achilles (_Il._ vi,\n418). Hektor's body is burnt in the middle of Troy and the Trojans\nthemselves in their own native land burn their dead (_Il._ vii). The\nbox or urn that holds the cremated bones of the dead is buried in a\nmound; the ashes of Patroklos, Achilles, Antilochos, and Aias rest\non foreign soil (_Od._ iii, 109 ff.; xxiv, 76 ff.). It never occurs\nto Agamemnon that if Menelaos dies before Ilios his brother's grave\ncould be anywhere else than at Troy (_Il._ iv, 174 ff.). There is,\ntherefore, evidently no intention on the part of the living of\ntaking the remains of the dead with them on their return home;[35\\1]\nand this cannot be the object of cremation. It will be necessary to\nlook for some principle more in accordance with primitive modes of\nthought than such merely practical considerations. Jakob Grimm[36\\1]\nsuggested that the burning of the corpse might have been intended as\nan offering of the dead man to the gods. Among {21} the Greeks this\ncould only mean the gods of the lower world; but nothing in Greek\nbelief or ritual suggests such a grim intention.[37\\1] The real\npurpose aimed at in cremation is not so far to seek. Since the\ndestruction of the body by fire is supposed to result in the\ncomplete separation of the spirit from the land of the living,[38\\1]\nit must be assumed that this result is also _intended_ by the\nsurvivors who employ the means in question; and consequently that\nthe complete banishment of the psyche once and for all into the\nother world is the real purpose and the original occasion of the\npractice of cremation. Isolated expressions of opinion among the\nnations that have practised the custom do, as a matter of fact,\nindicate as its object the speedy and entire separation of soul from\nbody.[39\\1] The exact nature of the intention varies with the state\nof belief about the soul. When the Indians turned from the custom of\nburying their dead to that of burning them, they were actuated, it\nappears, by the idea that the sooner and more completely the soul\nwas freed from the body and its limitations, the more easily would\nit reach the Paradise of the Just.[40\\1] Of the purifying effects of\nthe fire implied in this conception, the Greeks knew nothing until\nthe idea was revived in later times.[41\\1] The Greeks of the Homeric\nage, innocent of any such \"Kathartic\" notion, thought only of the\ndestructive powers of that element to which they entrusted the body\nof their dead, and of the benefit that they were conferring upon the\nsoul in freeing it by fire from the lifeless body, thus adding their\nassistance to its own efforts to get free.[42\\1] Nothing can destroy\nthe psyche's visible counterpart more quickly than fire. If, then,\nthe body is burnt and the most treasured possessions of the dead man\nconsumed along with it, no tie remains that can detain the soul any\nlonger in the world of the living.\n\nCremation, therefore, is intended to benefit the dead, whose soul no\nlonger wanders unable to find rest; but still more the living, for\nthey will not be troubled by ghosts that are securely confined to\nthe depths of the earth. The Greeks of Homer, accustomed by long\nusage to the burning of the dead, are free from all fears of\nhaunting \"ghostly\" presences. But when the practice of the\nfire-funeral was first adopted, that which was to be guarded against\nin the future by the destruction of the body with fire must have\nbeen a real cause of fear.[43\\1] The souls that were so anxiously\nrelegated to the other world of the Unseen must have been feared as\nawesome inhabitants of this world. And so, from whatever source it\nmay have come to them,[44\\1] the custom of cremation gives firm\nground for {22} supposing that at some period of their history the\nbelief in the power and activity of the spirits of the dead and\ntheir influence upon the living--a subject of fear rather than\nreverence--must have been prevalent amongst the Greeks; even though\nonly a few scattered hints still bear witness to such beliefs in the\nHomeric poems.\n\n\u00a7 8\n\nAnd evidence of these ancient beliefs we can now see with our eyes\nand touch with our hands. Owing to an inestimable series of\nfortunate circumstances, we are enabled to catch a glimpse of a far\ndistant period of Greek history, which not only supplies a\nbackground to Homer, but makes him cease to be the earliest source\nof our information upon Greek life and thought. He is brought\nsuddenly much nearer, perhaps deceptively nearer, to ourselves. The\nlast decades of excavation in the citadel and lower town of Mycen\u00e6\nand other sites in the Peloponnese right into the centre of the\npeninsula and as far northwards as Attica and Thessaly, have\nresulted in the discovery of graves--shaft-graves, chamber-graves,\nand elaborately constructed domed vaults, which were built and\nwalled up in the period before the Dorian invasion. These graves\nprove to us--what was already hinted at by a few isolated\nexpressions in Homer[45\\1]--that the Greek \"Age of Burning\" was\npreceded, as in the case of the Persians, Indians, and Germans, by a\nperiod in which the dead were buried in the ground intact.[46\\1] The\nlords and ladies of golden Mycen\u00e6, and lesser folk, too (in the\ngraves at Nauplia, in Attica, etc.), were buried when they died.\nChieftains take with them into the grave a rich paraphernalia of\ngorgeous furniture and ornaments--unburnt like their own bodies;\nthey rest upon a bed of small stones, and are covered by a layer of\nloam and pebbles;[47\\1] traces of smoke and remains of ashes and\ncharred wood bear witness to the fact that the dead were laid upon\nthe place where the \"sacrifice for the dead\" had already been made;\nupon the hearth where offerings had been previously burnt inside the\ngrave chamber.[48\\1] This may very well be a burial procedure of the\nmost primeval antiquity. Our oldest \"Giants'\" graves, in whose\ntreasures no metal of any kind is found, and whose age is on that\naccount considered to be pre-Teutonic, exhibit similar features.\nEither on the ground, or, occasionally, on a specially prepared\nbasis of fire-brick, the sacrificial fire is lighted, and, when it\nhas burnt out, the corpse is set down upon the place and given {23}\na covering of sand, loam, and stone.[49\\1] Remains of burnt\nsacrificial animals (sheep and goats) have also been found in the\ngraves at Nauplia and elsewhere.[50\\1] In conformity with such\ndifferent burial customs, the conceptions then held of the nature\nand powers of the disembodied spirits must have differed widely from\nthose of the Homeric world. Offerings to the dead at a funeral occur\nin Homer only on special and isolated occasions and accompanied by\nan obsolete and half-understood ritual. Here they were the regular\nprocedure both with rich and poor alike. But why should they have\nmade offerings to their dead if they did not believe in their power?\nAnd why should they have taken away gold and jewellery and art\ntreasures of all kinds and in astonishing quantities from the living\nand given them to the dead if they had not believed that the dead\ncould find enjoyment in their former possessions even in the grave?\nWhere the material body still remains intact, there the second self\ncan at least occasionally return. Its treasured possessions laid by\nits side in the tomb are there to prevent its appearing uninvited in\nthe outer world.[51\\1]\n\nSupposing, however, that the soul could return if and where it\nliked, it is evident that the cult of the dead would not be confined\nto the occasion of the funeral. And, indeed, that very\ncircumstance--the prolongation of the cult paid to the dead beyond\nthe time of the funeral--of which we could not find a vestige in\nHomer, can at last (as it seems to me) be traced in pre-Homeric\nMycen\u00e6. Over the middle one of four shaft-graves found on the\ncitadel stands an altar which can only have been placed there after\nthe grave was closed and sealed up.[52\\1] It is a round altar,\nhollow inside, and not closed in at the bottom; in fact, a sort of\nfunnel standing directly upon the earth. If, now, the blood of the\nvictim, mingled with the various drink-offerings, were poured down\ninto this receptacle, the whole would flow downwards into the ground\nbeneath and to the dead man lying there. This is no altar (~b\u00f4mo/s~)\nsuch as was in use in the worship of the gods above, but a\nsacrificial hearth (~escha/ra~) for the worship of the inhabitants\nof the underworld. This structure corresponds closely with the\ndescription we have of the hearths upon which offerings were made in\na later age to \"Heroes\", i.e. the souls of transfigured human\nbeings.[53\\1] Here, then, we have a contrivance for the permanent\nand repeated worship of the dead; for such worship alone can this\nstructure have been intended. The funeral offering to the dead had\nalready been completed inside the grave-chamber. We thus find a {24}\nmeaning in the \"beehive\" tombs, for the vaulted main-chamber, beside\nwhich the corpse lay in a smaller chamber by itself. They were\nevidently intended to allow sacrifices to be made inside them--and\nnot once only.[54\\1] At least this is the purpose which the outer\nchamber serves elsewhere in double-vaulted graves. The evidence of\nthe eye is therefore able to establish the truth of what could only\nbe made out with difficulty from the Homeric poems. We can thus see\nthat there had been a time in which the Greeks, too, believed that\nafter the separation of body and soul the psyche did not entirely\ncease from intercourse with the upper world. Such a belief naturally\ncalled forth a cult of the soul, which lasted on even when the\nmethod of burying the body had changed, and even survived into\nHomeric times, when, with the prevalence of other beliefs, such\nobservances ceased to have any meaning.\n\nII\n\nHomer consistently assumes the departure of the soul into an\ninaccessible land of the dead where it exists in an unconscious\nhalf-life. There it is without clear self-consciousness and\nconsequently neither desires nor wills anything. It has no influence\non the upper world, and consequently no longer receives any share of\nthe worship of the living. The dead are beyond the reach of any\nfeelings whether of fear or love. No means exists of forcing or\nenticing them back again. Homer knows nothing of necromancy or of\noracles of the dead,[55\\1] both common in later Greek life. Gods\ncome into the poems and take part in the action of the story; the\nsouls of the departed never do. Homer's immediate successors in the\nEpic tradition think quite differently on this point; but for Homer\nthe soul, once relegated to Hades, has no further importance.\n\nIf we think how different it must have been before the time of\nHomer, and how different it certainly was after him, we can hardly\nhelp feeling surprise at finding at this early stage of Greek\nculture such extraordinary freedom from superstitious fears in that\nvery domain where superstition is generally most deeply rooted.\nInquiries, however, into the origin and cause of such an untroubled\nattitude must be made very cautiously and a completely conclusive\nanswer must not be expected. More especially it must be borne in\nmind that in these poems we have to do, directly and immediately, at\nleast, only with the poet and his circle. The Homeric Epos can only\nbe called \"folk poetry\" in the sense that it was adapted to the {25}\nacceptance of the whole family of Greek-speaking people who welcomed\nit eagerly and transformed it to their own uses; and not because the\n\"folk\" in some mystical sense had a share in its composition. Many\nhands contributed to the composition of the poem, but they merely\ncarried it further in the general direction which had been given to\nit not by the \"Folk\" or by the \"Saga\" tradition, as is sometimes too\nconfidently asserted, but by the authority of the greatest poetic\ngenius that the Greeks or, indeed, mankind ever knew. The tradition\nonce formed was handed on by a close corporation of master-poets and\ntheir pupils who preserved, disseminated, continued and imitated the\noriginal great poet's work. If, then, we find on the whole, and\napart from a few vagaries in detail, a single unified picture of the\nworld, of gods and men, life and death, given in these two poems,\nthat is the picture which shaped itself in the mind of Homer and was\nimpressed upon his work, and afterwards preserved by the Homeridai.\nIt is plain that the freedom, almost the freethinking, with which\nevery possible occurrence in the world is regarded in these poems,\ncannot ever have been characteristic of a whole people or race. And\nnot only the animating spirit, but even the outward shape that is\ngiven in the two epic poems to the ideal world surrounding and\nruling over the world of men, is the work of the poet. It was no\npriestly theology that gave him his picture of the gods. The popular\nbeliefs of the time, each peculiar to some countryside, canton, or\ncity, must, if left to themselves, have split up into even more\ncontradictory varieties of thought than they did in later times when\nthere existed some few religious institutions common to all Hellas\nto act as centres of union. The poet alone must have been\nresponsible for the conception and consistent execution of the\npicture of a single and unified world of gods, confined to a select\ncompany of sharply characterized heavenly beings, grouped together\nin certain well-recognized ways and dwelling together in a single\nplace of residence above the earth. If we listened to Homer alone we\nshould suppose that the innumerable local cults of Greece, with\ntheir gods closely bound to the soil, hardly existed. Homer ignores\nthem almost entirely. His gods are pan-Hellenic, Olympian. In fact,\nin his picture of the gods, Homer fulfilled most completely his\nspecial poetic task of reducing confusion and superfluity to\nuniformity and symmetry of design--the very task which Greek\nidealism in art continually set before itself. In his picture Greek\nbeliefs about the gods _appear_ absolutely uniform--as uniform as\ndialect, political condition, manners, {26} and morals. In\nreality--of this we may be sure--no such uniformity existed; the\nmain outlines of pan-Hellenism were doubtless there, but only the\ngenius of the poet can have combined and fused them into a purely\nimaginary whole. Provincial differences in themselves interested him\nnot at all. So, too, in the special question that we are\nconsidering, if we find him speaking of a single kingdom of the\nunderworld, the resort of all departed spirits ruled over by a\nsingle pair of divinities and removed as far from the world of men\nand their cities as the Olympian dwelling of the Blessed Ones is in\nthe opposite direction, who shall say how far he represents naive\npopular belief in such matters? On this side Olympus, the meeting\nplace of all the gods that rule in the daylight;[56\\1] on that the\nrealm of Hades that holds in its grasp the unseen spirits that have\nleft this life behind--the parallel is too apparent to be due to\nanything but the same simplifying and co-ordinating spirit in the\none case as in the other.\n\n\u00a7 2\n\nIt would, however, be an equally complete misunderstanding of the\nrelation in which Homer stood to the popular beliefs of his time if\nwe imagined that relation to be one of opposition, or even supposed\nhim to have taken up an attitude resembling that of Pindar or the\nAttic Tragedians towards the conventional opinions of their time.\nThese later poets often enough allow us to see quite clearly the\nintentional departure from normal opinion represented by their more\nadvanced conceptions. Homer, on the contrary, is as free from\ncontroversy as he is from dogma. He does not offer his pictures of\nGod, the world and fate as anything peculiar to himself; and it is\nnatural, therefore, to suppose that his public recognized them as\nsubstantially the same as their own. The poet has not taken over the\nwhole body of popular belief, but what he does say must have\nbelonged to popular belief. The selection and combination of this\nmaterial into a consistent whole was the poet's real work. If the\nHomeric creed had not been so constructed in essentials that it\ncorresponded to the beliefs of the time, or, at least, could be made\nto correspond, then it is impossible to account (even allowing for\nthe poetic tradition of a school) for the uniformity that marks the\nwork of the many poets that had a hand in the composition of the two\npoems. In this narrow sense it can be truly said that Homer's poems\nrepresent the popular belief of their time; not, indeed, the belief\nof all Greece, but only of the _Ionian_ {27} cities of the coasts\nand islands of Asia Minor in which the poet and his songs were at\nhome. In a similarly restricted sense may the pictures of outward\nlife and manners that we find in the Iliad and the Odyssey be taken\nas a reflection of the contemporary life of the Greeks with\nparticular reference to that of the Ionians. This life must have\ndiffered in many respects from that of the \"Mycen\u00e6an civilization\",\nand there can be little doubt that the reasons for this difference\nare to be sought in the long-continued disturbances which marked the\ncenturies that divide Homer from the age of Mycen\u00e6, more especially\nin the Greek migrations, both in what they destroyed and what they\ncreated. The violent invasion of northern Greek peoples into the\ncentral mainland and the Peloponnese, the destruction of ancient\nempires and their civilization, the foundation of new Dorian states\nheld by right of conquest, the great migrations to the Asiatic\ncoasts, and the institution of a new life on foreign soil--all these\nviolent modifications of the old course of existence must have dealt\na severe blow at the whole fabric of that civilization and culture.\nIn the same way we find that the cult of Souls and the conception of\nthe fate of departed spirits which governed this cult did not remain\nin Ionia (the beliefs of which country are reflected in Homer) what\nit had been at the height of the Mycen\u00e6an period. To this change, as\nto the others which accompanied it, we may well suppose that the\nstruggles and wanderings of the intermediate period contributed a\ngood deal. Homer's clear-sighted vision that transcends the limits\nof city and even of racial gods, faiths, and worships, would hardly\nbe explicable without the freedom of movement beyond the boundaries\nof country, the common life shared with companions of other races,\nthe widened knowledge of all the conditions of foreign life, such as\nmust have resulted from the dislocations and migrations of whole\npeoples. It is true that the Ionians of Asia Minor did, as we can\nprove, take a good many of their religious observances with them to\ntheir new homes. The migrations, however, did not preserve the\nconnexion between the old homes and the new country with anything\nlike the closeness that marked the later colonization; and when the\ncolonists left the familiar soil behind, the local cults attached to\nthe soil must often have had to be abandoned, too. Now the worship\nof ancestors, connected as it was with the actual graves of those\nancestors, was essentially a _local_ cult. Remembrance of the great\nones of the past might survive transplantation, but not their\nreligious worship, which could only be offered at the one spot {28}\nwhere their bodies lay buried and which had now been left behind in\nan enemy's country. The deeds of ancestors lived on in song, but\nthey themselves began to be relegated to the domain of poetry and\nimagination. Imagination might adorn the story of their earthly\nlife, but a world that was no longer reminded of their power by the\nregularly repeated performance of ceremonial, ceased to pay honour\nto their disembodied souls. Thus the most highly developed form of\nthe cult of Souls--ancestor worship--died out, and the later version\nof the same thing, the cult of those of the tribe that had died in\nthe new land and been buried there, was prevented from attaining a\nsimilar force and development by the newly-introduced practice of\nburning the bodies of the dead. It may well be that the _origin_ of\nthis new form of funeral rite lay, as has been suggested, in the\nwish to dismiss the soul of the dead man as quickly and completely\nas possible from the realm of the living; but it is beyond doubt\nthat the _result_ of this practice was to cut at the root of the\nbelief in the near presence of the departed and the duty of\nperforming the religious observances that were their right; so that\nsuch things being deprived of their support, fell into decay and\ndisappeared.\n\n\u00a7 3\n\nWe can thus see at least dimly how it was that the Ionian people of\nthe Homeric age were led by the events of their own history and the\nalteration in funeral customs into holding that view of the soul\nwhich a study of their own poets has persuaded us was theirs. This\nview can hardly have retained more than a few stray vestiges of the\nancient cult of the dead. Still, we should only be in a position to\nsay what were the real reasons for this alteration in belief and\ncustom if we knew and understood more about the _intellectual_\nchanges that led to the gradual appearance of the Homeric view of\nthe world; a view which included within its range a set of beliefs\nabout the soul. Here it is best to confess our ignorance. We have\nbefore us the results only of those changes. From them, however, we\ncan at least perceive that the religious consciousness of the\nGreeks, among whom Homer sang, had developed in a direction which\ndid not allow much scope to the belief in ghosts and spirits of the\ndead. The Homeric Greeks had the deepest consciousness of man's\nfinite nature, of his dependence upon forces that lay without him.\nTo remind himself of this and be content with his lot was his proper\nform of piety. Over him the gods hold sway, wielding a supernatural\npower--{29}not infrequently a misguided and capricious power--but a\nconception of a general world-order is beginning to make its way; of\na plan underlying the cross-purposes of individual and common life,\nworking itself out in accordance with measured and appointed lot\n(~moi=ra~). The arbitrary power of individual _daimones_ is thus\nlimited, and it is limited further by the will of the highest of the\ngods. The belief is growing that the world is, in fact, a cosmos, a\nperfect organization such as men try to establish in their earthly\nstates. In the face of such conceptions it would be increasingly\ndifficult to believe in the vagaries of a supernatural ghostly order\nwhich, in direct opposition to the real heavenly order, is always\ndistinguished by the fact that it stands outside any all-embracing\ndispensation, and allows full play to the caprice and malice of\nindividual unseen powers. The irrational and the unaccountable is\nthe natural element of the belief in ghosts and spirits; this is the\nsource of the peculiar disquiet inspired by this province of belief\nor superstition. It owes most of its effect to the instability of\nits fibres. The Homeric world, on the contrary, lives by reason; its\ngods are fully intelligible to Greek minds and their forms and\nbehaviour are clearly and easily comprehensible to Greek\nimagination. And the more distinctly were the gods represented, the\nmore did the spirit-phantoms fade away into empty shadows. There was\nno one who might have been interested in the preservation and\nextension of the superstitious side of religion; there was in\nparticular no priesthood with a monopoly of instruction or an\nexclusive knowledge of the details of ritual and the methods of\ncontrolling the behaviour of spirits. If anyone did possess any\nmonopoly of teaching, it was, in this age when all the highest\nfaculties of the spirit found their expression in poetry, the poet\nand the singer. They, however, showed a completely \"secular\" outlook\neven in religious matters. Indeed, these very clear-headed men,\nbelonging to the same stock which in a later age \"invented\" (if one\nmay be allowed to put it so science and philosophy, were already\ndisplaying a mental attitude that distantly threatened the whole\nsystem of that plastic representation of things spiritual which the\nolder antiquity had laboriously constructed.\n\nThe earliest view held by primitive man about the activities of\nwilling, feeling, or thinking, regards them simply as the\nmanifestations of something which lives and wills inside the visible\nman. This something is regarded as embodied in one or other of the\norgans of the human body or as concealed {30} therein. Accordingly\nthe Homeric poems give the name of the \"midriff\" (~phr\u00ea/n,\nphre/nes~) to most of the phenomena of will or feeling and even to\nthose of the intellect. The \"heart\" (~\u00ea=tor, k\u00ea=r~) is also the name\nof a variety of feelings that were regarded as located in the heart\nand even identified with it. But this mode of expression had already\nfor Homer become mere formula; such expressions are not always to be\ntaken literally; the words of the poet often show that as a matter\nof fact he thought of these functions and emotions as incorporeal,\nthough they were still named after parts of the body.[57\\1] And so\nwe often find mentioned side by side with the \"midriff\" and in the\nclosest conjunction with it, the ~thumo/s~, a name which is not\ntaken from any bodily organ and shows already that it is thought of\nas an immaterial function. In the same way many other words of this\nkind (~no/os-noei=n-no/\u00eama, boul\u00ea/, me/nos, m\u00ea=tis~) are used to\ndescribe faculties and activities of the will, sense, or thought,\nand show that these activities are thought of as independent,\nfree-working, and incorporeal. A single thread still attaches the\npoet to the modes of conception and expression of the older world,\nbut he himself has penetrated adventurously far into the realm of\npure spirit. With a less cultured people the identification of the\nspecial functions of the will and the intellect only leads to the\nmaterialization of these into the notion of special physical\nentities, and consequently to the association of still other\n\"souls\", in the shape of \"Conscience\", it may be, or \"Will\", in\naddition to that other shadowy \"double\" of mankind, the \"second\nself\".[58\\1] The tendency of the Homeric singers was already setting\nin just the opposite direction--the mythology of the \"inner man\" was\nbreaking down altogether. They had only to take a few steps further\nin the same direction to find that they could dispense with the\n_psyche_ as well. The belief in the existence of the psyche was the\noldest and most primitive hypothesis adopted by mankind to explain\nthe phenomena of dreams, swoons, and ecstatic visions; these\nmysterious states were accounted for by the intervention of a\nspecial material personality. Now, Homer has little interest in\npremonitions and ecstatic states, and no inclination in that\ndirection whatever. He cannot, therefore, have been very much\nconcerned with the evidence for the existence of a psyche in living\nmen. The final proof of the idea that the psyche must have been\ndwelling in man is the fact that it is separated from him in death.\nA man dies when he breathes out his last breath. This breath,\nsomething like a breath of air, and not a \"nothing\", any more than\nthe wind its relative, {31} but a body with a definite form (though\nit may not be visible to waking eyes)--this is the psyche, whose\nshape, the image of the man himself, is well known from\ndream-vision. One, however, who has become accustomed to the idea of\nbodiless powers working inside man will, on this last occasion when\nthe powers within man show themselves, be likely to suppose that\nwhat brings about the death of a man is not a physical thing that\ngoes out of him, but a power--a quality--which ceases to act;\nnothing else, in fact, than his \"life\". And he would not, of course,\nthink of ascribing an independent continuous existence after the\ndisruption of the body to a mere abstract idea like \"life\". Homer,\nhowever, never got quite as far as this; for the most part the\npsyche is for him and always remains a real \"thing\"--the man's\nsecond self. But that he had already begun to tread the slippery\npath in the course of which the psyche is transformed into an\nabstract \"concept of life\", is shown by the fact that he several\ntimes quite unmistakably uses the word \"psyche\" when we should say\n\"life\".[59\\1] It is essentially the same mode of thought that leads\nhim to say \"midriff\" (~phre/nes~) when he no longer means the\nphysical diaphragm, but the abstract concept of will or intellect.\nTo say \"psyche\" instead of \"life\" is not the same thing as saying\n\"life\" instead of \"psyche\" (and Homer never did the latter); but it\nis clear that for him in the process of dematerializing such\nconcepts, even the psyche, a figure once so full of significance, is\nbeginning to fade and vanish away.\n\nThe separation from the land of their forefathers, and habituation\nto the use of cremation, the new direction taken by religious\nthought, the tendency to turn the once material forces of man's\ninner life into attractions--all these things contributed to weaken\nthe belief in a powerful and significant life of the disembodied\nsoul and its connexion with the affairs of this world. And at the\nsame time it caused the decline of the cult of the Souls. So much, I\nthink, we may safely assert. The deepest and most fundamental\nreasons for this decline in both belief and cult may elude our\nsearch, just as it is impossible for us to be sure how far in detail\nthe Homeric poems reflect the beliefs of the people who first\nlistened to them, and where the free invention of the poet begins.\nBut the combination of the various elements of belief into a whole\nwhich, though far from being a dogmatically closed system, may yet\nnot unfairly be called the Homeric Theology--this, we may say, is\nmost probably the work of the poet. The poet has a free hand in the\npicture he gives of the gods and never comes into conflict with any\npopular doctrine because Greek {32} religion then, as always,\nconsisted essentially in the right honouring of the gods of the\ncountry and not in any particular set of dogmas. There could hardly\nbe any general conception of godhead and divinity with which the\npoet might come into conflict. That the popular mind absorbed\nthoroughly that picture of the world of gods which the Homeric poems\nhad given, is shown by the whole future development of Greek culture\nand religion. If divergent conceptions did, in fact, also maintain\nthemselves, they derived their strength not so much from a different\nreligious theory, as from the postulates of a different religious\n_cult_ that had not been influenced by any poet's imagination. They\nmight also more particularly have had the effect of causing an\nincidental obscurity within the epic itself, in the poet's vision of\nthe Unseen World and its life.\n\nIII\n\nA test case of the thorough-going uniformity and consistency of the\nHomeric conception of the nature and circumstances of the souls of\nthe departed is provided for us, within the limits of the poems\nthemselves, by the story of Odysseus' _Journey to Hades_--a test\nthey are hardly likely to survive, it may well be thought. How is\nthe poet in describing a living hero's dealings with the inhabitants\nof the shadow-world, going to preserve the immaterial, dreamlike\ncharacter of the Homeric \"Souls\"? How keep up the picture of the\nsoul as something that holds itself resolutely aloof and seems to\navoid all active intercourse with other folk? It is hard to see what\ncould tempt the poet to try and penetrate with the torch of\nimagination into this underworld of ineffectual shadows. The matter\nbecomes somewhat more intelligible, however, as soon as it is\nrealized in what manner the narrative arose; how through continual\nadditions from later hands it gradually assumed a form quite unlike\nitself.[60\\1]\n\n\u00a7 1\n\nIt may be taken as one of the few certain results of the critical\nanalysis of the Homeric poems that the narrative of the Descent of\nOdysseus to the Underworld did not form part of the original plan of\nthe Odyssey. Kirke bids Odysseus undertake the journey to Hades in\norder that he may see Teiresias there and be told of \"the way and\nthe means of his return, and how he may reach his home again over\nthe fish-teeming deep\" (_Od._ x, 530 f.). Teiresias, however, on\nbeing {33} discovered in the realm of shadows, fulfils this\nrequirement only very partially and superficially. Whereupon, Kirke\nherself gives to the returned Odysseus a much fuller account, and as\nregards the one point already mentioned by Teiresias, a much more\nprecise account, of the perils that lie before him on his homeward\njourney.[61\\1] The journey to the land of the dead was thus\nunnecessary, and there can be no doubt that originally it had no\nplace in the poem. It is plain, however, that the composer of this\nadventure only used the (superfluous) inquiry addressed to Teiresias\nas a pretext which afforded a more or less plausible motive for the\nintroduction of this narrative into the body of the poem. The real\nobject of the poet, the true motive of the story, must then be\nsought elsewhere than in the prophecy of Teiresias, which turns out\nto be so brief and unhelpful. It would be natural to suppose that\nthe aim of the poet was to give the eye of imagination a glimpse\ninto the marvels and terrors of that dark realm into which all men\nmust go. Such an intention would be very intelligible in the case of\na medieval or a Greek poet of later times; and there were afterwards\nplenty of Greek poems which described a Descent to Hades. But it\nwould be hard to account for it in a poet of the Homeric school; for\nsuch a poet the realm of the dead and its inhabitants could hardly\nsupply a subject for a narrative. And, in fact, the inventor of\nOdysseus' visit to the dead had quite a different object in view. He\nwas anything but a Greek Dante. It is possible to see the purpose\nwhich guided him as soon as his poem is stripped of the manifold\nadditions with which later times invested it. The original kernel\nwhich thus remains is then seen to be nothing but a series of\nconversations between Odysseus and the souls of those of the dead\nwith whom he had stood in close personal relationship. Besides\nTeiresias he speaks with his old ship-companion Elpenor, who had\njust died, with his mother Antikleia, with Agamemnon and Achilles;\nand he tries in vain to effect a reconciliation with the implacable\nAias. These conversations in Hades are, for the general furtherance\nof the story of Odysseus' wanderings and return, quite superfluous,\nand they serve in a very minor degree and only incidentally to give\ninformation about the conditions and character of the inscrutable\nworld beyond the grave. The questions and answers there given are\nconfined entirely to the affairs of the upper world. They bring\nOdysseus, who has now been wandering so long alone and far from the\nworld of actual humanity, into ideal association with the\nsubstantial world of flesh and blood to which his thoughts {34}\nstretch out, and in which he himself had once been an actor and is\nsoon to play an important part again.[62\\1] His mother informs him\nof the distracted state of Ithaca, Agamemnon of the treacherous deed\nof Aigisthos carried out with the help of Klytaimnestra. Odysseus\nhimself is able to console Achilles with an account of the heroic\ndeeds of his son, who is still alive in the daylight; with Aias,\nresentful even in Hades, he cannot come to terms. Thus the theme of\nthe second part of the Odyssey begins to appear; even to the shadows\nbelow there reaches an echo of the great deeds of the Trojan war and\nof the adventures of the Return from Troy, which occupied the minds\nof all the singers of the time. The introduction of these stories by\nmeans of conversations with the persons who took part in them is the\nessential purpose of the poet. The impelling instinct to expand in\nall directions the circle of legend in whose centre stood the\nadventure of the Iliad, and link it up with other circles of heroic\nlegend, was fully satisfied by later poets in the separate poems of\nthe Epic Cycle. At the time when the Odyssey was composed these\nother epic narratives were in the full tide of their youthful\nexuberance. The streams had not yet found a convenient bed in which\nto run, and they added their individual contributions (for they all\nrelated events which preceded it) to the elaborate narration of the\nreturn of the last Hero who still wandered vainly and alone. The\nmain object of the story of Telemachos' journey to meet Nestor and\nMenelaos (in the third and fourth books of the Odyssey) is\nmanifestly to bring the son into relation with the father's\ncompanions in war, and so to provide occasion for further narratives\nin which a more detailed picture of some of the events between the\nIliad and the Odyssey might be given. Demodokos, the Ph\u00e6acian bard,\nis made to recount (in abbreviated form) two adventures that had\noccurred to the great chieftain. Even when such stories did not\nimmediately add to the picture of Odysseus' deeds or character, they\nserved to point to the great background from which the adventures of\nthe much-enduring wanderer, now completely isolated, should stand\nout; and to set these in the ideal framework which could alone give\nthem their full significance. This natural creative instinct of\nlegendary poetry also inspired the poet of the \"Journey to Hades\".\nHe, too, saw the adventures of Odysseus not in isolation but in\nlively and vital connexion with all the other adventures that took\ntheir origin from Troy. He conceived the idea of bringing once more,\nfor the last time, the chieftain famed in council and war, into\ncommunication with the mightiest king and the noblest {35} hero of\nthat famous expedition; and to do that he had to take him to the\nrealm of the shadows which had long contained them. Nor could he\nwell avoid the tone of pathos which is natural to this interview on\nthe borders of the realm of nothingness to which all the desire and\nthe strength of life must eventually come. The questioning of\nTeiresias is merely, as has been said, the poet's pretext for\nconfronting Odysseus with his mother and his former companions, and\nthis meeting was his prime motive. Probably this particular device\nwas suggested by the recollection of the story which Menelaos tells\nof his meeting with Proteus, the Old Man of the Sea (_Od._ iv, 351\nff.),[63\\1] where the inquiry from the seer as to the means of\nreaching home again is also a mere pretext for the narration of\nReturn adventures--those of Aias, Agamemnon, and Odysseus.\n\n\u00a7 2\n\nIt is certain that the intention of this poet cannot possibly have\nbeen simply the description of the underworld for its own sake. Even\nthe scenery of these mysterious incidents which might well have\nattracted his fancy, is only given in brief allusions. The ship\nsails over Okeanos to the people of the Kimmerians[64\\1] that never\nsee the sun, and reaches at last the \"barren coast\" and the \"Grove\nof Persephone\", with its black poplars and weeping willows. Odysseus\nwith two companions goes on ahead to the entrance of Erebos, where\nPyriphlegethon and Kokytos, a branch of the Styx, flow into Acheron.\nThere he digs his sacrificial trench to which the souls flock upward\nout of Erebos over the asphodel-meadows. It is the same underworld\nin the bowels of the earth that is presupposed in the Iliad, too, as\nthe dwelling-place of the dead, only more accurately described and\nmore fully realized.[65\\1] The details of the picture are so lightly\nsketched in that one might well suppose that they, too, had been\ntaken from some older mythical material. At any rate, he borrowed\nthe \"Styx\", so well known in the Iliad; and it may be supposed that\nthe same applies to the other rivers as well, whose names are\nclearly derived from words meaning burning (of dead bodies?),[66\\1]\nlamentation, and sorrow.[67\\1] The poet himself, interested only in\nthe representation of character, is not at all disposed to dwell\nupon the merely fanciful, and confines himself to a few brief\nallusions. Nor does he give any very lengthy account of the dwellers\nin Erebos, and what he does say of them keeps well within the limits\nof the usual Homeric belief. The Souls resemble shadow- or\ndream-pictures, and {36} are impalpable to the human touch.[68\\1]\nThey are without consciousness when they appear. Elpenor alone,\nwhose body still lies unburnt, has for that very reason retained his\nsenses and even shows a form of heightened consciousness that\napproaches prophecy; resembling in this respect Patroklos and Hektor\nat the moment when the psyche is parted from the body.[69\\1] This,\nhowever, is to leave him as soon as his corpse is destroyed.\nTeiresias alone, the prophet famed above all others in Theban\nlegend, has preserved his consciousness and prophetic vision even in\nthe Shadow-world through the good-will of Persephone; but this is an\nexception which only establishes the rule. What Antikleia tells her\nson of the powerlessness and immateriality of the soul after the\nburning of the body[70\\1] sounds almost like an official\nconfirmation of the orthodox Homeric view. Everything, in fact, in\nthis poet's description enforces the truth of this belief, and\nthough the living are, indeed, untroubled by the feeble souls\nbanished to outer darkness, yet out of Erebos itself the piteous\nknell of this decree reaches us in the lament of Achilles as he\nrefuses his friend's attempt at comfort--everyone knows the\nunforgettable words.\n\n\u00a7 3\n\nAnd yet the poet ventures to go beyond Homer in one important point.\nWhat he hints rather than actually says of the condition of things\nin Hades conflicts in no single point with the conventional Homeric\nview; but it is an innovation to suggest that this condition of\nthings can even for the briefest moment be interrupted. The blood\ndrunk by the souls gives them back for a moment their consciousness;\ntheir remembrance of the upper world returns to them. Their senses\nmust then all the while have been not dead but sleeping. There can\nbe no doubt that the poet for whom this supposition is indispensable\nto his story did not thereby intend to formulate an entirely new\ndoctrine. But in order to add to his poetic effect, he was led to\ninclude in his story some touches which, meaningless within the\ncircle of his own beliefs, pointed elsewhere, and, indeed, backward,\nto older, quite differently moulded beliefs, and to the usages\nfounded upon them. He makes Odysseus, following the advice of Kirke,\ndig a grave at the entrance of Hades in which to pour out a solemn\ndrink-offering to \"all the dead\", consisting first of all in a\nmixture of milk and honey, then wine and water, over which white\nmeal is finely sprinkled. Next he slays a ram and a black ewe,\nbending their heads downwards into the grave.[71\\1] {37} Then the\nbodies of the animals are burnt, and round the blood collect all the\nsouls, who flutter about it, kept at a distance by Odysseus'\nsword[72\\1] till Teiresias has first drunk. Here the drink-offerings\nconstitute undoubtedly a sacrificial offering devoted to the dead\nand poured out for their satisfaction. The poet indeed does not\nthink of the slaughtered animals as a sacrifice; the tasting of the\nblood is simply intended to restore to the souls their\nconsciousness; in the case of Teiresias, who retains his senses, the\ngift of prophetic clairvoyance. But this, we can see clearly, is a\nfiction of the poet's: what he here describes is in every detail a\nsacrifice to the dead, such as we so often find described as such in\naccounts from later times. The scent of the blood calls up the\nspirits; their satiation with blood (~haimakouri/a~) is the\nessential purpose of such offerings; and these are what the poet's\nimagination dimly recalls as models. Nothing in this picture has\nbeen invented. Neither, on the other hand, it is quite clear, has he\naltered his sacrificial ceremony to make it fit in with _novel_\nideas that were beginning to gain ground; ideas that ascribed a more\nvital existence to the souls of the dead. For here, too, just as in\nthe case of the offerings to the dead described in the funeral of\nPatroklos, the poet's manner of conceiving the life of the dead is\nnot such as could give support to new and more vigorous cult\nceremonies. His conception tends rather to contradict the ceremonies\nthat he describes. In fact, what we have here, too, is a\n\"fossilized\" and no longer intelligible vestige of a practice that\nwas once rooted in belief--a relic deprived of its original meaning\nand adapted by the poet to the special purposes of his narrative.\nThe sacrificial ritual used to attract the souls on this occasion\nstrikingly resembles the ritual which was used in later times to\nconjure up the souls of the dead at those places which were supposed\nto give entrance to the ghostly world below the earth. It is also\nnot impossible that, even in the time of the poet of the \"Journey to\nHades\", in some remote corners of Greek lands such calling-up of the\ndead was still practised as a relic of former belief. But, supposing\nthat the poet had some information of such local cults of the dead,\nand modelled his story on them,[73\\1] that only makes it the more\nremarkable that he effaces all trace of the original meaning of his\nritual, and in adherence to the strict Homeric doctrine on the\npoint, banishes all thought that the souls may possibly continue in\nthe neighbourhood of the living and can thence be conjured up into\nthe light of day.[74\\1] He knows only of one kingdom of the Dead far\noff in the dim West, beyond the bounds of sea {38} and ocean, where\nthe legendary hero of romance can, indeed, reach its gateway, but\nwhere alone he can have communication with the souls of the dead.\nThe House of Hades never allows its inhabitants to pass out.\n\nAnd yet all this is hopelessly contradicted by the votive offerings\nthat the poet, by what can only be called an oversight, makes\nOdysseus promise to all the dead, and particularly to Teiresias,\nupon his return home (_Od._ x, 521-6; xi, 29-33). Of what use would\nit be to the dead to receive the offering of a \"barren cow\",[75\\1] of\n\"treasures\" burnt upon the funeral pyre; or how could Teiresias\nenjoy the slaughtering of a black sheep far away in Ithaca--when\nthey are all confined to Erebos and could not taste the offerings\nmade to them? This is the most remarkable and important of all\nvestiges of an ancient worship of the dead. It proves indubitably\nthat in pre-Homeric times the belief prevailed that even after the\nfuneral of the body the soul is not eternally banished to the\ninaccessible land of shadows, but is able to approach the sacrificer\nand to enjoy the sacrifices offered to it, just as much as the gods\ncan. A single obscure allusion in the Iliad[76\\1] suggests what is\nhere much more clearly and almost na\u00efvely revealed--namely that even\nat the time when the Homeric view of the nothingness of the souls\nfor ever parted from their bodies reigned supreme, the custom of\nmaking offerings to the dead after the funeral was over (though in\nexceptional circumstances only, and not as a regularly recurring\nperformance had not been entirely forgotten.\n\n\u00a7 4\n\nThe contradictions into which he is betrayed by the introduction of\nsuch intercourse between the living and the dead proves that the\nundertaking was rather venturesome for a Homeric poet of strictly\northodox views. Still, in the picture of Odysseus' meeting with his\nmother and former companions, which was his main object, the poet\nhardly strayed at all from the normal Homeric path. This, however,\nwas, as it happened, the very point in which later generations of\npoetically inclined readers or hearers found his narrative wanting.\nHe himself carefully linked up every detail with his living hero,\nthe central interest of his story, and only made him speak with the\nsouls of such as had some real and close connexion with him. A\nreview of the motley inhabitants of the underworld in their\nmultitude hardly interested him at all. It was the very thing which\nseemed indispensable to later readers. They made additions to his\nstory and introduced the multitudes of the dead of all ages; the\nwarriors with {39} wounds still visible and in bloodstained\narmour;[77\\1] or else, more in the manner of a Hesiodic catalogue\nfor the assistance of the memory than making them live in Homeric\nfashion for the imagination, they pictured a whole host of mothers,\nthe illustrious ancestors of great families, passing before\nOdysseus, though they had no particular claim upon his sympathy;\nnor, indeed, is any serious attempt made to bring them into\nrelationship with him.[78\\1] This seemed to improve the picture of\nthe general multitude of the dead, represented in the persons of\nselected individuals. Next, the condition of things in the world\nbelow must at least be illustrated by a few examples. Odysseus casts\na glance into the inner recesses of the underworld--which was hardly\npossible for him, considering that he stood at its outermost\ngateway--and sees there the heroic figures of those who, like true\n\"images\" (~ei/d\u00f4la~) of the living, still continue the activities of\ntheir former lives. There he sees Minos giving judgment among the\ndead, Orion hunting, Herakles still with the bow in his hand, and\nthe arrow fitted to the string, \"like one ever about to shoot.\" This\nis certainly not Herakles, the \"Hero-God\", as he was known to later\nages. The poet knows nothing as yet of the elevation of the son of\nZeus above the lot of all mortals--any more than the earliest poet\nof the \"Journey\" knew of the translation of Achilles out of Hades.\nThe disregard of such things was naturally regarded by later readers\nas a negligence on the part of the poet. And, in fact, they boldly\ninserted three verses here which inform us that he \"himself\", the\nreal Herakles, dwells among the gods--what Odysseus saw in Hades was\nonly his counterfeit. Whoever wrote this was practising a little\noriginal theology on his own account. Such a contrast between a\nfully animated \"self\" possessing the original man's body and soul\nstill united, and a counterfeit presentment of himself (which cannot\nbe his psyche relegated to Hades, is quite strange both to Homer and\nto Greek thought of later times.[79\\1] It is, in fact, an example of\nthe earliest \"harmonizer's\" solution of a difficulty. The poet does,\nindeed, attempt to connect Herakles with Odysseus by making the two\nenter into conversation, in imitation of the conversations with\nAgamemnon and Achilles. But it is soon evident that these two have\nreally nothing to say to each other; Odysseus, in fact, is silent.\nThere was no real relationship between them, at most an analogy;\nHerakles, too, having once descended alive into Hades. This analogy\nalone, in fact, appears to have suggested the introduction of\nHerakles in this place.[80\\1] {40}\n\nThere now remains (inserted after Minos and Orion and before\nHerakles and probably composed by the same hand that was responsible\nfor them) the incident of the three \"penitents\" undergoing\npunishment; a passage that no reader can possibly forget. First\nTityos, whose giant frame is preyed upon by two vultures, is seen,\nthen Tantalos, who in the middle of a lake is parched with thirst\nand cannot reach up to the fruit-laden branches over his head, and\nlast Sisyphos, who is bound to roll up-hill the stone that ever\nrolls back again. The limits of the Homeric conception (with which\nthe pictures of Minos, Orion, and Herakles might still perhaps be\nreconciled) are in these pictures definitely overstepped. The souls\nof these three unfortunates are credited with complete and\ncontinuous consciousness. Without this, their punishment would not\nhave been felt and would not have been inflicted. And, observing the\nextraordinarily matter-of-fact and cursory description, which takes\nthe reasons of the punishment for granted except in the case of\nTityos, we cannot help feeling that these examples of punishment\nafter death were not invented for the first time by the composer of\nthese lines. They cannot have been offered to the astonished ears of\ntheir hearers as a daring novelty, but were rather recalled briefly\nto those hearers' recollection. Probably these three are selected as\nexamples out of a much larger collection of such pictures. Can it be\nthat still older poets (who may still, however, have been more\nrecent than the poet of the earliest parts of the \"Journey\") had\nalready dared to desert the Homeric view of the soul?\n\nHowever that may be, we may be sure that the punishment of the three\n\"penitents\" was not intended to contradict flatly the Homeric\nconception of the unconsciousness and nothingness of the shades.\nThey could not in that case have accommodated themselves so well to\na poem that is founded upon such conceptions. They do not disprove\nthe rule because they are, and are only intended to be, _exceptions_\nto that rule. This, however, would be impossible if it were\njustifiable to interpret the poet's fiction as representing, in the\nperson of these three unfortunates, three types of special sins and\nclasses of sinners; as, for example, unbridled Lust (Tityos),\ninsatiable Gluttony (Tantalos), and Pride of the Intellect\n(Sisyphos).[81\\1] They would in that case be particular examples of\nthe retribution which one must think of as being extended to all the\ninnumerable hosts of shadows who have been guilty of the same sins.\nBut nothing in the description itself warrants such a theological\ninterpretation; indeed, we have no reason {41} or excuse for\nattributing to this particular poet such a desire to prove the\nexistence of a compensatory justice in an after life. It is quite\nstrange to Homer, and so far as it ever became known to later Greek\ntheology, it was only introduced very late, through the influence of\na speculative mysticism. No, the almighty power of the gods is able\nin special cases, so this picture assures us, to preserve for\nindividual souls their consciousness; in the case of Teiresias as a\nreward, in the case of these three objects of the gods' hatred, in\norder that they may be capable of feeling their punishment. The real\nfault for which they are punished can be guessed fairly certainly\nfrom what the poet tells us about Tityos--it is in each case a\ngrievous offence committed by them against the gods. The crime of\nTantalos we can make out from what we know of him through other\nsources. It is less easy to discover what was the exact misdeed for\nwhich the crafty Sisyphos is punished.[82\\1] In any case, it is\nclear that retribution has overtaken all three of them for sins\nagainst the gods themselves--sins which human beings of later times\ncould not possibly commit. And for this reason alone, neither their\ndeeds nor their punishment can have anything typical or\nrepresentative about them; they are sheer exceptions, and that is\nwhy the poet found them interesting.\n\nThe episode of Odysseus' journey to Hades (even in its latest\nportions) suggests no acquaintance whatever with any general class\nof sinners who receive their punishment in that place. If, indeed,\nit had alluded to the punishment in the after-world of _perjurers_,\northodox Homeric doctrine would not in that case have been violated.\nTwice over in the Iliad, on solemn occasions of oath-taking, besides\nthe gods of the upper world, the Erinyes also are called upon as\nwitnesses of the oath; for they punish under the earth those who\nbreak their oath.[83\\1] Not without reason have these passages been\nheld to show \"that the Homeric conception of the phantasmal\nhalf-life of the souls under the earth, where they are without\nfeeling or consciousness, was not a general folk-belief.\"[84\\1] We\nmust add, however, that the belief held in Homeric times of the\npunishment of oath-breakers in the realm of shadows cannot as yet\nhave been very vital, for it was quite unable to prevent the success\nof the totally incompatible belief in the unconscious nothingness of\ndisembodied spirits. A solemn oath-formula (so much that is\nprimitive persisting, even after it has become dead letter, in\nformula) preserved a reference to that ancient belief, which had\nbecome strange to Homeric ears--a vestige, in fact, of a bygone\npoint of view. It may be {42} that in the dim past, when men still\nvividly and literally believed in the reality of a punishment in\nafter life for perjury, all the souls in Hades were credited with a\nconscious existence; but there never was a time when men generally\nbelieved that earthly sins (including perjury as only one among\nmany) were punished in Hades. Oath-breaking was not punished as a\nspecially outrageous moral failing--it may well be doubted whether\nthe Greeks ever considered or felt it to be such. The perjurer,\nrather than any other particular sinner, was the special victim of\nthe dread goddesses, for the simple reason that the perjurer in his\ndesire to emphasize in the most awful manner his aversion to\nfalsehood, has invoked against himself, if he fails to keep his\noath, the most terrible fate of all--to suffer torment in the realm\nof Hades whence is no escape.[85\\1] To the Infernal Spirits of the\nUnderworld, to whom he had condemned himself, he falls a victim if\nhe breaks his word. Belief in the supernatural power of such\nimprecations,[86\\1] and not any special moral importance attached to\ntruth-telling--an idea quite strange to the older Antiquity--gave\nto the oath its peculiar terrors.\n\n\u00a7 5\n\nA final example of the tenacity with which custom may outlive the\nbelief on which it is founded is afforded by the story told of\nOdysseus, that in fleeing from the Kikonian land, he did not leave\nit until he had called thrice upon those of his companions who had\nfallen in the battle with the Kikones (_Od._ ix, 65-6). References\nto similar callings upon the dead in later literature make the\nmeaning of such behaviour clear. The souls of the dead who have\nfallen in foreign lands must be \"called\";[87\\1] they will then, if\nthis is properly done, follow the caller to their distant home,\nwhere an \"empty grave\" awaits them.[88\\1] This duty is regularly\nperformed in Homer for the benefit of those whose bodies it is\nimpossible to recover and bury in the proper way. But a summons of\nthe dead and the erection of such empty receptacles--intended for\nwhom if not for the souls who must then be accessible to the\ndevotion of their relations?--was natural enough for those who\nbelieved in the possibility of the soul's sojourn in the\nneighbourhood of its living friends; it was not admissible for\nsupporters of the Homeric belief. Here we have once more a\nremarkable vestige of an ancient belief, surviving in a custom that\nhas not been entirely given up even in altered times. Here, too, the\nbelief which had given rise to the custom, was extinct. {43} If we\nask the Homeric poet for what purpose a mound was heaped up over the\ngrave of the dead and a gravestone set upon it, he will answer us:\nin order that his fame may remain imperishable among men, and that\nfuture generations may not be ignorant of his story.[89\\1] That\nsounds truly Homeric. When a man dies his soul departs into a region\nof twilit dream-life; his body, the visible man, perishes. Only his\nglorious name, in fact, lives on. His praises speak to after ages\nfrom the monument to his honour on his grave-mound--and in the song\nof the bard. A _poet_ would naturally be inclined to think such\nthings.\n\n\nNOTES TO CHAPTER I\n\nI\n\n[1\\1: E. Kammer, _Einheit d. Odyssee_, 510 ff.]\n\n[2\\1: E.g. _Il._ ~A~ 3, ~polla\\s d' iphthi/mous _psucha\\s_\n(kephala/s~ Apol. Rhod., as in ~L~ 55: mistakenly) ~A/\u00efdi pro\u00ef/apsen\nh\u00ear\u00f4/\u00f4n, _autou\\s_ de\\ hel\u00f4/ria teu=che ku/nessin.~ ~Ps~ 105,\n~pannuchi/\u00ea ga\\r moi Patrokl\u00ea=os deiloi=o _psuch\u00ea\\_ ephest\u00ea/kei . .\n. e/\u00efkto de\\ the/skelon _aut\u00f4=|_~ (cf. 66).]\n\n[3\\1: E.g. ~L~ 262, ~e/nth' Ant\u00ea/noros hui=es hup' Atrei/d\u00ea|\nbasil\u00ea=i po/tmon anapl\u00ea/santes e/dun do/mon A/\u00efdos ei/s\u00f4~. The\n~_psuch\u00ea/_~ of Elpenor and afterwards that of Teiresias, of his\nmother, of Agamemnon, etc., is addressed by Odysseus in the Nekyia\nof the Od. simply as: ~Elp\u00ea=nor, Teiresi/\u00ea, m\u00ea=ter em\u00ea/~, etc. And\ncf. such expressions as: ~Ps~ 244, ~eis ho/ ken _auto\\s_ eg\u00f4\\ A/\u00efdi\nkeu/th\u00f4mai~, or ~O~ 251, ~kai\\ d\u00ea\\ e/g\u00f4g' epha/m\u00ean, ne/kuas kai\\\nd\u00f4=m' Ai/dao \u00ea/mati t\u00f4=|d' hi/xesthai . . .~ or ~X~ 456 f., etc.]\n\n[4\\1: The first view is N\u00e4gelsbach's, the second that of\nGrotemeyer.]\n\n[5\\1: And of civilized peoples, too, in antiquity. Just such a\nsecond self, an ~ei/d\u00f4lon~ duplicating the visible self of man,\nwere, in their original significance, the _genius_ of the Romans,\nthe _Fravashi_ of the Persians, the _Ka_ of the Egyptians.]\n\n[6\\1: ~hupoti/thetai~ (sc. Homer) ~ta\\s psucha\\s toi=s eid\u00f4/lois\ntoi=s en toi=s _kato/ptrois_ phainome/nois homoi/as kai\\ toi=s dia\\\nt\u00f4=n _huda/t\u00f4n_ sunistame/nois, ha\\ katha/pax h\u00eami=n exei/kastai\nkai\\ ta\\s kin\u00ea/seis mimei=tai steremni\u00f4/d\u00ea de\\ hupo/stasin oudemi/an\ne/chei eis anti/l\u00eapsin kai\\ haph\u00ea/n~, Apollod. ~p. the\u00f4=n~ ap.\nStob., _Ecl._ i, p. 420 W.]\n\n[7\\1: Cf. Cic., _Div._ i, 63: iacet corpus dormientis ut mortui,\nviget autem et vivit animus. Quod multo magis faciet post mortem cum\nomnino corpore excesserit. _TD_. i, 29: visis quibusdam saepe\nmovebantur eisque maxime nocturnis, ut viderentur ei qui vita\nexcesserant vivere. Here we have precise ancient testimony both for\nthe subjective and the objective elements in dreaming and for their\nimportance for the origin of belief about the soul.]\n\n[8\\1: ~To\\n d' e/lipe psuch\u00ea/ . . . au=tis d' ampnu/nth\u00ea~, ~E~ 696\nf. ~T\u00ea\\n de\\ kat' ophthalm\u00f4=n erebenn\u00ea\\ nu\\x eka/lupsen, \u00ea/ripe d'\nexopi/s\u00f4, apo\\ de\\ psuch\u00ea\\n eka/pussen . . . e/pei ou=n a/mpnuto\nkai\\ es phre/na thumo\\s age/rth\u00ea~--~Ch~ 466 ff., 475; and ~\u00f4~ 348:\n~apopsu/chonta~.]\n\n[9\\1: Speaking of _suspirium_ ( = ~leipopsuchi/a~), Sen., _Ep._ liv,\n2, says, medici hanc \"meditationem mortis\" vocant. faciet enim\naliquando spiritus ille quod saepe conatus est.]\n\n[10\\1: A remarkable idea seems to be obscurely suggested in an\nexpression such as that of ~x~ 207, ~all' \u00ea/toi to\\n K\u00ea=res e/ban\nthana/toio phe/rousai eis A\u00ef/dao do/mous~; cf. ~B~ 302. Usually the\nKeres bring death to men: here (like Thanatos himself in later\npoetry) they conduct the dead into the realm of Hades. They are\n_daimones_ of Hades, originally and primitively themselves souls of\nthe departed (see below, p. 168), and it is a natural idea to make\nsuch soul-spirits, hovering in the air, carry off the souls of men\njust dead to the realm of the souls. In Homer only a stereotyped\nphrase preserves the vague memory of such a conception.] {45}\n\n[11\\1: Of the dead we read in ~l~ 219, ~ou ga\\r e/ti sa/rkas te kai\\\noste/a i=nes e/chousi~. Taking the words strictly this might mean\nthat the dead possess sinews but not the flesh or bones that should\nbe held together by the sinews. This is how Nauck, in fact,\nunderstood the Homeric words: _M\u00e9langes Gr\u00e9corom._ iv, 718. But it\nis very difficult to picture \"shadows\" which in this manner possess\nsinews but no body of flesh and bones: the corrupt words of _fr._\n229, preserved apart from their context, are quite insufficient to\nprove that Aesch. derived such an unrealizable impression from the\nHomeric words.--That the poet of these lines from the Nek. simply\nmeant \"flesh, bones, and sinews, too, which might have held them\ntogether\", is shown quite clearly by what follows: ~alla\\ ta\\ me/n\nte puro\\s kratero\\n me/nos aithome/noio damna=|, epei/ ke pr\u00f4=ta\nli/p\u00ea| leu/k' oste/a thumo/s, psuch\u00ea\\ d' \u00ea\u00fc/t' o/neiros apoptame/n\u00ea\npepo/t\u00eatai~. How, then, could the fire help destroying the sinews\ntoo?]\n\n[12\\1: The sacrificial character of the proceedings at the _rogus_\nof Patroklos has again been called in question by v. Fritze, _de\nlibatione veterum Graecorum_, 71 f. (1893). He admits this\ninterpretation of the pouring of the blood on the pyre, but explains\nthe other circumstances differently. It would be quite easy to\ndisprove in this fashion the sacrificial character of every\n~holokau/t\u00f4ma~ for ~chtho/nioi~ whether Heroes or the dead. It is\ntrue that the bodies of sheep and cattle, horses and dogs, thus\ncompletely consumed by fire, are not a \"food-offering\", but they are\na sacrifice for all that, and belong to the class of expiatory\nofferings in which the flesh is not offered for the food of the\ndaimon but the lives of the victims are sacrificed to him. That\nAchilles slays the Trojan prisoners at the rogus ~ktame/noio\nchol\u00f4thei/s~ (~Ps~ 23) does not destroy the sacrificial character of\nthis offering intended to appease the wrath (felt also by Achilles)\nof the dead man.--The whole procedure gives a picture of primitive\nsacrificial ritual in honour of the dead and differs in no\nparticular from the ritual of sacrifice to the ~theoi\\ chtho/nioi~.\nThis is recognized by Stengel in his _Chthonischer und Todtencult_\n(_Festschr. Friedl\u00e4nd._), p. 432, who also marks clearly the\ndifferences between the two religious ceremonies as they were\ngradually evolved in the process of time.]\n\n[13\\1: It cannot be denied that the libation of wine poured out by\nAchilles during the night (to which he expressly summons the psyche\nof Patroklos, ~Ps~ 218-22) is _sacrificial_ in character, like all\nsimilar ~choai/~. The wine with which the embers of the funeral pyre\nare extinguished may have been intended to serve that purpose alone\nand not as a sacrifice. But the jars of honey and oil which Achilles\nhas placed upon the pyre (~Ps~ 170; cf. ~\u00f4~ 67-8) can hardly be\nregarded as anything but sacrificial (cf. Bergk, _Opusc._ ii, 675;\nacc. to Stengel, _Jahrb. Philol._, p. 649, 1887, they only serve to\nkindle the flames, but the honey, at any rate, seems a strange\nmaterial for the purpose. For libations at the _rogus_ or at the\ngrave honey and oil are regularly used--see Stengel himself, loc.\ncit., and _Philol._ xxxix, 378 ff.). Acc. to v. Fritze, _de libat._,\n72, the jars of honey and oil were intended not as libations but for\nthe \"bath of the dead\"--in the next world, in the Homeric\nHades!--Honey can only have been used for bathing purposes, in\nGreece as elsewhere, by those who unintentionally fell into it like\nGlaukos.]\n\n[14\\1: On Greek hair offerings see Wieseler, _Philol._ ix, 711 ff.,\nwho rightly regards these offerings as symbolic and as substitutes\nfor primitive human sacrifice. The same explanation of the offering\nof hair is given in the case of other peoples also; cf. Tylor, ii,\n401.] {46}\n\n[15\\1: Patroklos' request for prompt burial (69 ff.) gives no\nsufficient motive, since Achilles has already given orders for the\nfuneral to take place next day, 49 ff. (cf. 94 f.).]\n\n[16\\1: ll. 19; 179. Again, in the night following the erection of\nthe funeral pyre, when the body is burning, Achilles calls to the\nsoul of Patroklos ~psuch\u00ea\\n kikl\u00ea/sk\u00f4n Patrokl\u00ea=os deiloi=o~ 221.\nThe person thus called upon is evidently supposed to be still close\nat hand. This is not contradicted by the formula ~chai=re . . . kai\\\nein A\u00ef/dao do/moisi~ (19, 179), for in l. 19. at least, the words\ncannot mean _in Hades_, since the soul is still outside Hades, as it\ntells us itself, 71 ff. The words can only mean \"about\", \"before\"\nthe House of Hades (like ~en **potam\u00f4=|~ \"by the river\", etc.). In\nthe same way ~eis A\u00ef/dao do/mon~ often only means _towards_ the\nhouse of Hades (Ameis on ~k~ 512).]\n\n[17\\1: From descriptions in ancient poetry? or had similar\ncustoms--at least, at the funerals of chieftains--survived into the\npoet's own time? Especially magnificent, e.g., were the burials of\nSpartan kings--and also Cretan kings, it appears, so long as there\nwere any; cf. Arist. _fr._ 476, p. 1556a, 37 ff.]\n\n[18\\1: Funeral games for Amarynkeus, ~Ps~ 630 ff., for Achilles, ~\u00f4~\n85 ff. Such games are referred to as being quite the usual custom in\n~\u00f4~ 87 ff. Later poetry is full of descriptions of such ~ag\u00f4=nes\nepita/phioi~ of the heroic age.]\n\n[19\\1: As Aristarchos noticed: see _Rh. Mus._ 36, 544 f. Rather\ndifferent are the (certainly ancient) games and contests for the\nhand of a bride (cf. stories of Pelops, Danaos, Ikarios, etc.).]\n\n[20\\1: Cf. ~Ps~ 274, ~ei me\\n nu=n _epi\\_ a/ll\u00f4| aethleu/oimen\nAchaioi/~, i.e. in _honour_ of Patroklos; cf. 646: ~so\\n hetai=ron\nae/thloisi _ktere/\u00efze_~. ~ktere\u00ef/zein~ means to give the dead man\nhis ~kte/rea~, i.e. his former possessions (by burning them). The\ngames are therefore on exactly the same footing as the burning of\nthe personal effects of the dead in which the soul of the dead man\nwas supposed still to take pleasure.]\n\n[21\\1: Aug., _CD._ viii, 26: Varro dicit omnes mortuos existimari\nmanes deos, et probat per ea sacra quae omnibus fere mortuis\nexhibentur, ubi et ludos commemorat funebres, tamquam hoc sit\nmaximum divinitatis indicium, quod non solent ludi nisi numinibus\ncelebrari.]\n\n[22\\1: Quae pietas ei debetur a quo nihil acceperis? aut quid\nomnino, cuius nullum meritum sit, ei deberi potest? . . . (dei)\nquamobrem colendi sint non intellego nullo nec accepto ab eis nec\nsperato bono, Cic., _ND._ i, 116; cf. Pl., _Euthphr._ pass. Homer\nspeaks in the same way of the ~_amoib\u00ea\\_ agakleit\u00ea=s hekato/mb\u00eas~,\n~g~ 58-9 (cf. ~amoiba\\s t\u00f4=n thusi\u00f4=n~ from the side of the gods,\nPl. _Smp._, 202 E).]\n\n[23\\1: ~tou=to/ nu kai\\ ge/ras hoi=on o\u00efzuroi=si brotoi=sin,\nkei/rasthai/ te ko/m\u00ean bale/ein t' apo\\ da/kru parei\u00f4=n~, ~d~ 197\nf.; cf. ~\u00f4~ 188 f., 294 f.]\n\n[24\\1: ~ou ga\\r e/t' au=tis ni/somai ex' A\u00ef/dao ep\u00ea/n me puro\\s\nlela/ch\u00eate~, ~Ps~ 75 f.]\n\n[25\\1: ~--io/nti eis A\u00ef/dao chersi\\ kat' ophthalmou\\s ele/ein su/n\nte sto/m' erei=sai~, ~l~ 426; cf. ~L~ 453, ~\u00f4~ 296. To do this is\nthe duty of the next of kin, mother or wife. The necessity for\nclosing the sightless eyes and dumb mouth of the dead is\nintelligible without reference to any superstitious _arri\u00e8re\npens\u00e9e_. Such an idea is, however, dimly discernible in such a\nphrase as ~a/chris ho/tou _psuch\u00ea/n_ mou m\u00eatro\\s che/res ei=lan ap'\no/ss\u00f4n~, _Epigr. Gr._, 314, 24. Was there originally some idea of\nthe \"soul\" being released by these means?--Seat of the soul in the\n~ko/r\u00ea~ of the eye: ~psuchai\\ d' en ophthalmoi=si t\u00f4=n\nteleut\u00f4/nt\u00f4n~, Babr. 95, 35 (see Crusius, _Rh. Mus._ 46, 319).\nAugurium non timendi mortem in aegritudine quamdiu oculorum pupillae\nimaginem reddant, Plin., _N.H._ 28, 64; cf. Grimm, p. 1181. (If a\nperson can no longer see his or her ~ei/d\u00f4lon~ {47} in a mirror it\nis a sign of approaching death, Oldenburg, _Rel. d. Ved._, 526 [p.\n449^3 French tr.].)--Among many peoples it is believed that the eyes\nof the dead must be closed in order to prevent the dead person\nseeing or haunting anyone in the future: Robinsohn, _Psychol. d.\nNaturv._, 44; cf. Cic., _Verr._ v, 118 (of the Greeks); Vg., _A._\niv, 684 f.: extremus si quis super halitus errat ore legam. Serv. ad\nloc.: muliebriter, tamquam possit animam sororis excipere et in se\ntransferre (cf. _Epigr. Gr._, 547; _IG. Sic. et It._, 607e, 9-10).\n~psuch\u00ea/~ making its exit through the mouth: ~I~ 409; cf. \"Among the\nSeminoles of Florida when a woman died in childbirth the infant was\nheld over her face to receive her parting spirit and thus acquire\nstrength and knowledge for future use,\" Tylor, i, 433.]\n\n[26\\1: And even ~ana\\ pro/thuron tetramme/nos~, ~T~ 212, i.e. with\nfeet turned towards the door. The reason for this custom--which\nexisted elsewhere, too, and still exists--is hardly to be sought\nonly in the _ritus naturae_, as Plin. 7, 46, thinks. This has\ngenerally little to do with the customs observed on the solemn\noccasions of life. The meaning of the practice is much more naively\nrevealed in a statement about the manners of the Pehuenchen Indians\nin South America given by P\u00f6pig, _Reise in Chile, Peru, etc._, i,\n393. There they carry the dead man feet foremost out of the door\n\"because if the corpse of the dead man were carried out otherwise\nhis wandering ghost might come back into the house\". The Greek\ncustom, though in Homeric times long faded to a mere symbol, must be\nsupposed to have depended originally upon similar fears of the\nreturn of the \"soul\". (Similar precautions arising from the same\nbelief were customary at funerals elsewhere: Oldenberg, _Rel. d.\nVeda_, 573-4 [489 F.T.]. Robinsohn, _Psychol. d. Naturv._, 45 f.)\nBelief in the incomplete departure of the soul from this world has\ndictated these customs, too.]\n\n[27\\1: The details of the procedure until the funeral dirge are\ngiven in ~S~ 343-55.]\n\n[28\\1: ~tu/mbos~ and ~st\u00ea/l\u00ea, P~ 457, 675, ~R~ 434, ~L~ 371, ~m~ 14.\nA heaped-up ~s\u00ea=ma~ as the burial-place of Eetion round which the\nNymphs plant elms: ~Z~ 419 ff.--which preserves a trace of the\ncustom, obtaining also in later times, of planting trees and even a\nwhole grove round the grave.]\n\n[29\\1: ~kte/rea ktere\u00ef/zein~ in the formula ~s\u00eama/ te/ hoi cheu=ai\nkai\\ epi\\ kte/rea ktere\u00ef/zein~, ~a~ 291, ~b~ 222. Here the\n~ktere\u00ef/zein~ comes after the heaping up of the\ngrave-mound--possibly the ~kte/rea~ are to be burnt on or at the\ngrave-mound. Schol. B on ~T~ 212 is, however, mistaken in the rule\ndeduced from these cases: ~prouti/thesan, ei=ta e/thapton, ei=ta\netumbocho/oun, ei=ta ektere/\u00efzon~. All the cases refer to the\nceremonial at _empty_ graves. Where the body was obtainable the\nrelatives or friends would have burnt the ~kte/rea~ with the body.\nThis is done in the case of Eetion and Elpenor, and it must be\nunderstood in the close connexion of the words ~en puri\\ k\u00ea/aien\nkai\\ epi\\ kte/rea kteri/saien~, ~\u00d4~ 38, and again ~o/phr' he/taron\ntha/ptoi kai\\ epi\\ kte/rea kteri/seien~, ~g~ 285.]\n\n[30\\1:--a custom that originally belonged to all primitive peoples\nand remained in force for a very long time among many of them. _All_\nthe possessions of a dead Inca remain his own absolute property:\nPrescott, _Peru_^4, i, 31. Among the Abipones of Paraguay all the\npossessions of the dead are burnt: Klemm, _Culturges._ ii, 99. The\nAlbanians of the Caucasus buried all the dead man's possessions with\nhim, ~kai\\ dia\\ tou=to pe/n\u00eates z\u00f4=sin oude\\n patr\u00f4=|on e/chontes~,\nStr. 503. Of ancient origin are also the extravagant burial customs\nof the Mingrelians living in what was formerly Albania: Chardin,\n_Voy. en Perse_ (ed. **Langl\u00e8s), i, 325, 298, 314, 322.] {48}\n\n[31\\1: Examples given by O. Jahn, _Persius_, p. 219 fin.]\n\n[32\\1: ~psuch\u00ea\\ d' ek rhethe/\u00f4n ptame/n\u00ea A/\u00efdo/sde beb\u00ea/kei, ho\\n\npo/tmon goo/\u00f4sa lipou=s' androt\u00ea=ta kai\\ h\u00eab\u00ean~, ~P~ 756. ~Ch~ 362\ncf. ~U~ 294, ~N~ 415. ~psuch\u00ea\\ d' A\u00efdo/sde kat\u00ea=lthen~, ~k~ 560, ~l~\n65. Complete departure into the depths of the kingdom of Hades is\nmore clearly expressed in such words as ~bai/\u00ean do/mon A/\u00efdos\n_ei/s\u00f4_~, ~\u00d4~ 246, ~ki/on A/\u00efdos ei/s\u00f4~, ~Z~ 422, etc. Again, in ~l~\n150, the soul of Teiresias while speaking to Odysseus is still in\nHades in the wider sense but is more exactly on the extreme edge of\nthat region: we are told ~psuch\u00ea\\ me\\n e/b\u00ea do/mon A/\u00efdos\n_ei/s\u00f4_~--now at last it goes back again into the depths of the\nKingdom of Hades.]\n\n[33\\1: Aristonikos on ~Ps~ 104: ~h\u00ea dipl\u00ea= ho/ti ta\\s t\u00f4=n ata/ph\u00f4n\npsucha\\s Ho/m\u00earos e/ti s\u00f4zou/sas t\u00ea\\n phro/n\u00easin hupoti/thetai~.\n(Rather too systematically put by Porph. ap. Stob., _Ecl._ i, p.\n422, 20 ff., 425, 25 ff. W.) Elpenor is the first to approach\nOdysseus' sacrificial trench ~ou ga/r p\u00f4 ete/thapto~, ~l~ 52. His\n~psuch\u00ea/~ had not yet been received into Hades (_Rh. Mus._ 1, 615).\nAchilles' treatment of the body of Hektor shows that he thought of\nhis enemy (because he was still unburied) as being able to feel what\nwas done to him: lacerari eum et sentire credo putat, Cic., _TD._ i,\n105.]\n\n[34\\1: Plin. vii, 187, explains the change among the Romans from\nburial to cremation as being due to the fear that in times of war\nand disturbance the dead might be deprived of their rest. If a man\ndies in war time, i.e. during a period of temporary nomadism, his\nbody is burnt, but a limb (sometimes the head) is cut off to be\ntaken home and buried ad quod servatum iusta fierent, Paul. Festi,\n148, 11; Varro, _LL._ v, 23; Cic., _Lg._ ii, 55, 60. The same custom\nis found among certain German tribes: see Weinhold, _Sitzb. Wien.\nAc._ xxix, 156; xxx, 208. Even among the negroes of Guinea and the\nSouth American Indians practices resembling the _os resectum_ of the\nRomans are found in the case of those who die in war in foreign\ncountry; cf. Klemm, _Culturg._ iii, 297; ii, 98 f. In every case\nburial is regarded as the ancient and traditional mode of disposing\nof the dead, and the one strictly required on religious grounds.]\n\n[35\\1: Only once is there any mention of taking home the burnt\nbones, ~\u00ca~ 334 f. Aristarch. rightly recognized this as being in\nconflict with the normal conceptions and practice of Homer and\nregarded the lines as the composition of a later poet (Sch. A ad\nloc. and on ~D~ 174; Sch. EMQ., ~g~ 109). The lines may have been\ninserted to account for the absence from the Troad of such enormous\ngrave-mounds as the burial of the ashes of both armies should have\nproduced. The same reason--the desire expressed in these lines to\nbring back those who have died in a foreign country to their own\nland at last--is implied as the origin of cremation in the\nillustrative story of Herakles and Argeios, the son of Likymnios, in\nthe ~histori/a~ (derived from Andron) of Sch. A on ~A~ 52.]\n\n[36\\1: _Kl. Schr._ ii, 216, 220.]\n\n[37\\1: It would apply better to Roman beliefs; cf. Vg., _A._ iv,\n698-9--though even that means something else. (Cf. also Oldenberg,\n_Rel. d. Veda_, 585, 2.)]\n\n[38\\1: Cf. esp. ~Ps~ 75-6, ~l~ 218-22.]\n\n[39\\1: Serv. ad _A._ iii, 68: Aegyptii condita diutius servant\ncadavera scilicet ut anima multo tempore perduret et corpori sit\nobnoxia nec cito ad aliud transeat. Romani contra faciebant,\ncomburentes cadavera ut statim anima in generalitatem, i.e. in suam\nnaturam rediret (the pantheistic touch may be neglected).--Cf. the\naccount given by Ibn Foslan of the burial customs of the pagan\nRussians {49} (quoted from Fr\u00e4hn by J. Grimm, _Kl. Schr._ ii, 292):\nthe preference for burning was due to the idea that the soul was\nless quickly set free on its way to Paradise when the body was\nburied intact, than when it was destroyed by fire.]\n\n[40\\1: Cf. the Hymn of the Rigveda (x, 16) which is to be said at a\ncremation, esp. v. 2, 9 (quoted by Zimmer, _Altind. Leben_, 402 f.),\nand also _Rigv._ x, 14, 8 (Zimmer, p. 409). The Indians also wished\nto prevent the return of the dead to the world of the living. The\nfeet of the corpse were chained so that the dead could not return\n(Zimmer, p. 402).]\n\n[41\\1: It lies at the root of the stories of Demeter and Demophoon\n(or Triptolemos), and also that of Thetis and Achilles, when the\ngoddess, laying the mortal child in the fire, ~peri\u00ea/|rei ta\\s\nthn\u00eata\\s sa/rkas, e/phtheiren ho\\ \u00ea=n aut\u00f4=| thn\u00eato/n~, in order to\nmake it immortal (cf. Preller, _Dem. u. Perseph._, 112); cf. also\nthe custom observed at certain festivals (? of Hecate, cf. Bergk,\n_PLG._ iii, 682) of lighting fires in the streets and leaping\nthrough the flames carrying children, see Grimm (E.T.), p. 625; cf.\nalso Cic., _Div._ i, 47: o praeclarum discessum cum ut Herculi\ncontigit mortali corpore cremato in lucem animus excessit! Ov.,\n_M._, ix, 250: Luc., _Herm._, 7; Q.S. v, 640 ff. (For more about the\n\"purifying\" effects of fire, see below, chap. ix, n. 127.)]\n\n[42\\1: Nothing else than this is implied by the words of ~\u00ca~ 409-10,\n~ou ga\\r tis pheid\u00f4\\ neku/\u00f4n katatethn\u00ea\u00f4/t\u00f4n gi/gnet', epei/ ke\ntha/n\u00f4si puro\\s meilisse/men \u00f4=ka~. The souls of the dead must be\nquickly \"assuaged with fire\" (their longing gratified) and so their\nbodies are burnt. Purification from what is mortal and unclean,\nwhich Dieterich (_Nekyia_, 197, 3) thinks is referred to in this\npassage, is certainly not suggested as such by the words of the\npoet.]\n\n[43\\1: Light may be incidentally thrown on the question of the\ntransition from burial to cremation by such a story as that which an\nIcelandic Saga tells of a man who is buried by his own wish before\nthe door of his house; \"but as he returned and did much mischief his\nbody was exhumed and burnt and the ashes scattered over the sea\"\n(Weinhold, _Altnord. Leben_, 499). We often read in old stories how\nthe body of a dead man who goes about as a vampire is burnt. His\nsoul is then exorcized and cannot come back again.]\n\n[44\\1: It is natural to think of Asiatic influence. Cremation\nhearths have recently (1893) been discovered in Babylonia.]\n\n[45\\1: See Helbig, _D. Hom. Epos aus d. Denkm. erl._, 42 f.]\n\n[46\\1: That the men of the \"Mycenaean\" culture, though much affected\nby foreign influences, were Greeks--the Greeks of the Heroic age of\nwhom Homer speaks--may now be regarded as certain (see esp. E.\nReisch, _Verh. Wien. Philol._, 99 ff.).]\n\n[47\\1: See Schliemann, _Mycenae_, E.T., 155, 165, 213-14.]\n\n[48\\1: Helbig. _Hom. Epos_^2, p. 52.]\n\n[49\\1: Cf. K. Weinhold, _Sitzb. Wien. Ak._, 1858 (_Phil. hist.\nCl._), xxix, pp. 121, 125, 141. The remarkable coincidences between\nthe Mycenaean and these North European burial customs do not seem as\nyet to have been noticed. (The object of this elaborate foundation\nand covering may have been to preserve the corpse from decay longer,\nand especially from the effects of damp.)]\n\n[50\\1: Also in the domed grave of Dimini: _Ath. Mitth._, xii, 138.]\n\n[51\\1: The soul of a dead man from whom a favourite possession is\nwithheld returns (equally whether the body and the possessions with\nit are burnt or buried). The story in Lucian, _Philops._, xxvii, of\nthe wife of Eukrates (cf. Hdt. v, 92~\u00ea~), is quite in accordance\nwith popular belief.] {50}\n\n[52\\1: Schliemann, _Myc._, 212-13: see plan F. A similar altar in\nthe Hall of the Palace of Tiryus: Schuchhardt, _Schliemann's Exc._\n(E.T.), p. 107.]\n\n[53\\1: ~escha/ra~ is essentially ~eph' h\u00ea=s toi=s h\u00ea/r\u00f4sin\napothu/omen~, Poll. i, 8; cf. Neanthes ap. Ammon., _Diff. Voc._, p.\n34 V. Such an altar rested directly on the ground without anything\nintervening (~m\u00ea\\ e/chousa hu/psos all' epi\\ g\u00ea=s hidrume/n\u00ea~), it\nis round (~strogguloeid\u00ea/s~) and hollow (~koi/l\u00ea~): cf. esp. Harp.,\n87, 15 ff. Phot., s.v. ~escha/ra~ (2 glosses); _AB._ 256, 32; _EM._,\n384, 12 ff.; Sch. on ~z~ 52; Eust., _Od._, p. 1939 (~ps~ 71): Sch.\nEur., _Ph._, 284. It is evident that the ~escha/ra~ is not very far\nremoved from the sacrificial trench of the cult of the dead: thus it\nis actually called also ~bo/thros~; Sch. Eur., _Ph._, 274 (~skapt\u00ea/~\nS. Byz., 191, 7 Mein.).]\n\n[54\\1: Stengel has a different view (_Chthon. u. Todt._, 427, 2).]\n\nII\n\n[55\\1: It is doubtful whether Homer even knew of dream-oracles\n(which would be closely related to oracles of the dead**). That in\n~A~ 63 ~egkoi/m\u00easis~ is \"at least alluded to\" (as N\u00e4gelsbach,\n_Nachhom. Theol._, 172, thinks) is by no means certain. The\n~oneiropo/los~ would not be a priest who intentionally gave himself\nup to prophetic sleep and thus ~hupe\\r hete/r\u00f4n onei/rous hora=|~,\nbut rather an ~oneirokri/t\u00eas~--an interpreter of other men's\nunsought dream-visions.]\n\n[56\\1: Even the river-gods and Nymphs who are usually confined to\ntheir own homes are called to the ~agora/~ of all the gods in\nOlympos, ~U~ 4 ff. These deities who remain fixed in the locality of\ntheir worship are weaker than the Olympians just because they are\nnot elevated with the rest to the ideal summit of Olympos. Kalypso\nresignedly admits this, ~e~ 169 f., ~ei/ ke theoi/ g' ethe/l\u00f4si,\ntoi\\ ourano\\n euru\\n e/chousin, hoi/ meu phe/rteroi/ eisi no\u00ea=sai/\nte kr\u00ea=nai/ te~. They have sunk to the second rank of deities. They\nare, however, never thought of as free and independent, but as a\nmere addition to the kingdom of Zeus and the other Olympians.]\n\n[57\\1: Exx. in N\u00e4gelsbach, _Hom. Theol._^2, 387 f. (~phre/nes~), W.\nSchrader, _Jb. f. Philol._ 1885, p. 163 f. (~\u00ea=tor~).]\n\n[58\\1: The belief in the existence of more than one soul in the same\nperson is very wide-spread. See J. G. M\u00fcller, _Americ. Urrelig._, p.\n66, 207 f., Tylor, i, 432 f. The distinction between the five\nspiritual powers dwelling within man given by the Avesta rests upon\nsimilar grounds (Geiger, _Civ. of East. Iran_, 1, 124 ff.). Even in\nHomer Gomperz, _Greek Thinkers_, i, 249, finds a \"two-soul\" theory\nfully developed. According to him Homer recognizes in the\n~thumo/s~--a word supposed to be derived from the steam rising from\nfreshly shed and still warm blood--a second soul in addition to the\n~psuch\u00ea/~: a \"smoke-soul\" side by side with the \"breath-soul\". But\nif by soul a \"something\" is meant--as it must be in popular\npsychology--which is added independently to the body and its\nfaculties, something which lives separately in the body and after\nthe death of the body (with which it is not indissolubly united)\ndissociates itself and goes off independently--then the ~thumo/s~ of\nHomer cannot be called a \"soul\" or a double of the ~psuch\u00ea/~. Again\nand again the ~thumo/s~ is clearly referred to as a mental faculty\nof the living body; either thinking or willing or merely feeling\n(~thum\u00f4=| noe/\u00f4, thum\u00f4=| dei=sai, g\u00eath\u00ea/sei thum\u00f4=|, echol\u00f4/sato\nthum\u00f4=|, \u00ea/rare thumo\\n ed\u00f4d\u00ea=|~, etc.) is conducted by its means.\nIt is the seat of the emotions (~me/nos e/llabe thumo/n~) and\nbelongs to the body of the living man, and is especially enclosed in\nthe ~phre/nes~. In the face of {51} this it is impossible to regard\nit as something independent of the body or as anything else than a\nspecial faculty of the same living body. Once, indeed, ~\u00ca~ 131, the\n~thumo/s~ is spoken of, instead of ~psuch\u00ea/ as that which goes down\nto Haides, but this can only be an error or an oversight (see also\nbelow, ch. xi, n. 2). According to Homeric ideas--and this is a\nconception repeated over and over again in Greek literature and even\nin Greek philosophy--the body has all its vital powers in itself,\nnot merely ~thumo/s~ but ~me/nos, no/os, m\u00ea=tis, boul\u00ea/~. Yet it\nonly acquires life when supplemented by the ~psuch\u00ea/~, which is\nsomething different from all these bodily powers--something with an\nindependent being of its own and alone deserving the name \"soul\", a\nname which belongs as little to ~thumo/s~ as to ~no/os~. Gomperz\nthinks that ~thumo/s~, etc., were at first the only recognized\nfaculties of the body and that ~psuch\u00ea/~ was only (for the Greeks)\nadded later. This is certainly not to be made out from Homer--or any\nother part of Greek literature.]\n\n[59\\1: ~peri\\ psuch\u00ea=s the/on~, ~Ch~ 161; ~peri\\ psuche/\u00f4n\nema/chonto~, ~ch~ 245; ~psuch\u00ea\\n paraballo/menos~, ~I~ 322;\n~psucha\\s parthe/menoi~, ~g~ 74, ~i~ 255; ~psuch\u00ea=s anta/xion~, ~I~\n401; and cf. ~i~ 523: ~ai\\ ga\\r d\u00ea\\ psuch\u00ea=s te kai\\ ai\u00f4=no/s se\ndunai/m\u00ean eu=nin poi\u00ea/sas pe/mpsai do/mon A/\u00efdos ei/s\u00f4~. No one\nstrictly speaking can go into Hades bereft of his ~psuch\u00ea/~, for it\nis the ~psuch\u00ea/~ alone which goes there. Thus ~psuch\u00ea/~ here clearly\n= life, as is shown also by the addition of the words ~kai\\ ai\u00f4=nos~\nfor the sake of clearness. It is more doubtful whether this is the\nexplanation of ~psuch\u00ea=s o/lethros~, ~Ch~ 325, or of ~psucha\\s\nole/santes~, ~N~ 763, ~\u00d4~ 168. Other passages adduced by N\u00e4gelsb.,\n_Hom. Th._^2, 381, and Schrader, _Jb. f. Philol._ 1885, p. 167,\neither admit or require the material sense of the word ~psuch\u00ea/~:\ne.g. ~E~ 696 ff., ~Th~ 123, ~s~ 91, etc.]\n\nIII\n\n[60\\1: A more detailed statement and documentation of the following\nanalysis of the Nekyia in Od. ~l~ will be found in _Rh. Mus._ 1, 600\nff. (1895). [_Kl. Schr._ ii, 255.]]\n\n[61\\1: The information given by Teiresias, ~l~ 107 ff., about\nThrinakia and the cattle of Helios seems to be put in such a brief\nand inadequate form just because the fuller account given by Kirke,\n~m~ 127, was already known to the poet who did not wish to repeat\nthis word for word.]\n\n[62\\1: A final example of such pictures intended to suggest the\nbackground of the Odyssey is the conversation between Achilles and\nAgamemnon in the \"second Nekyia\", ~\u00f4~ 19 ff. The composer of these\nlines has understood quite correctly the meaning and purpose of his\nmodel, the original Nekyia of ~l~, though his continuation of it is\ncertainly very clumsy.]\n\n[63\\1: ~k~ 539-40 is borrowed from ~d~ 389-90, 470.--I find after\nwriting this that Kammer had already suggested imitation of ~d~ in\nthe Nekyia: _Einheit d. Od._, 494 f.]\n\n[64\\1: It is striking (and may have some special reason) that in\nKirke's account there is no mention of the Kimmerians. It is easier\nto see why the careful description of the country in Kirke's speech,\n~k~ 509-15, is not afterwards repeated but merely recalled to the\nmemory of the reader in a few words (~l~ 21-2).]\n\n[65\\1: I can see no essential difference between the conception and\nsituation of Hades as indicated in the Iliad and the account given\nin the Nekyia of the Odyssey. J. H. Voss and Nitzsch were right in\nthis matter. Nor do the additional details given in the \"second\nNekyia\" of ~\u00f4~ essentially \"conflict\" (as Teuffel, _Stud. u.\nCharact._, thinks) with the description of the first Nekyia. It does\nnot adhere {52} slavishly to its original, but it rests upon the\nsame fundamental conceptions.]\n\n[66\\1: Sch. H.Q., ~k~ 514, ~Puriphlege/th\u00f4n, \u00ea/toi to\\ pu=r to\\\naphani/zon to\\ sa/rkinon t\u00f4=n brot\u00f4=n~, cf. Apollodor., ~p. the\u00f4=n~,\nap. Stob., _Ecl._ i, p. 420, 9 W. ~Puriphlege/th\u00f4n ei/r\u00eatai apo\\ tou=\npuri\\ phle/gesthai tou\\s teleut\u00f4=ntas~.]\n\n[67\\1: Acheron, too, seems to be regarded as a river. The soul of\nthe unburied Patroklos, which has already departed, ~an' eurupule\\s\nA/\u00efdos d\u00f4=~, and has therefore passed over Okeanos, is prevented by\nthe other souls from passing over \"the river\", ~Ps~ 72 f. This can\nhardly be the Okeanos, and must, therefore, be Acheron (so, too,\nPorph. ap. Stob., _Ecl._ i, p. 422 f., 426 W.). ~k~ 515 does not in\nthe least prove that Acheron was thought of as a lake and not a\nriver, as Bergk, _Opusc._ ii, 695, thinks.]\n\n[68\\1: Cf. ~l~ 206 ff., 209-393 ff., 475.]\n\n[69\\1: See ~P~ 851 ff. (Patroklos), ~Ch~ 358 ff. (Hektor), ~l~ 69\nff. Behind each of these there lies the ancient belief that the soul\nin the moment of escape achieves a higher state of being and returns\nto a form of knowledge independent of sense-perception (cf. Artemon\nap. Sch., ~P~ 854, Arist. _fr._ 12 (10) R.). Otherwise this power\nbelongs to gods and, strictly, only to Zeus, who can foresee\neverything (in Homer). But the statements are intentionally modified\nto suggest an undefined middle position between prophecy in the full\nsense and mere ~stocha/zesthai~ (cf. Sch. B.V., ~Ch~ 359)--~Ch~ 359\nat the most may go beyond this point.]\n\n[70\\1: ~l~ 218-24.]\n\n[71\\1: ~o/\u00efn arneio\\n rhe/zein, th\u00ea=lu/n te me/lainan, eis E/rebos\nstre/psas~, ~k~ 527 f. From the word ~me/lainan~ the ~o/\u00efn\narneio\\n~ is also to be understood ~apo\\ koinou=~ as being, more\nprecisely, black (and so again in 572)--the ram offered to the gods\n(or Souls) of the underworld is regularly black. ~eis E/rebos\nstre/psas~, i.e. bending the head downwards (not towards the west) =\n~es bo/thron~, ~l~ 36--as Nitzsch rightly explains it. Everything\ncorresponds to the regular ~e/ntoma~ of later times for the\nunderworld beings (cf. Stengel, _Ztsch. f. Gymn._, 1880, p. 743\nf.).]\n\n[72\\1: ~koin\u00ea/ tis para\\ anthr\u00f4/pois esti\\n hupo/l\u00eapsis ho/ti\nnekroi\\ kai\\ dai/mones si/d\u00earon phobou=ntai~, Sch. Q., ~l~ 48. It is\nreally the _sound_ of the bronze or iron that drives away spirits:\nLuc., _Philops_. 15 (cf. O. Jahn, _Abergl. d. b\u00f6s. Blicks_, 70). But\neven the mere presence of iron objects is sufficient: [Aug.] _Hom.\nde sacrileg._ (about the seventh century), 22, states that to the\n_sacrilegi_ belong among others those who wear rings or armlets of\niron, aut qui in domo sua quaecumque de ferro, propter ut daemones\ntimeant, ponunt.]\n\n[73\\1: The idea that the Thesprotian ~nekuomantei=on~ by the river\nAcheron was the original of the Homeric picture was first started by\nPaus. 1, 17, 5. He was followed by K. O. M\u00fcller, _Introd. to a\nScientific System of Myth._, pp. 297-8 (_E. T._, Leitch), who has\nbeen followed by many others. But it has scarcely more justification\nthan has e.g. the localization of the Homeric entrance to Hades at\nCumae, Herakleia Pont. (cf. _Rh. Mus._ 36, 555 ff.), or other places\nof ancient worship of the dead (e.g. Pylos). At such places the\ntraditional names of Acheron, Kokytos, Pyriphlegethon were easily\nintroduced--but taken from Homer and not coming thence into Homer.\nThe fact that it is just this Thesprotian oracle of the dead that is\nmentioned in Hdt.'s well-known story (v, 92 ~\u00ea~) does not at all\nprove that this was the oldest of all such oracles.]\n\n[74\\1: To this extent Lobeck's denial of necromancy to the Homeric\npoems (_Agl._ 316) may, perhaps, require to be modified; but so\nmodified it may be accepted.] {53}\n\n[75\\1: In accordance with primeval sacrificial custom. To the dead\nonly female (or castrated) animals are offered (see Stengel,\n_Chthon. u. Todtenc._, 424). Here it is a ~stei=ra bou=s, a/gona\ntoi=s ago/nois~ (Sch.). So among the Indians, \"to the Manes that are\nwithout the powers of life and procreation\" a wether instead of a\nram was offered: Oldenberg, _Rel. d. Ved._, 358 [= 306 Fr. T.].]\n\n[76\\1: ~\u00d4~ 592 ff. Achilles says to the dead Patroklos ~m\u00ea/ moi\nPa/trokle skudmaine/men ai/ ke pu/th\u00eaai ein A/\u00efdo/s per e\u00f4\\n ho/ti\nHe/ktora di=on e/lusa patri\\ phi/l\u00f4|, e/pei ou/ moi aeike/a d\u00f4=ken\na/poina. soi\\ d' au= eg\u00f4\\ kai\\ t\u00f4=nd' apoda/ssomai ho/ss'\nepe/oiken~. The possibility that the dead in Hades may be able to\nknow what is happening in the upper world is referred to only\nhypothetically (~ai/ ke~)--not so, however, the intention of giving\nthe dead man a share in the gifts of Priam (~di' epitaphi/\u00f4n eis\nauto\\n ag\u00f4/n\u00f4n~ as Sch. B.V. on 594 thinks). The strangeness of such\na promise seems to have been one of the reasons that made Aristarch.\n(unjustly) athetize ll. 594-5.]\n\n[77\\1: 40-1. This is not un-Homeric, cf. esp. ~X~ 456. Thus on many\nvase-paintings we see the psyche of a fallen warrior flying over the\ncorpse, often clad in full armour, but very diminutive in size--to\nexpress invisibility.]\n\n[78\\1: Strictly speaking Odysseus is supposed to enter into\nconversation with the women while each informs him of her fate\n(231-4); every now and then comes a ~pha/to~ 236, ~ph\u00ea=~ 237,\n~eu/cheto~ 261, ~pha/ske~ 306. But the whole section is little more\nthan a review at which Odysseus assists without taking any real\npart.]\n\n[79\\1: Cf. _Rh. Mus._ 1, 625 ff. The nearest parallel to such a\ndistinction between an ~ei/d\u00f4lon~ and the fully animated ~auto/s~ is\nto be found in what Stesichoros (and Hesiod before him: see Paraphr.\nant. Lyc., 822, p. 71, Scheer, and _PLG._ iii, p. 215) relates of\nHelen and her ~ei/d\u00f4lon~. Prob. this latter story gave rise to the\ninsertion of these lines, ~l~ 602 ff.]\n\n[80\\1: Cf. 623 ff.]\n\n[81\\1: Welcker, _Gr. G\u00f6tterl._ i, 818, and others following him.]\n\n[82\\1: [Apollod.] 1, 9, 3, 2; Sch., ~A~ 180 (p. 18b, 23 ff., Bekk.)\ngives as reason for the punishment of Sisyphos that he betrayed to\nAsopos the rape of his daughter Aigina by Zeus. This, however, does\nnot rest upon good epic tradition. Another story follows up the\nbetrayal with the myth of the outwitting of Death and then Hades by\nS., after which he is sent down to Hades again and punished by the\ntask of the endless stone-rolling. The story of the double\noutwitting of the powers of death (cf. the similar fairy tale of\n_Spielhansel_: Grimm, _Fairy Tales_, n. 82, and _Anm._, vol. ii, p.\n163, ed. 1915) is obviously intended humorously, and so it seems to\nhave been treated in a satyr-drama of Aesch., the ~Si/suphos\ndrape/t\u00eas~ [Sch., ~Z~ 153.] The fact that this story ends in the\npunishment of the stone-rolling ought to be sufficient warning\nagainst taking it in the serious and edifying sense in which Welcker\nand his followers interpret it. It is quite contrary to ancient\nideas to suppose that Sis. is punished for his cunning as a warning\nto other crafty (as well as good) men. In ~Z~ 153 he is called\n~ke/rdistos andr\u00f4=n~ as praise and not blame: so Aristarch. rightly\nmaintained and supported his case by clear ~anaphora/~ to the line\nof the Nekyia (see Sch., ~Z~ 153, ~K~ 44, Lehrs, _Aristarch._^3, p.\n117 and ~l~ 593). The idea that the adj. refers to the ~kako/tropon~\nof S. is merely a misunderstanding of Porph. ap. Sch., ~l~ 385. How\nlittle anyone thought of S. as a criminal, even with the Homeric\nstory in his mind, is shown by the Platonic Sokrates who _rejoices_\n(_Apol._, 41 C) over the fact that in Hades he will meet, amongst\nothers, Sisyphos (cf. also {54} Thgn., 702 ff.). The case of Sis.\npresents the most serious difficulties that face any attempt to give\na moralizing sense (quite outside the poet's intention) to the\nsection of the \"three penitents\". (See also _Rh. Mus._ 1, 630.)]\n\n[83\\1: ~G~ 279, ~T~ 260 (cf. _Rh. Mus._ 1, 8). Nitzsch, _Anm. z.\nOd._ iii, p. 184 f., vainly employs all the arts of interpretation\nand criticism to deny their obvious meaning to both passages.]\n\n[84\\1: K. O. M\u00fcller, _Aeschylus Eumenides_, p. 167 = E.T., 1853, p.\n159.]\n\n[85\\1: It should be remembered also that no legal penalties against\nperjury existed in Greece, any more than in Rome. They were\nunnecessary in face of the general expectation that the deity whom\nthe perjurer had invoked against himself would take immediate\nrevenge upon the criminal. (Esp. instructive are the words of\nAgamemnon on the Trojan breach of faith, ~D~ 158 ff.) Such revenge\nwould be taken either during the life time of the perjurer--in which\ncase the instruments of vengeance would be the spirits of Hell, the\nErinyes: Hes., _Op._, 802 ff.--or else after death.]\n\n[86\\1: The oath as a bond in favour of the oath-gods: Thgn., 1195\nf., ~m\u00ea/ti theou\\s epi/orkon epo/mnuthi, ou ga\\r anusto\\n\nathana/tous kru/psai _chrei=os_ opheilo/menon~. Perjury would be\n~eis theou\\s hamarta/nein~, Soph. _fr._ 431 (472 P.).]\n\n[87\\1: Eust., _Od._, p. 1614-15, has understood this. He calls\nattention to Pi., _P_. 4, 159, ~ke/letai ga\\r hea\\n psucha\\n\nkomi/zai Phri/xos eltho/ntas pro\\s Ai\u00ea/ta thala/mous~--on which\npassage the Sch. refers us back again to Homer. Both passages imply\nthe same belief: ~t\u00f4=n apolome/n\u00f4n en xe/n\u00ea| g\u00ea=| ta\\s psucha\\s\neuchai=s tisin epekalou=nto apopleo/ntes hoi phi/loi eis t\u00ea\\n\nekei/n\u00f4n patri/da kai\\ edo/koun _kata/gein_ autou\\s pro\\s tou\\s\noikei/ous~ (Sch. ~i~ 65 f., Sch. ~\u00ca~, ~i~ 62). Nitzsch, _Anm._ iii,\n17-18, vainly attempts to get out of the necessity of seeing in this\nact the fulfilment of a religious duty. He supposes that Odysseus is\nmerely satisfying a \"need of the heart\", etc. The real meaning of\nreligious performance is too often obscured by such \"ethical\"\ninterpretation.]\n\n[88\\1: The command of Athene to Telem., ~a~ 291, presupposes as\nuniversally customary the erection of a cenotaph for those who die\nin foreign lands unless their bodies can be obtained by their\nfriends. Menelaos erects an empty tomb to Agamemnon in Egypt, ~d~\n584.]\n\n[89\\1: ~d~ 584, ~cheu=' Agame/mnoni tu/mbon hi=n' a/sbeston kle/os\nei/\u00ea~. ~l~ 75 f., ~s\u00ea=ma/ te/ moi cheu=ai poli\u00ea=s epi\\ thini\\\nthala/ss\u00eas, andro\\s dust\u00ea/noio, kai\\ essome/noisi pu/thesthai~.\nAchilles in the second Nekyia, ~\u00f4~ 30 ff., says to Agam.: Would thou\nhadst died before Troy, for then the Achaeans would have set up a\ntomb for thee and ~kai\\ s\u00f4=| paidi\\ me/ga kle/os \u00ea/ra' opi/ss\u00f4~ (cf.\n93 f., where Agam. says to Achilles ~h\u00f4s su\\ me\\n oude\\ than\u00f4\\n\no/nom' \u00f4/lesas alla/ toi aiei\\ pa/ntas ep' anthr\u00f4/pous kle/os\ne/ssetai esthlo\\n Achilleu=~). The words of Hektor, ~\u00ca~ 84 ff., show\nhow the ~s\u00ea=ma epi\\ platei= Hell\u00easpo/nt\u00f4|~ served to remind sailors\nas they passed, ~andro\\s me\\n to/de s\u00ea=ma pa/lai katatethn\u00ea\u00f4=tos\nktl.~ and to suggest that this was the proper and principal purpose\nof such erections.--In contrast with this cf. what is stated of the\ninhabitants of the Philippine Islands: \"they laid their illustrious\ndead in a chest and set them up on a high place or on a rock by the\nbank of a river in order that they might be _worshipped_ by the\npious\": Lippert, _Seelencult_, p. 22.]\n\n\n{{55}}\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nISLANDS OF THE BLEST\n\n_TRANSLATION_\n\nThe Homeric picture of the shadow-life of the disembodied soul is\nthe work of resignation, not of hope. Hope would never have beguiled\nitself with the anticipation of a state of things which neither\nafforded men the chance of further activity after death, nor, on the\nother hand, gave them rest from the toil of life; one which promised\nthem only a restless, purposeless fluttering to and fro, an\nexistence, indeed, but without any of the content that might have\nmade it worthy of the name of life.\n\nWas there never any aspiration after a more consolatory picture of\nthe life after death? Did the tremendous vital energies of that time\nreally devote themselves so completely to the realms of Zeus that\nnot even a ray of hope penetrated to the House of Hades? We should\nhave had to suppose so were it not for a single passing glimpse\nwhich we get of a distant land of hearts' desire, such as even the\nGreece that lay under the sway of the Homeric order of things still\nimagined for itself.\n\nWhen Proteus, the sea-god who could foretell the future, has\nfinished informing Menelaos, on the sea-shore of Egypt, of the\ncircumstances of his return home to his country and of the fate of\nhis dearest companions, he adds the prophetic words--so Menelaos\nhimself informs Telemachos in the fourth book of the Odyssey (560\nff.): \"But thou, god-like Menelaos, art not ordained to die in\nhorse-pasturing Argos or to meet thy fate there; for the immortals\nshall send thee far away to the Elysian plain, to the ends of the\nworld where dwells fair-haired Rhadamanthys, and where life is most\neasy for men. There is neither snow nor heavy storms nor rain, but\nOkeanos ever sends zephyrs with soft-breathing breezes to refresh\nmen--because thou hast Helen to wife and art thereby in their eyes\nthe son-in-law of Zeus.\"\n\nThese verses allow us a glimpse into a world about which the Homeric\npoems are otherwise silent. At the end of the {56} world, by the\nRiver Okeanos, lies the \"Elysian Plain\", a land where the sky is\nalways clear, as in the land where the gods live.[1\\2] There dwells\nthe great Rhadamanthys, not alone, one may suppose as \"men\" are\nspoken of (565, 568). Thither shall the gods some day send\nMenelaos--he is not to die (562); that is to say, he is to reach\nthat place alive nor shall he suffer death there. The place to which\nhe is to be sent is not a part of the realm of Hades, but a land on\nthe surface of the earth set apart as the abode not of disembodied\n\"souls\", but of men whose souls have not been separated from their\nvisible selves--for only thus can they feel and enjoy the sense of\n_life_ (565). The picture which fancy has drawn here is the precise\nopposite of the blessed immortality of the soul in its separate\nexistence. Just because such an idea remained quite unthinkable for\nHomeric singers, hope sought and found an exit from the shadow-world\nwhich swallows up all living energy. Hope imagined a land at the end\nof the world, but still of this world, to which occasionally some\nfew favourites of the gods might be \"translated\" without the psyche\nbeing separated from its body and descending to Hades.\n\nThe actual mention of such miraculous \"translation\" stands alone in\nthe Homeric poems, and the passage in the Odyssey seems to have been\nintroduced by a later hand.[2\\2] But the conditions of such a\nmiracle are all implied within the range of Homeric ideas. Menelaos\nis carried off by the power of the gods and lives an eternal life\nfar from the world of mortals. The belief that a god could suddenly\nwithdraw his earthly favourite from the eyes of men and invisibly\nwaft him away on the breeze not infrequently finds its application\nin the battle-scenes of the Iliad.[3\\2] The gods could also make a\nmortal \"invisible\" for a prolonged period. When Odysseus has been so\nlong lost to his friends they suspect that the gods have \"made him\ninvisible\" (_Od._ i, 235 ff.); they do not regard him as \"dead\" but\n\"the Harpies have carried him away\", and he is consequently\nwithdrawn from all human ken (_Od._ i, 241 f.; xiv, 371). Penelope,\nin her grief, prays _either_ for swift death through the arrows of\nArtemis, _or_ that a storm wind may lift her up and carry her away\non dark pathways to the mouths of Okeanos, that is, to the entrance\nof the Land of the Dead (_Od._ xx, 61-5; 79 ff.).[4\\2] To explain\nher wish she recalls a fairy tale of the kind that must often have\nbeen told in the women's quarters; how the daughters of Pandareos,\nafter the violent death of their parents, were brought up to lovely\nmaidenhood by Aphrodite and provided by Hera, Artemis, and Athene\nwith all kinds of gifts and {57} accomplishments; till one day when\nAphrodite had gone to Olympos to ask Zeus to make a match for them,\nthe Harpies came and carried them off and made them the hand-maidens\nof the hated Erinyes.[5\\2] This folk-tale reveals more clearly than\nis usual with the generally cultured Homeric narrative the popular\nbelief that men might be carried off permanently from the land of\nthe living, and, without seeing death, live on in another\ndwelling-place. For the daughters of Pandareos are carried away\nalive--to the Kingdom of the Dead, it is true, for that is where\nthey must go if they become the servants of the Erinyes, the spirits\nof the underworld.[6\\2] That is where Penelope wishes to be carried\noff, and without dying first--away from the land of the living which\nhas become intolerable for her. Such a translation is accomplished\nby means of the Harpies or the Stormwind, which is the same thing,\nsince the Harpies are nothing else but wind-deities of a peculiarly\nsinister kind. They may be compared to the Devil's Bride or the\n\"Whirlwind's Bride\" of German folk-tales, who rides in the whirlwind\nand also carries off men with her.[7\\2] The Harpies and what we are\nhere told of them, belong to the \"vulgar mythology\" which so seldom\nfinds any expression in Homer; a popular folk-lore that could tell\nof many things between heaven and earth of which the Homeric \"grand\nstyle\" takes little notice. In Homer the Harpies never act on their\nown authority; only as the servants of the gods or of a single god\ndo they transport mortals where no word of man, no human power, can\nreach.[8\\2]\n\nThe prophesied removal of Menelaos to the Elysian fields at the end\nof the world is only another example of such a \"translation\" by the\nwill and the might of the gods. Even the fact that prolonged\nhabitation in that happy land, inaccessible to other men, is\npromised to him, does not differentiate the fate of Menelaos from\nthat of the daughters of Pandareos, or from that which Penelope\nwishes for herself. For Menelaos, however, immortal life is promised\nnot in Hades, or even at its entrance, but in a special country of\nthe blest, as though in a new kingdom of the gods. He is to become a\n\"god\"; for since to the Homeric poets \"god\" and \"immortal\" are\ninterchangeable terms, a man who is granted immortality (that is,\nwhose psyche is never separated from his visible self) becomes for\nthem a god.\n\nIt is also a Homeric belief that gods can raise mortals to their own\nrealm, to immortality. Kalypso wishes to make Odysseus \"immortal and\nageless for all time\", that he may remain for ever by her side\n(_Od._ v, 135 f.; 209 f.; xxiii, 335 f.), {58} that is to say, make\nhim a god like herself. The immortality of the gods is conditioned\nby the eating of the magic food ambrosia and nectar;[9\\2] man, too,\nby eating continually the food of the gods, becomes an immortal god.\nWhat Odysseus in his longing for the earthly home, to which he is\ndrawn by loyalty and duty, rejects, has been attained by other\nmortals. The Homeric poems can tell of more than one mortal promoted\nto immortal life.\n\nAs he is struggling in the stormy sea rescue comes to Odysseus in\nthe person of Ino Leukothea, once the daughter of Kadmos, \"who had\nformerly been a mortal woman, but now in the waves of the sea shares\nin the honour of the gods\" (_Od._ v, 333 ff.).[10\\2] Did some god of\nthe sea bear her away and imprison her for ever in his own element?\nThe belief existed that a god might descend from heaven even upon an\nearthly maiden and carry her off for ever as his spouse (_Od._ vi,\n280 f.).[11\\2]\n\nGanymede, the most beautiful of mortals, had been carried away by\nthe gods to Olympos to dwell among immortals, as the cup-bearer of\nZeus (_Il._ xx, 232 ff.).[12\\2] He was a scion of the old Trojan\nroyal house, to which Tithonos also belonged, whom both the Iliad\nand the Odyssey already know as the husband of Eos; from his side\nthe goddess arose every morning to bring the light of day to gods\nand men.[13\\2] It appears that she had \"translated\" her beloved not\nto Olympos but to the distant dwelling-place by the River Okeanos\nfrom which she sets out in the morning.[14\\2] It was Eos who had\nonce borne off the beautiful Orion, and in spite of the jealousy of\nthe other gods had enjoyed his love until Artemis \"on Ortygia\" had\nslain him with her gentle arrow (_Od._ v, 122 ff.). The story may be\nderived from ancient star-myths, which represented in the language\nof myth what is actually to be observed in the morning sky. But in\nsuch myths the elements and celestial phenomena are thought of as\nliving and animate like men. And in the same way, these\nstar-spirits, in accordance with the regular development of legend,\nhave long ago sunk, for the Homeric poet, to the level of earthly\nyouths and heroes. If the goddess can raise Orion into her own\nkingdom, then, according to the belief of the time (which is all\nthat matters to us here), the same thing might happen to any mortal\nthrough the favour of the gods. A simple imitation of the same\nlegend in a purely human setting is the story of Kleitos, a youth of\nthe family of the seer Melampous, whom Eos has carried off for the\nsake of his beauty that he may dwell among the gods (_Od._ xv, 249\nf.). {59}\n\n\u00a7 2\n\nThe translation, then, of Menelaos, while still alive, to the ends\nof the earth to live there in perpetual blessedness is indeed a\nmiracle, but a miracle that finds its justification and precedent in\nthe range of Homeric belief. The only thing new about it is that\nMenelaos has a special dwelling-place assigned to him, not in the\nland of the gods, the proper realm of immortality, nor as in the\ncase of Tithonos and as Kalypso desired for Odysseus, in the company\nof a deity, but in a separate place specially allotted to the\ntranslated hero, the Elysian fields. Nor does this appear to be the\ninvention of the writer of these lines. He refers so briefly to the\n\"Land of the Departed\"[15\\2] and its delights that we are forced to\nbelieve that he did not himself originate so enticing a\nvision.[16\\2] He can only, in the case of Menelaos, have added a\nfresh companion to the company of the blessed. That Rhadamanthys the\nJust dwells there seems to be known to him from ancient tradition,\nfor he evidently only intends to recall the fact and does not think\nit necessary to justify this selection of the brother of\nMinos.[17\\2] It might even be supposed that the picture of such a\nwonderland had been invented and embellished by older poets simply\nfor the benefit of Rhadamanthys. The only novelty is that this\npicture, which has been fully adopted into the circle of Homeric\npoetry, now includes a hero of the Trojan epic cycle among the\nnumber of those translated to that land of ever unclouded happiness.\nThe lines were inserted, as has already been remarked, at a later\ndate, into the prophecy of Proteus, and it is hard not to suppose\nthat the whole idea lay far from the thoughts of previous Homeric\nsingers. Would the flower of the heroic chivalry, including Achilles\nhimself, have been doomed to that dim shadow-world in which we see\nthem wandering in the Nekyia of the Odyssey, if a way out into a\nlife exempt from death had already revealed itself to imagination at\nthe time when the Epic gave the stamp of its approval to the stories\nwhich dealt with the fate of the greater number of the heroes?\nBecause the poem of the Trojan War and the adventures of the Return\nfrom Troy had not yet decided upon the fate of Menelaos, a later\npoet could speak of his \"translation\" to the--since\n\"discovered\"--Land of Destiny. It is highly probable that even at\nthe time of the composition of the Journey to Hades of Odysseus this\nconception--afterwards so important for the development of the Greek\nbelief in immortality--of a secluded resting-place of living and\ntranslated heroes had not yet been completely {60} formulated. It\nfits easily into the framework of belief prevailing in the Homeric\npoems, but it is not necessarily required by that framework. It is\nnatural on this account to suppose that it entered the Epic from\nwithout. And, remembering the Babylonian story of Hasisatra and the\nHebrew one of Enoch,[18\\2] both of whom without suffering death were\ntranslated into the realm of immortal life--either to \"Heaven\" or to\nthe \"End of the Rivers\" to the gods--we might be inclined to follow\nthe fashion that prevails in some quarters nowadays, and believe\nthat these earliest Greek translation legends were borrowed from\nSemitic tradition. Little, however, would be gained by such a\nmechanical derivation. Here and in all such cases the main question\nremains still unanswered: what were the reasons which led the Greek\nmind to wish to borrow this particular idea at this particular time\nfrom abroad? In the present instance at least, nothing argues\nspecially for the handing on of the belief in translation from one\nnation to another rather than for its independent origin in the\ndifferent countries out of similar needs.\n\nThis new idea did not contradict the normal Homeric beliefs about\nthe soul but on the contrary presupposed them and supplemented them\nwithout incongruity. It was also, as we have seen, based upon\nconceptions that were familiar and natural to Greek thought. There\nwas, indeed, no need for any stimulus from without to produce from\nthese materials the undoubtedly new and peculiarly attractive idea\nof which we receive the earliest intimation in the prophecy of\nProteus.\n\n\u00a7 3\n\nThe importance of this new creation for the later development of\nGreek belief makes it all the more necessary to be quite clear as to\nwhat exactly this novelty really was. Was it a Paradise for the\npious and the just? A sort of Greek Valhalla for the bravest\nheroes?--or was it that a reconciliation and adjustment between\nvirtue and happiness such as this life never knows had revealed\nitself to the eyes of hope in a Land of Promise? Nothing of the kind\nis warranted by these lines. Menelaos was never particularly\nremarkable for those virtues which the Homeric age rated\nhighest.[19\\2] He is only to be transported to Elysium because he\nhas Helen to wife and is therefore the son-in-law of Zeus; such is\nProteus' prophecy to him. We are not told why Rhadamanthys has\nreached the place of happiness; nor do we learn it through the title\nby which he was referred to almost invariably by {61} later poets,\nthe \"Just\". We may, however, remind ourselves that as brother of\nMinos he was also a son of Zeus.[20\\2] It was not virtue or merit\nthat gave him a claim to blessedness after this life; indeed, of any\nsuch claim we never find the least trace. Just as the retention of\nthe psyche in the body and the consequent avoidance of death can\noccur only as a miracle or by magic--that is, as an exceptional\ncase--so does translation into the \"Land of Destiny\" remain a\nprivilege of a few special favourites of the gods. No one could\ndeduce from such cases any article of faith of universal\napplication. The nearest parallel to this miraculous preservation of\nlife for a few individuals in a land of blessed repose is to be\nfound in the equally miraculous preservation of consciousness in\nthose three enemies of the gods in Hades whom we hear of in the\nNekyia of the Odyssey. The Penitents in Erebos and the blessed in\nElysium correspond: both represent exceptions which do not destroy\nthe rule and do not affect the main outline of Homeric belief. In\nthe first case, as in the second, the omnipotence of Heaven has\nbroken through the rule. Those, however, who owe to the special\nfavour of the gods their escape from death and their translation to\nElysium are near relatives of the gods. This seems to be the only\nreason for the favour shown to them.[21\\2] If therefore any more\ngeneral reason beyond the capricious good-will of some god is to\naccount for the translation of these individuals it might perhaps be\nfound in the belief that near relationship with the gods, that is,\nthe very highest nobility of lineage, could preserve a man from the\ndescent into the common realm of hopeless nothingness after the\nseparation of the psyche from the body. In the same way the beliefs\nof many primitive peoples represent the ordinary man as departing to\na joyless country of the dead (if he is not annihilated altogether)\nwhile the descendants of gods and kings, or the aristocracy, go to a\nland of unending happiness.[22\\2] Such a fancy, however, is only\ndimly apparent in the promise made to Menelaos; nowhere is anything\nsaid of a general rule from which the individual case might be\ndeduced.--\n\n\u00a7 4\n\nBut the individuals who are admitted to an everlasting life in the\nElysian land at the end of the world are much too distantly removed\nfrom the habitations of the living for them to be credited with the\npower of influencing the world of men.[23\\2] They resemble the gods\nonly in the enjoyment accorded to them of an unendingly conscious\nlife. Of the omnipotence of {62} the gods they have not the smallest\nshare[24\\2] any more than the dwellers in Erebos, from whose fate\ntheir own is otherwise so different. We must not suppose, therefore,\nthat the origin of the stories of the promotion of individual heroes\nabove their companions and their translation into a distant\ndwelling-place, is to be sought in any _cultus_ offered to those\nindividuals in their previous earthly dwelling-place. Every\nreligious cult is the worship of something real and powerful; no\npopular religion and no poet's fancy would have given the national\nheroes, if they were to be regarded as powerful and worshipped\naccordingly, such a distant and inaccessible home.\n\nIt was the free activity of the poetic fancy which created and\nembellished this last refuge of human aspiration upon the Elysian\nplain. The needs which this new creation was chiefly intended to\nsatisfy were poetical and not religious.\n\nThe atmosphere of the younger of the two Homeric epics already\ndiffers widely from that of its older companion, the Iliad, with its\nheroic delight in the untiring manifestation of vital energy. It is\nlikely that the feelings of the **conquerors of a new home upon the\nAsiatic coast may have differed considerably from those of the same\npeople confirmed in undisturbed possession and enjoyment of their\nconquests. It seems as if the Odyssey reflected the temper and\naspiration of these Ionian city-dwellers of a later time. A spirit\nof contentment and leisure seems to flow like an undercurrent\nthrough the whole poem, and has made for itself a haven of rest in\nthe midst of the busy action of the story. When the poet's own\nfeelings find their true expression they show us idyllic scenes of\nquiet enjoyment of daily life; magnificent in the country of the\nPh\u00e6acians, gay and more homely at the farm of Eumaios; pictures of\nquiet repose after the fights of the heroic past, that have now\nfaded into a mere pleasant memory, such as we get in the house of\nNestor, or in the Palace of Menelaos and the regained Helen. Or,\nagain, we have a description of nature in a mood of liberality and\ngentleness, as upon the island of Syri\u00ea, the home of Eumaios'\nchildhood, upon which in ample possession of cattle, wine and corn,\na people live free from necessity and pain, till they arrive at a\ngood old age when Apollo and Artemis with their gentlest shafts\nbring swift death to them (_Od._ xv, 403 ff.). If you ask the poet\nwhere this fortunate island lies he will tell you that it lies over\nthere beyond Ortygi\u00ea where the sun turns back. But where is\nOrtygi\u00ea,[25\\2] and who can point out the place where the sun begins\nhis return journey far in the West? The country of idyllic happiness\nlies indeed almost beyond {63} the limit of this world. Phoenician\nmerchant-men who go everywhere may perhaps reach that land as well\n(415 ff.), and Ionian seamen in this earliest period of Greek\ncolonization into which the composition of the Odyssey reaches may\nwell have hoped to find far out over the sea such propitious\nhabitations of a new life.\n\nIn the same way the country and the life of the Ph\u00e6acians seem like\nan ideal picture of an Ionian state newly founded in a distant land\nfar from the turmoil, the restless competition, and all the\nlimitations of their familiar Greek homes. But this unclouded\ndream-picture, bathed in purest light, lies far away in a distant\nland all but inaccessible to man. Only by chance is a strange ship\ncast away on to that coast, and at once the magic ships of the\nPh\u00e6acians carry back the stranger through night and cloud to his own\nhome again. True, there is no reason to see in the Ph\u00e6acians a sort\nof ferry-people of the dead, neighbours of the Elysian fields.\nStill, the poetic fancy which invented the country of the Ph\u00e6acians\nis not unrelated to that which gave rise to the idea of an Elysian\nplain beyond the bounds of the inhabited world. Given the idea that\na life of untroubled bliss can only be had in the remotest confines\nof the earth, jealously guarded from all intrusion, only one more\nstep remains to be taken before men come to believe that such bliss\nis really only to be found where neither accident nor purpose can\never bring men, more remote even than the Ph\u00e6acians, than the\ncountry of the \u00c6thiopians, the beloved of the gods, or than the\nAbioi of the North, already known to the Iliad. It must lie beyond\nthe bounds of real life. Such idyllic longings have given rise to\nthe picture of Elysium. The happiness of those who there enjoy\neverlasting life seemed to be fully safeguarded only if their place\nof abode were removed for ever beyond the range of all exploration,\nout of reach of all future discovery. This happiness is imagined as\na condition of perfect bliss under the most benignant sky; easy and\nuntroubled says the poet, is the life of men there, in this\nresembling the life of the gods, but at the same time without\naspiration and without activity. It is doubtful whether the poet of\nthe Iliad would have considered such a future worthy of his heroes,\nor given the name of happiness to such felicity as this.\n\n\u00a7 5\n\nWe were obliged to assume that the poet who inserted these\ninimitably smooth, melodious verses in the Odyssey was not the first\ninventor or discoverer of the Elysian paradise beyond {64} the realm\nof mortality. But though he followed in the footsteps of others,\nwhen he introduced into the Homeric poem a reference to this new\nbelief, he was giving this idea for the first time an enduring place\nin Greek imagination. Other poems might disappear, but anything that\nappeared in the Iliad or the Odyssey was assured of perpetual\nremembrance.\n\nThe imagination of Greek poets or Greek people never gave up the\nalluring fancy of a distant land of blessedness into which\nindividual mortals might by the favour of the gods be translated.\nEven the scanty notices which have come down to us of the contents\nof the heroic poems that led up to, continued, or connected the two\nHomeric Epics and linked them up with the whole cycle of Theban and\nTrojan legend enable us to see how this post-Homeric poetry took\npleasure in the recital of still further examples of translation.\n\nThe Kypria first described how the army of the Ach\u00e6ans for the\nsecond time encamped in Aulis, was detained by adverse winds sent by\nArtemis; and how Agamemnon on the advice of Kalchas would have\nsacrificed his own daughter Iphigeneia to the goddess. Artemis,\nhowever, snatched away the maiden and transported her to the land of\nthe Taurians, and there made her immortal.[26\\2]\n\nThe Aithiopis, a continuation of the Iliad, tells of the help\nbrought to the Trojans by Penthesileia and her Amazons, and after\nher death by Memnon the \u00c6thiopian prince, an imaginary\nrepresentative of the eastern monarchies of inner Asia. Antilochos,\nthe new favourite of Achilles, falls in the war, but Achilles slays\nMemnon himself. Thereupon Eos the mother of Memnon (and known as\nsuch already to the Odyssey) obtains the permission of Zeus to give\nimmortality to her son.[27\\2] It may be supposed that the poet\ndescribed what we see so often represented upon Greek vases: the\nmother bearing through the air the dead body of her son. According\nto the story told in the Iliad, Apollo, with the help of Sleep and\nDeath, the twin brothers, bore off the body of Sarpedon, the son of\nZeus, to his Lycian home after he had been slain by Achilles, merely\nin order that he might be buried in his own country. But the poet of\nthe Aithiopis has tried to outdo the story in the Iliad in\nimpressiveness (for it was evidently his model),[28\\2] and has made\nEos, with the permission of Zeus, not merely carry off the dead to\nhis far-off home in the East, but there awaken him to immortal life.\n\nSoon after the death of Memnon fate overtakes Achilles himself. When\nhis body, rescued by his friends after much hard fighting, is laid\nupon its bier, Thetis, his mother, with {65} the Muses and the other\nsea-goddesses come and sing the funeral dirge. Of this we are told\nin the last book of the Odyssey (xxiv, 47 ff.) which relates further\nhow his body was burnt, his bones gathered together and entombed\nunder a mound, and the psyche of Achilles departed to the House of\nHades; the whole story being told to him in the underworld by the\npsyche of Agamemnon. But the author of the Aithiopis--always\nremarkable for his bold innovations in the traditional\nmaterial--here ventures upon an important new touch. From the\nfuneral pyre, he tells us, Thetis carried off the body of her son\nand brought him to Leuke.[29\\2] That she restored him to life again\nthere and made him immortal the one meagre extract which accident\nhas preserved to us does not say. But there can be no question that\nthat is what the poet narrated--all later accounts conclude the\nstory in this way.\n\nThe parallel is clear: the two opponents, Achilles and Memnon, are\nboth set free from the fate of mortals by their goddess-mothers. In\nbodies once more restored to life they continue to live, not among\nmen, nor yet among the gods, but in a distant wonderland--Memnon in\nthe east, Achilles in the \"White Island\". The poet himself can\nhardly have imagined Achilles' Island to have been in the Euxine\nSea, where, however, later Greek sailors located this purely\nmythical spot.\n\nThe translation of Menelaos is still more closely paralleled by the\nstory told in the Telegoneia, which was the final and the\nlatest-written of the Cyclic poems, of the fate which attended the\nfamily of Odysseus. Telegonos, the son of Odysseus and Kirke, slays\nhis father unwittingly; when he discovers his mistake he brings the\nbody of Odysseus with Penelope and **Telemachos to his mother, Kirke,\nwho makes them immortal; and there they dwell now (in the Isle\nAiaia, far away over the sea, we must suppose--Penelope as the wife\nof Telegonos, and Kirke with Telemachos.[30\\2]\n\n\u00a7 6\n\nIt is natural to feel surprise that in none of these stories is\nthere any mention of translation to a common meeting-place of the\nElect, such as the Elysian plain seemed to be. We must on that\naccount be content to leave unanswered the question to what precise\nextent these lines of the Odyssey which describe the translation of\nMenelaos to Elysium may have influenced the development of\ntranslation stories in the post-Homeric Epics. The influence must\nclearly have been {66} considerable.[31\\2] The stories of the\ntranslation of individual heroes to a solitary after-life in\nsecluded abodes of immortality show, at any rate, the same direction\nof fancy as that which produced the fields of Elysium. No longer\ndoes Eos, after she has snatched him from Hades, raise her son to be\namong the gods as once she had raised Kleitos and others of her\nfavourites. Memnon enters upon a peculiar state of being that\ndifferentiates him from the rest of mankind as much as from the\ngods. The same applies to Achilles and the other translated heroes.\nThus did poetry increase the number of those who belonged to this\nmiddle realm; who, born in **mortality have, outside the realms of\nOlympos, achieved immortality. It is still only favoured individuals\nwho enter this kingdom; it is still poetical aspiration, giving free\nrein to its creative instinct, that continues to transport an\never-increasing number of the bright figures of Legend into the\nillumination of everlasting life. Religious worship can have had no\nmore influence in the development of these stories than it had in\nthe narrative of the translation of Menelaos. Achilles, for example,\nmay in later times have had a cult paid to him on an island at the\nmouth of the Danube, supposed to be Leuke. But the cult was the\nresult and not the motive or the cause of the story. Iphigeneia was\ncertainly the epithet of a Moon-goddess; but the poet who told of\nthe translation of her namesake, the daughter of Agamemnon, had no\nsuspicion of the latter's identity with a goddess--otherwise he\nwould never have regarded her as Agamemnon's daughter. Nor, we may\nbe fairly certain, can it have been an accidental meeting with the\ncult of the goddess Iphigeneia, which induced him to invent an\nimmortality _iure postlimini_ for his mortal Iphigeneia, by the\nmachinery of translation. Both for the poet and his contemporaries\nthe importance and the essence of his narrative--whether free\ninvention or a reconstruction out of older material--lay in the fact\nthat it told of the raising of a mortal maiden, the daughter of\nmortal parents, to immortal life, and not to religious veneration\nwhich could not have made itself very apparent to the maiden\nrelegated to the distant Tauric country.\n\nThe busy expansion of the legendary material went on in epics that\nfinally lost themselves in genealogical poems. To what extent it may\nhave made use of the _motif_ of translation or transfiguration we\ncan no longer accurately judge. The materials at our disposal are\nquite insufficient to warrant any conclusion. When such a misty\nfigure as Telegonos is deemed worthy of immortality, it may be\nsupposed that in the mind {67} of the poet all the heroes of Epic\ntradition had come to be possessed of a virtual claim to a share in\nthis mode of continued existence in a life after death. Certainly\nthe more important among them could not be left out--those at least\nof whose end the Homeric poems themselves had not already given a\ndifferent version. The poem of the Return of the Heroes from Troy\nmay especially have given scope for many translation stories.[32\\2]\nWe may, for example, ask whether Diomedes, at least, whose\nimmortality is often vouched for by later mythology, was not already\nadded to the number of the immortals in the epics of the Heroic\ncycle. An Attic folk-song of the fifth century can speak with\nassurance of Diomedes as not having died but as living in the\n\"Islands of the Blest\". Thus a far greater company of the Heroes of\nthe Trojan War was thought of by the poetry of Homeric tradition as\ngathered together in \"Isles of the Blest\", far out to sea, than we\nshould guess from the summaries of the post-Homeric Epics which\naccident has preserved to us. This conclusion must be drawn from the\nlines of a Hesiodic poem which give us some remarkable information\nabout the oldest Greek forms of the Cult of the Souls and belief in\nimmortality, and the lines, therefore, must be subjected to a closer\nexamination.\n\nII\n\nThe Hesiodic poem known as the \"Works and Days\" consists of a number\nof independent pieces of didactic or narrative interest loosely\nstrung together. In it, not far from the beginning, comes the story\nof the Five Ages of Men. As regards its subject-matter, the train of\nthought which unites this section to the passages which precede and\nfollow it is hardly discoverable; in form it is quite disconnected.\n\nIn the beginning we are there told the gods of Olympos created a\nGolden race whose members lived like the gods, without care,\nsickness or decrepitude, and in enjoyment of rich possessions. After\ntheir death, which came upon them like sleep to tired men, they\nbecame, by the will of Zeus, _Daimones_ and Guardians of mankind.\nThey were followed by a Silver race, far inferior to the first, and\nunlike them in body as in mind. The men of this race had a long\nchildhood, lasting a hundred years, followed by a short youth,\nduring which their wantonness and pride in their dealings with each\nother and with the gods brought them much sorrow. Because they\nrefused the honours due to the gods Zeus destroyed them and they are\nnow Daimones of the Underworld, honoured {68} but inferior to the\nDaimones of the Golden Age. Zeus then created a third race, this\ntime of Bronze--hard-hearted and of great strength; war was their\ndelight, and being destroyed by their own hands they went down\nunhonoured to the House of Hades. Thereupon Zeus made a fourth race\nthat was juster and better, the race of Heroes, who were called\n\"Demigods\". They fought before Thebes and Troy and some of them\ndied, while others Zeus sent to dwell at the ends of the world on\nthe Islands of the Blest by the river Okeanos, where the Earth\nbrings them her fruits three times in the year. \"Would that I did\nnot belong to the fifth Age; would that I had died earlier or been\nborn hereafter,\" says the poet, \"since now is the Iron Age,\" when\ntoil and grief never leave men, when there is enmity of all against\nall and force conquers right, and Envy, evil-tongued, delighting in\nwickedness, fierce-eyed, is over everything. Now, Shame and the\ngoddess of retribution, Nemesis, depart from men and go to the gods;\nevery misfortune is left behind for man, and there is no defence\nagainst evil.\n\nThe author here lays before us the results of gloomy reflection upon\nthe origin and growth of evil in the world of men. He sees the steps\nof mankind's degeneration from the height of godlike happiness to\nthe extremes of misery and wickedness. He is following popular\nconceptions. It is natural to every race of men to lay the scene of\nearthly perfection in the past, so long, at least, as man gets his\ninformation about that past not from distinct historical memory, but\nfrom the picturesque stories and beautiful dreams of the poets which\nencourage the natural tendency of fancy to retain only the more\nattractive features of the past in the memory. The folk-lore of many\nlands can tell of a Golden Age and how mankind gradually fell from\nthat high estate; and it is not at all surprising if fanciful\nspeculation starting from the same point and travelling along the\nsame road has reached the same conclusion in the case of more than\none people without the aid of any historical connexion. We have a\nnumber of expressions of the idea of man's gradual degeneration\nthrough several Ages which present the most striking similarities\namong themselves and with the Hesiodic picture of the five Ages of\nMen. Even Homer is sometimes overcome by the mood; it lies, for\ninstance, at the root of such idealizations of the past as are\nimplied when in his description of the heroic life he thinks of \"men\nas they now are\" and \"how few sons are equal to their fathers in\nvirtue; worse, most of them; few, indeed, are the men who are better\nthan their fathers\" {69} (_Od._ ii, 276 f.). But the epic poet keeps\nhimself and his fancy on the heights of the heroic Past; only\noccasionally, and in passing, his glance falls upon the commonplace\nlevel of real life. But the poet of the \"Works and Days\" has all his\nthoughts fixed upon the level plain of real and contemporary life;\nthe glance which he occasionally casts upon the heights of the\nstoried past is all the more bitter on that account.\n\nWhat he has to say of the first condition of mankind and the gradual\nprocess of deterioration is given, not as an abstract exposition of\nwhat in the necessary course of things must have occurred, but\nrather as a traditional account of what had actually happened--in\nfact, as history.\n\nIn this light he himself must certainly have regarded it, though,\napart from a few vague memories, no historical tradition is\ncontained in what he says of the nature and deeds of the earlier\ngenerations of mankind. His story remains an imaginary picture. And\nfor this reason the development, as he presents it, takes a\nlogically defined and regulated course, based on the idea of a\ngradual deterioration. The uneventful happiness of the first race of\nmen who know neither virtue nor vice is followed by a second race,\nwhich after a prolonged minority displays pride and contempt of the\ngods. In the third, or brazen age, active wickedness breaks out,\nwith war and murder. The last age, at the beginning of which the\npoet himself seems to stand, marks the breakdown of all moral\nrestraint. The fourth race of men, to which the heroes of the Theban\nand Trojan wars belong, is alone among all the others in not being\nnamed and ranked after a metal. It is an alien in the evolutionary\nprocess. The downward course is checked during the fourth age, and\nyet in the fifth it goes on again as if it had never been\ninterrupted. It is not apparent why that course should have been\ninterrupted. Most of the commentators have recognized in the story\nof the fourth age a fragment of different material, originally\nforeign to the poem of the Ages of Men and added deliberately by\nHesiod to this poem, which he may have taken over in its essential\nfeatures from older poets. But if we adopt this view we have to ask\nwhat can have tempted the poet to such serious disturbance and\ndislocation of the orderly succession of the original speculative\npoem. It will not be enough to say that the poet, brought up in the\nHomeric tradition, found it impossible to pass over, in a\ndescription of the earlier ages of men, the figures of the heroic\npoetry which, thanks to the power of song, had acquired in the\nimagination of the Greeks more reality than the plainest\nmanifestations of actual life. Nor {70} is it likely that, having in\nhis grim description of the Bronze race introduced a darker picture\nof the Heroic age, drawn from a point of view different from that of\nthe courtly Epos, he wished to set by its side this bright vision of\nthe same age as he saw it in his own mind. If the picture of the\nBronze race does really refer to the Heroic age,[33\\2] giving its\nreverse side, so to speak, Hesiod never seems to have noticed the\nfact. He must have had stronger grounds than these for the\nintroduction of his narrative. He cannot have failed to perceive\nthat he was breaking the continuity of moral deterioration by his\nintroduction of the Heroic race. It follows that he must have had\nsome aim, other than that of the description of the moral\ndeterioration of men, which he imagined himself to be serving by the\nintroduction of this new section. This other purpose will become\nplain if we inquire what it is that really interests the poet in the\nHeroic race. It is not their higher morality--that only interrupted\nthe series of continually worsening generations. Nor would he in\nthat case have dismissed the subject with a few words which barely\nsuffice to connect this section with the theme of moral development.\nFurther, it is not the fights and great deeds done at Thebes or Troy\nthat interest him for he says nothing of their greatness, and at\nonce declares that the cruel war and the dread fury of battle\ndestroyed the Heroes. This, again, does not discriminate between the\nHeroes and the men of the Bronze age who also, being destroyed by\ntheir own deeds, had to go down to Hades. What distinguishes the\nHeroic age from the others is the way in which some of the Heroes\ndepart from this life without dying. This is the point that\ninterests the poet, and this it must have been that chiefly induced\nhim to bring in here his account of the fourth race of men. He\ncombines clearly enough with his main purpose of describing the\nadvancing moral decline of man, a secondary aim--that of telling\nwhat happened after death to the representatives of each successive\nrace. In introducing the Heroic race of men this secondary aim\nbecomes the chief one, and justifies what would otherwise have been\nmerely an intrusive episode. It is this aim, too, which gives the\nHesiodic narrative its importance for our present inquiry.\n\n\u00a7 2\n\nThe men of the Golden Age, after sleep has overcome them and they\nhave died and been laid in the earth, become by the will of Zeus\n\"Daimones\"--Daimones upon earth, watchers of men, wandering over all\nthe earth, veiled in clouds, {71} observing justice and\ninjustice,[34\\2] dispensing riches like kings. These men of the\nearliest times have then become effective realities. They are not\nspirits confined to an inaccessible region beyond this world, but\npowers acting and working amongst men. In this exalted state Hesiod\ncalls them _Daimones_, and thus describes them by a name which is\notherwise applied by him as well as by Homer only to the immortal\ngods. The name so employed is not to be understood as implying a\nseparate class of immortals, an intermediate class of beings between\ngods and men, as later speculation used the word.[35\\2] These later\nbeings of an intermediate class were thought of as possessing an\noriginally immortal nature like the gods, and as dwelling in an\nintermediate region of their own. Hesiod's Daimones, on the\ncontrary, have once been men and have only after their death become\nimmortals invisibly[36\\2] roaming the earth. When they are given the\nname Daimones nothing more is implied than that they now share the\ninvisible might and unending life of the gods, and to that extent\nmay be called gods--with as much right as Ino Leukothea, for\ninstance, who, according to Homer, became a goddess after being a\nmortal; or as Pha\u00ebthon, who, according to the Hesiodic Theogony, was\nraised by Aphrodite from the world of mortality and is now called a\n\"godlike Daimon\" (_Th._, 991). On the other hand, these immortals\nwho were once men are clearly distinguished from the everlasting\ngods, \"who have their Olympian dwellings,\" by being called Daimones\n\"who rule upon earth\".[37\\2] And though they are given the name,\nfamiliar to everybody from Homer, of Daimones, i.e. gods, they,\nnevertheless, form a class of beings which is entirely unknown to\nHomer. Homer knows of certain individual men who are raised or\ntranslated, body and soul together, to undying life. The later Epos\ncan tell of certain also who, like Memnon or Achilles, receive a new\nlife after their death and now live on in undivided unity of body\nand soul. But that the soul outside Erebos could carry on a\nconscious life of its own and influence living men--of this there is\nno mention in Homer. Yet this is exactly what has happened according\nto the Hesiodic poem. The men of the Golden Age have died and now\nlive on divided from their bodies, invisible and godlike, and\ntherefore called gods. Just as in Homer, the gods themselves assume\nmanifold shapes and visit the cities of men, observing the good and\nevil deeds of men,[38\\2] so also do the souls of the dead in Hesiod.\nFor the beings who here, after their separation from the body, have\nbecome Daimones, are _Souls_--that is to say, beings who after their\n{72} death have entered in any case upon a higher existence than was\ntheirs while they were united to the body. This, however, is an idea\nthat we never meet with in the Homeric poems.\n\nAnd yet it is quite unthinkable that this remarkable conception is\nthe independent and passing invention of the Boeotian poet. He comes\nback to it again later on in the course of his poem. \"Thirty\nthousand,\" that is, innumerable immortal Watchers over mortal men\nwander invisibly in the service of Zeus over the earth, taking note\nof right and wrong (_Op._, 252 ff.). The conception is important to\nhim for ethical reasons; if he is to make use of it in his argument\nhe must not have invented it himself. And, in fact, nothing that\nbelongs to the sphere of religious belief and cultus, or even the\nlower levels of superstition, has been invented by this\nearnest-minded poet. The Boeotian school of poetry to which he\nbelonged was far removed from, and indeed, hostile to the free\ninventiveness and roaming fancy with which the Homeric school \". . .\nknow how to put forward many lies and make them seem like truth\"\n(_Th._, 27). In pursuance of their purpose not simply to please but\nalways in some sense to teach, the Boeotian poets never innovate in\nthe region of the purely mythical, but simply order or piece\ntogether, or merely register what they find in the tradition. In\nreligion especially invention lies farthest from their minds, though\nthey do not by any means deny themselves the right of independent\nspeculation about the traditional. Thus, what Hesiod tells us about\nthe men of a previous age, whose souls after death become Daimones,\ncame to him from tradition. It might still be objected that this\ntradition while being older than Hesiod may, nevertheless, be more\nrecent than Homer, and be the result of post-Homeric speculation. It\nis unnecessary to develop the reasons which make such a view\nuntenable; the course of our inquiry up to the present has made it\npossible for us to maintain decidedly that in what Hesiod here says\nwe have a fragment of primitive belief reaching back far beyond\nHomer and surviving in the secluded Boeotian countryside. We have\nfound even in the poems of Homer vestiges of a cult of the dead\nsufficient to make us believe that once in a distant past the Greeks\nresembled the majority of other nations and believed in the\ncontinued, conscious existence of the psyche after its separation\nfrom the body and in its powerful influence upon the world of men.\nWe found, too, that in accordance with this belief, religious\nhonours of various sorts were paid to the disembodied souls. In\nHesiod's narrative we simply have documentary confirmation of {73}\nwhat could only be with difficulty extracted from the study of\nHomer. Here we encounter the still living belief in the elevation of\nthe soul after death to a higher life. They are the souls, it must\nbe noted, of a race of men long since disappeared, about whom this\nbelief is held. The belief in their godlike after-life must\ntherefore be long-standing, and the worship of these souls as\npowerful beings still continues. For when it is said of the souls of\nthe second race \"these also receive worship\"[39\\2] (_Op._, 142), it\nis distinctly implied that the Daimones of the first or Golden\ngeneration _a fortiori_ received worship.\n\nThe men of the Silver generation, on account of their refusal to pay\ndue honour to the Olympians, are \"hidden\" by Zeus under the earth,\nand are now called \"mortal Blessed Ones that live below the earth,\nsecond in rank, yet worship is paid to them also\" (141-2). Thus, the\npoet knows of the souls of men who likewise belonged to the distant\npast, whose home is in the bowels of the earth, who receive\nreligious honour and who must therefore have been conceived as\npowerful. The poet has not specified the nature of their influence\nupon the upper world. It is true that he does not distinctly call\nthe spirits of this second generation \"good\", as he had done the\nfirst (122), and he makes them spring from the less perfect Silver\nage and seems to have given them inferior rank. But it does not\nfollow that he here anticipated later speculation and thought of the\nsecond generation as a class of wicked demons whose nature it is to\nwork evil.[40\\2] Only to the Olympians do they seem to stand in a\nrather more distant relationship--almost one of hostility. They had\nbefore paid the gods none of their pious dues, and so now they are\nnot called, like the souls of the first race, \"Daimones appointed by\nZeus to be Watchers of men.\" The poet refers to them with a\nremarkable expression, \"mortal Blessed Ones,\" that is, mortal gods.\nThis very singular denomination, the two parts of which really\ncancel one another, points to a certain embarrassment felt by the\npoet in making use of an expression taken from the Homeric\nvocabulary (to which the poet felt himself confined) to designate\nclearly and effectively a class of beings that was unknown to\nHomer.[41\\2] The disembodied souls of the first race he had simply\ncalled Daimones. But this name, common as it was both to the race of\nthose who from mortality had achieved immortality and to the\nimmortal gods, left the essential difference between the two classes\nof immortal beings unexpressed. For that very reason the name was\nnever employed in Hesiod's fashion by later ages,[42\\2] who always\n{74} called such as, not having been born immortal, had achieved\nimmortality, by the name of \"Heroes\". Hesiod, who could not use the\nword in this sense, described them by the bold oxymoron: mortal\nBlessed Ones, human gods. As immortal spirits they resembled the\ngods in their new state of being. But their nature was still mortal,\nand hence their bodies had to die, and this constituted their\ndifference from the everlasting gods.[43\\2]\n\nThe name Daimones then does not appear to involve any essential\ndistinction between the spirits of the men of the Silver generation\nand the Daimones of the Golden Age. Only the place where the two\nclasses of spirits have their dwelling is different--the Daimones of\nthe Silver race live in the depths of the earth. The expression \"of\nthe underworld\", used of them, is a vague one, and only suffices to\ndifferentiate them from the spirits of the \"upper world\" who were\nderived from the first race. Still, the abode of the souls of the\nSilver Age is in any case not thought of as being the distant\nmeeting-place of the unconscious, vegetating shadow-souls--the House\nof Hades; the \"phantoms\" that hover about that place could not have\nbeen called Daimones or \"mortal gods\", nor do they receive any kind\nof worship after their death.\n\n\u00a7 3\n\nThe Silver Age, then, belongs to a long-since vanished past.[44\\2]\nThe stalwarts of the Bronze Age, we are told, destroyed by their\ndeeds, went down into the gloomy home of the dreadful Hades,\nnameless. Black Death seized them, for all their violence, and they\nleft the light of the sun.\n\nExcept for the addition of the adjective \"nameless\" one might,\nindeed, suppose that this was a description of the fate of the souls\nof the Homeric heroes. Perhaps, however, the word[45\\2] only means\nthat no honourable and distinctive title, such as belonged to the\nsouls of the first and second as well as to the fourth race, was\nattached to those who had gone down into the shadow-world of\nannihilation and become as nothing.\n\nThere follows \"the divine race of Heroes who were called the\nDemigods\". The wars at Thebes and Troy destroyed these. Part were\n\"enfolded in the destiny of Death\"; others received life and a home\nfar from men at the hand of Zeus Kronides, who gave them a\ndwelling-place at the ends of the world. There they live, free from\ncare, in the Islands of the Blest, by the deep-flowing Okeanos;\nfavoured Heroes, for whom the Earth, of her own accord, brings forth\nher sweet fruits three times a year. {75}\n\nHere, at last, for the first time we have reached a clearly\ndefinable period of legendary history. The poet means to speak of\nthe Heroes whose adventures were narrated in the Thebais, the Iliad\nand kindred poems. What we notice here specially is how little the\nGreeks yet knew of their history. Immediately after the\ndisappearance of the Heroes the poet begins the age in which he\nhimself must live. Where the realm of poetry ends, there is an end\nof all further tradition; there follows a blank, and to all\nappearances the present age immediately begins. That explains why\nthe Heroic Age is the last before the fifth, to which the poet\nhimself belongs, and why it does not, for example, precede the\n(undated) Bronze Age. It connects itself conveniently with the\nBronze Age also in what is related of the fate suffered by a part of\nits representatives, for the subject which here particularly\ninterests the poet is the fate of the departed. Some of the fallen\nHeroes simply die--that is to say (there can be no doubt of it) they\nenter the realm of Hades like the members of the Bronze race or the\nHeroes of the Iliad. But when others are _distinguished_ from those\nwhom \"Death took\" in that they reach the Islands of the Blest, it is\nimpossible not to suppose that these last have not suffered death,\nthat is, the separation of the Psyche from the visible Self, but\nhave been carried away alive in the flesh. The poet is thinking of\nsuch cases as those we have met with in the Odyssean narrative of\nMenelaos, or, in the Telegoneia, of Penelope, Telemachos and\nTelegonos. These few exceptional instances could hardly have made\nsuch a deep impression on him that he felt himself bound on their\nbehalf to erect a special class of the Translated to be set over\nagainst those who simply died. There can be no doubt that he had\nmany more examples before him of this same mysterious mode of\nseparation from the world of men that did not involve death. We have\nalready seen how the lines in the Odyssey in which the translation\nof Menelaos is foreshadowed, point back to other and earlier poems\nof the same kind. Further, the references to the subject which we\nfound in the remains of the Cyclic Epics make it easy to suppose\nthat later Heroic poetry had been continually widening the circle of\nthose who enjoyed translation and illumination.\n\nOnly from such a poetical source can Hesiod have derived his\nconception of a common meeting-place where the Translated enjoy for\never their untroubled existence. He calls that place the \"Islands of\nthe Blest\"; and these lie far removed from the world of men, in the\nOcean, on the confines of the earth, just where the Odyssey puts the\nElysian {76} plain, another meeting-place of the still-living\nTranslated, or rather the same under a different name. Its name does\nnot oblige us to regard the \"Elysian plain\" as an island, but\nneither does it exclude that assumption. Homer never expressly calls\nthe land of the Ph\u00e6acians an island,[46\\2] but the imagination of\nmost readers will picture Scheri\u00ea as such, and so did the Greeks\nperhaps already at the time of the Hesiodic school of poets. In the\nsame way a poet may have thought of the \"Land of Destiny\" that\nreceives passing mention in Homer as an island, or group of islands;\nonly an island surrounded and cut off by the sea can give the full\nimpression of a distant asylum far from the world, inaccessible to\nall save those specially called thither. And accordingly the\nmythology of many peoples, especially those who live by the sea, has\nmade a distant island the dwelling-place of the souls of the\ndeparted.\n\nComplete isolation is the essential feature of the whole idea of\ntranslation, as Hesiod clearly shows. A later poet has added a\nline--which does not quite fit into its place--to make this\nisolation even more marked.[47\\2] According to it, these Blessed\nOnes live not only \"far from men\" (167), but also (169) far from the\nimmortals, and are ruled over by Kronos. The writer of this line\nfollows a beautiful legend, later, however, than Hesiod, in which\nZeus released the aged Kronos, together with the other Titans,[48\\2]\nfrom Tartaros, so that the old king of the gods, under whose rule\nthe Golden Age had once prevailed with peace and happiness upon\nearth, now wields the sceptre of another Golden Age over the Blessed\nin Elysium, himself a figure of peaceful contemplation dwelling far\naway from the stormy world, from the throne of which he has been\nousted by Zeus. Hesiod himself has provoked this transference of\nKronos from the Golden Age to the land of the Translated; for in the\nfew lines that he devotes to the description of the life of the\nBlessed a reminiscence of the picture of the Golden Age's untroubled\nexistence is clearly discernible. Both pictures, the one of a\nchildhood's paradise in the past, the other of unclouded happiness\nreserved in the future for the elect, are closely related; it is\ndifficult to say which of them has influenced the other[49\\2] since\nthe colours must have been the same in any case--the purely idyllic\nhaving an inevitable uniformity of its own.\n\n\u00a7 4\n\nHesiod says nothing of any influence upon this world exerted by the\nsouls of the Translated in the Islands of the Blest, such as is\nattributed to the Daimones of the Golden {77} race, nor of any\nreligious worship, which would be implied by such influence if it\nexisted, such as the underworld spirits of the Silver Age receive.\nAll relations with this world are broken off, for any influence from\nthis side would completely contradict the whole conception of these\nblessed departed. Hesiod faithfully sets down the conception of the\nTranslated exactly as poetic fancy, without any interference from\nreligious cultus, or the folk-belief founded on it, had\ninstinctively shaped it.\n\nSupposing, then, that he follows Homeric and post-Homeric poetic\ntradition in this particular, whence did he derive his ideas about\nthe Daimones and spirits of the Golden and Silver Ages? He did not\nand could not have got these from Homeric or semi-Homeric sources,\nfor they (unlike the idea of Translation) do not simply expand, but\nactually contradict Homeric beliefs about the soul. To this question\nwe may answer with certainty; he derived them from _cultus_. There\nsurvived, in spite of Homer, at least in central Greece where the\nHesiodic poetry had its home, a religious worship paid to the souls\nof certain departed classes of men; and this cultus preserved alive,\nat least as a vague tradition, a belief which Homer had obscured and\ndispossessed. It only reached the Boeotian poet, whose own\nconceptions spring entirely from the soil of Homeric belief, as from\na far distance. Already in the days of the Bronze race, he tells us,\nthe souls of the dead were swallowed up in the dread House of Hades,\nand this (with a few miraculous exceptions) applies to the Heroic\nrace as well. And for the poet, standing as he does, at the opening\nof the Iron Age, to which he himself belongs, nothing remains but\ndissolution in the nothingness of Erebos. That such is his view is\nproved by his silence about the fate after death of his\ngeneration--a silence that is all the more oppressive because the\ngrim picture that he gives of the misery and ever-increasing\ndepravity of real and contemporary life might seem to require a\nbrighter and more hopeful picture of future compensation, if only to\nbalance it and make it endurable. But he is silent about all such\nfuture compensation; he has no such hope to offer. Though in another\npart of the same poem Hope alone of all the blessings of an earlier\nand better age still remains among men, such Hope no longer\nilluminates the next world, at any rate, with its beams. The poet,\nmore deeply distressed by the common realities of life, can by no\nmeans dispense so easily as the singers of the epic tradition\nenclosed in the magic circle of their poetry, with such hopes of the\nfuture. He can draw comfort only from what poetry {78} or religious\nmyth tell him of the far distant past. It never enters his head to\nbelieve that the miracle of the translation of living men could\ntranscend the limits of the Heroic Age and repeat itself in the\ncommon and prosaic present day. And the time when, according to a\nlaw of nature no longer (so it seems) in operation, the souls of the\ndead became Daimones and lived a higher life upon and beneath the\nearth, is situated far back in the distant past. Another law rules\nnow; the men of to-day may still worship the immortal spirits of the\nGolden and the Silver Age, but they themselves will never be added\nto the number of those illuminated and exalted souls.\n\n\u00a7 5\n\nHesiod's description, then, of the five Ages of Men gives us the\nmost important information about the development of Greek belief in\nthe soul. What he tells us of the spirits of the Silver and Golden\nrace shows that from the earliest dawn of history down to the actual\nlifetime of the poet, a form of _ancestor-worship_ had prevailed,\nbased upon the once living belief in the elevation of disembodied\nand immaterial souls to the rank of powerful, consciously active\nspirits. But the company of these spirits receives no additions from\nthe life of the present day. For centuries now the souls of the dead\nhave been claimed by Hades and his vain shadow world. The worship of\nthe soul is stationary; it affects only the souls of the long-since\ndeparted; it no longer increases the number of the objects of its\nworship. In other words, the belief has changed; the Homeric poems\nhave triumphed and the view they held, and to which they gave\nauthority, and, as it were, official sanction, now prevails. They\nteach men that the psyche once separated from the body loses all its\npowers and consciousness; the strengthless shadows are received into\na distant Underworld. For them, no action, no influence upon the\nworld of men is possible, and therefore no cult can be paid to them.\nOnly on the farthest horizon faintly appear the Islands of the\nBlest, but the circle of the fortunate, who, according to the\nvisionary fancy of the poets, are translated alive there, is now\nclosed, just as the circle of epic story is complete also. Such\nmiracles no longer happen.\n\nNothing in this evolutionary process so clearly depicted in the poem\nof Hesiod contradicts what we have learned from Homer. One thing\nonly is new and immensely important; in spite of everything the\nmemory survives that once the souls of departed generations of men\nhad achieved a higher, {79} undying life. Hesiod speaks in the\npresent tense of their being and working and of the worship paid to\nthem after their death; if they are believed to be immortal, men\nwill naturally continue to worship them. And the opposite also is\ntrue; if the worship of such spirits had not survived into the\npresent, no one would have held them to be deathless and eternally\npotent.\n\nIn a word, we are in the old Greek mainland, the land of Boeotian\npeasants and urban farmers, among a stay-at-home race which neither\nknows nor desires to know of the seafaring life that tempts men to\nforeign lands whence they bring back so much that is new and\nstrange. Here in the central uplands vestiges of ancient custom and\nbelief remained that had been forgotten in the maritime cities of\nnew Greece on the Asiatic coast. Even here, however, the new\nlearning had penetrated to this extent: the structure of ancient\nbelief, transported into the distant past, interwoven with fanciful\ntales of the earliest state of mankind, like the expiring echo of\nhalf-forgotten song lives on only in memory. But the cult of Souls,\nis not yet quite dead; the possibility remains that it may yet renew\nits strength and expand into fresh life when once the magic\ninfluence of the Homeric view of the world shall have been broken.\n\n\n\nNOTES TO CHAPTER II\n\n[1\\2: It is not for nothing that what is here said of the \"climate\",\nif one may so call it, of the Elysian plain, ~d~ 566-8, reminds us\nso strikingly of the description of the abode of the Gods on\nOlympos, ~z~ 43-5.]\n\n[2\\2: The announcement of the fate of Menelaos is quite superfluous;\nit is not necessitated (and not even justified) by his first request\n(468 ff.), or by his further questions (486 ff.; 551 ff.). Nitzsch\nalready regarded the lines 561-8 as a later addition: _Anm. z. Od._\niii, p. 352--though indeed on grounds that I cannot regard as\nconclusive. Others have done the same since.]\n\n[3\\2: The following are made invisible (by envelopment in a cloud)\nand carried away--this, though not always stated, is most probably\nto be understood in most cases: Paris, by Aphrodite, ~G~ 380 ff.;\nAeneas, by Apollo, ~E~ 344 f.; Idaios, son of Dares, the priest of\nHephaistos, by Heph., ~E~ 23; Hektor, by Apollo, ~U~ 443 f.; Aeneas,\nby Poseidon, ~U~ 325 ff.; Agenor, by Apollo, ~Ph~ 596 ff.--this last\nappears to be the original copied twice over in the story of this\none day of fighting by later poets (in the above-mentioned cases of\nthe use of the motif, ~U~ 325 ff.; 443 f.). It is remarkable (for no\nspecial reason for it suggests itself) that all these cases of\ntranslation are found on the _Trojan_ side. Otherwise we only have\none instance (and that only in the narrative of a long past\nadventure, the translation of the Anaktoriones by their father\nPoseidon, ~L~ 750 ff. Lastly, a case that hardly goes beyond those\nalready mentioned: Zeus could have translated alive his son Sarpedon\nout of the fray and placed him in his Lykian home (~P~ 436), but\nrefrains owing to the warning of Hera (440 ff.).]\n\n[4\\2: The wish to die quickly is expressly _contrasted_ with the\nwish to be carried off by the Harpies, 63 ~\u00ea\\ e/peita~--\"or if not,\"\ni.e. if quick death is denied to me. (v. _Rh. Mus._ 50, 2, 2.) Again\n79-80: ~h\u00f4s e/m' _a\u00efst\u00f4/seian_ Olu/mpia d\u00f4/mat' e/chontes \u00eae/ m'\ne\u00fcplo/kamos ba/loi A/rtemis~. Thus the Harpies (= ~thu/ella~ 63) in\nthis case do not bring death but carry away men alive (~anarpa/xasa\noi/choito~ 63 f., ~ha/rpuiai an\u00earei/psanto~ 77 = ~ane/lonto\nthu/ellai~ 66, and they carry them off ~kat' \u00eaero/enta ke/leutha~ 64\nto the ~prochoai\\ apsorro/ou \u00d4keanoi=o~ 65 ~e/dosan stuger\u00ea=|sin\nErinu/sin amphipoleu/ein~ 78). At the \"mouths of Okeanos\" (where it\ngoes into the sea is the entrance to the world of the dead; ~k~ 508\nff., ~l~ 13 ff. To be carried off by the storm-spirits used\nproverbially as a wish: ~Z~ 345 ff. ~h\u00f4=s m' o/phel' \u00ea/mati t\u00f4=|\nho/te me pr\u00f4=ton te/ke m\u00ea/t\u00ear oi/chesthai prophe/rousa kak\u00ea\\\nane/moio _thu/ella_ eis o/ros \u00ea\\ eis ku=ma poluphloi/sboio\nthala/ss\u00eas~ (i.e. to some solitary place, Orph., _H._ 19, 19; 36,\n16; 71, 11). Such transportation through the air is elsewhere\ncontrasted with death and dwelling in Hades, as in Penelope's\nprayer. (Roscher, _Kynanthropie_ [Abh. d. s\u00e4chs. Ges. d. Wiss.\nxvii], p. 67, gives a strange but hardly the correct explanation of\nthis.) Cf. Soph., _Tr._, 953 ff.; _Ai._, 1193 ff.; (_Phil._, 1092\nff.?); cf. also Eur., _Hipp._, 1279 ff.; _Ion_, 805 f.; _Supp._,\n833-6. A deeply rooted popular mode of thought, and one of primeval\nantiquity, lies at the root of all {81} these instances.--~hupo\\\npneuma/t\u00f4n sunarpage/nta a/phanton gene/sthai~ is a reason for\n~timai\\ atha/natoi~, in the only half-rationalized story of Hesperos\nin D.S. 3, 60, 3.]\n\n[5\\2: One would like to know more of this strange story, but what we\nlearn elsewhere of Pandareos and his daughters (Sch. ~u~ 66-7; ~t~\n518; Ant. Lib. 36) contributes nothing to the understanding of the\nHomeric narrative and probably belongs in part to another connexion.\nPandareos, father of A\u00ebdon (~t~ 518 ff.), seems to be another\nperson. Even the strange representation of the two daughters of\nPandareos in Polygnotos' picture of the underworld (Paus. 10, 30, 2)\ncasts no light on the Homeric fable. (Cf. Roscher, _Kynan._, 4 ff.,\n65 f.)]\n\n[6\\2: The Erinyes live normally in Erebos, as is shown esp. by ~I~\n571 f.; ~T~ 259. But when they punish during the lifetime of the\ncriminal acts done in contravention of the laws of family life, it\nmust be supposed that they were sometimes thought of as going about\nthe earth, e.g. ~I~ 454: ~l~ 278--for \"working at a distance\" seems\nimpossible--as in Hes., Op., 803 f.--~Erinu/sin amphipoleu/ein~ (78)\ncannot be anything but \"serve the Erinyes\", \"become their\n~amphi/poloi~\". To understand it as Roscher does (_Kynan._, 65, n.\n183) following Eustathius, in the sense \"fly about in the train of\nthe E.\" is forbidden by the use of the simple dative ~Erinu/si~\njoined closely with ~amph.~ (~theai=s amphipol\u00f4=n~ Soph., _O.C._,\n680, is different.)]\n\n[7\\2: \"When the Bride of the Wind comes by you must throw yourself\non the ground as though it were the Muodisheere (on which see Grimm\n(E.T.), p. 931) otherwise they will carry you off.\" Birlinger,\n_Volksth\u00fcml. a. Schwaben_, i, 192, \"She is the Devil's Bride,\" ib.\n(On the \"Bride of the Wind\", etc., see Grimm, pp. 632, 1009.) Such\nwind-spirits are in unholy alliance with the \"Furious Host\", i.e.\nthe unquiet \"souls\" of the dead that travel through the air by\nnight.]\n\n[8\\2: On the Harpies, see _Rh. Mus._, 50, 1-5.]\n\n[9\\2: See N\u00e4gelsb., _H.T._, pp. 42-3, and Roscher, _Nektar u.\nAmbrosia_, p. 51 ff., answering Bergk's objections, _Opusc._ ii,\n669. (Arist. _Meta._, 1000a, 9-14, is very definite.)]\n\n[10\\2: It is not improbable that this Ino Leukothea was originally a\ngoddess who was later turned into a \"Heroine\" (identified with the\ndaughter of Kadmos for reasons no longer recoverable and only\nafterwards turned back again into a goddess. But for the Homeric age\nshe was essentially a mortal who had _become_ a goddess: for this\nreason, just because she was an example of such deification of\nmortals, she remained an interesting character to later writers; cf.\nin addition to the well-known passages in Pindar, etc., Cic., _T.D._\ni, 28. Only what the actual conception of the people and their poets\nwas--not what may possibly be suggested as the doubtful background\nof such conceptions--concerns me in this as in many other cases.]\n\n[11\\2: Only temporary translation (~an\u00ea/rpase~) of Marpessa by\nApollo ~I~ 564.]\n\n[12\\2: Ganymedes, ~an\u00ea/rpase the/spis _a/ella_~, _h. Ven._, 208, as\nthe ~thu/ella~ (= ~Ha/rpuia~) did the daughters of Pandareos. The\neagle is the addition of later poetry.]\n\n[13\\2: ~L~ 1; ~e~ 1.]\n\n[14\\2: ~\u00ca\u00f4\\s . . . ap' \u00d4keanoi=o rhoa/\u00f4n \u00f4/rnuth', hi/n'\nathana/toisi pho/\u00f4s phe/roi \u00eade\\ brotoi=sin~, ~T~ 1 f.: cf. ~ps~ 244\n(_h. Merc._, 184 f.). So also _h. Ven._, 224 ff., says of Tithonos:\n~\u00caoi= terpo/menos chrusothro/n\u00f4| \u00earigenei/\u00ea| nai=e par' \u00d4keanoi=o\nrho\u00ea=|s epi\\ pei/rasi gai/\u00eas~, in good Homeric style. It seems that\nthe magic island Aiaia was considered the home of Eos (and of\nTithonos): ~m~ 3: ~n\u00ea=so/n t' Aiai/\u00ean, ho/thi t' \u00caou=s \u00earigenei/\u00eas\n{82} oiki/a kai\\ choroi/ eisi antolai\\ \u00eaeli/oio~. I need not here go\ninto the attempts made even in antiquity to explain the\nmuch-discussed difficulty introduced by this verse and to bring it\ninto conformity with the westerly situation of Aiaia implied in the\nrest of the Odyssey. One thing is certain: the first composer of\nthis verse thought of Aiaia as lying towards the east. Only the last\nresources of the commentator's art could situate the place of the\n\"sun's uprising\" and the \"dwelling of the Dawn\" in the west.]\n\n[15\\2: Among innumerable unsuccessful attempts made by the ancients\nat finding an etymological derivation for the word ~\u00calu/sion~ (Sch.,\n~d~ 563, Eust., p. 1509, Hesych., s.v., etc., also Cels. ap. Orig.,\n_Cels._ vii, 28, p. 53 L.) occurs also the right one, _E.M._, 428,\n36: ~para\\ t\u00ea\\n e/leusin, e/ntha hoi eusebei=s paragi/nontai~. The\ngrammarians seem to have disputed over the question, did Menelaos\nlive for ever in Elysion? It was agreed on all hands that he reached\nthat abode alive, without separation of psyche from body; but the\nover-subtle thought that the prophecy meant that he too should die\nthere though not in Argos--not that he should never die at all: so\nesp. _E. Gud._, 242, 2 ff. This was the opinion also of those who\nderived ~\u00calu/sion~ from the fact that there the ~psuchai\\\n_lelume/nai_ t\u00f4=n s\u00f4ma/t\u00f4n dia/gousi~: Eust., 1509, 29, _E.M._, etc.\nThe etymology is as bad as the interpretation of the line. The line\nremained, however, throughout antiquity as a curiosity; intelligent\nreaders understood the prophecy quite rightly as referring to the\ntranslation of Menelaos to everlasting life without separation of\n~psuch\u00ea/~ from body; e.g. Porph. ap. Stob., _Ecl._ i, p. 422, 8 ff.,\nW. So, too, those who gave the right interpretation of fact, but\nrested it upon the more dubious etymology: ~\u00calu/sion oulu/sion,\nho/ti ou dialu/ontai apo\\ t\u00f4=n s\u00f4ma/t\u00f4n hai psuchai/~. Hesych. (cf.\n_E.M._, 428, 34-5; Sch., ~d~ 563; Procl. on Hes., _Op._, 169).]\n\n[16\\2: ~ou m\u00ea\\n phai/netai/ ge (ho poi\u00eat\u00ea/s) proagag\u00f4\\n to\\n lo/gon\nes ple/on h\u00f4s heu/r\u00eama a/n tis oikei=on, prosapsa/menos de\\ autou=\nmo/non ha/te es ha/pan \u00ea/d\u00ea diabebo\u00eame/nou to\\ Hell\u00eaniko/n~--to\nadopt the words that Pausanias (10, 31, 4) uses of a similar case.]\n\n[17\\2: The reasons for the special favour shown to Rhadamanthys are\nas unknown to us as they evidently were to the Greeks of later\ntimes. What is generally said of the \"justice\" of Rhad. rests upon\nprivate opinion only and does not supply the place of the precise\nlegend that should have justified his translation. That he once had\na complete legend of his own may be guessed from the allusion to him\nin ~\u00ea~ 323, though that passage still leaves us quite in the dark.\nAt any rate, it certainly does not follow from that reference that\nwhile dwelling in Elysion he was a neighbour of the Phaeacians as\nWelcker thinks: nor further that he had always been a dweller in\nElysion, as Preller supposes, instead of being transported there.\nNothing in the former passage justifies us in regarding him as then\ndwelling in Elysion; while the other reference to him must be\nsupposed to mean that Rhad. just as much as Menelaos, was translated\nto Elys. (and so e.g. Paus. understood the poet 8, 53, 5: ~pro/teron\nde\\ e/ti Rhada/manthun entau=tha h\u00ea/kein~; doubtful: Aesch. _fr._\n99, 12-13). In fact, we have lost the legends which gave the details\nof his translation: his figure had become isolated and had not\nentered into the greater circle of epic figures--and as a\nconsequence his mythical context soon disappeared too.]\n\n[18\\2: Hasisatra's _Translation_: see the translation of the\nBabylonian account in Paul Haupt's _Der Keilins. Sintfluthber._\n(Leip. 1881), p. 17, 18. The expressions used by the Greek-writing\nreporters are exactly like those common in Greek accounts of\ntranslation: ~gene/sthai aphan\u00ea= {83} (to\\n Xi/southron) meta\\ t\u00f4=n\nthe\u00f4=n oik\u00ea/sonta~, Beros. ap. Sync., p. 55, 6, 11 Di.; ~theoi/ min\nex anthr\u00f4/p\u00f4n aphani/zousi~, Abydenus ap. Syncell., p. 70, 13. Of\nEnoch we read, Gen. 5^24: ~ouch heuri/sketo ho/ti mete/th\u00eaken auto\\n\nho theo/s (metete/th\u00ea~, Ecclus., 44^16; Hebr. 11^5); ~anel\u00ea/phth\u00ea\napo\\ t\u00ea=s g\u00ea=s~, Ecclus. 49^14; ~anech\u00f4/r\u00ease pro\\s to\\ thei=on~,\nJos., _AJ._ i, 3, 4 (of Moses: ~aphani/zetai~, Jos., _AJ._ iv, 8,\n48). On the translation of Enoch and Elijah, see also Schwally, _D.\nLeben. nach d. Tode n. d. Vorst. d. a. Israel_ (1892), p. 140.\nTranslation of the living into Sheol often in the O.T., see\nSchwally, p. 62. Even Enoch has not escaped the fate of being\nregarded by comparative mythologists as the sun. Enoch may be given\nup to them, if the Orientalists have no objection; but it seems a\npity that the theory, in accordance with the favourite argument from\nanalogy, should be applied to Greek Translation-myths too, so that\nwe should see the whole series of such figures, from Menelaos to\nApollonios of Tyana, transformed by magic into mythological suns (or\ndawns, water-meadows, thunder-clouds, etc.).]\n\n[19\\2: ~malthako\\s aichm\u00eat\u00ea/s~, ~R~ 588.]\n\n[20\\2: ~X~ 321-2.]\n\n[21\\2: One might even suspect that Menelaos is translated to\neverlasting life not merely because he has Helen, Zeus' daughter, to\nwife: ~hou/nek' e/cheis Hele/n\u00ean~ as Proteus tells him, but in\n_imitation_ of a much earlier mythical tradition, according to which\nHelen herself was translated and made immortal. No ancient tradition\nreports the _death_ of Helen--with the exception of the absurd\ninvention of Ptolemaios Chennos (Phot. _Bibl._, p. 149_a_, 37 Bk.;\n42; 149_b_, 1 ff.) and the not very superior aetiological myth in\nPaus. 3, 19, 10. On the other hand, we often hear of her\ndeification, living on the island Leuke or else in the Islands of\nthe Blest. It was not unnatural that mythological tradition should\nhave at an early period set free the most \"daemonic\" of women from\nthe usual fate of mankind and that Menelaos should rather have\nfollowed her example than she his (as Isoc. 10, 62, definitely\nsays).]\n\n[22\\2: Cf. Tylor, ii, 85: J. G. M\u00fcller, _Ges. d. Americ. Urrelig._,\n660 f.; Waitz, _Anthrop._ v, 2, 114; vi, 302, 307.]\n\n[23\\2: We are told that Rhadamanthys was once conveyed by the\nPhaeacians to Euboea ~epopso/menos Tituo\\n Gai\u00ea/\u00efon huio/n~ (~\u00ea~ 321\nff.). We have no grounds and no right to complete this story by\nsupposing that this was when Rh. already lived in Elysion. To regard\nthe Phaeacians as a sort of \"ferry-folk of the dead\" connected in\nsome way with Elysion is pure unsupported fancy.]\n\n[24\\2: The possessor of ~athanasi/a~ did not necessarily possess\nalso ~du/namin iso/theon~ (Isoc. 10, 61).]\n\n[25\\2: To identify ~Ortugi/\u00ea~, ~o~ 404, with Delos, and ~Suri/\u00ea~\nwith the island Syros as the older commentators and K. O. M\u00fcller,\n_Dorier_, i, 381 [? not in _E.T._], did, is impossible on account of\nthe addition of the words ~ho/thi tropai\\ \u00eaeli/oio~ alone. These\nshow that Syrie was far away in the fabulous west, the only possible\nplace for such a wonderland. It is evident that Ortygia is\noriginally a purely mythical spot, sacred to Artemis and no more\ncertainly fixed in one place than the Dionysian Nysa, and for that\nreason always to be found wherever the cult of Artemis was\nespecially popular, in Aetolia, Syracuse, Ephesos, or Delos. Delos\nis clearly distinguished from O. in _h. Ap._ 16, and only later\nidentified with O. (Delos being considered the older name, O.\nSchneider, _Nicandr._, p. 22, n.), when Artemis had been brought\ninto closer connexion with Apollo, and even then not invariably.\nThus in Homer Ortygia _never_ clearly = Delos.] {84}\n\n[26\\2: ~A/rtemis de\\ aut\u00ea\\n hexarpa/xasa eis Tau/rous metakomi/zei~\n(cf. the ~mete/th\u00eaken auto\\n ho theo/s~ of Enoch, Gen. 5^24) ~kai\\\natha/naton poiei=, e/laphon de\\ anti\\ t\u00ea=s ko/r\u00eas pari/st\u00easi t\u00f4=|\nb\u00f4m\u00f4=|~, Procl., _Chrest._ ap. Kinkel _Epic. Fr._, p. 19: [Apollod.]\n_Epit._ iii, 22. Wagn.]\n\n[27\\2: ~tou/t\u00f4| (t\u00f4=| Me/mnoni \u00ca\u00f4\\s para\\ Dio\\s ait\u00easame/n\u00ea\nathanasi/an di/d\u00f4si~ says Proclus with regrettable brevity (p. 33,\nKinkel).]\n\n[28\\2: It cannot be doubted (in spite of Meier, _Annali dell' Inst.\nArch._, 1883, p. 217 ff.) that the story given in ~P~ of Sarpedon's\ndeath and the carrying away of his body, even if it does not belong\nto the oldest part of the poem (which I cannot regard as certain),\nis nevertheless earlier than the _Aithiopis_ and was the model for\nits account of Memnon's death (cf. also Christ, _Chron. altgr.\nEpos._, p. 25). But why do Thanatos and Hypnos carry away the body\nof Sarpedon (instead of the usual ~thu/ella, a/ella, Ha/rpuia~, or\nthe winds, Q.S. ii, 550, in the case of Memnon)? Where these two are\nfound on Attic lekythoi as bearers of the corpse (Robert,\n_Thanatos_, 19) they were perhaps intended in some consolatory sense\nas in the grave inscriptions ~hu/pnos e/chei se, ma/kar . . . kai\\\nne/kus ouk ege/nou~. The Homeric poet, however, can hardly have\nmeant anything of the sort, but merely invents the indispensable\nsecond bearer to assist Thanatos--an effective touch but not one\nthat rested on any religious grounds. Hypnos as brother of Thanatos\nis also found in the ~Dio\\s apa/t\u00ea~, ~X~ 231.]\n\n[29\\2: ~ek t\u00ea=s pura=s h\u00ea The/tis anarpa/sasa to\\n pai=da eis t\u00ea\\n\nLeuk\u00ea\\n n\u00ea=son diakomi/zei~, Procl., _Chrest._, p. 34, Kink. Then he\ncontinues, ~hoi de\\ Achaioi\\ to\\n _ta/phon_ ch\u00f4/santes ag\u00f4=na\ntithe/asin~. Thus a grave-mound is set up though the body of\nAchilles has been translated: evidently a concession to the older\nnarrative (~\u00f4~ 80-4), which knew nothing of the translation of the\nbody but gives prominence to the grave-mound. Besides which, the\ntumulus of Achilles--a landmark on the seashore of the\nTroad--required explanation, and the poet accordingly speaks of the\nerection of a cenotaph. It was not considered a contradiction to\nerect cenotaphs, not only to those whose bodies were irrecoverable\n(see above, Ch. I, n. 88), but also to Heroes whose bodies had been\ntranslated. Thus Herakles, after he has been struck by lightning and\nsnatched up into the sky, has a ~ch\u00f4=ma~ made for him, though no\nbones were found upon the ~pura/~, D.S. 4, 38, 5; 39, 1. (The tumuli\nfound in the Troad were not, indeed, originally empty as Schliemann,\n_Troy, etc._, pp. 252, 263, supposed; they were not cenotaphs but\nmerely grave-mounds that had once been filled and belong to a type\nfrequently met with in Phrygia; see Schuchhardt, _Schliemann's\nExcav._ [E.T.], p. 84 ff. Kretschmer, _Einl. Ges. gr. Spr._, 1896,\np. 176.)]\n\n[30\\2: What became of Odysseus? Proclus is silent on the point, and\nwe have no means of guessing. According to Hyginus 127 he was buried\nin Aiaia; but if nothing more was going to be done with his body why\nbring him to Aiaia? Acc. to Sch. Lyc., 805, he was raised to life\nagain by Kirke, but what happened to him then? (Acc. to [Apollod.]\n_Epit._ vii, 37 W., the dead Odysseus seems to remain in Ithaka.--We\nhave no grounds for altering the words to suit the Telegoneia as\nWagner does, esp. as a complete correspondence with that poem cannot\nbe obtained.) The death and burial of Od. among the Tyrrhenians\n(M\u00fcller, _Etruscans_ iii, 281 tr. Gray) belong to quite another\nconnexion.]\n\n[31\\2: The _Aithiopis_ is later than the Hades scenes in ~\u00f4~, and\nconsequently later still than the Nekyia of ~l~. The prophecy of the\nTranslation of Menelaos in ~d~ is likewise later than the Nekyia but\nto all appearance older than the _Aithiopis_.] {85}\n\n[32\\2: The extract from the Nostoi in Proclus, _Chrest._, is\nparticularly inadequate and evidently gives no full idea of the very\nwide and various subject matter of that poem. Thus, too, the notices\nof it preserved from other sources give details of its subject\nmatter (esp. of the Nekyia which was included in it) that cannot be\nfitted into the limits of Proclus' outline.]\n\n[33\\2: The idea that the Bronze age is really identical with the age\nof Heroes is at first sight attractive (see e.g. Steitz, _Die W. u.\nT. des Hesiod_, p. 61); one soon finds, however, that it breaks down\non closer examination.]\n\n[34\\2: It does not seem to me absolutely necessary to strike out\nlines 124 f. (~hoi/ rha phula/ssousi/n te di/kas kai\\ sche/tlia\ne/rga, \u00eae/ra hessa/menoi pa/nt\u00ea phoit\u00f4=ntes ep' ai=an~). They are\nrepeated in lines 254 f., but that is a natural place to repeat\nthem. Proclus does not comment on them; but it does not follow that\nhe did not have them before him; and Plutarch, _D.O._ 37, p. 431 B,\nseems to allude to l. 125 in its present context.]\n\n[35\\2: Plu., _D.O._, 10, p. 415 B, in obvious error, takes Hesiod's\n~dai/mones~ for such an intermediate class of beings; he supposes\nthat Hesiod distinguishes four classes ~t\u00f4=n logik\u00f4=n, theoi/,\ndai/mones, h\u00ea/r\u00f4es, a/nthr\u00f4poi~. In this Platonist division the\n~h\u00ea/r\u00f4es~ would correspond rather with Hesiod's ~dai/mones~ of the\nfirst age. (What Proclus has to say on Hesiod, _Op._ 121, p. 101,\nGaisf., is taken evidently word for word from Plutarch's commentary\non Hesiod and resembles closely the remarks in the passage cited\nfrom the _Def. Orac._) Modern critics have often failed to notice\nthe difference between the Hesiodic ~dai/mones~ and the Platonic.\nPlato himself is very decided about the difference (_Crat._ 397\nE-398 C).]\n\n[36\\2: ~\u00eae/ra hessa/menoi~ 125 (cf. 223; ~X~ 282) is a naive\nequivalent for \"invisible\" as Tzet. correctly explains. This is how\nit is to be understood regularly in Homer whenever there is mention\nof envelopment in a cloud and the like.]\n\n[37\\2: These daimones are called ~epichtho/nioi~ in contrast (not to\nthe ~hupochtho/nioi~ of l. 141, but) to the ~theoi\\ epoura/nioi~, as\nProclus on l. 122 rightly remarks. Thus in Homer we have\n~epichtho/nioi~ regularly used as an adjective, or, standing alone,\nas an equivalent of men as distinguished from gods. Then the\n~hupochtho/nioi~ of 141 are brought in to form another and secondary\ncontrast with the ~epichtho/nioi~.]\n\n[38\\2: ~r~ 485 ff. It follows that the descriptions of the visits\npaid by gods to the homes of men are of great antiquity; cf. my\n_Griech. Roman_, p. 506 ff. Zeus Philios in particular is fond of\nvisiting men: Diod. Com. ~Epi/kl\u00ear.~, Mein. _Com._ iii, p. 543 f.\n(ii, p. 420 K.).]\n\n[39\\2: ~tim\u00ea\\ kai\\ toi=sin op\u00eadei=~ 142. ~tim\u00ea/~ in the sense not of\nsimple honour but of practical worship, as frequently in Homer, e.g.\nin such phrases as: ~tim\u00ea\\ kai\\ ku=dos op\u00eadei=~, ~R~ 251; ~tim\u00ea=s\napon\u00ea/menos~, ~\u00f4~ 30: ~tim\u00ea\\n de\\ lelo/gchasin i=sa theoi=sin~, ~l~\n304; ~e/chei tim\u00ea/n~, ~l~ 495, etc. In the same way here, l. 138:\n~hou/neka tima\\s ouk edi/doun maka/ressi theoi=s~.]\n\n[40\\2: Light and dark, i.e. good and bad, ~dai/mones~ are acc. to\nRoth, _Myth. v. d. Weltaltern_ (1860), pp. 16-17, distinguished in\nHesiod's daimones of the golden and silver age. Such a distinction,\nhowever, never appears in Hesiod; and it is hardly credible that the\ngods and spirits of ancient Greek popular belief (which never really\nadmitted the categories good and bad) should in this primitive\nperiod have been actually classified in accordance with such\ncategories. At any rate, Greek readers never found anything of the\nkind expressed in Hesiod: {86} the conception of bad daimones is\nregularly supported by reference to the philosophers alone (e.g.\nPlut., _D.O._, 17, p. 419 A, and the conception is certainly no\nolder than the earliest philosophic speculation.]\n\n[41\\2: l. 141: ~toi\\ me\\n hupochtho/nioi (epichtho/nioi~ all MSS.\nexcept one, see K\u00f6chly's Apparatus; also Tz.) ~ma/kares thn\u00eatoi\\\nkale/ontai.--phu/lakes thn\u00eatoi\\~ was read and explained by Proclus.\nThis is clearly wrong, and is corrected to ~phu/lakes thn\u00eat\u00f4=n~ (as\nin l. 123) by Hagen and Welcker. But this transfers from the first\nto the second race an expression that we cannot be sure Hesiod meant\nto be transferred. Not merely the words but the sense, too, is thus\ncorrected, without due ground. ~ma/kares~ does not look like a\ncorruption; it is more likely that ~phu/lakes~ is an accidental\nalteration. ~hup. ma/kares thn\u00eatoi=s kale/ontai~ is the reading of\nthe latest editor: but here to say the least of it the addition of\n~thn\u00eatoi=s~ is superfluous. We should rather try to understand and\nexplain the traditional text and show how the poet came by the\nremarkable expression.]\n\n[42\\2: When philosophers and philosophizing poets of a later age\noccasionally refer to the soul when freed from the body as a\n~dai/m\u00f4n~, the expression has a totally different sense.]\n\n[43\\2: Similarly, though the oxymoron is much less daring in his\ncase, Isocrates, 9, 72, has ~dai/m\u00f4n thn\u00eato/s~. In order to describe\na daimon who has originally been a mortal later ages boldly invented\nthe compound ~anthr\u00f4podai/m\u00f4n~ which corresponds fairly well with\nthe Hesiodic ~ma/kar thn\u00eato/s~: [Eur.] _Rhes._, 971; Procop., _An._\n12, p. 79, 17 D. (~nekudai/m\u00f4n~ on a _defixio_ from Carthage, _BCH._\nxii, 299). Later still a king destined to become a god is called,\neven at his birth, by Manetho (i, 280) ~_theo\\n broto\\n_\nanthr\u00f4/poisin~.]\n\n[44\\2: The silver race was created by the gods of Olympos, like the\ngolden before them (l. 110; 128); only the third race (l. 143) and\nthen the fourth (158) by Zeus alone. It might be supposed from this\nthat the silver age as well as the golden age occurred in the period\nbefore Zeus' rule, ~epi\\ Kro/nou ho/t' ouran\u00f4=| embasi/leuen~ (l.\n111); and in this sense \"Orpheus\" understood the words of Hesiod\nwhen he ~tou= argurou= ge/nous basileu/ein ph\u00easi\\ to\\n Kro/non~\n(Proclus on l. 126). But it would be very difficult to reconcile l.\n138 ~Zeu\\s Kroni/d\u00eas ktl.~ with this view. Hesiod may then have\nplaced the silver age in the time when sub Iove mundus erat (as Ovid\nexplicitly states, _M._ i, 113 f.); but all the same it lay for him\nin the far distant past before all history.]\n\n[45\\2: ~n\u00f4/numnoi~ 154 may quite as well mean \"nameless\", i.e.\nwithout name or special title, as \"fameless\" (as it does for the\nmost part though not invariably in Homer).]\n\n[46\\2: See Welcker, _Kl. Schr._ ii, 6, who, however, in the desire\nto rule out all possibility of identifying Scherie with Korkyra\nasserts too positively that it was a part of the mainland. ~z~ 204\n(compared with ~d~ 354) at least comes very close to regarding it as\nan island. But it is clear that nowhere is it explicitly called an\nisland.--It is possible that ~Scheri/\u00ea~, connected with ~schero/s~,\nmay really mean \"mainland\" (Welcker, loc. cit.; Kretschmer, _Einl.\nGesch. gr. Spr._, 281): but the question still remains whether the\nHomeric poet, who did not invent the name, understood or respected\nits original significance. At any rate, it was no longer understood\nby those who in very early times identified Scherie with the island\nKorkyra.]\n\n[47\\2: The objections to l. 169 as regards its form are brought out\nby Steitz, _Hesiods W. u. T._, p. 69. The line is missing in most of\nthe MSS.; it was rejected (together with the line following, which,\nhowever, {87} is quite sound) by ancient critics (Proclus on l.\n158). Later editors are united in condemning it. But the\ninterpolation is at any rate old: probably even Pindar already knew\nthe line in this place (_O._ ii, 70).]\n\n[48\\2: ~lu=se de\\ Zeu\\s a/phthitos Tita=nas~ Pi. (_P._ iv, 291), in\nwhose time, however, this was a well-known myth to which he is only\nmaking a passing allusion for the sake of an example. The Hesiodic\nTheogony still knows nothing of it.]\n\n[49\\2: Before Hesiod we have no mention of the myth of a Golden,\nSaturnian Age, nor any complete description of the imaginary life\nupon Blessed Islands. But epic poetry had already, as we have seen,\nprovided him with occasional examples of translation to a place of\nblessedness, and he only collects these into a combined picture of\nsuch a place. To that extent the belief in a blessed life beyond the\ngrave meets us earlier than the myth of a Golden Age. But we have\nnot the slightest ground for saying that the former \"must have\nexisted from the beginning among the Greeks\" (as Milchh\u00f6fer at least\nthinks, _Anf. Kunst_, p. 230). On the other hand, it may be mere\naccident that the myth of the Golden Age has no older authority than\nHesiod--the story itself _may_ be much earlier. After Hesiod it was\nfrequently taken up and improved upon; not, however, first by\nEmpedocles as Graf supposes, _ad aure\u00e6 aet. fab. sym._ (_Leip.\nStud._ viii, p. 15), but already in the epic ~Alkme\u00f4ni/s~, see\nPhilod. _Piet._, p. 51 Gp. (See also some remarks by Alfred Nutt,\n_The Voyage of Bran_, p. 269 f., 1895, with which I cannot agree.)]\n\n\n{{88}}\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nCAVE DEITIES: SUBTERRANEAN TRANSLATION\n\nThe history of Greek culture and religion shows no sudden break or\nrevolution in its course. The Greeks neither at any time experienced\na movement from within that caused a violent recoil from the path\nwhich they had chosen, nor were they ever diverted by the\noverwhelming might of an invading force from the natural course of\ntheir evolution. Out of their own natural feelings and reflexion\nthis most intellectually gifted nation evolved the great ideas that\nnourished succeeding centuries. They anticipated all later ages. The\nprofoundest and the boldest, the most devout as well as the most\nirreverent speculations as to the nature of God, the world and men\nhave their origin among the Greeks. But this excessive\nmany-sidedness led to a general condition of equipoise in which\nindividual factors restrained or balanced each other. Whereas the\nmost violent impacts and sudden revolutions in the history of\ncivilization are given by just those nations who are only able to\nembrace one idea at a time and who, confined in the narrow limits of\ntheir fanaticism, throw everything else overboard.\n\nIt is true, indeed, that the Greeks were ever open to\ninfluences--whether civilized or the reverse--from abroad. In wave\nafter wave of peaceful invasion foreign ideas and ways of life,\nespecially from the East, flowed over Greece. In one case, at least\n(that of the ecstatic religion of the Thracian\nDionysos-worshippers), a spring flood burst out that broke down all\nthe dykes. In many cases the invading elements might be easily\neliminated again from Greek culture; in many others they obtained a\npermanent footing and influenced it deeply. But never did an\ninfluence from abroad obtain in Greece an authority at all\ncomparable to the subversive and transforming power exercised by\nBuddhism, Christianity, or Islam over the peoples on whom they laid\ntheir grip. The Greek genius, as supple as it was tenacious,\nmaintained control over all such foreign influences, in full\npossession of its original nature, its genial **naivety. New ideas,\nwhether introduced from abroad or engendered at home, were taken up\nand assimilated, but the old were not done away with; they gradually\namalgamated with the new so that much was learnt while nothing was\nquite forgotten. The stream flowed on in its peaceful course, but it\nstill remained the same stream. _Nec manet ut fuerat nec formas\nservat easdem: sed tamen ipse idem est_. {89}\n\nThe history of Greek culture, then, has no sharply contrasted\nepochs, no periods of abrupt change, when the old is completely\ngiven up and a new era definitely begins. Indeed, the most serious\nrevulsions of Greek history, culture, and religion took place beyond\ndoubt _before_ the time of the Homeric Epos, and in that dim past it\nis possible that more violent and startling upheavals may have\noccurred to make the Greeks what we afterwards know them to be.\nGreek life becomes first clearly known to us in Homer. It is true\nthat the broad uniformity that it has in the picture reflected for\nus in the poems of Homer vanishes in the course of the years that\nfollow. New forces emerge; much that was forgotten comes to light\nagain now that the Homeric system of ideas, once all powerful, is\nfalling to pieces; out of the very old and the quite new things of\nwhich Homer never gives the least hint are being put together. But\nnowhere during the violent movements of the next troubled centuries\nafter Homer did any absolute break with the Epic or its system take\nplace. Only in the sixth century did the defiant speculation of a\nfew bold spirits begin to seek a way of escape from the thraldom of\nthe Homeric poems which still lay over the whole of Greece. The\nhistory of the Greek common people knows nothing of a reaction\nagainst Homer and his world. Homeric religion and moral ideas\ngradually ceased to reign supreme in men's minds, but they were\nnever violently or completely discarded.\n\nSo we, too, though we leave behind us Homer and the Epos and enter\nupon the tortuous paths of the later history of Greek soul worship\nand belief in immortality, may still for a time be guided by the\nAriadne thread of the epic. In our subject, too, there are links\nwhich connect the Homeric with following ages. Soon enough the\nthread will break, and we shall have to enter the new field of\ninquiry depending on our own resources. . . .\n\n\u00a7 1\n\nProminent among the chieftains, who, under the leadership of\nAdrastos, came to the help of Polyneikes and laid siege to Thebes,\nwas Amphiaraos the Argive hero and seer descended from the\nmysterious priest and prophet Melampous. He was drawn into the war\nagainst his will, for he foresaw its unhappy end. After the decisive\nstruggle in which the opposing brothers fell slain by each other's\nhand, the Argive host turned to flight, and with them fled\nAmphiaraos. But before Periklymenos, who was pursuing him, could\ndrive his spear into the fugitive's back, Zeus made the earth open\nbefore him in a flash of {90} lightning and Amphiaraos with his\nhorses, his chariot, and his charioteer, was swallowed up in the\ndepths where Zeus made him _immortal_. So runs the legend of the\nfate of Amphiaraos as we learn it from innumerable sources from\nPindar onwards,[1\\3] and we may be sure that thus it was told in the\nTheba\u00efs, the old epic poem of the war of the Seven against Thebes,\nwhich was taken up into the Epic Cycle.[2\\3]\n\nAt Thebes, then, Amphiaraos lived on for ever under the earth.\nNorthwards in the Boeotian countryside, near Lebadeia, men told of a\nsimilar marvel. In a cave of the mountainous ravine, before which\nLebadeia lies, lived Trophonios for ever immortal. The legends that\nprofessed to explain his miraculous cave-existence do not quite\nagree among themselves, as, indeed, is generally the case with those\nfigures who were not early taken up by the poets and given a fixed\nplace in the narratives of heroic adventure. But all accounts (the\noldest of which perhaps go back to the \"Telegoneia\") agree in the\nassumption that Trophonios, like Amphiaraos, was first a _man_, a\nfamous master-builder, who while flying from his foes, had dived\nunderground at Lebadeia and now lives for ever in the depths of the\nearth whence he foretells the future to those who come and question\nhim there.\n\nThese stories, then, claim to speak of men who during their lifetime\nwere swallowed up by the earth, and who now live on for ever at the\nplaces where they were taken down into the depths--places situated\nin quite definite localities of the Greek countryside.\n\nWe are not entirely without other legends of a similar character.\nOne of the wild spirits of the Lapith people from Thessalia, Kaineus\nby name, having been made invulnerable by Poseidon (who had before\nthis transformed him from a woman into a man), was cudgelled with\ntree-trunks in a battle with the Centaurs; but they could do nothing\nto him, and with \"upright foot\" (i.e. standing upright, alive, not\nlying at full length like a dead man or one mortally wounded) he\nclove the earth under him and went down alive into the depths.[3\\3]\nIn Rhodes Althaimenes was honoured as the \"founder\" of the Greek\ncities on that island; he had not died but had vanished into a chasm\nin the ground.[4\\3] Like Amphiaraos, his son Amphilochos, the heir\nof his prophetic power, appears to have had a legend according to\nwhich he still dwelt alive under the earth either in Akarnania or\nCilicia.[5\\3] A few more examples of the same type might be\nproduced,[6\\3] but the number of such stories remains small, and\nthey only make their appearance here and there, as if by {91}\naccident, in the tradition. Epic poetry without whose co-operation\nsuch local legends rarely achieved widespread or lasting popularity,\nwith few exceptions left such narratives out of account. In fact,\nthey conflicted with the normal Homeric outlook. The belief,\nhowever, that immortality when it was miraculously bestowed by the\nfavour of heaven upon certain individual men, was absolutely\nconditioned by the non-occurrence of death, i.e. the separation of\nthe psyche from the visible man--this belief has helped to shape\nthese stories too. They never speak of an undying existence of the\nsoul by itself in separation from the body. Thus far they are firmly\nrooted in orthodox Homeric belief.\n\nBut the heroes of these stories have their everlasting existence in\nspecial abodes under the surface of the earth, in subterranean\nchambers[7\\3]--not in the common meeting place of the departed; they\neach have their own peculiar domain far from the House of A\u00efdoneus.\nSuch isolation of individuals below the earth does not agree with\nHomeric ideas; though it almost seems as if a dim echo of these\nstories of seers like Amphiaraos and Amphilochos, translated alive\nand with consciousness undestroyed, could be discerned in what the\nHomeric Nekyia says of Teiresias the Theban seer, in whom alone of\nall the shadows Persephone had allowed consciousness and\nintelligence (the essential vital powers) to remain\nundiminished.[8\\3] But even he is fast bound in Erebos, the general\nhome of the dead, and cut off from all connexion with the upper\nworld, as is demanded by the Homeric view of the world. Amphiaraos\nand Trophonios, on the other hand, are released from Hades; not\nhaving suffered death they have not entered the world of the\nstrengthless dead. They are also translated out of this life\n(besides out of Hades). But this \"subterranean translation\" is in\nits nature and in the origin of the belief in it quite distinct from\nthat \"translation to Islands of the Blest\" of which we spoke in the\nlast chapter. Those Heroes dwelling alone or in company on holy\nislands far out over the sea are far removed from human life and\nbeyond the reach of prayers and desires. No influence upon the\nthings of this world is attributed to them, and consequently no cult\nis offered to them: there never existed a cult of the dwellers in\nElysium _as such_. They glimmer in the distance like visions of the\npoet's fancy from which no one anticipates active interference with\nthe world of reality. It is quite different with these dwellers in\nthe caves. They are actually alive under the surface of the earth;\nnot far away in the inaccessible, spectral world of Hades, but here\nin the midst of Greece. Questions and prayers {92} can reach down to\nthem, and they can send up aid to those who call to them. To them,\naccordingly, as powerful and effectual Spirits a _cult_ is paid.\n\nWe have detailed information of the manner in which Amphiaraos was\nworshipped, more especially in later times, when, in addition to the\nneighbourhood of Thebes, where the original legend of his descent\nbeneath the earth was localized, Oropos also, the boundary town\nbetween Boeotia and Attica, was with overwhelming success identified\nas the place of his disappearance and made a centre of his\ninfluence.[9\\3] We have also a certain amount of information, again\nfrom later ages, about the cult of Trophonios. With the passage of\ntime, the details of the worship grew and multiplied, but among them\nall certain features stand out as especially characteristic and\nallow us to understand the religious ideas lying behind them. To\nAmphiaraos and Trophonios were offered just those sacrifices which\nwere also paid to the Chthonic deities, i.e. those deities who dwelt\nin the depths of the earth.[10\\3] Aid was not expected from them in\nthe details of the daily life of individuals or states. Only in the\nactual locality of their descent were they effectual, and only there\nbecause they revealed the future. Kroisos had already, and Mardonios\nafter him, sent inquiries to the most famous oracles of the\nday,[11\\3] and among them to Amphiaraos at his ancient oracular seat\nnear Thebes and to Trophonios at Lebadeia. Of Amphiaraos it was\nbelieved that he revealed the future by visions sent in dreams to\nthose who after making offering laid themselves down to sleep in his\ntemple. To question Trophonios, it was necessary to pass through a\nnarrow passage into his cave. Inside, the inquirer expected to see\nTrophonios in person or, at least, to hear his instructions.[12\\3]\nHe dwelt, like a spirit confined to the scene of his magical\nexistence, in bodily person at the bottom of his cave. In fact, the\nmethod of _Incubation_, or temple-sleep, by which Amphiaraos (like\nmany other daimones and Heroes) was questioned, was based on the\nassumption that the daimon, who was only visible indeed to mortal\neyes in the higher state achieved by the soul in dreams, had his\npermanent dwelling at the seat of his oracle.[13\\3] That is why his\nappearance can only be expected at this particular place and nowhere\nelse. Originally, too, it was only the dwellers in the depths of the\nearth who were thus visible in dreams to those who lay down to sleep\nin the temple over the place where they had their subterranean\nabode. Homer knows nothing of either gods or daimones who live\npermanently under the ground in definite places in the inhabited\nworld, near mankind; and for that {93} reason he betrays no\nknowledge of _Incubation-oracles_.[14\\3] There is some ground for\nthe belief that this method, inherent in the divinatory power, of\ngetting into touch with the spirit world, was one of the oldest\ntypes of Greek oracular art--certainly not later than the Apolline\n_mantik\u00ea_ of inspiration. And it is precisely in the legend of\nAmphiaraos, as we may believe it to have been related as early as\nthe cyclic poem of the Theba\u00efs, that we have a proof that already in\nthe days when the quasi-Homeric poetry was still popular, people\nbelieved in deathless dwellers below the earth and in their active\npotency in the mantic art.\n\nIt is clear, then, that the worship of Amphiaraos and the belief in\nhis subterranean existence was not due to the influence of the Epic.\nRather the reverse was the case; the cult already existed and\nprovided the idea of the daimon and this gave rise to the Epic\nnarrative. The Epic found an existing cult of an oracular daimon who\ndwelt beneath the earth near Thebes ready to its hand. It reduced\nthis fact to a form which it could understand in a manner typical of\nthe relation which frequently existed between the facts of religious\nlife and Epic poetry. The cult was connected with an event in\nlegendary history, and so brought into harmony with the Epic\noutlook. The Epic knew nothing of gods attached in this way to a\n**particular earthly spot, and so the spirit worshipped in the cult\nbecame in the epic imagination a chieftain and Seer who had not\nalways lived beneath the earth in that place, but had only been\ntransported there subsequently by a miraculous fiat of the supreme\ngod, who had also accorded an eternal life in the depths to the\ntranslated hero.[15\\3]\n\nWe may perhaps find a parallel in more recent Saga story that will\nthrow light on the question. German mythology is perfectly familiar\nwith such figures for ever, or until the day of judgment, alive in\ncaverns of the mountains or subterranean chambers. Thus,\nCharlemagne, or it may be Charles the Fifth, still has his abode in\nOdenberg or in Unterberg, near Salzburg, Frederick II (or, in more\nrecent versions of the legend, Frederick I Barbarossa in Kyffh\u00e4user,\nHenry the Fowler in Sudemerberg, near Goslar. Thus, too, King\nArthur, Holger Danske, and many other favourite characters of\npopular tradition dwell in subterranean caverns.[16\\3] Occasionally,\nwe can still plainly see how these were originally ancient _gods_\nwho according to pagan belief dwelt in hollow mountains and whose\nplace has been taken by these heroes and holy men \"translated\"\nbeneath the earth.[17\\3] So, too, Greek tradition allows us to see\neven now that those ancient {94} translated mortals, Amphiaraos and\nTrophonios, are only Epic substitutes for ancient deities who did\nnot owe their everlasting life and subterranean abode to the favour\nof heaven, but had possessed these from the beginning. At least, at\nthe site of his worship men knew that the prophetic dweller in the\ncave was a _god_; one of them is called Zeus Trophonios or\nTrephonios, not only by learned authorities, but in inscriptions\nfrom Lebadeia;[18\\3] Amphiaraos, too, is once called Zeus Amphiaraos\nand more often a god.[19\\3] In the Translation legends of\nChristianized people the kings have usurped the place of the ancient\ngods because the gods themselves, fallen into neglect, have been\ndethroned. For reasons not so very different from these the ancient\ngods on Greek soil were turned into heroes.\n\nSurrounded by the unending multiplicity of contemporary notions of\ndivinity the imagination of the Epic poet had fashioned for itself a\ngeneralized picture of a divine kingdom. This was at that time a\nsolitary attempt to erect a Panhellenic theological system, but it\nhad the greatest influence upon the mental conceptions of Greeks of\nevery race, for the Epic poet addressed them all. He stood as though\non a height looking down on all the narrow valleys and mountainous\ncountrysides cut off from the rest of the world, and a wide prospect\nopened out before his eyes. He **soars above all the innumerable\ncontradictory and conflicting details of local cult and belief, and\nfinds something universal beyond. The name and conception of Zeus,\nApollo, Hermes, Athena, and all the gods represented innumerable\ndiversities in the myths and ritual of the different cities and\nraces; their outward shapes and personalities differed widely\naccording to their localization and the manner of their influence.\nInstead of all these the Epic poet sees only one Zeus, Apollo, etc.,\nreduced in each case to a single unified personality. And just as he\nhad looked beyond the multiplicity of local deities so he did not\nconfine his gods to particular local habitations and centres of\ninfluence in the Greek countries; they did not belong to one\nlocality more than another. True they worked and ruled in the world,\nbut they were for all that free to move where they would. They dwell\nand meet together on the heights of Olympos, the Pierian Holy\nMountain, which, however, became in the imagination of Homer,\nunfettered by attachment to any particular place, more and more an\nideal mountain of fancy. So the broad sea is the dwelling-place of\nPoseidon; he is not confined to any one place. Even the rulers of\nthe spirit world. A\u00efdes and Persephoneia, have their abode, not,\nindeed, on {95} Olympos, and certainly not here or there beneath the\nsurface of the Greek countryside, but far away in a land of fancy;\nthey, too, are not bound to any particular locality of the actual\nworld. At the end of this enormous work of unification and\nidealization, that, out of all the infinite special manifestations\nof the name Zeus, each worshipped only in its narrow little circle\nin Greece, had evolved the single almighty figure of Zeus Father of\nGods and Men--how could one who had imagined all this be able to\nunderstand, if he met with such a creature, a special Zeus, calling\nhimself Zeus Trophonios, who passed his undying existence in a cave\nnear Lebadeia and was only powerful in that one spot?\n\nOf course, the inhabitant of such a holy spot would not allow\nhimself to be deprived of the belief in the existence and presence\nof the god on his native soil. Though he might be ready enough in\ngeneral and in respect of other men's local deities to regulate\nconceptions of the nature of the gods in accordance with the Homeric\npicture, yet he refused absolutely to be shaken in his belief in his\nown local deity, however unknown to the Olympian family of gods in\nHomer that deity might be. The local worship in its unaltered,\nundisturbed persistence, witnessed to the objective truth of his\nbelief. Thus there were preserved in the pious faith of their\nworshippers large numbers of local deities whose circle of influence\nwas, however, very limited. They had not been raised with the other\ngods to the heights of Olympos, but had remained faithful to the\nsoil in which they had their home,[20\\3] witnesses to a far distant\npast in which the members of every remote little community had their\nseparate god bound to the soil beyond which their thoughts did not\nstray. We shall see how in post-Homeric times many such ancient\nearth-gods, i.e. gods thought of as living below the surface of the\nground, were given new and in some cases a more wide-reaching lease\nof life. The Epic in its prime knew nothing of these earth-dwelling\ndeities. When it could not close its eyes to their existence it\nchanged them into translated heroes, and beyond the immediate\nlocality of the cult this version of them became the commonly\naccepted one throughout the rest of Greece.\n\n\u00a7 2\n\nBut the Epic was by no means uniform in intention, or carried\nthrough as a systematic unity; it was far from being the offspring\nof a learned reflection that could tolerate no discrepancy. Even\nhere we find at least some few dim {96} recollections of the ancient\nbelief in gods that can have their permanent abode in mountain\nhollows.\n\nThe Odyssey (xix, 178 f.) calls Minos, the son of Zeus (cf. _Il._\nxiii, 450; xiv, 322; _Od._ xi, 568) who ruled in Knossos the Cretan\ncity, \"the familiar gossip of great Zeus.\"[21\\3] Very probably the\npoet meant by these words much the same as was understood by them in\nlater times: that Minos was personally acquainted with Zeus, on\nearth, of course, and, in fact, in the cave--not far from Knossos on\nthe side of Mount Ida--which was revered as the \"Cave of\nZeus\".[22\\3] The island of Crete, overrun by the Greeks at an early\nperiod, still preserved in its remote seclusion much that was\nprimeval in belief and legend. There, sometimes on Mount Ida,\nsometimes on Mount Dicte (in the east of the island) the holy cave\nwas pointed out where (already in Hesiod) Zeus was said to have been\nborn.[23\\3] According to a local legend, which probably was present\nto the fancy of the writer of these lines of the Odyssey, the god\nnow fully grown up still dwelt in his subterranean chamber, and was\nvisited by individual mortals. As Minos before him, so, too,\nEpimenides had been allowed to hear the prophecies of the god.[24\\3]\nThe Zeus that dwelt in Ida was worshipped in a mystical cult;[25\\3]\nevery year a \"throne\" was \"spread\" for him, i.e. probably a \"divine\nbanquet\" (Theoxenion) was prepared for his consumption, as for other\nespecially Chthonic deities. The initiated then entered the cave\ndressed in black woollen garments, and remained within for thrice\nnine days.[26\\3] Everything points to the existence of conceptions\nsimilar to those that we found expressed in the cult of Zeus\nTrophonios at Lebadeia. Zeus dwelling in bodily form in the depths\nof his cave can appear in person to those who enter his cave duly\nsanctified.\n\nThen there appears, from the fourth century onwards, the strange\nstatement, perhaps started by Euhemeros and eagerly taken up in\nlater ages by scoffers like Lucian or Christian opponents of the old\nreligion, that Zeus lay _buried_ on Ida.[27\\3] What is here called\nthe _grave_ of the god is nothing in reality but the _cave_ which\nwas generally regarded as his permanent abode.[28\\3] The\nidea--always strange to the Greeks[29\\3]--that a god could lie\nburied anywhere on the earth, deprived of life for ever or even for\na limited period of time, is often met with in the tradition of\nSemitic and other non-Greek peoples.[30\\3] We need not inquire what\ndeeper or perhaps allegorical sense such legends may have had in the\nbeliefs of those nations; there is no reason to suppose that such\nforeign legends had any influence in the formation of Greek myth.\nNor does the {97} tradition in Greek lands give the slightest\nsupport to the view current among modern mythologists that the death\nand burial of gods is intended to symbolize the \"death of Nature\".\nIt is, in fact, plain that in the legend of the Cretan Zeus' grave,\nthe \"grave\" has simply taken the place of the cave as the\neverlasting abode of the undying god, and that it is a paradoxical\nexpression intended to signify his perpetual confinement to that\nplace. We are immediately reminded of a no less paradoxical notice\nof a god's grave at Delphi. Under the navel stone (Omphalos) of the\nEarth-goddess (which was a vaulted piece of masonry in the Temple of\nApollo recalling in its shape the ancient vaulted tombs),[31\\3]\nthere lay buried a divine being. Our learned authorities call this\nbeing Python, the enemy of Apollo; one and only one quite\nuntrustworthy witness says it was Dionysos.[32\\3] Here we have a\ncase of one god setting up his temple and abode over the grave of\nanother god. Apollo, the god of prophecy, thrones it over the\nEarth-spirit Python, the son of the Earth-goddess Gaia. Now, we have\nancient and in the highest degree trustworthy traditions to the\neffect that there was originally at Delphi an ancient Earth-Oracle\ninto whose place Apollo and his mantic art came later as an\nintruder. We are therefore justified in believing that this\ncircumstance in the history of religion has found expression in the\nlegend that Apollo's temple and oracular seat stood over the place\nwhere an ancient and superseded oracle-daimon lay \"buried\".[33\\3] In\nthe days when the primeval Earth-Oracle was still powerful its\nguardian would not lie dead and buried under the Omphalos of the\nEarth-goddess, but would have dwelt there alive underground, like\nAmphiaraos or Trophonios or Zeus on Ida.\n\n\u00a7 3\n\nThe \"grave\" under the Omphalos means in the case of Python the\noverthrow of an earth-dwelling Chthonic Daimon by the cult of\nApollo. The \"grave\" of Zeus, which had thrust itself into the place\nof an older legend of the dwelling of Zeus in the cave of the\nmountain, expresses the same idea as this legend, but expresses it\nin a form current in later ages which knew of many \"Heroes\" who\nafter their death and from their graves gave proof of a higher\nexistence and a powerful influence. The Zeus that died and is buried\nis only a god reduced to a Hero;[34\\3] remarkable and paradoxical is\nonly the fact that unlike Zeus Amphiaraos, Zeus Trophonios (and Zeus\nAsklepios), he has not, in the usual fashion, dropped his title of\ngod, which directly contradicted his \"Hero\" {98} nature. It is\npossible that in the case of this cave-Zeus, half-god half-Hero, a\nconception has been transferred merely on analogy from other cases\nwhere it was applied more properly, after they had become fully\n\"Heroized\", to gods who according to the no longer intelligible\ntheory had once been dwellers in the depths of the earth.\n\nWe have several accounts of Heroes who were buried in temples of\ngods and were sometimes associated with the cult of the higher god\nto whom the temple was dedicated. The way in which such legends\ncould arise may be seen unusually clearly from the case of\n_Erechtheus_.\n\nThe Ship-Catalogue in the Iliad (ii, 546 ff.) tells us that\nErechtheus was the son of the Earth, but that Athene brought him up\nand \"settled him in her rich temple\",[35\\3] where the Athenians\nevery year honour him with sacrifice of sheep and bulls.[36\\3] It is\nplain that Erechtheus is here thought of as still living; to honour\na dead man with such offerings, repeated every year and attended by\nthe whole community, would be a custom quite unknown to Homer.\nErechtheus is, therefore, thought of as dwelling alive in the temple\nin which Athene has set him down, i.e. the ancient temple on the\nAcropolis which was enclosed in the \"strong house of Erechtheus\", to\nwhich, according to the Odyssey, Athene betakes herself as her _own_\nhome. On the old citadel of the Kings, royal residence and sanctuary\nof the goddess were combined; its foundation walls have recently\nbeen discovered on the spot where later joint worship was paid to\nAthene and Erechtheus in the \"Erechtheion\".[37\\3] Erechtheus dwells\nbelow the ground in a crypt of this temple,[38\\3] like other\nearth-deities, in the form of a snake, immortally. He is not dead,\nfor as Euripides still says, in a story which otherwise follows\ndifferent lines, \"the earth gaped and covered him over,\"[39\\3] i.e.\nhe was _translated_ and lived on under the earth. On the analogy of\nthe examples already discussed it is clear that this is also a case\nof a primitive local deity,[40\\3] once supposed to have been living\nalways in a cave on the mountain-side, transformed to a Hero who has\nbeen brought there and raised to immortal life. The later belief in\nHeroes required a _grave_ at which the continued existence and\npotency of the \"Hero\" was localized; by a natural process of\ndevelopment the Hero Erechtheus translated alive and made immortal\nis thought of as _buried_ in a grave. Erichthonios, who was\nexpressly identified with the Homeric Erechtheus, was by later ages\nsupposed to be buried in the Temple of Polias, i.e. the oldest\ntemple of Athene, on the Acropolis.[41\\3] We have clearly before us\nthe steps by which the {99} aboriginal deity, dwelling beneath the\nground, the son of Earth, is made into a mortal Hero, translated to\nimmortality and placed under the protection of the Olympian goddess\nwho has now become more powerful than he; and finally transferred,\ncave and all, to the precincts of her temple, and finally reduced to\nthe condition of a Hero like another, who had died and lies\npeacefully buried in the temple of the goddess on the citadel.\n\nWith this example before us we may explain several other analogous\ncases, in which we have only the last stage of the process, the\ngrave of a Hero in a god's temple, without any of the intermediate\nsteps. A single example may be given.\n\nAt Amyklai, not far from Sparta, in the holiest temple of Laconia,\nstood the ancient bronze statue of Apollo upon an altar-shaped base,\nwithin which, according to legend, _Hyakinthos_ lay buried. Through\na bronze door in the side of the altar offerings for the dead were\nsent down to \"Hyakinthos\" buried below every year at the festival of\nthe Hyakinthia.[42\\3] The recipient of these offerings has little\nresemblance to the gentle youth of popular legend. The Hellenistic\npoets tell how he was beloved by Apollo and died by a cast of\nApollo's discus and was changed into a flower. The fable, almost\ndestitute of local reference, has been put together from many\npopular themes.[43\\3] The sculpture on the above-mentioned altar, on\nthe other hand, represents among many gods and heroes Hyakinthos and\nhis sister Polyboia as they are being carried up to heaven--which\nwill not square with the metamorphosis story. Further, he is\nrepresented as bearded, and so not as the boy whom Apollo\nloved,[44\\3] but as a grown man (of whose daughters indeed other\nlegends make mention).[45\\3] The true story of _this_ Hyakinthos has\ndisappeared almost without leaving a trace. But in what the monument\nreveals and in what we know of the yearly festival held in honour of\nHyakinthos significant features emerge which perhaps can tell us the\nreal character of the Daimon that was honoured at Amyklai together\nwith, and as our information clearly shows, before Apollo\nhimself.[46\\3] Hyakinthos was given offerings that were otherwise\npeculiar to the gods that ruled the lower world.[47\\3] These\nofferings were let down directly into the underground place where,\nin fact, Hyakinthos himself was supposed to dwell. In the great\nfestival of the Hyakinthia the alternate worship of Apollo and\nHyakinthos (after whom as the chief personage the festival is named)\npoints to the incomplete amalgamation of two originally distinct\ncults; and the plain and unadorned, almost dismal, ceremonies of\n{100} the days devoted to Hyakinthos--contrasted with the more\ncheerful worship paid to Apollo on the middle day of the\nfeast[48\\3]--allow us to see clearly the real nature of Hyakinthos\nas a Daimon related to the gods of the underworld. On the\naltar-relief Polyboia was represented as his sister: she was a\ngoddess of the underworld like Persephone.[49\\3] Hyakinthos was,\nthen, an old local deity of the Amyklaian countryside, dwelling\nbelow the earth, and his worship at Amyklai was older than that of\nApollo. But he is a dim figure. The Olympian god (probably not\nbefore the Doric conquest of the Ach\u00e6an land) has set himself down\nbeside, and indeed over, the ancient earth-spirit, and now outshines\nhim without quite being able to banish his worship. The divine\nexistence of the latter under the ground could not be imagined by\nlater ages, except as the after-existence of the psyche of a dead\nand buried Hero whose body lay in the \"grave\" under the statue of\nthe god. Next, in order to explain their association in cult, poetic\nlegend made the god a lover, just as in another case, and for\nsimilar reasons, it had made him the lover of Daphne.[50\\3]\n\n\u00a7 4\n\nThus it may be that under many a Hero whose grave was shown in the\nTemple of a god an ancient local-god was hidden, whose abode beneath\nthe earth had been converted into a \"grave\" now that he himself had\nsunk from a deity of higher rank to a human chieftain. It depended\nupon the circumstances of the case whether his humanization was\ncomplete or whether the memory of his former god-head (preserved in\ncult) secured for him a second elevation to the heavenly\nregions[51\\3] among the Olympian gods whose nature was originally\nquite foreign to that of the old earth-daimon. Such conceptions,\ndiffering widely according to the circumstances of place and time,\nare shown most clearly in the different views taken of _Asklepios_.\nFor Homer and the poets he is generally a great chieftain, a mortal\nwho had learnt the art of healing from Cheiron. In religious cult he\nwas generally set on a level with the upper gods. In reality he,\ntoo, is a local earth-dwelling deity from Thessaly, who from beneath\nthe earth dispenses, like so many earth-spirits, healing from the\nills of the flesh and knowledge of the future[52\\3]--the two being\nclosely connected in antiquity. He, too, easily bore the change from\ngod to Hero. Asklepios was struck by Zeus' lightning which in this,\nas in many cases, did not destroy life, but translated the person\naffected to a higher existence outside the visible world.[53\\3]\n{101} We can now easily understand what it means when even this\nancient earth-deity is said to be \"buried\"--his grave being shown at\ndifferent places.[54\\3] Many peculiarities of the worship paid to\nhim show clearly the original character of Asklepios as an ancient\ngod living below the earth.[55\\3] One essential characteristic\nindeed of such earth-spirits he lacks--he is not bound to any one\nparticular place. An enterprising priesthood, wandering in company\nwith the rest of their tribe, had taken with them this old\nestablished worship of theirs, and spread it far and wide, so that\nAsklepios himself became at home in many different places.\n\nNow, in closest relationship, though they remained more faithful to\ntheir original character, with this Zeus Asklepios stood those\nBoeotian earth-spirits with whom this discussion began. Trophonios,\nand Amphiaraos, too, might have been described as an Asklepios, who\nhad stayed at home in his old cavern dwelling.[56\\3] They, too,\nAmphiaraos and Trophonios, had become mortal men of a past age in\nthe imagination of a time which could no longer properly understand\nsuch cave-spirits. But we never hear of their \"graves\"; for the\ngeneration which made _them_ Heroes knew nothing of mortal\nchieftains who after dying and being buried yet lived on with\nundiminished powers. But it was the belief in their uninterrupted\npotency that gave those strange cavern deities a secure place in\nmen's memory. In the epic and in legends inspired by the epic they\nare recognized as human beings that had not died but had been\ntranslated, without any division of soul from body, to everlasting\nlife in the depths of the earth. Ever afterwards--even when they are\nnot only called immortal, but actually \"gods\"--they are reckoned as\nmen who have _become_ immortal or godlike.[57\\3] And they have\nbecome the patterns of what other mortals too may rise to. In the\n_Electra_ of Sophokles (836 ff.) the chorus wishing to justify the\nhope of a continued life for the departed, expressly appeal to the\nexample of Amphiaraos, who still rules below the earth with all his\nspiritual powers intact. For the same reason these and other\nexamples offered by ancient legend and poetry of the \"translation\"\nof individual great men to a life below the earth are important for\nour inquiry too. In them, as it did (in another sense) in the case of\nthose translated to the Islands of the Blest, the Epic points beyond\nits own resigned and gloomy conception of the state after death\ntowards a higher life after the visible world has been left behind.\nIt took isolated cases of the once numerous class of cavern deities\nworshipped in Greek countries, and deprived {102} them of their\ngod-head, though not of the superhumanly continued existence and\n(especially mantic) powers claimed for them by the belief and cult\nof their countrymen. Thus reduced to mortal rank, it interwove them\nin the fabric of the heroic mythology, and in so doing instituted a\nclass of outstanding human individuals who had been raised to a\ngodlike existence, far, indeed, from the upper world, but, at least,\nnot condemned to the common realm of the souls. Instead they were\ngiven a home beneath the earth, each in a definite place in Greek\nterritory, near living men, and able to help them. The descent from\ngod to mortal Hero resulted, since the essential point of continued\nexistence was not denied, in a corresponding exaltation of the\nmortal and the heroic to the divine. Thus the epic leads us in this\ninstance towards a range of conceptions which the poems themselves\ntreated as though it never existed, and which now suddenly comes\ninto view.\n\n\n\nNOTES TO CHAPTER III\n\n[1\\3: Pi., _N._ ix, 24 ff., x, 8 f., [Apollod.] iii, 6, 8, 4 (~su\\n\nt\u00f4=| ha/rmati kai\\ t\u00f4=| h\u00eanio/ch\u00f4| Ba/t\u00f4ni . . . _ekru/phth\u00ea_ kai\\\nZeu\\s _atha/naton_ auto\\n epoi/\u00easen~) etc. The expressions used to\ndescribe the translation and continued conscious existence of A. are\nnoteworthy: ~kata\\ gai=' auto/n te/ nin kai\\ phaidi/mous hi/ppous\n_e/marpsen_~, Pi., _O._ vi, 14. ~Zeu\\s _kru/psen_ ha/m' hi/ppois~,\n_N._ ix, 25. ~gai=a _hupe/dekto_ ma/ntin Oiklei/dan~, x, 8. ~ma/ntis\n_kekeuth\u00f4\\s_ polemi/as hupo chthono/s~, A., _Th._, 588. ~ede/xato\nrhagei=sa Th\u00eabai/a ko/nis~, S. _fr._, 873 (= 958 P.). ~theoi\\ _z\u00f4=nt'\nanarpa/santes_ es mu/chous chthono\\s autoi=s tethri/ppois\neulogou=sin emphan\u00f4=s~, E. _Supp._, 928 f. ~_h\u00ea/rpasen_ cha/rubdis\noi\u00f4nosko/pon, te/thrippon ha/rma peribalou=sa cha/smati~, 501 f.\n(Eriphyle ~Amphia/raon _e/krups'_ hupo\\ g\u00ea=n autoi=si su\\n\nhi/ppois~, Oracle in Ephorus ap. Ath., 232 F. ~Amphiara/ou _z\u00f4=ntos_\nto\\ s\u00f4=ma katade/xasthai t\u00ea\\n g\u00ea=n~, Agatharch., p. 115, 21 M\u00fc.\n~_epespa/sato_ h\u00ea g\u00ea= _z\u00f4=nta_~, Philostr., _V. Ap._, 2, 37, p. 79,\n18 Kays. ~_aphanismo/s_~ of A., St. Byz. s. ~Ha/rpuia.--_pa/mpsuchos_\nana/ssei~, S., _El._, 841; ~_aei\\_ z\u00f4=n tima=tai~, Xen.,\n_Cyn._ i, 8.]\n\n[2\\3: That the translation of Amphiaraos in the form so frequently\nrepeated by later authors (clearly following an important and\ninfluential original) appeared already in the Theba\u00efs of the epic\ncycle is taken by Welcker for granted, _Ep. Cykl._ ii, 362, 66. The\nview is intrinsically probable: but it can claim more definite\ngrounds. Pi., _O._ vi, 12-17, tells us that after Amphiaraos and his\nteam had been swallowed up by the earth, Adrastos, over the seven\nfuneral-pyres (which consumed the bodies of the Argives who had\nfallen in battle, said ~pothe/\u00f4 stratia=s ophthalmo\\n ema=s,\nampho/teron, ma/ntin t' agatho\\n kai\\ douri\\ ma/rnasthai~. That this\nfamous lament was taken ~ek t\u00ea=s kuklik\u00ea=s Th\u00eaba\u00ef/dos~, _fr._ 5\nKinkel, p. 12, is proved by the testimony of the ancient scholia on\n~pothe/\u00f4 ktl.~, quoting Asklepiades. This means that in the Theba\u00efs\ntoo, after the battle was over Amphiaraos was not to be found either\namong the fallen or the survivors--was in fact translated. Pindar\nmust have taken not merely the words of the lament of Adrastos but\nthe whole situation that led up to these words, as he described it,\nfrom the Theba\u00efs. (Bethe, _Theb. Held._ [1891], p. 58 f., 94 ff.,\nclaims to prove that Pindar took nothing but the words ~ampho/teron\nktl.~ from the Theba\u00efs which said nothing of the burial of these who\nhad fallen before Thebes, and that Pindar added this last on his own\naccount, _O._ vi, as well as _N._ ix, 25. But the \"proofs\" of this\nview, in itself highly improbable, on closer examination come to\nnothing.)--In the Odyssey it is said of Amph. ~_o/let'_ en\nTh\u00ea/b\u00ea|si~ ~o~ 247; ~_tha/nen_ Amphia/raos~ 253. The expression \"is\nnaturally to be understood as merely implying _disappearance_ from\nthe earth\" says Welcker, _Ep. C._ ii, 366. All we can claim is that\nthe expression does not indeed _prevent_ us from assuming that the\nstory of the \"disappearance\" of Amph. was known also to the poet of\nthese lines. Thus in the _OC._ of Soph. Antigone says twice over\n(ll. 1706, 1714) that Oedipus ~_e/thane_~, whereas he really was\nlike Amphiaraos translated alive (~a/skopoi pla/kes _e/marpsan_~\n1681).]\n\n[3\\3: Pi., _fr._ 167, A.R. i, 57-64 (~z\u00f4o/s per e/ti . . . edu/seto\nneio/thi gai/\u00eas~). Orph., _Arg._, 171-5 (~phasi\\n . . . z\u00f4o/n t' en\nphthime/noisi molei=n hupo\\ keu/thesi gai/\u00eas~). Agatharch., p. 114,\n39-43 M\u00fc. (~eis t\u00ea\\n g\u00ea=n katadu=nai ortho/n te kai\\ z\u00f4=nta~).\nSchol. and Eust. on ~A~ 264, p. 1001.--In Ovid, _M._ xii, 514 ff.,\nthe translation becomes a metamorphosis (into a bird); and {104}\noften an ancient translation myth has thus been replaced by a\nmetamorphosis in later mythology. The connected story of Kaineus has\nbeen lost, and only a few fragments survive in Sch., A.R. i, 57;\nSch., ~A~ 264 (the best known being the change of sex [cf. also\nMeineke, _h. crit. com._, 345], the meaning of which is very\ndubious. Similar stories are told of Teiresias, Sithon (Ov., _M._\niv, 280), Iphis, and Ianthe, this last reminding us strikingly of a\nnarrative in the Mah\u00e2bh\u00e2rata. Then frequently in many miracle tales,\nboth heathen and Christian, to which far too much respect is paid by\nthose who seek to find in them dark reminiscences of bisexual gods).\nNo traces of a _cult_ of Kaineus can be found.]\n\n[4\\3: Althaimenes, son of Katreus (cf. _Rh. Mus._ 36, 432 f.),\n~euxa/menos hupo\\ cha/smatos ekru/b\u00ea~ [Apollod.], iii, 2, 2, 3.\nRationalistic version of Zeno of Rhodos ap. D.S., 5, 59, 4, who\nsays, however, ~hu/steron kata\\ chr\u00easmo/n tina tima\\s e/sche para\\\nRhodi/ois h\u00ear\u00f4\u00efka/s~, and, in fact, we learn from an insc. in\nNewton, _Gr. Insc. in B.M._ ii, 352, that a political division\n(Ktoina?) of the people of Rhodos was called ~Althaimeni/s~, whose\n~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s ep\u00f4/numos~ must have been Althaimenes.]\n\n[5\\3: Amphilochos appeared in person to sleepers at his dream-oracle\nat Mallos in Cilicia (Luc., _Philops._, 38)--so also did his rival\nMopsos, Plut., _DO._ 45, 434 D--as well as at his oracle in\nAkarnania, Aristid. i, p. 78 D. [38, 21 Keil]. Mopsos in Cilicia and\nAmphilochos in Akarnania are alike in being among those ~daimo/nia~\nwhich ~hidrume/na e/n tini to/p\u00f4| tou=ton oikou=sin~, Orig., _c.\nCels._ iii, 34, pp. 293-4 L. The same author says of Amph. Mopsos\nand others, ~anthr\u00f4poeidei=s the\u00f4rei=sthai theou/s~, vii, 35, p.\n53.]\n\n[6\\3: Laodike, daughter of Priam [Apollod.], _Epit._ v, 25; Nicol.\n_Prog._ ii, 1.--Aristaios, who ~a/phantos gi/gnetai~ in M. Haemus\nand is now honoured ~athana/tois timai=s~, D.S. iv, 82, 6. (Cf.\nHiller v. G\u00e4rtr., Pauly-Wiss. ii, 855, 23 ff.)]\n\n[7\\3: The regular expression for these subterranean dwelling-places\nis ~me/gara~. Lex. rhet. ap. Eust., _Od._, 1387, 17 f. Hence also\nthe sacrificial pits into which men lowered the offerings made to\nthe deities of the lower world are called ~me/gara~ (Lob., _Agl._,\n830; ~me/gara = cha/smata~, Schol. Luc., _D. Mer._ 2, pp. 275 ff.\nRabe. It was thought that by sinking the gifts in the ground they\nwould immediately reach the dwelling-place of the spirit who lived\nthere. The sacrificial chasm is itself the \"chamber\", ~me/garon~, in\nwhich the spirit lives (in the form of a snake) and dwells.]\n\n[8\\3: ~k~ 492 ff., ~psuch\u00ea=| chr\u00easome/nous Th\u00eabai/ou Teiresi/ao,\nma/nt\u00eaos alaou= tou= te phre/nes e/mpedoi/ eisin; t\u00f4=| kai\\\ntethn\u00ea\u00f4=ti no/on po/re Persepho/neia, oi/\u00f4| pepnu=sthai; toi\\ de\\\nskiai\\ a\u00ef/sousin~. His ~phre/nes~ being undestroyed the most\nimportant and distinguishing feature of death is absent. His body,\nindeed, is destroyed and hence he is called ~tethn\u00ea\u00f4/s~ like all the\nother dwellers in Hades, though it is still difficult to see how the\n~phre/nes~ could remain without a body. It is highly probable that\nthe idea of the continued existence of the consciousness of the\nfamous seer renowned in Theban legend was derived by the poet from a\npopular tradition according to which Teiresias still gave proof of\nthe clearness of his wits by the oracles which he sent up from below\nthe earth. In Orchomenos there was a ~chr\u00east\u00ea/rion Teiresi/ou~,\nPlu., _DO._ 44, p. 434 C (as Nitzsch, _Anm. Od._ iii, p. 151. also\nreminds us). If we may argue from the context in which Plutarch\nspeaks of him, this must have been an earth-oracle, i.e. an\n_incubation-oracle_. There stories like those told at Thebes of\nAmphiaraos may have been related of Teiresias and his survival after\ndeath. Some such information the poet of {105} the Nekyia may then\nhave transformed and made use of for his own purposes. Str. 762 not\nwithout good ground connects these verses about Teiresias with the\nstories of Amphiaraos and Trophonios.]\n\n[9\\3: The ancient site of the Oracle of Amphiaraos was near Thebes\nat the place (Knopia where according to the epic story he sank into\nthe earth. Paus. 9, 8, 3, Str. 404. Even at the time of the Persian\nwar the envoy of Mardonios inquired of him there, near Thebes, as\nHdt. viii, 134, unmistakably says. (That the oracle lay in Theban\nterritory is shown also by the addition of the words, otherwise\npointless, ~Th\u00eabai/\u00f4n oudeni\\ e/xesti manteu/esthai autothi/~. A\nsimilar rule is found at the temple of Herakles in Erythrai which\nmay be approached by Thracian women but not by Erythr\u00e6an women\n[Paus. 7, 5, 7-8]; and in the same way the Lampsakenoi were\nexcluded from the funeral games of Miltiades on the Chersonnese:\nHdt. vi, 38.) Oropos also claimed to harbour Amphiaraos under its\nsoil; Sch. Pi., _O._ vi, 18, 21-3; differently in Paus. 1, 34, 2-4.\nBut the oracle must have been moved there afterwards--hardly before\nthe end of the fifth century (~methidru/th\u00ea~, Str. 404); to suppose\nthat it had always been confined to Oropos is contrary to all the\ntraditional evidence.]\n\n[10\\3: Those who wished to inquire of his oracle offered by night to\nTrophonios, before going down into the cave, a ram, sacrificing it\nin a pit (~bo/thros~): Paus. 9, 39, 6; to Amphiaraos, after a\nconsiderable fast (Philos., _VA._, 2, 37, pp. 79, 19 ff. K.) and the\nprovision of a ~katha/rsion~, the inquirer offered a ram upon the\nfleece of which he lay down to sleep (Paus. 1, 34, 5).--Cleanthem\ncum _pede terram percussisset_ versum ex Epigonis (prob. of Soph.)\nferunt dixisse: audisne haec, Amphiara\u00eb, sub terram abdite? Cic.,\n_TD._ ii, 60. The gesture also must have been borrowed from the same\nscene in the ~Epi/gonoi~. It was thus customary to knock on the\nground in calling upon A., as in the case of other ~katachtho/nioi\n(Amphia/rae chtho/nie~ occurs as late as _P. Mag. Par._ 1446 f. W\n.): ~I~ 568; cf. Paus. 8, 15, 3. Cf. also N\u00e4gelsb., _Nachh.\nTheol._, 102, 214. Skedasos in Sparta ~g\u00ea=n tu/pt\u00f4n anekalei=to ta\\s\nErinu/as~, Plu., _AN._ 3, p. 774 B. In his grief for the loss of his\ndaughter Herodes Atticus threw himself on the ground ~t\u00ea\\n g\u00ea=n\npai/\u00f4n kai\\ bo\u00f4=n; ti/ soi, thu/gater, kathagi/s\u00f4? ti/ soi\nxuntha/ps\u00f4?~ Philostr., _VS._ 2, 1, 10. Pythagoras ~ho/tan\nbront\u00ea/s\u00ea| t\u00ea=s g\u00ea=s ha/psasthai par\u00ea/ggeilen~, Iamb., _VP._ 156.]\n\n[11\\3: That the dream-oracle of Trophonios had a much older\ninfluence is implied by the story of the inquiry made of it by the\n~Boi\u00f4toi\\ halo/ntes hupo\\ Thra|k\u00f4=n~ in Phot. (Suid.) ~lu/sioi\nteletai/~.]\n\n[12\\3: Trophonios himself was supposed to appear in the cave at\nLebadeia. The inquirer goes down to it ~deo/menos _suggene/sthai_\nt\u00f4=| daimoni/\u00f4|~ (Max. Tyr. 14, 2, p. 249 R.); indications were\nsought from sacrifice ~ei d\u00ea\\ to\\n katio/nta eumen\u00ea\\s kai\\ hi/le\u00f4s\n_de/xetai~_ (Trophonios), Paus. 9, 36, 6. Saon, the discoverer of\nthe oracle and founder of the cult, had after entering the\n~mantei=on~ met Trophonios himself in person, ~t\u00ea\\n hierourgi/an . .\n. didachth\u00ea=nai para\\ tou= Troph\u00f4ni/ou phasi/~ (Paus. 9, 40, 2). He\ndwells and is visible in the oracular cavern: Orig., _Cels._ iii,\n34, pp. 293-4 L.; vii, 35, p. 53; Aristid. i, p. 78 D. [38, 21\nKeil]. Even the stupidly rationalising account of Troph. in Schol.\nAr., _Nub._ 508, p. 190 Ruth., Sch. Luc., _DM._ iii, Cosm. ad Greg.\nNaz. p. 184 [Clarke, p. 52] (Eudoc., _Viol._, p. 682, 8)--implies\nthe bodily presence of an ~egkatoik\u00ea=san daimo/nion~ in the cave of\nTrophonios. Lucian, too, shows that this was the popular impression\n(_DM._ iii, 2) by his curious satiric fiction that whereas Troph.\nhimself was in Hades (to which acc. to _Necyom._ 22 the cave of\nTrophonios was only an {106} entrance ~to\\ thei=on h\u00eami/tomon~ of\nTrophonios ~chra=| en Boi\u00f4ti/a|~. Thus the visitor expected to meet\nTrophonios there in his divine shape, as Ampelius puts it in a\nsimilar case with great simplicity and directness, 8, 3: ibi (Argis\nin Epiro Iovis templum hyphonis (irretrievably corrupt: _Trophonii_\nabsurdly Duker; _Typhonis_, _Tychonis_ others not much better) unde\nest ad inferos descensus ad tollendas sortes: in quo loco dicuntur\nii qui descenderunt Iovem ipsum videre. Otherwise, Tr. was said to\ninhabit the cave in the shape of a snake as is so frequently the\ncase with earth-deities. Not only are snakes sacred to him as to\nAsklepios (Paus. 9, 39, 3) and live in his cave (to propitiate them\npeople take honey-cakes down with them) but he himself is present in\nthe form of a snake: ~o/phis \u00ea=n ho manteuo/menos~, Schol. Ar.,\n_Nub._ 508: cf. Suidas ~Troph\u00f4/nios~. It was this personal contact\nbetween the god and the inquirer which specially distinguished the\noracle of Tr. ~mo/non ekei=no (to\\ mantei=on) di' autou= chra=| tou=\nchr\u00f4me/nou~. Philostr., _VA._ 8, 19, p. 335, 30 K. Of course, many\nonly _heard_ without seeing: ~tis kai\\ ei=den kai\\ a/llos \u00ea/kousen~,\nPaus. 9, 39, 11. But it was the god they heard.]\n\n[13\\3: Speaking of Zalmoxis among the Getae (cf. Str. 297 f.; 762;\nHdt. iv, 95-6. _EM._ ~Za/lm.~), Mopsos in Cilicia, Amphilochos in\nAkarnania, Amphiaraos and Trophonios--in fact, all of them daimones\nwho had oracles of Incubation--Or. (_Cels._ iii, 34, p. 293-4 L.)\nsays: they have temples and ~aga/lmata~ as ~daimoni/ois ouk oi=d'\nho/p\u00f4s _hidrume/nois_ e/n tini to/p\u00f4|, ho\\n . . . _oikou=sin_~. They\ndwell within this ~he/na kekl\u00ear\u00f4me/non to/pon~, vii, 35 (pp. 53-4\nL.), cf. iii, 35 fin. In that place and only there are such daimones\nvisible. _Cels._ vii, 35 (p. 53 L.), of the temples of Amph.,\nTroph., Mops.: ~e/ntha ph\u00easi\\n anthr\u00f4poeidei=s the\u00f4rei=sthai theou\\s\nkai\\ ou pseudome/nous alla\\ kai\\ enargei=s. . . . o/psetai/ tis\nautou\\s ouch ha/pax pararrue/ntas . . . all' _a/ei_ toi=s\nboulome/nois homilou=ntas~ (and so ever present there. Aristid. i,\np. 78 Di. [38, 21 K.], ~Amphia/raos kai\\ Troph\u00f4/nios en Boi\u00f4ti/a|\nkai\\ Amphi/lochos en Ait\u00f4li/a| chr\u00easm\u00f4|dou=si kai\\ _phai/nontai_~.\nOn the extension beyond its original home of the cult of such an\nIncubation-deity localization in a single spot was of course\nrelaxed. It was either disputed where his permanent habitation\nreally was (as in the case of Amph.), or else the god gradually\nceased to be bound to any one place, though still bound to certain\nplaces in the sense that he could appear only there, and not\nanywhere he chose. Such is the case with Asklepios and with various\nother daimones equally bound originally to a single spot, who then\n~epiphai/nontai, epiphoit\u00f4=sin~, in certain other temples as well\n(cf. for example, the account of the ~epipha/neiai~ of Machaon and\nPodaleirios in Adrotta given by Marin., _V. Procli_, 32; cf. Suid.\n~Euste/phios~, from Damascius, _V. Isid._). But when inquiries are\nmade of a god by _Incubation_ the god must always appear in person;\nif he is absent no oracle can be given. See the story of Amphiaraos\nin Plu., _DO._ 5, p. 412 A. In the records of miracles of healing\nfound in Epidauros the god himself regularly comes to the sleeper in\nthe ~a/duton~ (or else in the form of a snake ~Eph. Arch.~ '83, p.\n215 f., ll. 113-19), sometimes accompanied by his ~hup\u00ea/retai~ (the\nAsklepiadai), cf. ~Eph. Arch.~ '85, p. 17 ff. ll. 38 ff., 111 f. In\nthe old miracle of Aristagora of Troezen (~Eph. Arch.~ '85, p. 15,\nl. 10 ff.) reported already by Hippys of Rhegion (which there is no\nreason to doubt) at first only \"the sons of the god\" appeared to the\nsick woman ~ouk epidamou=ntos autou= all' en Epidau/r\u00f4| eo/ntos~.\nOnly in the following night did Asklepios himself appear to her\n~hik\u00f4\\n ex Epidau/rou~. Everywhere it is implied that dream-healing\ncan only take place through personal action of the god (cf. Ar.,\n_Plut._); {107} later by the advice, at least, of the god,\npersonally appearing to the patient (see Zacher, _Hermes_, xxi, 472\nf.); and this presumption is explained by the fact that originally\nIncubation could only take place at the actual spot where the god\n(or Hero) had his permanent abode.]\n\n[14\\3: The ~hupoph\u00ea=tai~ of the Dodonian Zeus the ~Selloi/,\nanipto/podes chamaieu=nai~, ~P~ 234 f., were explained by some\nalready in antiquity as priests of an Incubation oracle (Eust.,\n_Il._, p. 1057, 64 ff.), Welcker agreeing with them, _Kl. Schr._\niii, 90 f. This view is founded solely on the adj. ~chamaieu=nai~,\nwhich is not, however, to be separated from ~anipto/podes~. But\nsince ~anipto/podes~ can have no connexion with Incubation neither\nthen can ~chamaieu=nai~. Both epithets refer obviously to the\nspecial severity and simplicity of the life of the ~Selloi/~, the\n(ritual) reason for which it is true we do not know and have no\nmeans of guessing.]\n\n[15\\3: It remains indeed impossible to determine what moved the epic\nto recognize in the Boeotian cave-daimon the _Argive_ seer\nAmphiaraos (even during his life-time an adept in the\nincubation-mantic art acc. to Paus. 2, 13, 7; cf. Did. in _Gp._ 2,\n35, 8, p. 73, 14 ff. Beckh), or why the heroized god Amphiaraos was\nturned into an Argive and made a member of the prophetic family of\nMelampous otherwise the foes of the Boeotian seers; or, finally, why\nhe was brought to Boeotia as an enemy and then made to dwell for\never in that hostile and alien land.]\n\n[16\\3: Henry the Fowler in Sudemerberg: Kuhn and Schwartz, _Nordd.\nSag._, p. 185. The other examples in Grimm, ch. xxxii.--G. Voigt in\nSybel's _hist. Zeits._ xxvi (1871), pp. 131-87, shows in his most\nlucid account that it was not originally Frederick Barbarossa but\nFrederick II whom the legend represented as not dead but \"lost\" and\nto whom the expectation referred that he would come again some day.\nFrom the fifteenth century the story begins to appear that he was\ndwelling in Kyffh\u00e4user (or in a cave in the rocks near\nKaiserslautern); the name of Barbarossa does not appear till the\nsixteenth century, and then gradually predominates. But how it came\nabout that from a definite moment onwards the translated emperor was\nthought of as living on in a hollow mountain is by no means clear\nfrom the written documents alone or from the critical study of the\nevolution of the legend. Suddenly and without intermediate steps the\nstory assumes this shape, and it can hardly be accounted for except\non the view that it arose from the combination of the Frederick\nlegend with already existing Saga-stories of translated Heroes or\ngods (as Voigt also suggests, p. 160).]\n\n[17\\3: Grimm, pp. 959-61. Simrock, _D. Myth._^3, p. 144.--How easily\nsimilar legends can appear spontaneously among different peoples\nwithout interconnexion appears from the fact that translation\nlegends are also found not only in Greece but in distant Mexico; see\nM\u00fcller, _Gesch. am. Urrel._ 582. Holy men who have \"vanished\" and\nare not dead but live on in the depths of mountain caves, and are\nexpected one day to reappear on earth, occur in the legends of\nMohammedan peoples of the East: A. v. Kremer, _Culturg. Streifz.\nGeb. Islam_, 50; _Gesch. Ideen Islam_, 375 f., 378.]\n\n[18\\3: ~Dii\\ Treph\u00f4ni/oi~ Insc. from Lebadeia, Meister, _B\u00f6ot.\nInsc._ 423 (_GDI._ i, p. 163); otherwise only ~Treph\u00f4ni/oi~ (n. 407,\n414, ~kataba\\s en Treph\u00f4/nion~ _BCH._ 1890, p. 21), ~Troph\u00f4ni/\u00f4|~\n(n. 413); and side by side occur ~tu= Di\\ tu= Basilei=i k\u00ea\\ tu=\nTreph\u00f4ni/u~, etc. (n. 425, 429, 430). ~Dionu/s\u00f4 eustaphu/l\u00f4 kata\\\nchr\u00easmo\\n Dio\\s Troph\u00f4ni/ou~ Insc. from Labadeia in Stephani _Reise\nd. Geg. n\u00f6rd. Griechen_, No. 47. Ins. from Leb. _IGSept._ i, 3077\n(1st-2nd cent. A.D.)--Str. 414: ~Leba/deia ho/pou Dio\\s Troph\u00f4ni/ou\nmantei=on hi/drutai~. {108} Liv. 45, 27, 8, Labadiae templum Iovis\nTrophonii adiit. Obs. 50 (= 110) Lebadiae Eutychides in templum\nIovis Trophonii degressus--. ~Dio\\s mantei=on~ is the name given to\nthe oracle of Tr. in Phot. also and Hesych. ~Leba/deia~.]\n\n[19\\3: ~Dio\\s Amphiara/ou hiero/n~ (at Oropos): [Dicaearch.] _Descr.\nGr._ i, \u00a7 6 (i, 100 M\u00fc.). Even Hyperides in the speech for\nEuxenippos refers throughout to Amph. at Oropos as a god. Amph. in\nOr. ~ho theo/s~ (1st-2nd cent. B.C.): _IGS._ i, 3498; 412; _CIG._\n1570a, 25, 30, 52. Liv. 45, 27, 10 (in Oropos) pro deo vates\nantiquus colitur. Cic. _Div._ i, 88: Amphiaraum sic honoravit fama\nGr\u00e6ci\u00e6, deus ut haberetur. Plutarch also, speaking of the embassy\nsent by Mardonios to the ancient Theban oracle, calls Amph.\n~theo/s~: _DO._ 5, p. 412 A. Acc. to Paus. 1, 34, 2, however, Amph.\nwas first honoured as a god in Oropos.]\n\n[20\\3: Origen is expressing it in his own way, but he is quite right\nin principle when he distinguishes the local gods remaining in the\ncountryside from the gods of Olympos, _Cels._ iii, 35 fin.:\n~mochth\u00ear\u00f4=n daimo/n\u00f4n kai\\ to/pous epi\\ g\u00ea=s prokateil\u00eapho/t\u00f4n,\nepei\\ t\u00ea=s kathar\u00f4te/ras ou du/nantai epha/psasthai ch\u00f4/ras kai\\\ntheiote/ras~. He says of Asklepios, 5, 2 (p. 169 L.), ~theo\\s me\\n\na\\n ei/\u00ea aei\\ de\\ lach\u00f4\\n oikei=n t\u00ea\\n g\u00ea=n kai\\ h\u00f4sperei\\ phuga\\s\ntou= to/pou t\u00f4=n the\u00f4=n~.]\n\n[21\\3: ~Dio\\s mega/lou oarist\u00ea/s~. The word implies quite as much\nfamiliar conversation as well as general intimacy with Zeus. The\nobscure ~enne/\u00f4ros~ need not be considered here. In any case it is\nto be taken closely with ~basi/leue~, next to which it stands, and\nnot with ~Dio\\s m. oarist\u00ea/s~ (as many even ancient writers have\ndone.]\n\n[22\\3: Intercourse of Minos with Zeus in the cave: [Pl.] _Min._ 319\nE. (whence Str. 762), Ephorus ap. Str. 476; (from Eph. also Nic.\nDam. ap. Stob. _Fl._ iv, 2, 25, p. 161 H.). V.M. i, 2, ext. 1. Here\nthe position of the cave is as a rule not precisely stated. But the\nIdaian cave is generally meant and Max. Tyr. definitely refers to\nthis one as the place where Minos met Zeus, 38, 2 (p. 221 R.).]\n\n[23\\3: Birth of Zeus in the cave: ~Aigai/\u00f4| en o/rei~ Hes., _Th._\n481 ff. Thence his mother bore him ~es Lu/kton~ 482 (cf. 477), which\nwould be near Ida:--~es Di/kt\u00ean~ Sch\u00f6mann. And, at any rate, the\ncave on Mt. Dicte was the generally reputed place of Zeus' _birth_:\n[Apoll.] 1, 1, 6. D.S. 5, 70, 6; Mela 2, 113; D.H. 2, 61 (who also\nmakes Minos visit Zeus there). At Praisos ~to\\ tou= Diktai/ou Dio\\s\nhiero/n~: Str. 475-8. Others, indeed, mention Ida as the place of\nthe birth of Zeus: D.S. 5, 70, 2, 4; A.R. iii, 134. Both the holy\ncaves are thus continually rivals; but it appears that the legend of\nthe birth of Zeus was principally localized at the Diktaian cave,\nthat of his intercourse with Minos chiefly at the Idaian; cf. now\nalso M. Mayer, _Myth. Lex._ s. Kronos, ii, 1533 ff.]\n\n[24\\3: Max. Tyr. 16, 1 (cf. 38, 3; prob. from Max. only, Theod. Met.\n_Misc._ c. 90, p. 580 M\u00fc.). Cf. _Rh. Mus._ 35, 161 f. Max. speaks of\nthe cave of Diktaian Zeus, perhaps only inexactly and by oversight.\nIt would be to Ida rather and its cave which rose above Knossos, the\nhome of Epimenides, that the legend would make him go on pilgrimage.\nSo, too, D.L. viii, 1, 3, of Pythagoras, ~en Kr\u00ea/t\u00ea| su\\n\nEpimeni/d\u00ea| kat\u00ea=lthen eis to\\ Idai=on a/ntron~. Pyth. in the Idaian\ncave, Porph., _VP._ 17.]\n\n[25\\3: Schol. Plat., _Leg._ i, introd. (p. 372 Herm.) and _Leg._ 625\nB, see Lob., _Agl._ 1121. (~Dio\\s Idai/ou mu/st\u00eas~, Eur., _Cret.\nfr._ 472, 10 N.) Recently the Idaian cave of Zeus has been\nrediscovered high up in the mountains, a day's journey from Knossos\n(Fabricius, _Ath. Mitth._, vol. x, 59 ff.). Remains of votive\nofferings of antiquity have been {109} found, but only before the\nentrance to the cave ~en t\u00f4=| stomi/\u00f4| tou= a/ntrou~ (where Thphr.\nhad already remarked the like, _HP._ 3, 3, 4); inside the cave,\nwhich, like a vaulted tomb, consisted of two chambers, only traces\nof the cult from Roman times were found. It seems from this that the\nsacrificial ritual of the previous period did not reach further than\nthe entrance of the cave (as was the case also at the temple of\nTroph. at Lebadeia; while the interior of the cave as the seat of\nthe god himself was only entered by Mystai and priests (the\nbirth-chamber was not to be approached at all: Boios, ap. Ant. Lib.\n19).]\n\n[26\\3: Porph., _VP._ 17, p. 25 N.: ~eis de\\ to\\ Idai=on kalou/menon\na/ntron kataba\\s e/ria e/ch\u00f4n me/lana ta\\s nomizome/nas tri\\s\nenne/a~ (cf. Nauck on S., _OC._ 483) ~h\u00eame/ras ekei= die/tripsen\nkai\\ kath\u00ea/gisen t\u00f4=| Dii/, to/n te stornu/menon aut\u00f4=| kat' e/tos\nthro/non ethea/sato~. The historical truth of the story of Pyth.'s\nvisit to the cave need not be discussed here, but we may assume the\ncredibility of the details given of the cult of Zeus in the cave and\nthe customary ceremonial of pilgrimage to it. (The story comes from\nrelatively good sources, _Gr. Roman_, p. 254.)--The long time spent\nin the cave (i.e. in the wide and lofty outer chamber) has its\ncompanion picture in what Str. 649 says of ~Char\u00f4/nion~ at Acharaka,\nPlu., _Gen. Soc._ 21, 590 B., of the cave of Trophonios. It was\nnecessary also to spend several days in the ~oi/k\u00eama Dai/monos\nagathou= kai\\ Tu/ch\u00eas~ in preparation for the descent into the cave:\nPaus. 9, 39, 5. The (to Zeus) ~stornu/menos kat' e/tos thro/nos~ has\nnothing to do with the Korybantic ~thronismo/s~ (see Hiller,\n_Hermes_, 21, 365). What is meant is in any case a _lectisternium_:\nthus in Athens it was usual to ~kli/n\u00ean str\u00f4=sai t\u00f4=| Plou/t\u00f4ni~,\n_CIA._ ii, 948-50; to Asklepios (_CIA._ ii, 453b 11): to Attis,\n_CIA._ ii, 622; (in Cos at the ~xenismo/s~ of Herakles, _Ins. Cos_\n36b, 22), etc. The ~thro/nos (str\u00f4nu/ein _thro/nous_ du/o~ for a\ngoddess _CIA._ ii, 624, 9, 10) appearing instead of a ~kli/n\u00ea~ is\npossibly in accordance with ancient ritual. Thus in the so-called\nfeasts of the dead in ancient times the Hero is represented on a\nthrone while later he reclines on the ~kli/n\u00ea~. Thus in Rome besides\n_lectisternia_ we sometimes have _sellisternia_ especially for\nfemale deities: _Comm. Lud. Saec._, l. 71; 101; 138 [Dessau, ii, 1,\np. 282; _CIL._ vi, 32] and elsewhere.]\n\n[27\\3: Acc. to Ennius, _Euh._ 73 Vahl. (ap. Lactant. i, 11, and ap.\nMin. Fel. xxi, 1) Euhemeros spoke of the grave of Zeus. Call., _h.\nJov._ 8-9, clearly attacks the fable of Zeus' grave in Crete. It\nseems to me very probable that Euh. had taken up the story as one\nthat evidently suited his cheap pragmatical interpretation of myths\nand had introduced it into literature. It would be Euh. then whom\nCall., loc. cit., was attacking as he did elsewhere the ~ge/r\u00f4n\nalaz\u00f4/n~ and his ~a/dika bibli/a~ (_fr._ 86).]\n\n[28\\3: The grave of Zeus in Crete is spoken of without exact\nspecification of the place by Call., loc. cit., Cic., _ND._ iii, 53;\nD.S. 3, 61, 2; Mela ii, 112; Luc., _Tim._ 6, _J. Tr._ 45, _Sacr._\n10, _D. Conc._ 6; Min. xxi, 8; Firm., _Err. Prof. Rel._ vii, 6.\nEuhemeros ap. Min. xxi, 1, speaks of the _Dict\u00e6i Iovis sepulcrum_\nobviously inexactly, for acc. to Lact. i, 11, he made the grave in\noppido Cnosso far from Mt. Dicte. Even there he means not \"in\" but\n\"near\" Knossos, i.e. on Mt. Ida. For the fact that it was on Mt. Ida\nwe have the testimony of Varro _de litoralibus_ ap. Solin. 11, p.\n81, 12-15 Momms. Finally, the situation of the grave within the\nIdaian cave is clear from Porph., _VP._ 17, p. 25 N.]\n\n[29\\3: Hence the story of the grave of Zeus (when not denied\noutright as by Call.) was allegorized; Celsus hinted at ~tropika\\s\nhuponoi/as~: Or., _Cels._ iii, 43, p. 307 L.; cf. Philostr., _VS._\np. 76, 15 ff. K.] {110}\n\n[30\\3: Examples are frequent in the mythology of Oriental, and\ngenerally but not exclusively Semitic peoples. It is generally\n\"Kronos\" who is buried (cf. Mayer, _Myth. Lex._ ii, 1487 ff.); at\nother times Astarte, Adonis, the Phrygian Attis, \"Herakles,\" and\nothers. Cf. also the stories of the Heroes sleeping eternally in\nSardinia (_Rh. Mus._ 35, 157 ff.; 37, 465 ff.); and of Kragos and\nthe other ~a/grioi theoi/~ (or ~theoi\\ agrei=s~? _JHS._ 10, 57, 55)\nwho \"were made immortal\" on Mt. Kragos in Lykia (St. Byz.\n~Kra/gos~): they, too, were thought of as sleeping, and not \"dead\",\nas Eust. on D.P. 847 expresses it.]\n\n[31\\3: Varro, _LL._ vii, 17, p. 124 Sp.^2, compares the shape of the\nOmphalos with a _thesaurus_, i.e. with one of the vaulted buildings\nwhich used to be called treasuries, but which have now been\nundoubtedly proved to be really vaulted graves. On a smaller scale\n(as vase paintings show) the ~omphalo/s~ had the shape generally\ngiven to the dwelling-places made for the spirits of the departed\nwho dwelt below the earth, as well as that of the abodes of other\nearth-spirits; even the ~cha/sma g\u00ea=s~ over the cavern of Trophonios\nwas of this shape, Paus. 9, 39, 10. Was this dome-shape especially\nconnected with earth-spirits who had mantic powers? The Delphic\n\"omphalos\" was even used as a technical expression to describe this\n\"tholos\" shape; thus the ~omphaloi/~ (of ~phia/lai~) ~kai\\ t\u00f4=n\nbalanei/\u00f4n hoi _tho/loi_ paro/moioi~, Ath. 501 D. E. (cf. Hesych.\n~Balaneiompha/lous~, _AB._ 225, 6). It was called ~omphalo/s G\u00ea=s~\nbecause sacred to the earth-goddess. It was later interpreted\n\"navel\", i.e. middle point of the earth, by mistake, and then\nfabulous accounts made up to explain this.]\n\n[32\\3: Modern writers have adopted the view that Dionysos was buried\nunder the Omphalos: e.g. Enmann, _Kypros u. Ursp. Aphrod._, S.\nPetersb., 1886, p. 47 ff. But closer examination shows that all that\nwe have good authority for is that the ~omphalo/s~ was _Pythonis\ntumulus_ (Varro, _LL._ vii, 17, p. 124 Sp.), ~ta/phos tou=\nPu/th\u00f4nos~ (Hesych. s. ~Toxi/ou bouno/s~). _Dionysos_, on the other\nhand, was buried at Delphi, ~para\\ to\\n Apo/ll\u00f4na to\\n chrusou=n~\n(Philochoros ap. Sync. 307, 4 ff. Di.; Eus. Arm. = Hier. _Chr._, pp.\n44-5 Sch.; Malal., p. 45, 7 Di., from Africanus acc. to Gelzer,\n_Afric._ i, 132 f.), i.e. he was buried in the ~a/duton~ (cf. Paus.\n10, 24, 5), or, what comes to the same thing, ~para\\ to\\\nchr\u00east\u00ea/rion~ (Plu., _Is. et O._ 35, 365 A.), ~para\\ to\\n tri/poda~\n(Call. ap. Tz. Lyc. 208; cf. _E.M._ ~Delphoi/~). The tripod stood in\nthe Adyton (D.S. 16, 26; Str. 419; cf. Hdt. vii, 140). Whether the\n~omphalo/s~ also stood in the Adyton (or whether as some think, in\nthe _Cella_ of the Temple) cannot be made out for certain though it\nseems probable. No one, however, made the grave of Dionysos under\nthe Omphalos except Tat., _Gr._ viii, p. 40 Ott. [p. 9, 16 ff.\nSchw.]: ~ho omphalo\\s ta/phos esti\\ Dionu/sou~, and the statement of\nthis very careless pamphleteer cannot stand against the witness of\nVarro, etc. It is plain that Tatian confused the two \"graves\", as\nHyg. 140 and Serv. (_A._ iii, 92; iii, 360; vi, 347) did, reversing\nthe process and making the tripod into the grave of the Python. The\nreal tradition knew, besides the grave of Dionysos near the tripod,\nthe grave of Python in the Omphalos of his mother Gaia. This was\nnever seriously denied; doubt might rather have been believed to\nlinger over the question, who then was preserved in the tripod?\nPorph., _VP._ 18, p. 25, 6 ff. N., says that it was Apollo himself,\nor possibly _an_ Apollo the son of Silenos. This absurdity seems to\ngo back to Euhemeros (cf. Minuc. xxi, 1; worthless is Fulgentius\n_Expos._, 2, p. 769 Stav. = p. 112, 3 ff. Helm), and may be merely a\nfrivolous jest. (Too much respect is paid to this tradition by K. O.\nM\u00fcller, _Introd. to Scient. Myth._, p. 246.)] {111}\n\n[33\\3: That the snake killed by Apollo was the guardian of the old\n~mantei=on chtho/nion~ we have on unimpeachable authority (testim.\ncollected by Th. Schreiber, _Apollo Pythoktonos_, p. 3): esp. Eur.,\n_IT._ 1245 ff. Call., _fr._ 364; ~poi\u00eatai/~ acc. to Paus. 10, 6, 6,\nwho say that ~(to\\n Pu/th\u00f4na) epi\\ t\u00f4=| mantei/\u00f4| phu/laka hupo\\ G\u00ea=s\nteta/chthai ktl.~ That the struggle was for the oracle is shown\nbriefly and plainly by [Apollod.] 1, 4, 1, 3: ~h\u00f4s de\\ ho phrour\u00f4=n\nto\\ mantei=on Pu/th\u00f4n o/phis ek\u00f4/luen auto\\n (Apo/ll\u00f4na) parelthei=n\nepi\\ to\\ cha/sma~ (the oracular cleft), ~tou=ton anel\u00f4/n to\\\nmantei=on paralamba/nei~. The snake form is proper to earth-spirits,\nand, as earth-spirits always have mantic power, to oracle-spirits.\nTrophonios appeared as a snake and so did Asklepios. There can be no\ndoubt that the Delphian ~dra/k\u00f4n~ is the embodiment of the\npre-Apolline oracle-daimon. Thus Hesych. says exactly ~Pu/th\u00f4n\ndaimo/nion mantiko/n~ (elaborated in Hyg. 140). Cf. _Act._\n16^16.--Supporters of the doctrine of the Greek \"religion of Nature\"\nfind even in the legend of Apollo's fight with the snake an\nallegorical version of a physical fact tending to become an ethical\none. I cannot regard such an allegory as primitive.]\n\n[34\\3: An instructive parallel may be added. In [Clem.] _Hom._ 5,\n22, p. 70, 32 Lag., there is mention of a _grave_ of Plouton ~en\nt\u00ea=| Acherousi/a| li/mn\u00ea|~. This may be explained as follows. At\nHermione Hades under the name of Klymenos was honoured together with\nDemeter ~Chthoni/a~ and Kore. Pausanias knew well that Klymenos was\na titular name (~epi/kl\u00easis~) of Hades (2, 35, 9), but his rejection\nof the opinion that Klymenos was a man from Argos who had come to\nHermione (as founder of the Chthonic cult) shows that this was the\ngeneral view. Behind the temple of Chthonia lay ~ch\u00f4ri/a ha\\\nkalou=sin Hermionei=s to\\ me\\n Klume/nou, to\\ de\\ Plou/t\u00f4nos, to\\\ntri/ton de\\ aut\u00f4n _li/mn\u00ean Acherousi/an_~. At this ~li/mn\u00ea\nAcherousi/a~ it is possible that a _grave_ of Hades, transformed\ninto the Hero Klymenos, may have been shown. This Clemens referred\nto, but instead of Klymenos or Hades used inaccurately the name more\nfamiliar to later times, Plouton.]\n\n[35\\3: ~ka\\d d' en Ath\u00ea/n\u00ea|s' ei=sen, he\u00f4=| eni\\ pi/oni n\u00ea\u00f4=|~.\nThese words may be kept in mind in order to explain the mysterious\nnarrative in Hesiod _Th._ 987 ff. of Phaethon whom Aphrodite ~\u00f4=rt'\nanereipsame/n\u00ea kai/ min zathe/ois eni\\ n\u00ea/ois n\u00eaopo/lon mu/chion\npoi\u00ea/sato, dai/mona di=on~. Aphr., in fact. \"translated\" Phaethon\nalive and made him immortal--within her own temple just as Athene\nhad Erechtheus. Perhaps Phaethon was translated beneath the ground\nunder the temple--the adj. ~mu/chion~ may mean this. ~theoi\\\nmu/chioi~ are those that rule over the ~mucho/s~ of a house, e.g.\nover the ~tha/lamos~ as the inmost chamber: thus ~Aphrodi/t\u00ea\nmuchi/a~ (Ael., _HA._ x, 34). ~L\u00eat\u00f4\\ muchi/a~ (Plu. ap. Eus., _PE._\niii, 1, 3, p. 84 c.). A goddess called simply ~Muchi/a~, ins. fr.\nMytilene, _GDI._ 255. But ~mu/chioi~ could also mean dwellers in the\ndepths of the earth (~much\u00f4=| chthono\\s euruodei/\u00eas~, Hes., _Th._\n119; more commonly in the plural ~muchoi\\ chthono/s~, see Markland\non Eur., _Sup._ 545; cf. ~A/\u00efdos mucho/s~, _AP._ vii, 213, 6\n(Archias); also ~mucho\\s eusebe/\u00f4n, athana/t\u00f4n~ under the earth,\n_Epigr. Gr._ 241 _a_, 18; 658 _a_; _Rh. Mus._ 34, 192). Thus (of the\nErinyes) Orph. _H._ 69, 3, ~mu/chiai, hupo\\ keu/thesin oiki/'\ne/chousai a/ntr\u00f4| en \u00eaero/enti~. Phot. 274, 18, ~mucho/pedon; g\u00ea=s\nba/thos, Ha/id\u00eas.~]\n\n[36\\3: That the ~mi/n~ of line 550 refers to Erechtheus and not\nAthene is shown by the context: Schol. BL. states it expressly.\nAthene cannot have been intended to accept the offering of bulls and\nrams, for ~th\u00ea/lea t\u00ea=| Ath\u00eana=| thu/ousin~. And, in fact, cows, not\nbulls, were offered to Athene; cf. P. Stengel, _quaest. sacr._, p.\n4-5, Berl. 1879.]\n\n[37\\3: See Wachsmuth, _Ber. s\u00e4chs. Ges. Wiss._, p. 399 ff., 1887.]\n{112}\n\n[38\\3: Thus there was, at the temple of Palaimon on the Isthmus, an\n~a/duton kalou/menon, ka/thodos de\\ es auto\\ hupo/ge\u00f4s, e/ntha d\u00ea\\\nto\\n Palai/mona _kekru/phthai_~ (i.e. not dead and buried)\n~phasi/n~. Paus. 2, 2, 1.]\n\n[39\\3: ~cha/sma kru/ptei chthono/s~, Eur. _Ion_, 292.--Erechtheus ab\nIove Neptuni rogatu fulmine est ictus, Hyg. 46. That is only another\nkind of translation.]\n\n[40\\3: We need not here speak of the relationship between Erechtheus\nand Poseidon, with whom he was eventually merged.]\n\n[41\\3: Clem. Al. _Protr._ iii, p. 39 P. (with Arnob. and the others\nwho copy him); [Apollod.] 3, 14, 7, 1. Clemens (quoting Antiochos of\nSyracuse mentions a grave of Kekrops on the citadel. It is uncertain\nwhat is the relation between this and the ~Kekro/pion~ known from\ninsc. _CIA._ i, 322, and ~to\\ tou= Ke/kropos hiero/n~ on the citadel\n(Decree honouring the Epheboi of the tribe Kekropis in the year 333:\n_BCH._ '89, p. 257. l. 10).]\n\n[42\\3: ~Huakinthi/ois pro\\ t\u00ea=s tou= Apo/ll\u00f4nos thusi/as es tou=ton\nHuaki/nth\u00f4| to\\n b\u00f4mo\\n dia\\ thu/ras chalk\u00ea=s enagi/zousin; en\naristera=| de/ estin h\u00ea thu/ra tou= b\u00f4mou=~. Paus. 3, 19, 3. We\nshall meet with similar examples in treating of the sacrifices made\nto Heroes. This naive sacrificial rite regularly presumes the\nphysical presence of the god or \"spirit\" in the place underground\ninto which the offerings are poured or thrown (as in the ~me/gara~\nof Demeter and Kore, etc.).]\n\n[43\\3: The story of Hyakinthos is found in its familiar form in the\npoets of the Hellenistic period and their imitators, Nikander, Bion,\nOvid, etc.: already Simmias and Euphorion had told it (see Welcker,\n_Kl. Sch._ i, 24 ff.; and G. Knaack, _Anal. Alexandrino-romana_, p.\n60 ff.). It may even reach back to earlier times; the death of H.\ncaused by Apollo's discus-throw is mentioned by Eur., _Hel._ 1472\nff., though he does not speak of the love of Apollo for H. As the\nstory was generally given, and, indeed, as it had already been\nimplicitly told by Nikias, it had no local colouring and no\nimportance as local legend. It was not ever even an aetiological\nmyth for it could only account in the most general way for the\nmelancholy character of the Hyakinthos festival and not at all for\nthe peculiar features of its ritual. It is an erotic myth leading up\nto a metamorphosis, like so many others of its kind, in substance,\nit is true, closely related the Linos myth, etc., with which it is\ngenerally compared--and in accordance with the fashionable theory\ninterpreted as an allegory of the spring blossom fading beneath the\nheat of the sun. It is, in fact, a regular mythological theme (the\ndeath through the cast of the discus occurring for example in the\nstories of Akrisios, Kanobos, Krokos [see Haupt, _Opusc._ iii, 574\nf. In Philo ap. Galen, xiii, 268, read v. 13 ~\u00ea\u00efthe/oio~, v. 15\nperhaps ~kei/nou d\u00ea\\ stathmo/n~]). We cannot tell how far the flower\nHyakinthos had anything to do with the Amyklaian Hyakinthos (cf.\nHemsterhuis, _Lucian_ ii, p. 291 Bip.); perhaps nothing at\nall--there were no hyacinths used in the Hyakinthia. The similarity\nof the name may have suggested this addition to the metamorphosis\nstory to the Hellenistic poets.]\n\n[44\\3: Certainly not as Apollo's ~er\u00f4/menos~ (as which Hauser,\n_Philol._ 52, 218, in spite of the beard, regards the Hyakinthos of\nthe Amyklaian altar). Bearded ~paidika/~ are unthinkable as every\nreader of the Anth. Pal. knows. The most ancient form of the story,\nas implied in the sculpture at Amyklai, neither knows anything of\nthe love of Apollo and Hyakinthos nor consequently of the latter's\nearly death, etc.]\n\n[45\\3: The ~Huakinthi/des~ at Athens were regarded as the daughters\n(strangely migrated to Athens) of the \"Lacedaemonian\" Hyakinthos.\ni.e. the one buried in Amyklai. See St. Byz. ~Lousi/a~; Harp. {113}\n~Huakinthi/des~; [Apollod.] 3, 15, 8, 5-6; Hyg. 238 (Phanodemos ap.\nSuid. ~Parthe/noi~ arbitrarily identifies the ~Huakinthi/des~ with\nthe ~Hua/des~ or daughters of Erechtheus. So also [Dem.] 60, 27).\nThis idea implies a form of the story in which Hyak. did not die\nwhile still a boy or a half-grown youth as in the metamorphosis\nversion.--That the figure of Hyakinthos on the sculpture at Amyklai\nhad a beard is expressly mentioned by Paus. 3, 19, 4, as conflicting\nwith the fresh youthfulness of Hyakinthos as Nikias (second half\nfourth century) with reference to the love-story had represented him\nin his famous picture (~pr\u00f4th\u00ea/b\u00ean Hua/kinthon~, Nic., _Th._ 905).\nPaus. \u00a7 5, expressly raises a doubt as to the truth of the\ntraditional fable about H.'s death.]\n\n[46\\3: ~pro\\ t\u00ea=s tou= Apo/ll\u00f4nos thusi/as~ Paus. 3, 19, 3. More\nthan once it is stated that at a particular festival sacrifice to\nthe Hero preceded that to the god (cf. Wassner, _de heroum ap. Gr.\ncultu_, p. 48 ff.). Probably the reason in all such cases is that\nthe cult of the \"Hero\" (or god turned Hero is _older_ in that\nparticular spot than the worship of the god whose cult had only been\nadopted there at a later time. Thus in Plataea at the Daidalia\nsacrifice was made to Leto before Hera (~prothu/esthai~): Plu. ap.\nEus., _PE._ iii, 84 C: there it is quite evident that the cult of\nHera was adopted later. Perhaps even the form of the word\n~Hua/kinthos~ implies that it was the name of an ancient deity\nworshipped already by the pre-Greek inhabitants of the Peloponnese.\nSee Kretschmer, _Einl. in Gesch. gr. Spr._ 402-5.]\n\n[47\\3: ~Huaki/nth\u00f4| enagi/zousin~, Paus. 3, 19, 3.]\n\n[48\\3: The second day of the festival was sacred to Apollo and not\nto Hyakinthos: ~to\\n theo\\n a/|dousin~ Ath. 139 E. (It has been\nrightly said that this was when the ~paia/n~ mentioned by Xen.,\n_HG._ 4, 5, 11, must have been sung.) It is impossible to deny, with\nUnger, _Philol._ 37, 30, the cheerful character of this second day\nof the festival as described by Polykrates ap. Ath. 139 E, F. It is\ntrue that Didymus (whose words Athenaeus is quoting) begins in a way\n(139 D) that might lead one to suppose that all three days of the\n~t\u00f4=n Huakinthi/\u00f4n thusi/a dia\\ to\\ pe/nthos to\\ geno/menon\n(gino/menon?) peri\\ to\\n Hua/kinthon~ were passed in gloom without\nfestivity, crowns, feasting, or Paean, etc. But he refutes himself\nafterwards in his description of the second day of the festival, at\nwhich not merely at the performances but at the sacrifice and the\nbanquetings festivity reigns supreme. We can only suppose that his\nlanguage at the beginning is inaccurate, and that he means what he\nsays of the solemnity of the occasion \"because of the mourning for\nHyakinthos\" to be taken as limited like the mourning itself to the\nfirst day of the feast.]\n\n[49\\3: Hesych. ~Polu/boia; theo/s tis hup' eni/\u00f4n A/rtemis, hupo\\\nde\\ a/ll\u00f4n Ko/r\u00ea~. Cf. K. O. M\u00fcller, _Dorians_, i, 361 (~A/rtemis~\nthere probably as Hekate).]\n\n[50\\3: Another view of the combined worship of Apollo and Hyakinthos\nat Amyklai is taken by Enmann, _Kypros_, etc., 35. In this as\nelsewhere he relies on certain opinions adopted from H. D. M\u00fcller's\nmythological writings, which must be approved of in general before\nthey can be found enlightening as applied to any particular case.]\n\n[51\\3: As happened in the case of Hyakinthos, too, in the scene\nrepresented on the Amyklaian altar, Paus. 3, 19, though nothing can\nbe deduced from this as to his original nature.]\n\n[52\\3: The oracular activity of Asklepios plays a subordinate part\nin the usual accounts of him in comparison with his powers of\nhealing. But originally they were closely united (as was usually the\ncase with earth spirits). Apollodorus ~p. the\u00f4=n~ ap. Macrob. 1, 20,\n4, puts it {114} distinctly: scribit quod Aesculapius divinationibus\net auguriis praesit. Celsus calls Asklepios ~euergetou=nta kai\\ ta\\\nme/llonta prole/gonta ho/lais po/lesin anakeime/nais heaut\u00f4=|~, Or.,\n_Cels._ iii, 3, pp. 255-6 L.]\n\n[53\\3: See Appendix I.]\n\n[54\\3: Cicero quoting the pragmatical \"_theologi_\" says, _ND._ iii,\n57, Aesculapius (the second one fulmine percussus dicitur humatus\nesse Cynosuris (the district of Sparta? From a similar source come\nClem. Al., _Protr._ ii, p. 26 P.; Lyd., _Mens._ iv, 90, p. 164\nW\u00fcnsch); of the third Askl., Cic. \u00a7 57 says: cuius in Arcadia non\nlonge a Lusio flumine sepulcrum et lucus ostenditur. Even the temple\nof Asklepios in Epidauros was regarded by many as the place of his\ngrave if we are to believe the Clementine _Hom._ v, 21, _Rec._ x, 24\n(sepulcrum demonstrator in Epidauro Aesculapii).]\n\n[55\\3: The chthonic character of Asklepios is shown specially by the\nfact that not only are snakes sacred and dedicated to him but that\nhe himself was actually thought of as a snake (cf. Welcker,\n_G\u00f6tterl._ ii, 734). ~o/phis, G\u00ea=s pai=s~ (Hdt. i, 78); deities who\ndwell in the earth, and afterwards \"Heroes\" (in the later sense),\nappear in the form of snakes as ~chtho/nioi~. Since such\nearth-spirits generally have oracular powers the snake is an\noracular animal; but that is a secondary development. The offer of a\ncock, too (as by Sokrates before his departure to the underworld),\npoints to the chthonic character of Ask., for it was a sacrifice\nalso made to Heroes. Thus the ~h\u00ear\u00f4=|a~ at Athens were frequented by\nthe priests of Asklepios (_CIA._ ii, 453 b); cf. K\u00f6hler, _Ath.\nMitth._ vol. ii, 245 f. (Sacrificial pit, ~bo/thros~, for this\nchthonic worship in the Asklepieion at Athens? see K\u00f6hler, ib.\n254.)]\n\n[56\\3: The connexion between Amphiaraos and Asklepios is shown also\nby the fact that Iaso, one of the allegorical figures attached to\nAsklepios, though generally the daughter of Askl. (e.g. _EM._ 434,\n17 ~Ias\u00f4/~ with Sylb.; cf. Herond. iv, 6), was probably also\nregarded as the daughter of Amph.: Sch. Ar., _Plut._ 701. Hesych.\ns.v. (her portrait in the temple at Oropos, Paus. 1, 34, 3). So,\ntoo, ~A/lkandros~ the son of Trophonios (Charax. ap. Schol. Ar.,\n_Nub._, 508, p. 500 Bk.) seems to be the same as ~A/lk\u00f4n~, the\nAsklepiad daimon whose priest Sophokles was. The portraits of\nTrophonios followed the type of the Asklepios statues: Paus. 9, 39,\n3-4. Troph. son of Valens (= Ischys) and Koronis, and brother of\nAsklepios: Cic., _ND._ iii, 56, acc. to the _theologi_. With good\nreason, considering their intrinsic affinity, Trophonios,\nAmphiaraos, Amphilochos, and the Asklepiadai are mentioned side by\nside by Aristid. i, p. 78 D.]\n\n[57\\3: Sulla counted Amphiaraos a \"god\" and hence the territory\nbelonging to his temple at Oropos was excepted from the lease for\nthe collection of taxes granted to the Roman _publicani_. The Roman\nSenate allowed this to stand, ins. from Oropos ~Eph. Arch.~, 1884,\np. 101 ff.; _Hermes_, 20, 268 ff.; the publicani had denied\nimmortalis esse ullos qui aliquando homines fuissent, Cic., _ND._\niii, 49. Thus only the fact that he was _now_ a god was claimed by\nthe other side--it was not denied that he had once been a mortal.\nPaus. again 8, 2, 4, mentions Amph. among the ~theoi/~ who\n~egi/nonto ex anthr\u00f4/p\u00f4n~; so too Varro ap. Serv. _A._ viii, 275;\ncf. Apul., _D. Soc._ 15 fin.; also Philo, _Leg. ad Gaium_, \u00a7 78, ii,\np. 557 M.]\n\n\n{{115}}\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nHEROES\n\n\u00a7 1\n\nWhen about the year 620 Drakon at Athens for the first time\ncollected and committed to writing the customary law of his country\nhe also ordained that the gods and the national Heroes should be\nhonoured together according to ancestral usage.[1\\4]\n\nWe are thus for the first time introduced to _Heroes_ as beings of a\nhigher kind, mentioned side by side with the gods, and like them to\nbe worshipped with regularly offered sacrifice. Their cult, like\nthat of the gods, is by implication of long standing: it does not\nhave to be reorganized, but is merely established in the form\nancestral ordinances had given it. We see at this turning-point of\nGreek religious development how defective our knowledge is of the\nhistory of religious ideas in primitive Greece. This is our earliest\nrecord, and it has been preserved to us by a mere accident, but it\npoints backwards and beyond itself to a long previous history in the\nworship of such guardian deities of the country--of which, however,\nwe have hardly a scrap of early evidence.[2\\4] We should in fact,\nfrom the meagre remains of the literature that is so important from\nthis point of view, especially the lyric poetry of the seventh and\nearly sixth centuries, hardly have derived a suspicion of the\nexistence of this quite un-Homeric element in the religious life of\nGreece.[3\\4] When at last the stream of surviving literature begins\nto flow more broadly, then, indeed, the Heroes are often referred\nto. Pindar's Hymns of Victory and Herodotos' History cover the\ngenerations that lived through the Persian wars and the following\nfifty years. From them we can see with overwhelming distinctness how\nstrong at that time was the belief in the existence and potency of\nHeroes even among men of education who had not been too much\ninfluenced by the fashionable enlightenment of the time. In the\nbeliefs of the people, in the religious customs of countries and\ncities, the national Heroes have their recognized place beside the\ngods. The representatives of states swear by the gods and the Heroes\nof the country:[4\\4] it is to the gods and Heroes of Greece that the\npious attribute the victory over the Barbarians.[5\\4] So well\nestablished, indeed, was the validity of the Greek belief in Heroes\nthat even the Persian magi in the army of Xerxes made libation by\nnight in the Troad to the Heroes buried there.[6\\4] {116}\n\n\u00a7 2\n\nIf now we inquire into the nature and essence of this species of\nhigher beings that was as yet unknown to, or disregarded by, the\nepic we get little information on the subject from direct statements\nas to their nature by writers of antiquity. We can, however, learn a\ngreat deal about them from what we are told of individual Heroes and\nmore particularly from what we know of the peculiar nature of the\nreligious worship paid to them.[7\\4] The Heroes were worshipped with\nsacrifice like the gods; but these sacrifices were very different\nfrom the offerings that were made to the Olympians.[8\\4] They differ\nin time, place, and character. Sacrifice was made to the gods in\nbroad daylight, to Heroes towards evening or at night;[9\\4] and not\non raised altars, but on low, and sometimes hollow, sacrificial\nhearths close to the ground.[10\\4] For them were slain animals of\nblack colour and male sex,[11\\4] and in sacrificing, the heads of\nthe animals were not turned upwards towards heaven as they were when\noffered to the gods, but were bent down to the ground.[12\\4] The\nblood of these animals was allowed to run down into the ground or\ninto the sacrificial hearth, that the Heroes might have their\n\"appeasement of blood\".[13\\4] The carcass was completely burnt, for\nno living man might taste of it.[14\\4] This peculiar mode of\nworshipping the Heroes was in strict usage described by a different\nname from that used of the sacrifices to the gods.[15\\4] On special\noccasions a sacrificial meal of cooked food was prepared, to which\nthe Hero was invited as a guest.[16\\4] They are near by in the earth\nitself, and there is no need in their case, as for the Olympians, to\nsend up the savour of sacrifice in smoke to heaven.\n\nThis sacrificial ritual is in those features which distinguish it\nfrom that commonly in use for the gods of Olympos precisely\nidentical with that by which the gods who dwelt under the earth,\nand, later, even the souls of dead men, were honoured. This will\nseem quite natural if we regard the Heroes as closely related to the\nchthonic deities on the one hand, and to the dead on the other. In\nfact, they are nothing else than the spirits of dead men who now\ndwell beneath the earth, immortal like the gods of that underworld,\nand almost equal to them in power. Their real nature as the souls of\ngreat men of the past, who have died but have not been deprived of\nconscious existence, is made plain by another mode of doing honour\nto them originally belonging to them and them only--I mean the\nyearly repeated celebration of Funeral Games.\n\nAthletic contests for chieftains at the funeral of a prominent {117}\none of their number were known to Homer, and we have already\nreferred to them among other relics in epic poetry of a once\npowerful cult of souls.[17\\4] But Homer knew nothing of their\nrepetition, and certainly not of an annual recurrence of such\nfuneral celebrations.[18\\4] Games celebrated afresh after the lapse\nof a definite period became known to the Greeks only when the cult\nof Heroes had reached its maturity. Many of these contests were\nconnected perpetually with the yearly festivals of individual\nHeroes, and were intended to honour their memory.[19\\4] Even in\nhistorical times, generally on the command of the Delphic oracle,\nannual contests were instituted in honour of Heroes.[20\\4] It was\nthe mode of worship proper to Heroes, and men realized that in\nholding such contests they were really repeating the funeral\nceremonies of a dead man.[21\\4] The cult of Heroes was the earliest\nbreeding ground of the Ag\u00f4n, that most characteristic feature of\nGreek life and school of the individualism that made the greatness\nof Greece. It was not unreasonable that afterwards many of the\nvictors at the great Ag\u00f4nes were themselves raised by popular\nsuperstition to the number of the Heroes. The greatest Games of all,\nto which all Greece assembled, the Pythian, Olympian, Nemean, and\nIsthmian, were during the historical period, it is true, celebrated\nin honour of gods; but that they had been originally instituted as\nFuneral Games of Heroes and only subsequently transferred to higher\nguardianship was, at any rate, the general opinion of\nantiquity.[22\\4]\n\n\u00a7 3\n\nThe Heroes are, then, spirits of the dead, and not a species of\ninferior deities or \"demigods\";[23\\4] and quite distinct again from\nthe \"daimones\" known to later speculative thought and, indeed, to\npopular superstition. These latter are divine spirits of a lower\norder; but spirits which have always been exempt from death because\nthey have never entered into the finite existence of men. The Heroes\non the other hand have once been living men; from being men they\nhave _become_ Heroes, and that only after their death.[24\\4]\nFurthermore, they have now entered upon a higher stage of existence\nas a special class of beings who are named by the _side_ of gods and\nmen.[25\\4] In them we meet with something quite unknown to the\nHomeric poems--_souls_ which after their death and separation from\nthe body have a higher imperishable life.\n\nBut though the Heroes have once been men, it does not follow that\nall men become Heroes after their death. On the contrary, the\nHeroes, even though their number was not fixed {118} and limited,\nbut continually admitted additions, remained an _exception_, a\nselect minority which for that reason alone can be contrasted with\nordinary humanity. The chief figures, the outstanding\nrepresentatives of this heroic company, we may say, were those whose\nlifetime was fixed by legend or history in the distant past--who\nwere in fact the ancestors of later humanity. The worship of Heroes\nis not, then, a cult of souls, but in a narrower sense a cult of\n_ancestors_. Even their name, as it appears, distinguishes the\nHeroes as men of the past. In the Iliad and the Odyssey \"Hero\" is\nthe honourable title of chieftains, and also, generally, of all free\nmen.[26\\4] Poetry of later centuries, so far as it touched upon the\nevents of the legendary past, continued to use the word \"Hero\" in\nthis sense. But when in post-Homeric times the speaker, whether he\nis a poet or prose-writer, regards the matter from the point of view\nof contemporary life, then by \"Hero\", if he is referring to a man at\nall, he means a man of those days when, according to the Homeric\npoems, this honourable title was still in use among living men--he\nrefers in a word to men belonging to the legendary _past_ celebrated\nin poetry.[27\\4] In Hesiod's narrative of the Five Ages of Men, the\nuse of the word Hero is confined to the Champions of the wars at\nThebes and Troy; they are called, as though by their special name,\nthe \"divine race of Heroes\".[28\\4] For Hesiod the \"Heroes\" are by no\nmeans the transfigured dead of past generations.[29\\4] He knows well\nenough of such transfigured dead of a still earlier past, but these\nhe calls \"Daimones\". And so, too, when in after times the name of\nHero is applied to these favoured individuals who enjoy a higher\nlife after their death, the name which in itself did not imply the\nhigher nature of such departed spirits is evidently intended to show\nthat the _lifetime_ of those who had received this privilege after\ntheir death occurred in a legendary past. As these men of the\ndistant past had been \"Heroes\" during their life, so, too, they must\nbe called after their death. But the meaning of the word Hero has\nundergone a change, and now contains the additional notion of\nunending transfigured existence. The worship of the Heroes reveals\nitself as something quite new, a form of religious belief and cult,\nof which the Homeric poems at least gave no inkling. And, indeed,\nthe conception of such transfigured ancestral souls living on in a\nhigher state must have been a novel one, if no special word of\nancient coinage could be found to express it, and a long-standing\nword of the epic vocabulary had to be pressed into a new sense.\n\nWhence came this new thing? If we try to derive it from {119} a\nnatural process of development in the Homeric view of life we shall\nfind ourselves in the greatest perplexity when it comes to showing\nthe connecting links between two such widely different conceptions.\nIt would not avail us much to say that the prestige of the epic was\nsuch that those whom it had honoured in song must have appeared so\nglorious and distinguished among mankind that it was natural for\nlater imagination to transform them to demigods and to worship them\nas such. The Homeric poems, so violently opposed to any idea of a\nconscious or active existence of the soul after death, could hardly\nhave brought it about that those very champions whom it had\nrepresented as indeed dead and departed to the distant land of Hades\nshould be regarded as still living and exercising an influence from\nout their graves. Moreover, it is in the highest degree improbable\nthat in the process of historical development it should have been\njust the champions of the epic from whose worship the cult of Heroes\narose; for in cult, at any rate, with negligible exceptions, those\nchampions played little part. And, indeed, that any cult at all\nshould have arisen from the mere suggestions of fancy, such as the\nepic offered, is in itself unlikely. And it is essentially upon a\nreligious cult that the belief in Heroes is founded.\n\nIn fact after all that has been hitherto shown, what we see most\nplainly is the _contrast_ between the belief in Heroes and Homeric\nconceptions. The fanciful thought of the translation of individuals\nto Islands of the Blest or the underground dwellings did not itself\nconflict with the implications of Homeric eschatology. The\nmiraculous preservation in an immortal existence of men whom the\ngods loved did not involve the separation of soul from body, nor the\nconsequence of that separation--the dim borderland existence of the\ndisembodied soul. But the belief in Heroes was a different matter;\nthat involved the continuation of a conscious mode of being, in the\nneighbourhood of the living, after death, and in spite of the\nseparation of soul from body. This directly contradicts Homeric\npsychology. We should have to give up the attempt altogether to\nbring this new belief into any real relationship with earlier\ndevelopment--if we could not draw upon what we have learnt from our\nprevious investigations. In the Homeric poems themselves, in\nstriking contrast with the general conception there prevailing of\nthe insubstantiality of the disembodied soul, we found vestiges of a\nonce-vigorous _cult of the soul_ which implied the existence of a\ncorresponding belief in the conscious after-life of the soul and its\nlingering {120} in the neighbourhood of the living. From the study\nof Hesiod's picture of the Five Ages of Men, we saw that, in fact,\nvestiges of an ancient belief in the continued and enhanced\nexistence of dead men, of which no clear trace remained in Homer,\nhad been preserved at least in occasional remote corners of the\nGreek countryside. But it was only the dead of a legendary past who\nwere regarded by Hesiod as \"Daimones\": the poet could relate no\nsimilar marvels from more recent periods, and still less of men in\nhis own lifetime. Thus, we have in this case traces of\n_ancestor-worship_ indeed, but not of a general worship of souls\nthat is elsewhere the normal development of the worship of\nancestors. So, then, in the worship of Heroes, what we have before\nus is not a general cult of the soul but a cult of ancestors. We may\nexpress the matter in this way: in the cult of the \"Hero\" a still\nburning spark of ancient belief is kindled to renewed flame--it is\nnot the appearance of something entirely strange and new, but\nsomething long past and half-forgotten is awakened to new life.\nThose Daimones which arose from the men of the earlier golden and\nsilver ages--whom the poet of the \"Works and Days\" had situated in\nthe dimmest and remotest past--what are they but the \"Heroes\"\nworshipped by later ages under a new name and brought down nearer to\nthe period of contemporary life?\n\n\u00a7 4\n\nHow it came about that the cult of ancestors was rescued from\npartial, and more than partial, oblivion, and rose to a new and\nlasting importance, that, indeed, we cannot say. We can give no real\nexplanation indicative of the origin and progress of this important\ndevelopment in Greek religious life. We know neither the time nor\nthe place of the first serious revival of this newly awakened\nprimitive worship; nor can we tell the manner or stages of its\ndiffusion during those obscure years of the eighth and seventh\ncenturies. We can, however, bring the fact of the revival of\nancestor-worship into relation with a number of other facts which\nprove that during those years many hitherto buried or repressed\nideas about the life of gods and men came to the surface again out\nof the depths of popular faith and out of an older worship of the\ngods that had never quite died out. This revival did not, indeed,\nsuppress the Homeric view entirely--that never occurred--but it did\nset itself on a level with that view. The great movement with which\nwe shall be dealing in the next chapter also contributed to the\nprogress of the belief in Heroes. Many other favouring {121}\ncircumstances may in detail have helped to strengthen that belief.\nEven the epic itself had in one point at least approached the ideas\nthat were receiving a new life in the worship of Heroes. Many of the\nlocal gods who had faded before the new deities of common Hellenic\nbelief had been reduced to the rank of humanity and joined in heroic\nadventure. By a sort of compromise effected with the local cult of\nsuch gods the epic poets had been led, in a few cases, to the\ncreation of a remarkable series of figures in which the divine and\nthe human was wonderfully mixed. These champions and seers of old\ntime, as they had once been mortal men among other men, so now after\ntheir departure must they live on and have influence eternally like\nthe gods. We can easily see the close resemblance that exists\nbetween such figures as Amphiaraos or Trophonios and the Heroes of\nlater belief; in fact, both of them, when they were not called gods,\nwere frequently reckoned among these Heroes. But for all that, they\nare only _quasi-Heroes_; prototypes of the real Heroes they can\nnever have been. They have been translated during their lifetime,\nand live on immortally just because they have never tasted death.\nThey, with those others translated to the Islands of the Blest,\nrepresent the idea of immortality in the only form recognized by the\nHomeric poetry. The Heroes of the newly awakening creed, on the\ncontrary, have died unmistakably; and yet they continue to live on,\nthough relieved of their bodies. They are entirely distinct from the\ntranslated few of the epic tradition. They emerge out of the\nobscurity of the half-remembered past as something strange--as\nsomething, indeed, opposed to the circle of ideas influenced by the\nepic.\n\nIt was not from poetic imagination or story that the Heroes took\ntheir origin, but from the remains of an ancient pre-Homeric belief\nwhich local worship had preserved alive.\n\n\u00a7 5\n\nThe worship of a Hero is everywhere connected with the site of his\ngrave. That is the general rule proved in innumerable cases. That is\nwhy in the case of a more than ordinarily revered Hero, his grave as\nthe centre of his worship is set up in some prominent and honourable\nplace--the market-place of the city, the Prytaneion,[30\\4] or, like\nthe grave of Pelops in the Altis at Olympia, in the very middle of\nthe holy precinct, in the thick of the festival crowd.[31\\4] Or else\nthe Hero who guarded the city and the land might have his grave in\nthe wall of the city gate or upon the farthest border of its\nterritory.[32\\4] Where his grave is, there the Hero is fast bound;\nthat is his {122} dwelling-place.[33\\4] This idea prevails\neverywhere, though it may not be given such blunt expression as at\nTronis, in the country of the Phocians, where the blood of the\noffering made to the Hero was poured down through an opening\nimmediately into his grave mound.[34\\4] It is implied, as a rule, in\nthese cases that the grave contains the bones of the Hero. The\nbones--all that is left of his mortality--chain the Hero to his\ngrave. Hence, when it was thought desirable to attach a Hero and his\nprotective power to a city his bones (or what were taken for such)\non the command of an oracle were brought from a foreign land and\nlaid to rest in his native country. We possess many accounts of such\ntransference of relics.[35\\4] Most of them occurred in the distant\npast, but we also read how in the full light of history in the year\n476 enlightened Athens brought over the bones of Theseus from\nSkyros;[36\\4] and not until they were buried in the Theseion was\nTheseus properly attached to Athens.\n\nSince the possession of the corporeal remains[37\\4] of the Hero\nsecured the possession of the Hero himself, the cities often\nprotected themselves against strangers, who might remove the\ntreasured bones, by keeping the position of the grave a\nsecret.[38\\4] A grave is always necessary to fix the Hero at a\ndefinite place, or, at least, an \"empty tomb\", which sometimes had\nto do duty for a grave.[39\\4] In such cases the Hero was perhaps\nthought of as bound by a spell to that place.[40\\4] As a rule, it is\nthe remains of his former body that hold him fast. But these remains\nare a part of the Hero himself; though dead (and mummified, as we\nare told in one case),[41\\4] he works and acts just the same; his\npsyche, his invisible counterpart and double, hovers in the\nneighbourhood of the body and the grave.\n\nThese are all very primitive conceptions such as have, as a rule,\nonly been preserved among peoples who have remained at a very\nundeveloped stage of culture.[42\\4] When we find them in force among\nGreeks of post-Homeric times, we cannot really believe that they\narose then for the first time, in complete contrast with the\nclear-sighted freedom of the men of the Homeric age. They have only\nre-emerged from the repressive influence of the Homeric rationalism.\nIt would be natural to think that the same ideas that have been\ndescribed as underlying the belief in Heroes were already in the\nminds of those prehistoric Greeks who in Mycenae and elsewhere took\nsuch care (even it seems going so far as to embalm them)[43\\4] to\npreserve the bodies of their princes from destruction, and who put\nornaments and utensils in their graves for future use {123} or\nenjoyment. It has been explained above how, in the times of which\nHomer's poems give us a picture, the alteration in sentiment as well\nas the spread of the custom of completely destroying the bodies of\nthe dead with fire must have weakened the belief in the confinement\nof the soul to this world and to the remains of the body. This\nbelief never entirely perished. It was preserved alive, perhaps for\na long time only by a few, in those places where there remained a\ncult attached to a _grave_. Such a cult would not, indeed, extend to\nthose whose death had occurred within more recent times, but it did\nnot allow the old-established worship of the great dead of the past\nto die out entirely. Over the royal graves on the citadel at Mycenae\nstood a sacrificial hearth,[44\\4] which bears witness to the\ncontinuance of the ancient worship of the kings buried there. The\nCatalogue of Ships in Homer mentions the \"grave of Aipytos\", an old\nArcadian local monarch, as a landmark of the district;[45\\4] may not\nthe sanctity of that grave have been preserved? In many places, at\nany rate, graves were pointed out and honoured that belonged to\nHeroes who owed their existence solely to poetic fancy or were even\nmere personifications--abstractions of the names of places and\ncountries whose ancestors they purported to be. In such cases the\nHero-worship had become purely symbolic, and often perhaps a mere\nformality. But from such a fictitious ancestor-worship the cult of\nthe graves of Heroes cannot possibly have arisen; such fictions are\nthemselves only intelligible as copies of another and more vivid\nworship, of a cult of real ancestors. If no such cult had existed in\nactual fact before men's eyes, it would be impossible to understand\nhow men came to imitate ancestor-worship in the shape of such purely\nimaginary creatures. A copy implies the existence of a model; a\nsymbol requires the contemporary or earlier existence of the reality\nsymbolized. We should certainly know more of the worship of\nancestors among the ancient royal families if in nearly all the\nGreek states monarchy had not been abolished at an early period and\nall traces of it suppressed. Sparta alone provides us with a\nsolitary example of what may once have been the prevailing custom in\nall the seats of royal authority. When a Spartan king died his\nfuneral was celebrated with extreme pomp. His body (which, even when\nhe had died abroad, was embalmed and brought home to Sparta was laid\nbeside the other dead of his family, and honour was paid to him, in\nXenophon's words, not as a man, but as a _Hero_.[46\\4] In this case,\nwhich undoubtedly represents a traditional usage handed down from\nremote {124} antiquity, we have the rudiments of Hero-worship as\napplied to the dead of a royal family. The members of noble families\nwho, like the Eupatridai of Athens, sometimes traced their descent\nfrom a king,[47\\4] must also have retained from ancient times the\npractice of ancestor-worship. As of all unofficial cults, we hear\nlittle of the cults of the old clans based on blood-relationship and\nconnexion by marriage (~ge/n\u00ea, pa/trai~). But just as out of their\ncombination first the village communities and then the fully\norganized Greek Polis grew up, so, too, the religious cults which\nwere paid to the ancestors of these unions of kinsfolk set a pattern\nfor the manifold social groups out of which the developed state was\nbuilt up.[48\\4]\n\n\u00a7 6\n\nThe \"clans\" that we meet with at Athens and in other Greek states\nare, as a rule, groups for which a demonstrable common kinship is no\nlonger a condition of membership. The majority of such politically\nrecognized, self-contained clans assemble together for the common\nworship of particular gods but many also honour a Hero as well, who\ngenerally in such cases gives his name to the clan. Thus, the\nEteoboutadai at Athens paid honour to Boutes, the Alkmaionidai to\nAlkmaion, the Bouzygai to Bouzyges, in Sparta and Argos Talthybios\nwas worshipped by the Talthybiadai, etc. And in these cases, as the\nname of the clan itself shows, the Hero of their common worship was\nregarded as the _ancestor_ of the clan.[49\\4] Further, this\nancestor-worship and the name derived from a common, even if\nfictitious, ancestor, distinguished the clans from the\ncult-associations of a different origin which since the time of\nKleisthenes had been put on a footing of legal equality with the\nclans in the phratries. The members of these associations (Orgeones)\nlacked a common name, the existence of which, therefore, indicated\nin the case of the members of a clan a closer bond of union than\nmere membership of a religious association which had been chosen at\nwill, and was not decided by the fact of birth.\n\nEverywhere these clans kept up the outward formalities of\nancestor-worship; and the formality must once have had meaning.\nHowever the publicly recognized clans may have developed their own\nspecial characteristics, in their origin, at least, they must go\nback (like the Roman _gentes_) to associations of kinsfolk developed\nfrom the family (extended through the male line and held together by\na real bond of kinship. Even the purely symbolical ancestor-worship\nof the later \"clans\", of which hardly a single one could have shown\nthe {125} pedigree of its descent from the reputed common ancestor,\nmust have arisen from the real ancestor-worship of genuine groups of\nkinsfolk. The imitation in this case, too, points to the existence\nat some time of an original.\n\nIn the same way the larger groups into which the Athenian state\nsince the time of Kleisthenes was divided were unable to dispense\nwith the practice of association for the cult of a commonly\nworshipped Hero. The Heroes of the newly organized _phylai_[50\\4]\nhad their temple, land, priests, statues, and regular cult; and so\nalso had the Heroes of the smaller purely local divisions, the\ndemes. Here, too, the fiction of ancestor-worship was kept up; the\nnames of the phylai, always patronymic in form, represent the\nmembers of each _phyle_ as the descendants of the Hero Eponymos or\nArchegetes of the phyle.[51\\4] The demes also in many cases have\npatronymic titles which for the most part are also known to us as\nthe names of aristocratic families.[52\\4] It is evident that in such\ndemes the members of individual aristocratic families had settled\ndown together or near each other. The Archegetes, whether real or\nfictitious, of the family must then have been regarded as the\nArchegetes of the deme. We thus see how the cult of a family\nancestor, taken over by a wider group of worshippers, might be\npreserved and extended--little as the cult might benefit in\nsincerity by such political enlargement.\n\nThe cult of Heroes everywhere has the same features as the cult of\nancestors; at least, the more influential Heroes, those worshipped\nby the greater communities, were everywhere regarded as the\nforefathers and progenitors of the groups of countryfolk, citizens,\nor kinsmen who honoured them. The fact that the persons of these\nprehistoric Heroes owed their existence almost without exception\nsolely to poetry or fancy allows us to conclude that at the time\nwhen ancestor-worship had its re-birth in Hero-worship, the memory\nof the real Archegetai of the country, the ancestors of the ruling\nfamilies and clans, together with their cult, had fallen into\noblivion. A great or illustrious name was introduced where the real\nname was no longer known. More often, even when the real forefather\nof the clan was still well known, the name of a great man of the\nprimeval past was placed at the head of the list in order to throw\nthe origin of the family as far back into the past as possible and\nconnect it the more closely with a divine source.[53\\4] Men thus\ncame to worship a phantom, often a mere symbol, of an ancestor. But\nthey held fast to the imitation of real ancestor-worship; the\nremains of a true cult of ancestors provided the model and were the\nreal starting-point for the later belief and cult of Heroes. {126}\n\n\u00a7 7\n\nWe can no longer follow in detail the process of development and\nextension which the idea of the Hero underwent. The accounts which\nwe possess show us the fully developed product, not the steps which\nled up to this result. We first get an idea of the number of\nHero-cults existing in Greece during the greatest period of its\nhistory from the enormous number of graves or cults of Heroes\nmentioned by Pausanias in the account of his travels in the age of\nthe Antonines over the most important countries of the Greece that\nwas now fast falling into decay. Nearly all the legendary figures\ncelebrated in epic poetry were now worshipped as Heroes, whether in\ntheir own homes (as Achilles in Thessaly, Aias at Salamis, etc.) or\nin other places that either claimed to possess their graves (as the\nDelphians did that of Neoptolemos, the people of Sybaris that of\nPhiloktetes, etc.) or else, through the genealogical relationship of\ntheir leading families with the Heroes, regarded themselves as\nclosely connected with them (as, for example, the Athenians with\nAias and his sons). In the colonies especially the Hero-cults, like\nthe ingredients of the population, may have been a motley crew;\nthus, in Tarentum the Atreidai, the Tydidai, the Aiakidai, the\nLaertiadai, and especially the Agamemnonidai were worshipped in a\ncombined Hero-cult, and Achilles also had a temple of his own.[54\\4]\n\nThere were Heroes with famous names who may yet have owed their\nsubsequent elevation to that position, during the times of the\ngreatest extent of the cult, in part to their fame in ancient\npoetry. Side by side with these were a host of obscurer figures\nwhose memory had been kept alive by their cult alone, which a small\ncircle of country or city folk had paid to them from primitive\ntimes. These are the real \"national Heroes\", of whose worship Drakon\nhad spoken; as true forebears and real ancestors of their country\nthey, too, are called \"Archegetai\".[55\\4] We are told the names of\nthe seven Archegetai of Plataea to whom Aristeides was commanded by\nthe Delphic oracle to sacrifice before the battle of Plataea; not\none of them is ever heard of again.[56\\4] It might happen that the\nname of a Hero to whom worship had been paid from time immemorial\nmight no longer be known even to the dwellers near his grave. In the\nmarket at Elis there stood a little temple whose roof was supported\non wooden pillars; men knew that this was the chapel belonging to a\ngrave, but no one could give the name of the Hero buried\nthere.[57\\4] In the market at Herakleia on the Black Sea was a\nmonument of a Hero {127} overshadowed by wild olive-trees; it\ncontained the body of that Hero whom once the Delphian oracle had\nbidden the founders of Herakleia to placate. The learned differed as\nto his name; the inhabitants of Herakleia called him simply \"the\nlocal Hero\".[58\\4] In the Hippodrome at Olympia stood a round altar\nat which the chariot horses used to shy. It was disputed what Hero\nlay buried there, but the people called him, after the effect he had\non the horses, simply Taraxippos.[59\\4] In the same way many Heroes,\ninstead of being called by their real names, were more often\nreferred to by adjectives which recalled their nature or their power\nor some external detail of their appearance.[60\\4] At Athens there\nwas a Hero Physician, a Hero General, and a Hero\nGarland-bearer.[61\\4] Many a Hero may have been known to the\nneighbourhood which worshipped him simply as \"the Hero\".[62\\4] In\nsuch cases it was entirely due to the grave and the cult attached to\nthe grave that the Hero's memory had been preserved at all. There\nmight, indeed, be stories current as to his doings and nature as a\n\"spirit\", but what it was that had marked him out in his lifetime\nand caused his elevation to a Hero was totally forgotten.\nUndoubtedly these are precisely the oldest Hero-cults. In the\ninstances quoted from Elis, Herakleia and Olympia, first one and\nthen another of the famous champions of antiquity were supposed to\nbe buried under that nameless gravestone. But, often enough, the\ndoubt was suppressed, and by an arbitrary and successful imposition\nsome famous name out of the heroic legend may have been substituted\nas occupant of such ownerless or unclaimed grave sanctuaries.\n\n\u00a7 8\n\nAs a rule there was no difficulty in securing great or famous names\nwhen it was necessary to find a patron-Hero for the city. In\nparticular the founder of the city and its regular worship of the\ngods, and the whole divine circle which hedged round the life of the\ncitizens, was regularly worshipped with high honour as Hero\nArchegetes.[63\\4] Naturally, they were mostly mythical or even\narbitrarily invented figures to whom the greater or lesser cities of\nGreece, as well as their offshoots in foreign lands, did honour as\ntheir \"Founder\".\n\nBut from the times when colonies were frequently dispatched and laid\nout in accordance with a carefully thought-out plan, under the\nleadership of a single person (generally named by an oracle) who was\ngiven plenipotentiary powers,[64\\4] this real _Oikistes_ was himself\nusually promoted after his death to the rank of Hero. Pindar speaks\nof the sacred grave of the {128} Hero-founder of Kyrene in the\nmarketplace of the city;[65\\4] the inhabitants of the Thracian\nChersonnese made sacrifices to Miltiades the son of Kypselos as\ntheir Oikistes, \"as the custom is,\" and held games annually in his\nhonour;[66\\4] at Katana, in Sicily, Hieron of Syracuse was buried,\nand was worshipped with the honours of a Hero as the Founder of the\ncity.[67\\4] At Abdera the Teians on the occasion of the second\nfounding of the city restored to his position of Hero its original\nfounder Timesios.[68\\4] On the other hand, the original and real\nOikistes of a colony might be deprived of his worship if the\ninhabitants quarrelled with the mother country, and another\n\"Founder\" chosen after the event and given the highest honours of a\nHero in his place. This was what happened in the year 422 with\nHagnon and Brasidas in Amphipolis.[69\\4]\n\nIn these cases Hero-making leaves the sacred mists of antiquity and\nenters the light of the contemporary world: faith and cult become\nprofaned by political motives. The name of Hero, once applied only\nto the glorified figures of the far distant past, now that such\nHeroizing of the recent dead was possible, must have begun to have\nthe more general meaning of one who has come to enjoy a higher\nnature and enlarged capacities after his death. In fact, any kind of\nprominence during a man's lifetime seems at last to have given him a\nvirtual claim to heroic honours after his death. As Heroes are now\nregarded, great kings such as Gelon of Syracuse, law-givers such as\nLykourgos of Sparta,[70\\4] and even representatives of poetic genius\nfrom Homer down to Aeschylus and Sophokles,[71\\4] no less than the\nmost famous victors in the contests of bodily skill and strength.\nOne of the Olympic victors, Philippos of Kroton, was reputed to be\nthe most beautiful man in Greece of his time. Over his grave the\npeople of Egesta, so Herodotos (v, 47) tells us, erected a Hero's\ntemple and paid honour to him with sacrifice as to a Hero merely on\naccount of his great personal beauty.\n\nStill, religious or superstitious motives were not always absent.\nThey were particularly to the fore in the numerous cases where the\nextent and importance of the world of Heroes were added to on the\nrecommendation of the Delphic oracle. Ever since the Delphic\npriesthood had risen from its obscure beginnings to a recognized\nposition as the supreme authority in all questions of spiritual\nright, the opinion of the oracle had been sought on all occurrences\nthat seemed to have any connexion with the unseen world. Especially\nin the case of prolonged drought or infertility of the soil, or when\npestilential sicknesses had attacked a part of the country, was the\noracle {129} requested to state the origin of the misfortune. In\nmany cases the answer of the oracle would be that the origin of the\nevil lay in the anger of a Hero who was to be placated by sacrifice\nand the foundation of a permanent worship; or it would command that\nthe plague should be averted by the recovery of the bones of a Hero\nfrom a foreign land, which should then be preserved at home and be\nthe object of an official cult.[72\\4] Innumerable cults had their\norigin in this way, nor do the examples all belong to a\nhalf-legendary past. When pestilence and dearth broke out in the\nisland of Cyprus after the death of Kimon, the oracle bade the\ninhabitants of Kition \"not to slight\" Kimon, but to regard him as a\n\"higher\" being, i.e. do him honour as a Hero.[73\\4] So, too, when\nsome one possessed by special religious scruples inquired the cause\nof a strange vision that he had had, or of the remarkable appearance\nof the body of one lately dead,[74\\4] the oracle would often trace\nthe matter to the action of a Hero who must forthwith be given an\nofficial cult. When a serious undertaking lay before a state,\nwhether it was the invasion of a foreign land or a decisive battle\nin war, the oracle would bid the inquirers first placate the Heroes\nof the country that was to be attacked or where the battle was to be\nfought.[75\\4] Sometimes the oracle of its own accord, without being\napplied to, commanded the honours of a Hero to be paid to a dead\nman.[76\\4]\n\nA peculiar case is that of Kleomedes of Astypalaia. This man had at\nthe 71st Olympic festival (486) killed his opponent in the boxing\nmatch. He was disqualified by the Hellanodikai from taking his crown\nand returned home to Astypalaia full of indignation. There he tore\ndown the pillar which supported the roof of a boys' school, and on\nthe destruction of the boys fled to Athene's temple where he hid\nhimself in a chest. His pursuers vainly sought to open the lid of\nthe chest and at last the chest itself had to be broken into by main\nforce. But Kleomedes was not found inside, either alive or dead. The\nenvoys sent to inquire of the oracle were informed that Kleomedes\nhad become a Hero, and that he must be honoured with sacrifice since\nhe was no longer a mortal.[77\\4] And so the inhabitants of\nAstypalaia paid honour to Kleomedes as a Hero. In this case the\nsimple conception of a Hero as one raised to divine power after his\ndeath is united with the ancient belief, which had never quite died\nout since the great days of the epic, in the _translation_ of\nindividual mortals who without dying disappear from sight to enter\nimmortal life with body and soul complete. Such a miracle seemed to\nhave occurred once again in the case of Kleomedes. He had\n\"disappeared\" and {130} been \"carried away\".[78\\4] He could,\nhowever, only be called a \"Hero\" because there was no common name to\ndescribe the effect of translation which made men no longer mortals\nnor yet gods. The oracle called Kleomedes \"the last of the Heroes\";\nindeed, it might well appear time to close at last the already\nover-lengthy list of \"Heroes\". The Delphic oracle[79\\4] had itself\ncontributed largely to their increase, and with full intent; nor did\nit observe for long its own decision to make an end now.[80\\4]\n\nIt is easy to understand the reasons for the universal acceptance\namong the Greeks of the unquestioned authority of the oracle in all\nmatters connected with the Heroes. The god does not invent new\nHeroes or add to the number of local divinities at his own caprice\nor by the exercise of his own authority. He merely sees them where\nhuman eyes are not clear-sighted enough. He, the all-seeing,\nrecognizes them as one spirit does another, and is able to see them\nat work when men only feel the results of their activity. Thus, he\nenables inquirers to be rid of their difficulties, to understand\nsupernatural occurrences by the recognition and worship of invisible\npowers. For the believer he is in this, as in all other directions\nof religious life, \"the true Expositor\".[81\\4] He only points out\nwhat already exists; he does not invent anything new, though the\ninformation that he gives may be something quite new to men. We,\nindeed, may be permitted to inquire what motive the shrewd Delphic\npriesthood may have had in the creation or renewal of so many\nHero-cults. There is very evident method in their promotion of the\nbelief in Heroes, as there is in all the activities of the oracle in\nreligious and political matters. Was it ecclesiastical policy that\nmade the priests of Delphi, in this as so many other cases, search\nout and multiply to the greatest possible extent the objects of\nbelief and cult? The more widespread and the more deeply ingrained\nwas the uneasy dread of an invisible all-powerful spirit-world, the\ngreater became the authority of the oracle that alone could give\nguidance in this confused turmoil of ghostly activities.\nSuperstition had achieved a power that the Homeric age never knew,\nand it cannot be denied that the oracle encouraged this\n_deisidaimonia_ and did its best to increase it. Still, the priests\nof the oracle themselves were undoubtedly subject to the beliefs of\ntheir age; at any rate, they shared the belief in Heroes. They would\nthink it quite natural, when faced by anxious inquiries as to the\ncause of disease or dearth, to confirm the half-expressed\nattribution of the evil to the action of an angry Hero. They had\nrather {131} to give their sanction to what was already anticipated\nthan invent something new. They only applied to the particular case\n(with free scope in the invention of details) what the popular\nbelief of the times had already settled in principle. But what it\nall meant was that the oracle took under its protection everything\nthat could promote and strengthen the cult of _souls_: and in so far\nas it is possible to speak of a \"Theology of Delphi\", the popular\nbelief in the survival of the soul after death and the cult of the\ndisembodied soul formed two of the most important articles in its\ncreed. We shall have more to say on this subject hereafter. In any\ncase, if the priests lived in the atmosphere of such ideas, it was\nnatural for them in times of need and stress, when strange things\nhappened, to regard as the author of the disturbance some dead\nlegendary Hero's ghost or even a powerful spirit of more recent\ntimes, and to direct the faithful accordingly. Thus, the Delphic god\nbecame the patron of the cult of Heroes, just as he was a patron of\nthe Heroes themselves, and invited them every year at the\n_Theoxenia_ to a meal in his own temple.[82\\4]\n\n\u00a7 9\n\nThus encouraged on all sides, Hero-worship began to multiply the\nobjects of the cult beyond all counting. The great wars of freedom\nagainst the Persians had aroused the deepest and most religious\nfeelings of the Greeks, and it did not seem too much when whole\ncompanies of those who had fallen for freedom were raised to the\nrank of Hero. Thus, even into a very late period, the solemn\nprocession every year to honour the Greeks who had been left on the\nfield of Plataea was never omitted; and at the sacrifice the archon\nof the city called upon the \"brave men who had laid down their lives\nfor Greece\" and invited them to a meal and satisfaction of\nblood.[83\\4] At Marathon, also, those who had once fallen in battle\nand been buried there were worshipped as Heroes.[84\\4]\n\nOut of the enormous multitude of those who had thus become Heroes an\naristocracy of Heroes of a higher rank came to be formed, chiefly\ncomposed of those who had been honoured in legend and poetry from\nthe earliest times and had acquired fame all over Greece. Examples\nof these are those whom Pindar[85\\4] in one place names together:\nthe descendants of Oineus in Aetolia, Iolaos in Thebes, Perseus in\nArgos, the Dioscuri in Sparta, the many-branched heroic family of\nthe Aiakidai in Aegina, Salamis, and many other places. Indeed, a\nbrighter lustre seemed to illumine some of the greater Heroes {132}\nand to distinguish them almost in kind from the rest of their\nfellows. Thus, Herakles was now elevated to the gods, though Homer\ndid not even know him as a \"Hero\" in the later sense, and though in\nmany places he was still worshipped as a Hero.[86\\4] Asklepios is\nsometimes a Hero and sometimes a god, as he had been\noriginally.[87\\4] Then many other Heroes began to receive sacrifice\nas gods,[88\\4] not without the assistance of the Delphic oracle,\nwhich in the case of Lykourgos, at least, seems itself to have given\nthe lead in the elevation of that Hero.[89\\4] The boundary line\nbetween the Hero and the god seems to become more and more\nuncertain; sometimes a Hero of the narrowest local observance is\ncalled a \"god\",[90\\4] without our having any reason for thinking of\na formal elevation to divine honour in his case or any corresponding\nalteration of ritual. The title of Hero seemed already to have lost\nsome of its value, though the time had not yet come when to name a\ndead man as Hero hardly distinguished him at all from all the other\ndead.\n\n\u00a7 10\n\nHowever much the meaning attached to the name of Hero may have\nwidened or even deteriorated, the belief in the Heroes lost none of\nits significance and long retained its hold on the people. The\nbelief in such a class of spirits stood almost on a par with the\nbelief in gods. If the circle of influence possessed by some\nparticular local-Hero was narrow and restricted, that only made him\nseem all the nearer to his worshippers. The spirits of their\nancestors, their own and the country's peculiar possession and\nshared with no one else, seemed more intimately theirs than other\ninvisible powers even of higher rank. Permanent as the gods\nthemselves, such Heroes were honoured as hardly second to the gods,\n\"though they cannot equal them in might.\"[91\\4] \"Not equal\"--for\ntheir efficacy was confined within bounds; it did not reach beyond\nthe limits of their home and the little band of their worshippers.\nThey were bound to the soil as the Olympian gods no longer were--(a\nHero who breaks free from local limitations soon achieves divinity).\nIn particular those Heroes who send up, from beneath the earth where\nthey dwell, relief in sickness or prevision of the future are\ncertainly bound to one spot. Only at their graves can such\nassistance be expected, for that is their dwelling-place. In their\ncase the relationship between the belief in Heroes and the belief in\nthose subterranean deities, of whom something was said in the\nprevious chapter, is peculiarly plain. Indeed, in so far as their\ninfluence is limited {133} to a single locality and their powers\nconcerned especially with _iatromantic_ manifestations, these two\nclasses of spirits essentially coincide.\n\nSuch relief in sickness was expected, not only from Asklepios\nhimself, but from the Asklepiadai, Machaon--who had a grave and\ntemple at Gerenia on the coast of Laconia--and Podaleirios. The\nlatter was buried in Apulia, near Mount Garganus. In his hero\u00f6n\nthose who sought his aid laid themselves down to sleep on the skin\nof the ram that had been previously sacrificed. In sleep they\nreceived other revelations from the Hero besides remedies for the\nailments of man and beast.[92\\4] Machaon's son, too, Polemokrates,\nhealed sicknesses in his temple of Eua in Argolis.[93\\4] In Attica\nthere was a _Heros Iatros_ in the city whose efficacy in curing\ndisease was witnessed to by innumerable silver ex voto facsimiles of\nvarious parts of the body restored to health by him.[94\\4] Another\nHero Iatros, whose name is given as Aristomachos, had an oracle of\nhealing at Marathon.[95\\4] Healing of disease was rarely attributed\nto any other than these Asklepiad Heroes. Dream-revelations of other\nkinds, however, were vouchsafed from their graves especially by\nthose Heroes who had been seers also in their lifetime, such as\nMopsos and Amphilochos at Mallos in Cilicia, Amphilochos, again, in\nAkarnania, Teiresias at Orchomenos, Kalchas in Apulia near the\njust-mentioned hero\u00f6n of Podaleirios.[96\\4] Besides these Odysseus,\ntoo, had a dream-oracle among the Eurytanes in Aetolia,[97\\4]\nProtesilaos one at his grave-monument at Elaious in the Thracian\nChersonnese,[98\\4] Sarpedon in Cilicia and another (alleged) in the\nTroad,[99\\4] Menestheus, the Athenian leader, far away in\nSpain,[100\\4] Autolykos in Sinope,[101\\4] and perhaps also Anios in\nDelos.[102\\4] A Heroine called Hemithea had a dream-oracle, from\nwhich she dispensed cures in sickness, at Kastabos in Karia;[103\\4]\nPasipha\u00eb gave prophecies in dreams at Thalamai on the Laconian\ncoast.[104\\4] Since from none of these Heroes did the epic tradition\ngive any particular grounds in legend for expecting a display of\nmantic powers, we must suppose that knowledge of the future and\ncommunication of such knowledge to the living was regarded as\nbelonging naturally to the spiritual nature of the glorified souls\nof Heroes. The notices which have come down to us allow us to hear\nof a few regular and permanently established Hero-oracles, but there\nmay have been numbers of them of which we know nothing, and isolated\nand occasional manifestations of oracular powers by other Heroes may\nnot have been entirely out of the question.[105\\4] {134}\n\n\u00a7 11\n\nThe oracular Heroes are regularly confined to the neighbourhood of\ntheir graves. In addition, what we know of the legends that were\ntold of the appearances or the unseen activities of these Heroes\nshows that, like the spirits that haunt ancient castles or caverns\nin our own popular mythology, they were confined within the\nboundaries of their native country, the neighbourhood of their\ngraves or the site of their cult. They are, as a rule, artless\nstories of the anger displayed by a Hero whose rights have been\ninfringed or whose cult neglected. At Tanagra[106\\4] there was a\nHero Eunostos, who, having been deprived of his life through the\nmachinations of a woman, would tolerate no woman in his grove or\nnear his grave.[107\\4] If any of the hated sex intruded there was\ndanger of an earthquake or drought, or else the Hero was seen going\ndown to the sea (which washes away all pollutions) to cleanse\nhimself. In Orchomenos there was a spirit who went about \"with a\nstone\" devastating the neighbourhood. This was Aktaion, whose\nearthly remains were therefore buried with much ceremony on the\ncommand of an oracle. A bronze statue of him was also set up and\nfastened with chains to a rock, and honoured every year in a feast\nof the dead.[108\\4] Herodotos solemnly tells us of the wrath of\nMinos with the Cretans, who had not avenged his own violent end,\nwhereas they had gone to the aid of Menelaos.[109\\4] There is a\ndeeper sense in the legend, also related by Herodotos, of Talthybios\nwho was enraged not for any private grievance but because of a\nviolation of the moral law and order. He himself as the protector of\nheralds and messengers punished the Spartans for their murder of the\nPersian envoys.[110\\4] But the most awe-inspiring legend of the\nrevenge of a Hero was told of a local-Hero of the Athenian parish of\nAnagyros. A countryman had cut down the Hero's sacred grove.[111\\4]\nThe Hero first caused the death of the man's wife and then inspired\nthe second wife with a guilty passion for his son, her stepson. The\nlatter opposed her wishes and when she denounced him to her husband\nwas blinded by him and banished to a desert island. The father,\nhaving become an object of loathing to all men, hanged himself; the\nstepmother threw herself into a well.[112\\4] This story is\nremarkable for the fact that in it the Hero, like the gods\nthemselves, is regarded as able to affect men's consciousness, their\nfeelings, and their resolves. Many of the details may have been\nimproved upon by a taste accustomed to poetry of a higher\nstyle.[113\\4] But as a rule the legends of Heroes bear a {135}\nthoroughly popular stamp. They are a kind of vulgar mythology, which\nstill put forth fresh shoots in this way now that the myths of\nancient gods and champions have become merely traditional and have\nbeen given over to the never-ending operations of the poets. Such\nmyths were no longer thrown off naturally by the creative instinct\nof the people. The gods seemed too far removed, their visible\ninfluence in the affairs of men seemed only credible in the legends\nof a far-distant past. The spirits of Heroes hovered nearer to men;\nin good fortune and bad men traced their handiwork. In the myths and\nlegends of the people arising out of the events of the immediate\npresent they now constitute the supernatural element without which\nneither life nor stories would offer any attraction or meaning to\nthe simple-minded.\n\nWe can learn what these legends were like from a single example,\nwhich happens to have been preserved to us and which must stand for\nthe numbers of similar stories which once must have been current. At\nTemesa, in Lucania, there was a Hero who went about destroying any\nof the inhabitants that he could lay his hand on. The Temesians, who\nhad got as far as thinking of leaving Italy, turned in their\ndistress to the Delphic oracle, and were told that the ghost was the\nspirit of a stranger who had once been stoned to death by the\ninhabitants of the country for the violation of a maiden.[114\\4] A\nsacred precinct must be dedicated to him, and a temple built, where\nevery year the most beautiful maiden in Temesa must be delivered up\nto him. The citizens of Temesa did as they were told, and the spirit\nleft them in peace, but every year the awful sacrifice took place.\nTo this place there came in the 77th Olympiad a famous boxer,\nEuthymos of Locri, returning with his crown of victory back to\nItaly. He heard at Temesa of the sacrifice that was about to take\nplace, and entered the temple where he saw the chosen maiden waiting\nfor the Hero. Pity and love filled his heart; and when the Hero\narrived the victor of so many single combats dared to try\nconclusions with this new foe and finally threw him into the sea and\nrid the country of the monster. It is just as in our own fairy tale\nof the youth who went forth to learn how to shudder;[115\\4] and, of\ncourse, now that the land is delivered there is a brilliant wedding\nand the \"Knight of Good Courage\" marries the beautiful maiden he has\nrescued. He lived on to extreme old age, and even then he did not\ndie but was translated alive and is now himself a Hero.[116\\4]\n\nSuch champions of the Pan-Hellenic contests, of whom {136} Euthymos\nwas one, are the favourite figures of popular legend both in their\nlifetime and, after their death, as spirits. A story was told also\nof one of the contemporaries of Euthymos, Theagenes of Thasos, one\nof the most famous victors in the great games, and how after his\ndeath one of his opponents went and thrashed his statue by night\ntill one night the statue fell on him and killed him. The Thasians\nthen threw the murderous image into the sea, but were thereupon\nplagued with barrenness as a result of the Hero's anger. This went\non until, after the several times repeated command of the Delphic\noracle, they fished up the statue from where it had sunk and\nrestored it to its old position and sacrificed to it \"as to a\ngod\".[117\\4] The remarkable thing about this story is the way in\nwhich the crude and primitive notion, common to almost all\nimage-worshipping peoples, that the strength of a \"spirit\" resides\nin his effigy, is here more than usually striking and applied to the\nbelief in Heroes. It lies at the bottom of many stories of the\nrevenge of dumb statues against those who offend them.[118\\4] The\nstatue of Theagenes, indeed, cured fevers even in later ages,[119\\4]\nas did the statue of another famous boxer, Polydamas of\nSkotoussa.[120\\4] An Ach\u00e6an Olympic victor, Oibotas of Dyme, had for\ncenturies prevented the Ach\u00e6ans from winning in any contest by a\ncurse.[121\\4] When he had been appeased the Ach\u00e6ans, on starting out\nto take part in a contest at Olympia, used to do sacrifice to his\nstatue.[122\\4]\n\n\u00a7 12\n\nBut the belief in Heroes rose to still greater heights. Not merely\nin peaceful athletic contests, but in real need, in struggles when\nthey were fighting to defend the highest possessions of all--the\nfreedom and safety of their country--the Heroes were found on the\nside of the Greeks. Nowhere do we see more plainly how real and\nvivid was the faith of contemporary Greece in the Heroes than in the\nstories told of the appeals then made to them and of their\nparticipation in the Persian wars. At Marathon there were many who\nsaw an apparition of Theseus in full armour fighting in the front of\nthe battle against the barbarians.[123\\4] In the painting of\nPanainos (the brother of Pheidias) in the Stoa Poikile at Athens\nthere was shown among the fighters at Marathon a certain Hero,\nEchetlos, of whose appearance at the battle a peculiar story was\ntold.[124\\4] In the war against Xerxes Delphi was preserved by two\nof the local Heroes of the land against a Persian raid.[125\\4] In\nthe morning before the battle of Salamis the Greeks prayed to the\ngods, but they called directly {137} upon the Heroes to give them\npractical help: Aias and Telamon were summoned from Salamis, and a\nship was sent to fetch Aiakos and the other Aiakidai from\nAegina.[126\\4] So little were these Hero spirits mere symbols or\ngreat names to the Greeks. Their actual physical participation in\nthe decisive hour was confidently expected. And, indeed, they came\nand helped:[127\\4] after the battle had been won a trireme out of\nthe spoil was dedicated to the Hero Aias as well as to the gods as a\nthankoffering.[128\\4] A Salaminian local Hero, Kychreus, had also\ncome to the help of the Greeks, as a snake, in which form the\nHeroes, like the earth spirits, frequently appeared.[129\\4] After\nthe battle everyone was fully persuaded that they owed their victory\nto the gods and Heroes.[130\\4] As Xenophon puts it, it was the\nHeroes and their aid which \"made Greece unconquerable\" in the fight\nagainst the barbarians.[131\\4] Less frequently we hear of the active\nparticipation of national Heroes in the fights of one Greek state\nagainst another.[132\\4]\n\nEven in the petty details of the life of individuals the Heroes\nplayed their part, helping or hindering, as once in mythical times\nthe gods had done. Everyone will be reminded of well-known legends\nof the gods, and will at the same time be able to measure the\ndifference between the sublime and the merely idyllic, in reading\nHerodotos' naive and circumstantial tale of how Helen once appeared\nin person to a nurse at Therapne. The nurse was praying at Helen's\ngrave for her ill-favoured foster-child, when the Heroine appeared\nto her and with a touch of her hand made the child the most\nbeautiful maiden in Sparta.[133\\4] So, too, we read how the Hero\nAstrabakos, in the likeness of Ariston, king of Sparta, visited in\nsecret the king's wife and made her the mother of Demaratos.[134\\4]\nThe hero\u00f6n of this Astrabakos was situated by the door of Ariston's\nhouse,[135\\4] and it was a frequent custom thus to place a Hero's\nshrine before the house-door where he might give a special\nprotection to his neighbour.[136\\4]\n\nIn all the circumstances of human life, in happiness or in need, for\nindividuals or the city, the Heroes are thus very near to men. It is\nnow often said of the Hero worshipped by a city (just as it was said\nof the city's gods) that he rules it, is its possessor, or is lord\nover it;[137\\4] he is its true guardian and protector. It may,\nindeed, have been the case in many cities, as it was said to be in\nsome, that the belief in the city-Hero was more deeply held there\nthan the belief in the gods worshipped by all Greece in\ncommon.[138\\4] The relation of man to the Heroes is closer than it\nis to the majestic gods above: {138} the faith in Heroes gave a\ndifferent and a more familiar bond of union between men and the\nspirit-world above them. The worship of Heroes began as an\nancestor-cult and an ancestor-cult it remained in essence, but it\nhad now been widened to a cult of certain greater human souls who\nhad raised themselves above their fellows by peculiar powers\nexercised in many, and by no means predominantly moral, directions.\nMany of them were of later ages or even of the quite recent past,\nand in this lies the peculiar importance of their cult. They show\nthat the company of the spirits is not fixed and made up; individual\nmortals are still continually being raised to that higher circle\nafter the completion of their earthly life. Death does not end all\nconscious existence nor does the gloom of Hades swallow up all life.\n\nBut for that reason the cult of Heroes cannot be the origin of the\nbelief in an immortality belonging to all human souls by their very\nnature. Nor can this ever have been its effect. In the beginning,\namong the hosts that streamed down to Hades, the special individuals\nwho had another fate were a small class apart and favoured above all\nothers--and so it still remained. Though the numbers of the heroic\nfigures might be increased enormously, yet every individual case of\nthe transition of a human soul into the ranks of the Heroes was a\nfresh and special miracle. Such exceptional cases, however\nfrequently repeated, could never produce a general rule applying\nwithout distinction to all men alike.\n\nThe belief in Heroes in its gradual evolution and extension\nunquestionably led far away from the course taken by the Homeric\nbelief in the things after death. In fact, it pointed in the\nopposite direction. But with the belief in Heroes men had not yet\narrived at the belief in an immortality proper to the human soul by\nvirtue of its own nature, nor yet (which would be something\ndifferent again) was a general cult of souls thereby founded. In\norder that such beliefs might arise after, but not out of, the cult\nof Heroes, and maintain themselves side by side with an undiminished\ncult of Heroes, a movement was first necessary that had its origin\nin different sources.\n\n\nNOTES TO CHAPTER IV\n\n\n[1\\4: Porph., _Abst._ 4, 22, p. 268, 23 Nauck.]\n\n[2\\4: It is not quite clear whether it is legitimate to see in what\nPaus. 2, 2, 2, says about the graves of Neleus and Sisyphos a first\ntrace of the worship of Hero-relics, as Lobeck does, _Agla._ 284.\nThe oracle verse from Oinom. ap. Eus., _PE._ 5, 28, p. 223 B, in\nwhich Lykourgos is warned to honour ~Mene/lan te kai\\ a/llous\nathana/tous _h\u00ea/r\u00f4as_, hoi\\ en Lakedai/moni di/\u00ea|~--is certainly\nquite late, later than the ~h\u00ea/keis \u00f4= Luko/orge~ that was known\nalready to Herod.; earlier however than the second century, cf.\nIsyllos (_GDI._ 3342), l. 26. Oinomaos got it, like all the oracles\nthat he used in making his ~Go\u00ea/t\u00f4n ph\u00f4/ra~ from a collection of\noracular sayings, certainly not from (or even indirectly from)\nEphoros as has been groundlessly maintained.--Unquestionably the\ncult of Helen and Menelaos at Therapne was ancient: see Ross, _Arch.\nAufs._ ii, 341 ff. Connexion with the legitimate pre-Dorian monarchy\nwas eagerly sought for in Sparta; thus the bones of Orestes and\nTisamenos were brought to Sparta and both honoured there as Heroes.\nThe cult of Menelaos in Therapne has nothing whatever to do with his\ntranslation to Elysion (Od. ~d~).]\n\n[3\\4: One Daites ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4a tim\u00f4/menon para\\ toi=s Tr\u00f4si/n~ is\nmentioned by Mimn. _fr._ 18. Still earlier Alc. seems to refer to\nthe cult of Achilles as a Hero, _fr._ 48 b: ~Achi/lleu, ho\\ ga=s\nSkudi/kas me/deis~ (see Wassner, _de her. cult._, p. 33).]\n\n[4\\4: ~theoi\\ ho/soi g\u00ea=n t\u00ea\\n **Platai\u00ef/da e/chete kai\\ h\u00ea/r\u00f4es,\nxuni/store/s este~, Thuc. ii, 74, 2; ~ma/rturas theou\\s kai\\ h\u00ea/r\u00f4as\negch\u00f4ri/ous poi\u00ea/somai~, Th. iv, 87, 2; cf. Th. v, 30, 2-5.]\n\n[5\\4: Hdt. viii, 109: ~ta/de ga\\r ouk h\u00eamei=s katergasa/metha alla\\\ntheoi/ te kai\\ h\u00ea/r\u00f4es~.]\n\n[6\\4: Hdt. vii, 43.]\n\n[7\\4: In the first edition of this book I could not refer to the\ncopiously documented article by Deneken on \"Heros\" in Roscher's\n_Myth. Lex._ Even now I must be content to refer the reader\ngenerally to the rich collections of material there supplied. The\nview taken of the nature and origin of the Hero is, however, one\nwhich I can only reject. According to that account (which in this\nfollows the current view) the belief in Heroes arose from a weakened\nbelief in gods, and the race of Heroes was composed of formerly\ndivine figures who had come to be regarded in the course of time\nwith diminished awe. But the _cult_ of Heroes was by no means an\nattenuated worship of the gods: on the contrary it was fundamentally\ncontrasted in its essence to the cult of the gods above:\n~enagi/zein~ can never have been derived from ~thu/ein~ in however\nattenuated a form. Equally little can the Heroes of cult have been\never (much less frequently) derived from gods directly. The \"Heroes\"\n(as objects of a cult) are invariably elevated souls of men, not\nreduced divinities. This rule holds good even though a considerable\nnumber of once divine figures after they had been deprived of their\ngodhead and made into great _men_, were when they died exalted, as\noutstanding human beings, to the rank of Hero. In this respect they\ndid not differ from the innumerable cases before and beside them of\nsimple mortals who had never been gods. Only when and because they\nhad become men and been mortal could such {140} ex-divine personages\nbecome Heroes: no one stepped straight from godhood to Herohood. The\nHero is regularly a promoted human spirit and nothing else.--I\nintend here and generally in this book to avoid further polemic\nagainst the currently accepted view of the origin of the Hero out of\ndegraded godhead and to content myself instead with the statement of\nmy own positive attitude in these matters.]\n\n[8\\4: ~the\u00f4=n a/llois a/llai timai\\ pro/skeintai kai\\ h\u00ea/r\u00f4sin\na/llai, kai\\ hau=tai apokekrime/nai tou= theiou=~, Arr., _Anab._ iv,\n11, 3.]\n\n[9\\4: Sacrifice to Heroes ~en duthmai=sin auga=n~ and throughout the\nnight, Pi., _I._iv, 65 ff. ~hupo\\ kne/phas~, Ap. Rh. i, 587 (=\n~peri\\ h\u00eali/ou dusma/s~, Schol.). ~t\u00f4=| me\\n (Alexa/nori h\u00f4s h\u00ea/r\u00f4\u00ef\nmeta\\ h\u00ea/lion du/nata enagi/zousin Euameri/\u00f4ni de\\ h\u00f4s the\u00f4=|\nthu/ousin~, Paus. 2, 11, 7. ~nu/kt\u00f4r kata\\ e/tos enagi/zousin~, (the\nPheneatai to Myrtilos, Paus. 8, 14, 11. By night Solon sacrificed to\nthe Salaminian Heroes, Plu., _Sol._ 9.--After noon, ~apo\\ me/sou\nh\u00eame/ras~, must sacrifice be made to the Heroes, D.L. viii, 33;\n~toi=s katoichome/nois apo\\ mes\u00eambri/as~, _EM._ 468, 34 (cf. Procl.\nin _Hes. Op._ 763, Eust., ~Th~ 65, p. 698, 36). The Heroes also are\namong the ~katoicho/menoi~: ~toi=s h\u00ea/r\u00f4sin _h\u00f4s katoichome/nois_\ne/ntoma e/thuon, apoble/pontes ka/t\u00f4 es g\u00ea=n~, Schol. A.D., ~A~\n459.--In later times sacrifice seems to have been made to the\nordinary dead even in broad daylight (see Stengel, _Chthon. u.\nTodtencult_, 422 f.), but to \"Heroes\", as once to the dead (~Ps~ 218\nff.), always towards evening or at night.]\n\n[10\\4: ~escha/ra~, see above, Ch. I. n. 53.]\n\n[11\\4: Cf. Stengel, _Jb. f. Phil._, 1886, pp. 322, 329.]\n\n[12\\4: Schol. A.D., ~A~ 459. Schol., _Ap. Rh._ i, 587. ~ente/mnein~,\nsee Stengel, _Zt. f. Gymn._, 1880, p. 743 ff.]\n\n[13\\4: ~haimakouri/a~, Pi., _O._ i, 90. Plu., _Aristid._ 21. The\nword is supposed to be Boeotian acc. to Schol. Pi., _O._ i, 146\n(hence Greg. Cor., p. 215, Schaefer).]\n\n[14\\4: Rightly (as against Welcker) Wassner, _de h. cult._, p. 6,\nmaintains that the ~enagi/smata~ for Heroes were ~holokaut\u00f4/mata~.]\n\n[15\\4: ~enagi/zein~ to heroes, ~thu/ein~ to gods. Pausanias in\nparticular is careful in his use of the words, but even he, and\nHerodotos, too, occasionally says ~thu/ein~ where ~enagi/zein~ would\nhave been correct (e.g. Hdt. vii, 117, ~t\u00f4=| Artachai/\u00ea| thu/ousi\nAka/nthioi h\u00f4s \u00ea/r\u00f4i~). Others frequently say ~thu/ein~ instead of\n~enagi/zein~, which as the more special idea could easily be\nincluded in ~thu/ein~ the more generic word for making sacrifice.]\n\n[16\\4: Cf. Deneken, _de theoxeniis_ (Berl. 1881), cap. 1; Wassner,\n_de h. cult._, p. 12. The expressions used by primitive peoples\nallow us to see the ideas that lie at the bottom of this mode of\noffering; cf. R\u00e9ville, _les rel. des peuples non-civ._ i, 73. The\nritual may be regarded as specially primitive and even earlier than\nthe practice of burnt offering (cf. Oldenberg, _Rel. d. Veda_, 344\nf.).]\n\n[17\\4: See above, Ch. I, p. 14 ff.--~epi\\ Aza=ni t\u00f4=| Arka/dos\nteleut\u00ea/santi a=thla ete/th\u00ea _pr\u00f4=ton_; ei me\\n kai\\ a/lla ouk\noi=da, hippodromi/as de\\ ete/th\u00ea~, Paus. 8, 4, 5.]\n\n[18\\4: The same is implied by the observation of Aristarchos that\nHomer knows no ~hiero\\s kai\\ stephani/t\u00eas ag\u00f4/n~, see _Rh. Mus._ 36,\n544 f. (as to the observation there put forward that Homer in fact\ndid not know the word ~ste/phanos~ or its use, cf. further Schol.\nPi., _Nem._ intr., pp. 7, 8 ff., Abel; see also Merkel, _Ap. Rh._\nproleg., p. cxxvi: ~e\u00fcste/phanos~ derived from ~stepha/n\u00ea~ not from\n~ste/phanos~: Schol. ~Ph~ 511).]\n\n[19\\4: Many such Agones for Heroes are mentioned, esp. by Pindar.]\n\n[20\\4: e.g. on the command of the oracle an ~ag\u00f4\\n gumniko\\s kai\\\nhippiko/s~ was founded in honour of the fallen Phocaeans in Agylla,\nHdt. i, 167. {141} Agon for Miltiades, Hdt. vi, 38; for Brasidas,\nThuc. v, 11; for Leonidas in Sparta, Paus. 3, 14, 1.]\n\n[21\\4: At the Iolaia in Thebes ~mursi/n\u00eas stepha/nois stephanou=ntai\nhoi nik\u00f4=ntes; mursi/n\u00ea| de\\ stephanou=ntai dia\\ to\\ ei=nai _t\u00f4=n\nnekr\u00f4=n_ ste/phos~, Sch. Pi., _I._ iii, 117. (The myrtle ~toi=s\nchthoni/ois aphie/r\u00f4to~, Apollod. ap. Sch. Ar., _Ran._ 330; as\nadorning graves, Eur., _El._ 324, 511.)]\n\n[22\\4: General statement: ~etelou=nto hoi palaioi\\ pa/ntes ag\u00f4=nes\nepi\\ tisi teteleut\u00eako/si~, Sch. Pi., _I_, p. 349 Ab. (~ta\\s\n_epitumbi/ous_ tautasi\\ pan\u00eagu/reis~, Clem. Alex. calls the four\ngreat games, _Protr._ ii, p. 29 P.). The Nemean as an ~ag\u00f4\\n\nepita/phios~ for Archemoros, Sch. Pi., _N._, pp. 7, 8 Ab.; later\noffered to Zeus first by Herakles, ib., p. 11, 8 ff.; 12, 14-13, 4\n(cf. Welcker, _Ep. Cycl._ ii, 350 ff.). Victor's crown, since the\nPersian wars, of parsley ~epi\\ tim\u00ea=| t\u00f4=n katoichome/n\u00f4n~, ib., p.\n10 (parsley on graves: Schneidewin on Dgn. viii, 57; see below.\n~seli/nou ste/phanos pe/nthimos . . . Dou=ris en t\u00f4=| peri\\\nag\u00f4/n\u00f4n~, Phot. 506, 5). Black dress of the judges, ib., p. 11, 8\nff. Schol. Arg., _N._ iv, v.--Isthmian games as ~epita/phios ag\u00f4/n~\nfor Melikertes and then for Sinis or Skiron, Plu., _Thes._ 25. Sch.\nPi., _I._, pp. 350-2 Ab. Crown made of parsley or pine, both signs\nof mourning, Paus. 8, 48, 2 (and elsewhere see Meineke, _An. Alex._,\n80 ff.). The Pythian games are said to be an ~ag\u00f4\\n epita/phios~ for\nPython; the Olympian for Oinomaos or Pelops (Phlegon, **_FHG._ iii,\n603; cf. P. Knapp, _Corresp. W\u00fcrt. Gelehr._ 1881, p. 9 ff.). These\nnotices cannot all be learned invention. It is a fact, for instance,\nthat the funeral games of Tlepolemos in Rhodes, known to Pindar,\n_O._ vii, 77 ff., were later transferred to Helios (cf. Sch. Pi.,\n_O._ vii, 36, 146-7, and B\u00f6ckh on v, 77).]\n\n[23\\4: \"Half-gods,\" ~h\u00eami/theoi~. The name does not, as is sometimes\ndeclared, imply that the Heroes were spirits who thus constituted a\nclass of intermediate beings between gods and men. The Heroes were\nnot called ~h\u00eami/theoi~; the name was really applied to the kings\nand champions of the legendary age, more especially those who fought\nat Troy or Thebes (Hes., _Op._, 160; Hom. ~M~ 23; _h. Hom._, 31, 19;\n32, 19. Callin., _fr._ i, 19, and often later). It applies to them,\nhowever, as living men not as glorified spirits (thus Pla., _Ap._ 41\nA; cf. D.H. 7, 32, 13, ~h\u00eamithe/\u00f4n _genome/n\u00f4n_~ [on earth] ~hai\npsuchai/~).--The ~h\u00eami/theoi~ are a species of men not of spirits or\ndaimones; they are those ~hoi\\ pro/tero/n pot' epe/lonto, the\u00f4=n d'\nex ana/kt\u00f4n ege/nonth' hui=es h\u00eami/theoi~ (Simon., _fr._ 36; cf.\nPla., _Crat._ 398 D), the sons of gods and mortal women and then\ntheir companions as well (a potiori so named). Even the idea that\nthe great men of the past, thus called ~h\u00eami/theoi~, were naturally\nmade \"Heroes\" after their death as a consequence of their\nhalf-divine nature which might give them special privileges even\nthen--this idea has no very ancient authority. Cicero, _ND._ iii,\n45, seems to be the first to suggest such a view. That the Greeks of\nthe best period ever regarded semi-divine origin as a qualification\nfor becoming a Hero is refuted by the simple fact that for the great\nmajority of the \"Heroes\" descent from a god was not claimed. Of\ncourse, poetry was always ready to give a Hero a divine father in\norder to enhance his value, cf. Paus. 6, 11, 2; but this was never a\ncondition of being made a Hero (rather of being raised from Hero to\ngod).]\n\n[24\\4: ~ma/kar me\\n andr\u00f4=n me/ta, h\u00ea/r\u00f4s d' e/peita laoseb\u00ea/s~,\nPi., _P._ v, 94 f.]\n\n[25\\4: ~ti/na theo/n, ti/n' h\u00ea/r\u00f4a, ti/na d' a/ndra?~ Pi., _O._ ii\ninit. ~ou/te theou\\s ou/te h\u00ea/r\u00f4as ou/te anthr\u00f4/pous\naischunthei=sa~, Antiph. i, 27. With \"daimones\" added: Gods,\ndaimones, heroes, men: Pl., _Rp._ 392 A; 427 B; _Lg._ iv, 717 AB. In\nlater times the distinction between ~theoi/, dai/mones, h\u00ea/r\u00f4es~,\ncorresponded to a real and popular opinion, see e.g. _GDI_. {142}\n1582 (Dodona, cf. also 1566, 1585 b.--There can be no question of\nidentifying Heroes with the daimones (as N\u00e4gelsb., _N. Th._ 104,\ndoes). When philosophers call the _dead_ \"daimones\" that is from\nquite a different point of view. It is a speculative idea peculiar\nto Plutarch himself that, in view of the transition from men to\nHeroes and from these to daimones, the Heroes themselves might be\nregarded as a sort of lower daimon (_DO._ 10, 415 A; _Rom._ 28). A\nSchol. on Eur., _Hec._ 165, quite justifiably makes a parallel\nbetween gods and daimones on the one hand and Heroes and men on the\nother: the gods are ~hups\u00ealo/tero/n ti ta/gma t\u00f4=n daimo/n\u00f4n~ and\nthis is the relation of ~hoi h\u00ea/r\u00f4es pro\\s tou\\s loipou\\s\nanthr\u00f4/pous, hups\u00ealo/teroi/ tines dokou=ntes kai\\ hupere/chontes~.]\n\n[26\\4: Aristarchos' remark that in Homer not only kings but ~pa/ntes\nkoin\u00f4=s~ are designated as ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4es~, was directed against the\nmistaken limitation of the word by Ister; see Lehrs, _Aristarch._^3,\np. 101. Before Aristarch., however, the mistaken idea that ~hoi\nh\u00eagemo/nes t\u00f4=n archai/\u00f4n mo/noi \u00ea=san h\u00ea/r\u00f4es, hoi de\\ laoi\\\na/nthr\u00f4poi~ seems to have been general: it is expressed in the\n[Arist.] _Probl._ 19, 48, p. 922b, 18; Rhianos, too, held it, see\nSchol. ~T~ 41 (Mayhoff, _de Rhiani stud. Hom._, p. 46).--It is\nincorrect to say that in the supposed \"later\" parts of the Odyssey\n~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~ is no longer used of all free men, but only of the\naristocracy (Fanta, _Staat in Il. u. Od._, 17 f.). In ~d~ 268, ~th~\n242, ~x~ 97, the word is used as an honourable title of free men of\nsuperior rank, but there is no suggestion of a restriction of the\nword to such use. In addition to which, the word ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~\nunmistakably appears in its wider sense also in other parts of the\npoem equally and rightly supposed to be late (~a~ 272, ~th~ 483, ~\u00f4~\n68, etc.).]\n\n[27\\4: So for example esp. when Pausanias speaks of the ~kalou/menoi\nh\u00ea/r\u00f4es~, 5, 6, 2; 6, 5, 1; 7, 17, 1; 8, 12, 2; 10, 10, 1, etc.]\n\n[28\\4: ~andr\u00f4=n h\u00ear\u00f4/\u00f4n thei=on ge/nos~, Hes., _Op._ 159.]\n\n[29\\4: Of the \"Heroes\" of his fourth race the great majority fell\naccording to Hesiod in the war of Troy or Thebes and died without\nany \"illumination\"; the few, on the other hand, who are translated\nto the Islands of the Blest are illuminated indeed, but have never\ndied. To regard them as the prototypes and forerunners of the Heroes\nworshipped in later times (as many do is inadmissible.]\n\n[30\\4: Grave in the market: Battos in Kyrene, Pi., _P._ v, 87 ff.,\nand frequently. Hero-graves in the Prytaneion at Megara, Paus. 1,\n43, 2-3. Adrastos was buried in the market at Sikyon. Kleisthenes,\nto play a trick on him, brought from Thebes (the corpse of)\nMelanippos, who, when alive, had been his greatest enemy, and placed\nhim ~en t\u00f4=| prutanei/\u00f4| kai/ min hi/druse enthau=ta en t\u00f4=|\nischurota/t\u00f4|~, Hdt. v, 67. Themistokles had a ~mn\u00eamei=on~ in the\nmarket at Magnesia on the Maiander. Th. 1, 138, 5; i.e. a ~h\u00ear\u00f4=|on~\n(see Wachsmuth, _Rh. Mus._ lii, 140).]\n\n[31\\4: ~tu/mbon amphi/polon e/ch\u00f4n poluxen\u00f4ta/t\u00f4| para\\ b\u00f4/m\u00f4|~,\nPi., _O._ i, 93; i.e. the great ash-altar of Zeus. The excavations\nhave confirmed Pindar's description (cf. Paus. 5, 13, 1-2).]\n\n[32\\4: Grave built in the gateway: ~en aut\u00ea=| t\u00ea=| pul\u00ea=|~ at Elis\nAitolos the son of Oxylos was buried, Paus. 5, 4, 4; cf. Lobeck,\n_Agl._ 281 f. Grave at the boundary of the country: Koroibos, the\nfirst Olympic victor, was buried ~\u00calei/as epi\\ t\u00f4=| pe/rati~ as the\ninsc. stated: Paus. 8, 26, 4. Grave of Koroibos, son of Mygdon, ~en\n_ho/rois_ Phrug\u00f4=n Stektor\u00ean\u00f4=n~, Paus. 10, 27, 1.]\n\n[33\\4: The idea of the grave as the dwelling-place of the Hero is\nshown in a very strange fashion by the story that the Phliasians\nbefore the feast of Demeter ~kalou=sin epi\\ ta\\s sponda/s~ the hero\nAras and his sons, _looking_ while so doing towards the graves of\nthese Heroes: Paus. 2, 12, 5.] {143}\n\n[34\\4: This hero (Xanthippos or Phokos) ~e/chei epi\\ h\u00eame/ra| te\npa/s\u00ea| tima/s, kai\\ a/gontes hierei=a hoi Ph\u00f4kei=s to\\ me\\n hai=ma\ndi' op\u00ea=s egche/ousin es to\\n ta/phon ktl.~ Paus. 10, 4, 10.\nSimilarly at the grave of Hyakinthos at Amyklai, Paus. 3, 19, 3. The\nmeaning of such an offering is the same in Greece as in similar\ncases among any \"savage\" tribe. In Tylor, ii, 28, we read: \"In the\nCongo district the custom has been described of making a channel\ninto the tomb to the head or mouth of the corpse, to send down month\nby month the offerings of food and drink.\"]\n\n[35\\4: Most of the examples are mentioned by Lobeck, _Agl._ 281 [u],\nbut he omits the most remarkable case, fully reported by Hdt. i,\n67-8, of the transference of the bones of Orestes from Tegea to\nSparta (cf. Paus. 3, 3, 6; 11, 10; 8, 54, 4. The reason is obvious,\ncf. M\u00fcller, _Dorians_, i, 72). Besides this note: the removal of the\nbones of Hektor from Ilion to Thebes, Paus. 9, 18, 5, Sch. and Tz.,\n_Lyc._ 1194, 1204; of Arkas from Mainalos to Mantinea, Paus. 8, 9,\n3; cf. 8, 36, 8; of Hesiod from Naupaktos to Orchomenos, Paus. 9,\n38, 3; of Hippodameia from Midea in Argolis to Olympia, Paus. 6, 20,\n7; of Tisamenos from Helike to Sparta, Paus. 7, 1, 8; of Aristomenes\nfrom Rhodes to Messene, Paus. 4, 32, 3. Strange story of the\nshoulder bone of Pelops, Paus. 5, 13, 4-6. In all these cases the\nremoval followed upon a command of the oracle, cf. also Paus. 9, 30,\n9-11. Practical stimulus may have been given occasionally by the\ndiscovery of abnormally large bones in dug-up graves; we often hear\nof such discoveries, cf. W. Schmid, _Atticismus_, iv, 572 f., and it\nwas always believed that such gigantic bones were remains of one of\n~t\u00f4=n kaloume/n\u00f4n h\u00ear\u00f4/\u00f4n~, Paus. 6, 5, 1 (cf. also 1, 35, 5 ff.; 3,\n22, 9). It would be the business of the oracle to determine the name\nof the Hero concerned and see that the remains were reverently\npreserved. (One example may be given, though from a later period. In\nthe dried-up bed of the Orontes a clay coffin 11 yards long was\nfound and a corpse within it. The oracle of the Clarian Apollo on\nbeing applied to for enlightenment as to its origin answered\n~Oro/nt\u00ean ei=nai, ge/nous de\\ auto\\n ei=nai tou= Ind\u00f4=n~, Paus. 8,\n29, 4; Philostr., _H._ 669 p. 138, 6-19 K.]\n\n[36\\4: Plu., _Cim._ 8; _Thes._ 36; Paus. 3, 3, 7.--In the year 437-6\nwe hear of the removal by Hagnon and his Athenians, at the command\nof the oracle, of the bones of Rhesos from Troy to Amphipolis:\nPolyaen. vi, 53. The neighbourhood of the mouth of the Strymon on\nthe western slopes of Mt. Pangaios was the original home of Rhesos:\nhe was already known to the Doloneia as the son of E\u00efoneus; to later\nwriters as the son of Strymon and (like Orpheus) a Muse--which is\nthe same thing (see Conon, 4). On M. Pangaios he still lived as an\noracular deity: this must have been the popular belief of the\ndistrict which the author of the _Rhesus_ explains after Greek\nfashion (ll. 955-66). He is a tribal god of the Edonians, of the\nsame pattern as Zalmoxis of the Getai, and Sabos or Sabazios of\nother Thracian tribes. In the mind of the Greeks he had become since\nthe poem of the Doloneia entirely detached from the site of his\nworship and was a mere mortal champion with whom fancy might do what\nit chose (cf. Parth. 36). The restoration of his bones to the\nneighbourhood of the lower Strymon (~mn\u00eamei=on tou= Rh\u00ea/sou~ in\nAmphipolis: Marsyas ~ho ne\u00f4/teros~ in Sch., _Rhes._ 346), and the\nheroic cult which was undoubtedly paid to him in connexion\ntherewith, may have been a kind of official recognition by the\nGreeks of the worship of Rhesos discovered in that neighbourhood by\nthe Athenian colonists. I see no reason for doubting the historical\nfact of the occurrence, though some of the details of Polyaenus'\naccount have a fabulous colouring. It is true Cicero says of Rhesos,\n_nusquam_ {144} _colitur_ (_ND._ iii, 45), and so it may have been\nin C.'s time: for the earlier period the close of the tragedy\nclearly suggests the cult of R. as a divinity, while the story of\nPolyaen. implies his Hero-cult.]\n\n[37\\4: Sometimes only single parts of the body, e.g. the\nshoulder-blade of Pelops at Olympia (Paus. 5, 13).--In Argos on the\nroad to the Akropolis their heads were buried in the ~mn\u00ea=ma t\u00f4=n\nAigu/ptou pai/d\u00f4n~, while the rest of their bodies were in Lerne,\nPaus. 2, 24, 2.]\n\n[38\\4: See Lob., _Agl._ 281. This only can be the meaning of Soph.,\n_OC._ 1522 f. (Nauck otherwise.--A strange case is that of\nHippolytos in Troizen: ~apothanei=n auto\\n ouk ethe/lousin (hoi\nTroiz\u00ea/nioi) sure/nta hupo\\ t\u00f4=n hi/pp\u00f4n oude\\ to\\n ta/phon\napophai/nousin eido/tes; to\\n de\\ en ouran\u00f4=| kalou/menon h\u00eani/ochon\ntou=ton ei=nai nomi/zousin ekei=non (ekei=noi?) Hippo/luton, tim\u00ea\\n\npara\\ the\u00f4=n tau/t\u00ean e/chonta~ Paus. 2, 32, 1. Here it seems as if\nthe grave were not shown because Hipp. was not regarded as having\ndied and therefore would not have a grave; he is said to have been\n_translated_ and set among the stars. But there _was_ a grave and\nthe translation story must therefore only be an afterthought. (The\ndeath of Hipp. is spoken of clearly enough by the poets: but what\nhappened to him after Asklepios had restored him to life again? The\nItalian Virbius legend seems to have been little known in Greece.\nPaus. 2, 27, 4, knows it from Aricia.)--Very occasionally the\npossession of the relics of the Hero was secured by burning the\nbones and scattering the ashes in the market place of the city. Thus\nPhalanthos in Tarentum, Justin. 3, 4, 13 ff.; Solon in Salamis, D.L.\ni, 62; Plu., _Sol._ 32. As a rule the scattering of ashes is\nintended to serve a different purpose, cf. Plu., _Lycurg._ 31 fin.;\nNic. Dam., _Paradox._ **16, p. 170 West.]\n\n[39\\4: A few examples: ~keno\\n s\u00ea=ma~ of Teiresias in Thebes, Paus.\n9, 18, 4; of Achilles at Elis, Paus. 6, 23, 3; of the Argives who\nfought in the war against Troy, at Argos, Paus. 2, 20, 6; of Iolaos\nat Thebes, Paus. 9, 23, 1; Sch. Pi., _N._ iv, 32 (in the tomb of\nAmphitryon? Pi., _P._ ix, 81); of Odysseus at Sparta, Plut., _Q.\nGr._, 48, 302 C; of Kalchas in Apulia, Lyc. 1047 f.]\n\n[40\\4: Perhaps by ~ana/kl\u00easis~ of the ~psuch\u00ea/~? see above, Ch. I,\nn. 86 (at the foundation of Messene ~epekalou=nto en koin\u00f4=| kai\\\nh\u00ea/r\u00f4a/s sphisin epan\u00ea/kein sunoi/kous~, Paus. 4, 27, 6).]\n\n[41\\4: ~kai\\ tethne\u00f4\\s kai\\ ta/richos e\u00f4\\n du/namin pro\\s the\u00f4=n\ne/chei to\\n adike/onta ti/nesthai~, Hdt. ix, 120.]\n\n[42\\4: No detailed proof of this statement is needed. We will only\nremark that the attempt to conceal the grave is often met with among\nso-called \"savage\" tribes and has the same purpose as in the Greek\nHero-cult: cf. on this subject Herbert Spencer, _Princ. of Sociol._\ni, p. 176.]\n\n[43\\4: See Helbig, _D. hom. Epos aus Denkm._^1, p. 41.]\n\n[44\\4: See above, p. 23.]\n\n[45\\4: ~B~ 603 ~hoi\\ d' e/chon Arkadi/\u00ean hupo\\ Kull\u00ea/n\u00eas o/ros\naipu/, Aipu/tion para\\ tu/mbon~.--Cf. Paus. 8, 16, 2-3.--In the\nTroad the frequently mentioned ~I/lou s\u00ea=ma~, the ~s\u00ea=ma\npoluska/rthmoio Muri/n\u00eas~ which \"men\" call ~Bati/eia~, were similar\nmonuments.]\n\n[46\\4: The ceremonial announcement of death, the ~katamiai/nesthai~\nof the proper persons (as usual the next of kin to the dead); the\nassembling of Spartiates Perioikoi and Helots (cf. Tyrt. _fr._ 7)\nwith their women to the number of several thousands, the extravagant\nexpression of grief and praise of the dead, the period of mourning\n(no business in the market for ten days, etc.)--all this is\ndescribed by Hdt. vi, 58. He compares this grandiose funeral with\nthe pomp customary at the burial of an Asiatic (Persian)\nmonarch.--The Lycurgan ~no/moi~ by these funeral rites ~ouch h\u00f4s\nanthr\u00f4/pous all' h\u00f4s _h\u00ea/r\u00f4as_ tou\\s Lakedaimoni/\u00f4n~ {145}\n~basilei=s protetim\u00ea/kasin~, Xen., _Rep. Lac._ xv, 9. King Agis I\n~e/tuche semnote/ras \u00ea\\ kat' a/nthr\u00f4pon taph\u00ea=s~, Xen., _HG._ 3, 3,\n1.--A peculiar circumstance at the burial of a Spartan king is\nmentioned by Apollod., _fr._ 36.--The burial places of the royal\nHouses of the Agiadai and the Eurypontidai (apart even in their\ndeath), Paus. 3, 12, 8; 14, 2 (cf. Bursian, _Geog._ ii,\n126).--Embalming of the body of a king who dies abroad, Xen., _HG._\n5, 3, 19: D.S. 15, 93, 6; Nep., _Ages._ 8; Plu., _Ages._\n40.--Besides this the participation in primitive times of the whole\npeople in the funeral of the Herakleid kings in Corinth may probably\nbe deduced from the story told of the compulsory attendance of the\nMegarian subjects of Corinth at the funeral at Corinth of a king of\nthe Bakchiad family: Sch. Pi., _N._ vii, 155 (cf. _AB._ 281, 27 ff.;\nZenob. v, 8; Dgn. vi, 34). In Crete ~t\u00f4=n basile/\u00f4n k\u00eadeuome/n\u00f4n\npro\u00eagei=to purrichi/z\u00f4n ho strato/s~ (as at the funeral of Patroklos,\n~Ps~ 131 ff.), Arist. ap. Schol. V., ~Ps~ 130.]\n\n[47\\4: ~Eupatri/dai, hoi . . . mete/chontes tou= basilikou=\nge/nous~, _EM._ 395, 50.--Thus the Bakchiadai in Corinth were\ndescendants of the royal family of the house of Bakchis. The\n~Basili/dai~, a ruling family of oligarch nobles in Ephesos (Ael.\n_fr._ 48), Erythrai (Arist., _Pol._ 1305b, 19), and perhaps Chios as\nwell (see Gilbert, _Gr. Alt._ ii, 153), also traced back their\ndescent to the old kings of those Ionic cities. Respect paid to\nthose who were descended ~ek tou= ge/nous~ of Androklos at Ephesos,\nStra. 633.--The Aigid Admetos, priest of Apollo Karneios at Thera\nwas descended ~Lakedai/monos ek basil\u00ea/\u00f4n~, _Epigr. Gr._ 191; 192.]\n\n[48\\4: Here some reference might have been expected to Fustel de\nCoulanges' brilliant and penetrating work _La Cit\u00e9 antique_. In that\nbook the attempt is made to fix upon ancestor-worship, _la religion\ndu foyer et des anc\u00eatres_, as the root of all the higher types of\nworship (among the Greeks: only that part of the book concerns us\nhere); and to show how out of these ancestor-worshipping\naggregations, begun by the family, larger communities of\never-widening membership developed, and finally out of these the\n~po/lis~ itself--the highest and most extensive political as well as\nreligious community of all. For the author of that book the proof of\nhis theory lies entirely in the simple logical consequence with\nwhich the details and, as far as we know it, the development of both\nprivate and public law follow from the original causes adopted by\nhim essentially as postulates. A strictly historical proof that\nshould not have to deduce the original causes from the results but\nshould start from known beginnings and demonstrate the actual\nexistence of every step was indeed an impossibility. The whole\nhistorical process must have been already finished when our\nknowledge first begins: for Homer shows us the ~po/lis~ and its\ncomponent parts (~kri=n' a/ndras kata\\ phu=la kata\\ phr\u00ea/tras\nAga/memnon~) as well as the worship of the gods as fully established\nand developed. It is no disparagement of the valuable and fruitful\nsuggestions made in that book if we say that its leading idea--as\nfar as Greece is concerned--cannot be considered as more than an\nintuition, which though it may be just and true, must remain\nunproved. If there ever was a time when ancestor-worship was the\nonly Greek religion at least we cannot see into that dim epoch long\nanterior to all tradition. To that remote period long before both\nthe all-powerful religion of the gods and the earliest records of\nthe Greek genius, even the narrow and slippery path of inference and\nreconstruction will hardly lead us. Natural as it might seem,\ntherefore, so far as the subject itself is concerned to deal with\nsuch questions, I have taken no notice in the {146} present work of\nany attempts to deduce Greek religion from an original sole worship\nof ancestors (such as have been made by many scholars besides F. de\nCoulanges both in England and in Germany).]\n\n[49\\4: Those worshipped by a ~ge/nos~ regarded as its progenitors,\n~gonei=s~: _AB._ 240, 31 ~(ta\\ thu/mata di/d\u00f4sin) eis ta\\ _gone/\u00f4n_\n(hiera\\) ta\\ ge/n\u00ea~.--Physical relationship between the ~genn\u00ea=tai~,\noriginally a fact though afterwards only occasionally demonstrable,\nis indicated by the ancient name ~homoga/laktes~ applied to the\nmembers of the same clan (Philoch. _fr._ 91-4) and meaning strictly\n~pai=des kai\\ pai/d\u00f4n pai=des~ (Arist., _Pol._ 1252b, 18).--The word\n~pa/tra~ with the same meaning as ~ge/nos~ (~Midulida=n pa/tra~,\nPi., _P._ viii, 38), makes it still more clear that the members of\nsuch a group are regarded as the descendants of a single ancestor.\nSee Dikaiarch. ap. St. Byz. ~pa/tra~.]\n\n[50\\4: Whose names were chosen by the voice of the Delphic oracle\nout of a hundred submitted to the Pythia. Arist. ~Athp.~ 21, 6. Cf.\nMommsen, _Philol._, N.F. i, 456 f.]\n\n[51\\4: Instead of the common ~ep\u00f4/numoi~ we also find the word\n~_arch\u00ea/getai_~ used of the Heroes of the phylai: Ar. ~G\u00ea=ras~,\n_fr._ 126 H.-G. (_AB._ 449, 14); Pl., _Lys._ 205 D, cf. _CIA._ ii,\n1191; 1575. It is even plainer that the Hero is regarded as the\nancestor of his ~phul\u00ea/~ when he is called ~_arch\u00eago/s_~: thus\nOineus was the ~arch\u00eago/s~ of the Oine\u00efdai, Kekrops the ~arch\u00eago/s~\nof the Kekropidai, Hippotho\u00f6n ~arch\u00eago/s~ of the Hippotho\u00f6ntidai in\n[Dem.] 60, 30-1. The ~arch\u00eago\\s tou= ge/nous~ is its physical\nforebear and progenitor, Poll. iii, 19: thus Apollo ~arch\u00eago\\s tou=\nge/nous~ of the Seleucids, _CIG._ 3595, 26; cf. Isocr. 5, 32. Thus\ntoo the members of a phyle are actually described as the\n~suggenei=s~ of their Hero eponymos: [Dem.] 60, 28.]\n\n[52\\4: Thus we know of both ~d\u00ea=mos~ and ~ge/nos~ of the Ionidai,\nPhila\u00efdai, Boutadai (for the intentional distinctness of the\nEteoboutadai see Meier, p. 39), Kephalidai, Peritho\u00efdai, etc.:\nMeier, _de gentil. Attica_, p. 35. Such demes were called ~apo\\ t\u00f4=n\nktisa/nt\u00f4n~, others ~apo\\ t\u00f4=n to/p\u00f4n~: Arist. ~Athp.~ 21, 5 (in\nwhich case a name as much like a personal name as possible was\nextracted out of the place-name and made into the local Hero: cf.\nWachsm., _Stadt Athen_, ii, 1, 248 ff.). Similar conditions existed\nat other places. In Teos the same names occur as ~pu/rgoi (= d\u00ea=moi~\nand ~summori/ai (= ge/n\u00ea~, e.g. ~Kol\u00f4ti/\u00f4n, tou= Alki/mou pu/rgou,\nAlkimi/d\u00eas~ (also names which differ ~Nai/\u00f4n, tou= M\u00eara/dou pu/rgou,\nBruski/d\u00eas~), _CIG._ 3064, where see B\u00f6ckh II, p. 651. In Rhodos a\n~pa/tra~ as well as its larger inclusive group (~ktoi/na~) is called\n~Amphinei=s~: _IGM. Aeg._ i, 695, ~Amphine/\u00f4n pa/trai; Euteli/dai,\nAmphinei=s~, etc. (Ancestor worship ~progonika\\ hiera/~ in the\nRhodian ~ktoi=nai~ is vouched for by Hesych. ~ktu/nai~: see Martha,\n_BCH._ iv, 144.)]\n\n[53\\4: Thus the descendants of Bakchis in Corinth traced their\ndescent to Aletes (D.S. 7, 9, 4; Paus. 2, 4, 3); the descendants of\nAipytos in Messenia to Kresphontes (Paus. 4, 3, 8), the descendants\nof Agis and Eurypon in Sparta to Eurysthenes and Prokles. The real\nancestors were in these cases well known and could not be entirely\neclipsed (being too deeply rooted in cult); thus later, as well as\nin the earlier period, these same families are called ~Bakchi/dai,\nAiputi/dai~, not ~H\u00earaklei=dai~ (D.S., loc. cit., Paus. 4, 3, 8);\nthe Spartan royal families are still Agidai, Eurypontidai, while the\nfictitious ancestors Eurysthenes and Prokles never quite achieved\nthe status of ~arch\u00eage/tai~: Ephoros ap. Str. 366. In many other,\nperhaps more numerous, cases the fictitious ancestor may have ousted\nthe real and once better known from men's minds altogether.]\n\n[54\\4: [Arist.] _Mirab._ 106.] {147}\n\n[55\\4: See Paus. 10, 4, 10. In an oracle ap. Plu., _Sol._ 9:\n~_arch\u00eagou\\s_ ch\u00f4/ras thusi/ais _h\u00ea/r\u00f4as_ enoi/kous hi/laso~.]\n\n[56\\4: Plu., _Arist._ 11, names seven ~arch\u00eage/tai Plataie/\u00f4n~;\nClem. Al., _Protr._ ii, 35 P., gives four of these (~Kuklai=os~\nseems to be a mistake). Androkrates seems to have been the most\nprominent; his ~te/menos~ is mentioned by Hdt. ix, 25, his\n~h\u00ear\u00f4=|on~ Thuc. iii, 24, 1; it stood in a thick grove, Paus. loc.\ncit.]\n\n[57\\4: Paus. 6, 24, 9-10.]\n\n[58\\4: A.R. ii, 835-50, says that this Hero was Idmon the prophet,\nothers called him Agamestor. Sch. ad 845: ~le/gei de\\ kai\\\npromathi/das, ho/ti dia\\ to\\ agnoei=n ho/stis ei/\u00ea _epich\u00f4/rion\nh\u00ea/r\u00f4a_ kalou=sin hoi H\u00earakle\u00f4=tai~. He was the local daimon\nworshipped on the spot before the colony came, and then taken over\nby the colonists for their own. Cf. the case of Rhesos, above, n.\n36.]\n\n[59\\4: Paus. 6, 20, 15-19. It was a round altar, according to many\n~ta/phos andro\\s auto/chthonos kai\\ agathou= ta\\ es hippik\u00ea/n~--the\ngrave and altar being one as was the grave and altar of Aiakos at\nAegina, Paus. 2, 29, 8--whose name was Olenios. Acc. to others it\nwas the grave of Dameon son of Phlious and of his horse; or the\n~keno\\n \u00eari/on~ of Myrtilos set up in his honour by Pelops; or of\nOinomaos; or of Alkatho\u00f6s son of Porthaon, one of the suitors of\nHippodameia--to say nothing of the learned suggestion of the ~an\u00ea\\r\nAigu/ptios~ given by Paus. l.c. as a last resort. Acc. to Hesych.\n~tara/xippos~ it belonged to Pelops himself, acc. to Lyc. 42 f. to a\ngiant called Ischenos (see Sch. and Tz.). Besides all this a\n~tara/xippos~ seems to have been almost indispensable on the\nracecourses of the great games. The Isthmus and Nemea had theirs as\nwell (Paus. \u00a7 19)--and Paus. 10, 37, 4, mentions it as something\nunusual that the course at Delphi had no ~tara/xippos~. Cf. Pollak,\n_Hippodromica_, p. 91 ff., 1890.]\n\n[60\\4: ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s eu/odos~, _CIG._ 4838b, cf. Welcker, _Rhein. Mus._,\nN.F. vii, 618--~kalami/t\u00eas h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~ (Dem. 18, 129, with Sch. and\nHesych. s.v.)--~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s teichophu/lax en Muri/n\u00ea|~, Hesych.--~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s\nepite/gios~, _CIA._ iii, 1, 290, and 1, 194-206, see Hiller v.\nG\u00e4rt., _Philol._ 55, 180 f.--With place-names ~ho epi\\ blau/t\u00ea|\nh\u00ea/r\u00f4s~, Poll. vii, 87--~h\u00ea/roin em pedi/\u00f4|~, Att. ins. ap., _Leg.\nSacr._ i, p. 5.--In Epidauros on an architrave occurs the inscr.\n~h\u00ea/r\u00f4os kla\u00efkopho/rou~, _F. d'Epid._ i, n. 245. ~t\u00f4=|\nkla\u00efkopho/r\u00f4|~ also occurs in an inscr. from Mt. Ithome, _Leg.\nSacr._, p. 36 (n. 15, l. 11).--Probably to this class belongs the\n~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s pa/nops~ at Athens, Pl. _Lys._ init.; Hesych. Phot. s.v.]\n\n[61\\4: ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s iatro/s~ in Athens, _CIA._ ii, 403-4, see below.--A\n~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s strat\u00eago/s~ is mentioned by a (late ins. ~Eph. Arch.~, 1884,\np. 170, l. 53. From their activities are named also the Heroes\nMatton, Keraon in Sparta, Deipneus in Achaea (Polemon: Ath. ii, 39\nC; iv, 173 F).--The ~Stephan\u00eapho/rou h\u00ear\u00f4=|on~ was mentioned by\nAntiph., ~stephan\u00ea/phoros h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~ by Hellan., but his name was\nunknown: Harp. Phot. Suid. s.v.; _AB._ 301, 19 ff. Cf. B\u00f6ckh, _Econ.\nof Ath._^2, p. 144 Lew.; _CIG._ 1, p. 168.]\n\n[62\\4: In Phaleron there was an altar, ~kalei=tai de\\\n\"h\u00ea/r\u00f4os\"~--the learned declared it to be an altar of Androgeos the\nson of Minos: Paus. 1, 1, 4.--Cf. 10, 36, 6: ~Charadrai/ois~ (at\nCharadra in Phocis) ~H\u00ear\u00f4/\u00f4n kaloume/n\u00f4n~ (i.e. they were _called_\n\"the Heroes\") ~eisi\\n en t\u00ea=| agora=| b\u00f4moi/, kai\\ autou\\s hoi me\\n\nDioskou/r\u00f4n, hoi de\\ epich\u00f4ri/\u00f4n phasi\\n ei=nai h\u00ear\u00f4/\u00f4n.--h\u00ear\u00f4i,\nh\u00ear\u00f4\u00ef/n\u00ea|~ a sacrifice is offered at Marathon: sacrificial Calendar\nof the Attic Tetrapolis (fourth century B.C.) in _Leg. Sacr._ i, p.\n48. ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4i, h\u00ear\u00f4\u00ef/n\u00ea|~, ib., p. 2; _CIA._ i, 4: fifth\ncentury.--Decree ordering a record to be set up in the Peiraeus\n~para\\ to\\n h\u00ea/r\u00f4~, _SIG._ 834, 26; _CIA._ ii, 1546-7: ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4|\nane/th\u00eaken ho dei=na~. Roehl, _IG._ {148} _Ant._ 29: (Mykenai) ~tou=\nh\u00ea/r\u00f4o/s \u00eami~, cf. Furtw\u00e4ngler, _Ath. Mitth._ 1896, p. 9; ib. 323;\n~ane/th\u00eakan t\u00f4=| h\u00ear\u00f4i~ (Locris).--On the different superimposed\nlayers of stucco on the so-called **Hero\u00f6n west of the Altis at\nOlympia were the ins. ~H\u00ea/r\u00f4os, H\u00ea/r\u00f4or~, and once also ~H\u00ear\u00f4/\u00f4n~.\nThere seems to me to be no reason to suppose that this nameless Hero\nwas Iamos in particular, the ancestor of the Iamidai (as Curtius\ndoes, _Die Alt\u00e4re v. Olymp._, p. 25, _Abh. Berl. Ak._ 1881). For\nwhat reason should the name of this highly honoured oracular\nHero--which had by no means been forgotten--be suppressed? The name\nof the Hero was not given for the simple reason that it was unknown.\nNameless ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4es epich\u00f4/rioi~, who according to some had set up the\ngreat sacrificial altar of Zeus in Olympia, are mentioned by Paus.\n5, 13, 8. In some cases the namelessness of a Hero is explained by\nthe fear of uttering awful names, which esp. in the case of the\nspirits of the lower world are very frequently suppressed or\nreferred to by a circumlocution (cf. Erinyes and spirits of the\ndead, _Rh. Mus._ 50, 20, 3): cf. Ant. Lib. 13, p. 214, 19 W. This\nwas perhaps why Narkissos was called ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s sig\u00ealo/s~, Str. 404. On\nthe other hand, it was a special form of respect, at the sacrifice\nto a Hero, to call out his _name_: ~t\u00f4=| Artachai/\u00ea| thu/ousi\nAka/nthioi ek theopropi/ou h\u00f4s h\u00ea/r\u00f4\u00ef epounoma/zontes to\\ ou/noma~,\nHdt. vii, 117. ~Hu/la| thu/ousin kai\\ auto\\n ex ono/matos eis tri\\s\nho hiereu\\s ph\u00f4nei= ktl.~ Anton. Lib. 26 fin. Cf. Paus. 8, 26, 7;\n~epikalou/menoi to\\n Mui/agron~.--No one will miss the obvious\nanalogy with the worship of the gods. In many places in Greece\nnameless (or merely \"adjectival\") gods were worshipped, ~a/gn\u00f4stoi\ntheoi/~, as at Olympia, Paus. 5, 14, 8, and elsewhere. At Phaleron\n~b\u00f4moi\\ the\u00f4=n te onomazome/n\u00f4n agn\u00f4/st\u00f4n kai\\ h\u00ear\u00f4/\u00f4n~ (sc.,\n~agn\u00f4/st\u00f4n~?) Paus. 1, 1, 4. (~agn\u00f4=tes theoi\\~ Poll. viii, 119.\nHesych. s.v.: ~b\u00f4moi\\ an\u00f4/numoi~ in Attica D.L. i, 110.)]\n\n[63\\4: ~Tlapole/m\u00f4| archage/ta|~ Pi., _O._ vii, 78; _P._ v, 56. The\nregular custom is mentioned by Ephorus ap. Str. 366: ~oud'\narch\u00eage/tas nomisth\u00ea=nai; ho/per pa=sin apodi/dotai oikistai=s~.]\n\n[64\\4: ~D\u00eamoklei/d\u00ean de\\ katast\u00ea=sai t\u00ea\\n apoiki/an _autokra/tora_~.\nOfficial decree about Brea: _CIA._ i, 31 [Hicks and Hill^2, n. 41,\nl. 8].]\n\n[65\\4: Pi., _P._ v, 87 ff.]\n\n[66\\4: Hdt. vi, 38.]\n\n[67\\4: D.S. 11, 66, 4.]\n\n[68\\4: Hdt. i, 168.]\n\n[69\\4: Thuc. v, 11.--Thus in the fourth century at Sikyon Euphron\nthe leader of the demos has been murdered by some of the other\nparty, but ~hoi poli=tai autou= h\u00f4s a/ndra agatho\\n komisa/menoi\ne/thapsa/n te en t\u00ea=| agora=| kai\\ h\u00f4s arch\u00eage/t\u00ean t\u00ea=s po/le\u00f4s\nse/bontai~, Xen., _HG._ 7, 4, 12.]\n\n[70\\4: Worship of the law-givers of Tegea as Heroes: Paus. 8, 48, 1.]\n\n[71\\4: In the case of Sophokles the \"heroizing\" had a special\nsuperstitious reason. He had once received Asklepios as a guest into\nhis house (and established a worship of A.) and was therefore\nregarded as especially favoured by heaven and after his death\nworshipped as Hero ~Dexi/\u00f4n~: _EM._ 256, 7-13. (In the temple of\nAmynos, an Asklepiad daimon, on the west of the Akropolis an\nhonorific decree dating from the end of the fourth century B.C. has\nbeen discovered, referring to the ~orge\u00f4=nes tou= _Dexi/\u00f4nos_~\ntogether with those of Amynos and Asklepios: _Ath. Mitt._ 1896, p.\n299.) In this way many mortals who had entertained the gods as\nguests were themselves made Heroes, cf. Deneken, _de Theoxen._ c, ii.]\n\n[72\\4: In the examples collected in n. 35 above the removal of the\nHero's bones was in each case commanded by the Delphic oracle.\nTypical examples of the foundation of an annual festival of a Hero\non {149} the recommendation of an oracle: Hdt. i, 167; Paus. 8, 23,\n7; 9, 38, 5.]\n\n[73/4: Plu. _Cim._ 19--his authority is Nausikrates ~ho rh\u00ea/t\u00f4r~ the\npupil of Isokrates. The god ordered ~m\u00ea\\ amelei=n Ki/m\u00f4nos~. Kimon's\nspirit was thus expressing its anger at the \"neglect\" by sending\npestilence and ~g\u00ea=s aphori/a~--he wanted a cult.]\n\n[74\\4: Appearance at the battle of Marathon, command of the oracle\n~tima=n Echetlai=on h\u00ea/r\u00f4a~, Paus. 1, 32, 5.--Swarm of bees in the\nsevered head of Onesilos at Amathos; the oracle orders his head to\nbe buried ~On\u00easi/l\u00f4| de\\ thu/ein h\u00f4s h\u00ea/r\u00f4i ana\\ pa=n e/tos~, Hdt.\nv, 114.]\n\n[75\\4: Before the battle of Plataea: Plu., _Arist._ 11. Before the\noccupation of Salamis the oracle ordered Solon ~arch\u00eagou\\s h\u00ea/r\u00f4as\n_hi/laso_~, Plu. _Sol._ 9.]\n\n[76\\4: The Persian Artachaies, of the family of the Achaimenidai,\nwas given a burial of great pomp after his death, by Xerxes at\nAkanthos: ~thu/ousi Aka/nthioi ek theopropi/ou h\u00f4s h\u00ear\u00f4i\nepounoma/zontes to\\ ou/noma~, Hdt. vii, 117 (--the ~Artachai/ou\nta/phos~ remained a well-known spot, Ael., _HA._ xiii, 20). It is\nhardly likely that the unusual size of the Persian of which Hdt.\nspeaks was the cause of his being made a Hero by the oracle.]\n\n[77\\4: Paus. 6, 9, 6-7. Plu., _Rom._ 28. Oinom. ap. Eus., _PE._ 5,\n34, p. 230 C (Vig.). Celsus _c. Xt._ also refers to the miracle,\nOr., _Cels._ iii, 33, p. 292 L. Cf. iii, 3, p. 256; iii, 25, p. 280.]\n\n[78\\4: Kleomedes ~moi/ra| t\u00f4i\\ daimoni/a| _die/pt\u00ea_ apo\\ t\u00ea=s\nkib\u00f4tou=~, Cels. ap. Orig., _Cels._ iii, 33, p. 293 L. Oinom. ap.\nEuseb., _PE._ 5, 34, 1, (p. 296 Giff.): ~hoi theoi\\ _an\u00earei/psanto/_\nse h\u00f4/sper hoi tou= Hom\u00ea/rou to\\n Ganum\u00ea/d\u00ean~. Thus the gods, acc.\nto the popular opinion derided by Oinom., gave Kleomedes\n_immortality_, ~athanasi/an e/d\u00f4kan~, p. 297 Giff.]\n\n[79\\4: We rarely hear of other oracles directing Heroes to be\nworshipped. But cf. Xenag. ap. Macr. 5, 18, 30: on the occasion of a\nfailure of the crops at Sicily ~e/thusan Pediokra/t\u00ea| tini\\ h\u00ea/r\u00f4i\nprosta/xantos autoi=s tou= ek Palik\u00f4=n chr\u00east\u00eari/ou~.--This Hero is\nprobably the same as Pediakrates, one of the six ~strat\u00eagoi/~ of the\n~egch\u00f4/rioi Sikanoi/~ in Sicily who were slain by Herakles and\n~me/chri tou= nu=n h\u00ear\u00f4\u00efk\u00ea=s tim\u00ea=s tucha/nousin~. D.S. 4, 23, 5:\nfrom Timaeus?]\n\n[80\\4: The lines of the oracle about Kleomedes may very well be\nancient (~e/schatos h\u00ear\u00f4/\u00f4n ktl.~) simply on the ground that its\nassertion had not been fulfilled. If oracles that come true are\nrightly regarded as subsequent to the events which they profess to\nforesee, then it is only reasonable to regard an oracle which is\nproved incorrect by later events as _earlier_ than the events which\ncontradict its prophecy.]\n\n[81\\4: ~hou=tos ga\\r ho theo\\s peri\\ ta\\ toiau=ta pa=sin anthr\u00f4/pois\npa/trios ex\u00eag\u00eat\u00ea\\s en me/s\u00f4| t\u00ea=s g\u00ea=s epi\\ tou= omphalou=\nkath\u00ea/menos ex\u00eagei=tai~, in the words of Plato, _Rp._ 427 C.]\n\n[82\\4: ~gi/netai en Delphoi=s h\u00ea/r\u00f4si xe/nia, en hoi=s dokei= ho\ntheo\\s epi\\ xe/nia kalei=n tou\\s h\u00ea/r\u00f4as~, Sch. Pi. _N._ vii, 68.]\n\n[83\\4: Plu., _Arist._ 21.--Grave of the Megarians who had fallen in\nthe Persian wars, erected in the market of that city: _CIG._ 1051 (=\nSim., _fr._ 107 _PLG._), Paus. 1, 43, 3. We hear nothing of the\nHero-worship of these men, but it is natural to suppose it.--Thus in\nPhigaleia in the market place there was a common grave of the\nhundred Oresthasians who had died fighting for Phigaleia, ~kai\\ h\u00f4s\n_h\u00ea/r\u00f4sin_ autoi=s enagi/zousin ana\\ pa=n e/tos~, Paus. 8, 41, 1.]\n\n[84\\4: Paus. 1, 32, 4: ~se/bontai de\\ hoi Marath\u00f4/nioi tou/tous,\nhoi\\ para\\ t\u00ea\\n ma/ch\u00ean ape/thanon _h\u00ea/r\u00f4as_ onoma/zontes~. They lay\nburied on the field of battle, Paus. 1, 29, 4; 32, 3. Every night\ncould be heard the neighing {150} of horses and the sound of battle.\nThose who attempted to witness the doings of the spirits suffered\nfor it, Paus. l.c. The sight of the spirits made men blind or killed\nthem. This is well known of gods--~chalepoi\\ de\\ theoi\\ phai/nesthai\nenarg\u00f4=s~. As to the results of seeing a Hero cf. the story in Hdt.\nvi, 117.]\n\n[85\\4: Pi., _I._ iv, 26 ff.; cf. _N._ iv, 46 ff.]\n\n[86\\4: Hdt. ii, 44, has recourse to the idea that there was a\ndifference between the god Herakles and the Hero Herakles the son of\nAmphitryon: ~kai\\ doke/ousi de/ moi hou=toi ortho/tata Hell\u00ea/n\u00f4n\npoie/ein, hoi\\ dixa\\ H\u00eara/kleia hidrusa/menoi e/kt\u00eantai kai\\ t\u00f4=|\nme\\n h\u00f4s athana/t\u00f4| Olumpi/\u00f4| de\\ ep\u00f4numi/\u00ean thu/ousi, t\u00f4=| de\\\nhete/r\u00f4| h\u00f4s h\u00ea/r\u00f4\u00ef enagi/zousi~. Combination of ~thu/ein~ and\n~enagi/zein~ in one sacrifice to Herakles, at Sikyon: Paus. 2, 10,\n1. Herakles ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s theo/s~ Pi., _N._ iii, 22.]\n\n[87\\4: Varying worship of the same person as Hero and as god, e.g.\nAchilles. He was a god in Epirus for example (called upon as\n~A/spetos~, Plu., _Pyr._ 1) in Astypalaia (Cic., _ND._ iii, 45) in\nErythrai (third century ins. _SIG._ 600, 50, 75), etc. As Hero he\nwas worshipped in Elis where an empty grave was erected to him ~ek\nmantei/as~, and where at his annual festival at sunset the women\n~ko/ptesthai nomi/zousin~, i.e. lament over him as dead. Paus. 6,\n23, 3.]\n\n[88\\4: I shall not multiply examples and only note Plu., _M. Virt._,\np. 255 E: ~t\u00ea=| Lampsa/k\u00ea| pro/teron h\u00ear\u00f4\u00efka\\s tima\\s apodido/ntes,\nhu/steron h\u00f4s the\u00f4=| thu/ein eps\u00eaphi/santo~.]\n\n[89\\4: In the well-known lines ~h\u00ea/keis \u00f4= Lu/ko/orge ktl.~ Hdt.\ni, 65.]\n\n[90\\4: Thus Eupolis calls the Hero Akademos ~theo/s~, as Sophokles\ndoes the Hero Kolonos, and others do the same, see Nauck on Soph.,\n_OC._ 65.]\n\n[91\\4: ~hoi h\u00ea/r\u00f4es kai\\ hai h\u00ear\u00f4i/des toi=s theoi=s to\\n auto\\n\ne/chousi lo/gon~ (i.e. for dream-interpretation), ~pl\u00ea\\n ho/sa\nduna/me\u00f4s apolei/pontai~, Artemid. iv, 78.--Paus. 10, 31, 11: the\nancients considered the Eleusinian mysteries as ~tosou=ton\nentimo/teron~ than all other religious ceremonies ~ho/s\u00f4| kai\\\ntheou\\s epi/prosthen h\u00ear\u00f4/\u00f4n~.]\n\n[92\\4: Machaon's ~mn\u00ea=ma~ and ~hiero\\n ha/gion~ at Gerenia, Paus. 3,\n26, 9. His bones had been brought by Nestor when he came home from\nTroy: \u00a7 10. Cf. Schol. Marc. and Tz. Lyc. 1048. The first to\nsacrifice to him was Glaukos the son of Aipytos: Paus. 4, 3,\n9.--Podaleirios. His ~h\u00ear\u00f4=|on~ lay at the foot of the ~lo/phos\nDri/on~ by Mt. Garganus 100 stades from the sea, ~rhei= de\\ ex\nautou= pota/mion pa/nakes pro\\s ta\\s t\u00f4=n thremma/t\u00f4n no/sous~, Str.\n284. The method of _incubation_ given in the text is described by\nLyc. 1047-55. He also speaks of a river Althainis (so called because\nof its medicinal properties, cf. _EM._ 63, 3, from Schol. Lyc.),\nwhich cured disease if one sprinkled oneself with water from it.--?\nfrom Timaeus, cf. Tz. on 1050. (Cf. also the spring by the\nAmphiaraion at Oropos: Paus. 1, 34, 4.)]\n\n[93\\4: Paus. 2, 38, 6.--The brother of Polemokrates, Alexanor, had a\n**hero\u00f6n at Titane in the territory of Sikyon: Paus. 2, 11, 7; 23,\n4; but we hear nothing of sick-cures (though his name would lead us\nto suspect such).--Other Asklepiadai: Nikomachos, Gorgasos, Sphyros\n(Wide, _Lac. Culte_, 195).]\n\n[94\\4: Sanctuary of ~H\u00ea/r\u00f4s iatro/s~ near the Theseion: Dem. 19,\n249; 18, 129; Apollon., _V. Aesch._, p. 265, 5 f. West. Decree about\nmelting down silver votive-offerings (third and second century),\n_CIA._ ii, 403-4.--Acc. to Usener (_G\u00f6tternamen_, 149-53) ~Iatro/s~\nis to be regarded as the _proper_ name of this Hero (really a\nfunctional \"_Sondergott_\") and not as an adjectival description of a\nnameless Hero (as in ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s strat\u00eago/s, stephan\u00eapho/ros,\nkla\u00efkopho/ros~--this last in two different places, like ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s\niatro/s~, see above, n. 61). Acc. to {151} his view ~Iatro/s~ was\ngiven the adj. title ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~ to distinguish him from a ~theo\\s\nIatro/s~. But this would only be possible if there existed a god who\nwas not merely an ~iatro/s~ and so called by this title, like\n~Apo/ll\u00f4n, Poseid\u00f4=n iatro/s~, but whose _proper name_ was\n~Iatro/s~. But there was no such god. Usener (151) infers the\nexistence of a god ~Iatro/s~ out of the proper name ~Iatrokl\u00ea=s~.\nBut this would only be justifiable if there were not a whole host of\nproper names compounded with ~-kl\u00ea=s~, the first part of which is\nanything but a god's name (list in Fick, _Griech. Personennamen_^2,\np. 165 ff.).--There seems no real reason for understanding the name\n~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s iatro/s~ differently from the analogous ~h\u00ea/. strat\u00eago/s,\nh\u00ea/. teichophu/lax~, etc.--There existed besides even ~nu/mphai\niatroi/, peri\\ \u00calei/an~. Hesych.]\n\n[95\\4: _CIA._ ii, 404, distinguishes the Hero referred to by the\ndecree as the ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s iatro\\s ho en a/stei~. This clearly implies a\nsecond ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s iatro/s~, outside Athens. But the Rhet. Lex. in _AB._\n262, 16 f. (cf. Sch. Dem., p. 437, 19-20 Di.), speaks of a ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s\niatro/s~ called Aristomachos ~ho/s eta/ph\u00ea en Marath\u00f4=ni para\\ to\\\nDionu/sion~, who it is clear cannot be the ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s iatro\\s~ that\nDemosthenes meant--for he is ~ho en a/stei~; but the description\napplies very well to the Hero Physician worshipped in Attica outside\nthe ~a/stu~. See L. v. Sybel, _Hermes_, xx, 43.]\n\n[96\\4: Cenotaph of Kalchas in Apulia near the hero\u00f6n of Podaleirios,\nLyc. 1047 ff.--his body was said to be buried in Kolophon:\n~No/stoi~; Tz. Lyc. 427; Schol. D.P. 850. ~egkoi/m\u00easis~ at his\nhero\u00f6n, sleeping on the skin of the sacrificed ram: Str. 284; the\nsame as, acc. to Lycophron, in the temple of Podaleirios. It almost\nlooks like a mistake in either Strabo or Lyc. But the ritual may\nquite well have been the same in both temples and we find it again\nin the dream-oracle of Amphiaraos in Oropos, Paus. 1, 34, 5.--At the\npresent day the Archangel Michael is worshipped at Monte Sant'\nAngelo beneath Mt. Garganus. He appeared there during the fifth\ncentury and in a cave which is perhaps rightly regarded as the\nformer site of the incubation-oracle of Kalchas: Lenormant, _\u00e0\ntravers l'Apulie_, i, p. 61, Paris, 1883. S. Michael had in other\ncases also taken over the duties of the ancient _incubation_ mantic,\nand continued them in a Christian form--though the task belonged\nmore often to SS. Cosmas and Damian--e.g. in the Michaelion in\nConstantinople, the ancient ~S\u00f4sthe/nion~: see Malal., pp. 78-9\nBonn.; Soz., _HE._ ii, 3.]\n\n[97\\4: Lyc. 799 f. Arist. and Nicand. in Schol. ad loc. Was there a\nlegend that made Odysseus die there? Lyc. himself, it is true, gives\nquite a different story a little later (805 ff.), much to the\namazement of his scholiasts. Perhaps in 799 f. he was thinking, in\nspite of the dream oracle, only of a ~keno\\n s\u00ea=ma~ of Odysseus in\nAetolia (as in the case of Kalchas).]\n\n[98\\4: Grave of Prot.: Hdt. ix, 116 ff.; Lyc. 532 ff. ~hiero\\n tou=\nPr\u00f4tesila/ou~ Thuc. viii, 102, 3. Oracle: Philostr., _Her._ 678, p.\n146 f. K. It was esp. also an oracle of healing: ib., 147, 30 f. K.]\n\n[99\\4: An oracle \"_Sarpedonis in Troade_\" is mentioned in a cursory\nenumeration of oracular sites by Tert., _An._ 46. It is difficult to\nimagine how Sarpedon, the Homeric one--no other can be meant\nhere--whose body had been so ceremoniously brought to Lykia, can\nhave had an oracle in the Troad. It may be merely a slip of the pen\non Tertullian's part.--At Seleucia in Cilicia there was an oracle of\nApollo Sarpedonios, D.S. 32, 10, 2; Zos. 1, 57. Wesseling on D.S.\nii, p. 519, has already called attention to the more detailed\naccount in the _Vit. S. Theclae_ of Basilius bishop of Seleucia; see\nthe extracts given by R. K\u00f6hler, _Rhein. Mus._ 14, 472 ff. There the\noracle is described {152} as a dream-oracle of Sarpedon himself who\nwas consulted at his grave in Seleucia. It is also certain, as\nK\u00f6hler remarks, that Sarpedon, the son of Europa and brother of\nMinos, is meant. (This Cretan Sarpedon appears first in Hesiod and\nis quite distinct from the Homeric one: Aristonic. on ~Z~ 199.\nIndeed, Homer knows no other brother of Minos except Rhadamanthys:\n~X~ 322. In spite of this he was often regarded as the same as the\nHomeric Sarpedon who came from Lykia [cf. the name Zrpp\u00e4doni on the\nObelisk of Xanthos: _Lyc. Inscr._ tab. vii, l. 6]; acc. to\n[Apollod.] 3, 1, 3, he lived through three ~geneai/~, cf. Schol. V.,\n~Z~ 199: which seems a marvellous feat much in the manner of\nHellanikos. Others made the Cretan Sarp. into the grandfather of the\nLykian: D.S. 5, 79, 3.) The oracle belonged properly to Sarpedon;\nApollo seems merely to have been an intruder here and to have taken\nthe place of the Hero as he did with Hyakinthos at Amyklai. That\nSarpedon, however, was not therefore quite forgotten is shown by the\nChristian notice of him. Perhaps Apollo was regarded as merely the\npatron of the oracle whose real guardian was still Sarpedon. It\ncertainly indicates community of worship when Ap. is there called\n~Apo/ll\u00f4n Sarp\u00eado/nios~; so too in Tarentum--brought thither from\nSparta and Amyklai--there was a ~ta/phos para\\ me/n tisin\nHuaki/nthou prosagoreuo/menos, para\\ de/ tisin Apo/ll\u00f4nos\nHuaki/nthou~ (in which no alteration is necessary), Plb. 8, 30, 2.\nIn Goityn there was a cult of Atymnos (Solin. 11, 9, p. 73 Mom.),\nthe beloved of Apollo (or of Sarpedon): he too was worshipped as\nApollo Atymnios (Nonn., _D._ 11, 131; 258; 12, 217).]\n\n[100\\4: The inhabitants of Gadeira sacrificed to Men.; Philostr.,\n_VA._ 5, 4, p. 167, 10 K. ~to\\ Menesthe/\u00f4s _mantei=on_~ on the\nBaetis is mentioned by Str., p. 140. How it got there we do not\nknow.]\n\n[101\\4: Str. 546. Autol. came there as a sharer in the expedition of\nHerakles against the Amazons and with the Argonauts. A.R. ii,\n955-61. Plut., _Luc._ 23.]\n\n[102\\4: For Anios see Meineke, _An. Alex._ 16-17; Wentzel in\nPauly-Wissowa _Anios_. Apollo taught him the mantic art and gave him\ngreat ~tima/s~: D.S. 5, 62, 2. He is called ~ma/ntis~ also by Clem.\nAl., _Strom._ i, p. 400 P. Perhaps he was also a mantic Hero in the\ncult that was paid to him at Delos; in giving a list of the\n~dai/monas epich\u00f4ri/ous~, Clem. Al., _Protr._ ii, p. 35 P., mentions\nalso ~para\\ d' \u00calei/ous A/nion~, which Sylburg corrected to ~para\\\nD\u00eali/ois~. A priest of Anios ~hiereu\\s Ani/ou~ at Delos is given\n_CIA._ ii, 985 D 10; E 4, 53.]\n\n[103\\4: D.S. 5, 63, 2. There she is identified with Molpadia,\ndaughter of Staphylos. In that case ~h\u00eamithe/a~ would more probably\nbe an adjectival title of a Heroine whose real name was unknown,\nlike the names of the unknown Heroes mentioned above, nn. 60-2. The\ndaughter of Kyknos of the same name is quite a different person.]\n\n[104\\4: Plut., _Agis_, 9, cf. Cic., _Div._ i, 43. At Thalamai we\nhear of a dream-oracle of _Ino_ in front of which was a statue of\nPasipha\u00eb: Paus. 3, 26, 1. This probably means, as Welcker, _Kl.\nSchr._ iii, 92, says, that the same oracle had once belonged to\nPas., but had then been afterwards dedicated to Ino. (Not of course\nthat Pasipha\u00eb = Ino, and this is not suggested by W., but merely\nthat Ino may have taken the place of Pas.) A ~mantei=on t\u00ea=s\nPasiphi/l\u00eas~ is also mentioned by Apollon., _Mir._ 49: see also\nM\u00fcller, _FHG._ ii, 288 [see Keller, _Paradoxogr._, p. 55, 15].]\n\n[105\\4: Something of the kind seems to be suggested by Pi., _P._\nviii, 57: I praise Alkmaion ~gei/t\u00f4n ho/ti moi kai\\ ktea/n\u00f4n phu/lax\nem\u00f4=n hupa/ntase/ t' io/nti ga=s omphalo\\n par' aoi/dimon\nmanteuma/t\u00f4n t' epha/psato suggo/noisi {153} te/chnais~. Those\nmuch-discussed words I can only interpret as follows. Alkmaion had a\n~h\u00ear\u00f4=|on~ near Pindar's house: he could only be \"Guardian of his\npossessions\" if he were either the guardian spirit of his neighbour\nor if Pindar had deposited money for safe keeping in his temple--the\ncustom is well known, see B\u00fcchsensch\u00fctz, _Besitz in Cl. Alt._, p.\n508 ff. As Pindar was once thinking of going to Delphi \"Alk. applied\nhimself to the prophetic arts traditional in his family\"\n(~te/chnais~ to be connected with ~epha/ps.~, a construction common\nin Pind.): i.e. he made him a revelation in a dream--on what subject\nPindar does not say--as was customary in the family of the\nAmythaonidai, though not generally undertaken by Alkmaion (elsewhere\nwho unlike his brother Amphilochos nowhere seems to have had a\ndream-oracle of his own. (It seems to be a mere slip when Clem. Al.,\n_Str._ i, p. 400 P. attributes the Oracle in Akarnania to Alk.\ninstead of Amphil.)]\n\n[106\\4: Plu., _Q. Gr._, 40, 300 D.]\n\n[107\\4: Thus no herald might approach the hero\u00f6n of Okridion in\nRhodes, Plu., _Q. Gr._, 27, 297 C. No flute-player might approach,\nnor the name of Achilles be mentioned in the hero\u00f6n of Tenes at\nTenedos, ib., 28, 297 D. How an old grievance of a Hero might be\ncontinued into his after-life as a spirit is shown by an instructive\nexample given by Hdt. v, 67.]\n\n[108\\4: Paus. 9, 38, 5. The fetters were no doubt intended in such\ncases to fasten the statue (as the abode of the Hero himself) to the\nsite of his worship. Thus in Sparta an ~a/galma archai=on~ of\nEnyalios was kept in fetters. About this the ~gn\u00f4/m\u00ea t\u00f4=n\nLakedaimoni/\u00f4n~ was that ~ou/pote to\\n Enua/lion pheu/gonta\noich\u00ea/sesthai/ sphisin enecho/menon tai=s pe/dais~, Paus. 3, 15, 7.\nSimilar things elsewhere: Lob., _Agl._ 275; cf. again Paus. 8, 41,\n6. The striking effect of the statue fastened to the rocks may then\nvery well have given rise to the (aetiological) legend of the\n~pe/tran e/chon ei/d\u00f4lon~.]\n\n[109\\4: Hdt. vii, 169-70.]\n\n[110\\4: Hdt. vii, 134-7.]\n\n[111\\4: Sanctity of trees and groves dedicated to a Hero: Ael.,\n_VH._ v, 17: Paus. 2, 28, 7; but esp. 8, 24, 7.]\n\n[112\\4: The story of the wrath of the Hero of Anagyros is told, with\na few variations in detail, by Jerome ap. Suid. ~Ana/g. dai/m\u00f4n~ =\nApostol. ix, 79; Dgn., _Prov._ iii, 31 (in cod. Coisl., p. 219 f.\nG\u00f6tting.); cf. Zenob. ii, 55 = Dgn. i, 25. Similar stories of a\n~dai/m\u00f4n Kili/kios, Ai/neios~, are implied but not related by\nMacarius, iii, 18 (ii, p. 155 G\u00f6tt.).]\n\n[113\\4: The story in Suid. goes back to Hieron. Rhod. ~peri\\\ntrag\u00f4|diopoi\u00f4=n~ (_fr._ 4 Hill.), who compared the story with the\ntheme of the Euripides _Phoenix_.]\n\n[114\\4: According to Paus. the ghost was explained to be one of the\ncompanions of Odysseus. Strabo says more particularly Polites, who\nwas one of these. But a copy of an ancient picture representing the\nadventure called the daimon Lykas and made him black and\ngrim-looking and dressed in a wolf-skin. The last is probably merely\nsymbolic and represents _full_ wolf-shape such as belonged to the\nAthenian Hero Lykos: Harp. ~deka/z\u00f4n~. Wolf-shape given to a\ndeath-bringing spirit of the underworld, as often: cf. Roscher,\n_Kynanth._ 60-1. This must have been the more ancient form of the\nlegend and the daimon was only subsequently changed into a Hero.]\n\n[115\\4: The story in its general outline recalls esp. the other\nGreek legends in which similar rescues occur; we are reminded not\nmerely of the stories of Perseus and Andromeda or Herakles and\nHesione, but also of the fight of Herakles with Thanatos for the\nsake of Alkestis, {154} in Eurip., _Alc._, and of Koroibos' struggle\nwith the ~Poi/n\u00ea~ in Argos. But the story of Euthymos and the Hero\nof Temesa agrees even in its details with a story coming from a far\ndistant locality, Krisa at the foot of Mt. Parnassos, where lived\nthe monster Lamia, or Sybaris, who was overthrown by Eurybatos--as\nit is told in Nikander's ~Heteroiou/mena~, ap. Ant. Lib. viii--and\nis even to this day related as a fairy-tale; see B. Schmidt. _Gr.\nM\u00e4rchen_, 142, 246 f. It is unnecessary to suppose imitation of\neither legend by the other; both independently reproduce the same\nfairy-tale motif, which is in fact very common everywhere. The\nmonster overcome by the champion is regularly a chthonic being, a\nfiend from below: Thanatos, Poine, Lamia (which is the generic name,\n~Su/baris~ being apparently the special name of this particular\nLamia) and the ghostly \"Hero\" of Temesa.]\n\n[116\\4: Paus. 6, 6, 7-11, the main source; Str. 255; Ael., _VH._\nviii, 18; Plut. Paroem. ii, 31; Suid. ~Eu/thumos~. The \"translation\"\noccurs in Paus. Ael., and Suid. According to Aelian he went to the\nRiver Kaikinos near his old home Locri and disappeared:\n~aphanisth\u00ea=nai~. (The river-god Kaikinos is regarded as his real\nfather: Paus. 6, 6, 4.) Perhaps the hero\u00f6n of Euthymos may have been\nnear the river. \"Heroizing\" of Euthymos by a flash of lightning is\nconfirmed by his statue: Callim., _fr._ 399; Pliny, _NH._ 7, 152;\nSchol. Paus. _Hermes_, 29, 148. Inscription on base of statue of E.\nat Olympia: _Arch. Zeit._, 1878, p. 82.]\n\n[117\\4: Paus. 6, 11, 2-9; D. Chr. 31, 340 M. [i, 247 Arn.]. Cf.\nOinom. ap. Eus. _PE._ 5, 34, p. 231-2 V. Oinomaos 232 C refers to a\nsimilar legend of the _pentathlos_ Euthykles and his statue, at\nLocri.]\n\n[118\\4: The story of Mitys (or Bitys) in Argos is known from Arist.\n_Po._ 9, p. 1452a, 7 ff. (_Mirab._ 156). A few more such stories are\nrecorded in Wyttenbach, Plu. _M._ vii, p. 316 (Oxon.); cf. also\nTheoc. 23. Just as in the story of Theagenes, the statue was\npunished as responsible for the murder, so, too, the attribution of\na fetichistic personality to inanimate objects lies at the bottom of\nthe ancient customs observed in the Athenian murder laws, by which\njudgment was given in the Prytaneion ~peri\\ t\u00f4=n apsu/ch\u00f4n t\u00f4=n\nempeso/nt\u00f4n tini\\ kai\\ apokteina/nt\u00f4n~: Poll. viii, 120, after Dem.\n23, 76, cf. Arist. ~Athp.~ 57, 4. Such judgments cannot originally\nhave been merely symbolical in meaning.]\n\n[119\\4: Luc., _D. Conc._ 12; Paus. 6, 11, 9.]\n\n[120\\4: Luc., l.c. On Polydamas see Paus. 6, 5, and among many\nothers Eus. _Chron. Olympionic._, Ol. 93, p. 204 Sch.]\n\n[121\\4: His victory was won in Ol. 6 (see also Eus. _Chron._, Ol. 6,\np. 196); the statue erected to him only in Ol. 80; Paus. 7, 17, 6.]\n\n[122\\4: Paus. 7, 17, 13-14.]\n\n[123\\4: Plu., _Thes._ 35.]\n\n[124\\4: Paus. 1, 15, 3; 32, 5.]\n\n[125\\4: Hdt. viii, 38-9.]\n\n[126\\4: Hdt. viii, 64. The difference should be noted: ~_eu/xasthai_\ntoi=si theoi=si kai\\ _epikale/sasthai_ tou\\s Aiaki/das\n_summa/chous_~. So, too, we are told in Hdt. v, 75, that both the\nTyndaridai ~epi/kl\u00eatoi ei/ponto~ the Spartans into the field. (The\nAeginetans sent the Aiakidai to the help of the Thebans, but as they\nproved unprofitable the Thebans ~tou\\s Aiaki/das apedi/dosan~. Hdt.\nv, 80).]\n\n[127\\4: Plu., _Them._ 15.]\n\n[128\\4: Hdt. viii, 121.]\n\n[129\\4: Kychreus: Paus. 1, 36, 1. The Hero himself appeared as a\nsnake, as also e.g. Sosipolis in Elis before the battle, Paus. 6,\n20, 4-5; Erichthonios, Paus. 1, 24, 7: for ~hoi palaioi\\ ma/lista\nt\u00f4=n z\u00f4/\u00f4n to\\n dra/konta toi=s h\u00ea/r\u00f4si sun\u00f4|kei/\u00f4san~, Plu.,\n_Cleom._ 39. The temple snake, {155} the ~Kuchrei/d\u00eas o/phis~ kept\nat Eleusis, was undoubtedly the Hero himself; though acc. to the\nrationalizing account in Str. 393-4 it had merely been reared by\nKychreus.]\n\n[130\\4: Themistokles in Hdt. viii, 109.]\n\n[131\\4: Xen., _Cyn._ i, 17.]\n\n[132\\4: The Dioscuri helped the Spartans in war, Hdt. v, 75; the\nLocrian Aias the Locrians in Italy: Paus. 3, 19, 12-13; Conon 18\n(artistically elaborated and no longer naive legend but both taken\nfrom the same source).]\n\n[133\\4: Hdt. vi, 61 (hence Paus. 3, 7, 7); grave of Helen at\nTherapne, Paus. 3, 19, 8.]\n\n[134\\4: Hdt. vi, 69. Thus, too, the Theagenes mentioned above was\nregarded in Thasos not as the son of Timosthenes, ~tou= Theage/nous\nde\\ t\u00ea=| m\u00eatri\\ H\u00earakle/ous suggene/sthai pha/sma eoiko\\s\nTimosthe/nei~, Paus. 6, 11, 2.--Everyone will be reminded, too, of\nthe fable of Zeus and Alkmene. But it should be noticed how near\nsuch stories as that so naively told by Herod. approach the risky\nnovel-plot in which some profane mortal visits in disguise an\nunsuspecting woman and plays the part of a god or spirit-lover. That\nin Greece, too, such stories were current we may perhaps deduce from\nEur., _Ion_, 1530 ff. Ov., _M._ iii, 281; says outright: multi\nnomine divorum thalamos iniere pudicos. An adventure of this sort is\ntold by the writer of [Aeschines] _Ep._ 10, and he is able to\nproduce two similar cases which he certainly has not invented\nhimself (8-9).--In more recent times both western and Oriental\nnations have delighted in telling such stories; a typical Oriental\nexample is the story of \"the Weaver as Vishnu\" in the Panchatantra\n(see Benfey, _Pantsch._ i, \u00a7 56); in the West there is the story of\nBoccaccio dealing with Alberto of Imola as the angel Gabriel,\n_Decam._ iv, 2--Very suspicious, too, seems the account of a miracle\nthat occurred in Epidauros: a barren woman comes to the temple of\nAsklepios to seek advice by ~egkoi/m\u00easis~. A big snake approaches\nher and she has a child. ~Eph. Arch.~ 1885, pp. 21-2, l. 129 ff.]\n\n[135\\4: ~ek tou= h\u00ear\u00f4i/ou tou= para\\ t\u00ea=|si thu/r\u00ea|si **t\u00ea=|si\naulei/\u00ea|si hidrume/nou~, Hdt. vi, 69.]\n\n[136\\4: Hero ~epi\\ prothu/r\u00f4|~, Callim., _Ep._ 26; a Hero ~pro\\\npu/lais, pro\\ do/moisin~, late epigram from Thrace, _Epigr. Gr._\n841; ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4as pl\u00easi/on t\u00ea=s tou= ido/ntos oiki/as hidrume/nous~,\nArtemid. iv, 79, p. 248, 9 H. This, too, is how Pindar's words about\nthe Hero Alkmaion as his ~gei/t\u00f4n~ are to be understood: _Pyth._\nviii, 57, see above, n. 105. An Aesopian fable dealing with the\nrelations of a man with his neighbour-Hero begins ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4a/ tis epi\\\nt\u00ea=s oiki/as e/ch\u00f4n tou/t\u00f4| polutel\u00f4=s e/thuen~, 161 Halm.; cf. also\nBabr. 63.--A similar idea is at work when a son put up a monument to\nhis father at the doorway of his house--see the fine lines of Eur.,\n_Hel._ 1165 ff.]\n\n[137\\4: ~Ku/pr\u00f4| e/ntha Teu=kros _apa/rchei_~. Aias ~_e/chei_~\nSalamis and Achilles his island in the Pontus; ~The/tis de\\\n_kratei=_ Phthi/a|~, and so, too, Neoptolemos in Epirus: Pi., _N._\niv, 46-51; ~_amphe/pei_~ used of a Hero, _P._ ix, 70; ~toi=s theoi=s\nkai\\ h\u00ea/r\u00f4si toi=s _kate/chousi_ t\u00ea\\n po/lin kai\\ t\u00ea\\n ch\u00f4/ran t\u00ea\\n\nAth\u00eanai/\u00f4n~: Dem. 18, 184.]\n\n[138\\4: Cf. Alabandus whom the inhabitants of Alabanda sanctius\ncolunt quam quemquam nobilium deorum: Cic., _ND._ iii, 50 (in\nconnexion with an anecdote relating to the fourth century)--Tenem,\nqui apud Tenedios sanctissimus deus habetur, Cic., _V._ ii, 1, 49.]\n\n\n{{156}}\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nTHE CULT OF SOULS\n\n\nGreek civilization as we see it reflected in the Homeric poems\nstrikes us as so variously developed, and yet so complete in itself,\nthat if we had no further sources of information, we should\nnaturally suppose that the characteristic culture of the Greeks\nthere reached the highest point attainable under the conditions set\nby national character and external circumstance. In reality the\nHomeric poems stand on the border line between an older development\nthat has come to complete maturity and a new, and in many ways\ndifferently constituted, order of things. The poems themselves offer\nan idealized picture of a past that was on the point of disappearing\nentirely. The profound upheavals of the following centuries can be\nmeasured by their final results; we can guess the underlying forces\nfrom a study of the individual symptoms. But the fact remains that\nin the very imperfect state of our information about this period of\ntransformation, we can do little more than recognize the existence\nof all the conditions necessary for a complete reorganization of\nGreek life. We can see how the once less-important races in Greece\nnow come into the foreground of history; how they set up new\nkingdoms by the right of conquest on the ruins of the old, and bring\ninto prominence their own special ways of thinking. Colonization\nover a wide area meant the expansion of Greek life; while the\ncolonies themselves, as is so often the case, traversed all the\nstages of development at a much faster rate. Commerce and industry\ndeveloped, calling forth and satisfying new demands. New elements of\nthe population came to the fore, governments began to fall and the\nold rule of the kings gave way to Aristocracy, Tyranny, Democracy.\nIn friendly and (in the West especially) hostile relationship the\nGreeks came into contact more than formerly with foreign peoples in\nevery stage of civilization who influenced them in many directions.\n\nAll these great movements must have produced many fresh currents in\nintellectual life too. And in fact the attempt to get free from\ntradition, from the long-standing culture that seemed, when\nreflected in the Homeric poems, so permanent and {157} complete in\nitself, is seen most clearly in the sphere of poetry. The poets\nthrew off the tyranny of the epic convention. They ceased to obey\nits formal verse-rhythm. And with the freedom thus gained from its\nvocabulary of stock words, phrases, and images, it was inevitable\nthat the point of view also should change and gain in width. The\npoet no longer turns his gaze away from his own time and his own\nperson. He himself becomes the central figure of his poetry, and to\nexpress the ferment of his own emotions he invents for himself the\nmost natural rhythm, in close alliance with music which now becomes\nan important and independent element in Greek life. It is as though\nthe Greeks had just discovered the full extent of their own\ncapacities and dared to make free use of them. In every branch of\nthe plastic arts the hand of the artist wins in the course of the\ncenturies an ever greater capacity to give visible shape to the\nimagined world of beauty. Even the ruins of that world reveal to us\nmore plainly and impressively (because less mixed with conscious\nreflexion) than any literary achievement, the thing that is of\npermanent value in Greek art.\n\nIt was impossible that religion, alone unaffected by the general\natmosphere of change, should remain unaltered in the old paths. But\nhere, even more than in other directions, we must admit that the\ninward reality of the change remains hidden from us. We can see\nindeed many external alterations, but of the directing spirit which\ncalled them forth we hardly catch more than a glimpse. It is easy,\nby comparing the later condition of religion with the Homeric, to\nsee how enormously the _objects_ of religious worship have\nmultiplied. We can see how much more sumptuous and elaborate\nceremonial has become and observe the development in beauty and\nvariety, in conjunction with the fine arts, of the great religious\nfestivals of the different cities and peoples of Greece. Temples and\nsculpture bear unmistakable witness to the increased power and\nimportance of religion. That an inward and far-reaching change had\ncome over religious thought and belief might have been already\nguessed from the fame and importance which belonged to the oracle at\nDelphi, now coming into real power; and from the many new\ndevelopments in Greek religious life taking their origin from this\nspiritual centre. At this time there grew up, under the influence of\na deepening moral sense, that new interpretation of religion that we\nmeet with in its completed form in Aeschylus and Pindar. The age was\ndecidedly more \"religious-minded\" than that in which Homer lived. It\nis as though the Greeks then went through a period such as {158}\nmost civilized nations go through at some time or other, and such as\nthe Greeks themselves were to repeat more than once in after\ncenturies--a period in which the mind after it has at least half\nsucceeded in winning its freedom from disquieting and oppressive\nbeliefs in invisible powers shrinks back once more. Under the\ninfluence of adversity it feels the need of some comforting\nillusions behind which it may take shelter and be relieved in part\nof the burden of responsibility.\n\nThe obscurity of this period of growth hides also from our sight the\norigin and development of beliefs about the soul very different from\nthe Homeric. The results of the process are however visible enough\nand we can still discern how a regular cult of the disembodied soul\nand eventually a belief in immortality fully worthy of the name were\nbeing built up at this time. These things are the result of\nphenomena which partly represent the re-emergence of elements in\nreligious life which had been submerged in the previous period, and\npartly the entry of fresh forces which in conjunction with the\nresuscitated old give rise between them to a third and new creation.\n\nI\n\nCULT OF THE CHTHONIC DEITIES\n\nThe chief new feature revealing itself to comparative study in the\ndevelopment of religion in the post-Homeric period is the worship of\n_chthonic_ deities, that is, of deities dwelling in the interior of\nthe earth. And yet it is an undoubted fact that these divinities are\namong the oldest possessions of Greek religious faith. Indeed, bound\nas they are to the soil of the country, they are the true local\ndeities, the real gods of home and country. They are also not\nunknown to Homer; but epic poetry had transferred them, divested of\nall local limitation, to a distant subterranean region, inaccessible\nto living men, beyond the limits of Okeanos. There A\u00efdes and the\nterrible Persephoneia rule as guardians of the dead. From that\ndistant and unapproachable place they can have no influence upon the\nlife and doings of men on earth. Religious cult, too, only knows\nthese deities in connexion with particular localities and particular\ngroups of worshippers. Each of these worships the deities of the\nunderworld as denizens of their soil and their countryside alone.\nThey are untroubled by any considerations of a general and uniform\nkingdom of the gods such as the epic had set up; nor are they\ndisturbed by similar and conflicting claims made by neighbouring\n{159} communities. And only in these local cults are the gods of the\nlower world seen in their true nature as they were conceived by the\nfaith of their worshippers. They are the gods of a settled,\nagricultural, inland population. Dwelling beneath the soil they\nguarantee two things to their worshippers: they bless the\ncultivation of the ground and ensure the increase of the fruits of\nthe soil to the living; they receive the souls of the dead into\ntheir underworld.[1\\5] In certain places they also send up from the\nspirit-world revelations of future events.\n\nThe most exalted name we met with among these dwellers below the\nearth is that of Zeus Chthonios. This is at once the most general\nand the most exclusive designation of the god of the lower world;\nfor the name \"Zeus\" had in many local cults thus preserved the\ngeneralized meaning of \"god\" in combination with a particularizing\nadjective. The Iliad also once speaks of \"Zeus of the lower world\";\nthough by this is meant none other than the ruler of the distant\nrealm of the dead, Hades. Hades too, in the Hesiodic Theogony is\nonce called \"Zeus the Chthonian\".[2\\5] But the agricultural poem of\nHesiod bids the Boeotian countryman, when preparing his fields for\nsowing, pray for a blessing to the Chthonic Zeus. Zeus Chthonios was\nalso sacrificed to in Mykonos for the \"fruits of the earth\".[3\\5]\n\nBut, more frequently than under this most general and exalted\ntitle,[4\\5] we meet with the god of the living and the dead under\nvarious disguises. The gods of the underworld were generally\nreferred to by affectionate or cajoling nicknames that laid stress\non the lofty or beneficent character of their rule and threw a veil\nover the darkest side of their nature with conciliatory\neuphemism.[5\\5] Thus Hades had many flattering titles and special\nnames.[6\\5] So, too, in many places Zeus of the underworld was\nworshipped as Zeus Eubouleus or Bouleus,[7\\5] at other places,\nespecially Hermione, as Klymenos.[8\\5] Zeus Amphiaraos, Zeus\nTrophonios we have dealt with already in their capacity of Heroes,\nbut they are really nothing else but such earth deities with\nhonourable titles, who have been deprived to some extent of their\nfull status as gods[9\\5] and have on that account developed all the\nmore strongly the oracular side of their powers. Hades, the ruler of\nthat distant kingdom of darkness, is one of this class of\nmanifestations of Zeus Chthonios that vary in name according to the\ndifferent localities of their worship. The king of the shadows in\nErebos as he appears in Homer has no altars or sacrifices made to\nhim[10\\5]; but these things belong to him as the local god of\nparticular places. In the Peloponnese there were local centres {160}\nof his worship in Elis and Triphylia,[11\\5] sites of a very ancient\ncivilization; and it is probable enough that tribes and clans having\ntheir origin there contributed by their wanderings to the spread of\ntheir native cult of the chthonic deity in other Greek countries as\nwell.[12\\5] Hades, too, was for his Peloponnesian worshippers a god\nof the fertility of the earth just as much as a god of the\ndead.[13\\5] And in the same way he was the lord of the Souls as\nwell, in those places where \"in fear of the name of Hades\"[14\\5] he\nwas called, in honour of his beneficent powers, Plouton, Plouteus,\nor Zeus Plouteus.\n\nThe welfare of the living and the dead was also the concern of the\nfemale deity of the underworld called by the name of the earth\nitself Ge or Gaia. At the places where she was worshipped she was\nregarded as one who brought fruitfulness to the fields, but she held\nsway over the souls of the dead as well, in conjunction with whom\nprayers and sacrifice were offered to her.[15\\5] Her temples\nremained in honour, especially at Athens and at the primeval centre\nof ancient worship of the gods, Olympia.[16\\5] But her personality\nhad never been quite reduced to definite and intelligible outline\nfrom the enormous vagueness natural to primitive deities.\nEarth-goddesses of more recent and intelligible form had supplanted\nher. She retained longest her mantic powers which she exercised from\nbeneath the earth, the abode of spirits and souls, at ancient\noracular sites--though even here she often had to give way to\noracular gods of another description, such as Zeus and Apollo. A\npoet indeed mentions her once side by side with the great ruler of\nthe lower world,[17\\5] but in actual worship she was seldom found\namong the groups of male and female deities of chthonic nature such\nas were worshipped together at many places. Above all, at Hermione\nthere flourished from primitive times a solemn cult of the\nlower-world Demeter in conjunction with the lower-world Zeus, under\nthe name of Klymenos, and with Kore.[18\\5] At other places Plouton\nand these two goddesses were worshipped together, or Zeus Eubouleus\nand the same two, etc.[19\\5] The names of the underworld god vary\nindefinitely, but the names of Demeter and her divine daughter\nappear every time unchanged. Either alone or together, and\nworshipped in connexion with other related deities, these two\ngoddesses have by far the most important place in the cult of the\nunderworld. The fame and widespread popularity of their cult in all\nGreek cities of the mother-country and in the colonies proves more\nthan anything else that since Homeric times a change must have taken\nplace in the sphere of religious emotion and service of the gods.\n{161}\n\nHomer gives no hint of the character or importance of the later cult\nof Demeter and Persephone. For him Persephone is simply the grim\nunapproachable Queen of the dead, Demeter invariably (and solely) a\ngoddess of the fertility of crops[20\\5]; she stands apart indeed\nfrom the rest of the Olympians, but no reference to a close\nassociation with her daughter is ever made.[21\\5] Now, however, both\ngoddesses appear in various and changing activity, but always\nclosely associated, and it seems as if they had come to share some\nof their previously distinct characteristics. Both are now chthonic\ndeities who together have in their protection the growth of the\ncrops and the care of the souls of the dead. How in detail the\nchange came about we can no longer discover. It may be that, in the\ntimes of the great migrations, from various centres of the worship\nof the two goddesses, such as had existed from great antiquity in\nthe Peloponnese especially,[22\\5] there issued forth this faith that\ndiffered so essentially from the Homeric-Ionic view of things. It\nmust have spread just as in later times the special variety of the\ncult of the closely associated goddesses that was practised in\nEleusis was widely propagated by regular missions. It also seems\nthat Demeter, in whose name there was early a tendency to recognize\na second \"Mother Earth,\" in many places took the place of Gaia in\nreligious cult, and thereby entered into closer connexion with the\nrealm of the souls below the earth.\n\n\u00a7 2\n\nAs the numbers of the underworld beings increased, and their cult\ngrew and expanded, these divinities began to have a very different\nmeaning for the living from what they once had for the Greeks of the\nHomeric age. The upper and the lower worlds are drawn closer to each\nother; the world of the living borders upon that world after death\nover which the chthonic gods hold sway. The ancient belief that the\nearth-caverns of their own land, on which men dwelt and worked, were\nthe near and accessible abode of divinity, now reappeared here and\nthere, and was no longer completely awed into silence by the poetic\nlustre of the all-embracing divine world of Olympos. We have spoken\nin a previous chapter of Amphiaraos at Thebes, Trophonios in the\nLebadean cave, and Zeus in the cave on Mt. Ida; and again of that\nZeus who was seen enthroned by those who descended into a cave in\nEpirus. These are all vestiges of the same belief which originally\nunderlay all local cults of underworld deities. The realm of {162}\nchthonic gods, of spirits and departed souls, seemed to be close at\nhand. _Ploutonia_, i.e. direct inlets to the underworld, existed at\nmany places,[23\\5] as also did _Psychopompeia_, clefts in the rock\nthrough which the souls can pass out into the upper world. In the\nmiddle of the city of Athens, in a natural chasm on the Areiopagos,\nunderworld beings were reputed to have their home.[24\\5] The most\nstriking denial of the separation between the living and the\nunderworld, such as was demanded by Homeric theology, was at\nHermione. Here, behind the temple of Chthonia lay a sacred precinct\nof Plouton or Klymenos with a chasm in the ground through which\nHerakles had once brought up Kerberos to the earth--and an\n\"Acherusian Lake\".[25\\5] So near did the spirit world seem here,\nthat the people of Hermione did not give their dead the usual coin\nto pay the fare of Charon, the ferryman of the dead:[26\\5] for\n_them_, in whose own country lay the river Acheron, no tract of\nwater lay between the land of the living and the dead.\n\nMore important than these cases of contact between the dark\nunderworld and the world of the living--for the localization of the\nunderworld still remained for the most part matter of fancy--is the\nfact that the creatures of that world are again drawing closer to\nthe senses of men. The thoughts of men turn more frequently to the\nother world at so many festivals and anniversaries; the gods who\nrule below desire and repay the veneration of mankind, both of the\nindividual and the city. And in the train of the chthonic gods the\nsouls of the dead, always closely bound to them, receive a cult\nwhich in many particulars goes beyond anything customary in the\nHomeric Age.\n\nII\n\nFUNERAL CEREMONIES AND WORSHIP OF THE DEAD\n\nThe first duty that the survivors owe to their dead is to bury the\nbody in the customary manner. This age takes the matter more\nseriously than the Homeric people had done. Whereas in Homer denial\nof burial to enemies fallen in war is often mentioned, it is now\nregarded as a religious duty that is seldom neglected to give back\nthe bodies of the fallen foe for burial. To deny the honour of\nburial to members of one's own city is an outrage of the most\nextreme kind; everyone knows what terrible vengeance for such a\nneglect of duty was taken, by the excited populace at Athens, on the\ngenerals after Arginousai. Nothing can release a son from the duty\nof burying his father and offering him the regular gifts at his\n{163} grave.[27\\5] And if the relations, in spite of everything,\nneglect their task the law at Athens requires the Demarch to see to\nthe burial of his fellow demesman.[28\\5] Religious requirements,\nhowever, go beyond the law. At the solemn agricultural festival of\nDemeter the Bouzyges at Athens invoked a curse on all who should\nleave a corpse unburied.[29\\5] This matter, which the chthonic\ndeities take under their protection, is no mere sanitary police\nregulation. It is not any such consideration, but solely the\n\"unwritten laws\" of religion which are obeyed by Antigone when she\ncovers the dead body of her brother with a little dust: even such\nsymbolical burial is enough to avert the \"abomination\" (~a/gos~).\nMotives of pure piety may have played their part, but the really\nfundamental idea underlying all such practices was the one already\nmet with in the Iliad:[30\\5] that the soul of the unburied person\ncan find no rest in the hereafter. The ghost haunts the\nneighbourhood, its rage afflicts the land in which it is detained\nagainst its will; and the withholding of burial \"is worse for the\n**withholder than for him to whom burial is refused\".[31\\5]\nCondemned criminals, indeed, are thrown by the state, unburied, into\na pit;[32\\5] the sacrilegious and traitors to their country are\ndenied burial in the ground of that country.[33\\5] This is a\nformidable punishment, for even though the outlaw is buried in a\nforeign country,[34\\5] his soul cannot be permanently tended there.\nOnly the family of the dead in their own home can give their\ndeparted kinsman the honour due to him in the cult of the souls, and\nonly they at the spot where his remains lie buried.[35\\5]\n\nWhat we know of the details of the funeral ceremonies, differs very\nlittle in essence from what had survived into the Homeric age as\ncustoms no longer fully explained by contemporary belief. The new\nfeatures that we meet with may also, for the most part, be very\nprimitive usage restored to currency. Some of the particular details\nmake the solemnity of the act more apparent.\n\nAfter the eyes and mouth have been closed by the next of kin the\nbody is washed and anointed by women of the family, and clothed in\nclean garments. It is then laid out upon a bier in the interior of\nthe house for the ceremonial lying-in-state. In Athens marjoram was\nstrewn under the body, for superstitious reasons,[36\\5] and also\nfour broken-off vine branches; in the grave, also, the corpse lay on\nvine branches.[37\\5] Underneath the bier were placed ointment\nvessels of the peculiar slim shape that the graves have restored to\nus again in such numbers. At the door of the room, for the benefit\nof those leaving the house who had incurred religious defilement by\ncoming in contact {164} with the corpse, was placed a bowl full of\npure water brought in from another house.[38\\5] Cypress branches\nfixed upon the house door outside warned the scrupulous that a\ncorpse was in the house.[39\\5] The head of the dead person was\ngenerally decked with garlands and fillets, in a manner unknown to\nthe Homeric age, as a sign, it appears, of respect for the higher\nsanctity of the departed.[40\\5]\n\nThe lying-in-state of the dead, lasting the whole of one day, was\ncertainly not intended originally to serve the purpose of a public\n\"notification of death\", such as later writers attribute to\nit.[41\\5] The funeral dirge was sung at the bier of the dead man,\nand to give opportunity for this ceremony was its real purpose. The\nhabit of the old Attic government of the Eupatridai had increased\nthe pomp of funeral ceremonies in every direction, and had\nencouraged an extravagant cult of the souls of the departed. Solon's\nlegislation had to restrain and limit such exaggeration in many\nways, and in particular, the tendency to increase unduly the\nlamentation sung over the dead body required to be kept within\nbounds. Only the women of the immediate family of the dead might\ntake part in it, for to them alone the cult of the departed belonged\nas a duty.[42\\5] The violent expression of grief, the tearing of the\ncheeks, beating the breast and head, was forbidden,[43\\5] as also\nwas the singing of \"poems\",[44\\5] i.e. in all probability regular\nfuneral dirges specially written for the purpose such as Homer made\nthe women sing round Hektor's bier. To extend the subject of the\nfuneral dirge to apply to others beside the person then being buried\nhad to be made absolutely illegal.[45\\5] This prohibition must also\nhave been applied already to the gathering at the graveside. But to\nsacrifice animals before the procession to the grave was a very\nancient custom, and it seems as if Solon **forbade this too.[46\\5]\nIn other states, also, legislation was necessary to put a curb on\nthe tendency to overdo the violence of the expressions of grief for\nthe dead[47\\5] which were common in the antiquity of the Greeks as\namong many of the \"uncivilized\" tribes who carry them to the point\nof exhaustion. It was not simple piety or natural human grief (never\nparticularly given to violent or excessive demonstration) that\ncaused these things. It was rather the ancient belief that the soul\nof the dead was still invisibly present, and would be pleased at the\nmost violent expressions of grief for its loss.[48\\5] The dirge,\ncarried to this extreme, belongs in fact to the _cult_ of the\ndeparted spirit. The restraints placed upon the traditional\nlamentation may in their turn--in so far as they were effective--\nhave been derived not from considerations of good {165} sense (which\nrarely have much influence in such matters) but from religious or\nsuperstitious reasons.[49\\5]\n\nThe lying-in-state of the body seems invariably to have lasted for\none day only.[50\\5] In the early morning of the third day[51\\5]\nafter death the corpse, together with the bier on which it lay, was\nborne out of the house. Legislation was in some places necessary to\ncheck excessive ostentation at the funeral procession.[52\\5] What\npomp and ceremony was customary in the time of the old aristocratic\nrule at this part of the cult of the dead, we may gather (if it\ncorresponded at all to reality) from the picture of a funeral\nprocession represented on a very archaic \"Dipylon vase\".[53\\5] There\nthe body is carried on high on a wagon drawn by two horses: men\ncarrying swords surround it, and a whole company of women, making\nlamentation and beating their heads, follow the procession. At\nAthens the attendance in the procession was confined, in the case of\nwomen at least, to those of the immediate kinsfolk (for three\ngenerations). The men, who had their place in front of the women\nseem to have been admitted without such restriction.[54\\5] The\nadmission of hired companies of Karian women and men, singing the\nnational dirges, seems at Athens not to have been forbidden.[55\\5]\nAt Keos and elsewhere, the laws ordered processions to the grave to\nbe conducted in silence.[56\\5] On the whole, the discipline of\nrespectable city life reduced the \"excessive and barbaric\",[57\\5]\nwhich must once have been the rule in the display of mourning, to a\ndiscreet symbolism.\n\nOn the details of the burial procedure our information is\nincomplete. Occasional expressions used by Greek authors allow us to\nconclude--and this is confirmed by the excavation of graves in Greek\ncountries--that besides the custom, exclusively prevailing in\nHomeric times, of cremation, the more ancient practice of burying\nthe body unburnt was still kept up.[58\\5] The body was not intended\nto be completely destroyed. Out of the ashes of the funeral pyre the\nson carefully gathers the remains of his father's bones[59\\5] in\norder to bury them, enclosed in an urn or a box. If on the other\nhand the body remains unburnt, it is either enclosed in a coffin\nmade of baked clay, or wood[60\\5]--a custom clearly betraying its\nforeign origin, or else--and this must have been certainly the older\nand more purely native Greek usage--it is let down into the earth\nwithout a coffin, and laid upon a bed of leaves;[61\\5] at other\ntimes, if the nature of the ground allows, it may rest unburied in a\nrock-chamber, upon a bed of stonework.[62\\5]\n\nThe soul, though now set free, keeps up some connexion with the body\nit once inhabited. It is for its use and pleasure {166} that an\nample provision of household implements and vessels is laid beside\nthe corpse (though no longer the whole of the dead man's possessions\nas once was usual); and graves since opened have restored such\nthings in large numbers to our gaze.[63\\5] But the Greeks never\nseriously believed that such a phantasmal existence could be\nprolonged to eternity. Elaborate expedients for the perpetual\npreservation of the corpse (by embalmment and other means, such as\nwere employed in the case of bodies buried in the Mycen\u00e6an\nshaft-graves)[64\\5] were unknown in these later times--except as a\npeculiar archaism in the burial of Spartan kings.\n\n\u00a7 2\n\nOnce the body is buried, the soul of the dead enters the invisible\ncompany of the \"Better and Superior\".[65\\5] This belief, which\nAristotle regarded as of primeval antiquity in Greece, emerges very\nclearly in the cult-observance of these post-Homeric centuries from\nthe obscurity which the Homeric age had imposed upon it. The soul of\nthe dead has its special cult-group composed naturally enough of the\ndescendants and family of the dead, and of them only. There even\nsurvived a dim memory of the time when the body of the dead was\nburied inside the house, which thus became the immediate centre of\nhis cult.[66\\5] That must quite certainly have been during an age\nwhich knew little or nothing of the almost painful sensitiveness to\nthe idea of ritual \"purification\" such as prevailed in later times.\nAt least, we have no reason for supposing that the Greeks (like many\nso-called \"savage\" peoples among whom the custom prevails of burying\nthe corpse within the dead man's own hut) deserted the house that\nhad now become haunted, and left it to the undisturbed possession of\nthe ghost of the dead man buried there.[67\\5] To bury the dead\nwithin the walls of the city, at least, was **considered\nunobjectionable in later times by certain Dorian states.[68\\5] Even\nwhere religious scruples and the practical convenience of city life\ncombined to fix the place for burials outside the city walls,\nfamilies kept their graves together often in a single extensive plot\nwith a wall built round it.[69\\5] Where a country estate belonged to\na family, this generally also included the graves of its\nancestors.[70\\5]\n\nWherever it was situated, the grave was holy, as being the place\nwhere later generations tended and worshipped the souls of departed\nmembers of their family. Grave columns indicated the holiness of the\nspot;[71\\5] trees and sometimes a complete {167} grove surrounded\nthe grave, as they did so often the altars and temples of the\ngods.[72\\5] These were intended to serve as pleasant retreats for\nthe souls of the beloved dead.[73\\5]\n\nSacrificial offerings began for the most part at the actual time of\nthe funeral. The custom of pouring libations of wine, oil, and honey\nat the grave was probably in general use.[74\\5] Even the sacrifice\nof animals, such as was made at the funeral pyre of Patroklos and\neven of Achilles, cannot have been unusual at an earlier period.\nSolon expressly forbade the sacrifice of an ox at the grave.[75\\5]\nAt Keos, permission is just as expressly given for a \"preliminary\nsacrifice to be offered at the funeral in accordance with ancestral\ncustom\".[76\\5] When the funeral ceremony is over, the members of the\nfamily, after a solemn rite of religious purification,[77\\5] put on\ngarlands (they had previously avoided this[78\\5]) and begin the\nfuneral feast.[79\\5] This also was a part of the cult of the dead.\nThe soul of the dead man was regarded as being present--even as\nplaying the part of host.[80\\5] It was awe felt for the invisible\npresence that originally inspired the custom of speaking only praise\nof the dead at the funeral feast.[81\\5] This feast was an\nentertainment given in the house of the dead man to the surviving\nmembers of his family. The dead man had a meal to himself alone,\nwhich was offered at the grave[82\\5] on the third and on the ninth\nday after the funeral.[83\\5] On the ninth day it appears that\nancient usage brought the period of mourning to an end.[84\\5] Where\nit was extended to a longer period the earlier series of offerings\nto the dead was prolonged proportionally. Sparta had a period of\nmourning lasting eleven days.[85\\5] At Athens, in addition to the\nsacrifice on the third and ninth days, another funeral feast which\nmight be repeated several times,[86\\5] was held on the thirteenth\nday.[87\\5]\n\nEven after the ceremonies attached to the funeral itself were at\nlast over, the relations of the dead were by no means released from\nthe duty of tending not merely the grave, but the soul of the\ndeceased member of their family. In particular the son and heir had\nno more sacred duty to perform than the offering of \"the customary\nthings\" (~ta\\ no/mima~) to the soul of his father. These consisted\nabove all of libations to be made to the dead on certain fixed and\nrecurrent festivals. On the 30th of the month there was a\ntraditional feast of the dead.[88\\5] Besides this, every year at the\n\"Genesia\", when the birthday of the dead came round, the occasion\nwas regularly celebrated with sacrifice.[89\\5] The day on which he\nfirst entered this life is still of importance to the psyche of the\ndead man. It is plain that no impassable gulf was fixed between life\nand {168} death: it almost seems as though life went on quite\nuninterrupted by death.\n\nBesides these variable feasts of the Genesia, celebrated as they\noccurred by the individual families, there was at Athens a festival,\nalso called the Genesia, at which the whole citizen body did honour\nto the souls of their dead relatives on the 5th Bo\u00ebdromion.[90\\5] We\nhear also of the Nemesia as a feast of the dead in Athens[91\\5]\n(probably intended for the averting of the anger of the dead--always\na subject of apprehension), and of various festivals of the dead in\nother Greek States.[92\\5] At Athens the chief festival of all the\ndead occurred at the close of the Dionysiac feast of the\nAnthesteria, in the spring, of which it formed the concluding day.\nThis was the time when the dead swarmed up into the world of the\nliving, as they did in Rome on the days when the \"mundus patet\", and\nso still in the belief of our own (German) country people at\n\"Twelfth-tide\". The days belonged to the souls (and their master\nDionysos): they were days of \"uncleanness\"[93\\5] unsuited to the\nbusiness of city life. The temples of the gods were closed during\nthat period.[94\\5] As protection against the ghosts invisibly\npresent, the citizens employed various old and tried precautionary\nmeasures; they chewed hawthorn leaves on their morning walk, and\nsmeared their doorposts with pitch. In this way the ghosts were kept\nat arms length.[95\\5] Each family made offering to its own dead, and\nthe offerings they made have remained for the most part the\nappropriate gifts of the dead on their feast-days in many lands down\nto modern times. A special offering was made to the dead[96\\5] on\nthe last day of the feast, the Chytrai, which was sacred to none of\nthe Olympians, but to Hermes the leader of the dead. To this\ngod--but \"for the dead\"--were offered cooked vegetables and seeds in\npots (which gave their name to this day of the festival).[97\\5] It\nseems probable that as a sacrifice to the dead honey-cakes were\nthrown into a cleft of the earth in the Temne of Ge Olympia.[98\\5]\nIndoors, too, the swarming ghosts entered and were entertained. They\nwere not, however, permanently welcome guests, and finally they were\ndriven out of the house in a manner parallelled at the close of\nfestivals of the dead among many nations of old and modern\ntimes.[99\\5] \"Begone ye Keres, Anthesteria is over\" were the words\nused in sending away the souls, and it is remarkable that in this\nformula they were given their primeval name--a name whose original\nsense had been forgotten by Homer, but not by the language of the\ncommon people of Attica.[100\\5]\n\nIndividuals may have found still further opportunities of {169}\nbringing gifts to their own dead and showing their reverence for\nthem. The cult paid by the family to the spirits of their ancestors\nis hardly distinguished, except by the greater limitation of the\ncircle of worshippers, from the worship of underworld deities and\nHeroes. In the case of the souls, however, nature itself united the\nsacrificers and worshippers (and no one else) with the object of\ntheir devotion. If we wish to form some idea of the way in which\n(under the influence of a civilization that tended to reduce all\nprimitive grandeur to mere idyll) the worship of the dead altered\nits character in the direction of piety and intimacy--we need only\nlook at the pictures representing such worship (though rarely before\nthe fourth century) on the oilflasks which were used at funerals in\nAttica and then laid by the side of the dead in the grave. These\nslight sketches breathe a spirit of simple kindliness; we see the\nmourners decking the grave monument with wreaths and ribbons;\nworshippers approaching with gestures of adoration, bringing with\nthem many objects of daily use--mirrors, fans, swords, etc., for the\nentertainment of the dead.[101\\5] Sometimes the living seek to give\npleasure to the spirit of the dead by the performance of\nmusic.[102\\5] Gifts, too, of cakes, fruit, and wine are being\nmade--but the blood of the sacrificial animals is never\nspilt.[103\\5] There was a time when more solemn--and less\ncomfortable--thoughts prevailed;[104\\5] and of these we learn\nsomething from the much older sculptured reliefs, found on\nsepulchral monuments in Sparta, which give the dead a more\nawe-inspiring attitude. The ancestral pair sit in state and are\napproached by members of the family (represented as much smaller\nfigures) offering their worship. These bring with them flowers,\npomegranates, and sometimes even animals for sacrifice, a cock, a\npig, or a ram. Other and later types of such \"banquets of the dead\"\nshow the dead person standing up (not infrequently by the side of a\nhorse or lying upon a couch and accepting the drink-offering made to\nhim by the survivors.[105\\5] These reliefs allow us to see at what a\ndistance the departed spirits are supposed to stand from the living:\nthe dead do, indeed, seem now to be \"better and stronger\" beings;\nthey are well on the road to becoming \"Heroes\". Drink offerings such\nas those we see offered on these reliefs--a mixture of honey-water,\nmilk, and wine, and other liquids, offered in accordance with\nprecise ritual--always formed a regular part of sacrifices made to\nthe dead.[106\\5] Besides these, animals, too, were slain, especially\nsheep (less often oxen) of black colour. These must be completely\nburnt, as being intended for the sole enjoyment of the dead--a\ncustom {170} observed at all sacrifices made to the spirits of the\nunderworld.[107\\5]\n\nThe whole of this very material cult depended upon the\nassumption--which was sometimes distinctly expressed--that the soul\nof the dead is capable of receiving, and is in need of, a physical\nsatisfaction from the gifts made to it.[108\\5] It is consequently,\nnot thought of as deprived of the power of sense-perception. Even in\nthe grave it can feel what is going on in its neighbourhood.[109\\5]\nIt is not a good thing to attract its attention; it is best to pass\nby the graves of the dead in silence.[110\\5] The common people\nthought of the dead, according to a famous phrase of Plato's, as\n\"hovering\" suspended over their graves, the site of their\ncult.[111\\5] The pictures on the Attic oilflasks illustrate this\nbelief, for they represent the souls of the dead flying above the\ngrave-monument, and the diminutive size of these winged figures is\nevidently intended to represent their somewhat contradictory\nimmaterial materiality, and to express their invisibility for mortal\neyes.[112\\5] Sometimes, indeed, the souls become visible, and then,\nlike the underworld gods and the Heroes, they prefer the shape of a\nsnake.[113\\5] Nor are they absolutely bound to the immediate\nneighbourhood of the grave; they sometimes revisit their old\nhabitations among the living, and not only on those days of the dead\nin the month Anthesterion. The Greeks, like other people, were\nacquainted with the custom of allowing what fell to the ground to\nlie there undisturbed for the spirits that hovered about the house\nto carry away if they liked.[114\\5] The dead man's spirit, being\nthus invisibly present, can overhear if anyone speaks ill of it:\neither with the idea of defending the helpless, or, on the contrary,\nto avoid incurring the wrath of invisible but potent spirits, a\nSolonian law forbade abusive language to be addressed to a dead man.\nThat is the real meaning of the old warning _de mortuis nil nisi\nbene_, as popular belief understood it. The descendants of a dead\nman were bound to prosecute anyone who slandered their\nancestor:[115\\5] this also is among the religious duties owed by the\nliving to the soul of the dead.\n\n\u00a7 3\n\nLike all other cults, the cult of the dead had more to do with the\nrelations of the daimon to the living than with his nature and\nessence considered abstractly, and in itself: a dogmatic account of\nthis nature was neither offered nor required by his worship. Still,\nthe cult was founded upon a general {171} conception, merely evading\nmore exact definition, of the nature of the departed spirit. Men\nsacrificed to the souls of the dead, as to the gods[116\\5] and\nHeroes, because they regarded them as invisible Powers,[117\\5] a\nspecial class of \"Blessed Ones\", as the dead were beginning to be\ncalled even in the fifth century. They attempted to propitiate\nthem,[118\\5] or at least to avert their easily awakened\ndispleasure.[119\\5] Their help was also sought in all times of need;\nbut most especially, like the chthonic gods into whose realm they\nhave entered, they can prosper the fruits of the earth[120\\5] and\nlend assistance at the entry of a new soul into life. For this\nreason libation is made to the souls of ancestors at a\nmarriage.[121\\5] The Tritopatores also, who were invoked at wedding\ncelebrations in Attica that the marriage might prove\nfruitful,[122\\5] were nothing else than the souls of the\nancestors.[123\\5] We know them also to have been referred to as\nwind-spirits,[124\\5] and in this there appears, plainly or\nobscurely, an isolated fragment of the most ancient belief of the\npeople: the departed spirits of the dead become spirits of the air;\nthe ghosts that travel on the winds are the liberated souls of the\ndead.\n\n\u00a7 4\n\nThough it is good and profitable in one's own interest to enlist the\nsympathy and retain the goodwill of these invisible spirit powers by\nsacrifice, yet their worship is to a much greater degree conditioned\nby a sentiment of piety which no longer seeks its own advantage, but\nthe greater honour and welfare of the dead. Such piety certainly\ntakes on a curious form, but it is this which gives its special\ncharacter to the cult of the souls, and the ideas which lie behind\nthat cult. The souls of the dead are dependent upon the cult paid to\nthem by the members of their family who still live on in this world;\ntheir fate is determined by the nature of this cult.[125\\5] The\nbeliefs which nourished the cult of the dead are totally distinct\nfrom the mode of thought prevailing in the Homeric poems according\nto which the souls are banished into the distant realm of Hades and\ncut off eternally from all attention or care that the living might\npay them. It differs again from the beliefs which the mysteries\nimplanted in the minds of their worshippers; for in this case it was\nnot their _merit_--whether religious or moral--which secured to the\ndisembodied souls their position in the future life. These two\nstreams of religious belief flowed side by side, but never met. The\nnearest analogue to the cult of the souls and its appropriate\nbeliefs was undoubtedly the cult {172} of Heroes, but even here the\ndifference is profound. It is no longer a special privilege\nmiraculously bestowed upon a few favoured individuals; every soul\nhas a right to the attentive care of its own family, and in each\ncase its fate is settled, not by the character displayed or deeds\ndone during its lifetime, but by the relation to itself of those who\nsurvive. As a consequence everybody on the approach of death thinks\nof the \"future state\" of his soul, and that means the cult which he\nwould like to make sure will be offered to his departed spirit.\nSometimes for this purpose he makes a special foundation, or\nbequest, which is provided for in his will.[126\\5] Of course, if he\nleaves a son behind him, the care of his spirit will be amply\nprovided for; until that son comes of age, a guardian will offer the\nappropriate gifts.[127\\5] Even slaves to whom he has given their\nfreedom will be sure to take part in the permanent and regular cult\nof their former master.[128\\5] One who has no son to leave behind\nhim will make haste to take a son from another family into his own\nhouse, who, together with his property will inherit also the duty of\noffering a regular and enduring cult to his adopted father, and his\nnew ancestors, and of caring for the needs of their souls. This is\nthe real and original meaning of all adoption; and how seriously\nsuch provision for the proper care of the souls of the departed was\ntaken, can best and most clearly be seen from the testamentary\nspeeches of Isaeus, in which with a completeness of art that almost\nconceals itself expression is given to the genuine and simple\nfeelings of the homely Athenian bourgeoisie whom no enlightenment\nhad ever disturbed in the beliefs of their fathers.[129\\5]\n\nAll cult, all prospect of a full life and future well-being--for so\nwe may express the naive conception--of the soul on its separation\nfrom the body, depends upon the holding together of the family. To\nthe family itself the souls of its former ancestors are, in a\nlimited sense, of course, gods--_its_ gods.[130\\5] It can hardly be\ndoubted that here we have the root of all belief in the future life\nof the soul, and we shall be tempted to subscribe to the belief--as\na guess tending in the right direction--of those who see in such\nfamily worship of the dead one of the most primitive roots of all\nreligious belief--older than the worship of the higher gods of the\nstate and the community as a whole; older even than the worship of\nHeroes, and of the ancestors of large national groups. The family is\nolder than the state,[131\\5] and among all peoples that have not\npassed beyond family-organization and formed states, we find this\ntype of belief about the soul invariably present. Among {173} the\nGreeks, who in the course of their history learnt so much that was\nnew without ever quite discarding the old, this belief lived on in\nthe shadow of the great gods and their cults, even in the midst of\nthe tremendous increase in the power and organized influence of the\nstate. But these larger and wider organizations cramped and hindered\nits development. Left to itself, and given more freedom to grow,\nsuch belief might possibly have elevated the souls of the family\nancestors to the position of all-powerful spirits of the house under\nwhose hearth they had once been laid to rest. The Greeks, however,\nnever had anything to correspond exactly with the Italian _Lar\nfamiliaris_.[132\\5] The nearest equivalent to it would be the Good\nDaimon which the Greek household honoured. Careful examination shows\nthis Daimon to have been originally the soul of an ancestor who has\nbecome the good spirit of his house--but the Greeks themselves had\nforgotten this.[133\\5]\n\n\u00a7 5\n\nWe cannot at this late date trace the reawakening of the cult of\nsouls in post-Homeric times or the varying stages it may have gone\nthrough in its development. Still, some of the facts are plain.\nIndications have already been noticed that point to the view that\nthe cult of the dead was carried on in the days when the\naristocratic regime still held sway in Greece with greater pomp and\nseriousness than in the centuries--the fifth and sixth--beyond which\nour knowledge hardly extends. In these earlier times, we are forced\nto conclude, there must also have been a livelier belief in the\npower and importance of the souls corresponding with the greater\nvigour of religious cult. It seems as if at this time ancient usage\nand belief broke violently through the suppression and neglect under\nwhich they lay in the times that speak to us in the Homeric poems.\nThere is no reason to suppose that any one member of the Greek\npeoples was specially responsible for the change. At the same time,\ndifferent districts in accordance with their varying natural\nproclivities and civilization differed in the cult they paid their\ndead. In Attica, with the spread of democracy, the ideas at the\nbottom of such practice tended more and more in the direction of\nmere affectionate piety. In Laconia and Boeotia[134\\5] and in other\nplaces where primitive life and customs maintained themselves for a\nlong time, more serious notions of the nature and reality of the\ndisembodied spirits remained in force and a more serious cult was\npaid to them. Elsewhere, as in Locris and on the island of\nKeos,[135\\5] the {174} cult of the dead seems to have maintained\nitself only in a very much weakened form. When advancing culture\nmade individuals less dependent on the traditional beliefs of their\nown country many temperamental variations and gradations in belief\nand conception made their appearance. Homeric ideas on the subject,\nuniversally familiar from poetry, may have entered into the question\nand added to the confusion; even where the cult of the dead was\npractised with the greatest fervour, ideas radically incompatible\nwith that cult--as that the souls of the worshipped dead are \"in\nHades\"[136\\5]--are sometimes revealed unintentionally. At quite an\nearly period we find expressions of the view, which goes beyond\nanything said in Homer, that nothing at all survives after death.\nAttic orators, for example, are allowed to speak to their audience\nin a tone of hesitation and doubt about hopes commonly cherished of\ncontinued consciousness and sensation after death. Such doubts,\nhowever, only affect the theoretic consideration of the soul's\nfuture life; the _cult_ of the souls was still carried on inside the\nfamily. Even an unbeliever, if he were in other respects a true son\nof his city and deeply rooted in its ancient customs, might in his\nlast will and testament provide seriously for the perpetual cult of\nhis own soul and those of his near relatives--as Epicurus did in his\nwill, to the astonishment of after ages.[137\\5] Thus, even unbelief\nstill clung to _cult_ as to other old established customs, and in\nmany an individual the cult still tended to awaken the _beliefs_\nwhich alone could justify it.\n\nIII\n\nTRACES OF THE CULT OF SOULS IN THE BLOOD-FEUD AND SATISFACTION FOR\nMURDER\n\n\u00a7 1\n\nIn the renewal and development of the cult offered to the dead, an\nimportant part was again played by that priestly association which\nexercised such a decisive influence on the public worship of\ninvisible powers in the Greek states--the priesthood of the Delphic\noracle. On the occurrence of disturbing portents in the sky recourse\nwas had to the god, who gave orders that in addition to the gods and\nHeroes \"sacrifice should be made to the dead also on the appointed\ndays, in accordance with custom and tradition, by their\nrelatives.\"[138\\5] Individuals in doubt as to what the sacred law\n{175} required in the observance due to a departed soul applied at\nAthens to one of the \"Exegetai\"--probably one of that college of\nExegetai that had been founded under the influence of Delphi.[139\\5]\nThe god protected the rights of the dead, too; the fact that his\ndecisions confirmed the sanctity of the cult of the dead must have\ncontributed a good deal to the consideration and awe in which that\ncult was held by the living.[140\\5]\n\nThe decrees of Delphi were even more influential where they\nconcerned a cult to be offered not to one who had died in peace, but\nto a person who had been robbed of his life through an act of\nviolence. The treatment of such cases shows with striking\ndistinctness the change which had come over the beliefs about the\ndead since the Homeric period.\n\nIn Homer, when a free man has been killed, the State takes no share\nwhatever in the pursuit and punishment of the murderer. It is the\nduty of the nearest relatives or the friends of the murdered\nman[141\\5] to carry on the blood-feud against the assailant. As a\nrule the latter puts himself out of reach of reprisals by flight. He\nwithdraws to a foreign country which is unconcerned in his action.\nWe hear nothing of any distinction between premeditated murder and\nunintentional or even justifiable homicide;[142\\5] and it seems\nprobable that at that time, when no regular inquiry was made into\nthe nature of the individual case, the relatives of the murdered man\ntook no account of the different varieties of killing. If the guilty\nman can escape by flight from those whose duty it is to avenge his\ndeed, they on their part may forgo the full toll of vengeance, which\nwould have required the death of the murderer, and may be satisfied\nwith the payment of compensation, after which the doer of the deed\nis allowed to remain in his own country undisturbed.[143\\5] The\nrequirements of vengeance are thus in essence fulfilled, but the\nretaliatory murder of the murderer can be bought off. This decided\nrelaxing of the ancient notion of vengeance can only be accounted\nfor by an equally decided weakening of the belief in the continued\nconsciousness, power, and rights of the murdered man, upon which the\nrequirement of vengeance was founded. The soul of the dead is\npowerless; its claims can be easily satisfied by the payment of\n\"weregild\" to the living. In such a satisfaction as this, the\ndeparted soul is in reality not concerned at all; it remains a\nsimple business transaction between living people.[144\\5] In the\nmidst of the general declension of the beliefs about the\ndead--amounting almost to complete extinction--which is found\nthroughout the Homeric poems, this weakening of belief in one\nparticular point is not very surprising. But {176} in this case, as\nin the general study of Homeric beliefs about the dead, it is clear\nthat the conception of the soul as powerless, shadowlike, and feeble\nis not the primitive or original one; it has foisted itself\ngradually in the course of years upon a more ancient mode of\nconception in which the dead had undiminished sensibility and could\ninfluence the condition of the living. Of this older conception we\nhave emphatic witness in the duty--not forgotten even in Homeric\nGreece--of prosecuting the blood-feud.\n\nIn later times the pursuit and punishment of homicide was organized\nin accordance with quite different principles. The _State_\nrecognized its interest in the reprisals made for such a breach of\nthe peace: we may take it as certain that in Greek cities generally\nthe state took a share in the regular investigation and punishment\nof murder in its courts of justice,[145\\5] though here, too, it is\nonly in the case of Athenian law that we have precise information.\nAt Athens, in accordance with the ancient code dealing with the\nlegal prosecution of murder (which never fell into disuse after\nDrakon had established it by his penal legislation), the exclusive\nright--and the unavoidable duty--of prosecuting the murderer\nbelonged to the next of kin of the murdered man. (In special cases\nonly it was extended to include the more distant relatives, and even\nthe members of the _phratria_ to which he had belonged.) It is clear\nthat this duty of making an accusation which fell upon the next of\nkin, preserves a relic of the ancient duty of the blood-feud which\nhas been transformed by the requirements of the public welfare. It\nis the same narrow circle of relationship, extending to the third\ngeneration, united by a strict religious bond, to which alone\nbelonged the right to inherit property and the duty of performing\nthe cult of the dead. This circle of relatives is here again called\nupon to \"succour\" the unfortunate who has been violently done to\ndeath.[146\\5] The reason for this duty--a duty evidently derived\nfrom the ancient blood-feud--is easy to understand: it, too, is a\ndepartment of the cult of the dead which was binding as a duty upon\nexactly that circle of relatives. It was no mere abstract \"right\",\nbut a quite definite personal claim, made by the dead man himself,\nthat the surviving relatives were required to satisfy. At Athens\neven in the fourth and fifth centuries the belief still survived in\nundiminished vigour that the soul of one violently done to death,\nuntil the wrong done to him was avenged upon the doer of it, would\nwander about finding no rest,[147\\5] full of rage at the violent\nact, and wrathful, too, against the relatives {177} who should have\navenged him, if they did not fulfil their duty. He himself would\nbecome an \"avenging spirit\"; and the force of his anger might be\nfelt throughout whole generations.[148\\5] Implacable revenge is the\nsacred duty of those--his representatives and executors--who are\nspecially called upon to fulfil the needs of the dead soul. The\nstate forbids them to take the law into their own hands; but it\ncommands them to seek redress at the tribunals of justice. It will\ntake over the duties of judge and executioner itself; but a decided\nconsideration will be shown to the relatives of the murdered man at\nthe hearing of the case. In duly conducted criminal procedure the\ncourts specially appointed for this purpose will decide whether the\ndeed is to be considered one of wilful murder, unintentional\nmanslaughter, or justifiable homicide. In making these distinctions\nthe state has struck a blow at that older code of the blood-feud in\nwhich the right of vengeance belonged entirely to the family of the\nmurdered man. According to that code, as we cannot but conclude from\nHomer, nothing but the fact of the violent death of a relative was\nconsidered, not the character or motive of the deed itself. Now,\nhowever, the murderer is liable to a death penalty which he can\navoid before the verdict is given by going into voluntary and\nperpetual exile. He disappears and leaves the country--at the\nboundaries of the country the state's authority ceases, and so does\nthe power of the indignant spirit of the dead, which is bound to its\nnative soil--like that of all local deities, whose influence is\nconfined to the place where they are worshipped. If, by such flight\nover the frontier, \"the doer of the deed withdraws himself from the\nperson injured by him--i.e. the angry soul of the dead\nman\"[149\\5]--his life is thereby saved, even if he himself is not\njustified. This alone is meant by the permission of such voluntary\nexile. Involuntary homicide[150\\5] is punished by banishment for a\nlimited period, after the expiration of which the relations of the\ndead man are to grant a pardon to the murderer on his return to his\nnative land.[151\\5] If they voted for it unanimously[152\\5] they\ncould even do this before he went into banishment, in which case\nthis would not take place at all. There can be no doubt that this\npardon had to be granted by them in the name of the dead man as\nwell, of whose rights they were the representatives; indeed, the man\nhimself lying mortally wounded could before his death, even in the\ncase of wilful murder, pardon his assailant and thereby excuse his\nrelatives the duty of prosecution;[153\\5] to such an extent was the\ninjured soul's wish for vengeance the only point at issue, {178}\neven in the legal procedure of a constitutionally governed state,\nand not in the least the lawless act of the murderer as such. When\nthere is no desire for vengeance on the part of the victim requiring\nto be satisfied, the murderer goes unpunished. When he suffers\npunishment, he suffers it for the satisfaction of the soul of the\nmurdered man. He is no longer slain as a sacrifice to his victim;\nbut when the relations of the dead exact vengeance from him by\nlegally constituted processes, that, too, is a part of the cult\noffered to the soul of the dead.\n\n\u00a7 2\n\nIt is true that the state directs the blood-feud required of the\nrelatives of the dead man along constitutional channels that shall\nnot contravene the laws of the community; but it does not in the\nleast intend to abolish the fundamental idea of the ancient family\nvendetta. It reasserts the original claim to vengeance of the victim\nviolently done to death--a claim closely bound up with the cult of\nthe dead--by forbidding the old custom, common in Homeric times, of\nbuying off the blood-guiltiness of the murderer by a compensatory\npayment made to the relatives of the dead man.[154\\5] It does not\ndestroy the religious character of the whole transaction; it uses\nits own processes to secure the fulfilment of the requirements of\nreligion. That is why the head of all criminal jurisdiction is the\nKing Archon, the constitutional Administrator of all the _religious_\nfunctions of the ancient royal government. The religious basis of\nthe oldest Athenian criminal jurisdiction is particularly evident.\nIt has its seat on the Areiopagos, the hill of the Curse-Goddesses,\nover the sacred chasm in which they themselves, the \"Venerable\nOnes\", have their dwelling. The judicial office is closely bound up\nwith the service of the goddesses.[155\\5] At the commencement of the\nproceedings both parties take an oath in the name of the\nErinyes.[156\\5] Each of the three days at the end of the month, upon\nwhich legal proceedings in these courts took place,[157\\5] was\nsacred to one of the three goddesses.[158\\5] To them sacrifice was\nmade by those who were acquitted in those courts;[159\\5] for it is\nthe goddesses who have given them absolution just as it is the\ngoddesses who demand the punishment of the guilty. They still do it,\nas once they had done in the typical case of Orestes, in which they\nthemselves had been the accusers.[160\\5] In this Athenian worship\nthe Erinyes had not vet entirely lost their true and original\ncharacter. They had not become the mere guardians of law in general,\nas which they were sometimes {179} represented by poets and\nphilosophers who thus extended and weakened immeasurably their once\nmuch narrower significance. They are formidable daimones, dwelling\nin the depths of the earth from which they are conjured up by the\ncurses and maledictions of those who have no earthly avenger left.\nHence they are more particularly the avengers of murder committed\nwithin the family itself; they punish the man who has slain the very\nperson whom he would have been called upon to avenge, if that person\nhad fallen at the hand of another murderer than himself. When the\nson has slain his father or mother, who shall then carry out the\nblood-feud incumbent upon the nearest relation of the dead? This\nnearest relation is the murderer himself. It is the Erinys of the\nfather or the mother who sees to it that the dead shall still\nreceive due satisfaction. She breaks out from the kingdom of the\ndead to seize the murderer. She is ever at his heels in pursuit,\nleaving him no rest night or day. Vampire-like she sucks his\nblood:[161\\5] he is her destined victim.[162\\5] Even in the judicial\nprocedure of the fully organized state it is the Erinyes who demand\nrevenge for murder at the courts of law. Their absolute power\nextends in widening circle to all murder, even when it is committed\noutside the limits of the family; though it was only the imagination\nof the poetically or philosophically minded that ever transformed\nthem completely to champions of justice of all kinds, in heaven and\nupon earth. In the cult and beliefs proper to individual cities they\nremained the auxiliaries attached to the souls of murdered men.\nThese gruesome daimones had their origin in the worship of the dead,\nand they lived on in connexion with the undying worship of which\nthey were a part. Indeed, if we examine closely the sources of\ninformation at our disposal, we can see even through their\ninadequacy and obscurity that the Erinys was nothing else but the\nsoul itself of the murdered man, indignant at its fate and seizing\nits revenge for itself--till later ages substituted for this the\nconception of the ghost from hell taking over to itself the rage of\nthe dead man's soul.[163\\5]\n\n\u00a7 3\n\nThus, the whole procedure at murder trials was directed rather to\nthe satisfaction of invisible powers--the injured souls of the dead\nand the daimones that represent them--than of the state and its\nliving members. In essence it was a religious act. As a result all\nwas not at an end when the human verdict on the case had been given.\nOn his return from exile the man guilty of involuntary homicide,\nbesides receiving the {180} pardon of the relatives of the dead man,\nhad still a double duty to perform; he had to be purified and to\noffer propitiatory sacrifice.[164\\5] Purification from the blood of\nthe slain was necessary even in the case of the unpunished agent of\nwhat the state regarded as justifiable homicide;[165\\5] it restored\nthe man, hitherto regarded as \"unclean\", to participation in the\nreligious gatherings of state and family which could not have been\napproached by an unpurified person without suffering defilement. The\nHomeric poems know nothing of any such religious purification of\nthose who have incurred the stain of blood.[166\\5] Analogous\noccurrences in the religious usage of allied peoples make it,\nhowever, almost impossible to doubt that the notion of religious\nuncleanness belonging to a man who has had any dealings with uncanny\npowers was of primeval antiquity among the Greeks, too. It can only\nhave been suppressed in the Homeric view of the matter; just as that\nview also suppressed the usages of expiation. These were intended to\npropitiate the indignant soul of the dead and the gods who protected\nit, by means of solemn sacrifice; but in the Homeric picture of the\nworld they never appear, for the ideas on which they were based had\nthemselves been swept away.\n\nThe details of purification and expiation--the former serving the\ninterests of the state and its religious needs, the latter intended\nas a final appeasement of the injured powers of the unseen\nworld--were closely united in practice and are often confused in the\naccounts which have come down to us. A hard and fast distinction\nbetween them cannot be drawn. So much at all events is clear; the\nexpiatory rites indispensable when murder had been committed had the\nclosest possible similarity with the ritual of sacrifice to the gods\nof the underworld.[167\\5] And, in fact, the deities invoked at such\nrites of expiation--Zeus Meilichios, Zeus Apotropaios, and the\nrest--belong to the underworld circle of gods.[168\\5] To them,\ninstead of the murderer himself, a victim was offered to appease the\nanger felt by them as the patrons of the departed soul. The Erinyes,\ntoo, have sacrifice made to them at expiations[169\\5]--everything in\nthese matters is connected with the kingdom of the dead and its\ninhabitants.\n\nBut it was the Delphic Oracle that saw to the details of\npurification and expiation after murder. The necessity of such\nrights was impressed on men by the example set in the story of\nApollo's own flight and purification after the slaying of the\nearth-spirit at Pytho. These events were symbolically enacted over\nagain regularly every eight years.[170\\5] At Delphi, {181} too,\naccording to Aeschylus, Apollo himself purified Orestes the\nmatricide from the pollution of his crime.[171\\5] At Athens one of\nthe oldest propitiatory sites was called after one of Apollo's\ntitles, the Delphinion.[172\\5] The Oracle must often have directed\nits inquirers to placate not merely the Heroes, but also the angry\nsouls of murdered (and not heroized) men by means of expiatory\nsacrifices: as it bade the murderers of Archilochos and the Spartan\nking Pausanias.[173\\5] Propitiatory sacrifice in this sense does not\nbelong to the Apolline cult as an exclusive possession; it belongs,\nalso, to other, mostly lower-world, deities; but it was the Oracle\nof Apollo that set the seal on its sanctity. At Athens the Exegetai\nfounded under the influence of the Delphic Oracle were the official\nadministrators of this expiatory ritual.[174\\5] Plato was certainly\nfollowing the customs of Greek cities when in the \"Laws\" he declares\nthat his state shall take its regulations for purification and\npropitiation from Delphi.[175\\5]\n\n\u00a7 4\n\nThe Oracle, then, of the omniscient God sanctified and recommended\nthese rites of expiation; the state regulated its judicial procedure\nin murder cases on the lines of the old family blood-feud. It was\nnatural, then, that the ideas on which these religious and political\ninstitutions were based--the conviction of a continued existence\nenjoyed by the murdered man's soul and of his consciousness and\nknowledge of what occurred among the living who survived, his anger\nand his powers--that these ideas should attain to something like the\nposition of an article of faith. The confidence with which these\nbeliefs were held still manifests itself to us in the speeches at\nmurder trials in which Antiphon, suiting his language to his real or\nimagined public, tries to arouse terror and awe, as at the presence\nof indubitable realities, by calling upon the angry soul of the dead\nman and the spirits that avenge the dead.[176\\5] About the souls of\nmurdered men indeed, regarded as more than other spirits unable to\nfind rest, a strange and ghostly mythology grew up, of which we\nshall have some specimens later on. How primitive such beliefs could\nbe we may gather with startling clearness from occasional records of\npurely savage customs[177\\5] which are derived from them--customs\nwhich cannot possibly have been freshly invented in the Greece of\nthis enlightened period, and must be either primitive Greek savagery\ncome to light again, or else barbarisms only too easily welcomed\nfrom less civilized neighbours. In any case they imply the most\nmaterialistic view of the survival {182} of the murdered man, and of\nthe revenge that might be taken by his soul.\n\nIt is evident that what men believed about the souls of murdered men\nmust have had an important influence upon the general belief in a\nfuture life as it took shape in the mind of the people. But the\nextent of such an influence can be more exactly measured in the\nstory which Xenophon tells about the dying Kyros; as the strongest\ngrounds for the hope that an after-life will be the portion of _all_\nsouls after their separation from the body, the dying king points to\nthe unquestioned facts which, as all admit, prove a special\nafter-life for the souls \"of those who have suffered injustice\". In\naddition to this he lays stress on the argument that the worship of\nthe dead would not have been preserved intact to his own time if\ntheir souls had been entirely deprived of all active power.[178\\5]\nThus we see how the _cult_ of the souls of the dead was the chief\nsource of the _belief_ in a continued life after death.\n\n\nNOTES TO CHAPTER V\n\nI\n\n[1\\5: This dual efficacy of the ~chtho/nioi~ is explained naturally\nenough by their nature as underground spirits. There is no reason\nfor supposing that their influence on the fertility of the fields\nwas a later addition (as Preller does, _Dem. u. Perseph._ 188 ff.,\nfollowed by many). Still less have we any grounds for regarding the\nprotection of souls and the care for the fertility of crops as a\nsort of allegorizing parallel (soul = grain of seed) as has been\nusual since the time of K. O. M\u00fcller.]\n\n[2\\5: ~Zeu\\s katachtho/nios~, ~I~ 457. ~theou= chthoni/ou . . .\niphthi/mou A\u00ef/de\u00f4~, Hes. _Th._ 767 f. Evidently there is no\ndistinction here between ~katachtho/nios~ and ~chtho/nios~, as\nPreller, _Dem. u. Pers._ 187, wishes to make out.]\n\n[3\\5: Hes. _Op._ 465, ~eu/chesthai de\\ Dii\\ chthoni/\u00f4| D\u00eam\u00ea/teri/\nth' hagn\u00ea=| ktl.~ It is impossible even by far-fetched methods of\ninterpretation (such as Lehrs makes use of, _Popul. Aufs._^2 298 f.)\nto make this ~Zeu\\s chtho/nios~ into anything else than a Zeus of\nthe underworld. The god of the lower world, totally distinct from\nthe Olympian Zeus (~Zeu\\s _a/llos_~, Aesch., _Supp._ 231), is here a\ndispenser of blessings to the farmer. In the sacrificial regulation\nfrom Mykonos (_SIG._ 615) it is prescribed to offer: ~hupe\\r karp\u00f4=n\n(kamp\u00f4=n~ on the stone) ~Dii\\ Chtho/ni/\u00f4| G\u00ea=| Chthoni/\u00ea| DERTA\nme/lana et\u00ea/sia? xe/n\u00f4| ou the/mis~ (where ~derta\\~ = _hostias pelle\nspoliatas_, see Prott, _Leg. Sacr._ i, p. 17; though the addition of\nthe colour of the no longer visible skin seems remarkable)--~hupe\\r\nkarp\u00f4=n~ here belongs to ~Dii/~, etc., as the division-mark on the\nstone before ~hupe\\r~ shows: see _BCH._ 1888, p. 460 f. Evidence of\nthis sort makes it clear how unjustifiable it would be to rule out\nall fructifying influence from the \"idea of the chthonic\" and to\nregard the chthonic deities as simply the power of death and\ndestruction in the world of nature and men, as is done by H. D.\nM\u00fcller (who is met by serious difficulty in this passage from the\n_Op._: _Mythol. d. griech. St._ ii, 40). It is, indeed, scarcely\nnecessary to seek for an abstractly formulated \"idea of the\nchthonic\"; but if this fructifying and life-giving force does belong\nto the nature of the ~chtho/nioi~ as such, what becomes of H. D.\nM\u00fcller's ingeniously thought-out and violently defended view\naccording to which the chthonic only constitutes one side of the\nnature of certain deities who have in addition a different,\nOlympian, side in which they are positively creative and\nbeneficent?]\n\n[4\\5: ~Zeu\\s chtho/nios~ at Corinth, Paus. 2, 2, 8; at Olympia, 5,\n14, 8.]\n\n[5\\5: Thus Persephone is called ~Hagn\u00ea/, De/spoina~, etc. (Lehrs,\n_Pop. Aufs._^2 288), also ~Melit\u00f4/d\u00eas, Meli/boia~; ~Melindi/a~,\nconsort of Hades, Malalas, p. 62, 10, Di. [8th ed., Bonn.] (?\n~Meli/noia~, as Hekate is ~Meilino/\u00ea~, Orph., _H._ 71). ~Ari/st\u00ea\nchthoni/a~, _P. Mag. Par._ 1450.--Hekate is ~Kalli/st\u00ea, Eukoli/n\u00ea\n(kat' anti/phrasin h\u00ea m\u00ea\\ ou=sa eu=kolos~, _EM._), the Erinyes\n~Semnai/, Eumeni/des~; their mother ~Eu\u00f4nu/m\u00ea (= G\u00ea=~): Ister ap.\nSch. Soph., _OC._ 42 (from a similar source, Sch. Aeschin. i, 188),\netc. Cf. B\u00fccheler, _Rh. Mus._ 33, 16-17.]\n\n[6\\5: ~Polude/kt\u00eas, Polude/gm\u00f4n, Ag\u00easi/laos~ (_Epigr. Gr._ 195; see\nBentley ad Callim., _Lav. Pall._ 130; Preller, _Dem. u. Pers._ 192;\nWelcker, _G\u00f6tterl._ ii, 482), ~Eukl\u00ea=s~ (B\u00fccheler, _Rh. Mus._ 36,\n332 f.).--~Eu/kolos~ (corresponding to the ~Eukoli/n\u00ea~ above as a\ntitle of Hades must be rejected if K\u00f6hler's correction of _CIA._ ii,\n3, 1529, is right: ~H\u00eadu/los--Euko/lou~.] {184}\n\n[7\\5: Cult of ~Zeu\\s Eubouleu/s~ at Amorgos, Paros (insc. cit. by\nFoucart, _BCH._ vii, 402), of ~Zeu\\s Bouleu/s~ at Mykonos, _SIG._\n615 (~Zeu\\s Boulai=os~, _Ins. Perg._ i, 246, l. 49, does not belong\nhere); of ~**Eu/boulos~ (original title of Hades: Orph., _H._ xviii,\n12) in Eleusis (side by side ~ho theo/s, h\u00ea thea/~): _SIG._ 20, 39;\n_CIA._ ii, 1620 c.d. (The Athenian legend makes Eubouleus into a\nmortal herdsman: Clem. Al., _Protr._ ii, pp. 14-15 P.; Schol. Luc.,\n_De Merc._, 2, p. 275, 27 Rabe.) ~Eubouleu/s~ simply = Hades: Nic.,\n_Al._ 14; epitaph from Syros, _Epigr. Gr._ 272, 9, and frequently.\nSo, too, the ~Zeu\\s Eubouleu/s~ (Hesych. s. ~Eub.~) worshipped in\nKyrene must have been a ~Zeu\\s chtho/nios~. Eubouleus is also a\ntitle of Dionysos as Zagreus (Iakchos), i.e. the Dionysos of the\nunderworld.--Incidentally, what is the origin of this designation of\nthe god of the underworld as \"good counsellor\" (_boni consilii\npraestitem_ as Macr. 1, 8, 17, translates ~Euboul\u00ea=a~)? It can\nhardly have been because he was specially able to take counsel on\nhis own behalf (this is the sense in which D.S. 5, 72, 2, takes the\ntitle; but rather because he was an _oracle_ god, and as such\ndispensed good counsel to inquirers. Thus the oracle-god Nereus is\ncalled ~eu/boulos~ in Pi., _P._ iii, 92; so also _I._ vii, 32:\n~eu/boulos The/mis~.]\n\n[8\\5: Lasos _fr._ 1 (_PLG._ iii, 376), etc.--Consecration to\n~Klu/menos~ from Athens: _CIG._ 409.--Hesych. ~Periklu/menos; ho\nPlou/t\u00f4n~ (it is no accident that gave the name Periklymenos to the\nmagically gifted son of Neleus). Klymenos = Hades, _Epigr. Gr._ 522\na 2.]\n\n[9\\5: The name ~Treph\u00f4/nios~, ~Troph\u00f4/nios~ itself also points to\nthe fact that assistance to the fertility of the earth was expected\nof this ~Zeu\\s chtho/nios~. In the later cult of Trophonios not a\ntrace of such a belief survives.]\n\n[10\\5: ~en oudemia=| po/lei Ha/idou b\u00f4mo/s estin. Aischu/los\nph\u00easi/n; mo/nos the\u00f4=n ga\\r Tha/natos ou d\u00f4/r\u00f4n era=| ktl.~ (_fr._\n161 Sidg.): Schol., AB. on ~A~ 158.]\n\n[11\\5: In Elis ~hiero\\s tou= Ha/idou peri/bolo/s te kai\\ nao/s~,\nPaus. 6, 25, 2. Cult of Demeter and Kore and of Hades in the very\nfertile Triphylia, Str. 344.]\n\n[12\\5: Kaukones from Pylos, the Nelidai at their head, reach Attica:\nconnexion with the cult of the ~chtho/nioi~ in Phlya in Eleusis: see\nK. O. M\u00fcller, _Kl. S._ ii, 258. Such accounts may have an historical\nfoundation. The elaborate accounts by H. D. M\u00fcller, _Mythol. Gr._ 1,\nc. 6, and O. Crusius, _Ersch-Gruber_ \"Kaukones\"--operate with too\nmany uncertain factors for the results to have any certainty.]\n\n[13\\5: ~Ha/id\u00eas . . . toi=s entha/de tosau=ta agatha\\ ani/\u00easin~:\nPl., _Crat._ 403 E. ~ho Ha/id\u00eas ou mo/non ta\\s psucha\\s sune/chei,\nalla\\ kai\\ toi=s karpoi=s ai/tio/s estin anapno\u00ea=s kai\\ anado/se\u00f4s\nkai\\ aux\u00ea/se\u00f4s~: Schol. B.L., ~O~ 188.]\n\n[14\\5: ~hoi polloi\\ phobou/menoi to\\ o/noma Plou/t\u00f4na kalou=sin\nauto/n (to\\n Ha/id\u00ean)~, Pl., _Crat._ 403 A.]\n\n[15\\5: At the Genesia (Nekysia sacrifice for Ge and the dead,\nHesych. ~Gene/sia.--choai\\ G\u00ea=| te kai\\ phthitoi=s~, A. _Pers._ 220:\ncalling to Hermes, Ge, and A\u00efdoneus in \"spirit-raising\", _Pers._ 628\nff., 640 ff. cf. _Ch._ 124 ff.--appeal to Hermes and ~G\u00ea=\nka/tochos~ on _defixiones_: _CIG._ 538-9.]\n\n[16\\5: ~Gai=os~ in Olympia, Paus. 5, 14, 10; cf. E. Curtius, _Alt\u00e4re\nv. Olymp._, p. 15. At Kos it would seem to have been stated that Ge\nwas worshipped ~mo/n\u00ea the\u00f4=n~, Ant. Lib. 15 (acc. to Boios). Side by\nside with ~Zeu\\s Chtho/nios~ was worshipped ~G\u00ea= chthoni/\u00ea~ at\nMykonos, _SIG._ 615, 26.]\n\n[17\\5: ~po/tnia G\u00ea= Zagreu= te, the\u00f4=n panupe/rtate pa/nt\u00f4n~,\n_Alkmaionis fr._ 3 (Kink.).]\n\n[18\\5: Cult of Klymenos and Demeter ~Chthoni/a~ (her festival\n~Chtho/neia~: see also Ael. _HA._ xi, 4) in Hermione, Paus. 2, 35, 4\nff. Pausanias also thinks (3, 14, 5) that the cult of Dem.\n~Chthoni/a~ was brought to Sparta {185} from Hermione, which may be\nright. Kore as ~Meli/boia~ is also mentioned in this connexion by\nLasos of Herm. _fr._ 1, _PLG._ iii, 376. Dedicatory inscriptions\n(_CIG._ 1194-1200) also mention, side by side with Demeter Chthonia,\nKlymenos, and Kore as well. Once (_BCH._ 1889, p. 198, n. 24) only\n~Da/matri, Klume/n\u00f4|~. Demeter was clearly the chief goddess: cf.\n_CIG._ 1193.--From the community of the worship of Damater Chthonia\nin both Hermione and Asine it may be justifiable to conclude that\nthis cult belonged originally to the Dryopians who combined with the\nDorians in Hermione and were driven by them out of Argolic Asine.\nThere is no warrant whatever for the fanciful derivation of the\nDemeter-cult of these neighbourhoods from \"Pelasgians\" submerged by\nDryopian invaders.]\n\n[19\\5: There was a common worship of: Zeus Eubouleus, Demeter, and\nKore at Amorgos; Zeus Eub., Demeter Thesmophoros, Kore, Here, Babo\nat Paros; Plouton, Demeter, Kore, Epimachos, Hermes in Knidos;\nPlouton and Kore in Karia. See the citations given by Foucart,\n_BCH._ vii, 402 (with whose own pronouncements I cannot, however,\nagree at all). In Delos, Demeter, Kore, Zeus Eubouleus: _BCH._ 24,\n505 n. 4. So, too, in Corinth Plouton, Demeter, and Kore: Paus. 2,\n18, 3; Hades Demeter and Kore in Triphylia, Str. 344. Observe also\nthe group of divinities at Lebadeia in the cult of Trophonios: Paus.\n9, 39.--At Eleusis side by side with Demeter and Kore Plouton also\nwas worshipped: _CIA._ ii, 834 b. But there existed even there other\ngroups of ~chtho/nioi~ worshipped in conjunction, ~t\u00f4\\ the\u00f4/~ once\nmore joined with Triptolemos, and a second triad: ~ho theo/s, h\u00ea\nthea/~, and Eubouleus, _CIA. Suppl._ i, 27b, p. 59, ff. ii, 1620 bc;\niii, 1108-9. This second triad, which is not mentioned on the inscr.\n_CIA._ i, 5 (from the beginning of the fifth century), may have only\nbeen subsequently added to the Eleusinian official cult (see Ziehen,\n_Leg. Sacr., Dissert._ pp. 9-10). It is a waste of time to try and\nidentify the vague appellations ~theo/s~ and ~thea/~ with the names\nof definite chthonic deities (as e.g. Kern attempts, _Ath. Mitth._\n1891, pp. 5-6). Acc. to L\u00f6schcke, _D. Enneakrunosepis. bei Paus._,\npp. 15-16, these Eleusinian divinities were imported into Athens,\nestablished in the chasm of the Eumenides, and instead of ~ho\ntheo/s, h\u00ea thea/~ and Eubouleus, were called Hermes, Ge, and\nPlouton. But the correlation of these divinities worshipped there in\nconjunction with the ~Semnai/~ (acc. to Paus. 1, 28, 6) with the\nEleusinian group depends entirely upon the identification of the\n~Semnai/~ with Demeter and Kore. This, however, is based on nothing\nmore than a guess of K. O. M\u00fcller's (_Aesch. Eum._, p. 176 [160 f.\nE.T.]), which would still be very much in the air even if the\ntheories about \"Demeter Erinys\" with which it is connected did not\nrest on such insecure foundations. (To identify the\nEleusinian-Athenian Eubouleus with Plouton is impossible, if only\nbecause of the fact that in the chthonic cult of those places\n~Eubouleu/s~, originally the name of an underworld god, has\ndeveloped into the name of a Hero who now has a place _alongside_\nthe chthonic deities.)--With the cautious appelations ~ho theo/s, h\u00ea\nthea/~ we may compare the appeal on a _defixio_ from Athens, _CIG._\n1034: ~dai/moni chthoni/\u00f4| kai\\ t\u00ea=| chthoni/a| kai\\ toi=s\nchthoni/ois pa=si ktl.~]\n\n[20\\5: Cf. Mannhardt, _Mythol. Forsch._ 1884, p. 225 ff.]\n\n[21\\5: It cannot, however, be denied that already in Homer\nPersephone is the daughter of Demeter and Zeus. Adducing ~X~ 326 and\n~l~ 217 K. O. M\u00fcller (_Kl. Sch._ ii, 91) has disposed conclusively\nof Preller's doubts: in spite of which H. D. M\u00fcller in his\nreconstruction of the Demeter-myth clings firmly to the view that\nthe goddess carried {186} away by Hades was only afterwards made the\ndaughter of Demeter.--The Homeric poems seem to know of the rape of\nPersephone by A\u00efdoneus but not the story of her periodical return to\nthe upper world--which is the most important feature in the\nEleusinian creed. What Lehrs says on this much-discussed subject is\ncompletely convincing (_Pop. Aufs._^2, p. 277 f.).]\n\n[22\\5: The cult of Demeter is old in Phthiotis too (--~Pu/rason,\nD\u00ea/m\u00eatros te/menos~, ~B~ 695 f.--~e/chousai Antr\u00f4=na petr\u00ea/enta~,\n_h. Cer._ 490). Also in Paros and Crete. That it is possible to\ntrace the extension of the worship of Demeter in detail (as many\nhave tried to do, is one of the current illusions on this subject\nthat I cannot share.]\n\n[23\\5: _Aornon_ and ~nekuomantei=on~ (~psuchopompei=on~ Phot.\n~Theoi\\ Molottikoi/~ cf. Append. prov. iii, 18 L.-S.; Eust. ~k~ 514,\np. 1667) at Ephyre on the River Acheron in Thesprotia: well known\nfrom Hdt.'s story of Periander (v, 92). Here the place of Orpheus'\ndescent to the lower world was localised, Paus. 9, 30, 6; cf. also\nHyg. 88, p. 84, 19-20 Schm.--Entrance to Hades at Tainaron, through\nwhich Herakles dragged up Kerberos (Schol. D.P. 791, etc.), with\n~psuchomantei=on~: cf. Plu., _Ser. Num. Vind._ 17, p. 560 E (cf.\nStat., _Th._ ii, 32 ff., 48 f., etc.).--Similar entrance to Hades at\nHermione, see below; ~kataba/sion ha/|dou~ at Aigialos = Sikyon:\nCall. _fr._ 110.--At Phigaleia in Arcadia a ~psuchomantei=on~ at\nwhich King Pausanias inquired, Paus. 3, 17, 9.--More famous is the\n~psuchomantei=on~ at Herakleia Pont.: see _Rh. Mus._ 36, 556 (this\nalso was a place where Kerberos appeared above, Mela i, 103). Hither\nPausanias came for guidance, acc. to Plu., _Ser. Num._ 10, p. 555 C;\n_Cimon_ 6.--The ~Plout\u00f4/nion~ and ~psuchomantei=on~ at Cumae in\nItaly had a long-standing reputation (mentioned as early as Soph.,\n_fr._ 682 [748 P.]): cf. _Rh. Mus._ 36, 555 (an Italian Greek\napplies to ~ti psuchomantei=on~, Plu., _Cons. Apoll._ 14, p. 109\nC).--Next the Asiatic ~Plout\u00f4/nia~ and ~Char\u00f4/neia~: at Acharaka in\nKaria, Str. 649-50; at Magnesia on the Maiander, ~a/ornon sp\u00ea/laion\nhiero/n, Char\u00f4/nion lego/menon~, Str. 636; at Myous, Str. 579. This\nis what ~to\\ en La/tm\u00f4| o/rugma~ must have been, mentioned among\nother ~Char\u00f4/nia~ by Antig. Caryst. 123; the ~Ki/mbros kalou/menos\nho peri\\ Phrugi/an bo/thunos~ also mentioned there, may very well\nhave been the place in Phrygia spoken of by Alkman ap. Str. 580:\n~bo/thunos Kerb\u00ea/sios e/ch\u00f4n olethri/ous apophora/s~ (suggested by\nKeller on Antig). Perhaps the latter place--named after the\nKorybantes (?) see Bergk on Alcm. _fr._ 82--is the same as the cave\nat Hierapolis.--Better known than any was the oracular cavern at\nHierapolis in Phrygia into which only the Galli of the Great Mother,\nthe _Matris Magnae sacerdos_, can go without being overcome by the\nvapours issuing from it: Str. 629-30, Plin. ii, 208. There existed\nunder a temple of Apollo a direct ~kataba/sion ha/|dou~, accessible\nat least to the faithful ~tetelesme/noi~: see the very remarkable\naccount of Damasc., _V. Isid._ ap. Phot., p. 344b, 35-345a, 27 Bk.\n(Cult of Echidna in Hierapolis, see Gutschmid, _Rh. Mus._ 19, 398\nff.; this is also a chthonic cult: ~ne/rteros E/chidna~, Eur. _Ph._\n1023; Echidna among the monsters of Hades: Ar., _Ra._ 473).--These\nare the mortifera in Asia Plutonia, quae vidimus, Cic., _Div._ i, 79\n(cf. Gal. iii, 540; xvii, 1, 10).--Entrances to Hades were regularly\nto be found at those places where the cave was shown by which\nAidoneus made his exit or his entrance in carrying off Kore. Thus at\nEleusis, ~to/thi per pu/lai eis' A\u00ef/dao~, Orph., _H._ 18, 15, Paus.\n1, 38, 5; at Kolonos, Sch. S., _OC._ 1590-3; at Lerna, Paus. 2, 36,\n7; at Pheneos (a ~cha/sma en Kull\u00ea/n\u00ea|~: Conon 15), and probably in\nCrete too (cf. Bacch. _fr._ 53 Jebb, ap. Sch. Hes., _Th._ 914); at\nEnna in Sicily a ~cha/sma **kata/geion~: D.S. 5, 3, 3; Cic., _Verr._\niv, 107; {187} at Syracuse at the spring Kyane, D.S. 5, 4, 2; at\nKyzikos, Prop. 3 (4), 22, 4.]\n\n[24\\5: The ~Semnai/~ live there in a ~cha/sma chthono/s~, Eur.,\n_El._ 1266 f., on the eastern slope of the hill.]\n\n[25\\5: Paus. 2, 35, 10. The precinct of the temple was an Asylon,\nPhot. ~Hermi/on\u00ea~; _AB._ 256, 15; Znb. ii, 25 (Ar.\n~Babul.~).--Kerberos is brought up from below at Hermione: Eur.,\n_HF._ 615. An Acheron, and even an ~Acherousia\\s li/mn\u00ea~, was to be\nfound in Thesprotia, Triphylia, Herakleia on the Pontus, Cumae, and\nCosentia in Bruttium--all sites of ancient cults of Hades and\nreputed as in close proximity to the underworld.]\n\n[26\\5: Strabo viii, 373--the same is reported by Call. _fr._ 110 of\nthe inhabitants of ~Aigialo/s~ (prob. = Sikyon, where there was a\ncult of Demeter, Paus. 2, 11, 2-3; cf. 2, 5, 8. Hesych. ~_ep\u00f4pi/s_;\nD\u00eam\u00ea/t\u00ear para\\ Siku\u00f4ni/ois~), where, at any rate, there was a\n~kataba/sion ha/|dou~.--The name \"Hermione\" seems almost to have\nacquired a generic sense. In the Orphic _Argonautica_ a city\nHermioneia is said to be situated in the fabulous north-west of\nEurope in the neighbourhood of the gold-bearing river Acheron, where\n(as always on the margin of the ~oikoume/n\u00ea~) there dwell ~ge/n\u00ea\ndikaiota/t\u00f4n anthr\u00f4/p\u00f4n, hoi=sin apophthime/nois a/nesis nau/loio\nte/tuktai~, etc. (1135-47). Thus Hermione in this case lies\nimmediately in the country of souls and blessedness, which the\nancient inhabitants of the Peloponnesian city rather supposed to be\nin the neighbourhood of their own country.--Hesych. strangely:\n~_Hermio/n\u00ea_; kai\\ h\u00ea D\u00eam\u00ea/t\u00ear kai\\ h\u00ea ko/r\u00ea en Surakou/sais~. Was\nthere a place called Hermione there too? See Lob., _Paralip._ 299.]\n\nII\n\n[27\\5: If a father makes money by his son's unchastity, the son is\nreleased from the duty of providing food or shelter for his father\nwhile the latter is alive--~apothano/nta d' auto\\n thapte/t\u00f4 kai\\\nta=lla poiei/t\u00f4 ta\\ nomizo/mena~: Solonian law ap. Aeschin.,\n_Tim._ 13.]\n\n[28\\5: Dem. 43, 57-8.]\n\n[29\\5: Sch. Soph., _Ant._ 255. Philo ap. Euseb., _PE._ viii, 358 D;\n359 A. See Bernays, _Berichte Ber. Ak._ 1876, p. 604, 606 f.]\n\n[30\\5: ~Ps~ 71 ff.]\n\n[31\\5: Isoc. 14, 55.]\n\n[32\\5: The ~ba/rathron~ at Athens, the ~Kaia/das~ at Sparta. But the\nbodies were often given up to the relatives to bury, and in any case\nthe refusal of burial can only have been temporary--it is incredible\nthat they could have wished to leave the bodies to putrify in the\nopen air.]\n\n[33\\5: Athenian law, Xen., _HG._ 1, 7, 22; common Greek institution\nat least as against temple-robbers, D.S. 16, 25. Examples of the\nenforcement of this law in the fifth and fourth centuries discussed\nby W. Vischer, _Rh. Mus._ 20, 446 ff.--Suicides in some places were\nrefused burial honours (in Thebes and Cyprus); even in Athens it was\ncustomary to cut off the hand of the suicide and bury it separately\n(Aeschin., _Ctes._ 244). This is the punishment of ~auto/cheires~.\nSelf-starvation was considered less shocking and that is perhaps why\nit occurs so frequently as a method of suicide. Cf. Thalheim, _Gr.\nRechtsalt._ p. 44 f. Perhaps also the religious objection of the\nPythagoreans (and Platonists) to taking this means of escape from an\nexistence that has become unbearable rests upon popular feeling and\nbelief--it was not shared at all by the enlightened of later ages.\n(There is, however, nothing in ancient beliefs that points to the\nidea that the body of the suicide should be allowed only burial, not\nburning. Acc. {188} to the ~Ilia\\s mikra/~ Aias after taking his own\nlife was buried, not burnt, ~dia\\ t\u00ea\\n org\u00ea\\n tou= basile/\u00f4s~--_fr._\n3: [Apollod.] _Epit._ v, 7. There is no ground for supposing that\nthe fable of Philostr., _H._ 721, p. 188 K., acc. to which Kalchas\ndeclared the burning of the bodies of suicides to be not ~ho/sion~,\nis taken out of an ancient poem; as Welcker does _Kl. Schr._\nii, 291.)]\n\n[34\\5: Cf. the words of Teles ~peri\\ phug\u00ea=s~ ap. Stob., _Fl._ 40, 8\n(iii, p. 738, 17 ff. Hens.), and the answer of Krates Cyn. to\nDemetrius of Phaleron ap. Plu., _Adul._ 28, p. 69 CD. It is worth\nremarking that in the fourth and even third centuries it was still\nnecessary to reply to the idea ~ho/m\u00f4s de\\ to\\ epi\\ xe/n\u00eas taph\u00ea=nai\no/neidos~. When later on the cosmopolitanism preached by the Cynics\n(and after their model by Teles) becomes really common property it\nseems no longer necessary to introduce special grounds of\nconsolation for having to be buried in foreign soil into pamphlets\n~peri\\ phug\u00ea=s~. At least this is not done by the Stoic Musonius or\nthe Platonizing Plutarch. Cf. also Philodem. _Mort._, p. 33-4 Mekl.]\n\n[35\\5: This is the reason why so often the bones or ashes of those\nwho die abroad are collected and brought home for burial by their\nrelations. Exx. ap. Westermann on Dem., _Eubul._ 70; cf. also Plu.,\n_Phoc._ 37.]\n\n[36\\5: Ar., _Ec._ 1030. Origanon (wild marjoram, white thyme\npossesses apotropaic power: it keeps away evil spirits. The ancients\nknew of the virtue possessed by these plants of scaring snakes,\nants, and other vermin--Aristot., _HA._ 4, 8, 534b, 22; Plin. 10,\n195; Thphr., _CP._ 6, 5, 4; Diosc., _MM._ iii, 29 = i, p. 375 Spr.;\n_Gp._ 12, 19, 9: cf. Niclas ad _Gp._ 13, 10, 5. Modern superstition\nemploys them against goblins and water sprites, witches and ghosts,\nGrimm, p. 1214; p. 1820, n. 980. If marjoram and gentian are laid by\nwomen in child-bed ghosts and devils can do them no harm \"for they\nshun such herbs\": J. Ch. M\u00e4nnlingen ap. Alwin Schultz, _Alltagsleben\ne. d. Frau im 18 Jahrh._, p. 195 f. The two purposes are closely\nconnected. The pungent odour of herbs and burning stuff keeps away\nsnakes as do nocentes spiritus monstra noxia: Pall. 1, 35 = 11, 3,\np. 49 Sohn. The same thing applies to monstra noxia if they try to\napproach the corpse in the shape of snakes or insects (just as the\nghost in Apul., _M._ ii, 25, approaches the corpse in the shape of a\nweasel; where we also read that the versipelles which threaten the\ncorpse et aves et rursum canes et mures immo vero etiam muscas\ninduunt: ii, 22). So, too, the marjoram has a kathartic effect on\nthe corpse, i.e. it is a means of keeping off underworld spirits.]\n\n[37\\5: Ar., _Ec._ 1031. The corpse lay on vine branches in several\nof the recently discovered Dipylon graves at Athens: _Athen. Mitt._\n1893, pp 165, 184. Superstitious reasons (as in the cases where\nolive leaves are used as a bed: see below) are to be suspected in\nthis case, too, but can hardly be proved: cf. **Fredrich,\n_Sarkophagstud._, Nach. G\u00f6tt. Ges. Wiss. Ph. Cl. 1895, pp. 18, 69;\nAnrich, _Gr. Mysterienw._ 102, 3. Apart from this the ~a/mpelos~\ndoes not seem to have lustral effect.]\n\n[38\\5: ~l\u00ea/kuthoi, tou/strakon~: Ar., _Ec._ 1032 f.; ~che/rnips epi\\\nphthit\u00f4=n pu/lais~: Eur., _Al._ 98 ff. The bowl was called\n~arda/nion~: Sch. Ar., _Ec._ 1033; Poll. viii, 65 (cf. Phot. 346, 1\n~orda/nion~). It contained water fetched from _another_ house:\nHesych, ~o/strakon~--obviously because the water in the house where\nthe corpse lay was regarded as polluted. (Thus when the fire, for\nexample, is \"polluted\", fresh fire is brought in from outside: Plu.,\n_Q. Gr._ 24, p. 297 A; _Arist._ 20.) Those who left the house\npurified themselves with it: Hesych. ~arda/nia~, cf. {189}\n~p\u00eagai=on, p\u00eagai=on hu/d\u00f4r~. A laurel branch (as holy-water\nsprinkler, as commonly in lustrations) was placed in it: Sch. Eur.,\n_Al._ 98.]\n\n[39\\5: Serv., _A._ iii, 680: apud Atticos funestae domus huius\n(cupressi) frondo velantur. The object may have been to warn the\nsuperstitious against approaching the \"unclean\" house: it is a\ncharacteristic of the ~deisidai/m\u00f4n, ou/te epib\u00ea=nai mn\u00ea/mati, ou/te\nepi\\ nekro\\n ou/t' epi\\ lech\u00f4\\ elthei=n ethel\u00ea=sai~, Thphr., _Ch._\n16. This at least was the reason given at Rome for a similar custom:\nServ., _A._ 3, 64; 4, 507.]\n\n[40\\5: Crowning of the dead with garlands, afterwards a general\ncustom, is first mentioned in the ~Alkmai\u00f4ni/s~ (epical, but hard to\ndate precisely: _fr._ ii, p. 76 Kink.). On the \"Archemoros\" vase a\nwoman is about to place a myrtle-wreath on the head of Archemoros.\nThe myrtle is sacred to the ~chtho/nioi~, and hence the myrtle-crown\nbelongs to the Mystai of Demeter as well as to the dead: see\nApollod. ap. Sch. Ar., _Ran._ 330; Ister ap. Sch. Soph., _OC._ 681.\nGrave-monuments too were crowned and planted especially with\nmyrtles; Eur., _El._ 324, 512; cf. Thphr., _HP._ 5, 8, 3; Vg., _A._\niii, 23. Not only the dead but graves too were frequently crowned\nwith ~se/linon~, parsley: Plu., _Timol._ 26; _Smp._ 5, 3, 2, p. 676\nD; Diogen. viii, 57, and others; cf. above, chap. iv, n. 21. The\ncrowning invariably implies some form of consecration to a god. Acc.\nto Tertul., _Cor. Mil._ 10, the dead were crowned quoniam et ipsi\nidola statim fiunt habitu et cultu consecrationis; which at least\ngets nearer the real sense of the practice than the view of Sch.\nAr., _Lys._ 601: ~ste/phanos edi/doto toi=s nekroi=s h\u00f4s to\\n bi/on\ndi\u00eag\u00f4nisme/nois~.]\n\n[41\\5: Pl., _Lg._ 959 A. Poll. iii, 65. A still stranger reason\nadded ap. Phot. ~pro/thesis~.]\n\n[42\\5: Permission to attend either the ~pro/thesis~ of the corpse\n(and the funeral lamentation) or the funeral procession (the\n~ekphora/~) given only to women of kinship ~mechri\\ anepsio/t\u00eatos~:\nLaw ap. Dem. 43, 62-3: i.e. within the ~agchistei/a~, to which alone\nthe duty of the cult of the dead belonged in principle. Only these\nwomen of the immediate kin are ~miaino/menai~ in the case of death:\ncf. Hdt. vi, 58; this is the reason for the restrictions laid down\nby the funeral regulation from Keos (_SIG._ 877, 25 ff.), which\nmakes an even narrower selection within the ranks of the\n~agchistei/a~. (From l. 22 ~m\u00ea\\ hupotithe/nai~, etc., the law speaks\nof the ~pro/thesis~, even though at the beginning only the\n~ekphora/~ is in question.)]\n\n[43\\5: ~amucha\\s koptome/n\u00f4n aphei=len~. Plu., _Sol._ 21. The\ndemocratizing of life in Attica after Solon's time may have\ncontributed to the carrying out there of provisions restricting the\nelaborate funeral rites of the old aristocratic period. The practice\nof ~ko/ptesthai epi\\ tethn\u00eako/ti~ appears, however, to have remained\nin use: beating of the head at funeral lamentations is a favourite\nmotif in Attic vase-paintings (the so-called \"Prothesis\" vases); cf.\n_Monum. dell' Instit._ viii, 4, 5; iii, 60, etc. See Benndorf,\n_Griech. Sicil. Vasenb._ 1.]\n\n[44\\5: ~to\\ thr\u00eanei=n pepoi\u00eame/na~, Plu., _Sol._ 21: by which is\nmeant funeral hymns carefully prepared beforehand and perhaps\nordered from professional ~thr\u00ea/n\u00f4n sophistai/~, not spontaneous\nexpressions of grief breaking out as though involuntarily.]\n\n[45\\5: Plu., _Sol._ 21: ~kai\\ to\\ k\u00f4ku/ein a/llon en taphai=s\nhete/r\u00f4n aphei=len~. This must surely mean: Solon forbade dirges to\nbe sung at a funeral of one person in honour of another, different\nfrom the person actually being buried. (~hete/r\u00f4n~ is only used for\nvariety after ~a/llon~ and simply = ~a/ll\u00f4n~: as frequently by Attic\nwriters: ~m\u00ea\\ pro\u00efe/menon a/llon hete/r\u00f4| t\u00ea\\n allag\u00ea\\n~, Pl., _Lg._\nviii, 849 E: ~he/teron--a/llon~ Isoc. 10, 36, etc.). {190} The\ntendency to extend the funeral hymns to include others besides the\ndead man is implied by a prohibition in a funeral ordinance of the\n~patri/a~ of the ~Labua/dai~ at Delphi (fifth-fourth century B.C.),\n_BCH._ '95, p. 11, l. 39 ff. ~t\u00f4=n de\\ pro/sta tethnako/t\u00f4n en toi=s\nsama/tessi m\u00ea\\ thr\u00eanei=n m\u00ead' ototu/zen~ (at the funeral of another\nperson). Was Homer thinking of something of the kind in ~T~ 302:\n~Pa/troklon pro/phasin~--?]\n\n[46\\5: In Athens it had once been the custom ~hierei=a prospha/ttein\npro\\ t\u00ea=s ekphora=s~, i.e. while still in the house of the dead\nperson: [Pl.] _Min._ 315 C. Such a sacrifice _before_ the ~ekphora/~\n(which is not described till l. 1261 ff.) is implied by Euripides,\n_Hel._ 1255, at the burial of the dead body found in the sea:\n~prospha/zetai me\\n hai=ma pr\u00f4=ta nerte/rois~--where ~prospha/gion~\nis used inaccurately of sacrifice at the grave, in which case the\n~_pro/_~ is meaningless; as also in the insc. from Keos (_SIG._ 877,\n21). ~pro/sphagma~ is also thus used, Eur., _Hec._ 41. Plu. (_Sol._\n21) says of Solon: ~enagi/zein de\\ bou=n ouk ei/asen~. Possibly\nSolon **forbade the sacrifice of animals _before_ the ~ekphora/~,\nsince the author of the Ps.-Platonic _Minos_ seems also to refer to\nsuch a prohibition.]\n\n[47\\5: The Solonian restrictions says Plu. (_Sol._ 21) have been for\nthe most part adopted in our (i.e. the Boeotian) ~no/moi~--as acc.\nto the indubitable witness of Cicero, Solon's funeral regulations\nhad been reproduced **eisdem prope verbis in the tenth of the Twelve\nTables by the Decemviri. Limits set to ceremonial mourning in\nSparta: Plu., _Lyc._ 27 (whence _Inst. Lac._, 18, p. 238 D), in\nSyracuse by Gelon: D.S. 11, 38, 2; cf. \"Charondas\", Stob., _Fl._ 44,\n40 M. = iv, 2, 24, p. 153, 10 H. Some degree of restriction was\nimposed on their members (about the beginning of the fourth century\nB.C.) by the ~patri/a~ of the ~Labua/dai~ in Delphi in the\n~tethmo/s~ published in the _BCH._ '95, p. 9 ff.]\n\n[48\\5: We have a very naive expression of the ideas lying behind\nsuch violent lamentations, self-inflicted injuries, and other\nexcessive demonstrations of grief in the presence of the dead body,\nwhen e.g. in Tahiti people wound themselves and then \"call out to\nthe soul of the dead man to witness their attachment to him\"\n(Ratzel, _Hist. of Mankind_, i, 330); cf. Waitz-Gerland, _Anthrop._\nvi, 402.]\n\n[49\\5: It is a very ancient idea common to many different nations\nthat too violent expressions of grief for the dead man may disturb\nhis rest and make him return: see Mannhardt, _G\u00f6tter der deutschen\nV\u00f6lker_, 1860, p. 290 (for Germany in partic. see Wuttke, _Deut.\nVolksabergl._^2, \u00a7 728, p. 431; Rochholz, _D. Glaube u. Brauch_, i,\n207). Similar superstition in Greece is referred to in Lucian,\n_Luct._ 24 (in which the lateness of the witness does not prevent\nthe belief from being ancient). The survivors who prolong beyond\nreason their laments are asked: ~me/chri ti/nos oduro/metha? e/ason\nanapau/sasthai tou\\s tou= makari/ou dai/monas~.--In Pl., _Mx._ 248\nB, the dead say ~deo/metha pate/r\u00f4n kai\\ m\u00eate/r\u00f4n eide/nai ho/ti ou\nthr\u00eanou=tes oude\\ olophuro/menoi h\u00eama=s h\u00eami=n ma/lista\nchariou=ntai~--thus violent grief is intended in Greece, too, to\nplease the dead: see last note--~alla\\ . . . hou/t\u00f4s _acha/ristoi_\nei=en a\\n ma/lista~: while acc. to \"Charondas\", Stob., _Fl._ iv, 2,\n24, p. 153 H.: ~_acharisti/a esti\\ pro\\s dai/monas chthoni/ous_\nlu/p\u00ea hupe\\r to\\ me/tron gignome/n\u00ea~.]\n\n[50\\5: ~ekphe/rein to\\n apothano/nta t\u00ea=| husterai/a| h\u00ea=| a\\n\nproth\u00f4=ntai, pri\\n h\u00ea/lion exe/chein~, Solonian law in D. 43, 62;\ncf. Antipho, _Chor._ 34. Klearch. ap. Proclus _in Pl. _Rp.__ ii, 114\nKroll: Kleonymos in Athens, ~tethna/nai do/xas tri/t\u00eas h\u00eame/ras\nou/s\u00eas kata\\ to\\n no/mon proute/th\u00ea~, i.e. it was the morning of the\nthird day, immediately before the ~ekphora/~, the ~pro/thesis~\nhaving occupied the whole of the second day (quite differently taken\nby Maass, _Orpheus_, 1895, p. 232, 46; but hardly correctly. It is\nscarcely probable that a man ~tethna/nai do/xas~, i.e. seeming to\nthose {191} around him to be dead, should be recognized by these\nsame people and treated as merely in a trance--as in fact, was the\ncase). So, too, in the analogous story of Thespesios of Soli in\nPlutarch, _S. Num. Vind._ 22, p. 563 D, ~tritai=os, \u00ea/d\u00ea peri\\ ta\\s\ntapha\\s auta/s, an\u00ea/negke~ (Philostr., _VA._ 3, 38, p. 114, 28 K.:\nthe wife of the man who has just died ~peri\\ t\u00ea\\n eun\u00ea\\n hu/brise,\ntritai/ou keime/nou~ [sc. ~tou= andro/s~] ~gam\u00eathei=sa hete/r\u00f4|~:\ni.e. immediately before the ~ekphora/~, while the dead man still was\nin the house). Similar customs are implied for the Greeks in Cyprus\nap. Ant. Lib. 39, 5, p. 235, 21 West. [= p. 122, 7 f. Mart.]:\n~h\u00eame/ra| de\\ trit\u00ea| to\\ s\u00f4=ma pro\u00ea/negkan eis emphane/s (eis\ntoumphane/s~?) ~hoi pros\u00ea/kontes~. Further, acc. to Plato's view as\ngiven in _Lg._ 959 A, there should be ~tritai/a pro\\s to\\ mn\u00ea=ma\nekphora/~.]\n\n[51\\5: Before sunrise: D. 43, 62 (more distinctly commanded by a law\nof Dem. Phal.: Cic., _Lg._ ii, 66). On the other hand, it was\nconsidered a disgrace to be buried during the night: ~\u00ea= kako\\s\nkak\u00f4=s taph\u00ea/s\u00ea|, nukto\\s ouk en h\u00eame/ra|~, Eur., _Tro._ 448.]\n\n[52\\5: So in particular the funeral-law from Keos, _SIG._ 877; cf.\nPlu., _Sol._ 21; Bergk, _Rh. Mus._ 15, 468. Funeral-law of the\nLabyadai at Delphi, l. 29 f.: ~str\u00f4=ma de\\ he\\n hupobale/t\u00f4 kai\\\npoikepha/laion he\\n potithe/t\u00f4~ (for the dead).]\n\n[53\\5: Reproduced _Monum. dell' Instituto_, ix, 391 [and in\nRayet-Collignon, _C\u00e9ramique grecque_, Pl. i].]\n\n[54\\5: The law in D. 43, 62 (cf. 64), makes restrictions in the\nattendance at a funeral which are to apply to women only (and only\nthen for those under 60): men seem therefore to be granted\npermission indiscriminately. We are told too in Plu., _Sol._ 21,\nthat at the ~ekkomid\u00ea/~ Solon had _not_ forbidden ~ep' allo/tria\nmn\u00ea/mata badi/zein~--for men that is, we must suppose. The men went\nin front in procession; the women followed: D. 43, 62. Evidently the\nsame applied in Keos: _SIG._ 877, 20.--Pittakos as aesymnetes in\nMitylene forbade absolutely accedere quemquam in funus aliorum,\nCic., _Lg._ ii, 65.--Funeral-law of the Labyadai (Delphi, l. 42 ff.:\nfrom the burial ~api=men woi/kade he/kaston, e/chth\u00f4 homesti/\u00f4n kai\\\npatradelphe\u00f4=n kai\\ penther\u00f4=n k\u00eakgo/n\u00f4n kai\\ gambr\u00f4=n~, i.e. the\nnext-of-kin of the dead in ascending and descending order.]\n\n[55\\5: This is referred to as still-existing custom by Plato, _Lg._\n800 E; cf. Sch. ad loc.; Hesych. ~Kari=nai~. Menand. ~Kari/n\u00ea~,\nMein., _Com._ iv, p. 144 (Karo-phrygian funeral-flutes: Ath. 174 F:\nPoll. iv, 75-9).]\n\n[56\\5: ~to\\n thano/nta de\\ phe/ren katakekalumme/non si\u00f4p\u00ea=| me/chri\nepi\\ to\\ s\u00ea=ma~, _SIG._ 877, 11. Funeral-law of Labyad., l. 40 ff.\n~to\\n de\\ nekro\\n kekalumme/non phere/t\u00f4 siga=|, k\u00ea\\n tai=s\nstrophai=s~ (\"at the street-corners\") ~m\u00ea\\ kattithe/nt\u00f4n m\u00eadamei=,\nm\u00ead' ototuzo/nt\u00f4n e/chthos ta=s woiki/as pri/g k' epi\\ to\\ sa=ma\nhi/k\u00f4nti; t\u00eanei= d' e/nagos e/st\u00f4 ktl.~ (the last not yet\nsatisfactorily explained).\n\n[57\\5: Solon diminished (under the alleged influence of Epimenides)\nat funerals ~to\\ skl\u00earo\\n kai\\ to\\ barbariko\\n h\u00f4=| sunei/chonto\npro/teron hai plei=stai gunai=kes~, Plu., _Sol._ 12.]\n\n[58\\5: In the list of quotations from individual authors from the\nfifth century on, given in Becker **_Char._^2 iii, 98 ff. [= E.T.^3\npp. 390-1], only the foll. speak for _burial_ as the prevailing\ncustom: Plu., _Sol._ 21. ~ouk ei/asen~ (Solon) ~_suntithe/nai_\nple/on himati/\u00f4n tri\u00f4=n~, and Plu., _Lyc._ 27, ~_suntha/ptein_\nou/den eiasen~ (Lycurg.) ~alla\\ en phoiniki/di kai\\ phu/llois\nelai/as _the/ntes to\\ s\u00f4=ma_ perie/stellon~: cf. Th. i, 134, 4.\n_Cremation_, on the other hand, is implied as the more common in\nAthens (fourth century) by Is. 4, 19: ~_ou/t' e/kausen_ out'\n\u00f4stolo/g\u00easen~; so, too, the will (third century) of the Peripatetic\nLykon (D.L. v, 70): ~peri\\ de\\ t\u00ea=s ekphora=s kai\\ {192} _kau/se\u00f4s_\nepimel\u00eath\u00ea/t\u00f4san ktl.~ Cf. Also Teles ap. Stob. 40, 8, i, p. 747, 5\nH.; ~ti/ diaphe/rei hupo\\ puro\\s katakauth\u00ea=nai~--which is here\nregarded as _Greek_ funeral usage.--In the graves recently\ndiscovered before the Dipylon gate in Athens those belonging to the\nearliest period almost without exertion have their dead _buried_\n(without coffin); the following period (into the sixth century)\ngenerally burnt their dead; later, burial seems to have been more\nusual--see the account by Br\u00fcckner and Pernice of the excavations\nbefore the Dipylon gate, _Ath. Mitt._ 1893, pp. 73-191. Thus it\nappears that in the later period burial was the prevailing practice\nin Attica (L. Ross, _Archaeol. Aufs._ i, 23), as also, being\nessentially cheaper than cremation, in other parts of Greece as well\n(a few references given in _BCH._ '95, p. 144, 2).]\n\n[59\\5: ~\u00f4stolo/g\u00easen~, Is. 4, 19.]\n\n[60\\5: The custom of ~ekphora/~ on an open ~kli/n\u00ea~ is not in\nharmony with the intention of laying the body of the dead in a\ncoffin, but evidently presupposes that the body is to be placed\neither unenveloped in the ground or else to be burnt. The practice\nof coffin-burial (probably introduced from the East) later became\ncommon, but was never completely harmonized with the ancient\nceremonies of the _~ekphora/~_.]\n\n[61\\5: Coffinless burial was usual in the graves of the \"Mycenaean\"\nperiod, and also in the oldest times in Attica. The Spartans were\nmerely keeping up this ancient custom when they ~en phoiniki/di kai\\\nphu/llois elai/as the/ntes to\\ s\u00f4=ma perie/stellon~ (buried), Plu.,\n_Lyc._ 27. Here everything points to the retention of primitive\nusage. The bodies were buried in the ancient fashion, not burnt;\nthey were wrapped in a crimson robe. Crimson is otherwise the\nspecial colour for war and festival dress (cf. M\u00fcller, _Dorians_,\nii, 264); here it is used in connexion with chthonic cult: ~e/chei\nga/r tina to\\ porphurou=n chr\u00f4=ma sumpa/theian pro\\s to\\n tha/naton~\nsays rightly Artemid. 1, 77, p. 70, 11 H. This can hardly be because\nof the red colour of blood; any more than that is why ~tha/natos~ is\ncalled ~porphu/reos~. But even Homer ~\u00d4~ 796 makes Hektor's bones\nwrapped ~_purphure/ois_ pe/ploisi~--the bones only in this case\ninstead of the whole body: clearly a vestige of an older custom\nwhich survived unchanged in Sparta. Similarly ~Ps~ 254. So, too,\ne.g. in the Dipylon graves at Athens burnt bones were found wrapped\nin a cloth, _Ath. Mitt._ 18, 160-1, 185. The head of the murdered\nbrother ~_phoiniki/di_ ekalupsa/t\u00ean kai\\ ethapsa/t\u00ean~ the two other\nKabeiroi in the religious myth related by Clem. Al., _Protr._ ii, p.\n16 P. Crimson frequently occurs as a colour used in chthonic cult:\ne.g. at the ceremonial ~a/rai~ implying consecration to the infernal\ndeities in [Lys.] 6, 51; at sacrifices to the Plataean Heroes: Plu.,\n_Arist._ 21; at the transfer of the bones of Rhesos: see above,\nchap. iv, n. 36; Polyaen. vi, 53; at sacrifices to the Eumenides,\nAesch., _Eum._ 1028.--The custom of burial upon leaves was also\nretained by the Pythagoreans: they buried their dead (without\nburning them, Iamb., _VP._ 154) in myrti et oleae et populi nigrae\nfoliis (in fact, the trees regularly sacred to the ~chtho/nioi~),\nPlin. 35, 160. Fauvel (ap. Ross, _Arch. Aufs._ i, 31) found in\ngraves by the Melitean gate at Athens le squelette couch\u00e9 sur un lit\n\u00e9pais de feuilles d'olivier encore en \u00e9tat de br\u00fbler. (Olive stones\nin Mycenaean Graves, Tsundas, ~Eph. Arch.~, '88, p. 136; '89, p.\n152.)]\n\n[62\\5: Thus in the letter of Hipparchos, in Phlegon, 1; similarly\nXen. Eph. 3, 7, 4 (see my _Griech. Roman_, p. 391 n. 2). Plato\nwished his Euthynoi to be buried like this on stone ~kli=nai~ (_Lg._\nxii, 947 D); and this is probably how the bodies were placed in the\nrock burial-chambers provided with separate couches, such as occur\nat e.g. Rhodos and Kos {193} (see Ross, _Arch. Aufs._ ii, 384 ff.,\n392): cf. esp. the description given by Heusey, _Mission arch. de\nMac\u00e9doine_ (_Texte_), p. 257 ff., '76. It is the regular mode of\nburial in Etruria (following Greek models?): several skeletons have\nbeen found there lying on couches of masonry in the grave-chambers.]\n\n[63\\5: As though the dead had not entirely departed ~kai\\ ho/pla\nkai\\ skeu/\u00ea kai\\ hima/tia sun\u00ea/th\u00ea toi=s tethn\u00eako/sin suntha/ptontes\nh\u00ea/dion e/chousin~ Plu., _Ne Suav. Ep._ 26, p. 1104 D. Restrictions\nin Law of the Labyad. (l. 19 ff.) ~ho/d' ho tethmo/s per t\u00f4=n\nentoth\u00eak\u00f4=n; m\u00ea\\ ple/on pe/nte kai\\ tria/konta drachma=n enthe/men,\nm\u00ea/te pria/menon m\u00ea/te woi/k\u00f4~.]\n\n[64\\5: Helbig, _Hom. Epos._ 41.]\n\n[65\\5: ~belti/ones kai\\ krei/ttones~. Arist., _Eudem._ 37 [44] ap.\nPlu., _Cons. Apoll._ 27, p. 115 BC.]\n\n[66\\6: [Pl.] _Min._ 315 D. To raise doubts on this point is mere\nperversity. It is of no avail to advance the argument (which is\ncommonly used also against the similar statements about Rome in\nServ., _A._ v, 64; vi, 152) that this story only intends to explain\nthe origin of the worship of the household _Lares_. The Greeks did\nnot have this particular worship, or else it was so completely\nforgotten that no explanatory account of its origin was ever\noffered.--Beside the hearth and the altar of Hestia the most ancient\nresting place of the head of the house must have been placed too.\nWhen the wife of Phokion had had the body of her husband burnt\nabroad ~entheme/n\u00ea t\u00f4=| ko/lp\u00f4| ta\\ osta= kai\\ komi/sasa nu/kt\u00f4r eis\nt\u00ea\\n oiki/an kat\u00f4/ruxe para\\ t\u00ea\\n hesti/an~, Plu., _Phoc._ 37.--It\nwas wrongly believed that in the remarkable rock-graves in the\nneighbourhood of the Pnyx at Athens examples of such graves situated\ninside the house had been discovered. See Milchh\u00f6fer in Baumeister's\n_Denkm._ 153b.]\n\n[67\\5: This occurs among the New Zealanders, Eskimos, etc.; cf.\nLubbock, _Prehistoric Times_, pp. **465, 511, etc.]\n\n[68\\5: In Sparta and Tarentum: see Becker, _Char._^2 iii, 105\n(E.T.^3 p. 393). Acc. to Klearch. ap. Ath. 522 F certain men of\nTarentum were struck by lightning and killed; they were then buried\n~pro\\ t\u00f4=n thur\u00f4=n~ of their houses and ~st\u00ea=lai~ were put up in\ntheir honour. If they had really been the criminals that legend made\nthem it would have been impossible, even in Tarentum, for them to\nhave been buried within the walls of the city, still less before the\ndoors of their houses--an honour given only to Heroes; cf. above,\nchap. iv, n. 136. The violent alteration of ~pro\\ t\u00f4=n thur\u00f4=n~ into\n~pro\\ t\u00f4=n pul\u00f4=n~ in order to avoid this difficulty, is obviously\nrendered untenable by the previous ~heka/st\u00ea t\u00f4=n oiki\u00f4=n ho/sous\nktl.~ The legend is evidently a fiction and these ~dio/bl\u00eatoi~ (to\nwhom it appears, as Heroes, neither the funeral dirge nor the usual\n~choai/~ were offered) must have belonged to the class of those whom\ndeath by the flash of lightning raised to a higher and honoured rank\n(see _Append._ 1). Thus, too, the graves in the market at Megara\nmentioned by Becker must have been Hero-graves: see above, chap. iv,\nn. 83. These cases where the graves of Heroes are found in the\nmiddle of the city, in the market place, etc., show very plainly the\nessential difference that was held to exist between the Heroes and\nthe ordinary dead.]\n\n[69\\5: The ~mn\u00ea=ma koino\\n pa=si toi=s apo\\ Bouse/lou genome/nois~\nwas a ~polu\\s to/pos peribebl\u00eame/nos, h\u00f4/sper hoi archai=oi\neno/mizon~: D. 43, 79. The Bouselidai composed not a ~ge/nos~, but a\ngroup of five ~oi=koi~ bound together by definitely traceable ties\nof kinship. The members of a ~ge/nos~ in its political sense no\nlonger held graves in common possession: see Meier, _de gentil.\nAtt._ 33; Dittenb., _Hermes_, 20, 4. The ~Kim\u00f4/neia {194} mn\u00ea/mata~\nwere also family-graves: Plu., _Cim._ 4, Marcellin. _V. Th._ 17,\nPlu., _X Or._, p. 838 B. It was always insisted on, for obvious\nreasons, that no stranger to the family should be laid in the family\ngrave. But just as the penal clauses so often inscribed on graves of\na later period were necessary to prevent the burial of strangers in\nthose graves, so too Solon had to make a law in respect of graves ne\nquis alienum inferat: Cic., _Lg._ ii, 64.]\n\n[70\\5: The speaker in Dem. 55, 13 ff., mentions the ~palaia\\\nmn\u00ea/mata~ of the ~pro/gonoi~ of the earlier possessors of his\n~ch\u00f4ri/on~ (country-estate). This custom of burying the family dead\nin the private ground of the family ~kai\\ toi=s a/llois ch\u00f4ri/ois\nsumbe/b\u00eake~. Timarchos is asked by his mother ~to\\ Al\u00f4pe/k\u00ea|si\nch\u00f4ri/on~ (which lay 11 or 12 stades away from the city walls)\n~_entaph\u00ea=nai_ hupolipei=n aut\u00ea=|~ (in spite of which he sold it):\nAeschin., _Tim._ 99. Examples in East Attica of walled-in family\ncemeteries with room for many graves: Belger, _Localsage von den\nGr\u00e4bern Agamem._, etc. (Progr. Berl. 1893), pp. 40-2. It was thus\nthe very general custom to keep the family graves on their own\nground and soil; and this corresponds closely enough with the oldest\ncustom of all, that of burying the master of the house in his own\nhome.--In Plu., _Arist._ 1, Demetr. Phal. mentions an ~Aristei/dou\nch\u00f4ri/on en h\u00f4=| te/thaptai~ in Phaleron.]\n\n[71\\5: Restriction of the growing magnificence of grave columns in\nAthens made by Demetr. Phal., Cic., _Lg._ ii, 66. (Penal clauses\n~ei/ ti/s ka tha/[pt\u00ea| \u00ea\\ epi/]stama ephista=| ktl.~ in a law from\nNisyros [_Berl. Phil. Woch._ 1896, pp. 190, 420]: they probably do\nnot refer to a general prohibition of tombstones altogether.)]\n\n[72\\5: Cf. Curtius, _Z. Ges. Wegebaus Gr._, p. 262.]\n\n[73\\5: Nemora aptabant sepulcris ut in amoenitate animae forent post\nvitam: Serv., _A._ v, 760. In lucis habitabant manes piorum: iii,\n302; cf. ad i, 441; vi, 673. \"My grave is in a grove, the pleasant\nhaunt of birds,\" says a dead man ~o/phra kai\\ ein A/\u00efdi terpno\\n\ne/choimi to/pon~, _Epigr. Gr._ 546, 5-14.]\n\n[74\\5: Cf. the ins. from Keos, _SIG._ 877, 8-9. Eur. _IT._ 633 ff.:\n~xanth\u00f4=| t' elai/\u00f4| s\u00f4=ma so\\n katasbe/s\u00f4, kai\\ **. . . ga/nos\nxouth\u00ea=s meli/ss\u00eas es pura\\n bal\u00f4=~.]\n\n[75\\5: ~enagi/zein de\\ bou=n ouk ei/asen~, Plu., _Sol._ 21.]\n\n[76\\5: ~prosphagi/\u00f4|~ (at the funeral) ~chr\u00ea=sthai kata\\ ta\\\npa/tria~, _SIG._ 877, 13. In general, however, the sacrifice of\nanimals at the graves of private individuals gradually became rarer\nand rarer: see Stengel, _Chthon. u. Todt._ 430 f.]\n\n[77\\5: Cf. esp. the ins. from Keos, l. 15 ff., 30. The\n~egchutri/striai~ employed in old Athenian usage, [Pl.] _Min._ 315\nC, seem to have been women who caught the blood of the sacrificed\nanimals in bowls and purified the ~miaino/menoi~ with it. The name\nitself suggests it; to this effect is one among several other,\nclearly mistaken, explanations given by the Schol. to _Min._, loc.\ncit. (differently Sch. Ar., _Vesp._ 289).]\n\n[78\\5: ~peri\\ ta\\ pe/nth\u00ea . . . homopathei/a| tou= kekm\u00eako/tos\nkolobou=men h\u00eama=s autou\\s t\u00ea=| te koura=| t\u00f4=n trich\u00f4=n kai\\ t\u00ea=|\nt\u00f4=n stepha/n\u00f4n aphaire/sei~, Arist. _fr._ 108 (101) Rose.]\n\n[79\\5: ~peri/deipnon~. This is implied as universally occurring by\nAen. Tact. 10, 5. This meal shared by the relatives (who alone are\ninvited: Dem. 43, 62) must be meant by Heraklid., _Pol._ 30, 2,\n~para\\ toi=s Lo/krois odu/resthai ouk e/stin epi\\ toi=s\nteleut\u00ea/sasin, all' epeida\\n ekkomi/s\u00f4sin eu\u00f4chou=ntai~.]\n\n[80\\5: ~h\u00ea hupodoch\u00ea\\ gi/gnetai hupo\\ tou= apothano/ntos~, Artemid.\n5, 82, p. 271, 10 H.]\n\n[81\\5: Cic., _Lg._ ii, 63 (cf. **~le/gein epide/xia epi\\\ntethn\u00eako/ti~, Anaxandr. ap. Ath. 464 A.). On the other {195} hand,\nmentiri nefas erat. And yet ~ei\u00f4/thesan hoi palaioi\\ en toi=s\nperidei/pnois to\\n teleut\u00eako/ta epainei=n, kai\\ ei phau=los \u00ea=n~,\nZenob. v, 28, and other Paroemiogr.--Besides this the lamentation\nfor the dead may have been renewed at the various commemorations of\nthe dead; the funeral regulation of the Labyadai at Delphi forbids\nexpressly (not the festival but) the funeral dirge on such\noccasions: l. 46 ff. ~m\u00eade\\ ta=| husterai/a|~ (after the burial, on\nwhich day the ~peri/deipnon~ was held) ~m\u00eade\\ en tai=s deka/tais\nm\u00ead' en toi=s eniautoi=[s]~ (we should expect rather ~en t.\n_eniauti/ois_~, cf. nn. 88-92 of this chap.) ~m\u00ea/t' oim\u00f4/zen m\u00ea/t'\nototu/zen~.]\n\n[82\\5: These meals given to the dead took place at the grave itself.\nAr., _Lys._ 612 f. ~h\u00ea/xei soi . . .~; Is. 8, 39, ~ta\\ e/nata\nep\u00ea/negka~.]\n\n[83\\5: The ~tri/ta~ and ~e/nata~, at any rate, were held on the\nthird and ninth days after the funeral, and not after the day of\ndeath. It is true the references to these sacrifices in Ar., _Lys._\n612 ff., Is., etc., do not make this very clear. But if the ~tri/ta~\nhad taken place on the third day after death it would have coincided\nwith the ~ekphora/~ itself, which is against all the evidence.\nFurther, the Roman _novemdiale_, which was clearly modelled on Greek\ncustom, also occurred on the ninth day after the burial, acc. to the\nunequivocal testimony of Porph. on Hor., _Epod._ xvii, 48 (nona die\nquam sepultus est). This is also deducible from Vg., _A._ v, 46 ff.,\nand 105; cf. also Ap., _M._ ix, 31.]\n\n[84\\5: That this was the object of the Novemdialia festival at Rome\nis shown clearly enough by the evidence; that the same was true of\nGreece is at least highly probable; cf. K. O. M\u00fcller, _Aesch. Eum._,\np. 143 [120 E.T.]. Leist, _Graecoitalische Rechts._, p. 34.--Nine is\nevidently a round number, esp. in Homer; i.e. the division of\nperiods of time into groups of nine was in antiquity a very common\nand familiar practice. Cf. now, Kaegi, _Die Neunzahl bei den\nOstariern_, Phil. Abh. f. Schweitzer-Sidler, 50 ff. Mourning customs\nwere really intended to ward off maleficent action on the part of\nthe dead. They lasted as a rule as long as the return of the soul of\nthe dead was to be feared (esp. so in India: see Oldenberg, _Rel. d.\nVeda_, p. 589), and acc. to ancient belief the soul can return once\nmore on the ninth day after death. See below, chap. xiv, ii, n.\n154.]\n\n[85\\5: A ~chro/nos pe/nthous~ of eleven days, the mourning concluded\nwith a sacrifice to Demeter: Plu., _Lyc._ 27; cf. Hdt. vi, 58 fin.\nThe Labyadai at Delphi celebrate the _tenth_ day after the funeral\nas a feast of the dead; see above, n. 81 of this chapter. This\nmourning period is not otherwise demonstrable for Greece (_SIG._\n633, 5, is different), but it is met with again among the Indians\nand Persians (cf. Kaegi, p. 5, 11), and may be primitive.]\n\n[86\\5: Lex. Rh., in _AB._ 268, 19 ff.; Phot. a little differently:\n~kathe/dra; t\u00ea=| triakost\u00ea=| (pr\u00f4/t\u00ea|~ Phot.: ~A~ instead of ~L~)\n~h\u00eame/ra| tou= apothano/ntos hoi pros\u00ea/kontes suneltho/ntes koin\u00ea=|\nedeipnou=n epi\\ t\u00f4=| apothano/nti--kai\\ tou=to kathe/dra ekalei=to~\n(Phot. adds: ~ho/ti kathezo/menoi edei/pnoun kai\\ ta\\ nomizo/mena\nepl\u00ea/roun;) \u00ea=san de\\ kathe/drai te/ssares~ (the last clause is\nabsent from Phot.) It was a meal shared by the relatives of the dead\nin honour of the dead and held \"on the thirtieth day\"; possibly\nnothing more nor less than the oft-mentioned ~triaka/des~. The\nguests eat their food _sitting_ after the old custom prevailing in\nHomeric times and always observed by women; as applied to men it\nsurvived in Crete only, see M\u00fcller, _Dorians_, ii, 284. Perhaps this\nprimitive attitude preserved in cultus is what we see in the Spartan\nsculptured reliefs representing \"feasts of the dead\" where the\nfigures are _seated_. There were four such ~kathe/drai~, i.e. the\nperiod of mourning extended over four months: thus it was the law in\nGambreion (_SIG._ 879, 11 ff.) that {196} mourning might last at the\nmost three months, or in the case of women four. We often hear of\nmonthly repetitions of the feasts of the dead: monthly celebration\nof the ~eika/des~ for Epicurus in acc. with his will, D.L. x, 18;\ncf. Cic., _Fin._ ii, 101; Plin. 35, 5; ~kata\\ m\u00ea=na~ sacrifice to\nthe deified Ptolemies, _CIG._ 4697, 48. (In India, too, the\nsacrifices to the dead on the thirtieth of the month were several\ntimes repeated: Kaegi, 7; 11.)]\n\n[87\\5: The Lexicographers, Harp., Phot., etc. (_AB._ 308, 5, is\nambiguous, too), speak of the ~triaka/s~ in a way that makes it hard\nto see whether they mean the traditional sacrifice of the dead\ntaking place regularly on the thirtieth day of the month, or a\nspecial offering on the thirtieth day after burial or after the day\nof death (~h\u00ea triakost\u00ea\\ h\u00eame/ra dia\\ tou= thana/tou~ Harp., Phot.\n~meta\\ tha/naton~ is the correction of Sch\u00f6mann on Is., p. 219, but\n~dia\\ thana/tou~ is formed, not quite correctly, on the analogy of\n~dia\\ chro/nou, dia\\ me/sou~ [even ~dia\\ progo/n\u00f4n~ \"since the time\nof our forefathers\", Polyb. 21, 21, 4], and must mean the same\nthing, viz. \"after death\"). But in Lys. 1, 14, we have the idea\nclearly expressed that the period of mourning should last till the\nthirtieth day (see Becker, _Char._^2 3, 117 E.T.^3, p. 398), and in\nthis case it is natural to suppose that the ~triaka/des~\ncorresponding with the ~tri/ta~ and ~e/nata~, took place on the\nthirtieth day after burial. So, too, the ins. from Keos, _SIG._ 877,\n21, ~epi\\ t\u00f4=| thano/nti tri\u00eako/stia m\u00ea\\ poiei=n~. For Argos see\nPlu., _Q. Gr._ 24, p. 296 F. It is evident that the ~triaka/des~\nwere not so firmly established in Athens (at least in the fourth\ncentury) as the ~tri/ta~ and ~e/nata~: e.g. Isaeus generally only\nrefers to these last as the indispensable ~nomizo/mena~: 2, 36-7; 8,\n39. It appears also that it is wrong to regard the ~triaka/des~ as\notherwise exactly on a footing with the ~tr.~ and ~e/nata~, as is\ngenerally done. The last-mentioned pair were sacrifices to the dead,\nthe ~triaka/des~ seems to have been a commemorative banquet of the\nliving.--These fixed periods of mourning like so much else in the\ncult of the dead may have been handed down by tradition from a very\nearly time. The third, ninth (or tenth), and thirtieth days after\nthe funeral marked stages in the gradually diminishing \"uncleanness\"\nof the relatives of the dead, and this existed, it appears, already\nin \"Indo-Germanic\" times. Until the ninth day the relatives were\nstill in contact with the departed and were consequently \"unclean\";\nthe thirtieth day puts an end to this, and is a memorial festival\n(though often repeated); cf. Kaegi, pp. 5, 10, 12 (of the separate\nedition); Oldenberg, 578. In Christian usage, sanctioned by the\nchurch, the third, ninth, and fortieth days after death or after\nburial were very early observed as memorial days (sometimes third,\nseventh, thirtieth; cf. Rochholz, _D. Gl. u. Brauch_, i, 203), and\nsurvive in some cases to the present day: see _Ac. Soc. ph. Lips._\nv, 304 f.]\n\n[88\\5: ~ta\\ neku/sia t\u00ea=| triaka/di a/getai~: Plu., _Prov. Alex._\nviii, p. 6, 10 Crus. (App. prov. Vat. in Schneidewin's Crit. App. to\nDiogen. viii, 39). There was a festival kept by servants in honour\nof their dead masters (~allathea/des~, _GDI._ 1731, 10; 1775, 29;\n1796, 6) twice monthly, at the ~_noum\u00eani/a_~ and on the seventh:\n_GDI._ 1801, 6-7 Delphi. The last three days of the month are at\nAthens sacred to the inhabitants of the lower world and therefore\n~apophra/des~: _EM._ 131, 13 f.; _E. Gud._ 70, 3 ff.; cf. Lys.,\n_fr._ 53. On these days banquets were prepared, at the crossroads,\netc., for Hekate (acc. to Ath. 325 A, for Hekate ~kai\\ toi=s\napotropai/ois~ (Plu., _Symp._ 7, 6, p. 709 A). The souls of the dead\nwere then not forgotten. Sch. Pl., _Lg._ vii, 800 D, ~apophra/des\nh\u00eame/rai en hai=s toi=s katoichome/nois choa\\s epiphe/rousin~.]\n{197}\n\n[89\\5: The son ~enagi/zei kath' he/kaston eniauto/n~ to his dead\nfather, Is. 2, 46. This sacrifice to the dead, celebrated once every\nyear (~thusi/a epe/teios~ offered by a ~pai=s patri/~), is the\nfestival of the _~Gene/sia~_, in vogue acc. to Hdt. iv, 26, among\nthe Greeks, everywhere as it appears. As the name shows this\nfestival fell on the birthday of the honoured ancestor as it\nrecurred (not on the day of his death as Amm. pp. 34-5 Valck.\nincorrectly says); cf. Schol. Pl., _Alc._ i, 121 C. So Epicurus in\nhis will (D.L. x, 18) provides for a yearly celebration of his\nbirthday. (Similar foundation, _CIG._ 3417.) The Koans ~enagi/zousi~\nto Hippokrates every year on the 27th Agrianos as his birthday:\nSoran., _V.Hp._, p. 450, 13-14 West. Hero-festivals, too, fall on\nthe birthday of the Hero: Plu., _Arat._ 53. Gods have their\nfeast-days and their birthdays combined; thus Hermes has his on the\n4th of the month, Artemis on the 6th, Apollo on the 7th, and so on.\nThese are birthday festivals repeated every month. In the second\ncentury at Sestos, following such precedents, there was held ~ta\\\ngene/thlia tou= basile/\u00f4s~ (one of the deified Attalids) ~kath'\nhe/kaston m\u00ea=na~: _SIG._^1 246, 36. Celebration of the ~e/mm\u00eanos\ngene/sios~ of the ruling Emperor: _Ins. Perg._ ii, 374 B, 14. Even\nin later times in imitation of heathen usage the Kephallenians still\nhonour Epiphanes, son of Karpokrates, ~kata\\ _noum\u00eani/an,\ngene/thlion_ apothe/\u00f4sin~, Clem. Al., _Str._ iii, p. 511 P.]\n\n[90\\5: This is the public festival meant by Phryn., p. 103 Lob. =\n83, p. 184 Ruth., when, to distinguish it from the birthday\ncelebrations of living persons, ~gene/thlia~ (which did not become\ncommon till later), he calls the ~Gene/sia, Ath\u00ea/n\u00easin heort\u00ea/\n[pe/nthimos~ add. Meursius; cf. Hesych. ~gene/sia~; _AB._ 231, 19].\nThe Antiatticista, in his rather absurd polemic against Phryn. (p.\n86, 20 ff.), adds the still clearer statement (taken from Solon's\n~a/xones~ and Philochoros) that the ~heort\u00ea\\ d\u00eamotel\u00ea/s~ of the\n~Gene/sia~ at Athens was held on the 5th Boedromion. There is not\nthe slightest reason for doubting the correctness of this statement\n(as many have done). In Rome, too, besides the many moveable\n_parentalia_ of the families there was an official and public\nParentalia held every year (in Feb.). Similarly in ancient India:\nOldenberg, 550, 3.]\n\n[91\\5: The ~Neme/seia~ is mentioned by Dem. 41, 11. The context\nsuggests a rite performed by a daughter in honour of her dead\nfather. It is a quite certainly correct _conjecture_ (~m\u00ea/pote--~)\nof the Lexicog. that the _Nemeseia_ may be a festival of the dead\n(see Harp. s.v. _AB._ 282, 32: both glosses combined in Phot. Suid.\n~neme/sia~). It is clear, however, that they knew nothing further\nabout it. Mommsen declares (_Heort._ 209) the _Nemeseia_ to have\nbeen \"without doubt\" identical with the ~Gene/sia~. I see no reason\nat all for supposing so.--The name ~neme/seia~ characterizes it as a\nfestival dedicated to the \"wrath\" of the dead, to the ~ne/mesis t\u00f4=n\nthano/nt\u00f4n~, Soph., _El._ 792; ~phthime/n\u00f4n \u00f4kuta/t\u00ea ne/mesis~,\n_Epigr. Gr._ 119; cf. 195--this easily becomes a personified\n~Ne/mesis~: ~e/sti ga\\r en phthime/nois Ne/mesis me/ga~, _Epigr.\nGr._ 367, 9. The cult of the dead, like the cult of the underworld\nin general, is always apotropaic in character (placantur sacrificiis\nne noceant, Serv., _A._ iii, 63): the Nemeseia must then have been\napotropaic in intention too.]\n\n[92\\5: At Apollonia in Chalcidice there was a yearly custom to ~ta\\\nno/mima suntelei=n toi=s teleut\u00ea/sasin~ in early times in\nElaphebolion, later in Anthesterion: Hegesand. ap. Ath. 334\nF.--~eniau/sia~, a yearly festival of the dead (but perhaps rather\nto be taken as _sacra privata_) in Keos: _SIG._ 878.--There is a\nmonth called ~Neku/sios~ in Knossos (and common to the whole of\nCrete acc. to the ~H\u00eamerolo/gion~ Flor. [Corsini, _Fast. Att._ ii,\n428]). It took its name from a feast of the dead (~neku/sia~ is\nmentioned along with ~peri/deipna~, as a regular expression by\nArtemid. {193} iv, 81, p. 249, 9 H.): for this see \"Treaties of\nKretan cities\", _BCH._ 1879, 294, l. 56 f.--There was a month\n~Agri\u00f4/nios~ or ~Agria/nios~ in Boeotia and even in Byzantium,\nKalymna, Kos, Rhodos: Hesych. ~Agria/nia; _neku/sia_ para\\ Argei/ois\nkai\\ ag\u00f4=nes en _Th\u00ea/bais_~ (as to the _Agon_ at the A. see the ins.\nfrom Thebes, _Ath. Mitt._ vii, 349).--~etelei=to de\\ kai\\ thusi/a\ntoi=s nekroi=s en Kori/nth\u00f4|, di' h\u00ea\\n t\u00ea=s po/le\u00f4s en toi=s\nmn\u00ea/masin ou/s\u00eas epe/rchetai ho Al\u00ea/t\u00eas ktl.~ Sch. Pi. _N._ vii,\n155.]\n\n[93\\5: Hesych. ~miarai\\ h\u00eame/rai~. Phot. ~miara\\ h\u00eame/ra~.]\n\n[94\\5: ~sugkleisth\u00ea=nai ta\\ hiera\\~ during the _Choes_: Phanodem.\nap. Ath. 437 C.]\n\n[95\\5: Phot. ~miara\\ h\u00eame/ra; en toi=s Chousi\\n Anthest\u00eari\u00f4=nos\nm\u00eano/s, en h\u00f4=|~ (~en hoi=s~?) ~dokou=sin hai psuchai\\ t\u00f4=n\nteleut\u00easa/nt\u00f4n anie/nai, rha/mnon he/\u00f4then emas\u00f4=nto, kai\\ pi/tt\u00ea|\nta\\s thu/ras e/chrion. Rha/mnos; phuto/n, ho\\ en toi=s Chousi\\n h\u00f4s\nalexipha/rmakon emas\u00f4=nto he/\u00f4then; kai\\ pi/tt\u00ea| echri/onto ta\\\ns\u00f4/mata~ (leg. ~d\u00f4/mata); ami/antos ga\\r hau/t\u00ea; dio\\ kai\\ en **tai=s\ngene/sesi t\u00f4=n paidi/\u00f4n chri/ousi ta\\s oiki/as eis ape/lasin t\u00f4=n\ndaimo/n\u00f4n~.--I do not recollect having read elsewhere of pitch as a\nprotection against malevolent spirits or of its use in Greek\nsuperstitious practices. (The _flame_ and _smoke_ of burning\npitch--and of ~a/sphaltos~: Diph. _fr._ 126 [ii, p. 577 K.] ap.\nClem. Al. _Str._ 7, 4, 26, p. 844 P.--as of sulphur, belong to the\nregion of magic and are ~katharmoi/~: but that is a different\nmatter.--~ta\\ katha/rsia; tau=ta de/ esti da=|des kai\\ thei=on kai\\\na/sphaltos~, Zos. ii, 5, p. 67, 19 Bk.). Better known is the magic\nprotective power of the ~rha/mnos~. It is of use against ~pha/rmaka~\nand ~phanta/smata~, and is therefore hung up on the doors ~en toi=s\nenagi/smasi~: Sch. Nic., _Th._ 860 (Euphorion and Sophnon had also\nreferred to this superstition). Cf. Anon., _de Vir. Herb._ 9-13, 20\nff., and the Scholia (p. 486, ed. Haupt., _Opusc._ 2); also\nDioscorides i, 119 fin. (~rha/mnos~ also frightens away poisonous\nbeasts: Diosc. iii, 12. In the same way marjoram and scilla are\nequally available against daimones and ~iobo/la~.) At Rome the\nhawthorn (_spina alba_) is specially known for these purificatory\nproperties. Ovid, _F._ vi, 129 (at a wedding procession a torch made\nof a branch of the _spina alba_ is used [Fest. 245_a_, 3 M\u00fc.], and\nthis is _purgationis causa_: Varro ap. Charis., p. 144, 22 K.).--At\nthe _Choes_ the ~rha/mnos~ (i.e. twigs or leaves of it) is _chewed_:\nthis is in order that its powers may be absorbed into the chewer's\nown body. The Superstitious man (like the Pythia) puts laurel leaves\nin his mouth ~kai\\ hou/t\u00f4 t\u00ea\\n h\u00eame/ran peripatei=~: also at the\n_Choes_? Thphr., _Ch._ 16. The laurel in addition to its other\nmarvellous properties can also drive off spirits: ~e/ntha a\\n h\u00ea=|\nda/phn\u00ea, ekpod\u00f4\\n dai/mones~, _Gp._ 11, 2, 5-7. Lyd., _Mens._ 4, 4,\np. 68, 9 W\u00fc.]\n\n[96\\5: Sch. Ar., _Ach._ 961, p. 26, 8 ff. D\u00fcbn.--At the ~nekr\u00f4=n\ndei=pna~ the souls of the departed members of the family are\nsummoned by the ~pros\u00ea/kontes~ to come and take their share (with\nthe single exception of those who have hanged themselves): Artemid.\ni, 4, p. 11, 10 f. H. (cf. what is said of the ~neku/sia~ in\nBithynia by Arr. ap. Eust., ~i~ 65, p. 1615). The same thing must\nhave happened at the Anthesteria.]\n\n[97\\5: Worshippers offered the ~chu/tran panspermi/as~ to Hermes\n~hilasko/menoi to\\n Herm\u00ea=n kai\\ peri\\ t\u00f4=n apothano/nt\u00f4n~, Sch.\nAr., _Ach._ 1076 (Didymus from Theopomp.)--~tou\\s to/te\nparagenome/nous~ (read ~periginome/nous~, viz. from the Flood)\n~hupe\\r t\u00f4=n apothano/nt\u00f4n hila/sasthai to\\n Herm\u00ea=n~, Sch. Ar.,\n_Ran._ 218 (after Theop.). The offering was merely placed ready for\nthe recipients (not sent up to heaven in flames and smoke) as was\ncustomary at the Theoxenia (esp. those in honour of chthonic\ndeities) and in offerings made to Heroes. The ~Heka/t\u00eas dei=pna~\nwere similar, and particularly the offerings to the Erinyes: ~ta\\\npempo/mena autai=s hiera\\ po/pana kai\\ ga/la en a/ggesi\nkeramei/ois~, Sch. Aeschin. i, 188.] {199}\n\n[98\\5: _EM._ 774, 56: ~Hudropho/ria; heort\u00ea\\ Ath\u00ea/n\u00easi pe/nthimos~\n(so far Hesych. too, s.v.) ~epi\\ toi=s en t\u00f4=| kataklusm\u00f4=|\napolome/nois~. The feast of _Chytrai_ was also supposed to have been\na commemoration of Deucalion's Flood. The flood was said to have\nsubsided finally through a cleft in the earth in the Temple of ~G\u00ea=\nOlumpi/a~: Paus. 1, 18, 7. Pausanias adds, ~esba/llousin es auto\\~\n(the chasm) ~ana\\ pa=n e/tos a/lphita pur\u00f4=n me/liti ma/xantes~. It\nis at least natural, with Preller, _Dem. u. Pers._ 229, n., to see\nin the _Hydrophoria_ a part of which is described by Pausanias, a\nfestival related to the Chytrai. Connexion of the dead with ~G\u00ea=~ in\nthe ~Gene/sia~ too: Hesych. s.v.--~Hudropho/ria~ a feast of Apollo\nat Aegina: Sch. Pi., _N._ v, 81 (fanciful remarks thereon by K. O.\nM\u00fcller, in _Aesch. Eum._, p. 141 [116 E.T.]).]\n\n[99\\5: Ovid's account of the _Lemuria_ at Rome, _F._ v, shows the\nclosest resemblances to the Athen. customs. The spirits are finally\ndriven out: Manes exite paterni! (443). The same happens in the\nfestivals of the dead in many places: esp. in India, Oldenberg, 553;\ncf. also the Esthonian customs: Grimm, p. 1844, n. 42. A parallel\nfrom ancient Prussia is given (after Joh. Meletius, 1551) by Ch.\nHartknoch, in _Alt- u. Neues Preussen_, 1684, pp. 187-8. There on\nthe third, sixth, ninth, and fortieth day after the funeral a\nbanquet of the relatives of the dead was held. The souls of the dead\nwere invited and (with other souls as well) entertained. \"When the\nfeasting was ended the priest rose from the table and swept out the\nhouse, driving forth the souls of the dead as though he were driving\nout fleas, saying the while: 'Ye have eaten and drunk, O ye Blessed\nOnes, depart hence! depart hence!'\" At the close of the\nlantern-feast to the dead in Nagasaki (Japan) when the entertainment\nof the souls was over a great noise was made all over the house \"so\nthat no single soul should remain behind and haunt the place--they\nmust be driven out without mercy\": _Preuss. Exped. nach Ostasien_,\nii, 22. Other examples of the expulsion of souls given in Tylor, ii,\n199. The ghosts were thought of in a thoroughly materialistic\nfashion, and driven out by waving clubs in the air, swinging\ntorches, etc., as in the case of the ~xenikoi\\ theoi/~ of the\nKaunians: Hdt. i, 172. Compare with this the prayers addressed to\nHerakles in the Orphic Hymns (reproducing ancient superstitions as\nfrequently): ~elthe\\ ma/kar . . . exe/lason de\\ kaka\\s _a/tas,\nkla/don en cheri\\ pa/ll\u00f4n_, pt\u00eanoi=s t' iobo/lois _k\u00ea=ras_ chalepa\\s\napo/pempe~ (12, 15-16). It will be clear how near such personified\n~a=tai~ and ~k\u00ea=res~ are to the angry \"souls\", from which in fact\nthey have arisen; cf. besides, Orph., _H._ 11, 23; 14, 14; 36, 16;\n71, 11.--~k\u00ea=ras apodiopompei=sthai~, Plu., _Lys._ 17.]\n\n[100\\5: ~thu/raze _K\u00ea=res_, ouk e/t' Anthest\u00ea/ria~. This is the\ncorrect wording of the formula; ~Ka=res~ the form common later and\nexplained with mistaken ingenuity. Photius has it right and\nexplains, ~h\u00f4s kata\\ t\u00ea\\n po/lin toi=s Anthest\u00eari/ous t\u00f4=n\n_psuch\u00f4=n_ perierchome/n\u00f4n.--K\u00ea=res~--is clearly a most primitive\nequivalent for ~psuchai/~ which has become almost completely\nobscured in Homer, though it dimly appears in ~B~ 302, ~x~ 207,\nwhere the ~K\u00ea=res~ are spoken of as those who carry away other\n~psuchai/~ to Hades. Aeschylus knew it (presumably from old Attic\nspeech) and simply substituted ~psuchai/~ for the Keres in the\nfate-weighing scene in Homer, thus turning the Kerostasia into a\n~Psuchostasi/a~ (to the surprise of the Schol. A, ~Th~ 70; A.B. ~Ch~\n209). See O. Crusius in Ersch-Gruber, \"Keren,\" 2, 35, 265-7 [Aesch.\n_fr._ 279 Sidg.].]\n\n[101\\5: Cf. the collections in Pottier, _Les l\u00e9cythes blancs\nattiques \u00e0 repr\u00e9s. fun\u00e9r._, p. 57, 70 ff.]\n\n[102\\5: Though not all of them, some at any rate of the scenes in\nwhich {200} lyre-playing at a grave is represented on a lekythos are\nto be taken as implying that the living provide music for the\nentertainment of the dead: see Furtw\u00e4ngler on the _Sammlung\nSaburoff._ i, Pl. lx.]\n\n[103\\5: See **Benndorf, _Sicil. u. unterital. Vasenb._, p. 33.]\n\n[104\\5: How the mode of conceiving the spiritual activity of the\ndead and consequently the cult of the dead was at first more solemn\nand awestruck and completely on a par with the cult of the\n~chtho/nioi~; how in the course of time the relations of the living\nto the departed became more familiar and the cult of the dead\ncorrespondingly less awe-inspiring, more piously protective in\ncharacter than apotropaic--all this is set out in more detail by P.\nStengel, _Chthonisch. u. Todtencult_ [Festschrift f\u00fcr Friedl\u00e4nder],\np. 414 ff.]\n\n[105\\5: The reliefs represent a man enthroned, sometimes alone,\nsometimes with a woman beside him, stretching out a kantharos to\nreceive the offerings. As a rule he is approached by a group of\nworshippers represented on a smaller scale. The earliest examples of\nthese reliefs were found in Sparta and go back to the sixth century.\nSince the investigations of Milchh\u00f6fer especially, they are now\ngenerally recognised as representing the family worship of the dead.\nThey are the forerunners of the representations of similar\nfood-offerings in which (following later custom) the Hero is lying\non a _kline_ and receiving his worshippers. (That this class of\nreliefs representing \"banquets of the dead\" was also sacrificial in\ncharacter is proved clearly by the presence of the worshippers who\nin many cases lead sacrificial victims. H. v. Fritze in _Ath. Mitt._\n'96, p. 347 ff., supposes that they are intended to represent not\nsacrifices but the ~sumpo/sion~ which the dead person is to enjoy in\nthe after life. But he can only account for the presence of the\nworshippers in such a forced and unnatural way [p. 356 ff.], that\nthis alone seems to refute his theory. ~purami/des~ and incense\namong the offerings made do not by any means contradict its nature\nas a sacrifice to the dead.) The same is the meaning of the reliefs\nfound esp. in Boeotia in which the person worshipped is seated on a\nhorse, or leading a horse, and accepting offerings (summary by\nWolters, _Arch\u00e4ol. Zeitung_, 1882, p. 299 ff.; cf. also Gardner,\n_JHS._ 1884, pp. 107-42; Furtw\u00e4ngler, _Samml. Sab._ i, p. 23). The\nworshippers bring pomegranates, a cock (e.g. _Ath. Mitt._ ii, Pl.\n20-2), a pig (cock and pig on Theban relief: _A. Mitt._ iii, 377;\npig on Boeotian rel.: _A. Mitt._ iv, Pl. 17, 2), a ram (rel. from\nPatras: _A. Mitt._ iv, 125 f.; cf. the ram's head on a grave\nmonument from the neighbourhood of Argos, _A. Mitt._ viii, 141). All\nthese gifts are of the kind proper to the underworld. We know the\npomegranate as food of the ~chtho/nioi~ from the Hymn to Demeter;\nthe pig and ram are the main constituents of sacrifice made to the\n~chtho/nioi~ and burnt in cathartic or hilastic (propitiatory)\nceremonial. In such cases the cock, of course, does not appear\nbecause it was sacred to Helios and Selene (cf. D.L. viii, 34;\nIamb., _VP._ 84), but because it was a sacrificial animal of the\n~chtho/nioi~ (and of Asklepios) and for the same reason much used in\nnecromancy, spirit-raising, and magic [Dieterich, _Pap. mag._ 185,\n3]. As such it was forbidden food to the Mystai of Demeter at\nEleusis: Porph., _Abs._ 4, 16, p. 255, 5 N. Sch. Luc., _D. Me._ 7,\n4, p. 280, 23 Rabe--Anyone who partakes of the food of the\nunderworld spirits is forfeit to them. On their side the reclining\nor enthroned spirits of the dead on these reliefs are brought into\nconjunction with a snake (_A. Mitt._ ii, Pl. 20-2; viii, Pl. 18, 1,\netc.), a dog, or a horse (sometimes a horse's head only occurs). The\nsnake is the well-known symbol of the Hero: the {201} dog and the\nhorse certainly do not represent victims as Gardner, p. 131,\nthinks--their real meaning has not yet been made out. The horse\noccurs sometimes by the side of women and therefore can hardly\nsymbolize a knight's status. I regard it as also a symbol of the\ndeparted as now having entered the spirit-world, like the snake too\n(Grimm understands it differently: p. 841 f., 844). I can form no\ndecided opinion as to the dog: it is not likely to be mere\ngenre--any more than anything else in these sculptures.]\n\n[106\\5: The ~choai/, ha/per nekroi=si meilikt\u00ea/ria~, of wine, honey,\nwater, or oil, which are offered in Tragedy by children at the grave\nof a father--A. _Pers._ 609 ff.; _Ch._ 84 ff.; E., _IT._ 159\nff.--are modelled upon the food offerings to the dead in real life.\nHoney and water (~meli/kraton~) were always the chief ingredients:\ncf. Stengel, _Philolog._ 39, 378 ff.; _Jahr. f. Phil._ 1887, p. 653.\nThe ritual at the pouring of an ~apo/nimma~--essentially a cathartic\nlibation-sacrifice but also offered ~eis tim\u00ea\\n toi=s nekroi=s~ is\ndescribed by Kleidemos ~en t\u00f4=| Ex\u00eag\u00eatik\u00f4=|~ (the quotation is not\ncomplete, Ath. 409 E f. (Striking similarities in ritual and\nlanguage in Indian sacrifice to the dead: Oldenberg, _Rel. d. Ved._\n550. Something extremely primitive may be preserved in these uses.)\nThe same is the meaning of the ~chtho/nia loutra\\ toi=s nekroi=s\nepiphero/mena~, Zenob. vi, 45, etc. These things have nothing to do\nwith the ~Hudropho/ria~, as some have thought.]\n\n[107\\5: The regular animal used as victim in ~enagi/smata~ for the\ndead is a sheep; other animals occur less frequently. The black\ncolour is general; the sacrifice was burnt completely: cf. the\ninstances collected by Stengel, _Ztschr. f. Gymnasi._, 1880, p. 743\nf., _Jahrb. f. Phil._ 1882, p. 322 f.; '83, p. 375.--Phot.\n~kausto/n; karp\u00f4to\\n ho\\ enagi/zetai toi=s teteleut\u00eako/sin~ (cf.\nHesych. ~kauto/n~).--The ~se/linon~ (a plant sacred to the dead; see\nabove, n. 40) probably served as food for the dead at the ~tri/ta~\nand other banquets \"of the dead\", and was not used as food for the\nliving at the ~peri/deipnon~; consequently it might never be used at\nthe meals of the living: Plin. 20, 113, following Chrysippos and\nDionysios. (In the mysteries of the Kabeiroi the ~anaktotele/stai~\nhad a special reason of their own for forbidding parsley ~auto/rizon\nepi\\ trape/z\u00eas tithe/nai~, Clem. Al., _Protr._ ii, p. 16 P.)]\n\n[108\\5: The food offered is a meal for the dead: A., _Ch._ 483 ff.\n(cf. Luc., _Luct._ 9; _Char._ 22). The dead man is summoned to come\nand drink the offerings (~elthe\\ d' h\u00f4s pi/\u00ea|s~): E., _Hec._ 535 ff.\nIt was the general opinion that ~ho nekro\\s pi/etai~ of the drink\nofferings (_AP._ xi, 8; _Epigr. Gr._ 646, 12), ~hai ga\\r choai\\\nparapsuch\u00ea/ tis eisephe/reto toi=s eid\u00f4/lois t\u00f4=n teteleut\u00eako/t\u00f4n\nktl.~ Lyd., _Mens._ 4, 31, p. 90 W\u00fc.]\n\n[109\\5: It feels when friends or enemies approach its grave: Is. 9,\n4, 19.]\n\n[110\\5: Sch. Ar., _Av._ 1490 (referring to the ~Titano/panes~ of\nMyrtilos, a poet of the Old Comedy). Phot. ~krei/ttones~ (Hesych.\n~krei/ttonas~) ~hoi h\u00ea/r\u00f4es; dokou=si de\\ kak\u00f4tikoi\\ ei=nai; di' ho\\\nkai\\ hoi ta\\ h\u00ear\u00f4=|a pario/ntes si\u00f4p\u00f4=sin. (h\u00ea/r\u00f4es~ and ~h\u00ear\u00f4=|a~\nhere, in accordance with the usage common in later times, simply =\n~teteleut\u00eako/tes~ and ~mn\u00ea/mata~ of the usual kind.) Since a Hero in\nthe higher sense was buried there it was customary to pass in\nsilence the monument, e.g., of Narkissos, ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s Sig\u00ealo/s~: Str.\n404 (so also the grove and chasm of Kolonos where the Erinyes dwell:\nS., _OC._ 130 ff.). The feeling underlying this is easy to\nunderstand, and the custom therefore is widespread: e.g. among West\nAfrican negroes, R\u00e9ville, _Relig. des peuples non civil._ i, 73. It\nis a German superstition (Grimm, p. 1811, n. 830). \"Never call the\ndead by name or you may _cry them up_\".]\n\n[111\\5: Pl., _Phd._ 81 CD. The ~psuch\u00ea/ . . . h\u00f4/sper le/getai peri\\\nta\\ mn\u00ea/mata/ te {202} kai\\ tou\\s ta/phous kulindome/n\u00ea; peri\\ ha\\\nd\u00ea\\ kai\\ _\u00f4/phth\u00ea_ a/tta psuch\u00f4=n skioeid\u00ea= phanta/smata, ktl.~]\n\n[112\\5: See O. Jahn, _Arch\u00e4ol. Beitr._ 128 ff.; Benndorf, _Griech.\nu. sicil. Vasenb._, p. 33 f., p. 65 (on Pl. 14, 32); also Pottier,\n_L\u00e9cythes blancs_, p. 65, 2 (who proposes a doubtful theory of a\nsupposed _\u00c9ros fun\u00e8bre_, p. 76 ff.).]\n\n[113\\5: We frequently on vases see the occupant of a grave\nrepresented in the form of a snake at the foot of his tomb, etc.;\ne.g. on the _Prothesis_ vase, _Monum. d. Instit._ viii, 4, 5, and\noften, see Luckenbach, _Jahrb. f. Phil._, Suppl. ii, 500.--We have\nalready met with snakes as a favourite form of incarnation chosen by\n~chtho/nioi~ of all kinds, deities of the underworld, Heroes, and\nthe ordinary dead, and we shall frequently meet with the same thing\nagain. Here we need only refer to Photius ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s poiki/los--dia\\\nto\\ tou\\s o/pheis poiki/lous o/ntas h\u00ea/r\u00f4as kalei=sthai~.]\n\n[114\\5: What falls to the ground belongs to the ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4es~ ( = souls\nof the dead): Ar. ~H\u00ea/r\u00f4es~ _fr._ 305 H. and G. ~toi=s\nteteleut\u00eako/si t\u00f4=n phi/l\u00f4n ape/nemon ta\\ pi/ptonta t\u00ea=s troph\u00ea=s\napo\\ t\u00f4=n trapez\u00f4=n~ (alluded to by Eur. in the _Belleroph._\n[_Stheneb. fr._ 667 Din.]), ap. Ath. 427 E. This is the origin of\nthe Pythagorean ~su/mbolon~--as usual founded on ancient belief\nabout the soul--~ta\\ peso/nta apo\\ trapez\u00ea=s m\u00ea\\ anairei=sthai~,\nD.L. viii, 34. Suid. ~Puthago/ra ta\\ su/mbola~. This superstition is\nalso the reason for the ~no/mos~ said to have been current in\nKroton, ~to\\ peso\\n epi\\ t\u00ea\\n g\u00ea=n k\u00f4lu/\u00f4n anairei=sthai~, Iamb.,\n_VP._ 126. Similar belief and custom in Rome: Plin. 28, 27. Among\nthe ancient Prussians it was the custom not to pick up the fragments\nof food that fell to the ground at meal times, but to leave them for\nthe \"poor\" souls that have no blood-relations or friends left behind\nin the world to look after them; see Chr. Hartknoch, _Alt u. Neues\nPreussen_, p. 188. Similar customs elsewhere: Spencer, _Princ. of\nSociol._ i, 281.]\n\n[115\\5: Solonian law: D. 20, 104; 40, 49. Plu., _Sol._ 21, ~So/l\u00f4nos\nho k\u00f4lu/\u00f4n no/mos to\\n tethn\u00eako/ta kak\u00f4=s agoreu/ein. kai\\ ga\\r\nho/sion tou\\s methest\u00eako/tas _hierou\\s_ nomi/zein~. This reminds us\nof the words of Arist., _Eudem. fr._ 37 [44] given in Plu., _C.\nApoll._ 27, p. 115 B, ~to\\ pseu/sasthai/ ti kata\\ t\u00f4=n\nteteleuk\u00eako/t\u00f4n kai\\ to\\ blasph\u00eamei=n ouch ho/sion h\u00f4s kata\\\nbeltio/n\u00f4n kai\\ kreitto/n\u00f4n \u00ea/d\u00ea gegono/t\u00f4n~ (Chilon ap. Stob.,\n_Fl._ 125, 15 M.: ~to\\n teteleuk\u00eako/ta m\u00ea\\ kakolo/gei alla\\\nmaka/rize~). A very extreme form of outrage is ~pseu/sasthai kata\\\ntou= teleut\u00ea/santos~: Is. 9, 6; 23; 26. (The ~kakolo/gos~ is\nparticularly liable to ~kaka\\ eipei=n peri\\ t\u00f4=n teteleut\u00eako/t\u00f4n~,\nThphr., _Char._ 28.) The heir of the dead man has the duty of\ncarrying out the cult of the dead man's soul, and this includes the\nlegal prosecution of slanderers of the dead: see Meier and Sch\u00f6mann,\n_Att. Process_^2, p. 630.]\n\n[116\\5: Ar., _Tagenist. fr._ **485, 12, says of the dead, ~kai\\\nthu/ome/n g' autoi=si toi=s enagi/smasin, h\u00f4/sper _theoi=sin_ ktl.~]\n\n[117\\5: ~krei/ttones~ Hesych. Phot. s.v. Arist. ap. Plu., _C.\nApoll._ 27, p. 115 C.]\n\n[118\\5: ~hi/le\u00f4s e/chein (tou\\s teleut\u00ea/santas)~: Pl., _Rp._ 427 B.]\n\n[119\\5: That the ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4es duso/rg\u00eatoi kai\\ chalepoi\\ toi=s\nempela/zousi gi/gnontai~ (Sch. Ar., _Av._ 1490) applies equally to\nthe \"Heroes\" properly so called--see above, chap. iv, \u00a7 11, the\nlegends of the Hero Anagyros, the Hero of Temesa, etc.--and to those\nwho gradually came to be called \"Heroes\" in later times by an\nextension of the term, viz. the souls of the dead in\ngeneral--~chalepou\\s kai\\ pl\u00ea/ktas tou\\s h\u00ea/r\u00f4as nomi/zousi, kai\\\nma=llon nu/kt\u00f4r \u00ea\\ meth' h\u00eame/ran~: Chamaileon ap. Ath. 461 C (and\nhence the precautions taken against nocturnal {203} apparitions:\nAth. 149 C). Cf. Zenob. v, 60. Hesych. Phot. s. ~krei/ttones~.--That\nthe ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4es~ do, and are responsible for, evil _only_ and never\ngood (Sch. Ar., _Av._ 1490; Babr. 63) is a late belief; it does not\napply either to Heroes or ordinary dead in the conceptions of\nearlier ages. Originally the \"gods\", just as much as Heroes and the\ndead, shared in the violent and malignant nature of the unseen. This\nwas later confined more and more to the lower classes of the\n~krei/ttones~ and came to be attached to them so exclusively that it\ncould in the end be regarded as a sufficient ground of distinction\nbetween them and the gods (as it certainly had not been to start\nwith) that malice is excluded from the nature of the gods and\nbenevolence on the contrary from that of Heroes and the dead.]\n\n[120\\5: Ar., _Tagenist. fr._ **485, 13: ~kai\\ choa/s ge cheo/menoi~\n(to the dead) ~aitou/meth' autou\\s ta\\ _kala\\_ deu=r' _anie/nai_~\n(intended as a ~paroimi/a~ or at any rate imitated from a\ntragedian--apostrophe to a dead woman ~ekei= ble/pousa, deu=r'\nani/ei tagatha/~, Sch. Ar., _Ran._ 1462--and reproduced in this\npassage by the interpolator of Aristoph.). This \"sending-up\nblessings from below\" is to be understood in the widest sense (cf.\nA., _Pers._ 222); but it is natural to be reminded by such a prayer\nto ~anie/nai tagatha/~ of Demeter ~an\u00easid\u00f4/ra~ (Paus. 1, 31, 4;\nPlu., _Smp._ 9, 14, 4, p. 745 A), and of ~G\u00ea= an\u00easid\u00f4/ra. dia\\ to\\\n_karpou\\s_ anie/nai~ (Hesych.); S., _OT._ 269, ~eu/chomai theou\\s\nm\u00ea/t' a/roton autoi=s g\u00ea=s anie/nai tina/~.--That the dead who dwell\nbeneath the ground were really expected to assist the growth of the\nsoil we may learn especially from a very interesting statement in\nthe Hippocratic work ~peri\\ enupni/\u00f4n~ (ii, p. 14 K\u00fchn; vi, p. 658\nLittr\u00e9 [~p. diai/t\u00eas~ iv, 92]). If a person in his dream sees\n~apothano/ntas~ dressed in white, offering something, that is a good\nomen: ~apo\\ ga\\r t\u00f4=n apothano/nt\u00f4n hai trophai\\ kai\\ aux\u00easies kai\\\nspe/rmata gi/nontai~. There was a custom at Athens of strewing seeds\nof all kinds over the newly-made grave: Isigon., _Mir._ 67; Cic.,\n_Lg._ ii, 63. The reason for this (evidently religious) is variously\ngiven (another, no more convincing, is suggested by K. O. M\u00fcller,\n_Kl. Schr._ ii, 302 f.). It seems most natural to suppose that the\nseed of the earth is put under the protection of the souls of dead\nwho have now themselves become spirits inhabiting the earth. (Note\nbesides the entirely similar custom in ancient India, Oldenberg,\n_Rel. d. Veda_, 582.)]\n\n[121\\5: Electra in A., _Ch._ 486 ff., makes a vow to the soul of her\nfather: ~kag\u00f4\\ _choa/s_ soi t\u00ea=s em\u00ea=s pagkl\u00eari/as oi/s\u00f4 patr\u00f4/|\u00f4n\nek do/m\u00f4n _gam\u00eali/ous_; pa/nt\u00f4n de\\ pr\u00f4=ton to/nde presbeu/s\u00f4\nta/phon~.--As chthonic powers the Erinyes also send blessings on\nagriculture and the bringing-up of children. _Rh. Mus._ 50, 21.\nPrayer was also made to ~G\u00ea=~ by those who desired to have\nchildren.]\n\n[122\\5: ~Phano/d\u00eamo/s ph\u00easin ho/ti mo/noi Ath\u00eanai=oi thu/ousin kai\\\neu/chontai autoi=s hupe\\r gene/se\u00f4s pai/d\u00f4n, ho/tan gamei=n\nme/ll\u00f4sin~, Phot. Suid. ~tritopa/tores~.]\n\n[123\\5: The form of the word itself shows that the ~tritopa/tores~\nare simply ~pro/pappoi~. ~tritopa/t\u00f4r~ is the earliest ancestor, ~ho\npa/ppou \u00ea\\ t\u00ea/th\u00eas pat\u00ea/r~ (Arist. ap. Poll. 3, 17). Just as\n~m\u00eatropa/t\u00f4r~ is ~ho m\u00eatro\\s pat\u00ea/r~ and ~patropa/t\u00f4r ho patro\\s\npat\u00ea/r~ (Poll. 3, 16), ~propat\u00f4/r~ the forefather, ~pseudopa/t\u00f4r =\npseud\u00ea\\s pat\u00ea/r, epipa/t\u00f4r~ the stepfather (~m\u00eatrom\u00ea/t\u00ear = m\u00eatro\\s\nm\u00ea/t\u00ear~)--in the same way ~tritopa/t\u00f4r~ is the third forefather, the\nfather of the ~patropa/t\u00f4r~, i.e. the ~pro/pappos~. The\n~tritopa/tores~ have an alternative form ~tritopa/trei=s~, Philoch.\nap. Suidas ~tritopa/tores~: _SIG._ 443; _Leg. Sacr._ i, p. 49, l.\n32, 52: in Orphic _verse_ this form alone, and not ~tritopa/tores~,\ncould be used: see Lobeck, _Agl._ 764. They were in fact the\n~tri/toi pate/res~ (just as {204} the ~trite/ggonoi~ are the\n~tri/toi e/ggonoi~, the ~e/ggonoi~ of the third generation). But the\n\"third forefathers\" are in fact the first ancestors (Lobeck, 763\nf.), ~hoi propa/tores~ (Hesych.), ~hoi pr\u00f4=toi _arch\u00eage/tai_~ (_AB._\n307, 16)--the ancestors of the individual first of all, his bodily\n~gonei=s~ (the series of whom was not generally counted beyond the\n~pro/pappos~--Is. 8, 32--i.e. the ~tritopa/t\u00f4r~), and then the\n\"ancestors\" of the human race in general (acc. to the explanation of\nPhiloch. ap. Phot. Suid. ~tritop.~; cf. Welcker, _G\u00f6tterl._ iii,\n73).--We cannot do more than refer here to the completely analogous\nideas of the ancient Indians about the \"three-fathers\": the father,\ngrandfather, great-grandfather, as the Sapinda-fathers beyond whom\nthe line of ancestry was not traced (Kaegi, _Neunzahl_, pp. 5, 6).]\n\n[124\\5: The Tritopatores are most distinctly referred to as\n~a/nemoi~: Demon ap. Phot. Suid. ~tritop.~ cf. ~despo/tai ane/m\u00f4n~\nPhot. ~tritopa/t\u00f4r~; Tz. Lyc. 738. Orphic poetry made them\n~thur\u00f4rou\\s kai\\ phu/lakas t\u00f4=n ane/m\u00f4n~. This is already a free\ninterpretation; the Attic belief, expressed by Demon, knows nothing\nabout this. It can only have been learned invention that limited\ntheir number to three (as in the case of the originally unlimited\nnumber of Horai, Erinyes, etc.), and gave them definite names\n(Amalkeides, etc., Orph. _fr._ 240, Ab.) or identified them with the\nthree Hekatoncheires (Kleidemos in the ~Ex\u00eag.~). The genuine and\nancient belief about them can still be discerned through all the\nconfusion of misinterpretation and misunderstanding, and according\nto this the ~tritopa/tores~ were the souls of ancestors who were\nalso wind-spirits. People prayed for children to these spirits: and\nLobeck, _Agl._ 755 ff., is right in connecting with this custom the\nOrphic doctrine that the soul of man comes into him from without\nwith the wind. Even this, however, is only a speculative\nembellishment of the popular belief about the Tritopatores (which\nthe Orphics cannot, as Welcker thinks, _G\u00f6tterl._ iii, 71, have\n\"invented\": they only explained it after their fashion and\nconsequently must have found it already existing). When we have\nstripped off all speculative accretions we find the Tritopatores to\nhave been the souls of ancestors who have become wind-spirits and\ntravel in the wind like other ~psuchai/~ (whose name even is derived\nfrom the breath of the wind). From these as from real ~pnoiai\\\nz\u00f4|ogo/noi~ their descendants hope for aid where the entry into life\nof a new ~psuch\u00ea/~ is concerned. It is not hard to understand the\nconnexion between souls and wind-spirits; it is merely that such\nconceptions were rare among the Greeks and for that reason these\nisolated wind-spirits surviving in popular belief were turned into\nindividual daimones--the Tritopatores no less than the Harpies (see\n_Rh. Mus._ 50, 3 ff.).]\n\n[125\\5: The words of Orestes in A., _Ch._ 483, give very naive\nexpression to the belief. He calls to the soul of his father:\n~hou/t\u00f4~ (if thou sendest me aid) ~ga\\r a/n soi dai=tes e/nnomoi\nbrot\u00f4=n ktizoi/at'; ei de\\ m\u00ea/, par' eudei/pnois e/sei a/timos\nempu/roisi knis\u00f4toi=s chthono/s~. Thus we see that the belief\nridiculed by Luc., _Luct._ 9, was true of earlier times as well:\n~tre/phontai de\\ a/ra~ (the dead) ~tai=s par' h\u00eami=n choai=s kai\\\ntoi=s kathagizome/nois epi\\ t\u00f4=n ta/ph\u00f4n; h\u00f4s ei/ t\u00f4| m\u00ea\\ ei/\u00ea\nkataleleimme/nos hupe\\r g\u00ea=s phi/los \u00ea\\ suggen\u00ea/s, a/sitos hou=tos\nnekro\\s kai\\ lim\u00f4/tt\u00f4n en autoi=s politeu/etai~.]\n\n[126\\5: Epicurus devotes by will certain definite ~pro/sodoi~ to the\nyearly offering of ~enagi/smata~ to his parents, his brothers, and\nhimself: D.L. x, 18.--To the end of the third century belongs the\n\"Testament of Epikteta\", i.e. the inscription recording the\nfoundation by Epikteta (who came from Thera as we know now for\ncertain: ~Eph. Arch.~ 1894, p. 142) of a three-day sacrificial feast\nto be performed every year for {205} the Muses and \"the Heroes\",\ni.e. for her husband, herself, and her sons; and the institution for\nthis special purpose of a ~koino\\n tou= andrei/ou t\u00f4=n suggen\u00f4=n~\n(together with women of the family). The inscr. gives also the rules\nof this sacrificial society (Michel n. 1001; _CIG._ 2448).--The\nofferings to the dead in this case (vi, 6 ff.) consist of a\n~hierei=on~ (i.e. a sheep) and ~hiera/~, especially ~ellu/tai~ of\nfive choinikes of wheaten flour and a stater of dry cheese (~ell.~\nare a kind of sacrificial cake specially offered to the deities of\nthe lower world, as for ex. to Trophonios at Lebadeia: _GDI._ 413\nwith n., p. 393), and in addition to these garlands are mentioned.\nThe following are to be sacrificed: the customary parts of the\nvictim, an ~ellu/t\u00eas~, a loaf, a ~pa/rax (= ba/rax, b\u00ea/r\u00eax~:\ninterchange of tenuis and media as frequently) and some ~opsa/ria~\n(i.e. small fishes: cf. the ~apopuri/s~ for the dead, _GDI._ 3634\nKos). The rest was probably consumed by the religious society: these\nspecial portions the person offering the sacrifice, we are told,\n~_karp\u00f4sei=_~, i.e. (he shall offer them to the Heroes by burning\nthem entire. Cf. Phot. ~kausto/n; _karp\u00f4to/n_, ho\\ enagi/zetai toi=s\nteteleut\u00eako/sin (karp\u00f4=sai, ka/rp\u00f4ma, holoka/rp\u00f4sis~, etc., are\nfrequent in the LXX) and Phot. ~holokarpou/menon~ and\n~holokautismo/s. karpou=n = holokautou=n~ in the sacrificial\ncalendar from Kos, _GDI._ 3636; cf. Stengel, _Hermes_, 27, 161 f.]\n\n[127\\5: See Is. 1, 10.]\n\n[128\\5: In manumission records it is sometimes definitely enjoined\nthat the freed persons shall at the death of their masters\n~thapsa/nt\u00f4 kai\\ ta\\ _h\u00f4/ria_ aut\u00f4=n poi\u00easa/t\u00f4san~: thus on the\ninsc. from Phokis, _SIG._ 841. (Instructions of this kind as esp.\nfrequent in the records of emancipation from Delphi: see\nB\u00fcchsensch\u00fctz, _Bes. u. Erw._, 178 Anm. 3-4.) ~ta\\ _h\u00f4/ria_~ when\napplied to the dead (_GDI._ 1545-6; ~h\u00f4rai/\u00f4n tuchei=n~ E., _Sup._\n175) means the ~kath' h\u00f4/ran suntelou/mena hiera/~ (Hesych.\n~h\u00f4rai=a~; funeral ordinance of the Labyadai, l. 49 ff.: ~ta\\s d'\na/llas thoi/nas kat' ta\\n h\u00f4/ran agage/sthai~), i.e. the sacrifices\nto be celebrated periodically (~tai=s hiknoume/nais h\u00eame/rais~, n.\n138; cf. ~teletai\\ h\u00f4/riai~, Pi., _P._ ix, 98 ff.). This doubtless\nmeans in particular the ~eniau/sia hiera/~ (cf. nn. 81, 89, 92 of\nthis chap.). Garlanding of graves ~kat' eniauto\\n tai=s h\u00f4ri/ois~\n(sc. ~hame/rais~), _GDI._ 1775, 21; ~kat' eniauto\\n h\u00f4rai=a hiera\\\napete/loun~ (to the Heroes), Pl., _Cri._ 116 C.]\n\n[129\\5: The foll. are the expressions occurring in the speeches of\nIsaeus which conclusively warrant what is said above. The childless\nMenekles ~esko/pei ho/p\u00f4s m\u00ea\\ e/soito a/pais, all' e/soito aut\u00f4=|\nho/stis z\u00f4=nta g\u00earotroph\u00ea/soi kai\\ teleut\u00ea/santa tha/psoi auto\\n\nkai\\ eis to\\n e/peita chro/non ta\\ nomizo/mena aut\u00f4=| poi\u00ea/soi~, 2,\n10. To be cared for in old age, buried after death, and to have\npermanent attention paid to one's soul is a single unified\nconception, in which ritual burial at the hands of one's own\n~e/kgonoi~ (thus securing the cult of the family) does not form the\nleast important part (cf. Pl., _Hipp. ma._ 291 DE: it is\n~ka/lliston~ for a man--according to the popular view--~aphikome/n\u00f4|\nes g\u00ea=ras tou\\s hautou= gone/as teleut\u00ea/santas kal\u00f4=s peristei/lanti\nhupo\\ t\u00f4=n hautou= ekgo/n\u00f4n kal\u00f4=s kai\\ megaloprep\u00f4=s taph\u00ea=nai~.\nMedea says to her children in E., _Med._ 1032 ~ei=chon elpi/das\npolla\\s en humi=n g\u00earobosk\u00ea/sein t' eme\\ kai\\ katthanou=san chersi\\n\neu= peristelei=n, z\u00eal\u00f4to\\n anthr\u00f4/poisin~). That he may share in\nthis attention to the souls of the dead a man must leave behind him\na son; upon a son alone this will fall as a sacred duty. Hence a man\nwho has no son takes the chosen heir of his possessions into his own\n_family_ by adoption. Inheritance and adoption invariably accompany\neach other in such cases (and even in the first speech, where,\nthough nothing is actually said of adoption, it is certainly implied\nthroughout). The {206} _motive_ of adoption is said in the clearest\npossible terms to be the desire on the part of the adopter for a\npermanent care of his own soul at the hands of his adopted son: 2,\n25, 46; 6, 51, 65; 7, 30; 9, 7, 36. There is consequently a close\nconnexion between ~ei=nai kl\u00earono/mon kai\\ epi\\ ta\\ mn\u00ea/mata\nie/nai, cheo/menoi kai\\ enagiou=nta~ (6, 51). It is a mark of the\nheir ~ta\\ nomizo/mena poiei=n, enagi/zein, chei=sthai~ (6, 65); cf.\nalso D. 43, 65. Duties towards the soul of the dead consist in the\nson and heir's provision for a solemn funeral, the erection of a\nhandsome grave-monument and in his offering of the ~tri/ta~ and\n~e/nata kai\\ ta=lla ta\\ peri\\ t\u00ea\\n taph\u00ea/n~: 2, 36, 37; 4, 19; 9, 4.\nAfter that he is responsible for the regular continuation of the\ncult and of sacrifice to the dead, ~enagi/zesthai kath' he/kaston\n_eniauto/n_~ (2, 46), and generally, ~kai\\ eis to\\n _e/peita_\nchro/non ta\\ nomizo/mena poiei=n~ (2, 10). Then, just as he has to\ncarry on for the dead man his family worships, his ~hiera\\ patr\u00f4=|a~\n(2, 46: e.g. for Zeus Ktesios: 8, 16); so also he must, as the dead\nman once did, make regular offering to the ~_pro/gonoi_~ of the\nhouse: 9, 7. In this way the family cult secures its own\ncontinuity.--Everything in this reminds us in the strongest way of\nwhat is done for the continuation of the cult of the dead, esp. by\nadoption, in the country where ancestor-worship reaches its greatest\nheight--China. Desire to perpetuate the _family_ name, the strongest\nmotive with us in the adoption of male children, could not be so\nstrong in Greece when only individual names were usual. Even this,\nhowever, occurs as a motive for the adoption of a son, ~hi/na m\u00ea\\\nan\u00f4/numos ho oi=kos autou= ge/n\u00eatai~, 2, 36, 46; cf. Isocr. 19, 35\n(and Philodem., _Mort._, p. 28, 9 ff. Mekl.). The \"house\" at any\nrate is called after its ancestors (like those ~Bouseli/dai~ of whom\nDem. speaks), and if the house has no male heir this common name\nwill disappear. Apart from this, the adopted person will call\nhimself the son of his adoptive father, and will ensure the\npreservation of the latter's name, in the well-known fashion, by\ngiving this name to the eldest (Dem. 39, 27) of his own sons. (A\nsimilar perpetuation of a name is probably intended in E., _IT._\n695-8.)]\n\n[130\\5: Appealing to ~ph\u00ea=mai, pollai\\ kai\\ spho/dra palaiai/~,\nPlato asserts, _Lg._ 927 A, ~h\u00f4s a/ra hai t\u00f4=n teleut\u00easa/nt\u00f4n\npsuchai\\ _du/namin_ e/chousi/ tina teleut\u00ea/sasai, h\u00ea=| t\u00f4=n kat'\nanthr\u00f4/pous pragma/t\u00f4n epimelou=ntai~. Hence the ~epi/tropoi~ of\norphaned children ~pr\u00f4=ton me\\n tou\\s a/n\u00f4 theou\\s phobei/sth\u00f4n . .\n. ei=ta ta\\s t\u00f4=n kekm\u00eako/t\u00f4n psucha/s, hai=s estin en t\u00ea=| phu/sei\n_t\u00f4=n haut\u00f4=n ekgo/n\u00f4n k\u00ea/desthai diaphero/nt\u00f4s_, kai\\ tim\u00f4=si/ te\nautou\\s eumenei=s kai\\ atima/zousi dusmenei=s~. It is only the\ncircle of influence belonging to the ~psuchai/~ which is here\nlimited (and the circle of worship in consequence, not the potency\nof that influence.]\n\n[131\\5: This is true at least of the Greeks, as ancient philosophy\nwas already aware: Arist., _Pol._ i, 2; Dicaearchus ap. St. Byz.\n~pa/tra~ (who apparently thinks of the ~pa/tra~ as held together by\n\"endogamous\" marriage). The whole development of Greek law and\npolitics--this much at least may be conceded to the analysis of\nFustel de Coulanges (_La Cit\u00e9 antique_)--points to the conclusion\nthat the division into the smallest groups goes back to the\nbeginning of Greek life. The Greeks were even then divided into\nfamilies and groups of kinsfolk, from the combination of which the\nlater Greek state grew up; they never (as happened elsewhere) lived\nthe community life of the tribe or the horde. And yet, can we\nimagine the Greek gods without the tribal community that worshipped\nthem?]\n\n[132\\5: The idea of the _Lar familiaris_ can be translated into\nGreek not inadequately by the words ~ho kat' oiki/an h\u00ea/r\u00f4s, h\u00ea/r\u00f4s\noikouro/s~, as is done by Dionys. Hal., and Plutarch in their\naccounts of the story {207} of Ocrisia (D.H. 4, 2, 3; Plu. _Fort.\nRom._ 9, p. 323 C). But this was not an idea current among the\nGreeks. The Latin _genius generis_ = _Lar familiaris_ (Laber. 54\nRib.) is most nearly approached by the remarkable expression ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s\nsuggenei/as~, _CIA._ iii, 1460. Inside the house, at the family\nhearth (in whose ~muchoi/~, \"dwells\" Hekate: E., _Med._ 397), the\nGreeks worshipped--no longer the spirits of the ancestors--but the\n~theoi\\ patr\u00f4=|oi, kt\u00ea/sioi, mu/chioi, herkei=oi~. These were\ncompared with the Roman Penates (D.H. 1, 67, 3; cf. Hyg. ap. Macr.\n3, 4, 13), but their relationship to the spirits of the house and of\nthe family is considerably less apparent than in the case of the\nPenates. (It is simply imitation of Roman custom that makes the\ndying Peregrinus call upon the ~dai/mones patr\u00f4=|oi kai\\ m\u00eatr\u00f4=|oi~:\nLuc., _Peregr._ 36. ~Ste/phanos toi=s tou= patro\\s hautou=\ndai/mosin~, ins. from Lykia, _CIG._ 4232 = _BCH._ xv, 552, n. 26.\n~toi=s dai/mosi t\u00ea=s apothanou/s\u00eas gunaiko/s~, Philo, _Leg. ad G._\n65, ii, p. 555 M. More in Lob., _Agl._ 769 n.)]\n\n[133\\5: The ~_agatho\\s dai/m\u00f4n_~ of which Attic writers in\nparticular often speak has very indefinite features. Those who used\nthe word combined ideas--no longer fully intelligible--of a divine\nbeing of fairly definite nature and shape with this name which in\nitself was altogether too liable to generalization. Modern writers\nhave declared that it was originally a daimon of the fertility of\ncrops. But there is just as little ground for believing this as\nthere is for identifying it with Dionysos, as was done by the\nphysician Philonides in connexion with an absurd story which he has\ninvented on his own account (Ath. 675 B). There is much, however,\nthat points to the connexion of the ~agatho\\s dai/m\u00f4n~ with chthonic\npowers. He appears as a snake (Gerhard, _Akad. Abh._ ii, 24) like\nall ~chtho/nioi~. (On a snake on a talisman the words are written\n~to\\ o/noma tou= agathou= dai/monos~: _P. Mag. Par._ 2427 ff.)\n~agathodai/mones~ was the name given to a special kind of\nnon-poisonous snake (described after Archigenes, in the Vatican\niologus brought to light by myself: _Rh. Mus._ 38, 278; cf. Photius,\n~parei=ai o/pheis~, and again esp. s.v. ~o/pheis parei/as~, 364, 1).\nSacrifice was made to them in Alexandria on the 25th Tybi as ~toi=s\nagathoi=s dai/mosi toi=s _pronooume/nois t\u00f4=n **oiki\u00f4=n_~: [Callisth.]\ni, 32 (cod. A, or as \"penates dei\" as the words are translated by\nJul. Valer., p. 38, 29 ff. (Kuebl.). In this instance the ~ag. d.~\nis evidently a good spirit who protects the house. Only with this in\nmind can we understand how anyone could consecrate his house\n~agath\u00f4=| dai/moni~, as Timoleon did at Syracuse (~_agath\u00f4=|\ndai/moni~_, Plu., _Ips. Laud._, 11, p. 542 E; ~t\u00ea\\n oiki/an\n_hier\u00f4=|_ dai/moni kathie/r\u00f4sen~, Plu., _Timol._ 36, where ~hier\u00f4=|~\nis evidently an ancient copyist's error). Cf. also the saying of\nXeniades, D.L. vi, 74. Such guardian spirits of the house are of\ncourse familiar enough in our own popular superstition, but in their\ncase \"the transition from souls of the dead to kindly house-spirits\nor kobolds is still demonstrable\" (Grimm, p. 913). At the household\nmeal the first few drops of unmixed wine belong by right to the\n~agatho\\s dai/m\u00f4n~ (Hug, _Plat. Symp._^2, p. 23); then follows the\nlibation to Zeus Soter. But sometimes it was the \"Heroes\" and not\nthe ~ag. d.~ who preceded Zeus Soter (Sch. Pi., _I_ v, 10; Gerhard,\np. 39): they have taken the place of the ~ag. d.~, which itself\nreveals the connexion between the ~ag. d.~ and these \"souls\".\nAnother fact pointing in the same direction is the worship of the\n~agatho\\s dai/m\u00f4n~ in common with many other deities of chthonic\nnature in the temple of Trophonios at Lebadeia (Paus. 9, 39, 5). In\nthis case it is mentioned by the side of Tyche and these two are\nsometimes met with together in grave-inscriptions (e.g. _CIG._ 2465\nf.) and Tyche herself appears with such chthonic deities as\nDespoina, Plouton, and Persephone (_CIG._ {208} 1464 Sparta). In\nepitaphic inscriptions ~daimo/n\u00f4n agath\u00f4=n~ sometimes occurs as\ncompletely equivalent to _Dis Manibus_: e.g. ~Daimo/n\u00f4n agath\u00f4=n\nPoti/ou~, _CIG._ 2700 b.c. (Mylasa); ~daimo/n\u00f4n agath\u00f4=n Arte/m\u00f4nos\nkai\\ Ti/tou~, _Ath. Mitt._ '90, p. 110 (Mylasa); cf. the inscr. from\nMylasa in _Ath. Mitt._ '90, pp. 276-7 (nn. 23-5, 27). The singular\nis rare: ~Dai/monos agathou= Ariste/ou ktl.~ _BCH._ '90, p. 626\n(Karia). (~dai/mosin heautou= te kai\\ Laititi/as t\u00ea=s gunaiko\\s\nautou=~ = Dis Manibus suis et Laetitiae uxoris in the bilingual ins.\nfrom Beroea, _CIG._ 4452: cf. 4232 and 5827.) All these have come\nunder Roman influence, but it is worth noticing, all the same, that\nthe ~agatho\\s d.~ was identified with the _Di Manes_; which means\nthat it was regarded as a daimon that had once been a disembodied\nhuman soul.--The subject might be dealt with more fully than would\nbe in place here.]\n\n[134\\5: In Boeotia (and elsewhere, particularly in Thessaly) the\ndesignation of the dead as ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~--always an indication of a\nhigher conception of its spirit nature--is especially frequent on\ntombstones. More will be found on this subject below. The\ninscriptions are for the most part of late date. But even in the\nfifth century (at all events at the beginning of the fourth) the\ncustom of \"heroizing\" the ordinary dead was current. To this Plato\nCom. (i, p. 622 K.) alludes in the \"Menelaos\", ~ti/ ouk ap\u00ea/gx\u00f4,\nhi/na Th\u00ea/b\u00easin h\u00ea/r\u00f4s ge/n\u00ea|~; (Zenob. vi, 17, etc. The\nParoemiogrr. connect this with the Theban custom of refusing the\nhonours of the dead to those who committed suicide. This is\ncertainly wrong and contradicts Pl.'s intention. Keil shows this\nclearly, _Syll. Insc. Boeot._, p. 153).]\n\n[135\\5: Among the Epizephyrian Locrians ~odu/resthai ouk e/stin epi\\\ntoi=s teleut\u00ea/sasin, all' epeida\\n ekkomi/s\u00f4sin, eu\u00f4chou=ntai~,\nHeraclid., _Pol._ 30, 2. In Keos the men never wear any sign of\nmourning, though women mourn for a year for a son who dies young;\nib. 9, 4 (see Welcker, _Kl. Schr._ ii, 502). The funeral regulation\nof Iulis (_SIG._ 877) published in imitation of Athenian usage\nimplies rather a tendency to exaggerated display of mourning, at\nleast among the common people.]\n\n[136\\5: e.g. Is. 2, 47: ~bo\u00eath\u00ea/sate kai\\ h\u00eami=n kai\\ ekei/n\u00f4| _t\u00f4=|\nen Ha/idou o/nti_~. Strictly speaking no one can ~bo\u00eathei=n~ the\ndeparted in Hades. Few nations have entirely escaped such\ncontradictions between a cult of the dead in the house or at a grave\nand the conception of the relegation of the soul to an inaccessible\nother world. They arise from two simultaneously existing mental\nattitudes (representing also different stages of culture) towards\nthese obscure subjects. The naive theology of the common people\nreconciles such discrepancies by attributing two souls to men, one\nof which goes down to Hades while the other remains beside the\nstill-animated body and receives the offerings of the family: e.g.\nNorth American Indians: M\u00fcller, _Ges. d. Amer. Urrel._ 66; cf.\nTylor, i, 434. These two souls are in reality the creation of two\nmutually incompatible modes of thought.]\n\n[137\\5:--idne testamento cavebit is qui nobis quasi oraculum\nediderit nihil post mortem ad nos pertinere? Cic., _Fin._ ii,\n102.--Besides Epic., Theophrastos seems to have made some\narrangement for the regular celebration of his memory (by the\nassociates of the Peripatos?). Harp. 139, 4 ff.: ~m\u00ea/pote de\\\nhu/steron neno/mistai to\\ epi\\ tim\u00ea=| tinas t\u00f4=n _apothano/nt\u00f4n_\nsunie/nai kai\\ _orge\u00f4=nas_ homoi/\u00f4s \u00f4noma/sthai; h\u00f4s e/sti sunidei=n\nek t\u00f4=n Theophra/stou diath\u00eak\u00f4=n~. The will of Thphr. preserved by\nD.L. 5, 2, 14, is silent on the point.] {209}\n\nIII\n\n[138\\5: Oracle ap. D. 43, 66 (cf. 67) ~toi=s apophthime/nois en\nhiknoume/na| hame/ra| (en tai=s kath\u00eakou/sais h\u00eame/rais, \u00a7 67)\ntelei=n tou\\s kath\u00ea/kontas katta\\ hag\u00eame/na.--ta\\ hag\u00eame/na = ta\\\nnomizo/mena~ \"the customary things\" (Buttmann, _Ausf. Gramm._, \u00a7 113\nn. 7, 1, p. 84 Lob.).]\n\n[139\\5: Inquiry, at sacrifices to the dead, of an ~ex\u00eag\u00eat\u00ea/s~: Is.\n8, 39; of the ~ex\u00eag\u00eatai/~ (who give detailed instructions and\nadvice: [D.] 47, 68 ff. Harp. ~ex\u00eag\u00eat\u00ea/s; e/sti de\\ kai\\ ha\\~ (perh.\n~ho/te ta\\~) ~pro\\s tou\\s katoichome/nous nomizo/mena ex\u00eagou=nto\ntoi=s deome/nois~. Tim. Lex. ~ex\u00eag\u00eatai/; trei=s gi/nontai\nputho/chr\u00eastoi~ (there is no need to understand this other than\nliterally, i.e. that the college of the ~putho/chr. ex\u00eag.~ consisted\nof three members: Sch\u00f6ll, _Hermes_, 22, 564), ~hoi=s me/lei\nkathai/rein tou\\s a/gei tini\\ enisch\u00eathe/ntas~. The purification of\nthe ~enagei=s~ is closely connected with the cult of the souls. It\nis true that prescriptions for such purification were to be found\nalso ~en toi=s t\u00f4=n Eupatrid\u00f4=n~ (so M\u00fcller, _Aesch. Eum._ 163 A. 20\n[152 n. E.T.]) ~patri/ois~: Ath. 9, 410 A, and it may be that the\ncollege of the ~ex Eupatrid\u00f4=n ex\u00eag\u00eatai/~ may have also given\ndecisions in such cases. Still, that does not prevent the statement\nof Timaeus in regard to the ~ex\u00eag. putho/chr.~ from being true.\n(Expiations belong principally if not exclusively to the Apolline\ncult.)]\n\n[140\\5: Plu., _Ser. Num._ 17, p. 650 C.D. expressly appeals for\nconfirmation of the belief in a continued existence of the soul\nafter the death of the body to utterances of the Delphic god:\n~a/chri tou= polla\\ toiau=ta prothespi/zesthai, ouch ho/sio/n esti\nt\u00ea=s psuch\u00ea=s katagn\u00f4=nai tha/naton~.]\n\n[141\\5: That already in Homer the circle of the ~agchistei=s~ (in\nthe Athenian legal sense) was called upon to prosecute the blood-feud\nis certainly probable in itself; it cannot, however, be proved from\nexamples occurring in Homer. Leist's statements in _Graecoital.\nRechtsges._, p. 42, are not quite exact. The facts are: a father is\ncalled upon to avenge his son, and a son his father, and a brother\nto avenge his brother (~g~ 307; ~I~ 632 f.; ~\u00f4~ 434); once the\navengers are the ~kasi/gn\u00eatoi/ te e/tai te~ of the murdered man, ~o~\n273. ~e/tai~ has a very wide sense and is not even confined to\nkinship; at any rate it is not simply \"cousins\" (~e/tai kai\\\nanepsioi/~ side by side. ~I~ 464).--In Attic law, too, in certain\ncases the duty of prosecuting the murderer extended beyond the\nlimits of the ~anepsiadoi=~ to more distant relatives and even to\nthe ~phra/tores~ of the murdered man (Law ap. D. 43, 57).]\n\n[142\\5: Flight, indeed ~aeiphugi/a~, on account of ~pho/nos\nakou/sios~: ~Ps~ 85 ff. (The fugitive becomes the ~thera/p\u00f4n~ of the\nperson who receives him into his house in the foreign land: l. 90;\ncf. ~O~ 431 f.; this must have been the rule.)--Flight on account of\n~pho/nos hekou/sious (loch\u00easa/menos~ 268) ~n~ 259 ff. And so\nfrequently.]\n\n[143\\5: ~I~ 632 ff. ~kai\\ me/n ti/s te kasign\u00ea/toio phon\u00ea=os\n**poin\u00ea\\n \u00ea\\ hou= paido\\s hede/xato tethn\u00ea\u00f4=tos; kai/ rh' ho me\\n en\nd\u00ea/m\u00f4| me/nei autou= po/ll' apoti/sas tou= de/ t' er\u00eatu/etai kradi/\u00ea\nkai\\ thumo\\s ag\u00ea/n\u00f4r poin\u00ea\\n dexame/nou~. Here it is very plainly\nrepresented that all that is required is to appease \"the heart and\nspirit\" of the receiver of the ~poin\u00ea/~: the murdered man is not\nconsidered.]\n\n[144\\5: It is very natural to suppose that the ~poin\u00ea/~ (as K. O.\nM\u00fcller suggests in _Aesch. Eum._ 145 [122 E T.]) may have arisen out\nof the substitution of a vicarious sacrifice instead of that of the\nmurderer himself, who should strictly have been offered to the dead\nman. In this way primitive human sacrifice has in many cases been\nreplaced by sacrifice of animals. In that case the ~poin\u00ea/~ too must\nhave originally been offered to the murdered man: in Homeric times\n{210} only the satisfaction of the living avenger was thought\nof.--In any case it is a mistake to look upon the permission to buy\noff the blood-feud as a mitigation of primitive severity in the\ntaking of vengeance due to the intervention of the State. The State\nin this case mitigated nothing since it took no interest at all (in\nHomer) in the treatment of murder cases. Of course, legal\nproceedings can be taken to decide whether a stipulated ~poin\u00ea/~ has\nbeen paid or not (~S~ 497 ff.), as in the case of any other\n~sumbo/laion~. But the prosecution of the murderer in all its\ndepartments is left entirely in the hands of the family of the\nmurdered man.]\n\n[145\\5: We have very few details on this point. In Sparta ~hoi\nge/rontes (dika/zousi) ta\\s phonika\\s (di/kas)~, Arist., _Pol._ 3, 1,\np. 1275b 10 (and in Corinth, too, D.S. 16, 65, 6 ff.). Involuntary\nhomicide is punished by exile and (in this being more severe than at\nAthens) perpetual exile as it appears. The Spartiate Drakontios\nserving in the army of the Ten Thousand ~e/phuge _pai=s_ \u00f4\\n\noi/kothen pai=da a/k\u00f4n **katakan\u00f4\\n~ (like Patroklos in fact, ~Ps~\n87), ~xu\u00ea/l\u00ea| pata/xas~, Xen., _An._ 4, 8, 25. If his banishment had\nbeen only temporary the period must have expired long before.--In\nKyme there are vestiges of _legal_ prosecution of murder (with\nwitnesses): Arist., _Pol._ 1269a, 1 ff.--In Chalkis ~epi\\ Thra/k\u00ea|~\nthe laws of Androdamas of Rhegion were in force ~peri/ te ta\\\n_phonika\\_ kai\\ ta\\s epikl\u00ea/rous~, Arist., _Pol._ 2, 8, p. 1274b 23\nff.--In Lokri were used the laws of Zaleukos in combination with\nCretan, Spartan and Areopagite institutions; these last undoubtedly\ndealing with homicide, which must therefore have been regulated\nconstitutionally. (Str. vi, 260, following Eph.)]\n\n[146\\5: The limits of those qualified to inherit extends in Athenian\nlaw ~me/chri **anepsiad\u00f4=n pai/d\u00f4n~ (Law ap. D. 43, 51; cf. \u00a7 27) as\ndid the duty of avenging murder ~mechri\\ anepsiad\u00f4=n~: D. 47, 72\n(~ento\\s anepsio/t\u00eatos~, which must mean the same thing, Law ap. D.\n43, 57). The circle of persons thus united in the right of\ninheritance and the duty of taking vengeance for murder constituted\nthe ~_agchistei/a_~, the body of kinsfolk tracing their descent (in\nthe male line only) from the same man, the father, grandfather, or\ngreat-grandfather of them all. This is the limit to which the\n~gonei=s~ are traced: Is. 8, 32; cf. above, note 123. Many nations\nof the earth are familiar with a similar limitation of the narrower\nbody of kinsfolk composing a \"house\": as to the underlying reasons\nfor the practice many conjectures are made by H. E. Seebohm, _On the\nStructure of Greek Tribal Society_ (1895).]\n\n[147\\5: As to the restless wandering of the ~biaiotha/natoi~ more\ndetails will be given below [Append. vii]. In the meantime it will\nbe enough to refer to A., _Eum._ 98, where the still unavenged soul\nof the murdered Klytaimnestra complains ~aischr\u00f4=s _al\u00f4=mai_~. A\nlater authority uses words that correspond well with ancient belief:\nPorph., _Abst._ ii, 47, ~t\u00f4=n anthr\u00f4/p\u00f4n hai t\u00f4=n bi/a|\napothano/nt\u00f4n (psuchai\\) kate/chontai pro\\s t\u00f4=| s\u00f4/mati~, like the\nsouls of the ~a/taphoi~.]\n\n[148\\5: In Homeric times the injured dead becomes a ~_the\u00f4=n_\nm\u00ea/nima~ to the evil-doer (~Ch~ 358, ~l~ 73). Later times believed\nthat the soul of the dead man himself angrily pursued the murderer\nwith its terrors till it drove him beyond its own boundaries: ~ho\nthanat\u00f4thei\\s thumou=tai t\u00f4=| dra/santi ktl.~, Pl., _Lg._ 865 DE,\nappealing to ~palaio/n tina t\u00f4=n archai/\u00f4n mu/th\u00f4n lego/menon~; cf.\nX., _Cyr._ 8, 7, 18: A., _Cho._ 39 ff., 323 ff. If the next-of-kin\nwhose duty it is to avenge the death of his relative shirks the duty\nincumbent on him the anger of the dead man is turned upon the\nlatter: Pl., _Leg._ 9, 866 B--~tou= patho/ntos prostrepome/nou t\u00ea\\n\npa/th\u00ean~. The indignant soul becomes _~prostro/paios~_.\n~prostro/paios~ probably {211} applies only in a derivative sense to\na ~dai/m\u00f4n~ who takes the part of the dead man (esp. ~Zeu\\s\nprostro/paios~); it is strictly speaking an epithet of the soul\nitself in its longing for vengeance. Thus in Antiphon _Tetral._ 1,\n~g~ 10, ~h\u00eami=n me\\n prostro/paios ho apothan\u00f4\\n ouk e/stai~. 3, ~d~\n10, ~ho apoktei/nas~ (or rather ~ho tethn\u00eak\u00f4\\s~) ~toi=s aiti/ois\nprostro/paios e/stai~. So, too, A., _Cho._ 287, ~ek prostropai/\u00f4n en\nge/nei pept\u00f4ko/t\u00f4n~. _EM._ 42, 7, ~\u00carigo/n\u00ean, anart\u00ea/sasan heaut\u00ea/n,\nprostro/paion toi=s Ath\u00eanai/ois gene/sthai~. We can, however, see\nparticularly well from this case how easily the change came about\nfrom a soul in a special condition to a similar _daimonic_ being\nwhich takes the place of the soul of the dead. The same Antiphon\nspeaks also of ~hoi t\u00f4=n apothano/nt\u00f4n prostro/paioi, ho\nprostro/paios tou= apothano/ntos~ as something distinct from the\ndead man himself: _Tetr._ 3, ~a~ 4; 3, ~b~ 8; cf. ~ho Murti/lou\nprostro/paios~, Paus. 2, 18, 2, etc.; cf. Zacher, _Dissert. phil.\nHalens._, iii, p. 228. The injured dead himself becomes ~_arai=os_~,\nSoph., _Tr._ 1201 ff. (cf. _fr._ 367; E., _IT._ 778; _Med._ 608);\nlater his place is taken by ~dai/mones arai=oi~. What terrible evils\nthe unavenged soul can bring upon the person who is called upon to\ntake vengeance are painted for us by Aesch. in _Cho._ 278 ff. (or\nelse as some think an ancient interpolator of A.). Sickness and\ntrouble might be sent over several generations by such ~palaia\\\nm\u00eani/mata~ of the dead: Pl., _Phdr._ 244 D (see Lobeck's account,\n_Agl._ 636 f.). True to ancient beliefs an Orphic hymn prays to the\nTitanes ~_m\u00ea=nin_ chalep\u00ea\\n apope/mpein, ei/ tis _apo\\ chthoni/\u00f4n\nprogo/n\u00f4n_ oi/koisi pela/sth\u00ea~, _H._ 37, 7 f.; cf. 39, 9-10.]\n\n[149\\5: ~chre\u00f4/n estin _hupexelthei=n_ t\u00f4=| _patho/nti to\\n\ndra/santa_ ta\\s h\u00f4/ras pa/sas tou= eniautou=, kai\\ er\u00eam\u00f4=sai pa/ntas\ntou\\s oikei/ous to/pous xumpa/s\u00eas t\u00ea=s patri/dos~, Pl., _Lg._ ix,\n865 E. The law says in the case of the criminal convicted of murder\n~ei/rgein me\\n t\u00ea=s tou= patho/ntos patri/dos, ktei/nein de\\ ouch\nho/sion hapantachou=~, D. 23, 38.]\n\n[150\\5: When the victim was a citizen, and also in wilful murder of\na non-citizen. See Mei. and Sch., _Att. Proc._^2, p. 379, n.\n520.--When the citizenship of a city rested upon conquest the lives\nof the subjects belonging to the older subject population were of\nless account. In Tralles (Karia) the murder of one of the Leleges by\nan (Argive) full citizen might be bought off by payment of a bushel\nof peas (a purely symbolical ~poin\u00ea/~) to the relations of the\nvictim: Plu., _Q.Gr._ 46, p. 302 B.]\n\n[151\\5: On the expiry of the legally appointed period of banishment\nthe relations of the dead man do not seem to have been allowed to\nrefuse ~ai/desis~. See Philippi, _Areop. u. Epheten_, 115 f.]\n\n[152\\5: Law ap. D. 43, 57.]\n\n[153\\5: D. 37, 59. See Philippi, op. cit., p. 144 ff. Cf. E.,\n_Hipp._ 1435 f., 1442 f., 1448 f.]\n\n[154\\5: Such prohibition against taking a ~poin\u00ea/~ for murder is\nmade by the Law ap. D. 23, 28: ~tou\\s d' andropho/nous exei=nai\napoktei/nein . . . lumai/nesthai de\\ m\u00ea/, _m\u00eade\\ apoina=n_~ (cf. \u00a7\n33 ~to\\ de\\ m\u00ead' apoina=n; m\u00ea\\ chr\u00ea/mata pra/ttein, ta\\ ga\\r\nchr\u00ea/mata a/poina \u00f4no/mazon hoi palaioi/~). In spite of this Meier\nand others unjustifiably conclude that murder could be indemnified\nby payment of money, from the illegal practice mentioned in [D.] 58,\n29: this speaks rather for the contrary. They have more appearance\nof justification when they appeal to Harp. (Phot. Suid., _E.M._ 784,\n26; _AB._ 313, 5 ff.), s.v. ~hupopho/nia; ta\\ epi\\ pho/n\u00f4| dido/mena\nchr\u00ea/mata toi=s oikei/ois tou= phoneuthe/ntos, hi/na m\u00ea\\\nepexi/\u00f4sin~. On the strength of this Hermann, _Gr. Staatsalt._^5\n104, 6, says, \"even intentional murder could be absolutely\nindemnified.\" Nothing is actually said of ~pho/nos hekou/sios~ here\nnor do we anywhere learn that the payment of ~hupopho/nia~ {212} on\nthe occasion of a murder was ever a formally _legalized_ proceeding.\nIt remains possible, and even in the circumstances more probable,\nthat Dinarch. and Thphr. in the passages on ~hupopho/nia~ quoted by\nHarp. referred to the practice as one _forbidden_ by law, though it\nmight be, on occasion, an actual fact. If we had only the gloss of\nSuidas--~a/poina; lu/tra, ha\\ di/d\u00f4si/ tis hupe\\r pho/nou \u00ea\\\ns\u00f4/matos. hou/t\u00f4s So/l\u00f4n en no/mois~--we might have concluded that\npayment of such blood-money was allowed in Athens and mentioned in\nSolon's laws as allowable. This would be quite as justifiable as to\nargue as above from Harp. s. ~hupopho/nia~. We know, in fact, that\nthe law referred to the ~a/poina~ and ~apoina=n~ as _forbidden_\nthings, from the passages already quoted from Dem. (23, 28-33). From\nthese the gloss was itself probably derived.]\n\n[155\\5: We cannot, however, believe on the poor authority of Sch.\nDem, p. 607, 16 ff., that the ~hieropoioi\\ tai=s Semnai=s theai=s~\nwere selected out of the whole Athenian citizen body by the\nAreiopagos. (\"Three\" were chosen out of all the Athenians: D. 21,\n115; at other times \"ten\": Dinarch. ap. _EM._ 469, 12 ff.; an\nindefinite number: Phot. ~hieropoioi/~.) According to all analogies\nwe should rather expect this selection to have been made by the\npopular Assembly.]\n\n[156\\5: ~hai di\u00f4mosi/ai kai\\ ta\\ to/mia~, Antiphon, _Herod._ 88. In\nmore detail D. 23, 67-8. Those who had to take an oath swore by the\n~Semnai\\ theai/~ and other gods: Dinarch., _adv. Demosth._ 47. Both\nsides had to swear to the justice of their case in respect of the\nmaterial facts in dispute (Philippi, _Areop._, pp. 87-95). Such a\ncompulsory oath taken by both parties could not of course in any\ncircumstances serve as proof: one side at least must be perjured.\nNor can the Athenians themselves have failed to see this. It is\nsurely doing them an injustice not to see the simple explanation of\nthis strange sort of preliminary oath-taking and to dismiss the\nmatter with a reference to the Athenians as \"not a legally-minded\npeople\" (as Philippi does, p. 88). It is much more natural to\nsuppose that this double oath, taken under circumstances of peculiar\nsolemnity, was not regarded as a juridical matter at all, but had a\npurely religious sense (as it had in the quite similar cases\nmentioned by Meiners, _Allg. Gesch. d. Relig._ ii, 296 f.). The\noath-taker invokes a dreadful curse upon himself if he breaks his\noath and devotes ~hauto\\n kai\\ ge/nos kai\\ oiki/an t\u00ea\\n hautou=~\n(Antiphon, _Herod._ 11) to the Curse-Goddesses, the ~Arai/~ or the\n~Erinu/es hai/ th' hupo\\ gai=an anthr\u00f4/pous ti/nuntai, ho/tis k'\nepi/orkon omo/ss\u00ea|~ (~T~ 259 f.)--and to the Gods who are to punish\nhis children and his whole kith and kin on earth (Lycurg., _Leocr._\n79). If the court discovers the perjured party the punishment due to\nhis action overtakes him (or if he is the plaintiff, he fails in his\npurpose) and at the same time the justice of heaven punishes him for\nhis broken oath (cf. D. 23, 68). But the court may make a mistake\nand not find out the perjurer; in which case the perjurer is still\npunished for he becomes a victim of the gods to whom he has devoted\nhimself--who do not err. Thus the double oath is an _addition_ to\nthe judicial inquiry, and heavenly punishment stands side by side\nwith that of men. The two may coincide, but this need not be so, and\nin this way the guilty is punished whatever happens. (How familiar\nsuch ideas were in antiquity we see from expressions used by\norators: Isoc. 18, 3; D. 19, 239-40; Lycurg., _Leocr._ 79.) The\noath, being an appeal to a higher court, supplemented human justice,\nor rather the legal processes of men supplemented the oath-taking,\nfor in this partnership the appeal to an oath must have been the\nolder member.] {213}\n\n[157\\5: Poll. 8, 117, ~kath' he/kaston de\\ m\u00ea=na tri\u00f4=n h\u00eamer\u00f4=n\nedi/kazon~ (the judges on the Areiopagos) ~ephex\u00ea=s, teta/rt\u00ea|\nphthi/nontos, tri/t\u00ea|, deute/ra|~.]\n\n[158\\5: ~hoi Areopagi=tai trei=s pou tou= m\u00ea=nos h\u00eame/ras ta\\s\nphonika\\s di/kas edi/kazon, heka/st\u00ea| t\u00f4=n the\u00f4=n mi/an h\u00eame/ran\napone/montes~, Sch. Aeschin. 1, 188, p. 282 Sch. This certainly\nimplies that the limitation of the number of the Erinyes to three\n(and not two for example--which first appears in Eurip., but was\ncertainly not his own invention--was officially current in the\nworship of the city.--Since these three days were sacred to the\nErinyes, as goddesses of Hades, they counted as ~apophra/des\nh\u00eame/rai~: _EM._ 131, 16 f.; _Et. Gud._ 70, 5 (the thirtieth day of\nthe month is for that reason ~phau/l\u00ea pa=sin e/rgois~ acc. to\n\"Orpheus\" _fr._ 28 Ab.).]\n\n[159\\5: Paus. 1, 28, 6.]\n\n[160\\5: The Erinyes are the accusers of Orestes not only in\nAeschylus (and thence in Eurip. too, _IT._ 940 ff.), but also in the\nvarying accounts derived from different sources, in which the twelve\ngods served as judges ap. D. 23, 66 (cf. 74, and Dinarch., _adv.\nDem._ 87).]\n\n[161\\5: The Erinyes are said ~apo\\ z\u00f4=ntos rhophei=n eruthro\\n ek\nmele/\u00f4n pe/lanon~, A., _Eum._ 264 f.; cf. 183 f.; 302; 305. In this\nthey closely resemble the \"vampires\" which we hear of especially in\nSlav popular mythology, and the Tii of the Polynesians, etc. These,\nhowever, are the _souls of the dead_ returned from the grave and\nsucking men's blood.]\n\n[162\\5: The Erinyes say to Orestes: ~emoi\\ traphei/s te kai\\\nkathier\u00f4me/nos kai\\ z\u00f4=n me dai/seis oude\\ pro\\s b\u00f4m\u00f4=| sphagei/s~,\nA., _Eum._ 304 f. The matricide is divis parentum (i.e. their Manes)\nsacer, their sacrificial victim (~_thu=ma_ katachthoni/ou Dio/s~\nD.H. 2, 10, 3), in the older belief of Greece, too.]\n\n[163\\5: See _Rh. Mus._ 50, 6 ff.]\n\n[164\\5: The fact that after receiving the ~ai/desis~ of the dead\nman's relatives the agent of a ~pho/nos akou/sios~ was still\nrequired to offer the expiatory sacrifice as well as undergo\npurification (~hilasmo/s~ and ~katharmo/s~) is alluded to by Dem.\n23, 72-3, in the double expression ~thu=sai kai\\ katharth\u00ea=nai,\nhosiou=n kai\\ kathai/resthai~ (cf. M\u00fcller, _Aesch. Eum._, p. 144\n[122, n. 2, E.T.]).]\n\n[165\\5: See Philippi, _Areop. u. Eph._ 62.]\n\n[166\\5: In the Iliad and the Odyssey there is a total absence not\nonly of all reference to purification from blood-guiltiness but of\nthe necessary conditions for it. The murderer goes freely among men\nwithout there being any fear of others suffering from a ~mi/asma~\nattaching to him. Cf. the case especially of Theoklymenos, ~o~\n271-8. Lobeck rightly emphasizes this, _Agl._ 301. K. O. M\u00fcller's\nattempts to prove in spite of everything that purifications from the\nstain of murder were a Homeric custom, are failures. See N\u00e4gelsbach,\n_Hom. Theol._^2, p. 293.--The oldest examples of purifications from\nmurder in the literature are (Lobeck 309): purification of Achilles\nfrom the blood of Thersites in the ~Aithiopi/s~, p. 33 Kink.;\nrefusal of Neleus to purify Herakles from the murder of Iphitos:\nHesiod ~en katalo/gois~, Sch., Il. ~B~ 336.--Mythical exx. of such\npurifications in later accounts: Lob., _Agl._ 968-9.]\n\n[167\\5: E g. offering of cakes, sacrifice of drink-offerings without\nwine, burning of the materials of sacrifice; cf. the description of\n~hilasmo/s~ (in this place clearly distinguished from ~katharmo/s~)\nin A.R. iv, 712 ff. Similar account (offerings without wine, etc.)\nof the ~hilasmo/s~ (which is, however, improperly called\n~katharmo/s~, l. 466) of the Eumenides at Kolonos which the chorus\nrecommends to Oedipus, S., _O.C._ 469 ff. No one might eat of the\nexpiatory sacrifice: Porph., _Abst._ 2, 44. It is burnt completely:\nStengel, _Jahrb. f. Phil._ 1883, p. 369 ff.--The {214} clash of\nbronze was used ~pro\\s pa=san aphosi/\u00f4sin kai\\ apoka/tharsin~:\nApollod. _fr._ 36 (and in offerings to Hekate, Theoc. ii, 36; as\nprotection against ghosts, Luc., _Philops._ 15; Sch. Theoc. ii, 36;\nTz., _Lyc._ 77. Clash of bronze in this apotropaic sense occurs,\ntoo, in the dance of the Kouretes, etc.; see below). The ritual of\nexpiation was affected in many ways by admixture of foreign\nsuperstitions from Phrygia and Lydia. Its chief source is to be\nfound in the _Cretan_ worship of the (chthonic) Zeus. Thence it\nseems to have spread all over Greece assisted by the Apolline oracle\nof Delphi. This is why the ram, the peculiar victim of ~Zeu\\s\nchtho/nios~, is the principal victim in expiatory sacrifices, its\nfleece, the ~Dio\\s k\u00f4/dion~, receiving the various materials of\nexpiation, etc.]\n\n[168\\5: On the chthonic character of the deities of expiation see in\ngen. K. O. M\u00fcller, _Aesch. Eum._, p. 139 ff. (112 ff.). Chief among\nthem is ~Zeu\\s meili/chios~ (a euphemistic title; cf. above, n. 5),\nwho is unmistakably a ~chtho/nios~. Hence, like all ~chtho/nioi~ he\nis represented as a snake on the votive tablet to ~Z. meil.~\ndiscovered in the Peiraeus (certainly the Athenian god and not a\nforeign deity identified with this god whom all Athenians knew well\nfrom the feast of the Diasia): _BCH._ 7, 507 ff.; _CIA._ ii, 1578 ff.\nOn a votive insc. from Lykia we have, side by side with the chthonic\nHekate, ~Dii\\ Meilichi/\u00f4| kai\\ Enodi/a|~, _BCH._ 13, 392. Other\n~theoi\\ meili/chioi~ in Lokris were worshipped with _nocturnal_\nsacrifice (as regularly in the case of underworld deities): Paus.\n10, 38, 8. The ~dai/mones meili/chioi~ as ~chtho/nioi~ are\ncontrasted with the ~maka/ressin ourani/ois~ in the oracle verses\nap. Phlegon, _Macr._ iv, p. 93, 5 Kel.: deis milicheis _Acta Lud.\nSaecul._ Tab. A l. 11 [= _CIL._ vi, 32, 323; see Mommsen, _Ges.\nSchr._ viii, 570].--Then come the ~apotro/paioi~: their nature can\nbe guessed from the fact that they were worshipped together with the\ndead and Hekate on the thirtieth day of the month (see above, n.\n88). After a bad dream offerings were made to the ~apotro/paioi~, to\nGe and the Heroes: Hp., _Diaet._ 4, 8, vi, p. 652 L. ~Zeu\\s\napotro/paios~ must have been a ~chtho/nios~, but we have side by\nside with him an ~Ath\u00eana= apotropai/a~ (and an Apollo ~apotr.~ too):\nins. from Erythrai, _SIG._ 600, 69; 115: the provinces of\n~Olu/mpioi~ and ~chtho/nioi~ were not always kept absolutely\ndistinct.--An ancient and hereditary service of the propitiation\ndeities belonged to the Attic family of the Phytalids who had once\npurified and offered expiatory sacrifice for Theseus after the\nmurder of Skiron and others (~hagni/santes kai\\ meili/chia\nthu/santes~): Plu., _Thes._ 12. The gods to whom this family offered\nsacrifice were Demeter and Zeus Meilichios: Paus. 1, 37, 2-4.--Isoc.\n5, 117, makes a clear distinction between the ~theoi\\ Olu/mpioi~ and\nthe gods to whom only an apotropaic cult, ~apopompa/s~, was offered;\nthese being the gods of expiation (cf. ~apodiopompei=sthai~ in\npropitiatory sacrifices; ~apopompai=oi theoi/~: Apollod. ap. Harp.\n~apopompa/s~. Cf. also ~apopomp\u00ea/~ of evil daimones in contrast to\nthe ~epipomp\u00ea/~ of the same: Anon. _Vir. Herb._ xxii, 165. See\nHemsterhuys, _Lucian_ ii, p. 255 Bip.; Lob., _Agl._ 984, ii).]\n\n[169\\5: e.g. in the description of the ~hilasmo/s~ of Medea by Kirke\nin A.R. iv, 712 ff.]\n\n[170\\5: K. O. M\u00fcller, _Dorians_, i, 328, 336; cf. the same ancient\ncustom of flight for nine years and penance for the slaying of a man\nin the legend and cult of Zeus Lykaios; cf. H. D. M\u00fcller, _Myth. d.\ngr. St._ ii, 105. See below.]\n\n[171\\5: _Cho._ 1055-60. _Eum._ 237 ff., 281 ff., 445 ff., 470.]\n\n[172\\5: The Delphinion, the court for trying ~pho/nos di/kaios~, and\nthe ancient dwelling of Aegeus (Plu., _Thes._ 12), was at the same\ntime {215} (and perhaps originally) an expiation site. Expiatory\nsacrifice was there made for Theseus after his fights with the\nPallantidai and the highway robbers (~aphosiou/menos to\\ a/gos~,\nPoll. viii, 119).]\n\n[173\\5: Plu., _Ser. Num._ 17, p. 560 EF. Note the expressions:\n~_hila/sasthai_ t\u00ea\\n tou= Archilo/chou psuch\u00ea/n, _hilasasthai_ t\u00ea\\n\nPausani/ou psuch\u00ea/n~. Suid. ~Archi/lochos~, from Aelian:\n~_meili/xasthai_ t\u00ea\\n tou= Telesiklei/ou paido\\s psuch\u00ea/n, kai\\\n_pra\u00fc=nai_ choai=s~.]\n\n[174\\5: The three ~ex\u00eag\u00eatai\\ putho/chr\u00eastoi, hoi=s me/lei\nkathai=rein tou\\s a/gei tini\\ enisch\u00eathe/ntas~, Tim. **_Lex._ p. 109\nR.]\n\n[175\\5: Pl., _Lg._ 865 B: the agent in a ~pho/nos akou/sios~ (of a\nspecial kind) ~katharthei\\s kata\\ to\\n ek Delph\u00f4=n komisthe/nta\nperi\\ tou/t\u00f4n no/mon e/st\u00f4 katharo/s~.]\n\n[176\\5: I set down here the expressions occurring in the speeches\nand the (at any rate contemporary [see Appendix iv]) Tetralogies of\nAntiphon, which throw light on the religious ideas lying behind the\nprocedure in trials for murder. In the prosecution of the murderer\nthe following are concerned: ~ho tethne\u00f4/s, hoi no/moi~, and ~theoi\\\nhoi ka/t\u00f4~, _Or._ 1, 31. The vigorous prosecution of the case on the\npart of the relations of the dead is ~_bo\u00eathei=n_ t\u00f4=| tethne\u00f4=ti~:\n1, 31. _Tetr._ 1 ~b~, 13. The condemnation of the murderer is\n~tim\u00f4ri/a t\u00f4=| adik\u00eathe/nti~, his personal revenge: 5, 88 = 6, 6.\nThe accusing relatives come before the court as representatives of\nthe dead man, ~_anti\\_ tou= patho/ntos episk\u00ea/ptomen humi=n~, as\nthey say to the judges, _Tetr._ 3 ~g~, 7. The duty of accusing as\nwell as the ~ase/b\u00eama~ of the deed of bloodshed rests upon them\nuntil satisfaction is made for it: _Tetr._ 1 ~a~, 3. But the\n~mi/asma~ of the deed attaches to the whole city in which the\nmurderer lives. All who sit at table with him, or live under the\nsame roof, even the temples he walks in, are polluted by his mere\npresence: hence come ~aphori/ai~ and ~dustuchei=s pra/xeis~ on the\ncity. It is to the greatest interest of the judges to avert this\npollution by giving a propitiatory judgment: _Tetr._ 1 ~a~, 10;\n_Or._ 5, 11, 82; _Tetr._ 1 ~a~, 3; 1 ~g~, 9, 11; 3 ~g~, 6, 7. Above\nall it is necessary to find the real criminal and to punish him. If\nthe relatives of the dead prosecute some one other than the real\ndoer of the deed, it is they, and not the judges (on account of\ntheir wrong decision), who will have to bear the wrath of the dead\nman and of the avenging spirits: _Tetr._ 1 ~a~, 3; 3 ~a~, 4; 3 ~d~,\n10; for in this case the murdered man is deprived of his ~tim\u00f4ri/a~:\n3 ~a~, 4. But perjured witnesses and unjust judges are liable to a\n~mi/asma~, too, which they then introduce into their own houses:\n_Tetr._ 3 ~a~, 3; or at least, if they give a false condemnation\n(but not a false acquittal) of the accused, they incur the ~m\u00ea/nima\nt\u00f4=n alit\u00eari/\u00f4n~ acc. to _Tetr._ 3 ~b~, 8--i.e. that of the falsely\ncondemned person (whereas the murdered man still continues angry\nwith his own relatives). If they _knowingly_ acquit the murderer\ncontrary to justice, the murdered man becomes ~enthu/mios~ to the\njudges and no longer to his relatives: _Tetr._ 1 ~g~, 10.--The\nsource of the resentment is said to be the dead man himself:\n~prostro/paios ho apothan\u00f4/n~, _Tetr._ 1 ~g~, 10; cf. 3 ~d~, 10;\nwhere he is parallel with ~to\\ m\u00ea/nima t\u00f4=n _alit\u00eari/\u00f4n_~. The\nmurdered man leaves behind him ~t\u00ea\\n t\u00f4=n alit\u00eari/\u00f4n dusme/neian~\n(and _this_ is what the ~mi/asma~ really is--not as some modern\nwriters have imagined, any sort of \"moral\" pollution--as is clearly\nstated in this passage: ~t\u00ea\\n t\u00f4=n alit. dusme/neian, \u00ea\\n . . .\nmi/asma . . . eisa/gontai~): _Tetr._ 3 ~a~, 3; cf. Again 3 ~b~, 8; 3\n~g~, 7. In this case the avenging spirits substitute themselves for\nthe soul of the dead man (just as in the case where a ~prostro/paios\ntou= apothano/ntos~ is spoken of: cf. above, n. 148). The\n~prostro/paioi t\u00f4=n apothana/nt\u00f4n~ become themselves ~deinoi\\\nalit\u00ea/rioi~ of the dilatory relatives: {216} _Tetr._ 3 ~a~, 4. There\nis no essential distinction between the two (cf. Poll. 5, 131).\nElsewhere we hear of ~to\\ prostro/paion~ as the special attribute or\nfeeling of the murdered man himself: _Tetr._ 2 ~d~, 9. Thus also we\nhave the alternatives ~enthu/mios ho apothan\u00f4/n~ (1 ~g~, 10) and\n~to\\ _enthu/mion_~ (2 ~a~, 2; 2 ~d~, 9). In this connexion it is\nclear that ~enthu/mion~ (as the fixed and conventional expression\nfor these superstitions) means the indignant memory, the longing for\nrevenge of the murdered man (--~enthu/mion e/st\u00f4 Da/matros kai\\\nKou/ras~, _GDI._ 3541, 8). The proper understanding of this word\nwill help us to see what is meant by the expression ~_oxuthu/mia_~\nused of the meal offered to the dead and Hekate, and the almost\nidentical purificatory offerings, that after the religious cleansing\nof a house were thrown out at the cross-roads (Harp. s.v. Phot. s.v.\nArt. 1, 2, 3; _AB._ 287, 24, 288, 7; _EM._ 626, 44 ff.). They are\nintended to appease the easily awakened anger of the souls (and of\ntheir patroness Hekate), their ~oxu/thumon~, a stronger version of\n~enthu/mion~, by apotropaic sacrifice.]\n\n[177\\5: See Appendix ii (~maschalismo/s~).]\n\n[178\\5: Xen., _Cyr._ 8, 7, 17 ff.: ~ou ga\\r d\u00ea/pou tou=to/ ge\nsaph\u00f4=s dokei=te eide/nai h\u00f4s oude/n eimi eg\u00f4\\ e/ti, epeida\\n tou=\nanthr\u00f4pi/nou bi/ou teleut\u00ea/s\u00f4; oude\\ ga\\r nu=n toi t\u00ea/n g' em\u00ea\\n\npsuch\u00ea\\n he\u00f4ra=te . . . ta\\s de\\ t\u00f4=n a/dika patho/nt\u00f4n psucha\\s\nou/p\u00f4 kateno\u00ea/sate, hoi/ous me\\n pho/bous toi=s miaipho/nois\nemba/llousin, hoi/ous de\\ palamnai/ous~ (which means first the\ncriminal and then, as here, the punishing spirit that avenges the\ncriminal deed, exactly like ~prostro/paios, alit\u00ea/rios, ala/st\u00f4r,\nmia/st\u00f4r~: see Zacher, _Dissert. phil. Halens._ iii, 232 ff.) ~toi=s\nanosi/ois epipe/mpousi? toi=s de\\ phthime/nois ta\\s tima\\s\ndiame/nein e/ti a\\n dokei=te, ei m\u00eadeno\\s aut\u00f4=n hai psuchai\\\nku/riai \u00ea=san? ou/toi e/g\u00f4ge, \u00f4= pai=des, oude\\ **tou=to p\u00f4/pote\nepei/sth\u00ean, h\u00f4s h\u00ea psuch\u00ea/, he/\u00f4s me\\n a\\n en thn\u00eat\u00f4=| s\u00f4/mati \u00ea=|,\nz\u00ea=|, ho/tan de\\ tou/tou apallag\u00ea=|, te/thn\u00eaken~. Then follow other\npopular arguments for the belief in the continued existence of the\nsoul after its separation from the body.]\n\n\n{{217}}\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nTHE ELEUSINIAN MYSTERIES\n\n\nThe cult of the dead, thus pursued in unhampered freedom, preserved\nand encouraged certain ideas of the life of the soul after death; of\nthe soul as a conscious and powerful being which though separated\nfrom the body has not been parted for ever from the scene of its\nearthly existence. To the Greeks such ideas had become strange and\nunfamiliar--strange, at least, to the Ionian Greeks of the Homeric\nage.\n\nBut from such a cult no dogmatic or distinctly outlined picture of\nthe life of the departed soul could have been deduced, nor ever was\ndeduced. Everything in this connexion dealt with the relation of the\ndead to the living. Families by means of sacrifice and religious\nacts sought to nourish the souls of their own dead. But the cult was\nin itself chiefly precautionary (apotropaic) in character, and as a\nconsequence men preferred rather to avoid investigation into the\nnature and condition of the dead themselves, except in so far as\nthey came into the life of the living.\n\nThis is the point at which the cult of the souls and belief in the\nexistence of souls stopped short among many of the so-called\n\"savage\" peoples who have no history. Nor can there be much doubt\nthat it had reached this stage of development in Greece, too, before\nthe time of Homer; though temporarily overshadowed, it continued to\nexist for it was rooted firmly in the united life of the family and\nits traditional practices.\n\nSuch traditional beliefs, however, left the nature of the\ndisembodied soul vague and undefined; they viewed it purely from the\nstandpoint of the living and almost entirely in its relations with\nthis world; and resting on such foundations it is not very\nsurprising if they yielded unresistingly and sank into\ninsignificance once the feeling of the influence exercised by the\ndead upon the living began to weaken, or if anything happened to\ncause the decline or discredit of the cult of the dead. When the\nliving withdrew their support and reverence from the departed soul\nthe latter ceased to present any clear picture to the minds of\nmen--it became a mere evanescent shadow--unsubstantial--little more\nthan nothing. This is what {218} happened in the period of Ionic\nculture, in which Homer lived.\n\nThe poetry of that period, however, had of its own accord given rise\nto aspirations after a fuller and more definite picture of the long,\nunbounded future in the life to come. These aspirations had been\ngiven shape in the pictures of the _translation_ of individual\nmortals to Elysium and the Islands of the Blest.\n\nSuch things, however, were, and continued to be, matters of poetry,\nnot of religious faith. Even the poetical fancy dealt with the\nmarvellous past and with exceptional heroes chosen out long ago by\nthe special favour of the gods; such favour was not extended to\ninclude the living generations of men. The desire, once it was\nawakened, for a more hopeful prospect of the life to come beyond the\ngrave and for something more than the mere negative existence of the\nancestors worshipped in family cults, must look to other sources for\nits satisfaction. Such desires began to be felt by many, but their\noriginating source and the secret forces that set them going must\nremain for us hidden behind the obscurity that lies over the most\nimportant period of Greek development, the eighth and seventh\ncenturies. Nor does it help us very much when historians try to stop\nthe gaps of our knowledge with platitudes or the barren offspring of\ntheir own imagination. The existence of such desires and their\ngrowing strength is shown by the fact that they were able to create\nfor themselves a means of satisfaction (a peculiarly limited\nsatisfaction it is true) in a direction that immediately occurs to\neveryone as soon as the subject of future blessedness or belief in\nimmortality among the Greeks is mentioned--the Eleusinian Mysteries.\n\n\u00a7 2\n\nWherever the cult of the gods of the earth and the lower world, and\nparticularly of Demeter and her daughter, was at its height it was\nnot difficult for hopes of a better fate in the kingdom of souls\nbelow the earth, where those deities ruled, to become attached to\nparticipation in their cult. The tendency to connect closely such\nhopes with the worship of these gods may have existed in many\ndifferent localities. In Eleusis alone, however (and in the cults,\nmostly of later origin, affiliated to Eleusis), we see this\nconnexion carried out as a fully organized institution. We can\nfollow at least in general outline the gradual advance of the\nEleusinian religious organization. The Homeric _Hymn to Demeter_\ntells us the origin {219} of the cult according to the national\nlegends of Eleusis. In the country of the Eleusinians the divine\ndaughter of Demeter, after being carried down to the lower world by\nA\u00efdoneus, came up once more to the light of day, and was restored to\nher mother. Before ascending to Olympos and the company of the other\nimmortals, in accordance with the wish of Zeus, Demeter fulfilled\nher promise, and when the Eleusinians had erected a temple to her\noutside the city, over the spring Kallichoros, she founded the\nsacred worship whereby men should do honour to her in the future.\nShe herself instructed the princes of the land \"in the performance\nof the cult and taught them her sacred _Orgia_\", which respect for\nthe goddess does not allow them to communicate to others.[1\\6] This\nprimitive Eleusinian cult of Demeter, then, is the religious service\nof a close corporation. Knowledge of the holy ritual, carrying with\nit the priesthood of the two goddesses is confined to the\ndescendants of the four Eleusinian princes to whom Demeter once gave\nher ordinances as an inheritance. The cult is therefore a \"secret\"\none: not more so, indeed, than a great many cult-societies of\nGreece, participation in which was strictly forbidden to all\nunauthorized persons.[2\\6] It differs from them, however, in the\nsolemn promise which is made to the participants in its worship.\n\"Blessed is the man who has beheld these holy acts; but he that is\nuninitiated and has no share in the holy ceremonies shall not enjoy\na like fate after his death, in the gloomy darkness of Hades.\" To\nthose who share in the Eleusinian worship a privileged fate is\npromised after death; but even in his lifetime, we read further\non,[3\\6] he is highly blessed whom the two goddesses love: they send\nhim Ploutos, the giver of good things, to be a beloved partner of\nhis hearth and home. On the other hand, whosoever honours not Kor\u00ea,\nthe queen of the lower world, with gifts and sacrifice, shall do\npenance everlastingly (368 ff.).\n\nThe narrow circle of those to whom such a tremendous promise was\nmade began to be extended after the time when Eleusis was united\nwith Athens (which may have taken place some time in the seventh\ncentury), and when the Eleusinian worship was raised to the position\nof an official cult of the Athenian state. Nor was it Attica alone,\nbut the whole of Greece which became interested in the Eleusinian\nfestival, when Athens became the chief centre of Greek life. A\nsolemn \"truce of God\" was proclaimed which assured the peaceful and\nundisturbed performance of the sacred ritual, and distinguished the\nEleusinia, like the great games and Fairs of Olympia, the Isthmus,\netc., as a Pan-Hellenic festival. At {220} the height of Athenian\npower (about 440)[4\\6] a decree of the people was passed which\nrequired the yearly offering of first fruits of the fields to the\nEleusinian temple from Athenian citizens and allies, and invited\nsimilar offerings from _all_ Greek states. The decree could appeal\nin so doing to ancient and ancestral custom, and to an utterance of\nthe Delphic god who had authorized these things.[5\\6] The inner\nhistory of the development of the Eleusinian festival is a matter of\nsome obscurity. The holy rites continued to be performed at Eleusis;\nEleusinian noble families still took part[6\\6] in the worship of the\ngoddesses, which was yet directed by the Athenian government. On the\nother hand, a good deal must have been altered in the course of\ntime. The popular decree mentioned above acquaints us with the names\nof two triads, each composed of two divine personages and a Hero,\nwho were worshipped at Eleusis at that time. Demeter and Kor\u00ea occur\ntogether with Triptolemos, and also \"the god, the goddess, and\nEubouleus\".[7\\6] The Homeric hymn gives no hint of the very\nimportant position here (and in innumerable other accounts, as well\nas pictorial representations) attributed to Triptolemos, nor of the\nother addition to the Eleusinian group of divinities. It is evident\nthat in the course of years many different local figures and modes\nof worship have been added to and fused with the old cult of the two\ngoddesses; and that in these local figures we have always the one\ntype of chthonic godhead expressing itself anew in ever varied and\ndifferentiated forms. Their number is not exhausted by the six\nalready mentioned.[8\\6] The most important addition to the\nEleusinian circle of deities was Iakchos, the son of Zeus\n(Chthonios) and Persephone. This god was himself an underworld\ndeity, quite distinct from that Dionysos, with whom other Athenian\ncults confused him, and with whom he was in fact commonly\nidentified.[9\\6] It is a very probable supposition that this god,\nwho soon came to be regarded as the central figure of the group of\ndeities worshipped at Eleusis,[10\\6] was the contribution of Athens\nto that circle: his temple was situated in Athens not Eleusis;[11\\6]\nin the Athenian suburb Agrai the \"Little Mysteries\" were celebrated\nin his honour in the spring as a sort of prelude to the greater\nfestival. At the Eleusinia itself, the sacred procession, in which\nthe picture of the youthful god was borne from Athens to Eleusis,\nformed the link between the part of the festival already performed\nat Athens and that still to take place at Eleusis. The introduction\nof Iakchos into the festival of Eleusis did not merely make an\nexternal addition to the group of divinities that already shared in\nit; it added {221} an act[12\\6] to the sacred story, the\nrepresentation of which was the goal and summit of the festival; and\nthereby in all probability enriched it internally in meaning and\nsubstance. It is, indeed, quite impossible for us even to hazard a\nguess as to the exact meaning and essence of the change which came\nover the festival thus enlarged in the course of time. We can,\nhowever, be sure of this much; there is no ground at all for\nentertaining the commonly held view that it was the private\nmysteries of Orphic conventicles which exercised such a transforming\ninfluence on the public mysteries of the Athenian state. Those who\nare not content with solemn and mysterious jargon about \"Orphics\"\nand the like, but keep clearly in mind the well-known and quite\ndistinctive features of the Orphic doctrine about gods and the souls\nof men, will easily recognize that everything points to the\nunlikelihood of even a single one of these having entered the circle\nof ideas current at Eleusis.[13\\6] They could only have shattered\nsuch ideas to pieces.\n\nIf the festival, then, grew of its own accord in inward meaning and\noutward circumstance, the circle of those who came to take part in\nit grew as well. Originally this festival, so rich in promised\nblessings, admitted only the citizens of Eleusis, perhaps only the\nmembers of certain noble Eleusinian families--and may have appeared\nto its members an even greater privilege through this very\nexclusiveness. In this respect it changed completely, admission to\nit was thrown open to all Greeks--not merely Athenians, but every\nGreek without distinction of race or country, whether man or woman,\nwas welcomed at Eleusis (and even hetairai, who were still excluded,\ne.g. from the Demeter-festival of the Athenian women; to say nothing\nof children and slaves).[14\\6] The generosity of Athens--such was\nthe glorious boast--wished the unexampled salvation which this\nfestival promised to its worshippers to be made accessible to all\nGreeks.[15\\6] What contrast to the exclusive cult-unions into which\na man had to be born in order, as citizen of a state, member of a\n_phratria_, clan, or family, to participate in the advantages they\noffered! The society of the Eleusinian mystery-festival, once just\nas exclusive as the rest, had thrown open its doors so widely that\nthis almost unconditional freedom of access became its principle and\ndistinguishing characteristic. The attraction of membership was even\nheightened by the fact that just by his own unhampered free will and\nchoice the individual could enter the great society through the\nmediation of one of the two families to whom the highest priesthood\nof the festival {222} was committed.[16\\5] The only condition made\nwas ritual purity, and murderers, for whom this was an\nimpossibility--as it was even for those who were only accused of the\nshedding of blood--were as such excluded from the mysteries: as,\nindeed, they were from all the religious ceremonies of the\nstate.[17\\6]\n\nReligious purification of the worshippers preceded and accompanied\nthe holding of the festival; to many of the believers it may have\nappeared that the whole festival itself was principally a great\npurification and religious dedication of unusual solemnity, by which\nthe members (\"the Pure\"[18\\6] as they called themselves) were made\nworthy of the favour of the goddesses.\n\n\u00a7 3\n\nAs to the actual details of what went on at the long-drawn-out\nfestival itself our knowledge hardly extends beyond the most\nexternal circumstances, and is even so most incomplete. A few\nnotices in late and often untrustworthy writers give us a very\ninadequate picture of what took place inside the great temple of\ninitiation and of the essential Mystery. The secret which was\ncommitted[19\\6] to the Mystai and Epoptai has been well kept.\nConsidering the enormous number of worshippers indiscriminately\nadmitted to the festival, this would, indeed, have been a real\nmiracle, if the secret to be kept had taken the form of dogma\nexpressed in concept and words and capable of being communicated\nverbally to others. Since the labours of Lobeck, however,\ndrastically reducing to order the confusion of opinions on this\nsubject, no reasonable person believes that this was the case. It\nwas difficult to let out the \"secret\" for there was essentially no\nsecret to let out. Profanation could only come through actions,\nthrough \"the Mysteries being acted\",[20\\6] as they were in the year\n415 in the house of Poulytion. The Mystery was a dramatic\nperformance, or, more strictly, a religious Pantomime, accompanied\nby sacred songs[21\\6] and formal speeches; a representation, as\nChristian authors let us see, of the Rape of Kor\u00ea, the wanderings of\nDemeter, and the final reunion of the goddesses. This in itself\nwould not have made the mysteries remarkable; a similar dramatic\nreproduction of the circumstances attending the life of a god, which\nhad led to the foundation of the festival in question, was a very\nwidespread cult-practice in Greece; it was part of the festivals of\nZeus, Here, Apollo, Artemis, Dionysos, and, above all, of other\nfestivals in honour of Demeter herself. But the Eleusinia was\ndistinguished from all other such festivals, even from the equally\nsecret festivals of Demeter known as the Thesmophoria and the Haloa,\nby reason {223} of the hopes which it inspired in the minds of the\ninitiated. The Hymn to Demeter tells us that the pious worshipper of\nthe Goddess at Eleusis might hope for riches upon earth and a better\nfate after death. Later authorities also speak of the success in\nthis life which initiation at Eleusis gave good ground for\nexpecting. But far more emphatic are the statements, made by\ninnumerable witnesses from Pindar and Sophokles onwards, that only\nthey who have been initiated into these mysteries may entertain a\njoyful expectation of the life to come. To them only is it granted\nto have real \"life\" in Hades; nothing but evil awaits others in that\nplace.[22\\6]\n\nIt was these promises of a blessed immortality that for centuries\ndrew so many worshippers to the Eleusinian festival. Nowhere else\ncould such promises be obtained with such distinctness and\nassurance. The injunction commanding secrecy must obviously have\nreferred to quite other matters; it cannot have applied to this, the\ngreatest boon anticipated from initiation at Eleusis. Everyone\nspeaks out aloud and without restraint about it. At the same time,\nall our information is so completely at one on the point and so free\nfrom doubt or uncertainty that we must perforce believe that the\nperformances that were to be preserved so secret were, in reality,\nfor the believers the source of an assurance which was not held as\nthe mere probable conjecture of individuals, but as fixed and\ncertain truth beyond question or need of interpretation.\n\nHow this was brought about certainly remains obscure. Since the\ndiscrediting of \"symbolism\" in the sense made familiar by Creuzer or\nSchelling, many of our modern mythologists and historians of\nreligion have been all the more eager to assert that the\nperformances at the Eleusinian mysteries were in reality the true\nand mystic celebration of the Greek \"Religion of Nature\" as\ndiscovered by themselves. Demeter, in this view, would be the earth;\nKor\u00ea-Persephone, her daughter, the seed of corn; the Rape and Return\nof Kor\u00ea would mean the sowing of the seed in the earth and the rise\nof the young grain from beneath the soil; or, in a more general\nsense, \"the yearly decay and renewal of vegetation.\" In some way or\nother the Mystai must have had revealed to them the real meaning of\nthe \"nature-symbolism\" hidden in the mystical performances.\nWitnessing these performances they are supposed to have learnt that\nthe fate of the seed of corn, represented by Persephone, its\ndisappearance beneath the earth and eventual rebirth, is an image of\nthe fate of the human soul, which also disappears that it may {224}\nlive again. This, then, must be the real content of the holy\nMystery.\n\nIt remains, however, first and foremost, to be proved that the\nGreeks[23\\6] themselves would have regarded such symbolistic\nmummery, in which the phenomena and processes of nature appear under\nthe guise of anthropomorphic gods, as religious at all, or would\nhave recognized their own religion in such things. Still\nfurther--admitting for the sake of argument the possibility of such\nan interpretation--the identification of Kor\u00ea with the seed of corn\nand its fate leads at once, if we try to get beyond the vaguest\ngeneralities, to intolerable absurdity. It is difficult to see,\nhowever (and this would be the main point at issue), how such an\nanalogy between the soul and the grain of seed could have led to a\nfaith in immortality that was not to be had, it would seem, in a\nmore direct fashion. What possible effect could have been produced\nby such a far-fetched and arbitrary parallel between the phenomena\nof two such wholely different provinces of existence? If a\nreasonably plausible deduction was to be made from the visible and\nunmistakable (the condition of the grain) to the invisible and\nunknown (the condition of the soul) surely the first and simplest\nrequisite would be that a real causal connexion between the two\nshould be plainly demonstrated. These may seem dull and pedantic\nconsiderations where the sublimest forebodings of the heart are\nconcerned; but I should not have supposed that it would have been so\neasy to tempt the Greeks with vague surmises from the path of logic\nand lucidity, or that such surmises would have afforded them such\nextremity of \"bliss\".\n\nLastly, the analogy, even if it proved anything, is false. It would\nonly hold if the soul, like the grain, after a temporary\ndisappearance below the earth, were promised a new life upon the\nearth--if a _palingenesia_ in fact were promised. That this,\nhowever, was not a belief supported by the officially conducted\nmysteries of Athens, is admitted on all hands.\n\nEqually untenable is the view that the dramatic presentation at the\nmysteries of the Rape and Return of Kor\u00ea (regarded this time as a\ndivine personage, not as the personified grain of corn) was intended\nto inspire hopes of an analogous fate for the human soul, by virtue\nof a mystic unification of the life of man with the life of the\ngodhead to whom he swears allegiance.[24\\6] Even so the hope based\nupon the typical fate of Kor\u00ea could only have led to a hope for the\npalingenesia of mankind in general, not (what was and always\nremained the real belief of Eleusis) to the hope of a specially\n{225} favoured after-life for the Mystai in the kingdom below the\nworld. Indeed, we must not look to the Eleusinian mysteries for the\necstatic exaltation of the soul to the recognition of its own\ngodhead--though such exaltation was the motive force and the\nessential core of Greek _mysticism_, as of all mysticism and mystic\nreligion. From the mysteries of Eleusis, however, it remained far\nremoved; the belief there fostered, with its absolute division and\ndistinction between the divine and the human, never transgressed the\nbounds of popular Greek religion, over whose portals stood the\nuniversally prescriptive words: ~he\\n andr\u00f4=n, he\\n the\u00f4=n\nge/nos~--\"the race of men is one, and the race of gods is another.\"\nNor was Eleusis any exception to this rule; the mysteries did not\npoint the way to mysticism.\n\n\u00a7 4\n\nInquiry is on the wrong track when a deeper meaning is sought for in\nthe mimic presentation of the sacred myth at Eleusis whereby the\nhuman soul was to obtain the blessed hope of immortality. The\nconviction that the human soul was immortal in its own right, by\nreason of its own nature, was not a conviction that was obtained at\nEleusis. That is why we may dismiss such fanciful analogies as those\nbetween the human soul and the seed of corn or the goddess of the\nearth's life. Such analogies, if they proved anything, would prove\nat most the complete indestructibility, in spite of all vicissitude,\nof the life of the human soul--of every human soul. But this was not\nEleusinian doctrine. The continued conscious existence of the soul\nafter its separation from the body was not a doctrine but a\npresupposition of Eleusis; and it could be thus presupposed because\nit was the basic idea of the popular and widespread cult offered to\nthe souls of the departed.[25\\6] The advantage obtained by the\ninitiated at Eleusis was that a livelier and fuller _content_ was\ngiven to the bare existence of the disembodied soul, which was all\nthat the current worship of the souls essentially contemplated. We\nare assured that only the initiated at Eleusis will have a real\n\"life\" after death; that evil will be the fate of \"the\nothers\".[26\\6] Not _that_ the soul, relieved of the presence of the\nbody, will live hereafter, but _how_ it will live was what Eleusis\ntaught men. With the calm assurance common to all close and confined\nreligious associations, the Eleusinian society divided mankind into\ntwo classes: the \"Pure\", that is those who had been initiated at\nEleusis, and the innumerable multitude of the uninitiated. Only for\nthe members in {226} communion with the mystery of Eleusis was\nsalvation assured. Salvation was theirs as a reversionary right, but\nsalvation such as theirs was a privilege and could only be obtained\nby participation in the bounteous festival of the Athenian State and\nin its ceremonial. Centuries of large-minded tolerance in admitting\nto the mysteries extended this privilege to an immense number of\nGreeks (and of Romans, too, in later times). But the prospect of a\nblessed hereafter never became a matter of course; not as man, not\neven as a virtuous and pious man did such a privilege come to\nanyone. It was granted solely to the member of the Eleusinian\nreligious society and the participator in the divine service of the\ngoddesses.[27\\6]\n\nWhat were the means employed to impress this hope--this certain\nexpectation rather--of a blessed hereafter in Hades upon the Mystai?\nWe must frankly admit that we cannot, unfortunately, say anything\ndefinite in answer to this question. Only to the suggestion that\nthese hopes were grounded upon _symbolic_ representations of any\nkind may we give a decided denial. And yet this is the generally\naccepted opinion. \"Symbols\" there may have been, as an assistance to\nthe dramatic or pantomimic representation of the Rape and Return of\nKor\u00ea;[28\\6] but hardly in any other sense than that of typical\n_condensations_--the part being put for the whole, or the whole\nunderstood in the part--of scenes impossible to represent in their\nentirety. It is true that with the lapse of centuries, and in the\nabsence of any official written interpretation of the inner meaning\nand intention of the ritual many of these symbols became\nunintelligible--a disadvantage which belonged to all other\ndepartments of Greek religion as well. As soon as independent\nreflexion on matters of religion began to arise, many sorts of\nallegorical or symbolical interpretations began to be applied to the\ndetails of the performances at the mysteries. Does it follow from\nthis that the mysteries of the Earth divinities, as some are\ninclined to believe, bore a symbolical or allegorical character from\nthe outset, and differed in this respect from all other Greek\nworship of the gods?[29\\6] Similar interpretations were applied by\nphilosophers or would-be philosophers to the fables of the gods in\nHomeric or popular mythology; the mysteries did not by any means\nhold a peculiar position in the minds of connoisseurs of\nmyth-interpretation in antiquity. If a \"deeper meaning\" was attached\nby preference to the performances at Eleusis, that only shows that\nmuch in these performances was no longer understood, or in its real\nmeaning no longer satisfied the spirit of the philosophic centuries.\nBut it shows also that for this {227} festival of unexampled\nsplendour, where night and the injunction of secrecy awakened awed\nexpectancy,[30\\6] performed according to an archaic ritual of\never-increasing perfection and attended by the whole of Greece, an\nunusual sympathy was felt. It offered something to the eye and the\near which was attractive to all men, and they exerted themselves to\nfind a satisfactory meaning in its sights and sounds. Finally, it is\nlikely enough that the \"meaning\" which they themselves had\narbitrarily bestowed upon them was what made the mysteries specially\nattractive to many. To this extent it is legitimate to say that\nsymbolism was a real and historical factor in the constitution of\nthe mysteries.\n\nEven supposing, however, that much in the presentation of this\nmystic festival was consciously ordered and disposed by the founders\nof it with a view to symbolic interpretation, and consequently to\nthe possibility of an ever-increasing idealization of its\nsignificance, yet this cannot have extended to the hopes of a\nblessed immortality revealed to the Mystai. Symbolist or\nallegorizing modes of interpretation must always have been the\nprivate concern of individuals and therefore liable to much\nuncertainty and variety.[31\\6] Our authorities, however, from the\nmost diverse periods, speak with far too great distinctness and\nunanimity about the blessed hereafter vouchsafed to the initiated in\nthe mysteries, for it to be credible that this can have been the\noutcome of any interpretation of complexities, or of any\nmetaphorical application of the hopes derived from events in the\nlife of the gods to a quite different province, the life of the\nhuman soul. What every witness speaks of in the plainest and\nsimplest language without any special \"mystery\"--the hope of future\nblessedness--must have been offered to the participants in the\nmysteries in the most unequivocal fashion. It is natural, above all,\nto suppose that the exhibition of the \"mystic drama\" included\nparticularly the final scene as it is sketched in the 2nd Homeric\nHymn: the foundation of the Eleusinian festival by the goddess\nherself--what had once been revealed to the little city-community\nmust have been proclaimed to the great company of those admitted to\nthe common festival of Eleusis:[32\\6] the highest reward of\nparticipation in this unparalleled act of worship is what the\nHomeric Hymn distinctly puts forth as such--the peculiar favour of\nthe gods of the lower world and a future life of blessedness within\ntheir kingdom. The statues of the goddesses were seen radiantly\nilluminated;[33\\6] at this festival of grace in remembrance of their\ntrials, their happiness, and their beneficent acts, they {228}\nthemselves--as it seemed to the faithful believer--were invisibly\npresent. What further need of warrant was there for the promises of\nfuture blessedness?\n\n\u00a7 5\n\nIn spite of many extravagant statements from antiquity, we have no\nmeans of estimating how widely participation in the Eleusinian\nmysteries (whether of those celebrated at Eleusis itself or in the\nnumerous associated festivals) was extended in Greece. Still, it is\nprobable that large numbers, not from Athens alone but from the\nwhole of Greece, sought eagerly to enter the state of grace\nvouchsafed to the worshippers at Eleusis. In this way the more\nlively conception of the state of the soul in the hereafter may have\ngradually become the common property of Greek imagination.\n\nOn the whole, we must be on our guard against attributing too great\nan importance to these mysteries. There can hardly have been any\nquestion of moral influence--the ancients themselves in their most\nexaggerated eulogies of the mysteries and their greatness, say\nalmost nothing of this.[34\\6] Nor is it easy to see what part of the\nmysteries could have served as a vehicle of moral influence.[35\\6]\nDistinct dogma in the religious sense was never provided by the\nmysteries any more than by other worships of the gods in Greece. Nor\nwas there anything exclusive about the cult of the mysteries; side\nby side with that cult and after it the Mystai took part in other\nworships of the gods, according to the usages prevailing in their\nown homes. The great festival when it was over left no sting behind\nin the hearts of the initiated. No requirement of a new manner of\nlife, no new and peculiar condition of conscience was theirs on its\naccount; no strange revaluation of values, contradicting the general\nopinions of the time, was learnt there. There was a total absence of\nthat which (if we rightly understand the word) gives to the\ndoctrines of sectarian religion their force and\npersuasiveness--_paradox_. Even the prospect of future bliss opened\nto the initiated did not divert them from the normal tenor of their\nexistence. It was a genial prospect; not a compelling demand drawing\nall things to itself and turning men away from ordinary life. The\nlight that fell from beyond was not so blinding that it made all\nthings on this earth seem dark and mean. If in the decadence of\nGreek culture--and even among the people of Homer--ideas hostile to\nthis life made their appearance and in many places acquired weight\nand influence; if some men began to think death superior {229} to\nlife, and this life, of which alone we can be assured, as merely a\npreparation, a land of passage to a higher life in the world\ninvisible--for all this the mysteries were not responsible. It was\nnot they, nor the feelings and surmises awakened by their pictures\nand performances, that dulled the beauty of this earth for the\nenthusiasts \"intoxicated with other-worldliness\", or made them\nstrangers to the instincts of life and sanity prevailing in older\nand unspoiled ages of Greek life.\n\n\nNOTES TO CHAPTER VI\n\n[1\\6: _H. Cer._ 270 ff. (Demeter speaks) ~all' a/ge moi n\u00eao/n te\nme/gan kai\\ b\u00f4mo\\n hup' aut\u00f4=| teucho/nt\u00f4n pa=s d\u00ea=mos hupai\\ po/lin\naipu/ te tei=chos, Kallicho/rou kathu/perthen, epi\\ prou/chonti\nkol\u00f4n\u00f4=|. _o/rgia d' aut\u00ea\\ eg\u00f4\\n hupoth\u00ea/somai_, h\u00f4s a\\n e/peita\neuage/\u00f4s e/rdontes emo\\n me/nos hila/sk\u00easthe~. Building of the\ntemple: 298 ff., and following that the instructions of the goddess\nas to the ~dr\u00easmosu/n\u00ea hier\u00f4=n~ and the ~o/rgia~, 474 ff.]\n\n[2\\6: See Lobeck, _Agl._ 272 ff.]\n\n[3\\6: 487 ff. I will not stop to answer the attacks made on the\nconcluding part of the hymn nor to defend the many lines which\neditors have rejected. None of the attacks seem to me justified.]\n\n[4\\6: K\u00f6rte, _Ath. Mitt._ 1896, p. 320, dates the decree in the year\n418.]\n\n[5\\6: ~kata\\ ta\\ pa/tria kai\\ t\u00ea\\n mantei/an t\u00ea\\n ek Delph\u00f4=n~,\n_SIG._ 20, l. 5; 26 f.; 35 [_IG._ i, _Supp._, p. 59, 27_b_]. In\nSicily the Eleusinia are already well known in the time of\nEpicharmos: Epich. ~en Odussei= automo/l\u00f4|~ ap. Ath. 374 D = 100\nKaib. _EM._ 255, 2; cf. K. O. M\u00fcller, _Kl. Schr._ ii, 259.]\n\n[6\\6: We can only state this definitely of the Eumolpidai who\nprovided the male and female hierophants. Severely as the genealogy\nof this family has suffered on all sides through fictitious\naccretions and combinations there can be no doubt of its Eleusinian\norigin. On the other hand, it is a striking fact that none of the\n~ge/n\u00ea~ who are known to have shared in the direction of the Eleus.\nmysteries derived their origin from the Eleusinian princes mentioned\nin _h. Cer._ 475-6 as receiving with Eumolpos the instructions of\nthe goddess (Triptolemos, Diokles, Keleos). The Krokonidai and\nKoironidai did, it is true, claim Triptolemos as their ancestor, but\ntheir connexion with the sacred festival is obscure and dubious (see\nK. O. M\u00fcller, _Kl. Schr._ ii, 255 f.). The Kerykes (in whose family\nthe posts of Dadouchos, Herald of the Mysteries, Priest ~epi\\\nb\u00f4m\u00f4=|~, etc., were hereditary) were only connected with Eumolpos by\na tradition which the family itself regarded as apocryphal (Paus. 1,\n38, 3); they themselves traced their descent from Hermes and Herse\nthe daughter of Kekrops (s. Dittenberger, _Hermes_, xx, 2), and\ntherefore evidently regarded themselves as an Athenian family. We\nknow too little of these relationships to venture to say that this\nclaim was unjustified (as M\u00fcller, p. 250 f., is inclined to do).\nNothing need prevent us from supposing that this is one of the many\ninnovations introduced at and after the union of Eleusis and its\nfestival with Athens--many of them are quite evident--and that in\naddition to the old Eleusinian priestly families the Athenian family\nof the Kerykes was given a regular part in the ~dr\u00easmosu/n\u00ea\nhier\u00f4=n~. This would then be part of the compromise (~sunth\u00ea=kai~,\nPaus. 2, 14, 2) between Athens and Eleusis upon which the whole\nrelationship between the two states and their religious cults\nrested.]\n\n[7\\6: See above, chap. v, n. 18.]\n\n[8\\6: It is doubtful what part the goddess Daeira played in the\nEleusinia: that she played some part must be regarded as certain\nfrom the fact that among the official priesthoods of the festival a\n~daeiri/t\u00eas~ is expressly mentioned (Poll. i, 35). She stands in a\ncertain opposition to Demeter: but though she is nevertheless\nidentified by Aesch. {231} and others with Persephone (K. O. M\u00fcller,\n_Kl. Schr._ ii, 288) the most we may deduce from this is that she\nalso was a chthonic deity. (Acc. to the sacrificial calendar of the\nAttic Tetrapolis, _Leg. Sacr._ i, p. 48, B. 12. ~Dai/ra| hoi=s\nkuou=sa~ was offered. This does not point to the identity of this\ngoddess with Persephone--as the editor, p. 52, points out. Pregnant\nanimals were by preference offered to Demeter, though occasionally\nto Artemis and Athene too.) Daeira seems from all the indications to\nbelong to the ~chtho/nioi~. (Meaning of the name uncertain: ? \"the\nknowing one\" or \"the (torch) burning one\": cf. Lobeck, _Pathol.\nprol._ 263.) In Eust. on ~Z~ 378, p. 648, 24, among the notices\ncollected from the lexicographers there is one in which Pherekydes\nmakes her the sister of Styx (it is not Pherekydes but the\nover-subtle scholar to whom Eust. owes his note, who thinks that\nDaeira signified the ~hugra\\ phu/sis~ to the ancients; so also Ael.\nDionys. quoting ~hoi peri\\ teleta\\s kai\\ must\u00ea/ria~ in his Lexicon,\nap. Eust. 648, 41. This is a worthless allegorical\ninterpretation).--For which reason some made her the daughter of\nOkeanos (M\u00fcller, pp. 244, 288 )--~tine\\s de\\ phu/laka Persepho/n\u00eas\nhupo\\ Plou/t\u00f4nos apodeichth\u00ea=nai/ phasi t\u00ea\\n Da/eiran~ (648, 40).\nAccording to this she would be a Hades-daimon keeping guard over the\nwife of Aidoneus (cf. the guardian ~K\u00f4kutou= peri/dromoi ku/nes~ in\nAr., _Ran._ 472, quoting Eurip.). In this case we can see the origin\nof Demeter's hostility. Did this Daeira also play a part (as a\ncharacter) in the Eleusinian ~dra=ma mustiko/n~? Ap. Rh. makes her\nthe same as Hekate, who, however, in the _h. Cer._ (and on\nvase-paintings) is the helper rather than the enemy of Demeter.]\n\n[9\\6: So also in the recently discovered Paean (fourth century B.C.)\nof Philodamos of Skarpheia addressed to Dionysos (_BCH._ 1895, p.\n403), where in the third section we are told how Dionysos, the son\nof Thyone, born in Thebes, went from Delphi to Eleusis where he was\ncalled Iakchos by the mortals to whom he had (in the mysteries)\nrevealed ~po/n\u00f4n ho/rmon a/lupon~.--The attempt at historical\nsynthesis, bringing together as many as possible of the different\nrelations and ramifications of the Dionysos nature, is particularly\nevident in the whole composition of this hymn. The cult of Dionysos\nwas established in Attica by the Delphic oracle--so much is certain;\nand that is enough for the poet who now makes Iakchos, too, come\nfrom Delphi to the people of Attica. Such a conception has no\nhistorical significance.]\n\n[10\\6: ~I/akchos~ (there clearly distinguished from ~Dio/nusos) t\u00ea=s\nD\u00ea/m\u00eatros dai/m\u00f4n~ is described as ~ho arch\u00eage/t\u00eas t\u00f4=n must\u00eari/\u00f4n~\nin Str. 468 (cf. Ar., _Ran._ 398 f.).]\n\n[11\\6: The ~Iakchei=on~ (Plu., _Arist._ 27. Alciphr. iii, 59, 1).]\n\n[12\\6: Was the birth of Iakchos any part of the spectacle at the\nmysteries? It might be thought so from what we are told by Hippol.,\n_RH._ 5, 8, p. 162 D.-S.: the hierophant ~nukto\\s en Eleusi=ni hupo\\\npoll\u00f4=| puri\\ tel\u00f4=n ta\\ must\u00ea/ria boa=| kai\\ ke/krage le/g\u00f4n;\nhiero\\n e/teke po/tnia kou=ron Brim\u00f4\\ brimo/n~. This statement,\nhowever, suffers from the disadvantage belonging to all information\ngiven by Christian writers on the subject of mysteries when not\nconfirmed by earlier evidence; such information is admissible at\nmost for the actual time of the writer. (Immediately combined with\nthis in Hippol. comes the remarkable assertion that the hierophant\nwas ~eunouchisme/nos dia\\ k\u00f4nei/ou~. Of this Epict. for example (3,\n21, 16) knows nothing, but only speaks of the ~hagnei/a~--probably\nconfined to the time of the festival and its preparation--of the\nhierophant. Still, Jerome, _adv. Jovin._ 1, 49, p. 320 C Vall.,\nspeaks of the cicutae sorbitionis castrari of the hierophant.\nLikewise Serv., _A._ vi, 661.)] {232}\n\n[13\\6: An opportunity of speaking in more detail of Orphic doctrine\nwill occur later on. Here I will only point out in passing that the\nancients themselves never suggested for a moment that Orpheus--the\nmaster of every kind of mysticism--had anything in particular to do\nwith the Eleusinia; as Lob. _Agl._ 239 shows.]\n\n[14\\6: As to the admission of slaves to the Eleusinian initiation\nceremonies K. O. M\u00fcller, _Kl. Schr._ ii, 56, opposes Lobeck (_Agl._\n19) and suggests a doubt. His main objection is that on the great\ninscr. dealing with the regulation of the Eleusinia (_CIA._ i, 1)\n_side by side_ with ~mu/stai kai\\ epo/ptai~ there is mention _also_\nof ~ako/louthoi~ (but not of ~dou=loi~, Ziehen, _Leg. Sacr._\n[Diss.], p. 14 f.)--i.e. presumably slaves, not themselves Mystai,\nbelonging to the ~mu/stai~. But if slaves were initiated that would\nnot prevent there being other slaves, ~ako/louthoi~ of the\n~mu/stai~, uninitiated and not reckoned among the ~mu/stai~. It is\ndefinitely stated on the official record of building expenses at\nEleusis dating from the year 329/8, _CIA._ ii, 834, b, col. 2, 71,\n~mu/\u00easis duoi=n t\u00f4=n d\u00eamosi/\u00f4n~ (the state slaves employed in the\nbuilding operations) ~D D D~ (cf. l. 68). Initiation of the\n~d\u00eamo/sioi~ also in _CIA._ ii, 834 c, 24. On this view, when the\ncomic poet Theophilos (ii, p. 473 K.) makes someone speak of his\n~agap\u00eato\\s despo/t\u00eas~ by whom he ~emu\u00ea/th\u00ea theoi=s~, it will not be\nnecessary to suppose that a freedman (as Meineke, _Com._ 3, 626) is\nspeaking and not a slave.--The generosity implied was all the\ngreater since in many of the most sacred feasts of the gods at\nAthens slaves were expressly excluded: cf. Philo, _Q. omn. Prob._\n20, ii, p. 467 M. Casaubon on Ath., vol. 12, p. 495 Schw.]\n\n[15\\6: Isoc. 4, 28, ~D\u00ea/m\u00eatros ga\\r aphikome/n\u00eas eis t\u00ea\\n ch\u00f4/ran .\n. . kai\\ dou/s\u00eas d\u00f4rea\\s ditta/s, hai/per me/gistai tugcha/nousin\nou=sai, tou/s te karpou\\s kai\\ t\u00ea\\n telet\u00ea/n, . . . hou=t\u00f4s h\u00ea\npo/lis h\u00eam\u00f4=n ou mo/non theophil\u00f4=s alla\\ kai\\ philanthr\u00f4/p\u00f4s\ne/schen, h\u00f4/ste kuri/a genome/n\u00ea tosou/t\u00f4n agath\u00f4=n ouk ephtho/n\u00ease\ntoi=s a/llois, all' h\u00f4=n e/laben _ha/pasi_~ (he means all _Greeks_:\ncf. 157) ~mete/d\u00f4ken~.]\n\n[16\\6: ~muei=n d' ei=nai toi=s ou=si K\u00earu/k\u00f4n kai\\ Eumolpid\u00f4=n~ as\nthe law appoints, _CIA._ i, 1 (more exactly _Supp._ p. 3 f.), ll.\n110-11. Thus the ~mu/\u00easis~ belonged exclusively to the members of\nthe ~ge/n\u00ea~ of the Eumolpidai and Kerykes (but to all the members,\nnot merely those serving as officers at the particular festival\nconcerned). Cf. Dittenberger, _Hermes_, 20, 31 f. The Emperor\nHadrian, in order to be able to hold the festival in a more\nsumptuous manner, had himself made ~a/rch\u00f4n~ of the ~Eumolpid\u00f4=n\nge/nos~, having already been made a member of that ~ge/nos~: ins.\nfrom Eleusis, _Ath. Mitt._ 1894, p. 172.--There is no reference to\nthe Eleusinia in what is said about the ~muei=n~ of a priestess\nbelonging to the family of the Phyllidai in Phot. ~Phillei=dai~: see\nT\u00f6pffer, _Att. Geneal._ 92.--The exx. of ~mu/\u00easis~ collected by\nLobeck (_Agl._ 28 ff.) do not contradict this law: in the case of\nLysias who ~hupe/scheto mu\u00ea/sein~ the hetaira Metaneira [D.] 59, 21,\n~muei=n~ merely means defray the cost of initiation (quite correctly\nexplained by M\u00fcller, review of _Aglaoph._, _Kl. Schr._ ii, 56). So,\ntoo, in the case of Theoph. (ii, p. 473 K.) ~emu\u00ea/th\u00ean theoi=s~,\ni.e. at the expense of my master.]\n\n[17\\6: The ~pro/rr\u00easis~ of the Basileus and the proclamations of the\nhierophant and dadouchos excluded all ~andropho/noi~ from those\ntaking part in the mysteries: Lob., _Agl._ 15. They were also, it is\ntrue, excluded from all other sacred rites: Lob. 17. Even ~toi=s en\naiti/a|~ the Archon gave warning ~ape/chesthai must\u00eari/\u00f4n kai\\ t\u00f4=n\na/ll\u00f4n nomi/m\u00f4n~ (Poll. 8, 90): in fact, the person accused of\nmurder was in any case, as \"unclean\", excluded from _all_ ~no/mima~:\nAntipho, vi, 36 (in _AB._ 310, 8 read ~nomi/m\u00f4n~).] {233}\n\n[18\\6: ~_ho/sioi_ mu/stai~, Ar., _Ran._ 336. (So, too, the Mystai of\nthe Orphic mysteries are called ~hoi ho/sioi~: Pl., _Rp._ 363 C;\nOrph., _H._ 84, 3.) ~ho/sios~ is probably here used in its primitive\nsense = \"clean\" (~ho/siai chei=res~, etc.). [Pl.] _Axioch._ 371 D\nrefers to ~ta\\s hosi/ous agchistei/as~ of the Eleus. Mystai. In the\nsame way ~hosiou=n~ was used of ritual purification and expiation:\n~phugai=sin hosiou=n~ the murder, E., _Or._ 515; ~hosiou=n~ the\nreturned homicide, D. 23, 73; (of the Bacchic mysteries ~ba/kchos\nekl\u00ea/th\u00ean hosi\u00f4thei/s~, E. _fr._ 472, 15). Thus the ~ho/sioi~ are\nidentical with the _~kekatharme/noi~_ as the initiated are called:\nPl. _Phd._ 69 C, and frequently. It would be hazardous to suppose\nthat the Mystai called themselves ~ho/sioi~ as the _only_ pious and\nrighteous people (though that is what ~ho/sios a/nthr\u00f4pos~ and the\nlike mean elsewhere). Their spiritual self-satisfaction hardly went\nas far as that, and indeed they did not ascribe so much _personal_\nmerit to themselves at all.]\n\n[19\\6: In a solemn announcement of the Keryx as it seems: the latter\nacc. to Sopater ~diai/r. z\u00eat\u00eam.~ (Walz, _Rhet. Gr._ viii, 118, 24\nf.) ~d\u00eamosi/a| epita/ttei t\u00ea\\n si\u00f4p\u00ea/n~ at the commencement of the\nsacred ritual.]\n\n[20\\6: ~ta\\ must\u00ea/ria poiei=n~, Andoc., _Myst._ 11-12.--The more\nclearly descriptive expression, ~exorchei=sthai ta\\ must\u00ea/ria~ does\nnot seem to occur before Aristides, Lucian, and the latter's\nimitator Alciphron. [Lys.] 6, 51: ~hou=tos endu\\s stol\u00ea/n,\nmimou/menos ta\\ hiera\\ **epedei/knue toi=s amu\u00ea/tois kai\\ ei=pe t\u00ea=|\nph\u00f4n\u00ea=| ta\\ apo/rr\u00eata~. The ~apor.~ thus divulged were the sacred\nformul\u00e6 uttered by the hierophant.]\n\n[21\\6: At least in later ages there was plenty to hear: ~eis\nepha/millon kate/st\u00ea tai=s akoai=s ta\\ hor\u00f4/mena~, Aristid.,\n_Eleus._ I, 415 Di. [ii, 28 Ke.]. We frequently hear of the\nbeautiful voices of the hierophants, of ~hu/mnoi~ ringing out, etc.]\n\n[22\\6: The well-known statements of Pindar, Sophokles, Isokrates,\nKrinagoras, Cicero, and others are collected by Lobeck, _Agl._ 69\nff. There is a reminiscence of Isocr. in Aristid. _Eleus._ I 421 Di.\n[ii, 30 Ke.] ~alla\\ m\u00ea\\n to/ ge ke/rdos t\u00ea=s pan\u00eagu/re\u00f4s ouch ho/son\nh\u00ea parou=sa euthumi/a . . . alla\\ kai\\ peri\\ t\u00ea=s teleut\u00ea=s h\u00eadi/ous\ne/chein ta\\s elpi/das~. id. _Panath._ I, 302 Di. ~ta\\s arr\u00ea/tous\nteleta\\s h\u00f4=n toi=s metaschou=si kai\\ meta\\ t\u00ea=n tou= bi/ou\nteleut\u00ea\\n belti/\u00f4 ta\\ pra/gmata gi/gnesthai dokei=~. Cf. also\nWelcker's account, _Gr. G\u00f6tterl._ ii, 519 ff., in which, however,\nthere is a good deal mixed up which has nothing to do with the\nmysteries.]\n\n[23\\6: That is, in the time of still vital religion and in the\ncircles which still retained an unspoilt feeling for it. Apart from\nthese it is true that the allegorical interpretation of myths was\nalready familiar in antiquity, and in learned circles the gods and\nthe stories of the gods were transformed and disintegrated ~eis\npneu/mata kai\\ rheu/mata kai\\ spo/rous kai\\ aro/tous kai\\ pa/th\u00ea\ng\u00ea=s kai\\ metabola\\s h\u00f4r\u00f4=n~ as Plutarch complains, _Is. et O._ 66,\np. 377 D. These allegorical interpreters from Anaxagoras and\nMetrodoros onwards are the real ancestors of our modern \"nature\"\nmythologists. No one doubts, however, that from their\ninterpretations nothing can be learnt except what the real sense of\nGreek belief in the gods certainly was _not_. It is worth noticing\nthat Prodikos, because he said that ~h\u00ea/lion kai\\ sel\u00ea/n\u00ean kai\\\npotamou\\s kai\\ leim\u00f4=nas kai\\ karpou\\s kai\\ pa=n to\\ toiout\u00f4=des~\nwere the real essence of the Greek gods, was looked upon as one of\nthe ~a/theoi~ (S.E., _M._ 9, 51-2 = B 5 Diels). Quam tandem\nreligionem reliquit? asks the Greek whom Cicero is reproducing in\n_ND._ i, 118, with reference to this ancient prophet of Greek\n\"nature-religion\".--For the ancient allegorists Persephone, too, is\nnothing but ~to\\ dia\\ t\u00f4=n karp\u00f4=n phero/menon pneu=ma~ (so\nKleanthes: Plu. as above). Acc. to Varro Persephone \"means\"\nfecunditatem seminum, {234} carried off by Orcus on the occasion of\nsome crop-failure, etc. (Aug., _CD._ vii, 20). In Porph. ap. Eus.,\n_PE._ 3, 11, 7-9. we actually have the very interpretation which has\nbeen recently restored to so much favour--that ~Ko/r\u00ea~ is nothing\nelse but a (feminine) personification of ~ko/ros~ = young plant,\nshoot.]\n\n[24\\6: A hint of such an explanation occurs in Sallustius, _de Dis_\niv, ~kata\\ t\u00ea\\n enanti/an is\u00eameri/an~ (i.e. the autumnal) ~h\u00ea t\u00ea=s\nKo/r\u00eas harpag\u00ea\\ **muthologei=tai gene/sthai; ho\\ d\u00ea\\ ka/thodo/s hesti\nt\u00f4=n psuch\u00f4=n~ (from the standpoint of this Neoplatonist at any rate\nthe analogy might be carried through). So, too, Sopater ~diai/r.\nz\u00eat.~ in Walz, _Rh. Gr._ viii, 115, 3, speaks of ~to\\ t\u00ea=s psuch\u00ea=s\npro\\s to\\ thei=on suggene/s~ as if it were confirmed in the\n(Eleusinian) mysteries.]\n\n[25\\6: It may be mentioned here by anticipation that a real doctrine\nof the indestructibility of the human soul was first traditionally\nattributed in antiquity to the Greek philosophers such as Thales or\nto the _theosophoi_ such as Pherekydes (and Pythagoras too). In what\nsense this can be regarded as true we shall learn in the course of\nour inquiry. The mysteries of Eleusis, from which many modern\ncritics would like to derive the belief in immortality among the\nGreeks, are mentioned by no ancient authority as among the sources\nof that belief or of such a doctrine. In which they were quite\nright.]\n\n[26\\6: Soph. _fr._ 753 N. [791 P.] ~h\u00f4s tri\\s o/lbioi kei=noi\nbrot\u00f4=n, hoi\\ tau=ta derchthe/ntes te/l\u00ea mo/l\u00f4s' es Ha/idou; toi=sde\nga\\r mo/nois ekei= z\u00ea=n e/sti, toi=s d' a/lloisi pa/nt' ekei=\nkaka/~.]\n\n[27\\6: The privileged position of the initiated is exhibited with\nstriking vigour in the well-known outburst of Diogenes: ~ti/\nle/geis, e/ph\u00ea, krei/ttona moi=ran he/xei Pataiki/\u00f4n ho kle/pt\u00eas\napothan\u00f4\\n \u00ea\\ Epamein\u00f4/ndas, ho/ti memu/\u00eatai?~ Plu., _Aud. Poet._\niv, p. 21 F; D.L. vi, 39; Jul., _Or._ vii, 238 A (p. 308 Hert.).--A\nhomiletic application of Diogenes' saying is made by Philo, _Vict.\nOff._ 12, ii, p. 261 M. ~sumbai/nei polla/kis t\u00f4=n me\\n agath\u00f4=n\nandr\u00f4=n m\u00eade/na muei=sthai, l\u00ea|sta\\s de\\ e/stin ho/te kai\\\nkatapontista\\s kai\\ gunaik\u00f4=n thia/sous bdelukt\u00f4=n kai\\ akola/st\u00f4n,\nepa\\n argu/rion para/sch\u00f4si toi=s teloi=si kai\\ hierophantou=si~.\nCf. _Spec. Leg._ 3, 7, i, p. 306 M.]\n\n[28\\6: Of this nature were the ~hiera/~ which the hierophant\n\"showed\" and the other things that were employed in the festival:\npictures of gods, relics, and paraphernalia of all sorts (e.g. the\n~ki/st\u00ea~ and the ~ka/lathos~: O. Jahn, _Hermes_, 3, 327 f.): see\nLob., _Agl._ 51-62.]\n\n[29\\6: Preller, for example (stimulated by K. O. M\u00fcller), is fond of\ndwelling on the special character and meaning of the worship of the\nchthonic deities as something quite distinct from other Greek\nworships of the gods. An example may be found in Pauly-Wissowa^1,\ns.v. _Eleusis_, iii, p. 108: \"The department of religion to which\nthe Eleusinian cult belongs is that of the chthonic deities, which\nhad been indigenous in Greece from the earliest times and was a\nwidely popular cultus. In this cultus ideas of the generous\nfruitfulness of the earth's soil and of the fruitfulness of\ndeath--whose seat seems to be beneath the earth like the Old\nTestament Sheol--were interwoven in a mysteriously suggestive way: a\nway which essentially resisted all efforts at clear and distinct\ncomprehension, and could not help leading to mystical or occult\nsuggestions and obscure symbolistic expression.\" This and further\namplifications in the same sense all rest upon the unprovable axiom\nthat the activities of the ~chtho/nioi~ as gods of the soil and as\ngods of the kingdom of the souls were \"interwoven\": the suggestive\nhaze of the rest follows naturally. But what in all this is Greek?]\n\n[30\\6: ~h\u00ea kru/psis h\u00ea mustik\u00ea\\ t\u00f4=n hier\u00f4=n semnopoiei= to\\\nthei=on, mimoume/n\u00ea t\u00ea\\n phu/sin autou= pheu/gousan h\u00eam\u00f4=n t\u00ea\\n\nai/sth\u00easin~. Str. 467.] {235}\n\n[31\\6: In fact the ancient allegorical interpretations of the\nmysteries differed widely among themselves: Lob., _Agl._\n136-40.--Even Galen attributed an allegorical sense to the mysteries\nof Eleusis, but he thinks ~_amudra\\_ ekei=na pro\\s e/ndeixin h\u00f4=n\nspeu/dei dida/skein~ (iv, p. 361 K.). This cannot have been true of\nthe assurances given to the Mystai of a blessed future in Hades.]\n\n[32\\6: Such proclamations may have occurred in the ~hieropha/ntou\nrh\u00ea/seis~ (Sop. ~diai/r. z\u00eat.~ Walz, viii, 123, 29; cf. Lob., _Agl._\n189).]\n\n[33\\6: Lob., _Agl._ 52, 58 f.]\n\n[34\\6: No one says anything of any kind of moral obligation\nundertaken by the Mystai or of any consequent moral influence of the\nfestival: not even Andokides in whose warnings addressed to the\ncollege of judges composed of Mystai (_Myst._ 31) the words ~hi/na\ntim\u00f4r\u00ea/s\u00eate me\\n tou\\s asebou=ntas ktl.~ are not to be taken with\nthe previous ~memu/\u00easthe kai\\ he\u00f4ra/kate toi=n theoi=n ta\\ hiera/~\nbut with ~hoi/tines ho/rkous mega/lous ktl., kai\\ arasa/menoi ktl.~\nHe speaks, in fact, of the moral obligation of the jury who have\ntaken the oath, as _judges_ not as Mystai. In Ar., _Ran._, 455 ff.,\nthe words ~ho/soi memu\u00ea/metha~ stand loosely side by side with\n~euseb\u00ea= di\u00ea/gomen tro/pon peri\\ tou\\s xe/nous kai\\ tou\\s idi\u00f4/tas~.\n(Of the Samothrakian mysteries Diodoros says, 5, 49, 6: ~gi/nesthai\nde/ phasi kai\\ eusebeste/rous kai\\ dikaiote/rous kai\\ kata\\ pa=n\nbelti/onas heaut\u00f4=n tou\\s t\u00f4=n must\u00eari/\u00f4n koin\u00f4n\u00ea/santas~--as it\nseems without effort on their part by a pure act of grace.)]\n\n[35\\6: Formal or verbal instruction of a theological or moral kind\nwas not supplied at Eleusis; so much may be stated without fear of\ncontradiction since the work of Lobeck. Thus, the three commandments\nof Triptolemos, which acc. to Xenokrates ~diame/nousi Eleusi=ni~\n(Porph., _Abs._ 4, 22) cannot be regarded as moral precepts\nproclaimed at the mysteries: indeed, there is nothing to lead one to\nconclude that they had anything to do with the mystery festival at\nEleusis. In character these very simple precepts seem related to the\nlaws of Bouzyges, with whom Triptolemos is sometimes confused\n(Haupt, _Opusc._ iii, 505) and were very likely, like them, recited\nat some agricultural festival. Supposing further that the third\n\"law\" of Triptolemos: ~z\u00f4=|a m\u00ea\\ si/nesthai~ was really (as Xenokr.\nseems to have understood it) intended to recommend a complete\n~apoch\u00ea\\ empsu/ch\u00f4n~, then it certainly cannot have been proclaimed\nat the Eleusinia (though this is what Dieterich thinks happened,\n_Nekyia_, 165). It is surely unthinkable that the Mystai at Eleusis\nwere, after the Orphic model, absolutely forbidden to eat flesh for\nthe rest of their lives. It remains a possibility that the precept\nhad quite a different meaning--it does not definitely speak of the\nkilling of animals--and that it belongs to some simple farmer's\nfestival (not to the great festival of Eleusis, but rather, e.g. the\nHaloa) at which the farmer was recommended to spare his live stock\n(just as the third of the three laws of Demonassa at Cyprus forbade\nthe farmer ~m\u00ea\\ apoktei=nai bou=n aro/trion~, D. Chr. 64, 3 [329 R.,\n148 Arn.]; Attic law ap. Ael. _VH._ 5, 14, etc.).--In any case to\nbring all this into connexion with the mystery festival of Eleusis\nis absolutely without justification.]\n\n\n{{236}}\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nIDEAS OF THE FUTURE LIFE\n\n\nCertain allusions in Plutarch and Lucian[1\\7] would lead us to\nsuppose that the \"mystery-drama\" of Eleusis included also a visual\nexhibition of the underworld and its blest, or unblest, inhabitants.\nBut these contemporaries of a final and luxuriant flowering of\nmystery-religions of every kind can serve as reliable witnesses only\nfor their own period. In their day the Eleusinian festival, in\ncompetition it may be with other secret worships which were invading\nthe Greco-Roman world in ever-increasing numbers, seems to have\nundergone a considerable alteration and extension of its primitive\nand traditional shape. We may doubt whether in earlier, classical\ntimes the Eleusinia can have attempted to bind the imagination with\nwhat were always petty details, or confine within formal limits what\nlay beyond all human experience. Still the solemn promise of future\nblessedness made in the mystic festival may, at any rate, have\nstimulated the imagination of its worshippers and given a more\ndefinite turn to their own natural efforts to picture the life to\ncome. The ideas cultivated at Eleusis unmistakably contributed to\nthe process by which the picture of Hades acquired colour and\ndistinctness. Even without such stimulus, the natural instinct of\nthe Greeks at all periods to give form even to what was essentially\nformless, worked in the same direction. The limits set by Homeric\nbeliefs about the future world had made the Odyssean description of\na descent to Hades seem a risky experiment only to be undertaken\nwith the greatest caution. Now, however, since the re-establishment\nof the belief in a conscious after-life of the disembodied soul,\nsuch imaginative bodyings-forth of the invisible realm of shadows\nhad become apparently the most natural and innocent employment of\npoetic fancy.\n\nThe story of Odysseus' journey to Hades and its expansion in\nconformity with the gradually increasing distinctness with which the\nlife after death was conceived, was followed at an early period in\nthe development of Epic poetry by further accounts of such journeys\nundertaken by other heroes. A Hesiodic poem described the descent of\nTheseus and Peiritho\u00f6s to the underworld.[2\\7] A Nekyia, the details\nof which are unknown, occurred in the poem of the _Return_ of the\nheroes {237} from Troy. The epic which went by the name of the\n\"Minyas\" seems to have given considerable space to a descent to\nHades.[3\\7] The ancient fable of Herakles' descent to Hades and\nconflicts in the underworld received embellishment at more than one\npoet's hand.[4\\7] As a result of such repeated and rival\ninterpretations of the story the stock of characters and events\nassociated with Hades was gradually and continually being enlarged.\nAccident has preserved to us the fact about the little-known\n_Minyas_ that it, too, added to the details of the picture. To what\nextent popular imagination and mythology, on the one hand, and\npoetic inventiveness, on the other, may have been responsible for\nall this we can hardly say. It seems probable that here, as in the\ndevelopment of so many Greek myths, on the whole the balance of\ninvention lay on the side of the poets. Purely poetic visions or\npictures like that of the _translation_ of individual heroes to\nElysium may have gradually won their way to popular acceptance.\n\"Dearest Harmodios,\" said the Athenian Skolion, \"thou art not dead\nindeed, but livest yet, men say, in the Islands of the Blest.\" Not\nthat there was anything fixed or dogmatic on the point. In a funeral\noration Hyperides represents Leosthenes and his companions in battle\nas meeting in Hades, among the illustrious dead, the Tyrannicides,\nHarmodios and Aristogeiton.[5\\7]\n\nMuch that may have been the invention of poets for the filling up or\nfurnishing of the desert region so stamped itself upon the general\nmind that it almost seemed the natural growth of authentic popular\nbelief. Everyone was familiar with the guardian of the gate of\nPlouton, the malignant hound of Hades who admits everyone but lets\nno one out again. He is the same creature, long known from the\nadventure of Herakles, which is already named Kerberos by\nHesiod.[6\\7] Like the gate and the gate-keeper, the waters that\ndivide Erebos from the world of the living are already known to\nHomer. Now they have a Ferryman added to them, the churlish old man\nCharon, who, like a second Kerberos, safely transports everyone\nacross the water, but lets no one return.[7\\7] The _Minyas_ is the\nfirst to mention him: that he became a real figure of popular belief\n(as he is still in Greece to this day, though with altered\nsignificance is shown by pictures on the Attic vases that were put\ninto the graves with the dead. These represent the soul as it stands\nupon the sedgy bank and meets the ferryman who will carry it over to\nthe other side whence no man returns.[8\\7] The custom of burying the\ndead with a small coin fixed between the teeth was also explained as\nprovision for the passage-money that would have to be paid to\nCharon.[9\\7] {238}\n\n\u00a7 2\n\nThe soul, then, being safely arrived on the other bank and Kerberos\npassed by--what awaited it there? Those who had been initiated into\nthe mysteries now counted upon enjoying the glad future that their\nhopes had formerly pictured. In reality this blessed future,\nvouchsafed by the grace of the deities who rule below, was not very\nhard to obtain. So many were initiated and recommended to divine\nfavour that the picture of Hades, once so gloomy, began to assume a\nmore genial aspect. Quite early we meet with the general name of\n\"Blessedness\" as applied to the future life; while the dead without\nmuch distinction are called the \"Blessed\".[10\\7]\n\nOf course, anyone who had been so foolish as to neglect or despise\ninitiation has \"not the same fate below\", as the _Hymn to Demeter_\ndiscreetly puts it. Only the initiated have life, says Sophokles:\nthe uninitiated, with whom it goes ill in the land below, can hardly\nhave been thought of otherwise than as floating in the glimmering\nhalf-life of the shadows in the Homeric Erebos. Well-meaning modern\nefforts to read a moral meaning into things Greek have sought to\nprove that the Greeks, too, had a genuine popular belief in a future\njudgment and recompense for the past deeds and character of the\ndead. Homer makes hardly the most distant allusion to such a belief.\nThe perjurer alone suffers in Homer the punishment at the hands of\nthe gods of the underworld which he had invoked upon himself in his\noath. Even the \"Sinners\" and their punishment which later imitation\nadded to the story of Odysseus' Journey to Hades, considered without\nprejudice, do not support the opinion that Homeric poetry knew of a\nbelief in retribution hereafter. Later poets were only following\nthis model when they made other enemies of the gods endure eternal\npunishment in Hades--Thamyris, for example, or Amphion (as the\n_Minyas_ related), and later Ixion in particular.[11\\7] All this\ndoes not, even in the slightest degree, suggest a general belief in\nfuture rewards and punishment. Of course, there is the judgment that\nis given in Hades by \"One\" according to Pindar (_Ol._ ii, 65), but\nthis occurs in connexion with a description of the \"last things\"\nwhich the poet has borrowed from the teachings of mystic\nseparatists. Aeschylus[12\\7] knows of a judgment pronounced by Hades\nhimself; but his thoughts about divine retribution both on earth and\nhereafter are derived from his own religious temperament which was\nentirely opposed to the popular beliefs of his day and more inclined\nto accept the speculative doctrines of the theologians. The {239}\nfirst precise account of the three judges in Hades, Minos,\nRhadamanthys, and Aiakos, who judge the deeds of men done in their\nlifetime upon earth occurs in Plato in a description of the other\nworld which reproduces anything rather than the popular beliefs of\nthe time.[13\\7] Later on, the picture of the judges in Hades (to\nwhom Triptolemos was also added),[14\\7] like many other details of\nthe Platonic eschatological myths, became a real part of popular\nfancy, as allusions in later literature and even, perhaps, pictures\nof the underworld on vase-paintings from Southern Italy, bear\nwitness. But the idea that in the supreme period of Greek culture\nthe belief in a judgment and judges in Hades, who passed sentence on\nthe deeds of men done on earth, had really any root in popular\nbelief, is quite unproved and can be shown to be erroneous from the\nargument _ex silentio_. And where there are no judges no judgment\ncan take place.\n\nWe often see it asserted that the belief in a future state of\ncompensation for the good and evil deeds of this world was obtained\nby the Greeks from the Eleusinian mysteries. In reality the opposite\nis true; if and in so far as the Greeks ever received or entertained\nsuch a belief in future rewards and punishments the mysteries of\nEleusis had nothing whatever to do with the matter. We have only to\nremember the simple fact that the Eleusinian mysteries admitted to\ninitiation, with the single exception of those stained by the crime\nof murder, Greeks of all sorts without any inquiry into their past\nlife and actions, or even their character. The initiated were\npromised a blessed life hereafter; a gloomy fate awaited the\nuninitiated. The difference was not made by goodness or badness;\n\"Pataikion the thief will have a better fate after his death because\nhe has been initiated at Eleusis than Agesilaos or Epameinondas\"\nsneered Diogenes the Cynic. Not political or moral worth but\n\"spiritual\" merit alone is decisive. Nor will anyone be very\nsurprised at that. It is so in most religions. But in any case, the\nidea of a sentence passed on virtue or vice in Hades had been\nforestalled by the system of rewards and punishments in the lower\nworld which the mysteries had already formulated from quite a\ndifferent point of view. Where the mysteries were seriously and\nconscientiously taken they would rather have thrown their weight\ninto the scales against any such idea, if it began to make itself\nfelt, of compensation for good and evil deeds in Hades; they\ncertainly contained nothing that fostered such a belief.\n\nNo doubt in the long run, among a spiritually alert people, {240}\nthe morality inculcated by religion allied itself freely and without\nreluctance to the morality of the citizen in its independent\ndevelopment. Only in this way could the former maintain its\nascendancy. Thus, in the minds of many of the Greeks the idea of\nreligious justification (through the mysteries) may have lent its\nsupport to the idea of civic just dealing; and, at the same time,\nthe company of the unblest who had neglected the sacred mysteries\nand their future salvation as well, was increased by the not\nunimportant body of those who receive the wages of sin in Hades and\nexpiate their crimes against the gods, the family, and the civil\nsociety of men. Those who have taken a false oath, parricides,\nviolators of the laws of hospitality are made by Aristophanes (in\nthe _Frogs_) to \"lie in the mud\"--a form of penalty originally\nanticipated for the uninitiated in some Orphic private mysteries,\nbut now transferred by him to those guilty of moral\nmisdemeanours.[15\\7] The inconsistency with the promises made in the\nmysteries themselves involved in such conceptions may have been the\nless observed just because the idea of a future system of\ncompensation in accordance with the requirements of morality was\nnever seriously or fully developed, but remained merely a matter of\nvague suggestion. In circumstances of real need that ideal never\nsatisfied anyone in Greece. Men expected to see the retributive\npower of the gods visibly active upon earth; those in whom\nexperience weakened this belief would not have derived much comfort\nfrom the idea of compensation hereafter. Everyone knows the typical\ncase of Diagoras, the \"Atheist\".[16\\7]\n\n\u00a7 3\n\nThe picturing of the future life, however seriously it might be\ncarried on by adherents of certain mystical sects, remained for the\npoets and the public at Athens in the fifth century little more than\nan amusement of idle fancy in which a man might indulge his own whim\nwith perfect freedom. The comic poets from Pherekrates onwards\nregarded a Descent into the Unknown country as a suitable framework\nfor a burlesque play.[17\\7] According to their fancy a Paradise,\nlike that of the golden age on earth when Kronos still ruled,\nawaited the \"Blessed\" in the world below;[18\\7] a \"City of\nDelight\"[19\\7] such as men hoped to meet with at the ends of the\nworld, or even somewhere upon the real world. It is from a comedy,\nthe _Frogs_ of Aristophanes, in connexion with the Descent to Hades\nof a typical commonplace Athenian citizen, who for the time being\nplays the part of Dionysos, that we get a clearer outline of the\ngeography of the lower regions. Beyond {241} the Acherousian Sea\nwith its cross-grained ferryman dwell snakes and monsters of all\nkinds. Having passed by the darkness and putrescence of the slough\nin which wallow perjurers and those who have committed crimes\nagainst father or stranger, the way leads to the palace of Plouton,\nnear which lives the chorus of those who have been initiated into\nthe mysteries. For them even in Hades the sun dispenses a brilliant\nlight; they dance in myrtle groves and sing to the sound of the\nflute hymns of praise to the gods of the underworld.[20\\7] A\nseparation of the inhabitants of the lower regions into two classes\nas taught by the mysteries, is here also carried through: at least\nclear consciousness is implied in the case of the Mystai which in\nitself marks clearly the change which has taken place since the\nNekyia of the Odyssey. Then there are other regions in Hades besides\nthe places where the initiated and the impious dwell. There is a\nreference to the plain of Lethe,[21\\7] and to the place where Oknos\nis plaiting the rope which his she-ass gnaws to pieces as fast as he\nplaits it. This is a parody, half humorous, half pathetic, of the\nHomeric figures of Sisyphos and Tantalos; a sort of bourgeois\ncounterpart of that Homeric aristocracy of the enemies of heaven,\nwhose punishment, as Goethe remarked, is a type of ever-unrewarded\nlabour. But, we may ask, what had honest Oknos done to deserve this\nfate of eternally fruitless toil? He is only a man like other men,\nbut he \"typifies all human endeavour.\" That anyone could have\nintroduced such quaint inventions of innocent humour into the realm\nof Hades shows how far all this was from theological seriousness.\n\n\u00a7 4\n\nWe ought to be able to observe the change which had come over the\nconception of the future life since the days of Homer from a\nconsideration of the picture of the Underworld which Polygnotos of\nThasos painted on one of the walls of the Hall of the Knidians at\nDelphi. The details of this picture are precisely known to us from\nthe account given by Pausanias. The first impression that we get\nfrom it is the extraordinary vagueness and undeveloped state of the\nmythology of the underworld at this period, about the middle of the\nfifth century. On the wall was represented the questioning of\nTeiresias by Odysseus; the companies of heroes, the men and women of\npoetry, occupied the greater part of the space. The divine judgment\nof heaven was illustrated by the figures of the Homeric \"Sinners\",\nTityos, Tantalos, and Sisyphos. Outside the ranks of the Heroic\ncompany is Oknos and his {212} she-ass. But where is the reward of\nvirtue, the punishment of wickedness? In expiation of the worst\nexcesses, those committed against gods and parents, a temple-robber\nreceives a cup of poison from a sorceress,[22\\7] and an undutiful\nson is being choked by his own father.[23\\7] Apart from these\nevil-doers are the \"uninitiated\", those who have made light of the\nEleusinian mysteries. Because they have missed the \"completion\" of\nthe initiation they are now forced, men and women, to pour water\nfrom broken pitchers into a (perforated) jar in ever-unavailing\nendeavour.[24\\7] There is no sign anywhere of a judge who should\nseparate the souls into two classes; and of the monsters of the\nunderworld there only appears the corpse-devouring daimon Eurynomos\nwho must have been known to the artist from some local legend.[25\\7]\nOf the reward of the \"virtuous\" there is not a trace, and even the\nhopes of the initiated in the mysteries are only vaguely alluded to\nin the casket which Kleoboia, as she crosses the river in Charon's\nboat with Tellis, is holding on her knee.[26\\7] This is a symbol of\nthe sacred mysteries of Demeter which Kleoboia once brought from\nParos to Thasos, the home of Polygnotos.\n\nWith this series of pictures, hardly altered at all from\nHomer,[27\\7] contrast for a moment the scenes of torment represented\nin Etruscan pictures of the Underworld, or the pedantic details of\nthe trial of the dead on the day of judgment as the Egyptians\nelaborated them in picture and writing. From such gloomy severity,\nfrom the rigid and overpowering dogmatism that a people without\nimagination had constructed for itself out of religious speculations\nand visions won by much labour and thought, the Greeks were\nfortunately preserved by their own genius. Their fancy is a winged\ngod whose nature it is to pass lightly over things--not to fall\nheavily to earth and there remain ponderously prostrate. Nor were\nthey very susceptible during their best centuries to the infectious\nmalady of a \"sick conscience\". What had they to do with pictures of\nan underworld of purgatory and torment in expiation of all imaginary\ntypes and degrees of sin, as in Dante's ghastly Hell? It is true\nthat even such dark fancies of the Christian Hell are in part\nderived from Greek sources. But it was only the misguided fancy of\nparticular isolated sects that could call forth such pictures as\nthese, and recommend itself to a philosophic speculation which in\nits worst excesses violently contradicted all the most fundamental\nprinciples of Greek culture. The people and the religion of Greece,\nthe mysteries which her cities organized and deemed holy, may be\nfreely acquitted of all such aberrations.\n\n\nNOTES TO CHAPTER VII\n\n\n[1\\7: Plu. (the MSS. wrongly give Themistios) _de An. fr._ 6 ap.\nStob., _Fl._ iv, 52 b, 48 H. = p. 107, 27 ff. Mein.; Luc., _Catapl._\n23.]\n\n[2\\7: Paus. 9, 31, 5.]\n\n[3\\7: The remains in Kinkel, _Frag. Epic._ i, 215 ff. This ~Minua/s~\nwas identified by K. O. M\u00fcller, _Orchom_^2., p. 12, with the Orphic\n~kata/basis eis Ha/idou~, and this suggestion has been followed,\nthough with hesitation, even by Lobeck, _Agl._ 360, 373. It rests\nsolely on the fact that the Orphic ~kata/basis~ was very doubtfully\nascribed according to Clemens to Prodikos of Samos, according to\nSuidas to Herodikos of Perinthos (or to Kerkops, or to Orpheus of\nKamarina); while the Minyas, according to Paus. 4, 33, 7, was very\ndoubtfully ascribed to Prodikos of Phokaia. M\u00fcller first identified\nProdikos of Samos with Herodikos of Perinthos, and then both of them\nwith Prodikos of Phokaia. The justification of such a procedure is\nby no means \"self-evident\" and the identification--entirely\ndepending upon this quite arbitrary view--of the Orphic ~kata/basis\neis Ha/idou~ with the Minyas is in the last degree hazardous. Such\nan alternative title to an ancient narrative poem can only be\ndefended by fictitious and quite untenable parallels. The name\n~Minua/s~ has no parallel in Orphic literature, and suggests rather\na poem dealing with heroic adventure in which the Nekyia would only\nbe an episode. If we are to believe in the double title we require\nat least to be told how the name (Minyas) could possibly have been\ngiven to a poem whose contents as implied by the title ~kata/basis\neis Ha/idou~ plainly consisted in a descent to Hades--made by\nOrpheus himself (as Lobeck also understands, p. 373). Besides,\neverything we learn about the Nekyia of the Minyas differs widely\nfrom the temper and doctrine of Orphism, which should have\nmanifested themselves very distinctly in such a vision of the life\nto come. Nor is anything from the Minyas given elsewhere under the\nname of Orpheus, like so many of the details of underworld\nmythology. There is nothing to suggest that it was Orpheus who\nsought the _atra atria Ditis_: an unprejudiced interpretation of\n_fr._ 1 (ap. Paus. 10, 28, 2) would suggest that it was rather\nTheseus and Peirithoos whose descent to Hades supplied the framework\nfor the Hades episode in the poem. There is then not the slightest\njustification for including the Minyas in the list of Orphic poems\nor for citing what is known of its contents as Orphic mythological\ndoctrine (which last Lobeck himself did not do: he knew too well the\nreal nature and meaning of Orphism). Cf. D\u00fcmmler, _Delphika_, p. 19\n(Bas. 1894).]\n\n[4\\7: Allusions in the Iliad and Odyssey presuppose the existence of\nan old poem on the journey to Hades of Herakles: how he was\ncommissioned by Eurystheus, conducted by Athene (and Hermes), went\ndown below and wounded Hades himself and carried off the dog of\nHades. Many hands must subsequently have taken part in filling in\nthe details of the adventure: we cannot, however, definitely name\nthe poet who gave its final form and character to the whole. As far\nas the individual features of the poem are known to us (esp. from\nthe survey given in [Apollod.], 2, 12. _Myth. Gr._, 2, 122 ff. W.,\ncombining both early and late mythological characteristics), they\nare rather the features of a vigorous story of heroic adventure,\nfull of movement and tending to the gruesome and the\nextravagant--not of a static or {244} tranquil narrative that would\nallow of the calm reception of pictures illustrating the quiet\nordinary life and events of frequent occurrence in the mysterious\nworld of darkness. In this respect the ~kata/basis~ of Herakles in\nits traditional form must have differed noticeably from the Nekyia\nin ~l~, as well as from the Minyas. In fact, not one of the fabulous\ndetails current in later times about Hades can be traced back to a\ndescription in the Herakles adventure (even \"Kerberos\" seems to have\ngot his name elsewhere.]\n\n[5\\7: Hyperides, _Epit._ \u00a7 35-9 = p. 92 f. (Blass^3): Leosthenes\nwill meet ~en Ha/idou~ the Heroes of the Trojan war, the Persian\nwar, and also Harmodios and Aristogeiton. This is a stereotyped\nrhetorical idea: cf. Pl., _Ap._ 41 A-C. An epigram from Knossos on a\nCretan who has distinguished himself in a cavalry battle (_BCH._\n1889, p. 60, ll. 1-2, after Simon., _Ep._ 99, 3-4 Bgk.), ll. 9-10:\n~tou/neka/ se phthime/n\u00f4n kath' hom\u00ea/gurin ho kluto\\s Ha/d\u00eas i/se\npolissou/ch\u00f4| su/nthronon Idomenei=~.]\n\n[6\\7: Kerberos is first named in Hes., _Th._ 311, and he is the same\nhound of Hades which Homer knows and leaves unnamed, as Hesiod does,\n_Th._ 769 ff. According to this account he admits everyone, fawning\nabout them and wagging his tail: but anyone who tries to slip out of\nHades again he devours. That Kerberos inspires terror in those who\nenter Hades is therefore a conception of later ages (when his name\nwas sometimes derived from the fact that he ~ta\\s k\u00ea=ras, ho\\ d\u00ealoi=\nta\\s psucha/s, e/chei bora/n~: Porph. ap. Eus., _PE._ 3, 11, 11, p.\n110 A, etc.): the superstitious are afraid ~t\u00f4=| Kerbe/r\u00f4|\ndiada/knesthai~ (Plu., _N.P._ _Suav. Ep._ 1105 A; cf. Verg., _A._\nvi, 401; Apul., _Met._ i, 15 fin.). The honey cakes given to those\nwho enter Hades are intended to pacify him (Sch. Ar., _Lys._ 601;\nVerg., _A._ vi, 420; Ap., _Met._ vi, 19). It cannot be proved that\nthis is an _ancient_ conception (certainly not from the absurd\ninvention of Philochoros, _fr._ 46, to which Dieterich, _Nekyia_,\n49, appeals). Ar., _Lys._ 601, speaks of the ~melitou=tta~ for the\ndead without suggesting any such purpose; and in fact honeycakes\nwould hardly be a satisfactory bait to a dog: they rather suggest\nofferings for underworld snakes (as in the cave of Trophonios, Ar,\n_Nu._ 507; for the Asklepios-snake, Herond. iv, 90-1) and for\nspirits appearing as snakes (and hence customary at offerings for\nthe dead, and even e.g. according to the precepts of the\n~rhizoto/moi~ when digging up medicinal plants, Thphr., _HP._ 9, 8,\n7). In the lines of Sophokles, _OC._ 1574 ff., L\u00f6schcke, _Aus der\nUnterwelt_, p. 9 (Progr. Dorpat, 1888) finds an expression of the\nidea that there was need of pacifying Kerb. in his rage against\nsouls entering Hades. In reality nothing of the kind is even\nsuggested there. The traditional text is unintelligible, and is\nemended and interpreted with probable correctness by Nauck (~do/s~\ninstead of ~ho/n~). Adopting this correction the words express a\nprayer of the Chorus addressed to a child of Tartaros and Ge, who is\ncalled ~ho aie/nupnos~, which must mean \"who sends to everlasting\nsleep\" (not \"who sleeps for ever\")--(or to separate ~pai=s Ga=s kai\\\nTarta/rou~ from ~aie/nupnos~ as the Schol. would do, is impossible.\nThe ~aie/nupnos~, as the Schol. has already noticed, can hardly be\nanyone else than Thanatos (it would be an unintelligible epithet for\nHesychos, of whom L. thinks). Thanatos, however, is nowhere else\ncalled son of Tartaros and Ge (nor is Hesychos, while Typhon and\nEchidna are, though the adj. would not suit them; who else besides\nSoph., _OC._ 40, calls the Erinyes daughters of Ge and Skotos?). The\nChorus pray to him (acc. to Nauck's correction) to grant Oedipus a\nsafe passage in his journey to Hades. Terrors of all kinds were to\nbe met with on the way there, ~o/pheis kai\\ th\u00eari/a~ (Ar., _Ra._ 143\nff., 278 ff.; we may also remember Verg., {245} _A._ vi, 273 ff.,\n285 ff., etc.): that Kerberos is among these terrors is suggested by\nSoph. as little as it is by Aristoph. in the _Frogs_. In fact, Soph.\nhad spoken of him a few lines before (1569 ff.) in words which\nsuggest anything rather than danger to those who enter Hades.\nSophokles, then, cannot be made to serve as witness for the view\nthat the Greeks thought of Kerberos after the manner of the two\npiebald dogs of the Indian Yama that terrify and drive back the\ndead. Further, there is no good evidence for a Greek tradition of\n_two_ hounds of Hell. Nor can it be proved by the case adduced by\nL\u00f6schcke: the picture on a sarcophagus from Klazomenai of a naked\nboy holding a cock in each hand and standing between two (female\ndogs that leap round him (in a manner suggesting play rather than\nanger). The picture can hardly have a mythical sense. This cannot\ngive support to the view (as old as Wilford) that ~Ke/rberos~ is no\nother than one of the two piebald (\u00e7abala) dogs of Yama and a\ncreation of primitive Indo-Germanic times. In any case, the evidence\nis weak enough. See Gruppe, _Gr. Culte u. Mythen_, i, 113-14;\nOldenberg, _Rel. d. Veda_, 538 [= 459 Fr. T.].]\n\n[7\\7: Agatharch. p. 115, 14 ff. M\u00fcll., says that it is a popular\nbelief ~t\u00f4=n ouke/ti o/nt\u00f4n tou\\s tu/pous en porthmi/di diaplei=n,\ne/chontas Cha/r\u00f4na nau/kl\u00earon kai\\ kubern\u00ea/t\u00ean, _hi/na m\u00ea\\\nkatastraphe/ntes ekphora=s epide/\u00f4ntai pa/lin_~.]\n\n[8\\7: Cf. v. Duhn, _Arch. Zeit._ 1885, 19 ff.; _Jahrb. arch. Inst._\nii, 240 ff.]\n\n[9\\7: Charon's fare (2 obols instead of the otherwise usual one--the\ndifference not satisfactorily explained) is first mentioned in Ar.,\n_Ran._ 140, 270. That this is the purpose of the money that was\ninserted between the teeth of the dead is frequently asserted by\nlater authors. The many different names which were given to this\n\"Charon's penny\" (~karka/d\u00f4n~, cf. Lobeck, _Prol. Path._ 351;\n~katit\u00ea/rion, dana/k\u00ea~ and simply ~nau=lon~: see Hemsterh. _Lucian_,\nii, 514 ff.) show that this idea and the symbolism underlying it was\na favourite subject of speculation. In spite of this we may doubt\nwhether the custom of supplying the dead with a small coin has\nreally arisen out of the wish to give them the fare-penny for the\nunderworld ferryman. It is extremely doubtful whether Charon and his\nboat can have been figures of such clear dogmatic fixity as to have\ngiven rise to such a remarkable custom expressing itself in such a\nliteral fashion. The custom itself, now, it seems, attested in\nGreece only from graves of a late period (see Ross. _Arch\u00e4ol. Aufs._\ni, 29, 32, 57 Anm.; Raoul Rochette, _M\u00e9m. de l'Inst. de Fr., Ac. des\nIns._ xiii, p. 665 f.) must be ancient (though no older than the use\nof coined money in Greece), and has held its own with the most\nremarkable tenacity in many parts of the Roman Empire to a late\nage--even through the Middle Ages to our own time (cf. among others\nMaury, _La magie et l'astrol. dans l'antiq._ 158, 2). It is not very\nhard to understand that it might be ingeniously connected with the\npoetical story of the ferryman of the dead, and this plausible\nexplanation of the strange custom might then become a part of\npopular belief. The custom itself ought rather to have been brought\ninto connexion with the practice common in many lands of satisfying\nthe requirements of the dead by the gift of some diminutive and all\nbut symbolical object which is offered at burial and put in the\ngrave (see something of the kind in Tylor, i, 193-4). Parva petunt\nManes: pietas pro divite grata est munere; non avidos Styx habet ima\ndeos. The obol may be the last symbolical vestige of the entire\nproperty of the dead which the ancient law of the dead required to\nbe placed undiminished in their graves. ~tethn\u00ea/x\u00ea| . . . ek poll\u00f4=n\nobolo\\n {246} mou=non enegka/menos~: the epigram of Antiphanes\nMaced. (_AP._ xi, 168) expresses more nearly perhaps, though in\nsentimental language, the original and primitive intention of the\ngift of an obol, than does the fable of Charon's penny (cf. _AP._\nxi, 171, 7; 209, 3). According to German superstition \"money should\nbe laid in the mouth of the dead man so that if he has buried a\ntreasure he may not return\", Grimm, p. 1785, n. 207. Here the\nundoubtedly ancient conception is quite clearly betrayed: that by\ngiving a coin the property of the dead was _bought up_. The evidence\nfor this first and proper meaning of the custom has been preserved\nin the strangest fashion, together with the custom itself, even down\nto the eighteenth century, when J. Chr. M\u00e4nnlingen voices it,\n_Albert\u00e4ten_ 353 (summarized in A. Schultz, _Alltagsleben e. d. Frau\nim_ 18 _Jh._, p. 232 f.): this custom, common both to heathendom and\nChristianity, of putting a penny in the coffin of the dead \"means\nthat men buy up the property of the dead, whereby they think they\nwill have good luck in their life\".]\n\n[10\\7: Ar., _Tagenist. fr._ 488, 9: ~dia\\ tau=ta ga/r toi kai\\\nkalou=ntai (hoi ne/kroi\\) maka/rioi; pa=s ga\\r le/gei tis, _ho\nmakari/t\u00eas_ oi/chetai ktl., makari/t\u00eas~, then, was already, by that\ntime, a common expression for the dead which had lost its full sense\nand value, just like the German \"selig\" (which is borrowed from\nGreek). Strictly speaking it means a condition approaching the\nexistence of the ~ma/kares theoi\\ aie\\n eo/ntes~. The full meaning\nstill appears in the appeal to the heroized Persian monarch:\n~makari/tas _isodai/m\u00f4n_ basileu/s~, Aesch., _Pers._ 633 (~nu=n d'\nesti\\ ma/kaira dai/m\u00f4n~, E., _Alc._ 1003); cf. also Xen., _Ages._\nxi, 8, ~nomi/z\u00f4n tou\\s eukle\u00f4=s teteleut\u00eako/tas makari/ous~. Such\npassages allow us to see that ~maka/rios, makari/t\u00eas~ were not used\nof the dead in any sense ~kat' anti/phrasin~, as ~chr\u00easto/s~\nsometimes is (Plu., _Q. Gr._ v, p. 292 B; though on grave inscr. it\nis generally meant in its proper sense); cf. ~eukrin\u00ea/s~, Phot. Suid.\n~makari/t\u00eas~ frequently occurs as applied to one lately dead in late\nwriters: see Ruhnken, _Tim._, p. 59. Lehrs, _Popul. Aufs_^2., p. 344.\nDoric form ~zameri/tas~: Phot. ~makari/tas~. _~makari/a~_\n\"Blessedness\", the land of the Blessed, i.e. the dead, is only used\nin a humorous sense in such phrases as ~a/pag' es makari/an~ (Ar.\n_Eq._ 1151), ~ba/ll' es makari/an~. So, too, is ~_es olbi/an_. h\u00f4s\neis makari/an; to\\ eis ha/|dou~, Phot. (~makari/a~, the name of a\nsacrificial cake--Harp. ~ne\u00ea/lata~--occurs in modern Greek usage as\na cake used at funerals, Lob., _Agl._ 879).]\n\n[11\\7: The punishment of Ixion for his ingratitude to Zeus consisted\naccording to the older form of the story in his being fastened to a\nwinged wheel and then being whirled through the air. That Zeus\n~etarta/r\u00f4sen~ him (Sch. Eur., _Ph._ 1185) must then be a later\nstory or one which did not become current till later: not until A.R.\niii, 61 f., is there any mention of Ixion in Hades, though after him\nfrequently; cf. Kl\u00fcgmann, _Annali d. Inst._, 1873, pp. 93-5. (The\nanalogy with the punishment of Tantalos and its displacement from\nthe upper world to Hades is obvious; see Comparetti, _Philol._ 32,\n237.)]\n\n[12\\7: Aesch., _Eum._ 273 f.; cf. _Supp._ 230 f. The fact that in\nthis passage the poet says ~ekei= dika/zei ta\\mplak\u00ea/math', _h\u00f4s\nlo/gos_, Zeu\\s a/llos~ simply shows that he is not simply following\nhis own ideas in this fancy of a judgment in the other world (~ouk\nemo\\s ho mu=thos~). It does not in the least suggest (as Dieterich,\n_Nek._ 126, seems to think) that he is reproducing popular tradition\nor could be so doing. Only theological doctrines, at that time at\nleast, knew anything of such a judgment in the future life upon the\ndeeds of this: it is _their_ ~lo/gos~ that Aesch. is following (in\nthis one point). See below, p. 425.]\n\n[13\\7: _Gorg._ 523 A ff. (whence _Axioch._ 371 B ff., etc.). When\nPlato {247} keeps closer to popular belief, in _Ap._ 41 A, he speaks\nof the judges in Hades, Minos, Rhadamanthys, Aiakos ~kai\\\nTripto/lemos kai\\ a/lloi ho/soi t\u00f4=n h\u00eamithe/\u00f4n di/kaioi ege/nonto\nen t\u00f4=| heaut\u00f4=n bi/\u00f4|~. He says nothing of a judgment given on the\ndeeds done in this life, and clearly does not imply any decision as\nto the good or evil deserts of those who have just left the upper\nworld and come down to Hades. We should be much rather led to\nsuppose that those ~al\u00eath\u00f4=s dikastai/, hoi/per kai\\ le/gontai ekei=\ndika/zein~ exercise their powers as judges among the dead, too, and\ndecide between them in their disputes just as Minos does in the\nNekyia of ~l~ 568-71, and as Rhadamanthys still does in Pi., _O._\nii, 83 ff., on the ~maka/r\u00f4n na=sos~. Only the number of those who\nhave this wide authority below is extended (in Plato) almost\nindefinitely. The process seems to have been as follows: the\nallusions in the Odyssey were taken up and in the course of the\nelaboration of the picture of Hades the number was enlarged of those\nwho like Minos are patterns of justice among the dead and give\njudgment among them. Then philosophico-poetical speculation (perhaps\nnot without Egyptian influence) about a judgment in the next world\nhanded over to this increased number of judges in Hades the office\nof judging the conduct during their lifetime of those who have just\nentered Hades.--The selection of judges is not hard to understand.\nAiakos, Rhadamanthys, and Minos are regarded as patterns of justice:\nDem. 18, 127. Minos as judge in Hades was taken from ~l~ 568 ff.\nRhadamanthys is known to ~d~ 564 as dwelling among those who have\nbeen translated alive to Elysion. There he is--not judge: there is\nnothing there to judge, but--~pa/redros~ of Kronos, acc. to Pi.,\n_O._ ii, 83. As soon as men began to transfer Elysion to Hades (of\nwhich more later) Rhad. also found his place there. His fame as the\nmost just of judges (see Cratin., ~Chei/r\u00f4nes~, 231 [i, p. 83 K.];\nPl., _Lg._ 948 B, etc.; cf. also Plu., _Thes._ 16 ad fin.) allowed\nhim easily to find his place next to Minos as judge over the dead.\nAiakos, too, as a model of ~euse/beia~ (Isoc. 9, 14, etc.), lawgiver\nto Aegina, arbitrator among the gods themselves (Pi., _I._ viii, 24\nf.), seemed naturally called to be a judge among the dead. His\nposition as judge, however, was never so secure as that of Minos and\nRhadamanthys. Pindar, though he often speaks of Aiakos and the\nAiakidai gives no hint of a special position held by Aiakos in the\nnext world. Isoc. 9, 15, ~le/getai para\\ Plou/t\u00f4ni kai\\ Ko/r\u00ea|\nmegi/stas tima\\s e/ch\u00f4n paredreu/ein ekei/nois~ where nothing is\nimplied as to his office of judge but merely to the honour done to\nAiakos in being given a seat near the ruling pair (cf. Pi., _O._ ii,\n83, of Rhad.; Ar., _Ra._ 765, there is a rule in Hades that the best\nartist ~lamba/nei thro/non tou= Plou/t\u00f4nos hex\u00ea=s~. Proedria of the\nMystai in Hades, etc.). Aiakos is ~kleidou=chos~ of Hades;\n[Apollod.] 3, 12, 6, 10; _Epigr. Gr._, 646, 4; _P. Mag. Par._ 1264\nff.; ~pul\u00f4ro/s~ (cf. Hades himself as ~pula/rt\u00eas~, ~Th~ 368) in\nLuc., _D. Mort._ 13, 3; 20, 1, 6; 22, 3; _De Luct._ 4; _Philops._ 25\nand Philostr., _VA._ 7, 31, p. 385 K. \"Holder of the Key\" is an\noffice of high distinction (suggested in the case of Aiakos perhaps\nby the cult offered to him together with chthonic powers): keys\nbelong to many of the gods--Plouton himself, Paus. 5, 20, 3, and\nothers; see Tafel and Dissen on Pi., _P._ 8, 4; in _P. Mag. Par._\n1403 comes the trimeter, ~kleidou=che Perse/phassa Tarta/rou ko/r\u00ea~.\nIt is difficult to believe that the attribution of this remarkable\noffice of distinction to Aiakos was a later invention than the\napparently commonplace office of judge. It seems, in fact, that\nEurip. in the _Peirithoos_ (_fr._ 591 N.) made Aiakos the first to\nmeet Herakles as he entered Hades, i.e. probably at the gate itself.\nIt can hardly be anything but a {248} reminiscence of Eurip. that\nsuggested (not to Aristoph. himself--see Hiller, _Hermes_ viii,\n455--but to a well-read _grammaticus_) the name \"Aiakos\" as that of\nthe person who meets Herakles at the very gate of Plouton in the\n_Frogs_ (l. 464). Just because the story of Aiakos' position as\nholder of the key at the gate of Hades was an old one and mentioned\nby respected authorities, the belief in his position as judge never\nquite prevailed, in spite of Plato.]\n\n[14\\7: This is obviously Attic invention. Plato certainly mentions\nTriptolemos in _addition_ to Minos and the other judges. But it\nseems that to the Athenians Minos was unacceptable as a type of\njustice (he was, especially on the stage, the object of bitter\nattacks as an enemy of the country; see Plu., _Thes._ 16). and they\ntried to _substitute_ their own Triptolemos for him in the triad of\njudges. Thus we find Triptolemos not beside Minos but in his place\nin a picture of the underworld on a vase from Altamura (Tript. Aiak.\nRhad.), and in an analogous picture on an amphora at Karlsruhe\n(Aiak. Tript., the left side is broken off but prob. represented\nRhadamanthys not Minos). Cf. Winkler, _Darst. d. Unterwelt auf\nunterital. Vasen_, p. 37. For the rest, nothing suggests that the\nthree judges on these vase-pictures pass judgment on the deeds of\nmen done in their _lifetime_: in strictness nothing is implied about\ntheir giving judgments. What is certain is simply that they, as\ntypes of justice, ~epi\\ tai=si tou= Plou/t\u00f4nos oikou=sin thu/rais~\n(like the Mystai in Ar., _Ra._ 163): they enjoy the rights of\n~pa/redoi~ of the divine pair, and hence they are _seated_ on\n~thro/noi~ or ~di/phroi~.]\n\n[15\\7: Ar., _Ra._ 145 ff., 273 ff. \"Darkness and mud,\" ~sko/tos kai\\\nbo/rboros~, as manner and place of punishment for ~amu/\u00eatoi kai\\\nate/lestoi~, are derived from _Orphic_ teaching: Pl., _Rp._ 363 D;\nOlympiod. on Pl., _Phd._ 69 C. By an inaccurate extension of meaning\nthis fate was said to threaten _all_ ~ate/lestoi~ without\ndistinction: Plu. ~p. psuch\u00ea=s~ ap. Stob. _Fl._ 120, 28 (4, 108, 2\nMein.); Aristid., _Eleus._, p. 421 D. = ii, 30 Keil; Plot., 1, 6, 6.\nPlotinos undoubtedly has the right interpretation of the reason for\nthis strange form of punishment: the mud in which the uninitiated\nlie marks them out as ~m\u00ea\\ kekatharme/nous~ who have not shared in\nthe purifications such as were offered by the Orphic initiation\nceremonies. Hence they remain fixed for ever in their original\nfoulness (and in darkness because of their ignorance of the\n~thei=a~). It is, in fact, an _allegorical_ punishment which has no\nmeaning outside the range of Orphic doctrines of _katharsis_ and\natonement. Aristoph. transfers it to those who have seriously\ntransgressed the laws of city or religion, for whom it was\nunsuitable: this only shows that an appropriate penalty in Hades for\ncrimes against civil society had not yet been invented. It had\nevidently been thought sufficient to say generally that the\n~asebei=s~ (or at least the more heinous offenders) would be\npunished in Hades. This commonplace form of the opinion is probably\nto be regarded as a final echo of some definite theological doctrine\nwhich had become vulgarized and emptied of distinct meaning among\nthe general public of the profane. The author of the first speech\nagainst Aristogeiton ([D.] 25) who speaks of the ~eis tou\\s asebei=s\n\u00f4sth\u00ea=nai~ in Hades (53), confesses himself an adherent of Orpheus\n(11).--The ~memu\u00eame/noi~ dwell in Hades next to the palace of\nPlouton himself: Ar., _Ra._ 162 f., where they have the privilege of\n~proedri/a~, D.L., vi, 39. When a distinction between a ~ch\u00f4=ros\neuseb\u00f4=n~ and a ~ch\u00f4=ros aseb\u00f4=n~ in Hades began to be made, the\ninitiated, in order that they might not be deprived of their\nprivileged position, were given ~proedri/a~ in the ~ch. euseb\u00f4=n~.\nIn this way, e.g. the author of the _Axioch._ 371 D (who {249} can\nhardly have written before the third century) tries to reconcile the\nhopelessly contradictory pretensions of the ~eusebei=s~ and\n~memu\u00eame/noi~ to reward in Hades.]\n\n[16\\7: Sex. Emp., _M._ ix, 53. Suid. ~Diago/ras~.]\n\n[17\\7: Descents to Hades occurred in the ~Krapa/taloi~ of Pherecr.\n(i, p. 167 K.); the ~Ba/trachoi~ and ~G\u00earuta/d\u00eas~ of Ar.; [Pherecr.]\n~Metall.~ (i, p. 174 K.); and probably also in the ~Troph\u00f4/nios~ of\nCratin., etc.--On a vase from Eretria, fifth century, there is a\nrepresentation of a repulsive scene of torture; an old woman, naked\nand tied to a tree, is being tortured by three satyrs. This,\naccording to J. Zingerle, _Arch\u00e4ol. epigr. Mittheil. a.\nOesterreich_, 18, 162 ff., is a parody of some incident from a\ncomedy of the time, the plot of which was laid in Hades. But nothing\nin the picture suggests that the lower regions are the scene of this\ngruesome affair; and what would the satyrs be doing there?]\n\n[18\\7: Utopian existence in Hades; see in partic. [Pherecr.]\n~Metall.~ (i, p. 174 K.). A pretext for such parodies was perhaps\ngiven by the Orphic promise of an everlasting carouse for the\ninitiated at the ~sumpo/sion t\u00f4=n hosi/\u00f4n~ in Hades (Pl., _Rp._ ii,\n263 C, ~maka/r\u00f4=n eu\u00f4chi/a~, Ar., _Ra._ 85). Many details were\nborrowed from the descriptions of the reign of bliss upon earth in\nthe golden age under Kronos' rule which had long been a familiar\nsubject of comedy (cf. P\u00f6schel, _Das M\u00e4rchen vom Schlaraffenland_, 7\nff.). The golden age in the dim past and the land of Elysion in the\nfuture always had many features in common. (See above, chap. ii, n.\n49.) From these traditional pictures of a spirit-world only to be\nmet with in the long-vanished past or in the next world, the whole\nGreek literature of imaginary Utopias drew its sustenance (see my\n_Griech. Roman_, ii, \u00a7 2, 3). That literature was really an attempt\nto transpose those early fantasies of a land of spirits into real\nlife and on to the inhabited world.]\n\n[19\\7: ~e/sti g' eudai/m\u00f4n po/lis para\\ t\u00ea\\n eruthra\\n tha/lattan~,\nAr., _Av._ 144 f. (cf. _Griech. Roman_, 201 ff.).]\n\n[20\\7: ~li/mn\u00ea~ (the Acherousian lake: Eur., _Alc._ 443, and often\nafterwards). Charon: Ar., _Ra._ 137 ff., 182 ff., 185 ff.--~sko/tos\nkai\\ bo/rboros~ 144 ff., 278 ff., 289 ff. Abode and life of the\nMystai: 159, 163, 311 ff., 454 ff.]\n\n[21\\7: ~to\\ L\u00ea/th\u00eas pedi/on~, l. 186. This is the earliest reference\nto Lethe of which we can be quite sure; but it is made so casually\nthat it is obvious that Aristoph. is merely alluding to a story well\nknown to his audience. Plato makes use of the ~L\u00ea/th\u00eas pedi/on~\ntogether with the ~Ame/l\u00eas potamo/s~ (hence 621 C: ~L\u00ea/th\u00eas\npotamo/s~) in the myth at the close of the _Republic_, x, 621 A,\nwhich is intended to illustrate and support the theory of\n_palingenesia_. Of course, this ingenious fancy was eminently\nsuitable for use by adherents of the doctrine of metempsychosis; but\nthere is nothing to show that it had been actually _invented_ for\nthe special benefit of this doctrine, i.e. by Orphics or\nPythagoreans--as many have supposed. It is probable that it was\nnothing more originally but an attempt to explain symbolically the\nunconscious condition of the ~amen\u00eana\\ ka/r\u00eana~. Does Theognis\nalready (704, 705) refer to it?--~Persepho/n\u00ean . . . h\u00ea/te bro/tois\npare/chei _l\u00ea/th\u00ean_, bla/ptousa no/oio~. Other references to the\n~L\u00ea/th\u00eas pu/lai, La/thas do/moi, L\u00ea/th\u00eas hu/d\u00f4r~ are all later; the\n~L\u00ea/th\u00eas thro/nos~ in the account of Theseus' journey to Hades in\n[Apollod.] _Epit._ i, 24, is perhaps taken from older legendary\nmaterial. (Bergk's assertion, _Opusc._ ii, 716: \"The conception of\nLethe's fountain and stream is _certainly_ ancient and popular: the\nwell of Lethe is nothing but the fountain of the gods: whoever\ndrinks of it forgets all sorrows, etc.,\" {250} is entirely devoid of\nfoundation in fact.) The river of Lethe was in later times localized\non earth like Acheron and Styx; in the R. Limia of Gallaecia--far\naway on the western sea--men rediscovered the _Oblivionis flumen_\n(account of the year 137 B.C.: Liv., _Epit._ 55; Flor. 1, 33, 12;\nApp., _Hisp._ 72: Plu., _QR._ 34, p. 272 D; cf. Mela, 3, \u00a7 10;\nPlin., _NH._ 4, \u00a7 115. Absurd aetiology in Strabo, p. 153).]\n\n[22\\7: This is presumably the meaning of the words which Pausanias\n(10, 28, 5) uses: his absurd mannerism makes him talk round the\nincident instead of simply describing it. (Much too artificial\nexplanation of the circumstance in D\u00fcmmler, _Delphika_, p. 15\n[1894].)]\n\n[23\\7: Paus. 10, 28, 4.]\n\n[24\\7: See Appendix iii.]\n\n[25\\7: Eurynomos: dark-blue body like a bluebottle, with prominent\nteeth, sitting on a vulture's skin, Paus. 10, 28, 7. There seems to\nbe no mention of him in literature: whether the statement of\nPausanias that he was a ~dai/m\u00f4n t\u00f4=n en Ha/idou~ who eats the flesh\nof corpses off their bones, is anything more than a guess, we cannot\ntell. The vulture-skin indeed suggests that the nature of the Daimon\nwho sits on it was related to the vulture. The fact that the vulture\neats the flesh of corpses was often observed by the ancients **(see\nPlu., _Rom._ 9, etc.: Leemans on Horapollo, p. 177). Welcker (_Kl.\nSchr._ v, 117) sees in Eurynomos nothing but the \"corruption\" of the\nbody, in which case he would be a purely allegorical figure. On the\ncontrary he is much more likely to be one of those very concretely\nimagined spirits of Hell (only with a euphemistic name, like the\nlesser spirits Lamia, Mormo, Gorgyra, Empousa, etc. (a word about\nthem will be found below, Append. vi). The artist must have known him\nfrom some local tradition. He devours the flesh of the corpse: thus\na late epigram (_Epigr. Gr._ 647, 16) calls the dead ~lupr\u00ea\\n dai=ta\nCha/r\u00f4ni~. Even in Soph., _El._ 542, we have; ~Ha/id\u00eas hi/meron\nte/kn\u00f4n t\u00f4=n ekei/n\u00eas e/sche _dai/sasthai_~ (Welcker, _Syll._, p.\n94).]\n\n[26\\7: Paus. 10, 28, 3. Cf. O. Jahn, _Hermes_, iii, 326.]\n\n[27\\7: The third century vase-paintings from Southern Italy also as\na rule keep within the limits of the epic Nekyia. In addition to the\nfew special types of the sinners undergoing punishment in Hades\n(Sisyphos, Tantalos, the Danaids) we have allusions to the journeys\nto Hades of Theseus, Peirithoos, Herakles, and Orpheus. All attempts\nto read mystical or edifying intentions into these (as in\nBaumeister's _Denkm._ 1926-30) are now regarded as completely\nmistaken. (Orpheus appears there not as founder and prophet of his\nmysteries but simply as the mythical singer who goes down to the\nunderworld to rescue Eurydike with his singing. This is rightly\nmaintained by Milchh\u00f6fer, _Philol._ 53, 385 ff., 54, 750 f., against\nKuhnert, _Arch. Jahrb._ viii, 104 ff.; _Philol._ 54, 193.) Nothing\nat all is suggested as to the fate of mankind in general. On a vase\nfrom Canosa a father and mother with a boy stand on the left of\nOrpheus: this, too, must belong to the region of mythology. (They\ncannot, however, be Dionysos and Ariadne as Winkler suggests,\n_Darst. d. Unterw. auf unterit. Vasen_, 49. But it is difficult to\nimagine that they can be a family of Mystai as Milchh\u00f6fer\nsupposes.)]\n\n\n\n\nPART II\n\n{{253}}\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nORIGINS OF THE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY\n\nTHE THRACIAN WORSHIP OF DIONYSOS\n\n\nThe popular conception of the continued existence of the souls of\nthe dead, resting upon the cult of the dead, grew up and coalesced\nwith a view of the soul derived from Homeric teaching on the\nsubject, which was in essential, though unrecognized, contradiction\nwith the cult of souls. The popular conception, unchanged in all\nessentials, remained in force throughout the coming centuries of\nGreek life. It did not contain within itself the seeds of further\ndevelopment; it did not make any demand for better and deeper ideas\nof the character and condition of the soul in its independent life\nafter its separation from the body. Still more, it had nothing in it\nthat could have led beyond the belief in the independent future life\nof those souls to the conception of an everlasting, indestructible,\nimmortal life. The continued life of the soul, such as was implied\nin and guaranteed by the cult of souls, was entirely bound up with\nthe remembrance of the survivors upon earth, and upon the care, the\ncult, which they might offer to the soul of their departed ancestor.\nIf that memory dies out, if the venerating thoughtfulness of the\nliving ceases, the soul of the departed is at once deprived of the\nsole element in which it still maintained its shadow of an\nexistence.\n\nIt was impossible, then, that the cult of the souls should produce\nout of itself the idea of a true immortality of the soul or of the\nindependent life of the soul indestructible by its very nature.\nGreek religion as it existed among the people of Homer could not\nshape such a belief of its own accord, and even if it were offered\nfrom outside could not have accepted it. It would have meant giving\nup its own essential character.\n\nIf the soul is immortal, it must be in its essential nature like\nGod; it must itself be a creature of the realm of Gods. When a Greek\nsays \"immortal\" he says \"God\": they are interchangeable ideas. But\nthe real first principle of the religion of the Greek people is\nthis--that in the divine ordering of the world, humanity and\ndivinity are absolutely divided in place and nature, and so they\nmust ever remain. A deep {254} gulf is fixed between the worlds of\nmortality and divinity. The relations between man and God promoted\nby religion depend entirely upon this distinction. The ethical ideas\nof the Greek popular conscience were rooted in the frank admission\nof the limitations proper to human capacity which was conditioned by\nan existence and a fate so different from that enjoyed by the gods;\nin the renunciation of all human claims to happiness and\nindependence. Poetic fancies about the \"Translation\" of individual\nmortals to an unending life enjoyed by the soul still united to the\nbody might make their appeal to popular belief; but such things\nremained _miracles_ in which divine omnipotence had broken down the\nbarriers of the natural order on a special occasion. It was but a\nmiracle, too, if the souls of certain mortals were raised to the\nrank of Heroes, and so promoted to everlasting life. The gulf\nbetween the human and the divine was not made any narrower on that\naccount; it remained unbridged, abysmal. The bare idea that the gulf\ndid not in reality exist, that actually in the order of nature the\ninner man, the \"Soul\" of man belonged to the realm of gods; that as\na divine being it had everlasting life--such an idea would involve\nfurther consequences about which no one can be in much doubt: it\nwould have contradicted every single idea of Greek popular religion.\nIt never could have become widely held and believed in by the Greek\npopulace.\n\nNevertheless, at a certain period in Greek history, and nowhere\nearlier or more unmistakably than in Greece, appeared the idea of\nthe divinity, and the immortality implicit in the divinity, of the\nhuman soul. That idea belonged entirely to _mysticism_--a second\norder of religion which, though little remarked by the religion of\nthe people and by orthodox believers, gained a footing in isolated\nsects and influenced certain philosophical schools. Thence it has\naffected all subsequent ages and has transmitted to East and West\nthe elementary principles of all true mysticism: the essential unity\nof the divine and the human spirit; their unification as the aim of\nreligion; the divine nature of the human soul and its immortality.\n\nThe theory and doctrine of mysticism grew up in the soil of an older\ncult-practice. Greece received from abroad a deeply emotional\nreligious cult, accompanied by practices that stimulated mysterious\nand extraordinary imaginings. The sparks of momentary illumination\nstruck out by this faith were fed and fanned by mysticism till they\nbecame a vivid and enduring flame. For the first time, clearly {255}\ndiscernible through its mystical wrappings, we meet with the belief\nin the indestructibility and eternal life of the soul: we meet it in\nthe doctrines of a mystical sect which united in the worship of\nDionysos. The worship of Dionysos must have sown the first seed of\nthe belief in an immortal life of the soul. To explain how this may\nhave happened; to make clear to the mind of the reader how the\nessence and inner reality of that worship was bound to stir up the\nbelief in an immortal life--such is our next task.\n\n\u00a7 2\n\nIn the spiritual life of men and nations, it is not by any means the\nextravagant or, in one sense or another, the abnormal that is most\ndifficult for our sympathetic understanding to grasp. By clinging to\na traditional and too narrow formula for the Greek spirit we make\ndifficulties for ourselves; but it is not really a matter of serious\nperplexity, if we reflect upon it, to understand how Greek religion\nat the height of its development regarded \"madness\" (~mani/a~) as a\nreligious phenomenon of wide-reaching importance. Madness, in this\nsense, is a temporary destruction of physical balance, a condition\nin which the self-conscious spirit is overwhelmed, \"possessed\" by a\nforeign power, as our authorities explain it to us. This madness\n\"which comes not from mortal weakness or disease, but from a divine\nbanishment of the commonplace\"[1\\8] found effective application in\nthe _mantic_ and _telestic_ arts. Its effects were so common and\nwell recognized that the truth and importance of such religious\nmadness (entirely distinguishable from bodily disease was treated as\na fact of experience not merely by philosophers, but by the doctors\nthemselves.[2\\8] For us it only remains obscure how such \"divine\nmania\" was fitted into the regular working order of the religious\nlife; the sensations and experiences themselves belonging to this\ncondition are made intelligible enough by a whole host of analogies.\nIn fact if the truth were told we should rather have to admit that\nit is easier for us to sympathize with such overflowing of sensation\nand all that goes with it than with the opposite pole of Greek\nreligious life, the calm and measured composure with which man\nlifted up heart and eye to the gods, as the patterns of all life and\nthe patrons of a serenity as brilliant and unmoved as that of the\nclear heavens themselves.\n\nBut how came it that in the character of a single people such\nextravagance of emotion was combined with a fast-bound and regulated\nequilibrium of temper and behaviour? The answer is that these\nopposing features sprang from two {256} different sources. They were\nnot originally combined in Greece. The Homeric poems hardly give any\nhint of that overflowing of religious emotion which later Greek\npeoples knew and honoured as a heaven-sent madness. It spread among\nthe Greeks themselves in the train of a religious agitation, we\nmight almost say revolution, of which Homer records, at most, only\nthe first faint essays. It had its origin in the religion of\nDionysos, and in company with this religion enters as something new\nand strange into Greek life.\n\nThe Homeric poems do not recognize Dionysos as belonging to the gods\nof Olympos, but they are aware of his existence. It is true they\nnowhere plainly[3\\8] refer to him as the wine-god honoured in joyful\nfestivals, but we read (in the narrative of Glaukos' meeting with\nDiomedes) of the \"frenzied\" Dionysos and his \"Nurses\" who were\nattacked by the Thracian Lykourgos.[4\\8] The _Mainas_, the frenzied\nwoman of the Dionysos-cult, was such a well-known phenomenon, so\nfamiliar in men's minds, that the word could be used in a simile to\nexplain the meaning of something else.[5\\8] In this form the worship\nof the god first came to the notice of the Greeks; this was the\norigin of all the other festivals of Dionysos that later Greece\ndeveloped in so many different directions.[6\\8] They learnt to know\nDionysos Bakcheios, \"who makes men frenzied,\"[7\\8] as he was\nworshipped in his own country.\n\nThat the original home of Dionysos-worship was in Thrace, that his\ncult, popular among many of the Thracian peoples,[8\\8] was\nparticularly honoured among the southernmost of the Thracian stocks\nwho were best known to the Greeks and lived on the coast between the\nmouths of the rivers Hebros and Axios and in the mountainous country\nbehind--to all this the Greeks themselves bore frequent and manifold\nwitness.[9\\8] The god whose name the Greeks knew in its Greek form\n\"Dionysos\" had, it appears, among the numerous and divided Thracian\npeoples various appellations of which those most familiar to the\nGreeks were Sabos and Sabazios.[10\\8] The Greeks must have known and\nremarked on the nature and worship of the god at an early period of\ntheir history. They may have met with him in Thrace itself. At all\nperiods they had an extensive and varied intercourse with this\ncountry and must in the early days of their wanderings have passed\nthrough it on their way to their future home. They may have had\nfurther opportunities of knowing it from the Thracian races or\ntribes who, according to a few isolated legends, had dwelt in\nprimitive times in certain localities of Central Greece. The\nethnographical material of these {257} legends was regarded as\nfounded on fact by the great historians of the fifth and fourth\ncenturies.[11\\8]\n\nThe cult of this Thracian divinity differed in every particular from\nanything that we know of from Homer as Greek worship of the gods. On\nthe other hand, it was closely related to the cult paid by the\nPhrygians, a people almost identical with the Thracians, to their\nmountain-mother Kybele. It was thoroughly orgiastic in character.\nThe festival was held on the mountain tops in the darkness of night\namid the flickering and uncertain light of torches. The loud and\ntroubled sound of music was heard; the clash of bronze cymbals; the\ndull thunderous roar of kettledrums; and through them all penetrated\nthe \"maddening unison\" of the deep-toned flute,[12\\8] whose soul\nPhrygian _aul\u00eatai_ had first waked to life. Excited by this wild\nmusic, the chorus of worshippers dance with shrill crying and\njubilation.[13\\8] We hear nothing about singing:[14\\8] the violence\nof the dance left no breath for regular songs. These dances were\nsomething very different from the measured movement of the\ndance-step in which Homer's Greeks advanced and turned about in the\n_Paian_. It was in frantic, whirling, headlong eddies and\ndance-circles[15\\8] that these inspired companies danced over the\nmountain slopes. They were mostly women who whirled round in these\ncircular dances till the point of exhaustion was reached;[16\\8] they\nwere strangely dressed; they wore _bassarai_, long flowing garments,\nas it seems, stitched together out of fox-skins;[17\\8] over these\nwere doeskins,[18\\8] and they even had horns fixed to their\nheads.[19\\8] Their hair was allowed to float in the wind;[20\\8] they\ncarried snakes sacred to Sabazios[21\\8] in their hands and\nbrandished daggers or else thyrsos-wands, the spear-points of which\nwere concealed in ivy-leaves.[22\\8] In this fashion they raged\nwildly until every sense was wrought to the highest pitch of\nexcitement, and in the \"sacred frenzy\" they fell upon the beast\nselected as their victim[23\\8] and tore their captured prey limb\nfrom limb. Then with their teeth they seized the bleeding flesh and\ndevoured it raw.\n\nIt is easy enough, by following poets' descriptions and plastic\nrepresentations of such scenes, to elaborate still further the\npicture of this nocturnal festival of fanatic enthusiasm. But, we\nmust ask, what was the _meaning_ of it all? We shall get nearest to\nthe truth if we will exclude as far as possible all theories\nimported from unrelated provinces of thought and fix our attention\nsolely on what, for the participants, was the result of it all--the\nresult anticipated and consciously proposed by them, and therefore\nthe recognized object, or, at least, one {258} of the recognized\nobjects of these strange proceedings. The participators in these\ndance-festivals induced intentionally in themselves a sort of mania,\nan extraordinary exaltation of their being. A strange rapture came\nover them in which they seemed to themselves and others \"frenzied\",\n\"possessed\".[24\\8] This excessive stimulation of the senses, going\neven as far as hallucination,[25\\8] was brought about, in those who\nwere susceptible to their influence, by the delirious whirl of the\ndance, the music and the darkness, and all the other circumstances\nof this tumultuous worship.[26\\8] This extreme pitch of excitement\nwas the result intended. The violently induced exaltation of the\nsenses had a religious purpose, in that such enlargement and\nextension of his being was man's only way, as it seemed, of entering\ninto union and relationship with the god and his spiritual\nattendants. The god is invisibly present among his inspired\nworshippers. At any rate, he is close at hand, and the tumult of the\nfestival is to bring him completely into their midst.[27\\8] There\nare various legends about the disappearance of the god into another\nworld and his return thence to mankind.[28\\8] Every second year his\nreturn is celebrated, and it is just this Appearance, this\n\"Epiphany\" of the god, that gives the reason and the motive of the\nfestival. The Bull-God, in the most ancient and primitive form of\nthe belief, appeared in person among the dancers,[29\\8] or else the\nimitated roaring of a bull produced by hidden \"Mimes of Terror\"\nserved to suggest the invisible Presence.[30\\8] The worshippers,\ntoo, in furious exaltation and divine inspiration, strive after the\ngod; they seek communion with him. They burst the physical barriers\nof their soul. A magic power takes hold of them; they feel\nthemselves raised high above the level of their everyday existence;\nthey seem to _become_ those spiritual beings who wildly dance in the\ntrain of the god.[31\\8] Nay, more, they have a share in the life of\nthe god himself; nothing less can be the meaning of the fact that\nthe enraptured servants of the god call themselves by the name of\nthe god. The worshipper who in his exaltation has become one with\nthe god, is himself now called Sabos, Sabazios.[32\\8] The superhuman\nand the infra-human are mingled in his person; like the frenzied\ngod[33\\8] he throws himself upon the sacrificial animal to devour it\nraw. To make this transformation of their nature outwardly manifest,\nthe participants in the dance-festival wear strange dress: they\nresemble in their appearance the members of the wild _thiasos_ of\nthe god;[34\\8] the horns they set on their heads recall the horned,\nbull-shaped god himself, etc.[35\\8] The whole might be called a\nreligious drama, since {259} everything is carefully arranged so as\nto suggest to the imagination the actual presence of the mysterious\nfigures from the spirit world. At the same time, it is something\nmore than mere drama, for it can hardly be doubted that the players\nthemselves were possessed by the illusion of living the life of a\nstrange person. The awe-inspiring darkness of night, the music,\nespecially that of the Phrygian flute, to which the Greeks\nattributed the power of making its hearers \"full of the god\",[36\\8]\nthe vertiginous whirl of the dance--all these may very well, in\nsuitably disposed natures,[37\\8] have really led to a state of\nvisionary exaltation in which the inspired person saw all external\nobjects in accordance with his fancy and imagination. Intoxicating\ndrinks, to which the Thracians were addicted, may have increased the\nexcitement;[38\\8] perhaps they even used the fumes derived from\ncertain seeds, with which the Scythians and Massagetai knew how to\nintoxicate themselves.[39\\8] We all know how even to day in the East\nthe smoke of hashish may make men visionaries and excite religious\nraptures[40\\8] in which the whole of nature is transformed for the\nenthralled dreamer. \"Only when thus possessed did the Bakchai drink\nmilk and honey out of the rivers; their power ceased when they came\nto themselves again,\" says Plato.[41\\8] For them the earth flowed\nwith milk and honey, and the air was filled with the sweet odours of\nSyria.[42\\8] Hallucination was accompanied by a state of feeling in\nwhich pain itself was only an added stimulus to sensation or in\nwhich the visionary became completely insensible to pain, as is not\nunusual in such states of exaltation.[43\\8]\n\nEvery detail confirms the picture of a condition of wild excitement\nin which the limitations of ordinary life seemed to be abolished.\nThese extraordinary phenomena transcending all normal experience\nwere explained by saying that the soul of a person thus\n\"possessed\"[44\\8] was no longer \"at home\"[45\\8] but \"abroad\", having\nleft its body behind. This was the literal and primitive meaning\nunderstood by the Greek when he spoke of the \"ekstasis\" of the soul\nin such orgiastic conditions of excitement.[46\\8] This ekstasis is\n\"a brief madness\", just as madness is a prolonged ekstasis.[47\\8]\nBut the ekstasis, the temporary _alienatio mentis_ of the Dionysiac\ncult was not thought of as a vain purposeless wandering in a region\nof pure delusion, but as a _hieromania_,[48\\8] a sacred madness in\nwhich the soul, leaving the body, winged its way to union with the\ngod.[49\\8] It is now with and in the god, in the condition of\n_enthousiasmos_; those who are possessed by this are ~e/ntheoi~;\nthey live and have their being in the god.[50\\8] While still\nretaining {260} the finite Ego, they feel and enjoy to the full the\ninfinite powers of all life.\n\nIn _ekstasis_ the soul is liberated from the cramping prison of the\nbody; it communes with the god and develops powers of which, in the\nordinary life of everyday, thwarted by the body, it knew nothing.\nBeing now a spirit holding communion with spirits it is able to free\nitself from Time and see what only the spiritual eye beholds--things\nseparated from it in time and space. The enthusiastic worship of the\nThracian servants of Dionysos gave birth to the _inspiration\nmantik\u00ea_,[51\\8] a form of prophecy which did not (like prophecy as\nit invariably appears in Homer) have to wait for accidental,\nambiguous and external signs of the god's will, but on the contrary\nentered immediately into communion with the world of gods and\nspirits and in this heightened spiritual condition beheld and\nproclaimed the future. This power belonged to men only in\n_ekstasis_, in religious madness, when \"the God enters into men\".\nThe _Mainads_ are the official exponents of this _mantik\u00ea_ of\ninspiration.[52\\8] It is simple and intelligible enough that the\nThracian cult of Dionysos, which was throughout a means of\nstimulating men to a condition of extreme exaltation that they might\nenter into direct communion with the spirit-world, also encouraged\nthe prophesying of inspired seers, who in their rapt exaltation and\nfrenzy became clairvoyant. Among the Thracian Satrai there was a\ntribe called the Bessoi who produced _proph\u00eatai_, and these were in\ncharge of an oracle of Dionysos situated on the top of a high\nmountain. The prophetess of this temple was a woman who gave\nprophecies like the Pythia at Delphi, that is to say, in a state of\nrapt ecstasy. This, at least, is what Herodotos says,[53\\8] and we\nhave many other accounts of Thracian _mantik\u00ea_ and its close\nconnexion with the orgiastic cult of Dionysos.[54\\8]\n\n\u00a7 3\n\nThe Greek type of religion, perhaps from its very origin, certainly\nat the earliest period of its development in which it becomes\naccessible to our observation--the period to which the Homeric poems\nbelong--had no leaning to anything resembling an excited emotional\nworship like that practised by the Thracians in their orgiastic cult\nof Dionysos. The whole movement wherever it came to their notice\nmust have struck the Greeks of Homer as something strange and\nbarbaric, attractive only through the interest ever attached to the\nunknown. And yet--the fact is certain--the thrilling tones {261} of\nthis \"enthusiastic\" worship awoke an answering chord deep in the\nhearts of many Greeks; in spite of all that was strange they must\nhave recognized a familiar accent in it--something that, however\noutlandishly expressed, could appeal to the common nature of\nmankind.\n\nThis enthusiastic Thracian cult was in fact only a special\nexpression, conforming to their peculiar national characteristics,\nof a religious impulse that is to be found all over the earth, and\nwhich breaks out in every stage of civilization. It must, indeed,\nanswer to an instinctive need of human nature, and be rooted in the\nphysical and psychical constitution of man. In moments of supreme\nexaltation man felt the presence above him and around him of mighty\npowers that seemed to express themselves even in his own personal\nlife. These he was no longer to confront in pious and fearful awe,\npassively confined within the limits of his own separate\npersonality: he was to break down every barrier and clasp them to\nhis heart, making them his own in unconditional surrender. Mankind\nneeded not to wait for that strange product of poetry and thought,\nPantheism, before it could experience this instinctive need to lose\nits own private existence, for a moment, in the divine. There are\nwhole races of men, not otherwise among the most distinguished\nmembers of the human family, who have a special tendency and gift\nfor such expansion of the human consciousness into the\nsupra-personal. They have an urgent impulse to such rapt and\nvisionary states, and they regard the enticing or horrifying visions\nthat visit them in those states as actual experiences of another\nworld into which their \"souls\" have for a brief while been\ntransported. In every part of the world there are peoples who regard\nsuch ecstatic exaltation as the only true religious act, the only\nway of intercourse with the spirit-world available to man, and base\ntheir religious performances principally upon such ceremonial as\nexperience has shown to be most capable of inducing the ecstasies\nand visions. The means most commonly adopted by such peoples to\nproduce the desired intensity and stimulation of feeling is a\nviolently excited dance prolonged to the point of exhaustion, in the\ndarkness of night, to the accompaniment of tumultuous music.\nSometimes whole companies of the people induce in themselves a state\nof religious excitement by wild and furious dancing.[55\\8] More\noften selected individuals, specially susceptible to such\nimpressions, suffer their \"souls\" to be drawn out by music and\ndancing and every other sort of stimulating influence, and made to\nvisit the world of spirits and gods.[56\\8] Such \"magicians\" and\npriests who can place {262} themselves in immediate contact of soul\nwith the spirit world, are to be found all over the globe. The\nshamans of Asia, the \"medicine men\" of North America, the Angekoks\nof Greenland, the Butios of the Antilles, the Piajes of the\nCaribbees are merely special cases of a universal type, essentially\nthe same in all its different manifestations. Africa, Australia, and\nthe island world of the Pacific are equally familiar with them. Both\ntheir performances and the range of ideas that lie behind them\nbelong to a type of religious experience that occurs with the\nregularity of a natural phenomenon, and must therefore not be\nregarded as abnormal. Even among Christian peoples of long standing,\nthe smouldering fires of this primitive and emotional type of\nreligion are ever ready to burst out again in renewed flames, and\nthose who feel their warmth are kindled to a more than human sense\nof life and vigour.[57\\8] Conventionality and traditionalism, even\nthe substitution of a cold and spurious mimicry for real feeling,\nare of course quite compatible with a form of religion which\nconsists so much in the display of emotion. But even so, the most\ncautious observers[58\\8] have declared that by such violent\nstimulation of every sense the \"magicians\" are thrown into a state\nof quite unfeigned exaltation. In accordance with the character and\ncontent of their normal modes of thought, the hallucinations to\nwhich the magicians are subject differ in different cases; but as a\ngeneral rule their frenzy opens to them a way of immediate\nintercourse, frequently of complete communion of being, with the\ngods. This is the only explanation which will account for the fact\nthat, like the inspired Bakchantes of Thrace, the magicians and\npriests of so many peoples are called by the name of the divinity to\nwhom their \"enthusiastic\" worship elevates them.[59\\8] The impulse\nto union with God, the extinction of the individual in the\ndivine--these are what form the fundamental points of contact\nbetween the mysticism of the most highly cultivated and talented\npeople and the emotional religion of primitive \"savages\". Even the\nexternal machinery of excitement and stimulation are not always\ndispensed with by the mystics:[60\\8] they are always the same as\nthose with which we are already familiar in the orgiastic religion\nof primitive peoples--music, the giddy whirl of the dance, narcotic\nstimulants. Thus (to take the most striking example out of many that\nmight be given) the dervishes of the Orient whirl round in their\nviolent dances to the rattle of drums, and the sound of flutes till\nthe last stages of excitement and exhaustion are reached. The\npurpose of it all is vividly expressed by the {263} most fearless of\nall the mystics, Jelaleddin Rumi, in the words: \"He that knows the\npower of the dance dwells in God; for he has learnt that Love can\nslay.[61\\8] Allah hu! . . .\"\n\n\u00a7 4\n\nWherever a cultus of this kind, making its aim and object the\nevocation of ecstatic raptures, has taken root--whether in whole\nraces of men or in religious communities--there we find in close\nalliance with it, whether as cause or effect or both, a peculiarly\nvital belief in the life and power of the soul of man after its\nseparation from the body. Our comparative glance over the analogous\nphenomena of other lands has shown us that the exalted worship\noffered to \"Dionysos\" among the Thracians was only a single variety\nof a method, familiar to more than half the human race, of getting\ninto touch with the divine by a religious \"enthousiasmos\". We\ntherefore expect to find among the Thracians a specially strong and\nwell-developed belief in the life of the \"soul\". And in fact we find\nHerodotos telling us of a Thracian tribe, the Getai, whose belief\n\"made men immortal\".[62\\8] They had only one god, Zalmoxis by\nname.[63\\8] To this god, who dwelt in a cavernous mountain, all the\ndead of their race, they believed, would one day be gathered and\nhave immortal life.[64\\8] The same belief was held by other Thracian\ntribes, too.[65\\8] This creed seems to have had in view the\n\"transplantation\"[66\\8] of the dead to a blessed life in the\nhereafter. But, it would seem, this transplantation was not perhaps\nfor ever. We hear of the belief that the dead would \"return\"[67\\8]\nfrom the other world; and that this idea existed among the Getai is\nimplied (though the narrator does not clearly understand this) by\nthe absurd pragmatizing fable which Herodotos got from the Greek\nsettlers on the Hellespont and the Pontos.[68\\8] In this story (as\noften in later accounts too Zalmoxis is actually a slave and pupil\nof Pythagoras of Samos. Whoever invented this fairy-tale was led to\nit by observing the close relationship between the Pythagorean\ndoctrine of the soul and the Thracian belief. In the same way later\nobservers of the same fact reversed the positions and made\nPythagoras the pupil of the Thracian.[69\\8] In any case the fact\ncannot to be doubted that in Thrace people thought they had found\nagain the special doctrine of Pythagoras as to the _transmigration_\nof souls. The belief in the \"return\" of the soul must be interpreted\nas meaning that the souls of the dead return to life in new bodies\nand resume their life on earth, to this extent being {264}\n\"immortal\". Only so interpreted could it have been held for a moment\nwithout coming into conflict with obvious appearances. An allusion\nin Euripides seems to regard as Thracian such a belief in a\nrecurrent incarnation of the soul.[70\\8]\n\nWe should be justified in expecting to find an inner connexion\nbetween this Thracian belief in immortality, which seems to have\nmade such an impression on our Greek informants, and the religion\nand \"enthousiastic\" worship of the same people. Nor are traces\nlacking of a close association of the Thracian worship of Dionysos\nand Thracian cult of the Souls.[71\\8] But if we ask why the religion\nof the Thracian Dionysos was attended by a belief in the\nindependent, indestructible life of the soul, a life not confined to\nthe period of its sojourn in the body which at present envelopes it,\nthe answer must be sought not in the nature of the god to whom the\ncult was offered (that nature being, in fact, insufficiently known\nto us) but in the nature of the cult itself. The object of that\ncult--we might almost say its special task--was to exalt its\nworshippers to a state of \"ekstasis\" in which their \"souls\" should\nbe forcibly delivered from the normal circle of their human and\ncircumscribed being, and raised as pure spirits to communion with\nthe god and his company of spirits. The true \"Bakchai\"[72\\8]--those\nwho were really cast into a state of religious madness--found in the\nrapture of these orgies a new province of experience open before\nthem: they experience things of which they could give no account in\nthe fully conscious light of ordinary day. There can be no doubt\nthat the experiences and visions that their \"ekstasis\" gave them\nwere regarded by them as the plainest and most literally real of\nfacts.[73\\8] The belief in the existence and life of a second self\ndistinct from the body and separable from it was already encouraged\nby the \"experiences\" of the separate existence and independent\nbehaviour of that self in dreams and fainting fits.[74\\8] How much\nmore strongly and vividly must this belief have been confirmed for\nthose who in the intoxication of those delirious dances had\n\"experienced\" for themselves how the soul, freed from the body,\ncould participate in the joys and terrors of the divine existence;\nnot indeed the whole man, body and soul together, but the soul by\nitself and in separation from the body--the spiritual being\ninvisibly living within the man. The sense of its own divinity, its\neternity, which had been blindingly revealed to it in \"ekstasis\",\nmight be developed by the soul into a lasting persuasion that it was\nindeed of a divine nature, and called to a divine life which it\nwould enjoy for ever as soon as it was freed from the body, {265}\njust as it had then enjoyed it for a moment. No mere intellectual\narguments could give such powerful support to a spiritualism of this\nkind as the personal experience itself which, even in this life\nsupplied a foretaste of what the individual was one day to enjoy as\nhis own for ever.\n\nIn some such way as this, the persuasion of an independent,\ncontinued existence of the soul after the death of its body was\ndeveloped into a belief in the divinity and immortality of the soul.\nIn all such cases it was almost inevitable that the naive\ndistinction between \"body\" and \"soul\", natural to simple-minded\npeoples and individuals, should harden into an _opposition_ between\nthe two. The descent from the heights where the ecstatic and\nemancipated soul enjoyed its thrilling delights was too sudden; the\nbody could not but seem a burden and a hindrance, almost an enemy of\nthe heaven-born soul. Disparagement of the ordinary existence of\nevery day, a turning aside from this life--these are the natural\nresults of such an advanced spiritualism, even though it may have no\nspeculative basis, when it influences so profoundly the religious\ntemperament of a people as yet untroubled by the subtleties of a\nscientific culture. A trace of such a depreciation of the earthly\nlife of mankind in comparison with the joys of a free\nspirit-existence is to be found in what Herodotos and other\nnarrators tell of certain Thracian tribes[75\\8] who receive the\nnew-born among their kinsfolk with mourning, and bury their dead\nwith joyful acclamation, for the latter are now beyond the reach of\nall pain, and are living \"in perfect happiness\".[76\\8] The\ncheerfulness with which the Thracians faced death in battle[77\\8]\nwas explained by the persuasion which they held that death was only\nan entrance into a higher life for the soul. They were even credited\nwith a real desire for death, for to them \"dying seemed so\nfair\".[78\\8]\n\n\u00a7 5\n\nFurther than this the Thracians--who never quite outgrew a sort of\nsemi-animated torpor of the intellect--could not go on the way\nmarked out for them. The seed of a mystical form of religion that\nexisted in the ecstatic dance-orgies of Dionysos-worship never came\nto fruition. We never feel with them that we are being taken beyond\nthe region of vague unconscious emotion; it is but a passing\nillumination that for a moment of wild excitement reveals the near\npresence of overwhelming spirit-forces.\n\nNot until the flames of such ecstatic worship were fed and nourished\nby a people of more independent and developed spiritual life, could\nfitful suggestions be welded into deep and {266} enduring thought.\nReflexion upon the nature of the world and of God, the changing and\ndeceptive flow of appearance with the indestructible One Reality\nbehind it; the conception of a divinity that is One, a single light\nthat, divided into a thousand rays and reflected from everything\nthat is, achieves its unity again in the soul of man; such thoughts\nas these, allied to the dim half-conscious impulse of an\nenthusiastic dance-worship, might allow the pure waters of the\nstream of mysticism to run clear at last, freed from the turbid and\nunsatisfying enthusiasm of popular religious practices.\n\nThus, for example, among the stern and rigid-minded peoples of\nIslam, with their stiff, uncompromising Monotheism, there arose, no\none knows whence, the inspired dance-orgies of the Dervishes, which\nthen spread far and wide carrying with them the mystical doctrine of\nthe S\u00fbfis, that child of the profound mind of India. Man is God; God\nis All: such was the pronouncement of the inspired poetry--the\nspecial contribution in particular of Persia to this religion of\nmystic **ecstasy--now in the most transparent simplicity, now in the\nmost gorgeous magnificence of imagery. In the ecstatic dance, which\nin this case remained in organic connexion with the mystical\ndoctrine (as the soil of the maternal earth with the flowers which\nshe puts forth) new strength was ever being added to the spiritual\nsuperstructure. Mystical theory was invigorated by the practical\nexperience, in heightened consciousness, of an internal and\nunquenchable source of undying power and might. The veil of the\nworld was torn aside for the inspired worshipper; the All-One became\nsensible and intelligible for him; it poured into his own being; the\n\"deification\" of the Mystai was realized in him. \"Who knows the\npower of the Dance dwells in God\". . .\n\nMany years before all this, a process of development was completed\non Greek soil which has no closer parallel than the special phase of\nOriental religion just referred to. Greek religion never indeed (so\nlong at least as the independence of Greek life lasted) went to the\nextravagant lengths of Oriental mysticism. Even the sense of the\ninfinite had to be expressed by the Greek imagination in plastic\nform. But for all that, on Greek soil, in the ecstatic Cult of\nDionysos, under the influence of Greek reflexion upon God, the world\nand mankind, the seeds which previously lay undeveloped in the womb\nof that cult were unfolded in a mystical doctrine, whose guiding\nprinciple was the divinity of the human soul and the infiniteness of\nits life in God. It was from this source that Greek philosophy found\nthe courage to advance a doctrine of the immortality of the soul.\n\n\nNOTES TO CHAPTER VIII\n\n\n[1\\8: Pl., _Phdr._ 265 A.]\n\n[2\\8: e.g. Cael. Aurel. (i.e. Soranos), _Morb. Chr._ i, \u00a7 144 ff.;\nAret. _Chron. Pass._ i, 6, p. 84 K\u00fchn [vol. 24].]\n\n[3\\8: Even the late interpolated passages ~X~ 325, ~\u00f4~ 74, are not\nquite conclusive. Apart from these the statement of Sch. ~i~ 198\napplies strictly throughout both poems: ~to\\ m\u00ea\\ paradido/nai\nHo/m\u00earon Dio/nuson oi/nou heuret\u00ea/n~, Lehrs, _Arist._^3, p. 181.]\n\n[4\\8: ~Z~ 132 ff. The scene is evidently meant to be a Bacchic\nfestival. This is shown by the ~thu/sthla~, which the ~Di\u00f4nu/soio\ntith\u00ea=nai~ let fall out of their hands. All the rest is obscure.\nEven in antiquity no one knew who the ~tith\u00ea=nai~ of Dionysos really\nwere, and hence alternative suggestions were all the more numerous:\ncf. Nauck, _Fr. Trag._^2, p. 17. Voigt, in Roscher's _Mythol. Lex._\ni, 1049. It can hardly be necessary (with Sch. A on Z 129) to deduce\nfrom the reference to ~tith\u00ea=nai~ that Dionysos himself was regarded\nas ~n\u00ea/pios e/ti kai\\ pai=s~. His former ~tith\u00ea=nai~ follow him in\nthe Bacchic festival even after he has grown up, exactly as in _h.\nHom._ xxvi, 3, 7-10. ~hai Dionu/sou trophoi/~ as the frenzied mob\nworshipping the god, ~t\u00f4=| the\u00f4=| orgia/zousai~ (in Thessaly), come\nin D.S. 5, 50, 4, in a parallel narrative to the story of Lykourgos\nand the Mainads. With the conception of the god as ~likni/t\u00eas~\nneither his leap into the sea (~Z~ 135 ff.), nor esp. the adj.\n~mainome/noio~ (132) are in harmony. This last word does certainly\ngive us pause. The accounts provided by later ages of the madness of\nDionysos are obviously made up from the lines of Homer and are\ntherefore of no use to us (already ap. Eumelos in the ~Eur\u00f4pi/a~,\nSchol. AD. ~Z~ 131; then Pherekydes, Achaios ~en I/ridi~: Phld.,\n_Piet._, p. 36 [Nauck, _Fr. Trag._^2, p. 751]; E., _Cyc._ 3.\n[Apollod.] iii, 5, 1, is prob. derived from Pherec. as are also\nPhilistos _fr._ 57, _FHG._ i; Pl., _Lg._ 672 B; Nic. ~Ophiak.~ _fr._\n30 Schn., etc.). Scholastic interpreters even thought of a\nhypallage: ~mainome/noio = maniopoiou=, bakchei/as\nparaskeuastikou=~, Schol. A, ~Z~ 132; cf. Sch. B, p. 182a, 43 f. Bk.\nAnd, indeed, there is certainly in this case a sort of mythological\nor sacramental hypallage: the state of mind brought about by the god\nin those who surround him is reflected back on to the god himself\n(~maino/menoi Sa/turoi~, E., _Ba._ 130; cf. the mad nurses of\nDionysos, Nonn., _D._ ix, 38 ff.). It would not be hard to parallel\nthis (e.g. Dionys. who makes men drunk is represented as himself\ndrunk, Ath. 428 E, etc.).]\n\n[5\\8: ~X~ 460, ~mega/roio die/ssuto _maina/di_ i/s\u00ea, pallome/n\u00ea\nkradi/\u00ean~. The evidence of this passage for the familiarity of\nHomer's audience with the nature of the Mainads cannot be set aside\nas Lob., _Agl._ 285, tries to do. The word could only be used as an\n~eik\u00f4/n~ if the thing were often before men's eyes. ~maina/s~,\nindeed, is even something different from, and more specialized than\n~mainome/n\u00ea~ (~Z~ 389).]\n\n[6\\8: The view that ~mai/nesthai~ was primitive in the cult of D.,\nthe wine, etc., being added later, was definitely put forward in\n1825 by O. M\u00fcller (_Kl. Schr._ ii, 26 ff.) arguing against J. H.\nVoss. But it is only in quite recent times that in tracing the\norigin of the religion of Dionysos occasional inquirers have taken\nthis view as their starting point: cf. esp. Voigt in his noteworthy\ntreatment of Dionysos in Roscher's _Myth. Lex._ i, 1029 ff.]\n\n[7\\8: ~ho\\s mai/nesthai ena/gei anthr\u00f4/pous~, Hdt. iv, 79.] {268}\n\n[8\\8: E.g. the Odrysai, who, however, lived further north in the\nHebros valley; Mela, ii, 17, mentions distinctly the mountain chains\nof Haimos, Rhodope, and Orbelos as sacris Liberi patris et coetu\nMaenadum celebratos.]\n\n[9\\8: Lob., _Agl._ 289 ff.]\n\n[10\\8: Sabazios: ~Saba/zion to\\n Dio/nuson hoi Thra=|kes kalou=sin~\nSch. Ar., _Ves._ 9; cf. Sch. Ar., _Lys._ 388; D.S. 4, 4, 1; Harp.\n~Saboi/~; Alex. Polyh. ap. Macr. i, 18, 11 (_Sebadius_: cf. Apul.,\n_M._ viii, 25, p. 150, 11 Ey. The original form of this name seems\nto have been _Savos_, _Savadios_, Kretschmer, _Einleitung in. d.\n**Gesch. d. griech. Spr._ 195 f.; Usener, _G\u00f6tternamen_ 44). Sabos,\nPhot. p. 495, 11-12 Pors. Hesych. s.v.; Orph., _H._ 49, 2, etc. The\nfact that others could call Sabazios a Phrygian god (Amphitheos ~p.\nH\u00earaklei/os b'~ ap. Sch. Ar., _Av._ 874; Str. 470; Hsch. s.v.), only\nserves to bring out more clearly the opinion, unanimously held even\nin antiquity, that the Thracians and the Phrygians were closely\nrelated. Sabazios (besides being identified with Helios: Alex.\nPolyh. l.c.; cf. Soph. _fr._ 523 N.), as the supreme and almighty\ngod of the Thracians, was even called ~_Zeu\\s_ Saba/zios~ (Val. Max.\ni, 3, 2), esp. on inss. (a few are given in Rapp, _Dionysoscult_\n[Progr.] p. 21; cf. also ins. from Peiraeus ~Eph. Arch.~ 1883, p.\n245; _Ins. Pergam._ i, 248, 33, 49: from Pisidia, _Papers of the\nAmer. School at Athens_, ii, p. 54, 56. _Jovi Sabazio_, Orelli,\n_Ins._ 1259). We even find ~Zeu\\s Ba/kchos, Zeu\\s H\u00ea/lios~ (_BCH._\nvi, 189).--The name ~Saba/zios~ was derived from ~saba/zein =\neua/zein, dia\\ to\\n geno/menon peri\\ auto\\n euasmo/n (theiasmo/n)~:\nSch. Ar., _Av._ 874; _Lys._ 388. So, too, ~Ba/kchos~ was on this\nview only another way of expressing the same meaning; since this\nname also was derived by the ancients from ~ba/zein = eua/zein~ (it\nis really from the root ~wach (ache/\u00f4) Ba/kchos~, with\n\"affrication\"; a reduplicated form of it is ~wiwachos, I/akchos,\niache/\u00f4, iakche/\u00f4~; cf. Curtius, _Griech. Etym._^5, p. 460, 576).\nOther names of the Thracian Dionysos are the following: ~Bassareu/s\n(Ba/ssaros~, Orph., _H._ 45, 2), derived from ~bassa/ra~ the long\ndress (made of skin?) worn by the ~Bassari/des = Thra/|kiai\nba/kchai~, _AB._ 222, 26 f.; Hsch. s.v. ~Bassa/rai~ and _EM._ s.v.\n(the last compiled from Orion and Sch. Lyc. 771). Other accounts\n(not contradicting in this point the statement of Hsch.) made it the\ndress worn by the god himself: Sch. Pers. i, 101. (The ~Bassareu/s~\nwas generally described as bearded and even _senili specie_, like\nthe representation of Dionysos himself in the oldest Greek art:\nMacr. i, 18, 9.) If ~Bassareu/s~ means \"the wearer of the long\nfox-skin\" we should be strongly reminded of the--also Thracian--god\n~_Za/lmolxis_ (Za/lmoxis)~, whose name was derived from ~zalmo/s =\ndora\\ a/rktou~ (Porph., _VP._ 14, though this comes only from\nAntonius Diogenes 6), and probably means \"he who is cloaked in the\nbearskin\" (see Fick, _Spracheinh. d. Indog. Europ._, p. 418; Hehn,\n_Culturpflanz._ 428 E.T.).--~Gi/g\u00f4n~ a name of Dionysos, _EM._ 231,\n28: perhaps a name given to the god in the city Gigonos mentioned in\nthe same passage, and the ~a/kra Gi/g\u00f4nis~ at the western end of the\nThracian Chalkidike.--_EM._ 186, 32, is too short to be\nintelligible: ~balia/; diapoi/kilos. kai\\ to\\n Dio/nuson\nThra=|kes.--Du/alos Dio/nusos para\\ Pai/osin~, Hesych.]\n\n[11\\8: At any rate the people whom Thuc., Ephoros, and others call\nThracians and regarded as having been once settled in Phokis,\nBoeotia, etc., are undoubtedly to be considered Thracians--and not\nthe impossibly honest and exemplary people, a creation of the fancy,\nthe \"Thracians of the Muses\", alleged to be quite distinct from the\nreal Thracian peoples, of whom we have heard so much since K. O.\n{269} M\u00fcller (_Orchom._ 379 ff.) introduced the idea. Antiquity only\nknew of one kind of Thracian. In the Homeric poems they are not so\ndifferent from the Greeks in civilization as they were in later\ntimes, when we know them from the accounts of Herod. and Xen. For\nall that they are the same people. They seem in the course of time\nto have degenerated, or rather they have not shared in the progress\nmade by others and so have remained backward (even behind their\nPhrygian relatives who wandered to Asia Minor and achieved a higher\nculture under Semitic influence). In fact, like the Keltoi, they were\nnever able to get beyond a condition of semi-civilization.]\n\n[12\\8: ~mani/as epag\u00f4go\\n homokla/n~. Aesch. in the ~\u00cad\u00f4noi/~ ap.\nStr. 470-1 (_fr._ 57), is the locus classicus for the music in the\n_Thracian_ festival of Dionysos. Apart from this it is impossible to\ndistinguish in the accounts given by our ancient authorities,\nbetween the strictly Thracian festival and the _ideal_ generalized\nfestival of Dionysos (not the mitigated ceremonial actually used in\nthe festival in Greece. They merge completely into each other.]\n\n[13\\8: ~saba/zein = eua/zein~, Schol. Ar., _Av._ 874; _Lys._ 388.]\n\n[14\\8: ~hai Ba/kchai sig\u00f4=sin~. Diogen., _Prov._ iii, 43.]\n\n[15\\8: Complete revolution round one's own axis, as in the dance of\na dervish, is known at least only in the more fanatic\ndance-festivals of antiquity: ~stroph\u00ea\\n holos\u00f4/maton h\u00f4/sper hoi\n_ka/tochoi_ dineu/ontes~, Heliod. 4, 17, p. 116, 1 Bk. ~_di/n\u00easis_\nt\u00f4=n theophor\u00ea/t\u00f4n~ in Phrygia: Horus ap. _EM._ 276, 32. Crusius,\n_Philol._ 55, 565, compares besides Verg., _A._ vii, 377 ff.; Alex.\nAphr., _Prob._, p. 6 Us. In the Spartan dance ~diamale/as~ (?)\nSeilenoi and Satyrs appeared ~orchou/menoi hupo/trocha [peri/trocha~\nacc. to Meineke: perhaps better]. Poll. 4, 104.]\n\n[16\\8: E., _Ba._ 116 ff., 664 ff. Thracian: assiduis Edonis fessa\nchoreis qualis in herboso concidit Apidano, Prop. 1, 3, 5 f.]\n\n[17\\8: Bassaris: Thracian acc. to Sch. Pers. i, 101; worn by\n~ba/kchai~ Hsch. ~bassa/rai~. Lydian, too: ~ho/stis chit\u00f4=nas\nbassa/ras te Ludi/as echei pod\u00ea/reis~, A. ~en \u00cad\u00f4nois~, _fr._ 59;\ncf. Poll. 7, 59. \"Perhaps a Phrygian word that has penetrated into\nLydia,\" Kretschmer, _Einleitung_, 390. The worship of Dionysos which\nhad also presumably come from Phrygia, was esp. popular in Lydia.]\n\n[18\\8: Familiar in the Bacchic ceremonial of Greece; but occurring\nalready in Thrace: Aesch. ~en \u00cad\u00f4noi/~ (dealing entirely with\nThracian customs) mentions the ~nebri/des~, and in the same place\nhas ~aigi/das~ as well (_fr._ 64).]\n\n[19\\8: The ~Ba/kchai~ of Macedonia and the ~Mimallo/nes~, in all\nrespects resembling the Thracian Bacchants, ~keratophorou=si kata\\\nmi/m\u00easin Dionu/sou~: Sch. Lyc. 1237 (~Laphusti/as keraspho/rous\ngunai=kas~).]\n\n[20\\8: Mentis inops rapitur, quales audire solemus Threicias passis\nMaenadas ire comis, Ov., _F._ iv, 457 f.]\n\n[21\\8: Thphr. _Ch._ 16 (28, p. 141 Jebb); Artemid. 2, 13, p. 106, 9\nH.]\n\n[22\\8: Snakes and daggers are found in the hands of the ~mimallo/nes\nkai\\ bassa/rai kai\\ ludai/~ in the train of Ptol. Philad.:\nKallixenos ap. Ath. 198 E. Snakes and ~thu/rsoi~ belong to the\nparaphernalia of the ~e/nochoi toi=s Orphikoi=s kai\\ toi=s peri\\\nto\\n Dio/nuson orgiasmoi=s gunai=kes~ in Macedonia, and of the\n~Kl\u00f4/d\u00f4nes kai\\ Mimallo/nes~ who ~polla\\ toi=s \u00cad\u00f4ni/si kai\\ tai=s\nperi\\ to\\n Hai=mon _Thr\u00ea/|ssais ho/moia_ dr\u00f4=sin~, Plu., _Alex._ 2\n(in connexion with the snake of Olympias. She was especially given\nto the Thrako-Dionysian mysteries: cf. the letter of Olympias to\nAlexander, Ath. 659 F).--~thu/rsoi~ of the Macedonian ~Mimallo/nes~:\nPolyaen. 4, 1; Sch. Pers. 1, 99.--\"Even now\" the thyrsos wands are\ndecked with ivy in the _Thraciae populis sollemnibus sacris_, Plin.,\n{270} _NH._ xvi, 144.--The ~na/rth\u00eax~ of the thyrsos is really a\nshepherd's staff: Clem. Al., _Protr._ ii, p. 14 P.]\n\n[23\\8: Eur., _Ba._ 735 ff. and frequently.]\n\n[24\\8: ~katochai\\ kai\\ enthousiasmoi/~ in the Thrako-Macedonian\nworship of Dionysos: Plu., _Alex._ 2. (The Mimallones _imitantur\nfurorem Liberi_, Sch., Pers. i, 99.) ~hoi t\u00f4=| Sabazi/\u00f4| ka/tochoi~:\nPorph. ap. Iamb. _de Myst._ 3, 9, p. 117, 16. ~ba/kchos; ho\nmani\u00f4/d\u00eas~, Eust. ~d~ 249; ~b~ 16. ~Kl\u00f4/d\u00f4nes~ is the name given to\nthe ~maina/des kai\\ ba/kchai apo\\ tou= _kato/chous_ ginome/nas\nkl\u00f4/zein~, _EM._ 521, 50. ~hoi ka/tochoi toi=s peri\\ to\\n Dio/nuson\norgiasmoi=s~, Plu., _Is. et Os._ 35, p. 364 F.]\n\n[25\\8: ~hoi bakcheuo/menoi kai\\ korubanti\u00f4=ntes enthousia/zousi\nme/chris a\\n to\\ pothou/menon _i/d\u00f4sin_~, Philo, _Vit. Cont._ 2, ii,\np. 473 M.]\n\n[26\\8: So too the wild shaking and whirling-round of the head, which\nacc. to innumerable literary and pictorial descriptions was a\nregular feature of the Bacchic dance and cult, must have\ncontributed--and was so intended--to bring about the condition of\necstasy and frenzy (~rhipsau/cheni su\\n klo/n\u00f4|~, Pi., _fr._ 208;\n~kra=ta sei=sai~, E., _Ba._ 185, etc.).--How such fanatic shaking of\nthe head, if kept up for along time, is by itself sufficient, in\npersons naturally predisposed to it, to bring on complete religious\n~e/kstasis~, may be learnt from a remarkable account in Moreau _du\nhachisch_, p. 290 ff., derived from personal observation in the\nEast.]\n\n[27\\8: The object of the trieteric festival of Dionysos (repeated\nevery second year) held in so many places in Greece (cf. Weniger,\n_Dionysosdienst in Elis_, Progr. 1883, p. 8) was to celebrate the\n_presence_ of the god. This is clearly shown by D.S. 4, 3, 2, who\nalso attributes the trieteric festival to the Thracians: ~tou\\s\nBoi\u00f4tou\\s kai\\ tou\\s a/llous He/ll\u00eanas kai\\ _Thra=|kas_ . . .\nkatadei=xai ta\\s triet\u00eari/das thusi/as Dionu/s\u00f4| kai\\ to\\n theo\\n\nnomi/zein kata\\ to\\n chro/non tou=ton poiei=sthai ta\\s para\\ toi=s\nanthr\u00f4/pois _epiphanei/as_~. At this time women and maidens\ncelebrated ~t\u00ea\\n _parousi/an_ tou= Dionu/sou~. (In the archaic song\nof the Elean women the Bull-god is thus called upon: Plu., _QG._ 36,\n299 A; _Is. et Os._ 35, p. 364 F; whereupon the Eleans believed that\n~to\\n theo/n sphisin epiphoita=n es t\u00f4=n Thui/\u00f4n t\u00ea\\n heort\u00ea/n~:\nPaus. 6, 26, 1.)--For Bakchos amongst the dancers see E., _Ba._ 185\nff., 306 f., and often. At the trieteric festival at Delphi\n~Dio/nusos . . . Parnaso\\n kata\\ **p\u00eada=| choreu/ei parthe/nois su\\n\nDelphi/sin~, E., _Hypsip._ _fr._ 752. And so often in poetry: see\nNauck on S., _OT._ 213; _Ant._ 1126 ff.--Thracian trieteric\nfestival: tuo motae proles Semeleia thyrso Ismariae celebrant\nrepetita triennia bacchae, Ov., _M._ ix, 641 f.; tempus erat, quo\nsacra solent trieterica Baccho Sithoniae celebrare nurus; nox\nconscia sacris, etc., vi, 587.]\n\n[28\\8: ~aphanismo/s~ followed by ~epipha/neia~ of Dionysos\nrepresent, as we frequently learn, the varying relationship of the\ngod with mankind. These are alternating and periodically repeated,\nand they are reflected in the trieteric period of the festivals. It\nis customary to explain this disappearance and return of the god as\nan allegorical typification of the destruction and restoration of\nvegetation. There is no reason at all to believe this, except for\nthose who regard the doctrines of the Greek \"Religion of Nature\" as\ninfallible axioms. The god is simply, and in the literal sense of\nthe words, regarded as removed for a time from the world of men,\nduring which period he is in the world of spirits. In the same way\nApollo, according to the Delphic legend, is carried away from the\nhuman world for certain periods: he lives during that time among the\nHyperboreans, whose land is inaccessible to mortal foot or ship. We\nought not to be afraid to make use of the light thrown on these\nmatters by parallel legends of the temporary disappearance {271} of\ngods among uncivilized peoples (the god may be sometimes asleep or\nunder constraint; cf. Plu., _Is. et Os._, 69 fin. 378 F); cf. what\nwe are told in Dobrizhoffer's _Gesch. d. Abip._ ii, p. 63 (E.T.),\nabout the beliefs held by the Abipones of Paraguay; or, again, what\nis said of the negro races of West Africa, according to whom the god\nnormally lives in the depths of the earth, but at regularly\nrecurring intervals comes up to visit men; whereupon the members of\na mystical society build him a house, receive his oracles, etc.;\nR\u00e9ville, _Rel. des peuples non-civil._ i, 110-11. Thus Dionysos,\ntoo, is for a time in the underworld, in the world of spirits and\nthe _souls_. This is clearly presupposed by the festival at Lerna,\nin which Dionysos is called up out of the bottomless spring Alkyonia\nby which there was an entrance to Hades (just as the inhabitants of\nKos every year ~anakalou=ntai~ Hylas out of his spring, i.e. from\nthe underworld: H. T\u00fcrk, _De Hyla_, p. 3 f.; Welcker, _Kl. Schr._ i,\n12; and see Maass, _Litt. Ztg._ 1896, 7-8). Hence also in Lerna a\nlamb was offered as a victim ~t\u00f4=| pulao/ch\u00f4|~, i.e. to Hades\nhimself, and was thrown into the spring (Plu., _Is. et Os._ 35, p.\n368 F, quoting Sokrates ~peri\\ t\u00f4=n Hosi/\u00f4n~; _Smp._ 4, 6, 2, p. 671\nE; Paus. 2, 36, 7; 37, 5-6). Because he is in the realm of the dead\na pragmatical myth represented him as slain by Perseus and thrown\ninto the spring of Lerna: Lob., _Agl._ 574. In Delphi, too,\nsomething was known of the death and reawakening of Dionysos, but we\nhave in Orph., _H._ 53, a quite unambiguous expression of the real\nconception, acc. to which D. \"rested in the house of Persephone\",\nand appears again in the upper world at the time of the trieteric\nfestival when he ~egei/rei~ his ~k\u00f4=mon, eua/z\u00f4n kin\u00f4=n te\nchorou/s~. We may be all the more certain that the same idea is to\nbe attributed to the trieteric festival in Thrace, since the same\nbelief exactly occurs again in the legend of the Thracian (Getic)\ngod Zalmoxis (see below)--he was believed to have disappeared into\nhis infernal kingdom among the spirits and souls and to have made\nperiodical returns to the world of the living. The reason why\nDionysos, as worshipped both in Thracian and Greek trieteric\nfestivals, stops for a time in the underworld of the souls, is clear\nenough: that too was his realm. We can now understand why it is that\nDionysos is also ruler over the souls and can be called ~Zagreu\\s,\nNukte/lios, Isodai/t\u00eas~: i.e. he is simply given names of Hades\nhimself (Plu., _E ap. D._ ix, p. 389 A). His real character of master\nof the souls and spirits (~a/nax, h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~), as it had been\noriginally in the Thracian cult, was thus **preserved, in spite of\nmuch alteration in its Greek form, partly in Greek local cults,\npartly in the Orphic cult of Dionysos.--There is a legend which is\nbased on a reminiscence of this periodic disappearance of Dionysos\nto the underworld, viz. the thoroughly Greek story of his descent on\na single occasion into Hades in order to bring back Semele.\nElsewhere his disappearance into the realm of the spirits gave rise\nto the legend of his escape and flight to the Muses; this was spoken\nof in the _Agrionia_ at Chaironeia (Plu., _Smp._ 8 Praef.).]\n\n[29\\8: Cf. Eur., _Ba._ 920 ff., 1020 f.]\n\n[30\\8: ~tauro/phthoggoi d' hupomuk\u00f4=ntai/ pothen ex aphanou=s\nphoberoi\\ mi=moi~: A. ~\u00cad\u00f4noi/~ describing the Thracian worship of\nD. (_fr._ 57). This was \"certainly intended to increase for the\nparticipants in the festival the feeling of the god's presence and\nthus to add to the wildness of their orgies\", as Rapp, _Dionysosc._,\n19, very rightly observes. The invisible bellowing bull is the god\nhimself. (Dionysos appears as a bull to the insane Pentheus: E.,\n_Ba._ 920 ff.).--\"The Batloka, a tribe in the Northern Transvaal,\nhold a yearly festival of the dead in which {272} hidden magicians\nmake weird sounds with flutes which the people take for the voice of\nspirits; they say 'Modimo is there'.\" Schneider, _Relig. d. Afrikan.\nNaturv._ 143.]\n\n[31\\8: The women taking part in the trieteric festival of the god\nplay the part of the ~maina/des~ in his train; D.S. 4, 3, 3.\nImitation of the ~Nu/mphai te kai\\ Pa=nes kai\\ Seil\u00eanoi\\ kai\\\nSa/turoi~ in the ~bakchei/a~: Pl., _Lg._ 815 C. What was afterwards\nmerely a piece of traditional ritual was originally without doubt a\nreal hallucination of the ~ka/tochoi~.--The idea that a throng,\n~thi/asos~, of wood-spirits Satyrs and Seilenoi danced about the God\nmust also have been common in the Thracian cult (~sugchoreuetai\\\nDionu/sou~, Ael., _VH._ iii, 40; ~ho t\u00f4=| Dionu/s\u00f4| parepo/menos\no/chlos~, Ath. 362 E. ~saua/dai~ (obviously related to ~Saba/zios~;\ncf. Usener, _G\u00f6tternamen_, 44 f.) was the name given to ~hoi\nseil\u00eanoi/~ by the Macedonians, who in the practice of\nDionysos-worship were entirely dependent upon the Thracians. Hsch.\ns.v., cf. Hdt. viii, 138 fin.]\n\n[32\\8: The ~bakcheu/ontes t\u00f4=| the\u00f4=|~ (i.e. Sabazios, Sabos) are\ncalled ~sa/boi kai\\ sa/bai kai\\ saba/zioi~: Phot. ~sabou/s~; cf.\nEust., ~b~ 16, p. 1431, 46. Harp. (Phot.) s. ~sa/boi~; Phot.\n~parasaba/zein~ (p. 383, 16 Pors.); Sch. Ar., _Av._ 874. This\nidentification of the god with his ecstatic worshippers belongs to\nthe Phrygian cult of Kybele as well. Just as the goddess is called\n~Kub\u00ea/b\u00ea~ so ~ho katecho/menos t\u00ea=| m\u00eatri\\ t\u00f4=n the\u00f4=n~ is called\n~Ku/b\u00eabos~: Phot. ~Ku/b\u00eabos, ku/b\u00eabon~, Eust. ~b~ 16. Thus the\nGreeks in calling the ecstatic worshippers of Bakchos by the name of\nthe god were only adopting the conceptions and vocabulary of the\nThracian religion of inspiration into their Dionysos-worship which\nwas modelled on the Thracian cult. ~Ba/kchos~ is their name for the\n~orgiast\u00ea\\s tou= theou=~ (etymologically connected is ~baba/kt\u00eas\n[krau/gasos, ho/then kai\\ Ba/kchos~ Hsch.] a Phrygian word for the\nfrenzied priest of Kybele: and therefore = ~Ku/b\u00eabos~; cf. Ribbeck,\n_Alazon_, p. 86). It appears that the ~ba/kchoi~ of Dionysos were\noften called by the old Thracian name ~sa/boi~: ~sa/bous kai\\ nu=n\ne/ti polloi\\ tou\\s ba/kchous kalou=sin~, Plu., _Smp._ 4, 6, 2, p.\n671 F (~Laphu/stioi~ is also a name given, after ~Dio/nusos\nLaphu/stios~, to the ~Ba/kchoi~ who worship him: Lyc. 1237 with\nSch.).]\n\n[33\\8: ~Dio/nusos \u00f4ma/dios~ (Porph., _Abs._ ii, 55), ~\u00f4m\u00east\u00ea/s~\n(Plu., _Them._ 13), ~laphu/stios, tauropha/gos~ (Soph. _fr._ 607\nN.).--At other times we catch a glimpse of the idea that the god\nhimself is the torn and devoured bull (just as in many ancient\nworships the proper victim of the god is the animal most homogeneous\nwith him): this is evidently the most primitive form of\n~en-thousiasmo/s~, the primeval symbolism of a mystic worship that,\nlike all mysticism, desires to take personal possession of the God.]\n\n[34\\8: Dionysos himself also carries the thyrsos (as often in\nsculpture): E., _Hyps. fr._ 752, etc.]\n\n[35\\8: See above, n. 19 (~ho bou/ker\u00f4s I/akchos~, Soph., _fr._ 874,\n~tauro/ker\u00f4s theo/s~, E., _Ba._ 100). The Greek Dionysos is often\ndescribed as bull-shaped and horned: this, too, in imitation of\nThracian belief. It is _Sabazios_ whom they ~kerasti/an\npareisa/gousi~, D.S. 4, 4, 2; cf. 3, 64, 2. ~Hu/\u00ea| tauroke/r\u00f4ti~,\nEuphor. _fr._ 14.--An allusion in D.S. 4, 4, 2, seems to suggest\nthat the god, the ~murio/morphos~, was also (like Attis) regarded as\na herdsman. Something of the sort may be referred to in the\nunintelligible lines quoted by Cl. Al., _Prot._ ii, p. 14 P.,\napparently in connexion with the Sabazios mysteries. So Dionysos,\ntoo, is sometimes thought of as a ~bouko/los~: ~poime/ni d'\nagrau/l\u00f4n tau/r\u00f4n, Dio\\s aigio/choio huie/i kissochi/t\u00f4ni~ are words\nused of him in [Orph.] _Lith._ 260. Again, in imitation of the god\nhimself his ~mu/stai~ are ~bouko/loi~ on the inscriptions from Asia\nMinor (_Ins. Perg._ ii, 485-8) and Thrace, of {273} which R. Sch\u00f6ll\nspeaks, _de commun. et coll. Graecis_ (Satura philol. Saupp.), p.\n178 ff. ~boukoliko/s~ occurs among the cult officials in the\n_Iobakcheia_ at Athens: _Ath. Mitth._, 1894, p. 260, l. 122;\n_archibucolos dei Liberi_ on inscriptions of the city of Rome.\n~bouko/los~ and ~boukolei=n~ occur in connexion with Bacchic worship\nas early as Kratinos, Aristoph., and Eurip.: ~nuktipo/lou Zagre/\u00f4s\nbou/tas~, E., _Cret. fr._ 472, 11 (acc. to Diels). See Crusius, _Rh.\nM._ 45, 266 f.; Dieterich _de hymnis Orph._ (Marb. 1891), p. 3 ff.]\n\n[36\\8: The special flute-melodies going under the name of Olympos\nwere called _~thei=a~_ ([Pl.] _Min._ 318 B); ~_kate/chesthai_\npoiei=~ (Pl., _Smp._ 215 C); ~homologoume/n\u00f4s poiei= ta\\s psucha\\s\n_enthousiastika/s_~ (Arist., _Pol._ 1340a 10). Cic., _Div._ i, 114:\nergo et ei quorum animi, spretis corporibus, evolant atque excurrunt\nforas, ardore aliquo incitati atque inflammati, cernunt illa\nprofecto quae vaticinantes praenuntiant: multisque rebus\ninflammantur tales animi qui corporibus non inhaerent: ut ei qui\nsono quodam vocum et Phrygiis cantibus incitantur. An unmistakable\ndescription of what was meant by ~e/kstasis~ and Korybantic frenzy\n(see below).]\n\n[37\\8: i.e. those who are ~enthousiasmou= katak\u00f4/chimoi~, as\nAristotle knew them; certain ~manikai\\ diathe/seis~ are known to\nPlato. Somewhat similar is the ~phu/sis theia/zousa~ which according\nto Demokritos [D. Chr. 36, 1] _fr._ 21 Diels, belongs to the\ninspired poet.]\n\n[38\\8: The drunkenness of the Thracians and their ancient\ncultivation of the vine are well known. They even brewed beer from\nbarley: Ath. 547 BC (cf. Hehn, _Culturpflanzen_, p. 121 E.T.). The\nprophetai (prophesying in \"enthusiasm\") of a Thracian oracle\nprophesied _plurimo mero sumpto_, Aristot. ap. Macr. 1, 18, 1.--Even\nthe women drank unmixed wine in Thrace: Pl., _Lg._ 637 E.]\n\n[39\\8: Mela, 2, 21 (and from him Solin. 10, 5, p. 75, 16 Mom.) says\nof the Thracians epulantibus ubi super ignes quos circumsident\nquaedam semina ingesta sunt, similis ebrietati hilaritas ex nidore\ncontingit (cf. [Plu.] _de Flu._ 3, 3). There can be no doubt that it\nwas hemp-seed (~ka/nnabis~) which had this effect. Hdt. iv, 74, says\nexpressly that the Thracians knew hemp. It was thus with a sort of\nhashish that they intoxicated themselves (hashish is an extract of\n_cannabis indica_). The Scythians did something similar: Hdt. tells\nof their vapour-baths in tightly closed huts (iv, 75): they produced\na smoke by laying hempseeds on red-hot stones and--though Hdt. does\nnot say so--must necessarily have got into a state of wild\nintoxication. This may have been a religious performance.\nDrunkenness is generally regarded by savage tribes as a religiously\ninspired condition. Further, the Scythian practice has the most\nstriking parallel in the use of \"vapour-huts\" among the North\nAmerican Indians, in which case the religious intention is certain\n(see the account in Klemm, _Culturg._ ii, 175-8; J. G. M\u00fcller,\n_Amerik. Urrelig._ 92). Hdt. i, 202, also mentions intoxication from\nthe fumes of certain \"fruits\" among the Massagetai; these last,\nafter they had completely bemused themselves, stood up to dance and\nsing. The Thracians, too, may very well have used intoxication\nthrough hashish-fumes as a means of exciting themselves to their\necstatic religious dances.--The ancients were quite familiar with\nthe practice of inhaling aromatic smoke to produce religious\nhallucinations: [Galen] ~ho/r. iatr.~ 187 (xix, p. 462 K)\n~enthousiasmo/s esti katha/per exi/stantai/ tines epi\\ (hupo\\?)\n_t\u00f4=n hupothumi\u00f4me/n\u00f4n_ en toi=s hieroi=s, \n~hor\u00f4=ntes \u00ea\\ tumpa/n\u00f4n \u00ea\\ aul\u00f4=n \u00ea\\ sumbo/l\u00f4n~ (scr. ~kumba/l\u00f4n~)\nakou/ontes~; cf. odorum delenimento potest animus humanus externari,\nApul., _Ap._ 43.--For the use of smoke in the {274} Korybantic\nceremonies see below.--The ~gaga/t\u00eas li/thos hupothumiathei/s~ is\nuseful as an ~epil\u00eaptik\u00f4=n e/legchos~ (Dioscor. v, 145); it brings\non the convulsions of the victim of ~hiera\\ no/sos~ (epilepsy)\n[Orph.] _L._ 478 ff. (cf. further Damigeron, _de Lap._ 20, p. 179\nAb.; Plin., _NH._ 36, 141; and also Gal. xii, p. 203 K.).]\n\n[40\\8: Polak, _Persien_, ii, 245 ff.--We have only to read the\naccounts derived from personal experience of the sensations and\nhallucinatory states accompanying hashish-smoking--such as those\ngiven, for instance, by Moreau (de Tours) _Du hachisch et de\nl'ali\u00e9nation mentale_ (Paris, 1845), esp. pp. 23 ff., 51 ff., 59\nff., 90, 147 ff., 151 ff., 369 ff.--to have a complete parallel to\nthe condition which underlay Bacchic excitement. There, too, is the\ncomplete ~e/kstasis~ of the spirit, a waking dream-state, an\n~oligochro/nios mani/a~. It only requires the special tone and\ncharacter given to the hallucinations and illusions by deep-rooted\nreligious or fanciful conceptions--and the external machinery for\ncultivating such illusions--to make them an exact equivalent of the\ndelirious condition of the real ~ba/kchoi~ at the nightly festival\nof Dionysos. (The helpless state of impressionability to\noutward--e.g. musical--and inward influences is a marked feature of\nthe intoxication and _fantasia_ of hashish.) Other narcotics also\nhave similar effects (Moreau, p. 184 ff.).]\n\n[41\\8: Pl., _Ion_, 534 A (perhaps an allusion to the words of\nAischines Socr. in the ~Alkibia/d\u00eas~ [Aristid. _Rh._ ii, 23 f.\nDind.]).]\n\n[42\\8: E., _Ba._ 142 f., 706 ff. (144 ~Suri/as d' h\u00f4s liba/nou\nkapno/s~).]\n\n[43\\8: Anaesthesia of the Bakchai: ~epi\\ de\\ bostru/chois pu=r\ne/pheron oud' e/kaien~, _Ba._ 757 f.--suum Bacche non sentit saucia\nvolnus, dum stupet Edonis exululata iugis, Ov., _Tr._ 4, 1, 41 f.\nqualis deo percussa maenas . . . atque expers sui volnus dedit nec\nsensit, Sen., _Troad._ 682 ff. Similar insensibility to pain\n(certainly not always feigned) was shown in their ekstasis by the\nself-wounding _galli_ of Kybele, the priests and priestesses of M\u00e2\n(Tibull. 1, 6, 45 ff.)--something of the sort is reported of the\nprophets of Baal (1 _Kings_ xviii, 28). See in general on the\nsubject of anaesthesia and the ~orth\u00f4=s katecho/menoi hupo\\ t\u00f4=n\nthe\u00f4=n~, Iamb., _Myst._ 3, 4, p. 110 Par. In the case of the\nshamans, the Indian Yogis, the dervishes, and the natives of North\nAmerica the existence of such states of insensibility in religious\nexcitement has been actually observed.]\n\n[44\\8: ~katecho/menos ek tou= theou=~ (Pl., _Men._ 99 D; X., _Sym._\ni, 10. ~katecho/menoi h\u00f4/sper hai ba/kchai~, Pl., _Ion_, 534 A;\n_Sym._ 215 C. ~mane/nti te kai\\ kataschome/n\u00f4|~, _Phdr._ 244 E. ~h\u00ea\nd' aphro\\n exiei=sa kai\\ diastro/phous ko/ras heli/ssous', ou\nphronou=s' ha\\ chr\u00ea=n phronei=n, ek Bakchi/ou _katei/cheto_~, E.,\n_Ba._ 1122 ff. ~ka/tochoi~ above, n. 24.]\n\n[45\\8: ~e/ntheo/s te gi/gnetai kai\\ _e/kphr\u00f4n kai\\ ho nou=s ouke/ti\nen aut\u00f4=| e/nestin_~, Pl., _Ion_, 534 B (where it is applied to the\ninspired poet but properly belongs to the Bakchai).]\n\n[46\\8: ~e/kstasis, exi/stasthai~ is often used of the inspired\nstate. ~mai/nesthai, enthousia=n, e/ntheon gi/nesthai, ekst\u00ea=nai~\nare all used in the same sense and apply to the \"inspired\" prophets\n(~Ba/kides, Si/bullai~) and the poets: Arist., _Prob._ 30, 1, p.\n954a, 34-9. ~exi/statai kai\\ mai/netai~, Arist. _HA._ 6, 22, p.\n577a, 12. The religious ~orgiasmoi/, eksta/sias psucha=s epa/gonti~:\nPhintys ap. Stob., _Fl._ iv, 23, 61a, p. 593 H. ~e/kstasis~ is a\nstate in which the soul seems estranged from itself; when the\n~oikei=ai kin\u00ea/seis ouk enochlou=ntai all' aporrapi/zontai~ (Arist.,\n_Pa. Nat._ 464a, 25). The word became weak and commonplace enough in\nlater usage, but it was evidently meant, originally, to express the\n\"exit\" of the \"soul\" from its body. In the same way the phrase used\nof one who {275} goes off into a faint: ~to\\n d' e/lipen psuch\u00ea/~\noriginally meant the same thing and was so understood, see above\n(chap. i, n. 8). The same idea occurs again in _P. Mag. Par._, l.\n725, p. 63 Wessely: ~ hupe/klutos d' e/sei t\u00ea=| psuch\u00ea=| kai\\ ouk en\nseaut\u00f4=| e/sei ho/tan soi apokri/n\u00eatai~ [the god conjured up].]\n\n[47\\8: ~e/kstasis estin oligochro/nios mani/a~ [Galen] ~ho/r. iatr.~\n485 (xix, p. 462). ~mani/\u00ea e/kstasi/s esti chro/nios~ Aretaeus,\n_Chr. Pass._ 1, 6, p. 78 K.]\n\n[48\\8: ~Dio/nuson maino/l\u00ean orgia/zousi ba/kchoi, \u00f4mophagi/a| t\u00ea\\n\n_hieromani/an_ a/gontes, kai\\ teli/skousi ta\\s kre\u00f4nomi/as t\u00f4=n\npho/n\u00f4n anestemme/noi toi=s o/phesin epololu/zontes eua/n~, Clem.\nAl., _Protr._ ii, p. 11 P.]\n\n[49\\8: The ~enthousi\u00f4=ntes ek theou= tinos~ become like the god,\n~lamba/nousi ta\\ e/th\u00ea kai\\ ta\\ epit\u00eadeu/mata (tou= theou=),\nkatho/son dunato\\n theou= anthr\u00f4/p\u00f4| metaschei=n~, Pl., _Phdr._ 253\nA. More boldly ~heaut\u00f4=n eksta/ntas ho/lous _enidru=sthai_ toi=s\ntheoi=s kai\\ enthea/zein~, Procl. _in _Rp.__ ii, 108, 23 Kr.--~ouk\ne/kstasis ha/pl\u00f4s hou/t\u00f4s esti/n, alla\\~ (in its positive sense)\n~epi\\ to\\ krei=tton anag\u00f4g\u00ea\\ kai\\ meta/stasis~, Iamb. _Myst._ 3, 7,\np. 114, 9 Parth.]\n\n[50\\8: ~e/ntheoi gunai=kes~ of the Bakchai, S. _Ant._ 963. ~hai\nBa/kchai ho/tan e/ntheoi ge/n\u00f4ntai~--Aesch. Socr. ap. Aristid.,\n_Rh._ (ii, 23 Dind.). ~e/ntheos \u00ea/de h\u00ea mani/\u00ea~ (the religious sort)\nAret., p. 84 K. The essential meaning of ~e/ntheon ei=nai~ (_plenum\nesse deo_) is clearly defined in Sch., E., _Hip._ 141: ~e/ntheoi\nle/gontai hoi hupo\\ pha/smato/s tinos aphairethe/ntes to\\n nou=n,\nkai\\ hup' ekei/nou tou= theou= tou= phasmatopoiou= katecho/menoi\nkai\\ ta\\ dokou=nta kei/n\u00f4| poiou=ntes~. The ~e/ntheos~ is completely\nin the power of the god; the god speaks and acts through him. The\n~e/ntheos~ has lost his consciousness of himself; like the ~thei=oi\na/ndres~ (which phrase in Plato has the same meaning as ~e/ntheoi\na/ndres~) esp. the ~theoma/nteis, le/gousi me\\n al\u00eath\u00ea= kai\\ polla/,\ni/sasi d' oude\\n h\u00f4=n le/gousi~, Pl., _Men._ 99 C. (Philo, _Spec.\nLeg._ ii, p. 343 M., says of the inspired prophet: ~enthousia=|\ngegon\u00f4\\s en agnoi/a|, metanistame/nou me\\n tou= logismou= . . .\nepipephoit\u00eako/tos de\\ kai\\ en\u00f4|k\u00eako/tos tou= thei/ou pneu/matos kai\\\npa=san t\u00ea=s ph\u00f4/n\u00eas organopoi\u00ef/an krou/ontos ktl.~; cf. Iamb.,\n_Myst._ 3, 4, p. 109.)]\n\n[51\\8: ~e/ntheoi ma/nteis~ (Bakides, Sibyllai Arist., _Prb._ 30, 2,\n954a, 37. ~theoma/nteis~ Pl., _Men._ ad fin. ~mantik\u00ea\\ kata\\ to\\\ne/ntheon, ho/per esti\\n entheastiko/n~ [Plu.] _Plac. Phil._ 5, 1, 1\n[_Dox._, p. 415].]\n\n[52\\8: ~ma/ntis d' ho dai/m\u00f4n ho/de~ (Dionysos)~; to\\ ga\\r\nbakcheu/simon kai\\ to\\ mani\u00f4=des mantik\u00ea\\n poll\u00ea\\n e/chei; ho/tan\nga\\r ho theo\\s eis to\\ s\u00f4=m' e/lth\u00ea| polu/s, le/gein to\\ me/llon\ntou\\s mem\u00eano/tas poiei=~, E., _Ba._ 298 ff. Here the inner\nrelationship of the inspiration _mantik\u00ea_ and the \"possession\" which\ntook place in ecstatic frenzy is expressed with all possible\nclearness (drunkenness is surely not referred to!). This is how\nPlu., _Smp._ 7, 10, p. 716 B, also understood Eur. Prophesying\nMainads: ~maina/das thuosko/ous~ E., _Ba._ 224--~oudei\\s e/nnous\nepha/ptetai mantik\u00ea=s enthe/ou kai\\ al\u00eathou=s, all' \u00ea\\ kath' hu/pnon\nt\u00ea\\n t\u00ea=s phron\u00ea/se\u00f4s ped\u00eathei\\s du/namin \u00ea\\ dia\\ no/son \u00ea\\ dia/\ntina _enthousiasmo\\n_ paralla/xas~, Pl., _Ti._ 71 E. ~nos\u00ea/mata\nmantika\\ \u00ea\\ enthousiastika/~ make inspired ~ma/nteis~ what they are:\nArist. _Prob._ 954a, 35. Such _mantik\u00ea_ takes place in the state of\nfuror, cum a corpore animus abstractus divino instinctu concitatur,\nCic., _Div._ i, 66. A famous case is that of Kassandra from whom the\ndeus inclusus corpore humano, non iam Cassandra loquitur, \u00a7 67; cf.\nthe Sibyl who prophesies ~mainome/n\u00f4| sto/mati~ (Heraclit. _fr._ 12\nBy. = 92 D.) and the Pythia at Delphi prophesying in a state of\n~mani/a~. For the prophecy of Korybantic Phrygians possessed and\n\"frenzied\", see Arrian ap. Eust., on D.P. 809.]\n\n[53\\8: Hdt. vii, 111 (for Hdt. the ~B\u00eassoi/~ seem to be a division,\nperhaps a clan, of the Satrai. Polyb., Strabo, Pliny, Dio C., and\nothers know them as an independent Thracian tribe: ~pro/mantis gun\u00ea\\\nchre/ousa kata/per en Delphoi=si~--which means that she prophesied\nin ecstasy, for that is what the Pythia at Delphi did. (See Sch.\nAr., _Plut._ 39; {276} Plu., _Def. Or._ 51, p. 438 B. Lucan vi, 166\nff., clearly describes the phenomena supposed to attend their\nreligious _ekstasis_: artus Phoebados irrupit Paean, mentemque\npriorem expulit, atque hominem toto sibi cedere iussit pectore.\nbacchatur demens aliena, etc.)]\n\n[54\\8: ~ho Thr\u00ea|xi\\ ma/ntis Dio/nusos~, E., _Hec._ 1267. Rhesos\ndwelling in Mt. Pangaios is ~Ba/kchou proph\u00ea/t\u00eas~, _Rh._ 972.\n~aphike/sthai toi=s Leib\u00eathri/ois para\\ tou= Dionu/sou ma/nteuma ek\nThra/|k\u00eas~, Paus. 9, 30, 9. Aristoteles qui Theologumena scripsit,\napud Ligyreos (?) ait in Thracia esse adytum Libero consecratum, ex\nquo redduntur oracula. Macr. 1, 18, 1. The wife of Spartacus,\nherself a Thracian, was ~mantik\u00ea/ te kai\\ ka/tochos toi=s peri\\ t\u00f4=n\nDio/nuson orgiasmoi=s~, Plu., _Crass._ 8. Octavian in Thrace\nconsulted in Liberi patris luco barbara caerimonia, i.e. an oracle:\nSuet., _Oct._ 94. Even in 11 B.C. the Bessoi still had a ~hiereu\\s\ntou= Dionu/sou~, Vologeses, who by means of prophesyings (~polla\\\nthei/asas~) and ~t\u00ea=| para\\ tou= theou= do/x\u00ea|~ stirred up his\npeople to rebel against the Odrysai: D.C. 54, 34, 5. In 29 B.C. M.\nCrassus had handed over to the Odrysai the piece of land occupied by\nthe Bessoi ~en h\u00ea=| kai\\ to\\n theo\\n aga/llousi~, D.C. 51, 25,\n5.--The spirit of the old Thracian ecstatic cult reappeared in the\ncharacter of the Bacchic worship introduced from Greece into Italy\nwhose excesses (in 186 B.C.) are narrated by Livy: 39, 8 ff.: among\nthese being viros velut mente capta cum iactatione fanatica corporis\nvaticinari: 39, 13, 12.]\n\n[55\\8: Compare, for example, what we are told of the religious\ndances of the Ostiaks (Erman, _Travels in Siberia_, ii, 45 f., E.\nT., Cooley), the Haokah dance of the Dakota, the \"medicine-dance\" of\nthe Winnebago in North America (Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes_, iii,\n487 ff., 286 ff.), the dance of voodoo negroes in Haiti (_Nouv.\nannales des voyages_, 1858, iii, p. 90 ff.). For the violent\nreligious dances of the people in ancient Peru see M\u00fcller, _Amerik.\nUrrelig._ 385; in Australia, R. Brough-Smith, _Aborigines of\nVictoria_, i, 166 ff. (1878). Among the Veddas of Ceylon there was a\ndance of the \"devil's priests\" (called Kattadias) dressed up as\ndemons: see Tennent, _Ceylon_, i, 540 f.; ii, 442.--In antiquity the\nfollowing have the closest relationship to the ecstatic cult of the\nThracians: the dance festivals in honour of the \"Syrian Goddess\", of\nthe Kappadocian M\u00e2, of the Phrygian Mountain Mother, and of Attis\n(the last having much the same origin as the Thracian festival, but\nbeing more strongly affected by Semitic influences, and perhaps by\nthe religious practices of the prehistoric inhabitants of Asia\nMinor). Besides these we may remember the account given by\nPoseidonios ap. Strabo, 198, D.P. 570 ff., of the excited nocturnal\nfestival celebrated in honour of \"Dionysos\" in an island at the\nmouth of the Loire by the women of the Namnites (Samnites, Amnites)\n~Dionu/s\u00f4| katecho/menai~ in the wildest delirium (~lu/tta~).]\n\n[56\\8: This is regularly the meaning of such excesses practised by\n\"magicians\". The shaman (with his \"soul\") voyages out into the\nspirit-world; see the remarkably vivid account of Radloff,\n_Siberien_, ii, 1-67; and also Erman, _Zschr. f. Ethnologie_, ii,\n324 ff.; A. Krause, _Tlinkitindianer_, p. 294 ff., 1885. So does the\nLapp magician (Knud Leem, _Lappen in Finmarken_ [E.T. in Pinkerton's\n_Voyages_]). The Angekok enters into communion with his Torngak\n(Cranz, _Hist. of Greenland_, i, p. 194, E.T., 1820); the Butio with\nthe Zemen (M\u00fcller, _Amerik. Urrelig._, 191 f.); the Piajes with the\nspirits (M\u00fcller, 217). Thus, too, communication with the divine\n\"grandfather\" of the people is established by means of dances, etc.,\namong the Abipones (Dobrizhoffer, _Abipones_, ii, 64, E.T.). The\nexpulsion of the soul to visit the spirit-world is also practised\n(in their convulsions) by the {277} magicians of the North American\nIndians, the people of the Pacific Islands (Tylor, ii, 133), etc.\nSuch practices start out from a commonly held conception of the\nnature of body and soul and of their relations with the unseen. The\nmagicians believe \"that in their ecstatic condition they can break\nthrough the barrier between this world and the next\", M\u00fcller 397. To\nfacilitate this process they employ the various means alluded to of\nstimulating their senses.]\n\n[57\\8: The most remarkable case of this is provided by the history\nof a religious sect of our own day widely spread in Russia, who call\nthemselves \"the Christs\", i.e. sons of God. The sect was founded by\na holy man named Philippov in whose body God one day took up his\nabode; after which the man spoke as the living God himself and gave\ncommandments. The sect particularly stood for the idea that the\ndivine dwells in mankind, Christ in men and Mary in women, and that\nthe sense of their presence can be awakened in men by the action of\nthe Holy Ghost, through the force of strong belief, by saintliness\nand by religious ecstasy. To produce the ecstasy dances are held in\ncommon. About midnight, after long prayers, hymns, and religious\naddresses, the participators in the secret festival, both men and\nwomen, dressed in strange costumes begin to dance. Soon the ranks\nand circles of the dancers and singers break up; individuals begin\nto turn round and round, revolving on their own axis with incredible\nspeed, balancing meanwhile on their heels. The excitement of the\ndancing and leaping crowd grows continually greater. Finally one of\nthem calls out \"He comes; He is near--the Holy Ghost\". The wildest\necstasy takes hold of every one. Details may be found in N. Tsakni's\n_La Russie sectaire_, p. 63 ff. (cf. what is said in the same work,\np. 80 ff., of the religious dances of the Skopzes, and p. 119 f. of\nthe sect of the \"Leapers\").--All this is true _Bacchanalia\nchristiana_ and therefore mentioned here.]\n\n[58\\8: e.g. Mariner, _Tonga Islanders_, i, 108 (1817); Wrangel,\n_Reise in Siberien_, i, 286 (i, 267 f., French trans.); Radloff,\n_Siberien_, ii, 58. Even the respectable Cranz, whose own point of\nview made it impossible for him to appreciate properly the Angekok\npractices so clearly observed by him, admits that many of them\nreally saw visions that suggested \"something supernatural\" to them:\n_Hist. of Greenland_, p. 197 E.T. Something similar is said about\necstatically dancing dervishes by Lane, _Modern Egyptians_, ii,\n197.]\n\n[59\\8: Magicians called by the name of the god (_Keebet_) among the\nAbipones: Dobrizhoffer, ii, 248. Similar cases elsewhere: M\u00fcller,\n77. In Tahiti the person inspired by the god so long as the\n\"inspiration\" lasted (several days sometimes) was himself called\n\"god\" or given the name of some particular god: Waitz, _Anthropol._\nvi, 383. In the case of an African tribe dwelling on the banks of\nLake Nyanza the chief spirit sometimes takes temporary possession of\none of the magicians (man or woman) who then bears the name of the\nspirit: Schneider, _Relig. d. Afrik. Naturv._ 151. Sometimes the\nidentity of the magician with the god is expressed by the wearing of\nthe god's distinguishing dress and imitation of his outward\nappearance (in the manner of the Thracian ~Ba/kchoi~); cf. the\ndevil-dancers in Ceylon, etc.]\n\n[60\\8: When it acquires a more philosophical temper mysticism seeks\nits unification with the highest (the ~e/llampsis t\u00ea=s phu/se\u00f4s t\u00ea=s\npr\u00f4/t\u00eas~) more by means of the completest passivity of mind and\nbody. It employs the ~eis haut\u00ea\\n xulle/gesthai kai\\ athroi/zesthai~\nof the soul (Plato), or its withdrawal from all that is finite and\nparticular (the _recojimiento_ of the Spanish mystics). The\nprofoundest quietude of spirit brings {278} about the unification\nwith the One behind all multiplicity; cf. the Neoplatonic mystics,\nthe Buddhists, etc. Sometimes both are found together; absorption\nand passivity of the spirit side by side with wild excitement. Both\nmethods were practised by the Persian Sufis. Chardin, _Voyage en\nPerse_, iv, 458 (cd. Langl\u00e9s) says of them, cependant ils se servent\nplus commun\u00e9ment du chant de la danse et de la musique, disant\nqu'ils produisent plus s\u00fbrement leur extase. It may be that the cult\nof religious exaltation is always the real origin of these ecstatic\nstates. Though the cult sometimes falls into decay itself, its\noffspring the ~e/kstasis~ survives.]\n\n[61\\8: In the language of these mystics the words mean: he knows\nthat the passionate longing for reunion with God, the Soul of the\nuniverse, breaks down the individual personality and its\nlimitations--\"for where Love awakes to life the Self dies, that\ngloomy tyrant.\"]\n\n[62\\8: ~Ge/tai hoi athanati/zontes~, Hdt. Iv, 93-4\n(~apathanati/zontes~, Plato and others, see Wesseling on D.S. i, p.\n105, 32).]\n\n[63\\8: . . . ~oude/na a/llon theo\\n nomi/zontes ei m\u00ea\\ to\\n\nsphe/teron~ (the Zalmoxis just mentioned) Hdt. iv, 94 fin. There we\nare told that the Getai ~pro\\s bront\u00ea/n te kai\\ astrap\u00ea\\n\ntoxeu/ontes a/n\u00f4 apeileu=si t\u00f4=| the\u00f4=|, oude/na ktl.~ If it were\ntrue (as most people seem to think) that the god (~ho theo/s~)\nthreatened by the Getai during thunder was their own god Zalmoxis,\nthen it certainly is difficult, or, indeed, impossible, to\nunderstand the point of explaining the threatening of this god by\nthe statement that they hold him for the only true god. The truth is\nthat the ~t\u00f4=| the\u00f4=|~ refers simply to the \"sky\" during a\nthunderstorm. The usage is common in Greek and is only transferred\nto the Getai by a rather awkward extension. This thundering ~theo/s~\nis not Zalmoxis at all (hence Z. is not as some have thought a\n\"sky-god\"). The Getai regarded Zalmoxis as the only god: the\nThunderer is no real god to them (at the most a bad demon or a\nmagician or something of the kind). To show that they are not afraid\nof him they shoot arrows against him, probably in the hope of\nbreaking the thundercloud. (Parallels in other countries: Grimm, p.\n1088; Dobrizhoffer, ii, 78. In India, Oldenberg, 491-4. Excitement\nduring an eclipse of the moon: Weissenborn on Livy, 26, 5, 9.\nReminiscence of such customs in the myth of Herakles: [Apollod.] 2,\n5, 10, 5. From Hdt. by indirect channels comes Isig., _Mir._ 42 [p.\n162 West.]; cf. also the account of D.C. 59, 28, 6 about\nCaligula.--Pallad., _RR._ i, 35 [_contra grandinem_].)]\n\n[64\\8: ~athanati/zousi de\\ to/nde to\\n tro/pon . . . ou/te\napothn\u00ea/skein he\u00f4utou\\s nomi/zousi, ie/nai te to\\n apollu/menon\npara\\ Za/lmoxin dai/mona (hoi de\\ aut\u00f4=n to\\n auto\\n tou=ton\nounoma/zousi Gebele/\u00efzin)~, Hdt. iv, 94. Here, as regularly in Greek\nuse of the words, we must not understand by ~atha/naton ei=nai~ a\nmere shadowy (if timeless) survival of the soul after death as in\nthe Homeric Hades. Such a belief if it had been held by the Getai\nwould not have struck Hdt. or his readers as remarkable in the\nslightest degree. It must therefore imply an unending and fully\nconscious existence, in this last respect resembling the life on\nearth.]\n\n[65\\8: ~athanati/zousi de\\ kai\\ Te/rizoi (teretizoi~ Phot.) ~kai\\\nKro/buzoi kai\\ tou\\s apothano/ntas h\u00f4s Za/lmoxi/n phasin\noi/chesthai~, Phot. Suid., _EM._ ~Za/molxis~. The Krobyzoi are a\nwell-known Thracian stock. The Terizoi are not elsewhere mentioned;\nperhaps they may be placed in the neighbourhood of ~Ti/ristis,\nTi/rixis a/kra~ = C. Kaliakra (cf. C. M\u00fcller on Arrian, _P. Eux._\n35); there we also hear of a ~Ti/ristis po/lis~, Ptolem. With this\nTomaschek also agrees (_D. alten Thraker_, _Ber. Wien. Ak._ 128, iv,\np. 97). In this case they would be neighbours of the Krobyzoi.]\n{279}\n\n[66\\8: ~ouk apothn\u00ea/|skein alla\\ metoiki/zesthai nomi/zontes~ is\nwhat we hear of the Getai in Julian, _Caes._ 327 D. animas (putant)\nnon extingui sed ad beatiora transire, Mela, ii, 18.]\n\n[67\\8: ~. . . tou\\s apothano/ntas h\u00f4s Za/lmoxi/n phasin oi/chesthai,\nh\u00ea/xein de\\ au=this. kai\\ tau=ta aei\\ nomi/zousin al\u00eatheu/ein.\nthu/ousi de\\ kai\\ eu\u00f4chou=ntai h\u00f4s au/this h\u00ea/xontos tou=\napothano/ntos~, Phot. Suid., _EM._ ~Za/molxis~. Mela, ii, 18: alii\n(among the Thracians) redituras putant animas obeuntium.]\n\n[68\\8: Hdt. iv, 95, Zalmoxis, a slave of Pythagoras in Samos, is set\nfree and comes back a rich man to his **poverty-stricken country. He\ncollects together the leading men of the race in a room, where he\nentertains them and seeks to persuade them of the belief that\nneither he nor they nor their descendants will die but that they\nwill all come after death to a place where they will enjoy all good\nthings in abundance. Thereupon he withdraws into a secret\nunderground chamber and lives there for three years. In the fourth\nyear he comes to light again and \"the Thracians are persuaded of the\ntruth of what Zalmoxis had told them.\" This implies--though Hdt.\nomits to say so, and so does [Hellan.] ~p. nom. barb.~ (following\nHdt.) ap. Phot., etc., s. ~Za/molxis~--that he had also promised\nthat he and his adherents should _return_ to earth alive after the\nexpiry of a definite period (three years). That such a belief in the\n\"return\" of the dead was actually held by the Thracians is clear\nenough from the quotations given in the last note. The story of\nZalmoxis' trick (which was perhaps intended humorously by its\ninventors) seemed suspicious even to Hdt., but it is not pure\ninvention (any more than the analogous stories about Pythagoras,\nTrophonios, and later Empedotimos): it is rather a euhemerist\nversion of a miraculous legend. The disappearance of Zalmoxis into a\nsubterranean chamber is a distortion of the belief in his permanent\nabode in a hollow mountain-side, an ~antr\u00f4=de/s ti ch\u00f4/rion~ in Mt.\nKogaionon of which Str. 298 speaks plainly enough. In that mountain\nthe god dwells; just as Rhesos ~krupto\\s en a/ntrois t\u00ea=s\nhupargu/rou chthono/s~ of Mt. Pangaios, dwells there as an\n~anthr\u00f4podai/m\u00f4n~ [E.], _Rh._ 970; cf. chap. iv, n. 36. He lives\nthere undying like the ~Ba/kchou proph\u00ea/t\u00eas~, who has become a god,\nto whom the tragedy obscurely alludes in ll. 972 f. as living on Mt.\nPangaios (this may perhaps refer to Lykourgos--see G. Hermann, _Op._\nv, 23 f.--surely not to Orpheus as Maass, _Orpheus_, p. 68 [1895],\nsuggests). The obvious parallel is Amphiaraos and Trophonios in\ntheir caves, and Orig., _Cels._ iii, 34 (see above, chap. iii, n.\n13), puts them and Zalmoxis together. We may safely complete Hdt.'s\naccount of how the ~apollu/menoi~ of the Getai go away and have\neverlasting life ~para\\ Za/lmoxin dai/mona~ (iv, 94), by saying that\nthey reach this same hollow mountain, a subterranean place of\ndelight where they dwell with the god. Mnaseas compares Zalmoxis\nwith Kronos (_FHG._; Phot. Suid. _EM._, as before) and the similarity\ndoubtless resides in the fact that both rule over the spirits of the\nblest in another world. But besides this the Thracian belief must\nalso have included the idea of a periodical appearance of the god in\nthe upper world. Hdt.'s story of the trick practised by Zalmoxis\nshows this (the return of the souls to which the story also points,\nis a sort of counterpart of this). Are we to suppose that the\n~epipha/neia~ of the god was expected after the expiry of three\nyears (just as it was after two years in the Dionysos festival; see\nabove, n. 27)? We do not know whether these Thracian tribes\ncelebrated the ~epipha/neia~ of the god with \"enthusiastic\" worship.\nSuch an element in the cult of Zalmoxis seems to be suggested by the\nfact that we hear of \"physicians of Zalmoxis\" (Pl., _Charm._ 156 D)\nand of _mantik\u00ea_--which is generally closely bound up with\n~iatrik\u00ea/~--{280} in the cult of this god. This must be the meaning\nof calling Zalm. himself ~ma/ntis~: Str. 762, 297; cf. also the\notherwise valueless account of Ant. Diog. ap. Porph. _VP._ 14-15.\nFinally, the enthusiastic character of the cult seems to be implied\nin the identifying of the priest with the god by the Getai (as in\nthe similar cases mentioned above, notes 32 and 59). Thus, the high\npriest is himself called \"god\": Str. 298 (he has authority over both\nking and state: cf. the ~hiereu\\s tou= Dionu/sou~ among the Bessoi,\nabove, n. 53; cf. Jordanes, _Get._ 71). This made it easy for the\n\"god\" Zalmoxis, whom even Hdt. quite rightly regarded as ~dai/m\u00f4n\ntis Ge/t\u00ea|si epich\u00f4/rios~ (iv, 96) to be metamorphosed into a man of\nthe historical past (he is this in D.S. 1, 94, 2; Str. vii, 297; cf.\nJordanes, _Get._ 39). If the contemporary priest was called \"god\" it\nmight naturally be concluded that the \"god\" Zalmoxis was once only a\npriest too.]\n\n[69\\8: Hermip. ap. Jos., _Ap._ i, 22.]\n\n[70\\8: In E., _Hec._ (1265 ff.) the Thracian Polymestor prophecies\nto Hekabe that she shall become a dog after her death, ~pu/rs'\ne/chousa de/rgmata~. Hekabe asks ~p\u00f4=s d' oi=stha _morph\u00ea=s_ t\u00ea=s\nem\u00ea=s _meta/stasin_;~ Pol.: ~ho Thr\u00ea|xi\\ ma/ntis ei=pe Dio/nusos\n**ta/de~. It looks as if Eur. in this allusion to a belief in\nmetempsychosis was intending to give a realistic touch of Thracian\nnational character. He was well informed in such matters.]\n\n[71\\8: The connexion between Thracian Dionysos-worship and the\nbelief in immortality and cult of the dead is vouched for, acc. to\nRapp, _Dionysosc._ 15 ff., by the insc. found by Heuzey in Thracian\ndistricts. An epitaph found at Doxato (near Philippi) says of one who\nhas died young (ll. 12 ff.): reparatus vivis in Elysiis. Sic\nplacitum est divis aeterna vivere forma qui bene de supero lumine\nsit meritus.--nunc seu te Bromio signatae (see Anrich, _Antike\nMysterienwesen_, 123 f.) mystides ad se florigero in prato congregem\nuti Satyrum, sive canistriferae poscunt sibi Na\u00efdes aeque, qui\nducibus taedis agmina festa trahas . . . (_CIL._ iii, 686). It is\ntrue that this remarkable fantasy contains nothing directly alluding\nto specifically Thracian worship. On the other hand this is\ncertainly suggested and both the Thracian god and his connexion with\na cult of the dead is implied in the use of the local cult-title of\nDionysos in an offering made by Bythos and Rufus to the thiasi\nLiberi patris Tasibasteni of 300 denarii ex quorum reditu annuo\nrosalibus (and so at the yearly festival of the dead) ad monimentum\neorum vescentur. _CIL._ iii, 703; cf. 704. Even the conjunction by\nE., _Hec._ 1265 ff., of the belief in palingenesia with the oracle\nof the Thracian Dionysos seems to imply a connexion between that\nbelief and the cult of Dionysos.]\n\n[72\\8: ~polloi\\ me\\n narth\u00eakopho/roi, pau=roi de/ te Ba/kchoi~ ap.\nPl., _Phd._ 69 C. The strict meaning of this Orphic verse (Lob.,\n_Agl._ 813 ff.) is that out of the multitudes who take part in the\nBacchic festival only a few have any real right to call themselves\nby the name of the god--as having become one with him through their\necstasy and exaltation. A special morbid state was necessary for\nthat: the same state which in other circumstances made the real\nshamans, Piajes, etc.]\n\n[73\\8: Even when their ~e/kstasis~ had ceased the ecstatic\nworshippers still regarded as real the visions which they had\nenjoyed in that condition: ~hoi=on sune/b\u00ea Antiphe/ronti t\u00f4=|\n\u00d4rei/t\u00ea| kai\\ a/llois existame/nois. ta\\ ga\\r phanta/smata e/legon\nh\u00f4s geno/mena kai\\ h\u00f4s mn\u00eamoneu/ontes~, Arist. ~p. mn\u00ea/m\u00eas~, 1, p.\n451a, 8. \"Magicians who had subsequently been converted to\nChristianity were still convinced of the reality of their earlier\nvisions: they thought they had seen something perfectly real.\" {281}\nM\u00fcller, _Amerik. Urrelig._ 80. Add: Tylor, ii, 131; Cranz,\n_Greenland_, p. 197.]\n\n[74\\8: See above, chap. i, p. 7 ff.]\n\n[75\\8: Hdt. v, 4 (speaking of the ~Trausoi/~. Hsch. has the same,\ns.v. ~Trauso/s~). The story was then added to the regular list of\n~no/mima barbarika/~ used for illustrating the variability of\n~no/mos~. It was soon after told of the _~Kro/buzoi~_: Isig., _Mir._\n27 (they were also regarded as strong adherents of a belief in\nimmortality; see above, n. 65); then of the ~Kausianoi/~: Nic. Dam.,\n_Mir._ 18 West. Zenob., _Prov._ v, 25, p. 128, 5 L.-Schn.\n(~Kau/sioi, Kausianoi/~). It occurs again in a fragment of some\ncollection of ~no/mima barbarika/~ written before the third century\n(there is no reason to ascribe it to Aristotle) given by Mahaffy, _On\nthe Flinders Petrie Papyri, Transcript._, p. 29: ~Kausianoi=s de\\\nno/mimon tou\\s me\\n gignome/nous thr\u00eanei=n tou\\s de\\ teleut\u00f4=ntas\neudaimoni/zein h\u00f4s poll\u00f4=n kak\u00f4=n anapepaume/nous (kak\u00f4=n~ as above\nor ~po/n\u00f4=n~ must be supplied to fill the gap; cf. the well-known\nfragment of Eur. _Cresph._: ~echr\u00ea=n ga\\r h\u00eama=s . . .~ _fr._ 449,\nwhich perhaps alludes to Hdt.'s account). It is told of Thracians in\ngeneral, or of some tribe not particularly named, by S. E., P. iii,\n232; Val. Max. 2, 6, 12 (both clearly drawing on collections of\n~no/mima barbarika/~); Mela, ii, 18; _AP._ ix, 111 (Archias). There\nwere thus three sources of the story: Besides Hdt.'s, two in which\neither the Krobyzoi or the Kausianoi were named as the Thracian\ntribe instead of Hdt.'s Trausoi.]\n\n[76\\8: ~ho/s\u00f4n kak\u00f4=n exapallachthei\\s e/sti en pa/s\u00ea|\n**eudaimoni/\u00ea|~, Hdt. v, 4.]\n\n[77\\8: See Jul., _Caes._ 327 D, Mela, ii, 18. Likewise of the\n~Kausianoi/~ in Anon. ap. Mahaffy (see n. 75), p. 29, 10-12. Iamb.,\n_VP._ 173: as a result of the (Pythagorean) doctrine of immortality\ntaught by Zalmoxis ~e/ti kai\\ nu=n hoi Gala/tai~ (because they had\nbeen instructed by Zalm.; from a similar fabulous source comes\nHippol., _RH._ i, 2, p. 14, 93 D.-S.) ~kai\\ hoi Tra/leis kai\\\npolloi\\ t\u00f4=n barba/r\u00f4n tou\\s haut\u00f4=n huiou\\s pei/thousin h\u00f4s ouk\ne/sti phthar\u00ea=nai **t\u00ea\\n psuch\u00ea/n . . . kai\\ ho/ti to\\n tha/naton ou\nphob\u00eate/on, alla\\ pro\\s tou\\s kindu/nous eur\u00f4/st\u00f4s\nhekte/on~.--~Tra/lleis~ Scaliger for the MS. ~tralis~, rightly as\nfar as sense goes. But we find the name ~TRALEIS~ given to the\nPergamene mercenaries called after the Thracian tribes: _Ins. Perg._\ni, n. 13, 23, 59. These had already served as infantry in 331 in the\narmy of Alexander the Great: D.S. 17, 65, 1; cf. Hsch. ~Trallei=s~.\nThey were a south Thracian tribe: Plu., _Ages._ 16; _Ap. Lac._ 42;\nStr. 649 (where read ~Tralle/\u00f4n~); Tralli Thraeces, Liv. 38, 21, 2,\nwho elsewhere calls them Illyriorum genus, 27, 32, 4; 31, 35, 1. It\nappears that a branch of the Thracian tribe of the Tralles reached\nIllyria in their wanderings; there Theopompos, too, knew them:\nSteph. Byz. ~Tralli/a~; cf. also s. vv. ~B\u00ea=gis, Bo/louros~ (cf.\nTomaschek, _Sitzb. Wien. Ak._, 128, iv, p. 56 f.).]\n\n[78\\8: Appetitus maximus mortis, Mart. Cap. 6, 656. The Thracians\nesp. are meant by Galen when he speaks of ~barba/r\u00f4n eni/ois~ who\nentertained the belief ~ho/ti to\\ apothn\u00ea/skein esti\\ kalo/n~ (xix,\np. 704 K).]\n\n\n{{282}}\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nDIONYSIAC RELIGION IN GREECE\n\nITS AMALGAMATION WITH APOLLINE RELIGION. ECSTATIC PROPHECY. RITUAL\nPURIFICATION AND EXORCISM. ASCETICISM\n\n\nThe Greeks received from the Thracians and assimilated to their own\npurposes the worship of Dionysos, just as, in all probability, they\nreceived the personality and worship of Ares and the Muses. Of this\nassimilation we cannot give any further particulars; it took place\nin a period lying before the beginnings of historical tradition. In\nthis period a multiplicity of separate tendencies and conceptions,\nfreely mingled with features borrowed from foreign creeds, were\nwelded together to form the religion of Greece.\n\nHomer is already acquainted with the fanatical worship of Dionysos;\nthe god is called by the name under which Greek worshippers made\nthemselves familiar with the stranger.[1\\9] But in Homer, Dionysos\nappears only once or twice for a moment in the background. He is not\nthe bountiful giver of wine; he does not belong to the Round Table\nof the great gods assembled on Olympos. Nowhere in the story told in\neither of the Homeric poems does he influence the life and destiny\nof human beings. There is no need to seek far for the reason of\nDionysos' subordinate position in the Iliad and the Odyssey. Homer's\nsilence makes it quite plain that at that time the Thracian god had\nnot yet emerged from a position of insignificance or merely local\nimportance in the life and faith of Greece. Nor is this hard to\nunderstand; the cult of Dionysos only gradually won recognition in\nGreece. Many legends tell of the battles that had to be fought by\nthe new worship and of the opposition that met the invader. We hear\nhow the Dionysiac frenzy and the _ekstasis_ of the Dionysiac\ndance-festival took possession of the whole female population of\nmany districts of Central Greece and the Peloponnese.[2\\9] Sometimes\na few women would venture to join the wandering choruses of wild\nBacchants who danced upon the mountain tops; here and there the king\nof the land would oppose the progress of this tumultuous worship.\nSuch stories are told of the daughters of Minyas in Orchomenos, of\nProitos in Tiryns, of King Pentheus at Thebes, and Perseus at\nArgos;[3\\9] their opposition to the Dionysiac form of worship,\noccurring in {283} reality at no precise date, assumed a deceptive\ndistinctness in the artificial systems of the mythologists and\ndeveloped the character of historical events. In reality what we are\ntold of these individuals--how the opponents of Dionysos themselves\nfell into even wilder frenzy and in Bacchic delirium slew and tore\nin pieces their own children instead of the victim-animal, or (as in\nthe case of Pentheus) became themselves the victim slain and torn in\npieces by the raging women--all this belongs to the class of\n_\u00e6tiological_ myth. They are legends in which special features of\nworship (for example, the existing or dimly remembered sacrifice of\nhuman beings at the feasts of Dionysos) are provided with a mythical\nprototype in the supposed historical past of mythology, and thus\nreceive their justification.[4\\9] Still, there remains a substratum\nof historical fact underlying such stories. They all presuppose that\nthe cult of Dionysos arrived from abroad and entered into Greece as\nsomething foreign. This presupposition notoriously corresponds to\nthe actual facts of the case, and we are bound to assume that the\naccount which they immediately proceed to give of the violent\nopposition which this cult, and only this cult, met with in many\nparts of Greece, is not pure fiction.[5\\9] We are obliged to\nrecognize that such stories preserved a trace of real historical\nmemory expressed in the one form which was invariably assumed by the\nearliest Greek tradition, namely mythology, in which all the\naccidents and varieties of earthly experience were condensed into\ntypes of universal applicability.\n\nIt was then not without opposition, it appears, that the worship of\nDionysos, descending from the north into Boeotia, spread from thence\nto the Peloponnese and at an early period invaded even some of the\nislands as well. In truth, even if we had no evidence at all on the\npoint, we should have expected the Greeks to feel a profound\nrepugnance to this disorderly and tumultuous Thracian worship; a\ndeep-seated instinct must in their case have resisted such\nextravagance of emotional excitement and refused to lose itself in\nthe limitless abyss of mere feeling. This unchecked roaming over the\nmountain sides in nocturnal revelry might be suitable enough for\nThracian women-folk, but respectable Greek citizens could not give\nthemselves up to such things without a struggle--without, indeed, a\nbreak with all inherited propriety and decorum.[6\\9] It seems to\nhave been the women who were the first to give in to the invading\nworship,[7\\9] carried away in a real frenzy of inspired enthusiasm,\nand the new cult may really have owed its first success chiefly to\nthem. What we are told of the irresistible progress and widespread\nsuccess[8\\9] of the {284} Bacchic dance-worship and its exaltation\nreminds us of the phenomena which have attended similar religious\nepidemics such as have in more recent times occasionally burst out\nand overflowed whole countries. We may in particular recall to mind\nthe accounts which we have of the violent and widespread\ndance-madness which, soon after the severe mental and physical shock\nsuffered by Europe in the Black Death of the fourteenth century,\nbroke out on the Rhine and for centuries could not be entirely\nstamped out. Those who were attacked by the fever were driven by an\nirresistible impulse to dance. The bystanders, in convulsions of\nsympathetic and imitative fury joined in the whirling dance\nthemselves. Thus the malady was spread by contagion, and soon whole\ncompanies of men, women, and girls, wandered dancing through the\ncountry. In spite of the insufficiency of the surviving records, the\nreligious character of this dance-enthusiasm is unmistakably\napparent. The Church regarded it as a \"heresy\". The dancers called\nupon the name of St. John or of \"certain demons\"; hallucinations and\nvisions of a religious nature accompanied their ecstasies.[9\\9] Can\nit have been another such popular religious malady which attacked\nGreece--perhaps in the train of the disturbance of spiritual\nequilibrium caused by the destructive migrations which take their\nname from the Dorians? The circumstances of the time must have\npredisposed men's minds in that direction and made them ready to\naccept the Thracian Dionysos and his enthusiastic dance-worship. In\nany case this invasion did not, like its medi\u00e6val counterpart, break\ndown by coming into conflict with a well-established religion and an\nexclusive ecclesiastical organization of a very different temper\nfrom its own. In the deceptive twilight of myth we can only dimly\ndiscern the arrival and progress of the Dionysiac religion in\nGreece. But so much at least is evident: the Bacchic cult, though it\nhad to overcome many obstacles, at last established itself in Greece\nand triumphantly overran both mainland and islands, until in the\ncourse of time it obtained a profound and far-reaching importance in\nGreek life of which Homer could scarcely give a hint.\n\n\u00a7 2\n\nIt was no longer simply the old Thracian Dionysos who now took his\nplace beside the other great gods of the Greek Olympos as one of\nthemselves. He had become Hellenized and humanized in the meantime.\nCities and states celebrated him in yearly festivals as the giver of\nthe vine's inspiring fruit, as {285} the daimonic patron of\nvegetation, and the whole of Nature's rich and flourishing growth.\nHe was worshipped as the incarnation of all natural life and vigour\nin the fullest and widest sense: as the typical exponent of the most\neager enjoyment of life. Even Art, the highest expression of the\ncourage and pride of life, drew much of its inspiration and its\naspiration towards the infinite from the worship of Dionysos; and\nthe drama, that supreme achievement of Greek poetry, arose out of\nthe choruses of the Dionysiac festival.\n\nNow the art of the actor consists in entering into a strange\npersonality, and in speaking and acting out of a character not his\nown. At bottom it retains a profound and ultimate connexion with its\nmost primitive source--that strange power of transfusing the self\ninto another being which the really inspired participator in the\nDionysiac revels achieved in his _ekstasis_. The essential features\nof the god as he first arrived in Greece from foreign lands, in\nspite of much alteration and transformation of the primitive type,\nwere thus not entirely lost. There remained also, in addition to the\ncheerful festivity of the daylight worship of Dionysos, as it was\ncelebrated more particularly in Athens, certain vestiges of the old\necstatic worship which drove men and women over the mountains in\nnocturnal revelry. In many places there were still celebrated the\n_trieteric_ festivals[10\\9] in which at recurrent intervals the\n\"Epiphany\" of Dionysos, his appearance in the world of men and\nascent from the underworld, was **solemnized by night. The primitive\ncharacter of Dionysos the Lord of Spirits and of the Souls of the\ndead--a very different figure indeed from the tender and delicate\nWine-God of later times--was still obscurely present in many\nfeatures of the Dionysiac festivals, in those of Delphi especially,\nbut even to some extent at Athens too.[11\\9] The ecstasy and the\nviolence, even the dark savagery of the ancient cult did not quite\ndie out in the midst of all the refinements of Greek civilization;\nrecognizable traces of such things were preserved in the _Nuktelia_\nand _Agrionia_ and in the various trieteric festivals that were\noffered to the god in many different localities.[12\\9] In Greece the\nawful god received the blood of human victims.[13\\9] Nor did the\noutward signs of delirious frenzy, such as the eating of raw flesh,\nthe killing and tearing in pieces of snakes, entirely\ndisappear.[14\\9] So little indeed, did the Bacchic frenzy that could\nexalt and lift the worshipper to communion with the god and his\ntrain, disappear before the gentler attractions of the gracious\nwine-god and his festival, that the raving and \"possession\" which\ncharacterized the cult of Dionysos were {286} now actually regarded\nby foreign peoples as the essentially _Hellenic_ form of the worship\nof the god.[15\\9]\n\nThus, a sympathetic understanding of the orgiastic cult and its\ntremendous capabilities lived on. The \"Bacchants\" of Euripides still\npreserves for us a breath of its magic, a trace of the enthusiasm\nand exaltation that overwhelmed the senses and enthralled the will\nand consciousness of those who gave themselves up to the powerful\nDionysiac influence. Like an irresistible current that overwhelms a\nswimmer or like the mysterious helplessness that frustrates the\ndreamer, the magic power emanating from the neighbourhood of the god\ntook complete possession of the worshipper and drove him whither it\nwilled. Everything in the world was transformed for him; he himself\nwas altered. Every character in the play falls under the spell as\nsoon as he enters into the magic circle. Even the modern reader who\nturns over the pages of Euripides' poem feels something of that\nstrange power to subdue the soul wielded by the Dionysiac mysteries\nand experiences in his own person a faint reflexion of these\nextraordinary states of mind.\n\nProbably as a result of this profound Dionysiac fever which had once\nraged through Greece like an epidemic and was liable to periodic\nreturns in the nocturnal festivals of the god, there remained in the\nconstitution of the Greek people a certain morbid weakness, a\nsusceptibility to suddenly appearing and as suddenly disappearing\ncrises in which the normal powers of perceiving and feeling were\ntemporarily overthrown. A few stray accounts have come down to us in\nwhich we read how such brief attacks of passing insanity ran through\nwhole cities like an infectious disease.[16\\9] The Korybantic form\nof the malady, which was religious in character[17\\9] and took its\nname from the daimonic companions of the Phrygian Mountain Mother,\nwas a phenomenon quite well-known to doctors and psychologists.\nThose affected by such fevers saw strange figures that corresponded\nto no objective reality, and heard the sound of invisible flutes,\nuntil at last they were excited to the highest pitch of frenzy and\nwere seized with a violent desire to dance.[18\\9] The initiation\nfestivals of the Phrygian deities were specially directed to the\ndischarge and so eventually to the cure and \"purgation\" of such\nemotional states; the means employed being principally dance and\nmusic--more especially the music composed for the flute by the old\nPhrygian masters; music that could fill the soul with inspiration in\nsuitably disposed natures.[19\\9] By such methods the ecstatic\nelement was not simply suppressed or expelled, it was taken {287} up\nas a special disciplinary process by the physician-priesthood who\nrecognized in it a vital movement and added it to the regular\nworship of the god.\n\nIn a similar fashion Greece in its most enlightened period accepted\nand practised the \"enthusiastic\" cult of Dionysos. Even the\ntumultuous night-festivals of the Thracian god--festivals closely\nrelated to those of Phrygia from which they had borrowed and to\nwhich they had given so many features--were made to serve the\n\"purgation\" of the ecstatically exalted soul. The worshipper in such\nfestivals \"initiated his soul into the company of the god in holy\npurifications, while he raged over the mountains in Bacchic\nfrenzy\".[20\\9] The purification consisted in this case, too, of\nviolent excitement in which the soul was stimulated to the highest\npitch of religious ecstasy. Dionysos as \"Bakcheus\" awoke the holy\nmadness which he himself again, after it had reached its highest\npoint of intensity, stilled and tranquillized as Lysios and\nMeilichios.[21\\9] The old Thracian cult of ecstasy has here been\nmodified in a fashion that belonged only to Greek soil and to Greek\nmodes of thought. Legend, allegorizing the facts, threw back this\nfinal development of the Dionysiac worship into the remotest\nantiquity. Even Hesiodic poems[22\\9] related how the daughters of\nKing Proitos of Tiryns wandered in the holy frenzy of Dionysos[23\\9]\nover the mountain of Peloponnesus, until at last they and all the\n**multitude of women who had joined them were healed and \"purified\"\nby Melampous the Seer of Pylos famed in legend.[24\\9] The cure was\neffected through the intensification of the Dionysiac frenzy \"with\nloud crying and inspired dancing,\"[25\\9] and, further, by the use of\ncertain special purificatory devices.[26\\9] Melampous did not put an\nend to the Dionysiac cult and its \"enthusiasm\"; he rather regulated\nand developed it. For this reason Herodotus can even call him the\n\"Founder\" of the Dionysiac cult in Greece.[27\\9] Legend, however,\nalways recognized in this \"founder\" of the Dionysiac festival an\nadherent of the specifically _Apolline_ form of religion. \"Apollo\nhad favoured him especially,\" and bestowed upon him the Seership\nwhich became ancestral in his family.[28\\9] Legend used him as a\ntype in which the reconciliation between the Apolline and the\nDionysiac was figuratively expressed. The reconciliation is an\nhistorical fact, but it did not happen in the primitive past of\nlegend.\n\nIt is a fact, however, that Apollo did at last, doubtless after\nprolonged resistance, enter into the closest alliance with this\nremarkable divine brother of his, the Hellenized Dionysos. {288} The\ncovenant must have been made at Delphi. There at least on the\nheights of Parnasos, in the Korykian Cave, the trieteric festival of\nDionysos was held every second year in the close neighbourhood of\nApollo the Lord of Delphi. Nay, more, in Apollo's own temple the\n\"grave\" of Dionysos was shown,[29\\9] and at this grave, while the\nThyiades of the god rushed over the mountain heights, the priests of\nApollo celebrated a secret festival of their own.[30\\9] The festal\nyear of Delphi was divided, though unequally it is true, between\nApollo and Dionysos.[31\\9] To such an extent had Dionysos taken root\nat Delphi,[32\\9] so closely were the two gods related, that while\nthe front pediment of the temple showed the form of Apollo, the back\npediment represented Dionysos--and the Dionysos of the nocturnal\necstatic revels. Apollo, too, shared in the trieteric festival of\nDionysos,[33\\9] while Dionysos in later times at the penteteric\nfestival of the Pythia, received, as well as Apollo, his share of\nsacrifice and the contests of cyclic choruses.[34\\9] The two\ndivinities have many of their titles and attributes in common; in\nthe end the distinction between them seems to disappear\nentirely.[35\\9]\n\nAntiquity never forgot that at Delphi, the radiating centre of his\ncult, Apollo was an intruder. Among the older deities whom he\nsupplanted there, the name of Dionysos also occurred;[36\\9] but the\nDelphic priesthood thought it wise to tolerate the Thracian god and\nhis ecstatic cult that at first seemed so opposed to that of their\nown deity. Dionysos may have been too vigorous a spirit to allow his\nworship to be suppressed like that of the Earth divinity who sent\nthe prophetic dreams. Apollo is the \"Lord of Delphi\"; but the\npriesthood of the Delphic Apollo, following in this the tendency to\nreligious syncretism which is so recognizable in them, took the\nworship of Dionysos under their protection. The Delphic Oracle in\nfact introduced Dionysos into localities where he had hitherto been\na stranger, and nowhere so successfully or with such momentous\nconsequences as at Athens.[37\\9] It was this promoting of the\nDionysiac form of religion by the great corporation which had the\nleadership in Greece in all matters of religion, that did more than\nanything else to secure for the god and his worship that profound,\nwide-reaching influence on Greek religion that Homer, who knows\nlittle even of the Delphic Oracle, completely ignores.\n\nBut it was a gentler and more civilized Dionysos whom Delphi\npopularized and even helped to re-shape; the extravagance of his\necstatic abandonment was pruned and moderated {289} to suit the more\nsober temper of ordinary city-life, and the brighter, daylight\nfestivals of urban and countryside worship. Hardly a trace of the\nold Thracian worship of ecstasy and exaltation is discoverable in\nthe Dionysiac worship of Athens. In other places, and especially in\nthe districts ruled over by the Delphic Apollo himself, Dionysiac\nworship preserved more of its primitive nocturnal wildness. Even\nAthens, in obedience to an oracular command, sent a religious\nembassy of elected women to the Delphic Trieteria. It is plain\nenough however, that in all this there was nothing but a dim\ncounterpart of the former tumultuous mountain-worship of the god,\nand its profound soul-stirring ceremonies; the worship of Athens and\nDelphi had reduced all that to a vague ritual traditionalism.[38\\9]\n\n\u00a7 3\n\nBut in spite of all attempts to moderate and civilize it outwardly,\nthe cult of Dionysos retained as its most enduring feature a\ntendency to the ecstatic and the extravagant that was continually\nbreaking out in threatening or alluring guise. So strong indeed was\nthe ecstatic element in Dionysiac worship, that when the Apolline\nand Dionysiac forms of religion became united, as at Delphi, it was\nthe Apolline worship--once so hostile to anything in the nature of\necstasy--that had to accept this entirely novel feature.\n\nThe \"prophecy of inspiration\", deriving its knowledge of the unseen\nfrom an elevation of the human soul to the divine, was not always a\npart of Greek religion. Homer, of course, knows of the prophetic\n_art_ in which specially instructed seers explained such signs of\nthe gods' will as occurred accidentally or were purposely sought out\nby men, and by this means claimed to discover the will of heaven\nboth at the moment and for the future. This is, in fact, the sort of\nprophecy that Apollo bestowed upon his seers.[39\\9] But the prophecy\nof which there was no \"art\" and which \"no man could be taught\"[40\\9]\n(for it came in a moment by \"inspiration\")--of this Homer shows no\ntrace.[41\\9] In addition to professional and independently working\nprophets the Odyssey, and even the Iliad, too, are aware of the\nenclosed oracular institutions belonging to the temple of Zeus at\nDodona and that of Apollo at Pytho.[42\\9] Both these used the names\nof the gods with whose service they were concerned to increase the\neffect and the credit of their utterances. In the Odyssey (but not\nthe Iliad) there is a reference to the influence wielded by the\noracle of Apollo in the more important circumstances of a people's\n{290} life. But whether at that time it was an inspired prophetess\nwho gave replies at Delphi we cannot be sure from the poet's words.\nThere must have been oracles of sortilege[43\\9] at that place from\nan early period under the protection of the god and it is these we\nshould naturally expect a poet to mean who nowhere[44\\9] shows any\nknowledge of the striking phenomena of ecstatic _mantik\u00ea_.[45\\9]\n\nIn any case this new _mantik\u00ea_ of inspired prophets, which\nsubsequently enjoyed such enormous development and gave the Delphic\noracle such peculiar power, was a late-coming innovation in the\nApolline cult. Over the chasm in the rock at Pytho, out of which\narose a strange and potent vapour from the depths of the earth,\nthere had once existed an oracle of Gaia at which perhaps inquirers\nhad received their instruction through the means of premonitory\ndreams by night.[46\\9] The earth-goddess was displaced by Apollo\nhere as at many other oracular sites.[47\\9] The accuracy of this\ntradition is confirmed by the Delphic temple legend which speaks of\nthe overthrow of the oracular earth-spirit Python by Apollo.[48\\9]\nThe change may have been gradually brought about; in any case, where\nonce the earth-divinity had spoken directly in dreams to the souls\nof men, there Apollo now prophesied--no longer indirectly through\nthe intervening medium of signs and omens, but directly answering\nthose who, in open-eyed wakefulness, inquired of him, and speaking\nto them out of the mouth of his ecstatically inspired prophetess.\n\nThis Delphic prophecy of inspiration is as far removed from the old\nApolline art of interpreting omens as it is closely allied to the\n_mantik\u00ea_ which we found attached from the earliest times to the\nThracian cult of Dionysos.[49\\9] It appears that in Greece Dionysos\nbut rarely obtained an official priesthood that could have organized\nor maintained a permanent oracular institute attached to a\nparticular place or temple. In the one Dionysiac oracle in Greece,\nhowever, of which we have certain knowledge a priest gave prophecies\nin a state of \"enthusiasm\" and \"possession\" by the god.[50\\9]\nEnthusiasm and ecstasy are invariably the means of the Dionysiac\nprophecy just as they were the means of all Dionysiac religious\nexperience. When we find Apollo in Delphi itself--the place where he\nmost closely allied himself with Dionysos--deserting his old\nomen-interpretation and turning to the prophecy of _ekstasis_, we\ncannot have much doubt as to whence Apollo got this new thing.[51\\9]\n\nWith the mantic _ekstasis_, Apollo received a Dionysiac element into\nhis own religion. Henceforward, he, the cold, {291} aloof, sober\ndeity of former times, can be addressed by titles that imply Bacchic\nexcitement and self-abandonment. He is now the \"enthusiastic\", the\nBacchic god: Aeschylus strikingly calls him \"ivy-crowned Apollo, the\nBacchic-frenzied prophet\" (_fr._ 341). It is now Apollo, who more\nthan any other god, calls forth in men's souls the madness[52\\9]\nthat makes them clairvoyant and enables them to know hidden things.\nAt not a few places there are founded oracular sites at which\npriests or priestesses in frenzied ecstasy utter what Apollo puts\ninto their mouths. But the Pythian oracle remained the pattern of\nthem all. There, prophecy was uttered by the Pythia, the youthful\npriestess who sat upon the tripod over the earth-chasm and was\ninspired by the intoxicating vapour that arose from it, until she\nwas filled with the god, and with his spirit.[53\\9] The god, so ran\nthe belief, entered into the earthly body; or else the soul of the\npriestess, \"released\" from her body, received the heavenly\nrevelation with spiritual sense.[54\\9] What she then \"with frenzied\nmouth\" proclaimed, that the god spoke out of her; when she said \"I\",\nApollo was speaking of himself and of what concerned him.[55\\9] It\nis the god who lives, thinks, and speaks in her so long as the\nmadness lasts.\n\n\u00a7 4\n\nA profound and compelling tendency of the human mind must have been\nthe source of the great religious movement that could succeed in\nestablishing, with the ecstatic prophecy of the Delphic priestess, a\nseed of mysticism in the very heart of Greek religion. The\nintroduction of _ekstasis_ into the ordered stability of the Delphic\nmode of religion was only a symptom of that religious movement and\nnot its cause. But now, confirmed by the god himself, and by the\nexperience which the mantic practice seemed to make so evident, the\nnew belief, so long familiar to Dionysiac religion and worship, must\nhave at last invaded the older and original type of Greek religion,\nand taken hold of it in spite of that religion's natural antipathy\nto anything of the kind. And this belief was that a highly exalted\nstate of feeling could raise man above the normal level of his\nlimited, everyday consciousness, and could elevate him to heights of\nvision and knowledge unlimited; that, further, to the human soul it\nwas not denied, in very truth and not in vain fancy, to live for a\nmoment the life of divinity. This belief is the fountain-head of all\nmysticism, and tradition still records a few traces of the way in\nwhich it grew and spread at that time. {292}\n\nIt is true that the formal and official worship of the gods in\nGreece (where their cults were not obviously affected by foreign\ninfluence) remained as fast-bound as ever within the confines of\norder and lucidity. We hear very little of the entrance of ecstatic\nexaltation into the constitution of the older cults.[56\\9] The\nirresistible religious impulse to such things found an outlet\nthrough other channels. Men and women began to appear who on their\nown initiative began to act as intermediaries between the gods and\nthe needs of individual men. They were natures, we must suppose, of\nunusual susceptibility to \"enthusiastic\" exaltation; having a\nstrange capacity for projecting themselves into the infinite.\nNothing in the organization of Greek religion prevented such men and\nwomen, if they could not obtain authority from any religious\ncommunity of the state itself, from acquiring a real influence in\nreligious matters simply from their own experience of divine\nfavour,[57\\9] their own inward communion with divine powers.\n\nIn the darkness and ferment of this period of growth, from the\neighth to the sixth centuries, we can vaguely discern many such\nshadowy figures; they look uncommonly like those strange products of\nthe earliest infancy of Christianity when prophets, ascetics, and\nexorcists wandered from land to land, called to their work by\nnothing but the immediate grace of god (~cha/risma~), and not\nattached to any permanent religious community. It is true that what\nwe hear of Sibyls and Bakides--men and women who wandered from land\nto land prophesying the future, independently of and uncommissioned\nby any particular oracular institute--is mostly legend; but these\nare the sort of legends that preserve real historical tradition\ncondensed into single types and pictures. The nomenclature itself\ntells us much: Sibyls and Bakides are not individual names, but\n_titles_ belonging to various types[58\\9] of ecstatic prophet, and\nwe are entitled to suppose that the types so named once existed. The\nappearance in many places of Greek Asia Minor and the old mainland\nof Greece of such divinely inspired prophets is among the\ndistinguishing marks of a clearly defined period in Greek history;\nthe age of promise that came immediately before the philosophic\nperiod of Greece. The later age, entirely given up as it was to the\npursuit of philosophic enlightenment, made so little claim to the\ninheritance in their own time of the divine favour that had once\nenabled the Sibyls and Bakides to see their visions and utter their\nwisdom, that there actually began to appear in large numbers\nprophets at second-hand, who were satisfied {293} with preserving\nthe traditional wisdom of the inspired prophets of the past, and\nwith the judicious interpretation of their treasures.[59\\9] The age\nof _enthusiastic_ prophets was evidently a thing of the past. The\nvery literature of Sibylline and Bakid oracles, which began to\nappear just at that time and showed itself capable of an almost\nindefinite extension, was itself largely responsible for the veil of\nmyth and legend which completely enveloped the original bearers of\nthe prophetic title. Earlier and earlier became the historic events\nof the past which they had foretold; further and further into the\nmythical past, _before_ the time of the events prophesied, receded\nthe imaginary period of the great prophets.[60\\9] In spite of which\nthe scientific chronologists of antiquity, who were far from being\nimposed upon by the delusive anticipations of prophetic poems, found\nreason for fixing the date of particular Sibyls--which means for our\npurpose the whole prophetic age of Greece--in the fully historical\nperiod of the eighth and seventh centuries.[61\\9]\n\nWe may recognize, in what we hear of these prophets, the shadowy\nrepresentatives of a once real and living past; they are\nreminiscences of a striking and therefore never quite forgotten\nphase of Greek religious life. The Bakids and Sibyls were\nindependent agents--though not entirely without connexion with the\nregular worship of the gods, they were not attached to any\nparticular temple--who wandered from land to land according to the\nneeds of those who sought their counsel. In this respect, at least,\nthey resembled the Homeric omen-interpreters,[62\\9] and continued\ntheir work; but they differed from them profoundly in the mode of\ntheir prophesying. They were \"seized by the god\" and in ecstatic\nclairvoyance saw and proclaimed unseen things. It was no academic\nskill that they possessed, enabling them to interpret the meaning of\nsigns and omens that anyone could see--they saw what was visible\nonly to God and to the soul of man filled with God.[63\\9] In hoarse\ntones and wild words[64\\9] the Sibyl gave utterance to what the\ndivine impelling power within her and not her own arbitrary fancy\nsuggested; possessed by the god, she spoke in a divine distraction.\nAn echo of such daimonic possession, and of the horrible reality and\nterror that it had for the possessed, can still be heard in the\ncries and convulsions which Aeschylus in the _Agamemnon_ gives to\nhis Kassandra--a true picture of the primitive Sibyl, and a type\nthat the poets of that prophetic generation had reflected backwards\ninto the earlier past of legend.[65\\9] {294}\n\n\u00a7 5\n\nThe activity of the seer was not confined to foreseeing and\nforetelling the future. We hear of a \"Bakis\" who \"purified\" and\ndelivered the women of Sparta from an attack of madness that had\nspread like an epidemic among them.[66\\9] The prophetic age of\nGreece must have seen the origin of what later became part of the\nregular duties of the \"seer\": the cure of diseases, especially those\nof the mind;[67\\9] the averting of evil of every kind by various\nstrange means, and particularly the supply of help and counsel by\n\"purifications\" of a religious nature.[68\\9] The gift or art of\nprophecy, the purification of \"the unclean\", the healing of disease,\nall seem to be derived from one source. Nor can we be long in doubt\nas to what the single source of this threefold capacity must have\nbeen. The world of invisible spirits surrounding man, which ordinary\nfolk know only by its effects, is familiar and accessible to the\necstatic prophet, the _Mantis_, the spirit-seer. As exorcist he\nundertakes to heal disease;[69\\9] the _Kathartic_ process is also\nessentially and originally an exorcism of the baleful influences of\nthe spirit-world.\n\nThe wide popularity and elaboration given to the notion--hardly\nhinted[70\\9] at as yet in Homer--of the universally present menace\nof \"pollution\", which is only to be averted or got rid of by means\nof a religious process of purification--this is one of the chief\ndistinguishing features of the over-anxious piety that marked the\npost-Homeric age when men could no longer be content with the means\nof salvation handed down to them by their fathers. If we confined\nour attention to the fact that now we find purification required for\nsuch actions as murder and the spilling of blood which seem to imply\na moral stain to the doer of them,[71\\9] we might be tempted to see\nin the development of Kathartic practices a fresh step in the\nhistory of Greek ethics, and to suppose that the new practices arose\nout of a refinement and deepening of the \"conscience\" which now\ndesired to be free from the taint of \"sin\" by the help of religion.\nBut such an interpretation of Katharsis (favourite as it is) is\ndisposed of by a consideration of the real essence and meaning of\nthe thing. In later times the methods of Katharsis were nearly\nalways in competition and conflict (rarely in friendly alliance) with\n\"conscience\", with the independently developed ethical thought that\nbased itself upon the unchanging requirements of a moral law\ntranscending all personal will and feeling, and even the will of\ndaimonic powers. In its origin and essence Katharsis {295} had\nnothing whatever to do with morality or with what we should call the\nvoice of conscience. On the contrary, it usurped the place which in\na more advanced and morally developed people would have belonged to\na true morality based on an inner feeling for what is right. Nor did\nit fail to hinder the free and unfettered development of such a\nmorality. Kathartic practices required and implied no feeling of\noffence, of personal guilt, of personal responsibility. All that we\nknow of these practices serves to bring this out and set the matter\nin a clearer light.\n\nCeremonies of \"purification\" accompany every step of a man's life\nfrom the cradle to the grave. The woman with child is \"unclean\" and\nso is anyone who touches her; the new-born child is unclean;[72\\9]\nmarriage is fenced about with a series of purificatory rites; the\ndead, and everything that approaches them, are unclean. Now, in\nthese instances of the common and almost daily occurrence of\npurification ceremonies, there can be no moral stain involved that\nrequires to be washed off, not even a symbolical one. Equally little\ncan there be any when ritual purifications are employed after a bad\ndream,[73\\9] the occurrence of a prodigy,[74\\9] recovery from\nillness, or when a person has touched an offering made to deities of\nthe lower world or the graves of the dead; or when it is found\nnecessary to purify house and hearth,[75\\9] and even fire and\nwater[76\\9] for sacred or profane purposes. The purification of\nthose who have shed blood stands on exactly the same footing. It was\nnecessary even for those who had killed a man with just cause, or\nhad committed homicide unknowingly or unwillingly; the moral aspect\nof such cases, the guilt or innocence of the doer, is ignored or\nunperceived. Even in the case of premeditated murder, the remorse of\nthe criminal or his \"will to amend\"[77\\9] is quite superfluous to\nthe efficacy of purification.\n\nIt could not be otherwise. The \"stain\" which is wiped out by these\nmysterious and religious means is not \"within the heart of man\". It\nclings to a man as something hostile, and from without, and that can\nbe spread from him to others like an infectious disease.[78\\9]\nHence, the purification is effected by religious processes directed\nto the _external_ removal of the evil thing; it may be washed off\n(as by water from a running spring or from the sea), it may be\nviolently effaced and obliterated (as by fire or even smoke alone),\nit may be absorbed (by wool, fleece of animals, eggs),[79\\9] etc.\n\nIt must be something hostile and dangerous to men that is thus\nremoved; since this something can only be attacked by {296}\nreligious means, it must belong to the daimonic world to which alone\nReligion and its means of salvation have reference. There exists a\npopulation of spirits whose neighbourhood or contact with men\nrenders then \"unclean\", for it gives them over to the power of the\nunholy.[80\\9] Anyone who touches their places of abode, or the\nofferings made to them, falls under their spell; they may send him\nsickness, insanity, evils of every kind. The priest with his\npurifications is an \"exorcist\" who sets free those who have fallen\nvictims to the surrounding powers of darkness. He certainly fulfils\nthis function when he disperses diseases, i.e. the spirits who send\nthe diseases, by his ministrations;[81\\9] when he employs in his\npurificatory ritual hymns and incantatory formul\u00e6 which regularly\nimply an invisibly listening being to whom they are addressed;[82\\9]\nwhen he uses the clang of bronze instruments whose well-known\nproperty it is to drive away ghosts.[83\\9] Where human blood has\nbeen shed and requires \"purification\" the Kathartic priest\naccomplishes this \"by driving out murder with murder\",[84\\9] i.e. he\nlets the blood of a sacrificed animal fall over the hands of the\npolluted person. Here, the purification is plainly in the nature of\na substitution-sacrifice (the animal being offered instead of the\nmurderer).[85\\9] In this way the anger of the dead is washed\naway--for this anger is itself the pollution that is to be\nremoved.[86\\9] The famous scapegoats were nothing but sacrifices\noffered to appease the anger of the Unseen, and thereby release a\nwhole city from \"pollution\". At the _Thargelia_ or on extraordinary\noccasions of need in Ionic cities, and even in Athens, unfortunate\nmen were in ancient times slain or stoned to death or burnt \"for the\npurification of the city\".[87\\9] Even the materials of purification\nthat in private life served to free the individual and his house\nfrom the claims of invisible powers, were thought of as offerings to\nthese powers: this is proved clearly enough by the custom of\nremoving such materials, when they had served their purpose as\n\"purifications\", to the cross-roads, and of making them over to the\nunearthly spirits who have their being there. The materials of\npurification so treated are in fact identical with offerings to the\ndead or even with \"Hekate's banquets\".[88\\9] In this case we can see\nmost clearly what the forces are which Kathartic processes\nessentially aim at averting. In them no attempt was made to satisfy\na heartfelt consciousness of sin or a moral sense that has become\ndelicate; they were much rather the result of a superstitious fear\nof uncanny forces surrounding men and stretching out after them with\na thousand threatening hands in the darkness. {297} It was the\nmonstrous phantasies of their own imagination that made men call\nupon the priests of purification and expiation for much-needed aid\nand protection.\n\n\u00a7 6\n\nIt is simply the invasion of human life by the sinister creatures of\nthe daimonic world that the clairvoyant _mantis_ is supposed to\navert with his \"purifications\". Among these sinister influences\nHekate and her crew are particularly noticeable. This is without\ndoubt an ancient product of religious phantasy--though it is not\nmentioned by Homer--which did not till a late period emerge from the\nobscurity of local observance and obtain general popularity: even\nthen it only here and there ceased to be a private and domestic cult\nand reached the dignity of public city-worship.[89\\9] The cult of\nHekate fled the light of day, as did the wild farrago of weird and\nsinister phantoms that surrounded her. She is _chthonic_, a goddess\nof the lower world,[90\\9] where she is at home; but, more easily\nthan other lower-world creatures, she finds her way to the living\nworld of men. Wherever a soul is entering into partnership with a\nbody--at birth or in child bed--she is at hand;[91\\9] where a soul\nis separating from a body, in burials of the dead, she is there.\nAmidst the dwelling-places of the departed, the monuments of the\ndead and the gloomy ritual of their worship, she is in her\nelement.[92\\9] She is the queen of the souls who are still fast\nbound to the upper world. It shows her deep-seated connexion with\nthe primeval worship of the dead at the household hearth,[93\\9] when\nwe hear of Hekate as dwelling \"in the depth of the hearth\",[94\\9]\nand being honoured together with the underworld Hermes, her\nmasculine counterpart, among the domestic gods who \"were left to us\nby our forefathers\".[95\\9]\n\nThis domestic cult may be a legacy from times when in familiar\nintercourse with the lower world men did not yet fear \"pollution\"\ntherefrom.[95a\\9] To later ages Hekate was the principal source and\noriginator of all that was ghostly and uncanny. Men came upon her\nsuddenly and to their hurt by night, or in the dreamy solitudes of\nmidday's blinding heat; they see her in monstrous shapes that, like\nthe figures in a dream, are continually changing.[96\\9] The names of\nmany female deities of the underworld of whom the common people had\nmuch to say--Gorgyra (Gorgo), Mormo, Lamia, Gello or Empousa, the\nghost of midday--denote in reality so many different\npersonifications and variations of Hekate.[97\\9] {298} She appeared\nmost frequently by night, under the half-light of the moon, at the\ncross-roads. She is not alone but is accompanied by her \"crew\", the\nhand-maidens who follow in her train. These are the souls of those\nwho have not had their share of burial and the holy rites that\naccompany it; who have been violently done to death, or who have\ndied \"before their time\".[98\\9] Such souls find no rest after death;\nthey travel on the wind now, in the company of Hekate and her\ndaimonic pack of hounds.[99\\9] It is not without reason that we are\nreminded of the legends of \"wild hunters\" and the \"furious host\", so\nfamiliar in modern times in many countries.[100\\9] Similar beliefs\nproduced similar results in each case; perhaps there is even some\nhistorical connexion between them.[101\\9] These night-wandering\nspirits and souls of the dead bring pollution and disaster upon all\nwho meet them or fall into their hands; they send evil dreams,\nnightmares, nocturnal apparitions, madness and epilepsy.[102\\9] It\nis for them, the unquiet souls of the dead and Hekate their queen,\nthat men set out the \"banquets of Hekate\" at the cross-roads.[103\\9]\nTo them men consign with averted faces the remains of the\npurificatory sacrifices[104\\9] that they may not come too close to\nhuman dwelling places. Puppies, too, were sacrificed to Hekate for\n\"purifications\", i.e. \"apotropaic\" sacrifices.\n\nGruesome inventions of all kinds were easily attached to this\nprovince of supernaturalism: it is one of the sources which, with\nhelp from other Greek conceptions and many foreign creations of\nfancy, let loose a stream of anxious and gloomy superstitiousness\nthat spread through the whole of later antiquity and even reached\nthrough the Middle Ages to our own day.\n\nProtection and riddance from such things were sought at the hands of\nseers and \"Kathartic priests\" who, in addition to ceremonies of\npurification and exorcism had other ways of giving\nhelp--prescriptions and recipes of many strange sorts which were\noriginally clear and natural enough to the fantastic logic of\nsuperstition and were still credited and handed down as magic and\ninexplicable formul\u00e6 after their real meaning had been entirely\nforgotten. Others, again, were driven by a fearful curiosity to\nattempt to bring the world of surrounding spirits--of whose doings\nsuch strange stories were told in legend[105\\9]--even closer to\nthemselves. By magic arts and incantations, they compelled the\nwandering ghosts and even Hekate herself to appear before\nthem:[106\\9] the magic power forces them to do the will of the\nspirit-raiser or to harm his enemies.[107\\9] It was these creatures\nof the spirit-world that {299} magicians and exorcists claimed to\nbanish or compel. Popular belief was on their side in this, but it\nis hardly possible that they never resorted to deceit and imposture\nin making good their claims.\n\n\u00a7 7\n\nThe mantic and Kathartic practices, together with what arose out of\nthem, are known to us almost exclusively as they were in the time of\ntheir decay. Even in the brief sketch just attempted of this notable\nby-way of Greek religion, many details have had to be taken from the\naccounts left to us by later ages that had quite outgrown the whole\nidea of mantic and Kathartic procedure. Compared on the one hand\nwith science, seriously engaged in studying the real and inward\nsources of being and becoming throughout the world, together with\nthe limitations of man's estate, and on the other hand with the\npractical and cautious medical study of the physical conditions of\nhuman life in health and sickness, the mantic and Kathartic\npractices and all the myriad superstitions arising from them seemed\nlike a legacy from a forgotten and discredited past. But such things\npersisted in many circles of old-fashioned and primitive-minded\npeople, though by the emancipated and cultured they were despised as\nthe silly and dangerous quackery of mendicant priests and wizards.\n\nBut this product of the religious instinct cannot always have\nappeared in such a light; it certainly was not so regarded when it\nfirst came into prominence. A movement that was zealously taken up\nby the Delphic oracle, which influenced many Greek states in the\norganization of their religious cults, must have had a period when\nits right to exist was incontestable. It must have answered to the\nneeds of a time when the dawning sense of the profound unity and\ninterconnexion of all being and becoming in the world still\ncontented itself with a religious explanation of what seemed\nmysterious, and when a few chosen natures were seriously credited\nwith the power to communicate with the all-embracing spirit-world.\nEvery age has its own ideal of Wisdom; and there came a time when\nthe ideal of the Wise Man, who by his own innate powers has achieved\na commanding spiritual position and insight, became embodied in the\npersons of certain great men who seemed to fulfil the highest\nconceptions of wisdom and power that were attributed to the ecstatic\nseer and priest of purification. The half-mythical stories in which\nlater ages preserved the memory of the times lying just before the\n{300} age of the philosophic exploration of nature tell us of\ncertain great masters of a mysterious and occult Wisdom. It is true\nthat they are credited with powers over nature of a magical kind\nrather than with a purely intellectual insight into the laws of\nnature; but even in the scanty accounts of them which have come down\nto us there are clear indications that their work already included\nthe first attempts at a mode of study based on theory. We cannot\ncall them philosophers--not even the forerunners of Greek\nphilosophy. More often their point of view was one which the real\nphilosophic impulse towards self-determination and the freedom of\nthe soul consciously and decisively rejected, and continued to\nreject, though not indeed without occasional wavering and\nbacksliding. These men must be counted among the magicians and\nexorcists who so often appear in the earliest dawn of the spiritual\nhistory of civilized nations, and, as primitive and marvellous types\nof the spirit of inquiry, precede the philosophers. They all belong\nto the class of ecstatic seers and Kathartic priests.\n\nLegend related how, out of the country of the Hyperboreans, that\ndistant Wonderland where Apollo hid himself in winter, there came to\nGreece one Abaris, sent by the god himself. He was a saint and\nneeded no earthly food. Carrying in his hand the golden arrow, the\nproof of his Apolline origin and mission, he passed through many\nlands dispelling sickness and pestilence by sacrifices of a magic\nkind, giving warning of earthquakes and other disasters. Even in\nlater times prophecies and \"purifications\", going under his name,\nwere still to be read.[108\\9]--This man, and also another like him,\ncalled Aristeas, were already mentioned by Pindar (_fr._ 271).\nAristeas, a man of high rank in his native city of Prokonnesos, had\nthe magic gift of prolonged _ekstasis_. When his soul left his body\nbehind, being \"seized by Phoibos\", it (as his second self made\nvisible) was seen in distant places.[109\\9] As Apollo's attendant he\nalso appeared together with the god in Metapontum. A bronze statue\nin the market-place of that city remained to testify to his presence\nthere, and to the astonishment awakened by his inspired\nutterances.[110\\9] But among all these examples of the type,[111\\9]\nHermotimos of Klazomenai is the most striking. His soul could desert\nhis body \"for many years\", and on its return from its ecstatic\nvoyages, brought with it much mantic lore and knowledge of the\nfuture. At last, enemies set fire to the tenantless body of\nHermotimos when his soul was away, and the latter returned no\nmore.[112\\9]\n\nThe greatest master of all these magically gifted men was, {301}\naccording to tradition, Epimenides. His home was in Crete, an\nancient centre of Kathartic wisdom,[113\\9] where Epimenides was\ninstructed in this lore as an adherent of the cult of the underworld\nZeus.[114\\9] Through a mist of legend and fable we hear of his\nprolonged stay in the mysterious cave of Zeus on Mt. Ida, his\nintercourse with the spirits of the darkness, his severe\nfasting,[115\\9] the long ecstasy of his soul,[116\\9] and his final\nreturn from solitude to the light of day, much experienced and\nfar-travelled in \"enthusiastic wisdom\".[117\\9] Next he journeyed\nthrough many lands bringing his health-giving arts with him,\nprophesying the future as an ecstatic seer,[118\\9] interpreting the\nhidden meaning of past occurrences, and as Kathartic priest\nexpelling the daimonic evils that arose from specially foul misdeeds\nof the past. The Kathartic activity of Epimenides in Delos and other\nGreek cities was famous.[119\\9] It was in particular never forgotten\nhow in Athens at the end of the seventh century he brought to a\nsatisfactory close the expiation of the godless murder of the\nfollowers of Kylon.[120\\9] With potent ceremonies of which his\nwisdom alone knew the secret, with sacrifice of animals and men, he\nappeased[121\\9] the anger of the offended spirits of the depth who\nin their rage were \"polluting\" and harming the city . . .\n\nIt was not without reason that later tradition, undeterred by\nquestions of chronological possibility, brought all the names just\nmentioned into connexion with Pythagoras or his adherents,[122\\9]\nand was even accustomed to refer to Pherekydes of Syros, the latest\nof the band, as the teacher of Pythagoras. The practice, if not the\nphilosophy, of the Pythagorean sect grew up among the ideas and what\nmay be called the teaching of these men, and belongs to the epoch\nwhich honoured them as Wise Men. We still possess a few scraps of\nevidence to show that the conceptions guiding their life and work\ntended to reach some sort of unification in the minds of these\nvisionaries who were yet something more than the mere practicians of\na magical species of religion. We cannot, indeed, tell how far the\nfanciful pictures of the origin of the world of men which\nEpimenides[123\\9] and Pherekydes drew were connected with the\nbusiness and professional activity of these men;[124\\9] but when it\nis related of Hermotimos that he, like his country-man Anaxagoras,\nattempted a distinction between pure \"mind\" and matter,[125\\9] we\ncan see very clearly how this theory might arise out of his special\n\"experiences\". The ecstasies of the soul of which Hermotimos himself\nand this whole generation had such ample experience seemed to point\nto the separability of the soul from the body[126\\9]--and, indeed,\nto the superiority of {302} the soul's essence in its separate state\nover that of the body--as to a fact of the most firmly established\nauthenticity. In contrast with the soul the body could hardly help\nappearing as an encumbrance, an obstacle to be got rid of. The\nconception of an ever-threatening pollution and \"uncleanness\" which\nwas nourished by the teaching and activities of those innumerable\npurification-priests of whom Epimenides is known to us as the\nsupreme master, had gradually so penetrated the whole of the\nofficial religion itself with purification-ceremonies that it might\nvery well have seemed as though, in the midst of this renovation and\ndevelopment of a type of religious thought that had been more than\nhalf forgotten in the Homeric period, Greek religion was fast\napproaching the condition of Brahmanism or Zoroastrianism and\nbecoming essentially a religion of purification. Those who had\nbecome familiar with the contrast between body and soul, especially\nif they lived in the atmosphere of Kathartic ideas and their\npractical exercise, were almost bound to proceed to the idea that\neven the \"soul\" required to be purified from the polluting\nembarrassment of the body. That such ideas were almost a commonplace\nis shown by many stories and turns of phrase which represent the\ndestruction of the body by fire as a \"purification\" of the man\nhimself.[127\\9] Wherever these ideas--the precise opposite and\ncontrary of the Homeric conception of the relation between body and\nsoul-image--had penetrated more deeply they must have led to the\nidea that even in the lifetime of the body the purification of the\nsoul should be prepared by the denial and inhibition of the body and\nits impulses. The first step was thus taken towards a purely\nnegative system of morality, not attempting the inner reformation of\nthe will, but aiming simply at averting from the soul of man a\npolluting evil threatening it from without--in fact to a morality of\nreligious _asceticism_ such as later became such an important and\ndecisive spiritual movement in Greece. In spite of all the\ninadequacy of our information about these Wise Men of the early\npre-philosophic period, we can still dimly make out the fact that\ntheir natural bent lay in this ascetic direction (the abstention\nfrom food practised by Abaris and Epimenides are distinct cases of\nit).[128\\9] How far, exactly, they went in this direction is indeed\nmore than we can say.\n\nThus, the ascetic ideal was not absent even from Greece. It\nremained, however--in spite of the influence it had in some\nquarters--always a foreign thing in Greece, having its obscure home\namong sects of spiritualistic enthusiasts, and regarded in contrast\nwith the normal and ruling view of life, as a paradox, {303} almost\na heresy. The official religion itself is not entirely without the\nseeds of an ascetic system of morality; but the ascetic ideal, fully\ndeveloped and distinguished from the simple and normal religious\nattitude, was in Greece found only among minorities who cut\nthemselves off in closed and exclusive conventicles of a theological\nor philosophical temper. The \"Wise Men\" as idealized in the legends\nof Abaris. Epimenides, etc., were as individuals not far removed\nfrom the ideal of asceticism. Nor was it long before the attempt was\nmade to use these ideals as the basis on which to found a society.\n\n\nNOTES TO CHAPTER IX\n\n[1\\9: We may safely take it for granted that ~Dio/nusos~ is the\n_Greek_ name of the god, though a completely convincing etymology\nfor the word has yet to be found. Recent attempts to derive it from\nthe Thracian language are not very convincing. (Tomaschek, _Sitzber.\nWien. Ak._ 130, 41; Kretschmer, _Aus der Anomia_, 22 f.; _Einl._\n241.) Acc. to Kretschmer a Thracian origin for the name is proved by\nthe appearance of the form ~Deo/nuso~--on inss. found in a few Greek\ntowns surrounded by Thracian influences, e.g. Abdera, Maroneia. Acc.\nto him the transition from ~i~ to ~e~ before a vowel is regular in\nThrako-Phrygian, while on the other hand \"it is completely\nincompatible with all the laws of Greek phonetics\". Others have\ndisagreed with this view, e.g. G. Curtius, certainly an _auctor\nprobabilis_, to whom the occasional appearance of the transition\nfrom ~i~ to ~e~ before a vowel (side by side with the much commoner\nreverse process) seemed quite compatible with the laws of Greek\nphonetics. He even counted ~Dio/nusos--Deu/nusos~ (Anakreon) among\nthe examples of this vowel change within the limits of the Greek\nlanguage (_Gr. Etym._^5, p. 608 f.). At any rate ~Ea/s\u00f4n = Ia/s\u00f4n~,\nand ~patroue/an = patr\u00f4i/an~ are certain cases of it (see Meister,\n_Gr. Dial._ i, 294; G. Meyer, _Gr. Gramm._^2, p. 162). Kretschmer\nhimself, _Einl._ 225, supplies ~Askl\u00eapeo/d\u00f4ros, Dei/ = Dii/~. To\naccount for these forms he postulates the influence of Thracian\nsurroundings on Greek pronunciation; but in the case of such a\npurely Greek word as ~Askl\u00eapio/d\u00f4ros~ the Thracian influence must\nhave been a _secondary_ phenomenon operating to cause the alteration\nof the old [=i][=o] into [=e][=o]. Why should we not use the same\nexplanation in accounting for the change from ~Dio/nusos~ to\n~Deo/nusos~ and (_if_ Thracian influence is to be presumed--by no\nmeans probable in view of the statement of _EM._ 259, 30,\n~Deo/nusos, hou/t\u00f4 ga\\r _Sa/mioi_ prophe/rousin~) say that this\nThracian influence was a secondary one acting upon the original\n_Greek_ form of the name ~Dio/nusos~?--It is evident that the\nancients had no idea that ~Dio/nusos (Di\u00f4/nusos, Dio/nnusos)~ was\nthe indigenous name of the Thracian god, for they would in that case\nhave said so without hesitation. They derived the conception,\nfigure, and cult of the god from Thrace but not this particular\nname, which they regularly regard as the Greek name of the daimon\nwhom the Thracians spoke of as ~Saba/zios~ or otherwise. (So too\nHdt. regards ~Dio/nusos~ as the Greek name of the god whose\nessential nature is Egyptian.) This is by no means without\nimportance; on the contrary, it provides cogent reason for doubting\nthe (otherwise insecurely founded) derivation of the name from the\nThracian.]\n\n[2\\9: The women in Boeotia ~enthe\u00f4/tata ema/n\u00easan~ (cf. Eur.,\n_Ba._). ~tai=s Lakedaimoni/\u00f4n gunaixi\\n ene/pese/ tis oi=stros\nbakchiko\\s kai\\ tai=s t\u00f4=n Chi/\u00f4n~, Ael., _VH._ iii, 42. Hdt. ix,\n34, speaks inclusively of the madness of the women in Argos (~t\u00f4=n\nen A/rge\u00ef gunaik\u00f4=n maneise/\u00f4n~), where others speak only of the\nfrenzy attacking the daughters of Proitos. Neither is incompatible\nwith the other; they simply represent two different stages of the\nstory. The ~mai/nesthai~ which attacks the entire female population\nis not (as later accounts generally make out) the punishment sent by\nDionysos: it is simply another way of expressing the general\nacceptance of his worship which essentially consisted in {305}\n~mai/nesthai (= bakcheu/ein~ in Ant. Lib. 10). The ~mai/nesthai~ of\nindividual women who try to resist the contagious enthusiasm of the\nDionysiac revelry going on around them (e.g. the daughters of\nEleuther: Suid. ~melanaig. Di/on.~) is, however, a punishment sent\nby the angry god when it leads them to murder their own\nchildren.--The regular and widespread \"mania\" of the newly\nintroduced cult of Dionysos is referred to also by D.S. 4, 68, 4;\n[Apollod.] 2, 2, 2, 5; Paus. 2, 18, 4; cf. also Nonn., _D._ 47, 481\nff.]\n\n[3\\9: Resistance of Perseus to Dionysos who in this account arrives\nwith the Mainads from the islands of the Aegean Sea (so Paus.);\nvictory of Perseus, followed, however, by a reconciliation with the\ngod whose worship is established and a temple built for Dionysos\nKresios: Paus. 2, 20, 4; 22, 1; 23, 7-8. So, too, Nonn., _D._ 47,\n475-741; [Apollod.] 3, 5, 2, 3; Sch. V., ~X~ 319; cf. Meineke, _An.\nAlex._ 51. (Dionysos is slain in the war with Perseus: Dinarchos\n\"the poet\" ap. Eus., _Chr._ ii, pp. 44-5 Sch. = an. 718 Abr.; Lob.,\n_Agl._ 537 f.).--Lykourgos does not properly belong to this series:\nhis legend, as told by [Apollod.] 3, 5, 1 (apparently following the\ndirection given to it by Aesch.), is a late transformation of the\nstory preserved by Homer, in which stories of Pentheus or the\nMinyads or the Proitides are imitated.]\n\n[4\\9: This is esp. clear in the legend dealing with Orchomenos; cf.\nthe account in Plu., _Q.Gr._ 38, p. 293 D. It is very probable that\nthe other stories, too, were founded upon sacrificial ritual; cf.\nWelcker, _Gr. G\u00f6tterl._ i, 444 ff.]\n\n[5\\9: Cf. also Sch. Ar., _Ach._ 243.]\n\n[6\\9: Cf. Eur., _Ba._ 217 ff., 487, 32 ff. The daughters of Minyas\n~epo/thoun tou\\s game/tas~ (see Perizon. ad loc.) ~kai\\ dia\\ tou=to\nouk ege/nonto t\u00f4=| the\u00f4=| maina/des~, Ael., _VH._ iii, 42.\nThroughout all these legends the contrast between Dionysos and Hera,\nwho is the patroness of marriage, is very marked.]\n\n[7\\9: ~orsigu/naika Di/onuson~--unknown poet ap. Plu., _Exil._ 17,\np. 607 C; _Smp._ 4, 6, 1, p. 671 C; _E_ ap. _D._ 9, 389 B.\n~hi/lathi, eiraphi\u00f4=ta, gunaimane/s~, _h. Hom._ 34, 17.]\n\n[8\\9: Like an infection or a conflagration. ~\u00ea/d\u00ea to/d' eggu\\s\nh\u00f4/ste pu=r epha/ptetai hu/brisma Bakchou=, pso/gos es He/ll\u00eanas\nme/gas~, Pentheus in E., _Ba._ 778.]\n\n[9\\9: See the accounts reported ap. Hecker, _Epidemics of the M.A._,\npp. 88, 153 Babington, esp. those of Petrus de Herental (ap. Steph.\nBaluz., _Vit. Pap. Avinion._ i, 483): quaedam nomina daemoniorum\nappellabant. The dancer cernit Mariae filium et caelum\napertum.--\"The masters of the Holy Scripture who exorcized the\ndancers regarded them as being possessed by the devil.\" (Limburg\nChronicle; see _Mon. Germ., Chron._ iv, 1, ed. Tilemann: p. 64, ed.\nWyss.)]\n\n[10\\9: Details given by Weniger, _Dionysosdienst in Elis_, p. 8\n(1883).]\n\n[11\\9: At Delphi there was a festival called ~h\u00ear\u00f4\u00ef/s~ in which the\nDionysiac _Thyiades_ took part; a ~Seme/l\u00eas anag\u00f4g\u00ea/~ was the chief\nfeature of the ~dr\u00f4/mena phaner\u00f4=s~ (Plu., _Q.Gr._ 12). The name\n~h\u00ear\u00f4\u00ef/s~ points to a general festival of the dead (cf. Voigt in\nRoscher's _Lex._ i, 1048); for another general festival of \"Heroes\"\nat Delphi see chap. iv, n. 82. At Athens the great festival of the\ndead, the Choes and Chytrai (chap. v, p. 168) formed part of the\nAnthesteria. It is precisely in these ~archaio/tera Dionu/sia~\n(Thuc. ii, 15, 4) that Dionysos appears as he was in primitive\nbelief, the \"master of the souls\". Thus, too, in Argos one of the\nmost ancient seats of the worship of Dionysos, the Dionysiac\nfestival of the Agriania was at the same time a festival {306} of\nthe dead, ~neku/sia~: Hsch., ~agria/nia~ (it was specially ~epi\\\nmia=| t\u00f4=n Proi/tou thugate/r\u00f4n~ [Iphino\u00eb: Apollod. 2, 22, 8], Hsch.\ns.v.: even so it was a festival of the dead).--In Plu., _E ap. D._\n9, 389 A, in view of the hopeless confusion shown by Plutarch in\nthat chapter between Delphic cult-procedure and the opinions of\ncertain unspecified ~theolo/goi~, it is unfortunately impossible to\nsay with certainty whether it is the Delphians who ~Dio/nuson kai\\\nZagre/a kai\\ Nukte/lion kai\\ Isodai/t\u00ean onoma/zousin~ or whether\nthis only applies to the ~theolo/goi~ (in which case they are\nprobably Orphics).]\n\n[12\\9: The _Agrionia_ to the \"savage\" god (~\u00f4m\u00east\u00ea\\s kai\\\nagri\u00f4/nios~ as contrasted with the ~charido/t\u00eas kai\\ meili/chios~,\nPlu., _Ant._ 24) were celebrated in Thebes and Argos. ~agri\u00f4/nia\nkai\\ nukte/lia h\u00f4=n ta\\ polla\\ dia\\ sko/tous dra=tai~ are opposed to\nthe ~olu/mpia hiera/~, by Plu., _QR._ 112, p. 291 A. Bacchic din,\n~pso/phos~, at the ~nukte/lia~, Plu., _Smp._ 4, 6, p. 672 A.--Temple\nof D. ~Nukte/lios~ at Megara: Paus. 1, 40, 6. Nocturnal festivities\n(~nu/kt\u00f4r ta\\ polla\\~, Eur., _Ba._ 486) at the Dionysia at Lerna =\nPaus. 2, 37, 6, at the festival of ~Dio/nusos Lampt\u00ea/r~ in Pellone:\nPaus. 7, 27, 3. ~o/rgia~ of D. at Melangeia in Arcadia 8, 6, 5; at\nHeraia 8, 26, 1. The orgiastic cult of D. seems to have been\npreserved particularly in Sparta. We hear of the ~oi=stros\nbakchiko/s~ that once attacked the women of Sparta from Aelian,\n_VH._ iii, 42; some lines of Alkman (_fr._ 34) allude to the\nfanatical Bacchic revels on the mountain tops (quite misunderstood\nby Welcker, _Kl. Schr._ iv, 49). It became proverbial: virginibus\nbacchata Lacaenis Taygeta, Vg., _G._ ii, 487. A special word is\napplied to the Bacchic fury of these Spartan Mainads: ~du/smainai~\n(Philarg. on Vg., _G._ ii, 487; Hsch. s.v.; Meineke, _An. Alex._\n360). In view of these ecstatic mountain-revels we need not be\nsurprised at the prohibition of drunken roaming about the city and\ncountryside, of which Pl., _Lg._ 637 AB speaks.]\n\n[13\\9: Welcker, _Gr. G\u00f6tterl._ i, 444.--But human sacrifice in the\nThracian worship of D. is nevertheless suggested by the remarkable\nstory of Porph. (_Abs._ ii, 8) about the ~Ba/ssaroi~ (whom he seems\nto take for a Thracian tribe.]\n\n[14\\9: Clem. Al., Arn., Firm. all speak of the ~\u00f4mophagi/a~ of the\nBakchai as a still-prevailing cult-practice. Bernays, _Heraklit.\nBriefe_, 73. Galen, too, speaks in the same way of the tearing in\npieces of snakes at the Bacchic festivals (quoted Lob., _Agl._ 271\na; to snare vipers ~ka/llisto/s esti kairo/s, ho\\n kai\\ auto\\s ho\nAndro/machos~ (79 ff. of his poem) ~ed\u00ea/l\u00f4sen, h\u00eani/ka kai\\ hoi t\u00f4=|\nDionu/s\u00f4| bakcheu/ontes ei\u00f4/thasi diaspa=n ta\\s echi/dnas,\npauome/nou me\\n tou= h\u00ea=ros ou/p\u00f4 d' \u00eargme/nou tou= the/rous~\n(_Antid._ i, 8 = xiv, p. 45 K.). ~h\u00eani/ka--echi/dnas~ are Gal.'s\nwords not Andromachos'. Cf. also Prud., _Sym._ i, 130 ff.]\n\n[15\\9: We need only recall the remarkable story of Hdt. (iv, 79)\nabout the Scythian king who in Borysthenes was initiated into the\nmysteries of Dionysos Bakcheios ~ho\\s mai/nesthai ena/gei\nanthr\u00f4/pous~. His Scythian subjects took exception to this. For them\nthe religion was specifically Greek, A Borysthenite says to the\nScythians: ~h\u00eam\u00f4=n ga\\r katagela=te, \u00f4= Sku/thai, ho/ti bakcheu/omen\nkai\\ h\u00eama=s ho theo\\s _lamba/nei_. nu=n hou=tos ho dai/m\u00f4n kai\\ to\\n\nhume/teron basile/a lela/b\u00eake kai\\ bakcheu/ei kai\\ hupo\\ tou= theou=\n_mai/netai_.~]\n\n[16\\9: Cf. the remarkable account given by Plu., _Mul. Virt._ 11, p.\n249 B; _fr. de An._ ap. Gell. 15, 10; Polyaen. 8, 63; and Lucian in\n_H.Conscr._ (25), 1.]\n\n[17\\9: Of a different description are the attacks of temporary\ninsanity accompanied by similar features but not religious in\ncomplexion described by Aretaeus, p. 82 K., and Gal. vii, pp. 60-1\nK. (the case of Theophilos).] {307}\n\n[18\\9: Phenomena of ~korubantiasmo/s~: hearing the sound of flutes\nPl., _Crit._ 54 D, Max. T., _Diss._ 38, 2, p. 220 R.; cf. Cic.,\n_Div._ i, 114; seeing ~phantasi/ai~, D.H., _Dem._ 22. It is this\nwaking dream-condition, a condition related to hypnosis, which Pliny\nprobably means: patentibus oculis dormiunt multi homines, quos\ncorybantiare Graeci dicunt, _NH._ xi, 147. Excitement, beating\nheart, weeping: Pl., _Smp._ 215 E. Maddened dance: ~hoi\nkorubanti\u00f4=ntes ouk e/mphrones o/ntes orchou=ntai~, _Ion_, 534 A.\n\"Sober drunkenness\" ~me/th\u00ea n\u00eapha/lios~ of the ~korub.~, Philo,\n_Mund. Op._ 23, i, p. 16 M.--The name shows that those attacked by\nthe disease were regarded as \"possessed\" by the Korybantes.\n~korubantia=n to\\ Koru/basi kate/chesthai~, Sch. Ar., _V._ 9. The\nKorybantes ~mani/as kai\\ entheiasmou= eisin empoi\u00eatikoi/~, ib. 8.\n~e/ntheos ek semn\u00f4=n Koruba/nt\u00f4n~, E., _Hip._ 142; Sch. ad loc.:\n~Koru/bantes mani/as ai/tioi. e/nthen kai\\ koruba/ntia=n~.--Arrian\ngives an unusually good account of the Korybantic frenzy of the\nPhrygians in a little noticed passage ap. Eust. on D.P. 809:\n~mai/nontai t\u00ea=| Rhe/a| kai\\ pro\\s Koruba/nt\u00f4n kate/chontai, \u00ea/goun\nkorubanti\u00f4=si daimon\u00f4=ntes~ (i.e. possessed by the ~dai/m\u00f4n~, see\nUsener, _G\u00f6tternamen_, 293). ~ho/tan de\\ kata/sch\u00ea| autou\\s to\\\nthei=on, elauno/menoi kai\\ me/ga bo\u00f4=ntes kai\\ orchou/menoi\nprothespi/zousi ta\\ me/llonta, theophorou/menoi kai\\ maino/menoi~.\nThe complete similarity between this condition and that of the\nBacchic worship is sufficiently obvious.]\n\n[19\\9: Use of dance and music to cure those who are attacked by\nKorybantic excitement: Pl., _Lg._ 790 DE, 791 A. More especially the\nmelodies for the flute composed by Olympos, being ~thei=a~, were\nable to discover and cure those liable to Korybantic _ekstasis_ (by\nmeans of the _inspiring_ effect which they had on such persons).\nThis is shown particularly by a passage in Plato (_Smp._ 215 C-E);\nwhere it is evident that the ~korubanti\u00f4=ntes~ of 215 E are not to\nbe distinguished from the ~the\u00f4=n kai\\ telet\u00f4=n deo/menoi~ of 215 C\n(C states the general rule of which E is a particular application).\nThis homoeopathic cure of the ~korubanti\u00f4=ntes~ by the\nintensification and subsequent discharge of the disorder is implied\nin all that we hear of the character of the Phrygian mode as\n~enthousiastik\u00ea/~ and of the ~me/l\u00ea Olu/mpou~ as exciting the souls\nof men to \"_enthousiasmos_\"; Arist., _Pol._ 1340b, 4, 5, 1342b, 1\nff., 1340a, 8; [Pl.], _Min._ 318 B; Cic., _Div._ i, 114. The\n~korubanti\u00f4=ntes~ are also meant in Arist., _Pol._ 8, 7, 1342a, 7 ff\n~. . . kai\\ ga\\r hupo\\ tau/t\u00eas t\u00ea=s kin\u00ea/se\u00f4s~ (i.e. ~tou=\nenthousiasmou=) katak\u00f4/chimoi/ tine/s eisin; ek de\\ t\u00f4=n hier\u00f4=n\nmel\u00f4=n hor\u00f4=men tou/tous, ho/tan chr\u00ea/s\u00f4ntai toi=s orgia/zousi t\u00ea\\n\npsuch\u00ea\\n me/lesi, kathistame/nous h\u00f4/sper iatrei/as tucho/ntas kai\\\nkatha/rse\u00f4s~. Plato's analysis (_Lg._ 790 D ff.) is exactly\nparallel: the cure for the ~manikai\\ diathe/seis~ of the Korybantic\npatients is ~ouch h\u00easuchi/a alla\\ tounanti/on ki/n\u00easis~, whereby\nthey are assisted to regain their ~he/xeis e/mphrones~. (It is from\nthis religio-musical procedure and not from strictly medical\nexperience or practice that Aristotle, taking a hint from Plato,\n_Rp._ 606, derived his idea of the ~ka/tharsis t\u00f4=n path\u00eama/t\u00f4n~ by\nviolent discharge of the emotions and transferred it to\ntragedy--not, as in the explanation to which some have recently\nreturned, by a tranquilization of the emotions in \"a final\nreconciliation\".) This ~ka/tharsis~ and ~iatrei/a~ of the\n~korubanti\u00f4=ntes~ is the object of the initiation ceremony of the\nKorybantes (whose true ~ba/kchoi~ are the ~korubanti\u00f4=ntes~, i.e.\nthe worshippers who are in need of and capable of cure; of the\n~Koruba/nt\u00f4n must\u00ea/ria~ which are held ~epi\\ katharm\u00f4=| t\u00ea=s\nmani/as~ (Sch. Ar., _V._ 119-20, ~ekoruba/ntize~); cf. the ~telet\u00ea\\\nt\u00f4=n Koruba/nt\u00f4n~ (Pl., _Euthd._ 277 D, including ~_thro/n\u00f4sis_~: D.\nChr. 12, p. 388 R., \u00a7 33 Arn.; Lob., _Agl._ 116, 369. There is a\nparody of ~thro/n\u00f4sis~ in the initiation scene of Ar., _Nub._ 254,\nwhere Streps. sits ~epi\\ to\\n hiero\\n ski/mpoda. tethronisme/nos\ntoi=s theoi=s~ = initiated {308} in _P. Mag. Lond._ 747 f. = Kenyon,\n_Greek Papyri in B.M._ i, p. 108); and cf. the ~m\u00eatr\u00f4=|a kai\\\nkorubantika\\ te/l\u00ea~: D.H., _Dem._ 22. At the initiation ceremony\n(~korubantismo/s; ka/tharsis mani/as~ Hsch.) held in the\n~Korubantei=on~ (Hdn. Gr. 1, 375, 15 Lentz; _App. Prov._ ii, 23) the\nfamous music of \"inspiration\" was played; there was also ~chorei/a~\n(Pl. _Euthd._), ~\u00ea=choi~ e.g. the sound of ~tu/mpana~ (Ar., _Ves._\n120 f.; Luc. _DD._ 12, 1), and also it appears incense-burning:\n~osmai/~, D.H., _Dem._ 22; cf. above, chap. viii, n. 39. All these\nstimulants intensified the pathological tendency of the\n~korubanti\u00f4=ntes~ and gave them relief by the violent discharge of\ntheir emotions.--There is no need to doubt the actual occurrence of\nsuch pathological states and their medical treatment by music, etc.\nIt was clearly the same type of psychopathical malady that invaded\nItaly in the Middle Ages under the name of Tarantism, repeating its\nattacks for several centuries; in this case, too, music (and even\nthe sound of a particular melody) served both to excite and\neventually to cure the violent dance-mania; cf. Hecker 172, 176\nff.--There seems to be a fabulous element in other stories current\nin antiquity about the cure of madness, love-passions, and even\nsciatica by the music of the flute (Pythagoras, Empedokles, Damon,\nThphr. _fr._ 87). Such belief in the curative powers of music, esp.\nof the flute, seems to have been derived originally from actual\nexperience of the ~katha/rseis~ practised in Korybantic festivals,\nand then to have been exaggerated into a fable. Even doctors had no\ndoubt that ~mani/a~ was curable by the _cantiones tibiarum_; see\nCael. Aur., _Morb. Chr._ i, 5, 175, 178 (Asklepiades); Cael. Aur.\n(i.e. Soranos), ib. 176, however, denies it. It depended entirely\nupon the theory, originally derived from ~korubantismo/s~, of cure\nby intensification and discharge of the emotional state.]\n\n[20\\9: ~\u00f4= ma/kar ho/stis . . . thiaseu/etai psucha/n, en o/ressi\nbakcheu/\u00f4n, hosi/ois _katharmoi=sin_~, E., _Ba._ 72 ff.--dicunt\nsacra Liberi ad purgationem animae pertinere Serv. on Vg., _G._ ii,\n389; cf. also on _A._ vi, 741.]\n\n[21\\9: ~Dio/nusos _lu/sios_~ (like ~D. meili/chios eleuthereu/s~ and\n~sa\u00f4/t\u00eas~) is rightly taken as the \"freer from orgiastic frenzy\"\n(and not in the ordinary political sense) by Klausen, _Orpheus_, p.\n26 [Ersch-Gruber] and Voigt in Roscher's _Lex._ i, 1062. That this\nis the proper meaning of ~lu/sios~ is shown by its being contrasted\nwith ~bakchei=os~, which by common consent means the god ~ho\\s\nmai/nesthai ena/gei anthr\u00f4/pous~ (Hdt.); e.g. in Korinth, Paus. 2,\n2, 6; Sikyon, Paus. 2, 7, 5-6. And ~D. bakcheu/s~ and ~meili/chios~\nin Naxos, _Ath._ iii, 78 C.]\n\n[22\\9: In the ~kata/logos gunaik\u00f4=n~ as it seems; _fr._ 54 Rz. But\nperhaps also in the _Melampodia_ (_fr._ 184 Kink.).]\n\n[23\\9: ~ema/n\u00easan, h\u00f4s H\u00easi/odo/s ph\u00easin, ho/ti ta\\s Dionu/sou\nteleta\\s ou katede/chonto~. [Apollod.] 2, 2, 2, 2, and cf. 1, 9, 12,\n8. The same story (only with the name Anaxagoras substituted for\nthat of his grandfather Proitos--doubtless on chronological grounds)\nwith the words ~ta\\s Argei/as gunai=kas manei/sas dia\\ t\u00ea\\n\nDionu/sou m\u00ea=nin~: D.S. 4, 68, 4. (~mani/a~--in the reign of\nAnaxagoras--Paus. 2, 18, 4; Eust., on _B_ 568, p. 288,\n28).--Otherwise, it is generally Hera who sends the ~mani/a~\nAkousil. ap. [Apollod.] 2, 2, 2, 2 [_fr._ 14 Diels]. Pherekyd. ap.\nSch. on ~o~ 225. Probus and Serv. on _Ecl._ vi, 48. This is a later\nversion of the legend depending upon a different interpretation of\nthe \"insanity\".]\n\n[24\\9: [Apollod.] 2, 2, 2. Acc. to Hdt. ix, 34, the treatment of\nMelamp. was applied generally to all the ~Argei=ai gunai=kes~ (who\nacc. to [Apollod.] \u00a7 5, were also attacked by the madness); cf. D.S.\n4, 68, 4. (~. . . ta\\s Argei/as \u00ea\\ h\u00f4/s tines ma=llo/n phasi, ta\\s\nProiti/das~ Eustath. ~kata\\ t\u00ea\\n histori/an~). ~therapeu/ein~ is\nD.S.' word; ~eka/th\u00earen~, Sch. Pi., _N._ ix, 30; _purgavit_ Serv.]\n{309}\n\n[25\\9: ~Mela/mpous paralab\u00f4\\n tou\\s dunat\u00f4ta/tous t\u00f4=n neani\u00f4=n\n_met' alalagmou= kai/ tinos enthe/ou chorei/as_ ek t\u00f4=n or\u00f4=n auta\\s\nes Siku\u00f4=na sunedi/\u00f4xe~ (i.e. the frenzied women who had eventually\nbecome very numerous: \u00a7 5, 6) [Apollod.] 2, 2, 2, 7. The account in\nPl., _Phdr._ 244 D, E, corresponds closely with the proceedings of\nMelampous and perhaps refers to them: ~alla\\ m\u00ea\\n no/s\u00f4n ge kai\\\npo/n\u00f4n t\u00f4=n megi/st\u00f4n, ha\\ d\u00ea\\ palai\u00f4=n ek m\u00eanima/t\u00f4n pothe\\n e/n\ntisi t\u00f4=n gen\u00f4=n h\u00ea mani/a eggenome/n\u00ea kai\\ proph\u00eateu/sasa hoi=s\ne/dei apallag\u00ea\\n heu/reto, kataphugou=sa pro\\s the\u00f4=n eucha/s te\nkai\\ latrei/as, ho/then d\u00ea\\ _katharm\u00f4=n_ te kai\\ telet\u00f4=n tuchou=sa\nexa/nt\u00ea epoi/\u00ease to\\n heaut\u00ea=s e/chonta pro/s te to\\n paro/nta kai\\\nto\\n e/peita chro/non, lu/sin t\u00f4=| orth\u00f4=s _mane/nti kai\\\nkataschome/n\u00f4|_ t\u00f4=n paro/nt\u00f4n kak\u00f4=n heurome/n\u00ea~. This is a\ndescription of the remedial methods used in the Bacchic and\nKorybantic _enthousiasmos_ but applied to special circumstances of\nthe mythical past which are regarded as the standard of all later\nkathartic methods.]\n\n[26\\9: ~katharmoi/~ [Apollod.] \u00a7 8. The regular kathartic materials\nare ~ski/lla, **a/sphaltos~, water, etc.; Diphilus, _fr._ 126 K.,\nemploys them all for his own purpose, ap. Clem. Al., _Str._ vii, p.\n844 P. The black hellebore (~elle/boros me/las~) was popularly known\nas ~melampo/dion~ because Melampous had first gathered and employed\nit for the purpose (Thphr., _HP._ 9, 10, 4), esp. when he cured and\npurified the ~Proi/tou thugate/ras manei/sas~ (Gal., _Atrabile_ 7 =\nv, p. 132 K.; it can only be by mistake that he calls it the white\nhellebore; cf. also Diosc. 4, 149, where the old ~kathart\u00ea/s~\nbecomes ~Mela/mpous tis aipo/los~ [hence Plin., _NH._ 25, 47]; the\nreason may be elicited from Thphr., _HP._ 9, 10, 2). The place where\nthe ~katharmoi/~ took place and where the ~katha/rsia~ were thrown\naway differed acc. to the natural features of the locality and the\nconvenience they offered: thus in Arcadia it was at Lousoi, in Elis\nat the river Anigros, etc.; Ov., _M._ xv, 322 ff.; Vitr. 8, 3, 21;\nPaus. 5, 5, 10; 8, 18, 7-8; cf. Call., _H. Art._ 233 f.; Str. 346,\netc.]\n\n[27\\9: Melampous ~He/ll\u00easin ho ex\u00eag\u00easa/menos tou= Dionu/sou to/ te\nou/noma kai\\ t\u00ea\\n thusi/\u00ean kai\\ t\u00ea\\n pomp\u00ea\\n tou= phallou=~, Hdt.\nii, 49. Hdt.'s elaborate theory in this passage of a connexion\nbetween Mel. and Egypt, etc., is of course historically quite\nworthless, but the fact that he pitched upon Melamp. especially as\nthe introducer of the Dionysiac religion can only have been due to\nthe existence of ancient tradition (i.e. legendary tradition of\ncourse). There can be no doubt that he, like Hesiod, regarded as\n_Dionysiac_ the frenzy in which the Argive women were said\n~man\u00ea=nai~ and to have been healed by Melamp. (ix, 34).]\n\n[28\\9: ~Mela/mpous phi/ltatos \u00f4\\n Apo/ll\u00f4ni~, Hes., _Eoiai_, (168\nRz.) ap. Sch. A.R. i, 118. ~phi/los Apo/ll\u00f4ni~, D.S, 6, 7, 7 Dind.\nThe poet of the family tree of the Melampodidai given in ~o~ 244 ff.\nundoubtedly regarded Melamp. as an Apolline ~ma/ntis~ (like all\n~ma/nteis~ in Homer). This poet at least knows nothing of the\nDionysiac side of Melampous' activities. How Mel. met Apollo on the\nbanks of the Alphaios and from him received his consecration as true\n~ma/ntis~, we learn from [Apollod.] 1, 9, 11, 3. The same is said of\nPolypheides, a descendant of Mel. ~o~ 252: ~auta\\r hupe/rthumon\nPoluphei/dea ma/ntin Apo/ll\u00f4n th\u00ea=ke brot\u00f4=n o/ch' a/riston, epei\\\ntha/nen Amphia/ros~. Another descendant of Melamp., Polyeidos, comes\nto Megara to purify Alkatho\u00f6s from the murder of his son, and founds\nthere a temple of _Dionysos_: Paus. 1, 43, 4.]\n\n[29\\9: See above, chap. iii, n. 32.]\n\n[30\\9: Plu., _Is. et O._ 35, p. 365 A. Sacrifice made by Agamemnon\nto Dionysos ~en muchoi=s Delphini/ou par' a/ntra kerd\u00f4/|ou theou=~,\nLyc. 207 ff.]\n\n[31\\9: Plu., _E ap. D._ ix, p. 388 F. Three winter months were\nsacred to Dionysos (cf. the three chief Dionysiac festivals at\nAthens which {310} occurred in the months Gamelion, Anthesterion,\nElaphebolion). Only during these three months is the god on earth.\nSo, too, Kore shared her rule over the underworld with A\u00efdoneus for\nthree months (or six); the rest of the year she is on earth ~para\\\nm\u00eatri\\ kai\\ a/llois athana/toisi~.]\n\n[32\\9: ~Dionu/s\u00f4| t\u00f4=n Delph\u00f4=n oude\\n h\u00ea=tton \u00ea\\ t\u00f4=| Apo/ll\u00f4ni\nme/testin~, Plu., _E ap. D._ ix, 384 D.]\n\n[33\\9: ~ta\\ de\\ neph\u00f4=n te/ estin an\u00f4te/r\u00f4 ta\\ a/kra (tou=\nParnasou=), kai\\ hai Thuia/des epi\\ tou/tois t\u00f4=| Dionu/s\u00f4| _kai\\\nt\u00f4=| Apo/ll\u00f4ni_ mai/nontai~, Paus. 10, 32, 7. Parnasus gemino petit\naethera colle, mons Phoebo Bromioque sacer, cui numine mixto\nDelphica Thebanae referunt trieterica Bacchae, Luc., v, 72 ff. We\nhear of a Delphos the son of Apollo and Thyia the first priestess\nand Mainad of Dionysos at Delphi: Paus. 10, 6, 4.]\n\n[34\\9: Apollo himself in an oracular command ~Puthia/sin\npentet\u00ea/roisin . . . e/taxe Ba/kchou thusi/an chor\u00f4=n te poll\u00f4=n\nkukli/an a/millan~; so says Philodamos of Skarpheia in the Paian\n(second half fourth century B.C.) _BCH._ 1895, p. 408. We must\nsuppose, too, that this command (i.e. decree of the Delphic\npriesthood) was actually carried out.]\n\n[35\\9: ~Delphoi\\ de\\ dipl\u00ea=| pros\u00eagori/a| tim\u00f4=sin (se/~, i.e.\nApollo), ~Apo/ll\u00f4na kai\\ Dio/nuson le/gontes~, Men. Rhet., p. 446, 5\nSp.]\n\n[36\\9: _Arg._, Sch. Pi., _P._, p. 297, B\u00f6ckh [p. 2, 5 ff. Drch.]: ~.\n. . tou= proph\u00eatikou= tri/podos~ (in Delphi) ~en h\u00f4=| pr\u00f4=tos\nDio/nusos ethemi/steuse~. And again ~. . da/ktulon~ (a part of the\n~no/mos Puthiko/s) apo\\ Dionu/sou, ho/ti pr\u00f4=tos hou=tos dokei= apo\\\ntou= tri/podos themisteu=sai~. As it has been previously said that\nat the Delphic ~mantei=on _pr\u00f4/t\u00ea_ Nu\\x echr\u00easm\u00f4/|d\u00easen~, Dionysos\nseems to be here regarded as ~pro/mantis~ of Nyx. Thus, at Megara\nthere was a temple of ~Dio/nusos Nukte/lios~ in the immediate\nneighbourhood of, and in all probability closely associated with a\n~Nukto\\s mantei=on~: Paus. 1, 40, 6.]\n\n[37\\9: Paus. 1, 2, 5; Ribbeck, _Anf. d. Dionysoscult in Att._, p. 8\n(1869); cf. Dem. 21, 52. Regulation of a festival of Dionysos in\nKolone by the Oracle: Paus. 3, 13, 7; in Alea, Paus. 8, 23, 1 (at\nwhich women were scourged, a substitution for primitive human\nsacrifice, as at the ~diamasti/g\u00f4sis~ in Sparta, of which Paus. is\nreminded). Introduction of the worship of ~Dio/nusos Phall\u00ea/n~ at\nMethymna by the oracle: Paus. 10, 19, 3.--At Magnesia on the\nMaeander a plane-tree split by a storm revealed a statue of Dionysos\n(a true ~Dio/nusos e/ndendros~). The Delphic oracle commanded the\nambassadors sent by the city to build a temple to Dionysos (who had\nhitherto been without one in Magnesia and put a priest in charge of\nit; then, for the institution of the cult they were to introduce\nfrom Thebes Mainads of the family of Ino: ~Maina/das hai\\ gene\u00ea=s\nEinou=s a/po Kadm\u00eaei/\u00eas~. (The cult of Dionysos was evidently\ntraditional at Thebes in this family which traced its descent from\nIno, the foster-mother of Dionysos.) The three Mainads obtained from\nThebes (called Kosko, Baubo, and Thettale instituted the cult of the\ngod and founded three ~thi/asoi~ arranged according to locality\n(there were three ~thi/asoi~ in Thebes, too, E., _Ba._ 680 ff.).\nThey themselves remained in Magnesia till their death and were\nburied with great ceremony by the city, Kosko on the \"Hill of\nKosko\", Baubo ~en Taba/rnei~, Thettale ~pro\\s t\u00f4=| the/atr\u00f4|~. See\nthe ~archai=os chr\u00easmo/s~ with explanatory notes in prose, restored\nby ~Apoll\u00f4/neios Moko/ll\u00eas, archai=os mu/st\u00eas~ (of Dionysos): _Ath.\nMitth._ 15 (1890), p. 331 f.]\n\n[38\\9: See Rapp, _Rhein. Mus._ 27. In spite of his quite correct\nemphasis in general upon the ritual and purely formal character of\nthis sacred embassy and the dance-festival that followed, Rapp makes\nthe mistake of underestimating the ecstatic side of the Dionysiac\nfestivals--a side {311} which was once predominant and was always\nliable to recur. (If this element had not been real there would have\nbeen no need for a symbolical ritualistic imitation of such\n~e/kstasis~). How even in later times a true ekstasis and\nself-forgetfulness seized upon the Thyiades in their sacred\nnight-festivals and in consequence of the numerous stimulating\ninfluences of the occasion, we can learn very clearly from\nPlutarch's description of the Thyiads who wandered in their frenzy\nto Amphissa (_Mul. Virt._ 13, 249 E). Rapp., p. 22, tries in vain to\nupset the historical value of this account. Other points have\nalready been mentioned incidentally.]\n\n[39\\9: ~h\u00ea\\n dia\\ mantosu/n\u00ean t\u00ea\\n hoi= po/re Phoi=bos Apo/ll\u00f4n~ ~A~\n72.]\n\n[40\\9: ~to\\ a/technon kai\\ adi/dakton (t\u00ea=s mantik\u00ea=s) toute/stin\nenu/pnia kai\\ enthousiasmou/s~ [Plu.] _Vit. Poes. Hom._ ii, 212. The\nonly form known to Homer is ~h\u00ea t\u00f4=n _emphro/n\u00f4n_ z\u00ea/t\u00easis tou=\nme/llontos dia/ te orni/th\u00f4n poioume/n\u00ea kai\\ t\u00f4=n a/ll\u00f4n s\u00eamei/\u00f4n~\n(Pl., _Phdr._ 244 C).]\n\n[41\\9: The Ps.-Plutarch of the last note does, however, find in\nTheoklymenos' position among the suitors, ~u~ 345-57 (in any case a\npassage added by a later hand), a proof that he is an ~_e/ntheos_\nma/ntis, e/k tinos epipnoi/as s\u00eamai/n\u00f4n ta\\ me/llonta~. But in that\nstory the abnormal state belongs rather to the suitors than the\nseer. See Lob., _Agl._ 264. Still less can we (with Welcker,\n_G\u00f6tterl._ ii, 11) deduce Homer's knowledge of ecstatic prophecy\nfrom ~A~ 91 ff. or ~\u00ca~ 34-53. The derivation of the word ~ma/ntis~\nfrom ~mai/nesthai~, frequently repeated since the time of Plato,\nwould make the ecstatic element predominant in the idea of the\nprophet. But this derivation is quite uncertain and a connexion with\n~manu/\u00f4~ is much more probable.]\n\n[42\\9: Pytho: ~th~ 80, ~I~ 405. Dodona: ~P~ 234, ~x~ 327 f., ~t~ 296\nf. An oracle is questioned perhaps in ~p~ 402 f. See N\u00e4gelsbach,\n_Hom. Theol._, p. 181 f.]\n\n[43\\9: See Lob., _Agl._ 814 f. (even the regular use of the\nexpressions ~anei=len ho theo/s, h\u00ea puthi/a~ suffice to prove it).\nCf. also Bgk., _Gr. Lit._ i, 334. _h. Hom. Merc._ in its own fashion\n(552-66) tells how the god deserted the \"lot\" oracle at Delphi as\ntoo unreliable and unworthy of the god.]\n\n[44\\9: Even the case of Helenos is no real example of this: ~\u00ca~ 44\n([Plu.] _Vit. Hom._ ii, 212, seems to regard it as one). Cic., _Div._\ni, 89, expressly distinguishes the prophesying of Helenos from the\n\"enthusiastic\" frenzy of Kassandra.]\n\n[45\\9: Even the _h. Hom. Merc._ to the Pythian Apollo, though it\ndescribes the institution of the cult and oracle of Apollo at\nDelphi, nowhere mentions the Pythia (as Lob., _Agl._ 264, very\npertinently remarks). (Acc. to 306 f. we must suppose that at that\ntime the prophesying was done exclusively by male ~ma/nteis~ or\n~proph\u00ea=tai~.)]\n\n[46\\9: See Eur., _IT._ 1234 ff. Oracles of earth-divinities were\nalways given by _Incubation_. Even Cicero (_Div._ i, 38, following\nChrysippos it seems) refers to vis illa terrae, quae mentem Pythiae\ndivino afflatu **concitabat (as something that has disappeared). It\nis often referred to by later authors. The placing of the tripod\nover the chasm from which the vapour of inspiration came, is\ncertainly, with Welcker, _G\u00f6tterl._ ii, 11, to be regarded as a\nreminiscence of the ancient method of the earth-oracle which was\nthus continued in the direct inspiration of Apollo. (The\n~enthousiasmo/s~ does not exclude other stimulants. The Pythia\ndrinks from the inspired spring--like the ~ma/nteis~ at Klaros:\n_Ath. Mitth._ xi, 430--and thereupon becomes ~e/ntheos~: Luc.,\n_Herm._ 60. The prophetess of Apollo Deiradiotes at Argos by\ndrinking the sacrificial blood ~ka/tochos ek tou= theou=\n**gi/netai~: Paus. 2, 24, 1. The Pythia chews the sacred\nlaurel-leaves to become inspired: Luc., _Bis Acc._ 1; also {312} the\n~da/phn\u00ea, h\u00ea=s pote geusa/menos peta/l\u00f4n ane/ph\u00eanen aoida\\s auto\\s\na/nax sk\u00eaptou=chos~: _H. Mag._ ap. Abel, _Orphica_, p. 288. The holy\nplant contains the _vis divina_ which one absorbs into oneself by\nchewing. This is the crude, primitive idea underlying such actions,\nas plainly appears in a similar case mentioned by Porph., _Abs._ ii,\n48.)]\n\n[47\\9: e.g. in Sparta: ~e/stin eponomazo/menon Ga/s\u00eapton hiero\\n\nG\u00ea=s. Apo/ll\u00f4n d' hupe\\r **auto\\ hi/drutai Malea/t\u00eas~, Paus. 3, 12,\n8.--The legend of Apollo and Daphne symbolizes the overthrow of the\nearth-oracle by Apollo and his own kind of prophecy.]\n\n[48\\9: See above, chap. iii, p. 97. Welcker, _G\u00f6tterl._ i, 520 ff.]\n\n[49\\9: See above, p. 260 ff.]\n\n[50\\9: At Amphikleia in Phokis there was an oracle of Dionysos:\n~pro/mantis de\\ ho hiereu/s esti, chra=| de\\ ek tou= theou=\nka/tochos~, Paus. 10, 33, 11. The words of Cornutus probably refer\nto Greece (chap. xxx, p. 59, 20 Lang): ~kai\\ mantei=a e/sth' ho/pou\ntou= Dionu/sou e/chontos . . . ~ cf. Plu., _Smp._ 7, 10, 17, p. 716\nB: ~hoi palaioi\\ to\\n theo\\n~ (Dionysos) ~mantik\u00ea=s poll\u00ea\\n e/chein\nh\u00eagou=nto moi=ran~.]\n\n[51\\9: Dionysos the first giver of oracles at Delphi: Arg., Pi.\n_Pyth._, p. 2, 7 Drch. (see above, n. 36). Voigt ap. Roscher, i,\n1033-4, regards Apollo at Delphi as the heir of the Dionysiac\n_mantik\u00ea_; but he considers Dionysos to have been in the same\ncondition as the Python who was overthrown and killed by Apollo--a\nview that can hardly be justified. My own view is that Apollo, after\ndestroying the chthonic (dream) Oracle adopted from the _mantik\u00ea_ of\nDionysos the prophecy by _furor divinus_ which had been hitherto\nunknown to him.--No one can seriously claim to have a clear certain\ninsight into the intricate and kaleidoscopic changes of power and\nauthority that finally led to the supremacy of the composite\nApolline cult in the violently disputed centre of Greek religion.]\n\n[52\\9: ~. . . ho/sous ex Apo/ll\u00f4nos man\u00ea=nai le/gousi~ (i.e. the\nancient ~chr\u00easmolo/gous~), Paus. 1, 34, 4. ~mani/a tou=\nchr\u00easmolo/gou~, Diogen., _Pr._ 6, 47. So, too, ~epi/pnoia~: Sittl,\n_Geb\u00e4rden der Gr. u. R._ 345. ~ho enthousiasmo\\s epi/pneusi/n tina\nthei/an e/chein dokei=~, Str. 467.--~hoi numpho/l\u00eaptoi kai\\\ntheo/l\u00eaptoi t\u00f4=n anthr\u00f4/p\u00f4n, epipnoi/a| daimoni/ou tino\\s h\u00f4/sper\nenthousia/zontes~, _Eth. Eud._ i, 1, 4, 1214a, 23.]\n\n[53\\9: Ecstatic condition of the Pythia: D.S. xvi, 26; misconstrued\nin a Christian sense, Sch. Ar., _Plu._ 39 (see Hemsterh. ad loc.).\n~ho/l\u00ea gi/gnetai tou= theou=~, Iamb., _Myst._ 3, 11, p. 126, 15\nParthey. Description of a case in which the prophesying Pythia\nbecame completely ~e/kphr\u00f4n~: Plu., _Def. Or._, 51, p. 438 B.]\n\n[54\\9: In the inspired _mantik\u00ea_ the soul becomes \"free\" from the\nbody: animus ita solutus est et vacuus ut eo plane nihil sit cum\ncorpore, Cic., _Div._ i, 113; cf. 70. (~kath' heaut\u00ea\\n gi/gnetai h\u00ea\npsuch\u00ea/~ in dreaming and ~mantei=ai~: Arist. ap. S.E., _M._ 9, 21\n[_fr._ 10 R.]. ~e/oike h\u00ea arch\u00ea\\~ (of ~nou=s) apoluome/nou tou=\nlo/gou **ischu/ei ma=llon~ in _enthousiasmos_, _EE._ 1248a, 40; cf.\n1225A, 28.) This is ~e/kstasis~ of the understanding itself: see\nabove, p. 260 ff. At other times it is said that the god enters into\nmen and fills their souls; whereupon the man is ~e/ntheos~: see\nabove, chap. viii, n. 50; cf. _pleni et mixti deo vates_, Minuc. 7,\n6. The priestess at the oracle of Branchidai ~de/chetai to\\n\ntheo/n~, Iamb., _M._ 3, 11, p. 127, 7 Par.--~exoiki/zetai ho en\nh\u00eami=n nou=s kata\\ t\u00ea\\n tou= thei/ou pneu/matos a/phixin, kata\\ de\\\nt\u00ea\\n metana/stasin autou= pa/lin esoiki/zetai ktl~: Philo, _Q. rer.\ndiv._ 53, i, p. 511 M., speaking of the ~e/ntheos katoch\u00f4tik\u00ea/ te\nmani/a, h\u00ea=| to\\ proph\u00eatiko\\n ge/nos chr\u00ea=tai~ (p. 509 M.); cf. also\n_Spec. Leg._ i, p. 343 M. This also was the idea prevailing at\nDelphi. Plu., _Def. Or._ 9, p. 414 E, rejects as ~eu/\u00eathes, to\\\noi/esthai to\\n theo\\n auto/n, h\u00f4/sper tou\\s eggastrimu/thous, {313}\nenduo/menon eis ta\\ s\u00f4/mata t\u00f4=n proph\u00eat\u00f4=n hupophthe/ggesthai,\ntoi=s ekei/n\u00f4n sto/masi kai\\ ph\u00f4nai=s chr\u00f4/menon orga/nois~. But\nthis was evidently the ordinary and deep-rooted opinion (~to\\n\ntheo\\n eis s\u00f4=ma katheirgnu/nai thn\u00eato/n~, Plu., _Pyth. Or._ 8, p.\n398 A). The primitive idea is naively expressed by a late magic\npapyrus (Kenyon, _Gk. Pap. in BM._ i, p. 116 [1893], No. 122 [fourth\ncentury B.C.] l. 2 ff.): ~elthe/ moi, ku/rie Herm\u00ea= h\u00f4s ta\\ bre/ph\u00ea\neis ta\\s koili/as t\u00f4=n gunaik\u00f4=n ktl.~--Neither in _mantik\u00ea_ nor in\n~e/kstasis~ is any great distinction made between the out-going of\nthe soul and the in-coming of the god: the two ideas merge together.\nThe condition is regarded as one in which two persons are united and\nbecome one; the human being ~hoi=on a/llos geno/menos kai\\ ouk\nauto/s, theo\\s geno/menos ma=llon de\\ \u00f4/n~, no longer experiencing a\nsense of division between himself and divinity ~metaxu\\ ga\\r oude/n,\noud' e/ti du/o all' he/n a/mph\u00f4~ (as the subtle mysticism of\nPlotinos describes ~e/kstasis~, 6, 9, 9-10; 6, 7, 34-5). In the\nabove-mentioned magic invocation of Hermes the ~go/\u00eas~ who has\nconjured the god into himself says to the god (l. 36 ff., p. 117)\n~su\\ (soi~ MSS.) ~ga\\r eg\u00f4\\, kai\\ eg\u00f4\\ su/ (soi~ MSS.) ~; to\\ so\\n\no/noma emo\\n kai\\ to\\ emo\\n so/n; eg\u00f4\\ ga/r eimi to\\ ei/d\u00f4lo/n sou\nktl.~ [Cf. Swinburne, _Songs before Sunrise_ ii, 74 f.]]\n\n[55\\9: So Bergk, _Gr. Lit._ i, 335, n. 58. The verses of the oracle\nare regarded as the god's own: Plu., _Pyth. Or._ v, 396 C ff. Since\nthe god himself speaks out of her the Pythia can properly speaking\nonly give true oracles ~ouk apoda/mou Apo/ll\u00f4nos tucho/ntos~, Pi.,\n_P._ iv, 5; i.e. when Apollo is present at Delphi and not (as he is\nin winter) far away among the Hyperboreans. This was why oracles\nwere originally only given in the spring month _Bysios_ (Plu., _Q.\nGr._ 9) in which apparently the ~theopha/nia~ occurred (Hdt. i, 51).\nJust as in the case of the old oracular earth-spirits (see above,\nchap. iii, n. 12) who were confined to special localities, so in the\ncase of the gods who work through the ~enthousiasmo/s~ of an\ninspired prophetess, their personal presence in the temple at the\ntime of the prophesying is requisite. This presence is thought of as\nactual and corporeal in the primitive form of the belief (though it\nwas got over and reinterpreted in later times), and therefore in the\ncase of the gods can only be temporary. When, in summer, Apollo is\nin Delos (Vg., _A._ iv, 143 ff.), no ~chr\u00east\u00ea/rion~ takes place in\nthe temple of Apollo at Patara in Lykia (Hdt. i, 182). And so in\ngeneral ~phugo/nt\u00f4n \u00ea\\ metasta/nt\u00f4n (t\u00f4=n peri\\ ta\\ mantei=a kai\\\nchr\u00east\u00ea/ria tetagme/n\u00f4n daimoni/\u00f4n) apoba/llei t\u00ea\\n du/namin (ta\\\nmantei=a)~, Plu., _DO._ 15, p. 418 D.]\n\n[56\\9: The cult of Zeus in Crete was held ~met' orgiasmou=~: Str.\n468. The same applies to the cult offered in many places to the\nvarious and very different female deities who were generally\ncombined together under the name of Artemis: Lob., _Agl._ 1085 ff.;\nMeineke, _An. Al._ 361. In their case Asiatic influence was at work\nsometimes, but by no means always: Welcker, _G\u00f6tterl._ i, 391;\nM\u00fcller, _Dorians_, i, 404 ff. The worship of Pan was also orgiastic.\nOtherwise we find it principally in foreign worships that had made\ntheir way at an early period into private cults: e.g. the Phrygian\nworship of Kybele, etc. These easily combined with the Bacchic\nworship and became almost indistinguishable from it; sometimes they\neven allied themselves with true Greek cults, with that of Pan, for\nexample, which was closely assimilated both to the worship of Kybele\nand that of Dionysos. It remains obscure how far the Cretan cult of\nZeus was affected by Phrygian elements.]\n\n[57\\9: A remarkable example is given by Herod. (ix, 94), who tells\nus of the blind Euenios in Apollonia who suddenly became possessed\nof {314} ~e/mphutos mantik\u00ea/~ (not acquired by learning). He is a\ntrue ~theo/mantis~ (Pl., _Ap._ 22 C).]\n\n[58\\9: The ancients knew quite well that ~Ba/kis~ and ~Si/bulla~\nwere really _common nouns_ denoting inspired ~chr\u00easm\u00f4|doi/~: thus\nthe ~Si/bulla~ is the ~par\u00f4numi/a~ of Herophile, Plu., _P. Or._ 14,\np. 401 A, and ~Ba/kis~ an ~epi/theton~ of Peisistratos, Sch. Ar.,\n_Pax_ 1071. The words are clearly used to denote whole classes of\nindividuals by Arist., _Prob._ 954a, 36: ~nos\u00ea/mata manika\\ kai\\\nenthousiastika/~ are liable to attack ~Si/bullai kai\\ Ba/kides kai\\\nhoi e/ntheoi pa/ntes~. And in general when the ancients speak in the\nsingular of \"the Sibyl\" or \"Bakis\", the word is generally meant as a\nclass-name; just as for the most part when ~h\u00ea Puthi/a, h\u00ea\n**Puthia/s~ occurs it is not a particular individual Pythia who is\nmeant but the class-concept of \"the Pythia\" (or some particular\nmember of the class actually functioning at the moment). Hence it is\nby no means certain that Herakleitos, etc., when they speak simply\nof ~h\u00ea Si/bulla~, and Herod. when he says ~Ba/kis~ were of the\nopinion that there was only one Sibyl and one Bakis.--It must be\nadmitted that we do not know the real meaning of these adjectival\nwords themselves, their etymology being quite uncertain. Was the\necstatic character of these prophets already expressed in their\ntitles? ~sibullai/nein~, of course = ~enthe/azein~ (D.S. 4, 66, 7),\nbut the verb is naturally enough derived from the name ~Si/bulla~,\njust as ~baki/zein~ is from ~Ba/kis~, ~erinu/ein~, from ~Erinu/s~\nand not vice versa. Nor can we tell how far the personal names\nattached to certain Sibyls and Bakides have real historical\nsignificance. Sibyl names are Herophile, Demophile (abbreviated to\nDemo, ~Phut\u00f4/~ or perhaps rather ~Phoit\u00f4/~; cf. ~phoita\\s\nagu/rtria~, A., _Ag._ 1273 (so Lachmann on Tib. 2, 5, 68): the\nArcadian Bakis was called Kydas or Aletes (cf. ~Phoit\u00f4/~) acc. to\nPhiletas Eph. ap. Sch. Ar., _Pa._ 1071. It is impossible to extract\nfrom the by no means scanty materials any real element of historical\nfact with respect to these stories of individual Sibyls. Most\nuntrustworthy of all in this as in all he says on this subject is\nHerakleides Pont. and his story of the Phrygian (or Trojan) Sibyl:\nwe might be more inclined to believe what Eratosthenes reported acc.\nto the _antiquis annalibus Samiorum_ of a Samian Sibyl (Varro ap.\nLactant., _Inst._ 1, 6, 9)--if it had not included so entirely\nworthless a story as that preserved in Val. M. 1, 5, 9.--Clem. Al.,\n_Str._ i, 21, p. 398 P., gives after Bakis a whole list of\n~chr\u00easm\u00f4|doi/~ with names: they evidently do not all belong to\nlegend, but hardly one of them is otherwise known to us. The\nfollowing are possibly real persons belonging to the prophetic\nperiod: Melesagoras of Eleusis who prophesied in Athens like another\nBakis ~ek numph\u00f4=n ka/tochos~: Max. Tyr. 38, 3 (there is not a\nshadow of a reason for identifying him with Amelesagoras, the author\nof an alleged ancient Atthis: M\u00fcller, _FHG._ ii, 21); Euklos of\nCyprus whose ~chr\u00easmoi/~ written in the old Cypriote language\ninspire a certain confidence (M. Schmidt, _Kuhns Ztschr._ 1860, p.\n161 ff.): unfortunately he wrote before Homer: Paus. 10, 24, 3;\nTat., _Gr._ 41, which makes his personality dubious again.]\n\n[59\\9: Of this description were the ~chr\u00easmolo/goi~ of the fifth and\nfourth--even of the expiring sixth--centuries (Onomakritos belongs\nentirely to this class). Lob., _Agl._ 978 ff., 932. It is very\nrarely that we hear in these times of real prophets on their own\naccount, prophesying in the _furor divinus_, like that Amphilytos of\nAcarnania who met Peisistratos as he returned from Eretria before\nthe battle ~epi\\ Pall\u00eani/di~ and prophesied to him ~enthea/z\u00f4n~\n(Hdt. i, 62 f.; he is an Athenian in [Pl.] _Thg._ 124 D--where he is\nmentioned side by side with ~Ba/kis te {315} kai\\ Si/bulla~--and in\nClem. Al., _Str._ i, 21, p. 398 P.). In the same way occasional\n\"Sibyls\" occur even in late times (Phaennis, Athenais: see\nAlexandre, _Or. Sib._^1 ii, p. 21, 48).]\n\n[60\\9: Herakl. Pont. ap. Cl. Al., _Str._ i, 21, p. 384 P., seems to\nhave been the first to speak definitely of _two_ Sibyls, Herophile\nof Erythrai and the Phrygian Sibyl (whom he identifies with the\nMarpessian Sibyl or the S. of Gergis: Lact. 1, 6, 12, see Alexandre,\nii, p. 25, 32. Philetas ap. Sch. Ar., _Av._ 962, follows him except\nthat he adds a third, the Sardian). The Phrygian-Trojan Sibyl is\ndated by Herakleides in the times of \"Solon and Cyrus\" (Lact.); we\ncannot tell what date he assigned to the Erythraean. Perhaps it was\nonly after his times that the ~chr\u00easmoi/~ of Herophile first\nappeared in which she prophesied the ~Tr\u00f4\u00efka/~. From these verses it\nwas now deduced that she lived before the Trojan war: so Paus. 10,\n12, 2, and even Apollodoros of Erythrai (Lact. 1, 6, 9).\nThenceforward the name of Herophile was associated with the idea of\nextreme antiquity. (The Libyan Sibyl of Paus. who is said to be the\noldest of all is merely an invention of Euripides and never really\nobtained currency: ~Li/bussa = Si/bulla~ anagrammatically. See\nAlexandre, p. 74 f.) Herophile was identified also with the ~pr\u00f4/t\u00ea\nSi/bulla~ who came to Delphi and prophesied there: Plu., _P.Or._ 9,\n398 C; expressly so by Paus. 10, 12, 1, and Bocchus ap. Solin. 2, p.\n38, 21-4 Mom. Acc. to Herakleides (ap. Clem. Al.) it was rather the\n~Phrugi/a~ who calling herself Artemis prophesied in Delphi (so,\ntoo, Philetas following Herakl. and see also Suid. ~Sib. Delphi/s~).\nThis is due to the local patriotism of the inhabitants of the Troad.\nTheir Sibyl is the Marpessian (= the ~Phrugi/a~ of Herakl.). The\nartificial sort of interpretation and forgery that enabled a local\nhistorian of the Troad (it cannot have been Demetrios of Skepsis) to\nidentify the Marpessian Sibyl, who also called herself Artemis, with\nHerophile and turn her into the true ~eruthrai/a~, may be guessed\nfrom Paus. 10, 12, 2 ff. (The same source as that of Paus. is used\nby St. Byz. s. ~Merm\u00easso/s~, as Alexandre, p. 22, rightly remarks.)\nThe Erythraean claim to Herophile was also disputed from other\ndirections. The Erythraean is distinguished from Herophile as being\nlater by Bocchus ap. Solin. 2, p. 38, 24; and in a different fashion\nthe same is done by Mart. Cap. ii, 159. Acc. to Eus., _Chr._ 1305\nAbr. (not Eratosthenes in this case) even the Samian Sibyl was\nidentified with Herophile--to say nothing of the Ephesian Herophile\nin the fragg. of the enlarged Xanthos, _FHG._ iii, 406-8. From the\nfable of the Marpessian Herophile was later invented the story of\nher prophecy to Aeneas: Tib. 2, 5, 67; D.H. 1, 55, 4; Alexandre, p.\n25.--In comparison with these different claimants to the name of\nHerophile (even the Cumaean Sibyl was said to be the same as\nHerophile) the rest of the Sibyls were hardly able to obtain a real\nfooting in tradition.]\n\n[61\\9: The Erythraean Sibyl was dated by Eusebius in Ol. 9, 3 (the\nabsurd addition ~en Aigu/pt\u00f4|~ belongs only to the author of the\n_Chron. Pasc._ and not to Eus.: Alexandre, p. 80); he dated the\nSamian in Ol. 17, 1 (it is quite arbitrary to refer this view to\nEratosthenes). Acc. to Suid. ~Si/bulla Apo/ll\u00f4nos kai\\ Lami/as~ the\nErythraean lived 483 years after the fall of Troy: i.e. Ol. 20, 1\n(700 B.C.). Herakleides put the Phrygo-Trojan Sib. in the times of\nSolon and Kyros (to which Epimenides also belongs and to which\nAristeas and Abaris were supposed to belong). We can no longer\ndiscover or guess at the reasons for these datings. In any case the\nChronologists to whom they go back evidently regarded the Sibyls as\nlater than the earliest Pythia at Delphi. Even the Cumaean Sibyl was\nnot to be distinguished {316} from the Erythraean: [Arist.] _Mirab._\n95, which perhaps comes from Timaeus; Varro ap. Serv. _A._ vi, 36;\ncf. D.H. 4, 62, 6. In spite of which she is a contemporary of\nTarquinius Priscus (this was enough to distinguish the _Cimmeria in\nItalia_ who prophesied to Aeneas from the Cumaean Sibyl: Naev. and\nCalp. Piso in Varro ap. Lact. 1, 6, 9). Naturally in these\nchronological straits recourse was had to the favourite device of\nsuch accounts--unnatural longevity. The Sibyl is ~poluchroni\u00f4ta/t\u00ea~\n[Arist.]: she lived a thousand years or thereabouts: Phleg., _Macr._\n4 (the oracle of this passage was also known to Plu.; cf. _PO._ 13,\n401 B; a similar source inspires Ov., _M._ xiv, 132-53. In this case\nthe Sibyl has already lived 700 years before the arrival of Aeneas,\nand she will live another 300, which would bring her--by a rather\ninexact calculation--to about the time of Tarquinius Priscus). In\nthe verses found at Erythrae belonging to a statue of the Sibyl\n(Buresch, _Woch. Klass. Phil._ 1891, p. 1042; _Ath. Mitt._ 1892, p.\n20), the Erythraean Sibyl is said to live 900 years--unfortunately\none cannot be sure that this means till the time of the inscr.\nitself and of the ~ne/os kti/st\u00eas~ of Erythrai in the age of the\nAntonines who is referred to at the close. If so the Sibyl would\nhave been born about the year 700 B.C. (as in Suid.) or a little\nearlier. Perhaps, however, the lengthy period refers to the life\ntime of the long since dead Sibyl herself, while the ~au=this d'\nentha/de eg\u00f4\\ h\u00ea=mai~ of l. 11 f. only applies to the statue. In\nwhich case the commencement and end of the Sibyl's lifetime would be\nunknown.--_Cumaeae saecula vatis_ became proverbial: Alexandre, p.\n57. Finally the Sibyl was regarded as entirely forgotten by death,\nas in the story in Petronius 48 (cf. also--probably referring to\nErythrai--Ampel., _LM._ viii, 15; _Rh. Mus._ 32, 639).]\n\n[62\\9: ~r~ 383 ff.]\n\n[63\\9: The Sibyl is overcome by the _furor divinus_ in such a way ut\nquae sapiens non videat ea videat insanus, et si qui humanos sensus\namiserit divinos assecutus sit, Cic., _Div._ ii, 110; cf. i, 34.\n~nos\u00ea/mata manika\\ kai\\ enthousiastika/~ of Sibyls and Bakids Arist.\n_Prob._ 30, 1, 954a, 36. The Sibyl prophesies ~mantik\u00ea=| chr\u00f4me/n\u00ea\nenthe/\u00f4|~, Pl., _Phdr._ 244 B. ~mainome/n\u00ea te kai\\ ek tou= theou=\nka/tochos~, Paus. 10, 12, 2. deo furibunda recepto, Ov., _M._ xiv,\n107. There is in her divinitas et quaedam caelitum societas, Plin.,\n_NH._ vii, 119. ~katoch\u00ea\\ kai\\ epi/pnoia~ [Just.], _Co. ad. Gr._,\n37, 36 A. So, too, in our collections of Sibylline oracles the S.\noften speak of their divine frenzy, etc.; e.g. ii, 4, 5; iii, 162\nf., 295 f.; xi, 317, 320, 323 f.; xii, 294 f., etc. Frenzy of the\nCumaean S.: Vg., _A._ vi, 77 f.--Bakis has his prophetic gift from\nthe Nymphs (Ar., _Pa._ 1071), he is ~kata/schetos ek numph\u00f4=n,\nmanei\\s ek numph\u00f4=n~ (Paus. 10, 12, 11; 4, 27, 4), ~numpho/l\u00eaptos~\n(cf. ~theo/l\u00eaptos, phoibo/l\u00eaptos, pano/l\u00eaptos, m\u00eatro/l\u00eaptos~;\n_Lymphati_: Varro, _LL._ vii, p. 365 Sp., Paul. Fest., p. 120, 11\nff., Placid., p. 62, 15 ff. Deuerl.).]\n\n[64\\9: ~Si/bulla de\\ mainome/n\u00f4| sto/mati ktl.~: Herakleitos ap.\nPlu., _Pyth. Or._ 6, p. 397 A. _fr._ 12 By. = 92 Diels (the words\n~chili/\u00f4n . . . theou=~ are not H.'s but Plutarch's. Cl. Al., _Str._\n1, 15, p. 358 P. uses only Plu.). To regard Herakleitos' Sibyl as\nthe Pythia (with Bgk., etc.) is absurd apart from the fact that the\nPythia is never called ~Si/bulla~. It is excluded by the way Plu.\nintroduces the word in this passage, and connects chap. 9 with chap.\n6. It is true, though, that Pl. draws a _parallel_ between the\nnature of the Sibyl and that of the Pythia.]\n\n[65\\9: Homer knows Kassandra as one of the daughters of Priam and\nindeed as ~Pria/moio thugatr\u00f4=n ei=dos ari/st\u00ean~, ~N~ 365; probably\nthat it why she is allotted to Agamemnon as his share of the spoil\nand why she is slain with him, ~l~ 421 ff. The ~Ku/pria~ is the\nfirst to tell of her {317} prophetic skill. Was it the narrative of\n~\u00d4~ 699 which first suggested to the ~ne\u00f4/teroi~ the idea of her\nknowledge of the future? (In reality that passage alludes rather to\nthe ~sumpa/theia~ of the sister and daughter and not to _mantik\u00ea_:\nSch. B. ad loc.) Her prophetic gifts were elaborated later in many\nstories: e.g. Bacchyl. xiv, 50 = _fr._ 29 Bgk. (Porph. on Hor. _O._\ni, 15). Aesch. represents her as the type of the ecstatic prophetess\n(~phrenoman\u00ea/s, theopho/r\u00eatos~, _Ag._ 1140, 1216). As such she is\ncalled by Eur. ~mantipo/los ba/kch\u00ea~, _Hec._ 121. ~phoiba/s~ 827.\n~to\\ bakchei=on ka/ra t\u00ea=s thespi\u00f4|dou= Kassa/ndras~ 676. She wildly\nshakes her head like the Bacchants ~ho/tan theou= manto/sunoi\npneu/s\u00f4s' ana/gkai~, _IA._ 760 ff.]\n\n[66\\9: About the Arcadian Bakis (Kydas or Aletes by name)\n~_Theo/pompos_ en t\u00ea=| th' t\u00f4=n Philippik\u00f4=n a/lla te polla\\\nhistorei= para/doxa kai\\ ho/ti pote\\ t\u00f4=n Lakedaimoni/\u00f4n ta\\s\ngunai=kas manei/sas eka/th\u00earen, Apo/ll\u00f4nos tou/tois tou/ton\nkathart\u00ea\\n do/ntos~, Sch. Ar., _Pa._ 1071. The story is closely\nparallel to that of Melampous and the Proitides, see above, nn.\n22-5.]\n\n[67\\9: Cf. e.g. Hippocr. ~p. partheni/\u00f4n~ (ii, p. 528 K.; viii, 468\nL.). Upon their recovery from hysterical hallucinations the women\ndedicate valuable ~hima/tia~ to Artemis ~keleuo/nt\u00f4n t\u00f4=n\n_ma/nte\u00f4n_~. This is the regular name for the ~ma/goi, kathartai/,\nagu/rtai~ (cf. Teiresias ~do/lios agu/rt\u00eas~, S., _OT._ 388;\nKassandra is accused of being ~phoita\\s agu/rtria~, A., _Ag._ 1273).\nHp. speaks elsewhere also of their manner of healing epilepsy, i, p.\n588 K. (vi, 354 L.).]\n\n[68\\9: ~katharmoi\\ . . . _kata\\ t\u00ea\\n mantik\u00ea/n_~, Pl., _Crat._ 405\nAB. The _~ma/nteis~_ are able e.g. to drive away by magic the mist\nthat is so dangerous for the olive-trees: Thphr., _CP._ 2, 7, 5. The\n~_ma/nteis_ kai\\ teratosko/poi, hagu/rtai kai\\ _ma/nteis_~ possess\nthe arts of ~magganeu/mata, ep\u00f4|dai/, katade/seis~ and ~epag\u00f4gai/~\nwhich compel the gods to do their will, Pl., _Rp._ 364 BC; _Lg._ 933\nCE. These ~ma/nteis~ correspond in all essentials to the magicians\nand medicine men of savage tribes. Prophet, doctor, and magician are\nhere united in a single person. A mythical prototype of these Greek\n\"medicine men\" is Apis, of whom we hear in Aesch., _Sup._ 260-70.\n(The ~ma/nteis~ also officiate as sacrificial priests, esp. where\nthe sacrifice is combined with a special sacrificial\n_mantik\u00ea_--quite unknown to Homer--in which the will of the gods is\ninquired: Eur., _Hcld._ 401**, 819; _Ph._ 1255 ff. and frequently.\nHermann _Gottesdienstl. Alterth._ 33, 9.)]\n\n[69\\9: The clearest evidence for this is Hp., _Morb. Sacr._ (vi, 352\nL.). See below, n. 81. Assistance in the case of internal diseases\nis naturally sought in ancient times from magicians, for such\ndiseases arise immediately from the action of a god: ~stugero\\s de/\nhoi e/chrae dai/m\u00f4n~, ~e~ 396 (cf. ~k~, 64), is said of an invalid\nwho lies ~d\u00earo\\n t\u00eako/menos~. Cf. ~nou=sos Dio\\s mega/lou~, ~i~ 411.\nIn such cases help is sought from the ~iatro/mantis~ (A., _Sup._\n263) who is at once ~ma/ntis~ and ~teratosko/pos~ and ~kathart\u00ea/s~\nlike his divine prototype Apollo: A., _Eum._ 62-3. In a long illness\nKing Kleomenes I of Sparta resorts to ~kathartai\\ kai\\ ma/nteis~,\nPlu., _Ap. Lac._ 11, p. 223 E.]\n\n[70\\9: ~A~ 313 f.; ~ch~ 481 ff. Kathartic practices, however much\nthey may contain a primitive core, were fairly late in attaining\npopularity in Greece (or in regaining a lost popularity): as is\nshown esp. by the all but total absence of any mention of such\npractices and the superstitions underlying them from Hesiod, _Op._,\nwhich otherwise preserves the memory of so much countryside\nsuperstition (something rather like it is perhaps to be found in\n_Op._ 733-6).]\n\n[71\\9: Nothing is said in Homer of the purification of the murderer\nor the homicide: see above, chap. v, n. 166.]\n\n[72\\9: Thus at the ~amphidro/mia~ all who have had anything to do\nwith {318} the ~mai/\u00f4sis, apokathai/rontai ta\\s chei=ras~ (Suid.\ns.v.). But even the child is lustrated: it is carried in the arms of\na grown-up who runs with it round the altar and the altar fire:\nclearly a vestige of the ~apotropiasmo\\s kai\\ ka/tharsis~ of the\nchild by sacred fire of which so many relics have been observed: see\nGrimm, p. 625; Tylor, ii, 430 f.--Uncleanness of the pregnant woman\nuntil the fortieth day after the child is born: Welcker, _Kl. Schr._\niii, 197-9. At the birth of a child crowns of olive-branches or\nwoollen fillets (~e/ria~) were in Attica hung up on the house-door;\njust as cypress-branches were hung on the doors of houses where a\ncorpse lay (see above, chap. v, n. 39): for kathartic purposes\nstrings of onions (squills) were suspended on house-doors; see\nbelow): Hsch. ~ste/phanon ekphe/rein~. Both are lustral materials.\nUse of olive branches at ~katharmo/s~: S., _OC._ 483 f.; Vg., _A._\n230. When a mother gives her child that is to be exposed a crown\nmade of olive branches (as in Eur., _Ion_, 1433 ff.), this, too, has\nan apotropaic purpose as also has the Gorgon's head on the\nembroidered stuff that also accompanies the child (l. 1420 f.): see\non this O. Jahn, _B\u00f6s. Blick_, 60. The olive is also sacred to the\n~chtho/nioi~ (hence its use as a bed for corpses: see above, chap.\nv, n. 61; cf. ~toi=s apothanou=sin elaa=s sunekphe/rousin~: Artemid.\niv, 57, p. 236, 20 H. ~koti/n\u00f4| kai\\ taini/a|~ the goddess crowns\nChios in his dream and points the man thus dedicated to death to his\n~mn\u00ea=ma~: Chio, _Epist._ 17, 2). This makes the olive suitable for\nlustration and ~apotropiasmoi/~. The house in which the child lay\nwas thus regarded as needing \"purification\". The \"uncleanness\" felt\nto exist in this case is clearly expressed by Phot. ~rha/mnos;\nami/antos h\u00ea pi/tta; dio\\ kai\\ en tai=s gene/sesi t\u00f4=n paidi/\u00f4n\n(tau/t\u00ea|) chri/ousi ta\\s oiki/as, _eis ape/lasin daimo/n\u00f4n_~ (see\nabove, chap. v, n. 95). It is the neighbourhood of these (chthonic)\n~dai/mones~ that cause the pollution.]\n\n[73\\9: A., _Pers._ 201 ff., 216 ff.; Ar., _Ra._ 1340; Hp., _Insom._\n(ii, p. 10, 13 K. = vi, p. 654 L.); cf. Becker, _Charicles_, p. 133,\nn. 4 E.T.]\n\n[74\\9: Cf. Plu., _Sept. Sap. Conv._ iii, p. 149 D, and on this\nWyttenb. vi, p. 930 f.]\n\n[75\\9: Purification of houses (~ch~ 481 ff.); e.g. [D.] 47, 71. It\nwas customary to purify ~oiki/as kai\\ pro/bata~ with black\nhellebore: Thphr., _HP._ 9, 10, 4; Dsc. 4, 149 (hence the\nsuperstitious details of its gathering, Thphr., _HP._ 9, 8, 8, and\nDsc.). The touching of the house by unholy daimones necessitates\npurification: Thphr., _Ch._ 28 (16), 15, of the ~deisidai/m\u00f4n; kai\\\npukna\\ de\\ t\u00ea\\n oiki/an katha=rai deino\\s Heka/t\u00eas pha/sk\u00f4n\nepag\u00f4g\u00ea\\n gegone/nai~.]\n\n[76\\9: Presence of a dead body in a house makes the water and fire\nunclean; \"clean\" water and fire must then be brought in from\nelsewhere. See Plu., _QG._ 24 (Argos), p. 297 A (see above, chap. v,\nn. 38). At a festival of the dead in Lemnos all the fires were put\nout (as unclean); \"clean\" fire was sought from Delos, and, after the\ncompletion of the ~enagi/smata~ brought into the country and\ndistributed. Philostr., _H._ 19, 14, p. 206-8, 7 K.--Alexander was\nfollowing Greek, as well as Persian, customs when at the burial of\nHephaistion he allowed ~to\\ para\\ toi=s Pe/rsais kalou/menon hiero\\n\npu=r~ to go out, ~me/chri a\\n tele/s\u00ea| t\u00ea\\n ekphora/n~, D.S. 17,\n114, 4.]\n\n[77\\9: \"When a Greek saw anyone using expiatory rites, he presumed\nin that person the will to amend,\" N\u00e4gelsbach, _Nachhom. Theol._,\n363. If this was really so it is strange that we never see this\n\"presumption\" expressed in words. We do indeed read that the\n~deisidai/m\u00f4n~ mortifies himself and ~exagoreu/ei tina\\s _hamarti/as\nhautou=_ kai\\ pl\u00eammelei/as~, but in what do these ~hamarti/ai~\nconsist?--~h\u00f4s to/de phago/ntos \u00ea\\ pio/ntos \u00ea\\ badi/santos {319}\nhodo\\n h\u00ea\\n ouk ei/a to\\ daimo/nion~, Plu., _Superstit._ 7, p. 168\nD: merely ritual omissions in fact, not moral transgressions at all.\nIt is the same everywhere in this domain. The conceptions underlying\npurificatory practice certainly did not correspond to the refined\nmorality of later ages, but they continued in force so long as\n_kathartik\u00ea_ remained popular: they are well expressed (though\ndisapprovingly) by Ovid in the well-known lines which we shall,\nhowever, do well to recall: omne nefas omnemque mali purgamina\ncausam credebant nostri tollere posse senes. Graecia principium\nmoris fuit: illa nocentis impia lustratos ponere facta putat.--a!\nnimium faciles, qui tristia crimina caedis fluminea tolli posse\nputetis aqua, _F._ 2, 35 ff.; cf. Hp. i, p. 593 K., vi, 362 L.]\n\n[78\\9: We can only here allude to the remarkable parallel provided\nby the purificatory and expiatory ritual of India, which is\ncompletely analogous to the _kathartik\u00ea_ of Greece and had a similar\norigin. Even in details Indian conceptions and procedure answer\nclosely to Greek. They are both as far removed as possible from all\nidea of quieting a guilt-laden conscience and are directed solely\ntowards effacing, expunging, or expelling an external ~mi/asma~, a\npollution arriving from without, a taint arising from contact with a\nhostile ~daimo/nion~ conceived as something in the nature of a\ndaimonic fluid. Indian sources are on this point very rich and full:\nan excellent account of them is given by Oldenberg in his _Religion\ndes Veda_ (esp. Fr. tr. 243 ff.; 417 ff.). Greek and Indian\npractices illuminate each other. It would be a valuable experiment\nto take the highly elaborated kathartic ritual of the Avesta and\ncompare it with the history and technique of purification and\nexpiation in Greek religion. It would mean renewing Lomeier's old\nbook [_Epimenides s. de lustrat._ Zutphen 1700]: the materials are\nvery scattered and the ground has never been thoroughly gone over\nsince then. By the help also of the \"comparative\" method of\nreligious study, which in this case is quite justified, it would\nthen be possible to reconstruct a most important fragment of\nprimitive _religio_--a fragment which had become almost entirely\nforgotten in Homeric times, which then recovered its ancient\ninfluence and continued to develop and was even transmitted to the\nritual of the Christian church (cf. Anrich, _D. ant. Mysterienw._\n190 f.). We must be careful, however, to shut our ears to the\notherwise very convincing people who are so anxious to introduce\npurely _moral_ interests and conceptions into ancient _religio_.\nMorality is a later achievement in the life-history of the children\nof men: this fruit did not grow in Eden.]\n\n[79\\9: See Appendix v.]\n\n[80\\9: What the Greeks meant by ~mi/asma~ can be very clearly seen,\ne.g. in the conversation between Phaidra and her nurse in Eur. _Hp._\n316 ff. Phaidra's distress of mind is not derived from a deed of\nblood: ~chei=res me\\n hagnai/~ she says ~phr\u00ea\\n d' e/chei mi/asma/\nti~. Does the Nurse think of any _moral_ disgrace or defilement of\nthe distressed woman in this ~phreno\\s mi/asma~? Not at all: she\nonly asks, ~m\u00f4=n ex epaktou= p\u00eamon\u00ea=s echthr\u00f4=n tinos?~ in other\nwords by \"defilement of the mind\" she can only conceive of an\nenchantment, something from without that comes, by ~epag\u00f4g\u00ea\\ tin\u00f4=n\ndaimoni/\u00f4n~ (see below, n. 108), a stain derived from the polluting\nneighbourhood of such daimones. This was the general and popular\nconception. (Taken literally Plato's words also give expression to\nthe popular conception: ~poll\u00f4=n o/nt\u00f4n kai\\ kal\u00f4=n en t\u00f4=| t\u00f4=n\nanthr\u00f4/p\u00f4n bi/\u00f4|, toi=s plei/stois aut\u00f4=n hoi=on _k\u00ea=res_\nepipephu/kasin, hai\\ katamiai/nousi/ te kai\\ katarrupai/nousin\nauta\\~, _Lg._ 937 D.)] {320}\n\n[81\\9: Diseases come ~palai\u00f4=n ek m\u00eanima/t\u00f4n~, Pl., _Phdr._ 244 DE;\ni.e. from the rage of departed generations of souls or of\n~chtho/nioi~, Lob., _Agl._ 635-7. Esp. madness is a ~nosei=n ex\nalasto/r\u00f4n~, S., _Tr._ 1325, a ~ta/ragma tarta/reion~, E., _HF._ 89.\nCure of such diseases is undertaken not by doctors but by\n~kathartai/, ma/goi kai\\ agu/rtai~, expiatory priests with magic\nproceedings--this is well shown by the treatment of the \"sacred\ndisease\" in Hp., _Morb. Sac._, p. 587-94 K = vi, 352-64 L. Such\npeople, introducing themselves as magicians in the strict sense (p.\n358 L.), use no regular medicinal treatment (356), but operate\npartly with ~katharmoi/~ and ~ep\u00f4|dai/~, partly with various\nprescriptions of abstinence ~hagnei=ai kai\\ katharo/t\u00eates~. These\nlast are explained by Hp. on dietetic grounds but the _Kathartai_\nthemselves derived them from ~to\\ thei=on kai\\ to\\ daimo/nion~\n(358). And such they were evidently in intention. The account of\nsuch prescriptions given on pp. 354-6 mostly refers to abstentions\nfrom plants and animals supposed to be sacred to the underworld.\nNoticeable also: ~hima/tion me/lan m\u00ea\\ e/chein, _thanat\u00f4=des_ ga\\r\nto\\ me/lan~ (all trees with black berries or fruit belong to the\n_inferi_: Macr. 3, 20, 3). Other superstitions are found with these:\n~m\u00eade\\ po/da epi\\ podi\\ e/chein, m\u00eade\\ chei=ra epi\\ cheiri/; tau=ta\nga\\r pa/nta _k\u00f4lu/mata_ ei=nai~. The belief is familiar from the\nstory of the birth of Herakles. See Welcker, _Kl. Schr._ iii, 191.\nSittl, _Geb\u00e4rden_ 126. (Something of the kind in _P. Mag. Par._ 1052\nff., p. 71 Wess.) The source of the disease was, however, always\nsupposed to be the direct influence of a ~dai/m\u00f4n~ (360-2) which\nmust therefore be averted. Acc. to popular belief it is always God\nwho ~to\\ anthr\u00f4/pou s\u00f4=ma miai/nei~ (cf. p. 362). For this reason\nthe magicians purify, ~kathai/rousi~, the sick ~hai/masi kai\\\ntoi=sin a/lloisi~ which are used to purify people ~mi/asma/ ti\ne/chontas~ or on whom a curse has been laid. The ~katha/rsia~ are\nburied or thrown into the sea (~kai\\ eis ha/la lu/mat' e/ballon~,\n_A_ 314), or carried away into a deserted mountain district (p.\n362). Such ~katha/rsia~ are now the resting place of the ~mi/asma~\nthat has been washed off, and so the magician drives ~eis ore/\u00f4n\nkephala\\s nou/sous te kai\\ a/lg\u00ea~, Orph. _H._ 36, 16. Similarly in\nIndia, Oldenberg 495.]\n\n[82\\9: _Ep\u00f4dai_ used for stopping the flow of blood, ~t~ 457.\nFrequently mentioned in later times: particularly used in the magic\ncure of epilepsy, Hp. vi, 352-4; [D.] 25, \u00a7\u00a7 79-80. When houses and\nhearths are purified by being sprinkled with hellebore\n~sunepa/|dousi/ tina ep\u00f4|d\u00ea/n~, Thphr. _HP._ 9, 10, 4\n(_comprecationem solemnem_ is Pliny's trans., _NH._ 25, 49). Pains\nof childbirth prevented or alleviated by _ep\u00f4dai_, Pl., _Tht._ 149\nCD. (Much more of the kind in Welcker, _Kl. S._ iii, 64 ff.) The\nessential meaning of such _ep\u00f4dai_ is regularly an appeal or\nexorcism addressed to the daimonic creature (clearly an appeal when\nlions or snakes are appeased in this way: Welcker, iii, 70, 14-15).\n_Ep\u00f4dai_ accompanying ~rhizotomi/a~ are ~epikl\u00ea/seis~ of the\n~dai/m\u00f4n h\u00f4=| h\u00ea bota/n\u00ea anie/r\u00f4tai~: _P. Mag. Par._ 2973 ff. The\nmeaning of such \"conjurings\" addressed to diseases--when the daimon\nis exorcised--is clearly seen in what Plotin. says of the Gnostics:\nthey claimed to heal the sick by means of ~_epaoidai/_, me/l\u00ea,\n\u00ea=choi~, and ~_kathai/resthai_ no/s\u00f4n, hupost\u00easa/menoi ta\\s no/sous\n_daimo/nia_ ei=nai, kai\\ ta\\ toiau=ta exairei=n _lo/g\u00f4|_ pha/skontes\ndu/nasthai~, 2, 9, 14.]\n\n[83\\9: Clashing of bronze used at ~apokatha/rseis~ to drive away\nghosts: see above, chap. v, n. 167; cf. also Macr. 5, 19, 11. Claud.\n_iv. Cons. Hon._ 149: nec te (like Juppiter) progenitum Cybeleius\naere sonoro lustravit Corybas. The noise of bronze has a kathartic\neffect simply as averting ghosts. In the process of driving out the\nghosts at the _Lemuria_, Temesaea concrepat aera, Ov., _F._ 5, 441.\nHence (?) ~chalkou= {321} auda\\n chthoni/an, E., _Hel._ 1346. At\neclipses of the sun or moon ~kinou=si chalko\\n kai\\ si/d\u00earon\na/nthr\u00f4poi pa/ntes~ (cf. Plu., _Aem._ 17; Juv. vi, 443; Mart. xii,\n57, 16 f., etc.) ~_h\u00f4s tou\\s dai/mones apelau/nontes_~, Al. Aphr.,\n_Prb._ 2, 46, p. 65, 28 Id. This is the object of the _crepitus\ndissonus_ at eclipses of the moon: Plin., _NH._ ii, 54; Liv. xxvi,\n5, 9; Tac., _A._ i, 28, and cf. Tib. i, 8, 21 f.; _ob strias_:\n[Aug.] _Sacrileg._ v, 16, with Caspari's refs., p. 31 f.]\n\n[84\\9: ~pho/n\u00f4| pho/non ekni/ptein~, E., _IT._ 1233. Purgantur\n cum cruore polluuntur . . . Heraclit. (p. 335, 5 Schust. [5\nD. = 130 B.]).]\n\n[85\\9: A.R. iv, 703 ff. ~katharmoi=s choirokto/nois . . .~: A.,\n_Eum._ 283, 449, ~hai/matos katharsi/ou~; cf. M\u00fcller, _Aesch. Eum._\n124. Representation of the ~katharmo/s~ of Orestes on well-known\nvase-paintings: _Mon. d. inst._ iv, 48, etc.]\n\n[86\\9: The \"purification\" of the stain of blood in these and similar\ncases really consisted in a \"substitution\" sacrifice whereby the\nanger of the daimones was appeased: so much was, on the whole\ncorrectly, observed long ago by Meiners, _Allg. Gesch. der relig._\nii, 137. The ~mi/asma~ that clings to the murderer is in fact just\nthe indignation of the murdered man or of the underworld spirits:\nthis is plain in Antiph., _Tet._ 3~a~, 3 (see above, chap. v, n.\n176). The thing that makes the son who has not avenged his father's\nmurder \"unclean\" and keeps him away from the altars of the gods is\n~ouch hor\u00f4me/n\u00ea patro\\s m\u00ea=nis~ A., _Ch._ 293.--In the case of\nmurder or homicide there is not only the contact with the sinister\nother-world that makes men unclean (this applies to all cases of\n\"pollution\"), but, besides this, there is also the anger of the\nmurdered soul itself (and of its protecting spirits). Hence in\n_this_ case, besides ~katharmo/s, hilasmo/s~ as well is necessary\n(see above, chap. v). It is evident, however, that it would be\ndifficult to keep the two processes distinct and that they would\neasily merge into each other.]\n\n[87\\9: The ~pharmakoi/~ are put to death at the _Thargelia_ of Ionic\ncities: Hipponax _fr._ 37. In other places on extraordinary\noccasions, but regularly at the Thargelia in Athens. This is denied\nby Stengel, _Hermes_, 22, 86 ff., but in the face of definite\nstatements from antiquity general considerations can have no weight.\nIn addition it was only a special mode of execution applied to\ncriminals already condemned to death. (Two men, acc. to Harp. 180,\n19: a man and a woman Hsch. ~pharmakoi/~: the variation is explained\nby Hellad. ap. Phot., _Bibl._, p. 354a, 3 ff. Bk.) The ~pharmakoi/~\nserve as ~katha/rsia~ to the city (Harp. 180, 19 Bk.): Hippon. _fr._\n4; Hellad. ap. Sch. Ar., _Eq._ 1136. ~pharmako/s = ka/tharma~,\nPhot., _Lex._ 640, 8 Pors. The ~pharmakoi/~ were _either_ burnt\n(after being put to death) like other propitiatory victims: Tz.,\n_Ch._ v, 736, prob. following Hippon. (the burning of the ~pharm.~\nat Athens seems to be alluded to by Eup. ~D\u00ea=m.~ 120 [i, 290 K.]);\n_or_ stoned: this form of death is implied (in the case of Athens)\nby the legend of Istros ap. Harp. 180, 23. Analogous customs\n(indicated by M\u00fcller, _Dorians_, i, 345) at Abdera: Ov., _Ib._ 465\nf. (which acc. to the Sch. is taken from Call., who evidently\ntransferred to Apollonios the pious wish directed by Hippon. against\nBoupalos); at Massilia (Petr. _fr._ 1 B\u00fc., where the ~pharmako/s~ is\neither thrown down the cliff or _saxis occidebatur a populo_: Lact.\nad Stat., _Th._ 10, 793). Apollonios of Tyana was clearly following\nancient custom when he made the people of Ephesos stone an old\nbeggar, who was evidently nothing but the plague-daimon itself, for\nthe purification of the city: ~kath\u00ea/ras tou\\s Ephesi/ous t\u00ea=s\nno/sou~, Philostr., _VA._ 4, 10-11. Was the stoning a sort of\ncounter-enchantment? See Roscher, _Kynanthropie_, 38-9.] {322}\n\n[88\\9: Among the ingredients of a ~Heka/t\u00eas dei=pnon en t\u00ea=|\ntrio/d\u00f4|~ was an ~\u00f4o\\n ek katharsi/ou~: Luc., _DM._ 1, 1; or the\ntesticles of a sucking pig that had been used as a victim: D., 54,\n39. The ~oxuthu/mia~, sacrifices to Hekate and the souls of the dead\n(see above, chap. v, n. 176), are identical with the ~katha/rmata\nkai\\ apolu/mata~ which were thrown out at the crossroads in the\n~Hekatai=a~: Did. ap. Harp. ~oxuthu/mia~; cf. _E.M._ 626, 44.\n~katha/rsia~ is the name of the purificatory offerings:\n~katha/rmata~ of the same when they are thrown away: Ammon., p. 79\nValck. The dead bodies of dogs which had been used as victims at the\n\"purification\" were afterwards thrown ~t\u00ea=| Heka/t\u00ea| meta\\ t\u00f4=n\na/ll\u00f4n katharsi/\u00f4n~, Plu., _QR._ 68, p. 280 C. Even the blood and\nwater of the purificatory sacrifice, the ~apo/nimma~, is also\ndedicated to the dead: Ath. 409 E ff. The fact that the\n~katha/rmata~ are made over to the invisibly present spirits at the\ncross roads might be derived also from the necessity for throwing\nthem out ~ametastrepti/~ (see below, n. 104). Even the Argive custom\nof throwing the ~katha/rmata~ into the Lernaean lake (Znb., iv, 86;\nDgn., vi, 7; Hsch. ~Le/rn\u00ea theat\u00f4=n~) shows that these kathartic\nmaterials are intended as a sacrifice to the underground spirits\nsince the Lernaean lake was an entrance to the underworld (see\nabove, chap. viii, n. 28).]\n\n[89\\9: Annual ~telet\u00ea/~ to Hekate in Aegina reputed to have been\nfounded by Orpheus. Hekate and her ~katharmoi/~ were there regarded\nas valuable against insanity (for she can remove what she herself\nhas sent): Ar., _Ves._ 122; Lob., _Agl._ 242. This initiation\nfestival lasted on into the fourth century A.D.--Paus. refers to\nonly one other temple of Hekate in Argos: 2, 22, 7.--Indications of\na rigorous worship of Hekate in Kos: _GDI._ 3624, iii, p. 345 fin.\nHekate was patron-goddess of the city of Stratonikeia: Tac., _A._\niii, 62. Str., 660, and in other cities of Karia (as is known from\ninscr.). Possibly Hekate is there only a Greek title of a native\nKarian deity. The ancient cult of the ~chtho/nioi~ at the Triopion\nin Knidos was, however, Greek: B\u00f6ckh on Sch. Pi., p. 314 f.; _CIG._\ni, p. 45.]\n\n[90\\9: ~chthoni/a kai\\ nerte/r\u00f4n pru/tanis~: Sophr. _fr._ 7 Kaib.\nap. Sch. Theoc. ii, 12.--She is actually queen in Hades, sharing the\nthrone of Plouton it seems: S., _Ant._ 1199. She is often called\n~chthoni/a~. She is ~Adm\u00ea/tou ko/r\u00ea~ (i.e. of Hades, K. O. M\u00fcller,\n_Introd. Scient. Myth._ 245): Hsch. She is called ~adm\u00ea/t\u00ea~ herself\nin _H. Mag. Hec._, Abel, _Orph._, p. 289. She is the daughter of\nEuboulos, i.e. Hades: _Orph. H._, 72, 3 (elsewhere of course she has\nother origins). As ~chthoni/a~ she is often confused with Persephone\n(and both, as they are all thus united in several particulars, with\nArtemis). In the transcript of a metrical inscr. from Budrum\n(Cilicia) in _JHS._ xi, 252. there appears a ~G\u00ea= Heka/t\u00ea~. This\nwould certainly be very remarkable but on the stone itself the\nactual words are ~_t\u00ea\\n_ sebo/mesth' Hek[a/t\u00ean]~. [But cf. _Tab.\nDefix._, p. xiii, a 13.]]\n\n[91\\9: Hekate goddess of childbirth: Sophr. _fr._ 7. worshipped in\nAthens as ~kourotro/phos~, Sch. Ar., _V._ 804. Samian worship of the\n~kourotro/phos en t\u00ea=| trio/d\u00f4|~ (i.e. as Hek.), [Hdt.] _V. Hom._\n30; Hes., _Thg._ 450: ~th\u00ea=ke de/ min~ (Hek.) ~Kroni/d\u00eas\nkourotro/phon~. (Even as early as this ~kour.~ is the epithet of\nHek. and not the name of an independ. feminine daimon which it may\nhave been to begin with, and in isolated cases remained.)\n~Genetulli/s~ goddess of childbirth is said to be ~eoikui=a t\u00ea=|\nHeka/t\u00ea|~: Hsch. ~Gen.~ The goddess Eileithyia to whom dogs were\nsacrificed in Argos is certainly a Hekate (Sokr. ap. Plu., _Q. Rom._\n52, p. 277 B--she was Artemis elsewhere). A consecration to Hekate\n~hupe\\r paido/s~: inscr. from Larisa, _Ath. Mitth._ xi, 450. Hek. is\nalso a goddess of marriage: as such (~ho/ti gam\u00ea/lios h\u00ea Heka/t\u00ea~,\nSch.) she is called upon with Hymenaios {323} by Kassandra in Eur.,\n_Tr._ 323. Hekate is ~gam\u00ea/lios~ simply as ~chthoni/a~: the\n~chtho/nioi~ frequently take part in marriage as well as birth: see\nabove, chap. v, p. 64 ff.; Gaia: see Welcker, _G\u00f6tterl._ i, 327.\nOffering made ~pro\\ pai/d\u00f4n kai\\ gam\u00eali/ou te/lous~ to the Erinyes:\nA., _Eum._ 835.]\n\n[92\\9: Hekate present at funerals (rushing ~pro\\s a/ndras nekro\\n\nphe/rontas~, Sophr. _fr._ 7) ~erchome/na ana/ t' \u00eari/a kai\\ me/lan\nhai=ma~ Theoc. ii, 13. ~chai/rousa skula/k\u00f4n hulak\u00ea=| kai\\ hai/mati\nphoi/n\u00f4| en ne/kusi stei/chousa kat' \u00eari/a tethn\u00ea\u00f4/t\u00f4n~, _H. Hec._\nap. Hipp., _RH._ iv, 35, p. 102, 64 f. D.-S.--Hekate present at all\ninfamous deeds: see the remarkable formulae ap. Plu., _Superst._ 10,\np. 170 B (Bgk., _PLG_^4 iii, p. 680).--Hek. regarded as devouring\ncorpses (like Eurynomos, etc., above, chap. vii, n. 24):\n~haimopo/tis, kardio/daite, sarkopha/ge, a\u00f4robo/re~ are said of her\nin the _Hymn. Magic_, 5, ll. 53-4 (p. 294 Ab.). ~phthisi/k\u00eare~\nshould be also read, ib., l. 44 (~k\u00ea=res = psuchai/~, see above,\nchap. v, n. 100); cf. ~\u00f4mopha/goi chtho/nioi~, _P. Mag. Par._ 1444.\n~Heka/t\u00ea akrourobo/r\u00ea~ on a _defixio_ from Megara ap. _Tab. Defix._,\np. xiii_a_, l. 7 W\u00fcnsch. Probably ~a\u00f4robo/r\u00ea~ should be read (W\u00fcnsch\ndifferently, p. xx_b_).]\n\n[93\\9: See above, chap. v, nn. 66, 132.]\n\n[94\\9: Medea in E., _Med._ 385 ff.: ~ou ga\\r ma\\ t\u00ea\\n de/spoinan\nh\u00ea\\n eg\u00f4\\~ (as magician) ~se/b\u00f4 ma/lista pa/nt\u00f4n kai\\ xunergo\\n\nheilo/m\u00ean, Heka/t\u00ean, muchoi=s nai/ousan hesti/as em\u00ea\\s.--D\u00ea/m\u00eatros\nko/r\u00ea~ is addressed as ~_puro\\s de/spoina_~, in company with\nHephaistos, in E., _Phaeth._, _fr._ 781, 59. Probably Hekate is\nmeant being here as frequently combined or confused with Persephone\nthe daughter of Demeter (cf. _Ion_, 1048).]\n\n[95\\9: The pious man cleans and decorates every month ~to\\n Herm\u00ea=n\nkai\\ t\u00ea\\n Heka/t\u00ean kai\\ ta\\ loipa\\ t\u00f4=n hier\u00f4=n ha\\ d\u00ea\\ tou\\s\nprogo/nous katalipei=n~, Theopomp. ap. Porph., _Abs._ ii, 16 (p.\n146, 8-9 N.). Acc. to this Hekate and Hermes belong to the ~theoi\\\npatr\u00f4=|oi~ of the house.--Shrines of Hekate before the house-door\n(Lob., _Agl._ 1336 f.); cf. the sacella of the Heroes in the same\nplace: above, chap. iv, n. 135.]\n\n[95a\\9: The late interpolation in Hes., _Th._ 411-52, in praise of\nHekate leaves out the uncanny side of her character altogether.\nHekate has here become so much the universally revered goddess that\nshe has lost all definite personality in the process. The whole is a\ntelling example of the sort of extension that might be given to a\nsingle divinity who had once been the vital cult-object of a small\nlocality. The name of this universally known daimon becomes finally\nof little importance (for everything is heaped upon one\npersonality). Hence there is little to be learnt of the special\ncharacteristics of Hekate from this Hymn. (In any case it is time we\ngave up calling this Hymn to Hekate \"Orphic\": the word is even more\nthan usually meaningless and conventional in this case.)]\n\n[96\\9: Hekate (~nai/ousa~ at the crossroads, S. _fr._ 492 N.) meets\nmen as an ~antai/a theo/s~ (S. _fr._ 311) and is herself called\n~antai/a~ (_fr._ 311, 368; cf. _EM._ 111, 50, where what precedes is\nfrom Sch. A.R. i, 1141). The same adj. applies to a ~dai/m\u00f4n~ that\nshe causes to appear: Hsch. ~antai/a, antai=os~, in this as in most\ncases with the added sense of hostile. Hek. ~phainome/n\u00ea en\nekto/pois pha/smasin~, Suid. ~Heka/t\u00ean~. (from Elias Cret. on Greg.\nNz. iv, p. 487 Mg.). She appears or sends apparitions by night as\nwell as by day: ~Einodi/a, thu/gater Da/matros, ha\\ t\u00f4=n nuktipo/l\u00f4n\nepho/d\u00f4n ana/sseis kai\\ methameri/\u00f4n~, E., _Ion_, 1048 ff. Meilinoe,\na euphemistically (cf. above, chap. v, n. 5) named daimonic\ncreature, either Hekate or Empousa, meets ~antai/ais epho/doisi\nkata\\ zophoeide/a nu/kta~, Orph. _H._ 71, 9. Hek. appears at midday\nin Luc., _Philops._ 22. In this midday vision she opens the earth\nand ~ta\\ en Ha/idou ha/panta~ become visible (c. 24). This reminds\nus of the story told by Herakl. {324} Pont. of Empedotimos to whom\nPlouton and Persephone appeared ~en mes\u00eambri/a| stathera=|~ in a\nlonely spot and the whole world of the spirits became visible (ap.\nProcl. _in _Rp.__ ii, 119 Kroll). Lucian is probably parodying that\nstory. Elsewhere in the same pamphlet he gives an absurd turn to a\nfabulous narrative of Plutarch's (_de An. fr._ 1 Bern. = _Philops._\n25).]\n\n[97\\9: See Append. vi.]\n\n[98\\9: See Append. vii.]\n\n[99\\9: Hekate herself is regarded as having the head of a dog:\nundoubtedly an ancient conception of her (she has ~skulak\u00f4/dea\nph\u00f4n\u00ea/n~, _H. Mag._ 5, 17 Ab.). She is sometimes even a dog herself:\nHsch. ~Heka/t\u00eas a/galma~, and partic. _AB._ 336, 31-337, 5; Call.\n_fr._ 100 h, 4. She is identified with Kerberos: Lyd., _Mens._ 3, 8,\np. 42 W. She is actually invoked as a dog in _P. Mag. Par._ 1432\nff., p. 80 W.: ~kuri/a Heka/t\u00ea einodi/a, ku/\u00f4n me/laina~. Hence dogs\nare sacred to her and are sacrificed to her (earliest witness Sophr.\n_fr._ 8 Kaib.). The hounds with whom she flies about at night are\ndaimonic creatures like Hekate herself. Porph. (who was specially\nwell informed about such things) said that ~saph\u00f4=s~ the hounds of\nHekate were ~pon\u00earoi\\ dai/mones~: ap. Eus., _PE._ 4, 23, 7-8. In\nLycophron's account (ll. 1174-80) _Hekabe_ is represented exactly in\nthis way, i.e. as a daimonic creature who appears to men as a hound\n(cf. _PLG._ iii, 721 f.). She is transformed by Hekate (Brimo) into\none of her train (~hep\u00f4pi/da~) who by their nocturnal howling strike\nterror into men who have neglected to make offering to the\ngoddess.--Dogs occur as symbols of the dead on\ngrave-reliefs?--above, chap. v, n. 105. (Erinyes as hounds; Keres as\n\"Hounds of Hades\": A.R. iv, 1665; _AP._ vii, 439, 3 [Theodorid.],\netc. Ruhnken, _Ep. Cr._ i, 94.)]\n\n[100\\9: See Dilthey, _Rh. Mus._ 25, 332 ff.]\n\n[101\\9: The Italian Diana who had long become identical with Hekate\nremained familiar to the Christianized peoples of the early Middle\nAges (allusions in Christian authors: Grimm, pp. 283, 286, 933, 949,\n1161 f. O. Jahn, _B\u00f6s. Blick_, 108). She was, in fact, the meeting\npoint of the endless mass of superstition that had survived into\nthat time from Graeco-Roman tradition. The nocturnal riding of a mob\nof women (i.e. \"souls\" of women) _cum Diana, paganorum dea_ is\nquoted as a popular superstition by the so-called _Canon Episcopi_,\nwhich in the controversies on witches was so often appealed to. This\ndocument, it seems, cannot be traced back further than Regino (end\nof ninth century). He seems to have got it out of [Aug.] _De Sp. et\nAnima_ (probably written in the sixth century). It was rescued from\noblivion by Burkhard of Wurms, used in the Decretals of Gratian, and\nbecame very well known in the Middle Ages. (The passage from\nBurkhard is printed in Grimm, p. 1741. That the whole is a Canon\n(24) of the Council of Ancyra, 314 A.D., is, however, only a\nmistaken idea of Burkhard's.) This belief in the nightly hunt of\nDiana with the souls may be regarded as a vestige of the ancient\nidea of Hekate and her nocturnal crew. It was all the more likely to\nsurvive in northern countries with their native legends of wild\nHunters and the \"furious host\" with which it could so easily\ncombine. [\"Herne the Hunter,\" _Merry Wives of Windsor_, iv, 4; v,\n5.]]\n\n[102\\9: ~hoko/sa dei/mata nukto\\s pari/statai, kai\\ pho/boi kai\\\npara/noiai kai\\ anap\u00ead\u00ea/seis ek t\u00ea=s kli/n\u00eas kai\\ pho/b\u00eatra kai\\\npheu/xeis e/x\u00f4, Heka/t\u00eas phasi\\n ei=nai epibola\\s kai\\ h\u00ear\u00f4/\u00f4n\nepho/dous, katharmoi=si/ te chre/ontai kai\\ epaoidai=s~, Hp., _Morb.\nSac._ vi, 362 L.; cf. Plu., _Supers._, 3, p. 166 A; Hor., _AP._ 454.\nHekate is ~mani\u00f4=n aiti/a~, Eust., _Il._, p. 87, 31 (hence also\nreleases men from madness in the initiations of Aegina, see above,\nn. 89); cf. ~e/ntheos {325} ex Heka/t\u00eas~, E., _Hip._ 141. Dreams of\nHekate, Artemid., 2, 37, p. 139, 1 ff. H. The ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4es apopl\u00ea/ktous\npoiei=n du/nantai~: Sch. Ar., _Av._ 1490. The ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4es~ are also the\nsource of nightmares, _Rh. Mus._ 37, 467 n. (like Pan as Ephialtes:\nDidym. ap. Sch. Ar., _Ves._ 1038--where ~_Eua/pan_~ should be read,\nfrom ~eu/a~ the noise of bleating goats and ~Pa=n~: Suid. and _CIG._\niv, 8382). The Lamiai and Empousai seem also to have been\nnight-terrors; cf. what is said of their amorous disposition and\ndesire for human blood by Apollonios ap. Philostr. _VA._ 4, 25, p.\n145, 18; and what is said of Pan-Ephialtes, ~ea\\n de\\ sunousia/z\u00ea|~,\nArtemid., p. 139, 21 H. General statement: ~oneir\u00f4/ssein~ comes\n~apo\\ _daimo/n\u00f4n_ energei/as~ Suid. ~oneiropolei=n~, p. 1124 Gaisf.\nSeirenes: Crusius, _Philol._ 50, 97 ff.]\n\n[103\\9: The \"Banquets of Hekate\", besides the ~katha/rmata~ referred\nto above (n. 88), included also the specially prepared dishes that\nwere made and put out for Hekate ~kata\\ m\u00ea=na~ (Ar., _Plu._ 596) at\nthe ~triaka/des~ (see above, chap. v, n. 88) or else at the\n~noum\u00eani/ai~, Sch. Ar., _Plu._ 594: ~kata\\ t\u00ea\\n noum\u00eani/an,\n_hespe/ras_~; cf. the offering to Hekate and Hermes at each\n~noum\u00eani/a~: Theopomp. ap. Porph., _Abs._ 2, 16, p. 146, 7 N. These\nbanquets of Hek. are meant by Ar., _Plu._ 594 ff., S. _fr._ 668 N.;\nPlu., _Smp._ 7, 3, p. 709 A.--It is possible that at the turn of the\nmonth there was a \"purification\" of the house, in which case the\n~katha/rsia~ and the ~Heka/t\u00eas dei=pna~ would be again\ncombined.--Ingredients of the offerings to Hek.: eggs and toasted\ncheese (Sch. Ar.); ~tri/gl\u00ea~ and ~maina/s~ Ath. 325 B.; flame-cakes\n(of cheese, ~plakou=ntes dia\\ turou=~, Paus. Lex. ap. Eust. 1165,\n14) ~amphiph\u00f4=ntes~ (see Lob., _Agl._ 1062 f.).]\n\n[104\\9: The person ~katha/rmata ekpe/mpsas~ throws them away\n~aostro/phoisin o/mmasin~: A., _Cho._ 98-9. The vessel filled with\nthe purificatory offerings was emptied ~en tai=s trio/dois~ and\n~ametastrepti/~: Schol. ib. This was regular with ~katharmoi/~:\nTheoc. xxiv, 94 ff., and at offerings to the Erinyes: S., _OC._ 490.\nEven Odysseus is obliged at his sacrifice to the dead ~apono/sphi\ntrape/sthai~, ~k~ 528. Medea in collecting her magic juices turns\nher eyes ~exopi/s\u00f4 chero/s~: S. ~Rhiz.~ _fr._ 491 N.; A.R. iv, 1315;\ncf. also Lomeier, _de lustrat._, p. 455 f. This remained the rule at\nsacrifices to ~chtho/nioi~ and in magic ceremonies which regularly\nhad to do with the underworld. Even Marc. Emp. in giving directions\nfor the cure of ~phusika/~ often enjoins _nec retro respice_ e.g. 1,\n54, likewise Plin., _NH._ 21, 176; 29, 91. In making an enchantment\n~poreu/ou anepistreptei\\ m\u00eadeni\\ dou\\s apo/krisin~ _P. Mag. Lond._,\ngiven in Kenyon _Greek Pap. in B.M._, i, p. 98. Modern superstition\nagrees: cf. Grimm, p. 1789, n. 299; cf. nn. 357, 558, 890, 1137. The\neye must be turned away from the \"furious host\": Birlinger, _Aus\nSchwaben_, _N.S._ i, 90. The precaution is, however, of primeval\nantiquity. In the old Indian cult of the dead and worship of\nformidable deities many of the proceedings must be performed\n~ametastrepti/~, Oldenberg, 335 f., 487 f., 550, n. 5; 577 f., 580.\nThe reason for the precaution is not hard to see. If the person\nlooked round he would see the spirits engaged in taking possession\nof the objects thrown to them, which would be sure to bring\nill-luck--~chalepoi\\ de\\ theoi\\ phai/nesthai enarg\u00f4=s~. Hence\nOdysseus, when he is returning Leukotho\u00eb's wimple by throwing it\ninto the sea, must ~auto\\s apono/sphi trape/sthai~, ~e~ 350. Hence\nOrpheus must not look back at Eurydike while she belongs to the\nlower world. (Cf. Hannibal's dream reported after Silenus and Cael.\nAnt. by Cic., _Div._ i, 49.) ~hoi entugcha/nontes nukto\\s h\u00ea/r\u00f4si\ndie/strephon ta\\s o/pseis~: Sch. Ar., _Av._ 1493. Very clearly put\nby Ov., _F._ 5, 437; at the Lemuria the sacrificer throws away the\nbeans aversus . . . nec respicit. umbra putatur colligere et nullo\nterga vidente sequi. At last when the Manes are {326} all driven\nout, _respicit_ (444). One of the Pythagorean ~su/mbola~, those\ninvaluable fragments of Greek old wives' wisdom, runs: ~apod\u00eam\u00f4=n\nt\u00ea=s oiki/as m\u00ea\\ epistre/phou; Erinu/es ga\\r mete/rchontai~ (Iamb.,\n_Protr._, p. 114, 29 f. Pist). Here the _reason_ for the\nsuperstitious practice is clearly shown (cf. also Grimm, p. 1778, n.\n14; cf. n. 360): the underworld spirits (wandering over the earth,\nesp. on the fifth of the month, as in Hes., _Op._ 803) are following\nthe departing person: if he were to turn round he would see them.]\n\n[105\\9: Appearance of ~ei/d\u00f4la~ of the dead: not as in Homer in\ndreams only, but openly before men's waking eyes. Stories of this go\nback as far as the poems of the Epic Cycle; cf. appearance of\nAchilles in the little Iliad (p. 37 Ki), in the ~No/stoi~ (p. 33).\nHow familiar this idea had become by the fifth century may be judged\nfrom the frequency of ghosts in the tragedians: A., _Pers. Eum.\nProm._ ~Psuch.~; S., ~Polux.~; cf. _fr._ 795 N.; E., _Hec._; raising\nof the spirit of a dead man, _fr._ 912; cf. also the stories of\nSimonides and the grateful dead (Bgk. on Sim. _fr._ 129); of Pelops\nand the ~ei/d\u00f4lon~ of Killos (see A. Marx, _Griech. M\u00e4rchen von\ndankbaren Thieren_, p. 114 f.).]\n\n[106\\9: Spirit-raising at entrances to the underworld at definite\n~psuchomantei=a~ or ~nekuomantei=a~: see above, chap. v, n. 23.\nThere were, however, ~psuchag\u00f4goi/~ who could compel individual\nsouls to appear at other places as well: E., _Alc._ 1128 f. Such\n~psuchag\u00f4goi/~ belonging to the fifth century and to be found in\nThessaly are spoken of by Plu. ap. Sch. E., _Alc._ 1128. People\n~tou/s te tethne\u00f4=tas pha/skontes psuchag\u00f4gei=n kai\\ theou\\s\nhupischnou/menoi pei/thein, h\u00f4s thusi/ais te kai\\ euchai=s kai\\\nep\u00f4|dai=s go\u00eateu/ontes~ occur in Pl., _Lg._ 909 B. Later literature\nabounds in such spirit-raisings. Conjuring Hekate to appear was a\nfavourite magic experiment: A.R. iii, 1030 f., etc., recipe for\nproducing this illusion in Hipp., _RH._ iv, 35-6, p. 102 f. D.-S. A\n~Heka/t\u00eas epag\u00f4g\u00ea/~ occurs as early as Thphr., _Ch._ 28 (16).]\n\n[107\\9: ~agu/rtai kai\\ ma/nteis~ profess ~ea/n ti/s tin' echthro\\n\np\u00eam\u00ea=nai ethe/l\u00ea| meta\\ smikr\u00f4=n dapan\u00f4=n homoi/\u00f4s di/kaion adi/k\u00f4|\nbla/psein, epag\u00f4gai=s tisi kai\\ katade/smois tou\\s theou/s, h\u00f4/s\nphasi, pei/thonte/s sphisin hup\u00earetei=n~, Pl., _Rp._ 364 C. And esp.\nfrom _Lg._ 933 AE we get a good idea of the fear that the ~ma/nteis~\nand ~teratosko/poi~ generally inspired with their ~katade/seis\nepag\u00f4gai/, ep\u00f4|dai/~, and other ~magganei=ai~ (we even hear of\nwax-figures on house-doors, grave-stones, ~epi\\ trio/dois~, as so\nfrequently later, with the same superstitious purpose. Plato himself\ndoes not rule out the possibility of such magic incantations: at\nleast they did not conflict with his own daimonic theory: see _Smp._\n203 A. ~epag\u00f4gai/~ are \"evocations\" of spirits or gods: see Ruhnk.,\n_Tim._, p. 115. ~epipompai/~ have the same meaning: see above, chap.\nv, n. 168. ~epipe/mpein~ frequently in this sense in the _Orph. H._\n~_katade/seis_, _kata/desmoi_~ are the \"bindings\" whereby the\nspirit-raiser magically compels the unseen to do his will.\nCompulsion is regularly found to be necessary: the spirits do not\ncome willingly. The magician by his spells and ceremonies is their\nmaster; he exerts over them that ~ana/gk\u00ea (ho epa/nagkos~ is\nfrequent in the magical books) or ~peithana/gk\u00ea~ of which Porph. ap.\nEus., _PE._ 5, 8, specially tells us (probably deriving it from\nPythagoras of Rhodos). ~pei/thein~ is Plato's weaker word: the most\nextreme is ~biastikai\\ apeilai/~ Iamb. _Myst._ 6, 5 [i.e. Porph.\n_Ep. Aneb. fr._ 31 Parth.]; cf. ~to\\ dei=na pra/xeis ka\\n the/l\u00ea|s\nka\\n m\u00ea\\ the/l\u00ea|s~: refrain in a magic hymn, _P. Mag. Par._ 2252\nff.--Just as in these incantations the ~kata/desis~ affects the gods\nthemselves so in other cases the victim is the unfortunate person\nwhom the magician intends to harm: in this sense we have\n~katade/seis, kata/desmoi~, _P. Par._ 336; Orph. _Lith._ 582, and\nthe {327} _devotiones_ or _defixiones_ written on metal tablets\nwhich have been found in such numbers in graves; see Gothofred. ad\n_Cod. Theod._ 9, 16, 3. These are now collected and edited by R.\nW\u00fcnsch, _Defixionum tabellae in Attica repertae_ (_CIA._ App.),\n1897, with those found outside Attica included in the _Praefatio_.\nHere we find ~katad\u00f4= (katadi/d\u00eami to\\n dei=na~ his tongue, limbs,\nmind, etc. (nn. 68, 89, 95, etc.), i.e. a magical disabling,\nparalysing, fettering of his faculties--and of all his efforts:\n~atel\u00ea=, enanti/a pa/nta ge/noito~, nn. 64, 98. The carrying out of\nthis is entrusted to Hermes ~chtho/nios~ or to Hekate (~katad\u00f4=\nauto\\n pro\\s to\\n Herm\u00ea=n ktl.~) as the ~_ka/tochoi_ dai/mones~; cf.\nnn. 81, 84, 85, 86, 101, 105, 106, 107. Sometimes the promoter of\nthe ~kata/desis~ says of himself ~katad\u00f4= kai\\ kate/ch\u00f4~ 109, etc.\nThe _defixio_ itself is called ~ho ka/tochos~, _Gk. Pap. in B.M._\n(Ken.), No. 121, ll. 394, 429 = p. 97-8. ~katadei=n~ is therefore\nhere = ~kate/chesthai poiei=n~ (= disable him--not make him\n\"possessed\") and implies the delivery of the victim into the power\nof the infernal spirits.--The ~ma/nteis~ and ~kathartai/~ appear as\naccomplished weather-magicians in Hp., _Morb. Sac._ vi, 358 L. They\nare claimed to be able to draw down the moon (an old art of\nThessalian witches), make the sun go out, cause rain or drought at\nwill, etc. A ~ge/nos~ of ~anemokoi=tai~ at Korinth was able ~tou\\\nane/mous koimi/zein~: Hsch. Suid. ~anemok.~: cf. Welcker, _Kl.S._\niii, 63. The claims made by these ~kathartai/~ for themselves were\nmade by later ages on behalf of Abaris, Epimenides, Pythagoras,\netc.; Porph., _VP._ 28-9 (Iamb. 135 f.); Empedokles promised them to\nhis own pupils; 464 ff. Mull., _fr._ 111 Diels; and cf. Welcker,\n_Kl.S._ iii, 60 f.--These are all examples of magical arts from\nearly times: the overwhelming mass of evidence for such proceedings\nin later ages cannot be mentioned here except as explaining ancient\naccounts.]\n\n[108\\9: Abaris had been mentioned by Pindar (Harp. ~A/baris~); Hdt.\nmentions him in iv, 36. There we hear of the arrow which he bore\nalong with him ~kata\\ pa=san t\u00ea\\n g\u00ea=n~ and of his complete\nabstention from food (cf. Iamb., _VP._ 141). The arrow, a ~su/mbolon\ntou= Apo/ll\u00f4nos~ (Lycurg. _fr._ 85, ap. Eudoc., p. 34, 10) is borne\nby Abaris in his hand--the suggestion of Wesseling, recently\nrevived, that we should in Hdt.'s passage read ~h\u00f4s to\\n o\u00efsto\\s\nperie/phere~, has been shown to be linguistically impossible by\nStruve, _Opusc. Crit._ ii, 269. The embellishment of the Abaris\nstory, whereby he (like Musaios) flew through the air on his arrow,\nis later than Hdt. or than Lyk. (The arrow is presumably the same as\nthe one of which Herak. Pont. tells some strange things; ap.\n[Eratosth.] _Catast._ 29.) The story sounds rather like Herakleides.\nSee Porph., _VP._ 29; Iamb., _VP._ 91, 136; Him., _O._ 25, 2, 4;\nNonn. _D._ 11, 132 f.; Proc. Gaz., _Ep._ 96. Abaris was regarded as\n~e/ntheos~ (Eudoc.) as ~kathart\u00ea/s~ and ~chr\u00easmolo/gos~, as driving\naway pestilences by magic arts (esp. in Sparta, where ~k\u00f4lut\u00ea/ria~ =\napotropaic sacrifices, were instituted and a temple of ~Ko/r\u00ea\ns\u00f4/teira~ founded: Apollon., _Mir._ 4--prob. from Theopomp.: see\n_Rh. Mus._ 26, 558--Iamb., _VP._ 92, 141; Paus. 3, 13, 2). He is\nalso said to have prophesied earthquakes, pestilence, etc.\n(Apollon.), and to have given prescriptions against disease and\n~ep\u00f4dai/~ (Pl., _Chrm._ 158 CD); was a type of ~eukoli/as kai\\\nlito/t\u00eatos kai\\ dikaiosu/n\u00eas~: Str. 301.--The figure of Abaris thus\nleft rather vague in ancient legend was elaborated from two sources:\n(1) the Athenian cult-legends of the foundation of the _Pro\u00ebrosia_:\nHarp. ~A/b.~, Suid. ~pro\u00earosi/a~. Sch. Ar., _Eq._ 729; Lycurg.\n~kata\\ Menesai/chmou~; and (2) the Pythagorean legends. It is in\nitself very probable that the story in Iamb., _VP._ 91-3, 147, of\nthe meeting between Abaris and Pythagoras goes back to the fabulous\n\"Abaris\" of Herakleides {328} (the story in 215-17 of Abaris and\nPythagoras before Phalaris evidently comes from Apoll. Ty.). This\nwas suggested by Krische _de soc. Pythag._, p. 38, and has been more\ndefinitely maintained by Diels, _Arch. f. Gesch. d. Philos._ iii,\n468: it cannot, however, be demonstrated absolutely--there is not a\nscrap of evidence to show that Herakleides did actually make Abaris\nmeet Pythagoras. (~Puthago/ras en t\u00f4=| pro\\s A/barin lo/g\u00f4=|~,\nProcl. in _Tim._ 141 D. may very possibly, but not _necessarily_, as\nDiels thinks, refer to the _Abaris_ of Herakleides.)--In any case\nthe bringing together of Abaris and Pyth. is a late invention; it is\nimpossible to say whether it could have occurred or did occur as\nearly as the Aristotelian work ~peri\\ t\u00f4=n Puthagorei/\u00f4n~.--In any\ncase, the guiding conception in all this is that Abaris did not\nbelong to the primeval past but came to Greece in the daylight of\nhistorical times. Pindar makes this happen ~kata\\ Kroi=son to\\n\nLud\u00f4=n basile/a~ (prob. about the time of the ~Sa/rde\u00f4n ha/l\u00f4sis~,\nOl. 58, 3 = 546); \"others\" (acc. to Harp.) made it earlier, in Ol.\n21 = 696. It is impossible to tell what the reasons were for either\nof these particular dates. Abaris might still be regarded as a\ncontemporary of Pythagoras by those who, with Eusebios and\nNikostratos ap. Harp., put him in Ol. 53 (~kata\\ t\u00ea\\n [=]n[=]g\nOlumpia/da~, for so the figure in Harp. should be read and not ~[=]g\nOl.~; the right reading is preserved from Harp. in Suid. ~A/b.~).\nThis view, however, is not, as Diels thinks, obtained by making\nAbaris forty years older than Pyth. (The ~akm\u00ea/~ of Pyth. falls in\nOl. 62--see _Rh. Mus._ 26, 570--and that, too, is the date--not Ol.\n63--given by \"Eusebius _Chronica_\", i.e. the Armenian, tr. and the\nMSS. _PEMR_ of Jerome.) Perhaps Abaris was regarded as the\ncontemporary of Phalaris whose reign according to one of the\nversions given by Eusebios began in Ol. 53, or 52, 3. Cf. _Rh. Mus._\n36, 567.]\n\n[109\\9: _Ekstasis_ of Aristeas: ~tou/tou phasi\\ t\u00ea\\n psuch\u00ea\\n,\nho/tan ebou/leto, exie/nai kai\\ epanie/nai pa/lin~. Suid.\n~Ariste/as~. His body lies as if dead ~h\u00ea de\\ psuch\u00ea\\ ekdu=sa tou=\ns\u00f4/matos epla/zeto en t\u00f4=| aithe/ri ktl.~ Max. Tyr. 16, 2, p. 288 R.\n(reperimus) Aristeae animum evolantem ex ore in Proconneso corvi\neffigie, Plin., _NH._ vii, 174 (very similar stories from elsewhere,\nGrimm, p. 1083 [and Baring-Gould, _Myths of M.A._]). So, too, the\n~Arima/speia~ said that Aristeas reached the Issedones\n~phoiba/lamptos geno/menos~ (Hdt. iv, 13); which at least means in\nsome strange way impossible for other men, i.e. in Apolline\n**ecstasy (cf. above, n. 63, ~numpho/l\u00eaptos~, etc.; ~en eksta/sei\napophoib\u00f4/menos~, _P. Mag. Par._, p. 63 Wess.). So, too, Max. Tyr.\n38, 3, p. 222 ff., makes Aristeas describe how his ~psuch\u00ea/,\nkatalipou=sa to\\ s\u00f4=ma~ had reached the Hyperboreans, etc. These\naccounts are not derived from Hdt. who on the contrary says that\nArist. _died_ in a fuller's mill at Prokonnesos and that his body\nthen disappeared and was seen by a man at Kyzikos. This would be\n_translation_ of body and soul together _not_ ~e/kstasis~ of the\nsoul alone. In this case Hdt. is probably inaccurate. In such cases\nof translation the point of the story, in fact its whole meaning,\nlies in the fact that the translated person has not died but that he\nhas vanished without his soul being separated from his body, i.e.\nwithout dying; for normally in death the soul alone vanishes. This\napplies to all the cases of translation referred to in this book\n(see e.g. the story of the Hero Euthymos: above, chap. iv, n. 116;\nof Kleomedes, p. 129, above; and also to the legend of Romulus in\nPlu., _Rom._ 27-8, in which Plu. rightly finds much resemblance with\nthe story of Aristeas as told by Hdt. It applies to the numerous\nstories of translation which, evidently after Greek models, were\ntold of the Latin and Roman kings (see Preller, _R\u00f6m. Mythol._^2, p.\n84 f., 704). It appears then that {329} Hdt, has combined two\nversions of the legend: one acc. to which Aristeas \"died\" (not only\non this occasion but often), i.e. his soul separated itself from his\nbody and had a life of its own; another in which his body and soul\nwere \"translated\" together without his death. In either version\nAristeas might meet with the man in Kyzikos: if he were translated,\nit would be his vanished body (cf. Romulus' meeting Julius\nProculus); but if his soul left his body behind as though lifeless\nthen it would be the soul as ~ei/d\u00f4lon~ of its body that appeared to\nthe man (as in the cases of Pythagoras and Apoll. Tyan. who were\nseen at two different places at the same time). This last story seems\nto be the real and primitive one; it is suggested by the\nabove-mentioned accounts of the ~e/kstasis~ of the soul of Aristeas\nand it was so understood by the authority (apparently Thpomp.) whom\nApollon., _Mirab._ 2, is following.]\n\n[110\\9: Hdt. iv, 15, Thpomp. ap. Ath. 13, 605 C: the bronze laurel\nwas set up ~kata\\ t\u00ea\\n Ariste/a tou= Prokonn\u00easi/ou epid\u00eami/an ho/te\ne/ph\u00easen ex Huperbore/\u00f4n paragegone/nai~. This is not said by Hdt.\nbut is compatible with his account. Acc. to Hdt. Aristeas told the\npeople of Metapontum that they alone of all the Italiots had been\nvisited by Apollo and that he, Aristeas, had been in the god's train\nin the shape of a raven (sacred to Apollo). This last feature allows\nus to conclude that Hdt., too, knew of the wanderings made by the\nsoul of Aristeas while his body remained at home as though dead. The\nraven is clearly the soul of Aristeas: Plin., _NH._ vii, 174.--The\n~epid\u00eami/a~ of Aristeas in Metapontum fell acc. to Hdt.'s own\ncalculation (~h\u00f4s sumballo/menos . . . heu/riskon~) 240 years (not\n230) after the second ~aphanismo/s~ of Aristeas from Prokonnesos. As\nAristeas had in his poem spoken of the beginning of the Kimmerian\ninvasion (Hdt. iv, 13) his first ~aphanismo/s~ cannot have been\n_before_ 681 (the first year of Ardys' reign, when the Kimmerian\ninvasion began acc. to Hdt. i, 15: Prokonnesos was, too, first\nfounded under Gyges: Str. 587). Taking this as a starting point (and\nit is the earliest admissible terminus) and subtracting 240 + 7\nyears (Hdt. iv, 14 fin.) we should arrive at the year 434. This,\nhowever, cannot possibly have been meant by Hdt. as the year of the\nmiraculous presence of Aristeas in Metapontum. We seem to have one\nof Hdt.'s errors of calculation to which he is prone. We cannot\nindeed make out when exactly he intended to date the various scenes\nof the Aristeas story.--In any case, Hdt. never intended to make\nAristeas the teacher of Homer, as Bergk following others thinks. He\nmakes Homer's _flor._ about 856: see _Rh. Mus._ 36, 397; and puts\nthe Kimmerian invasion much later. Aristeas could only be regarded\nas teacher of Homer (Str. 639; Tat. _Gr._ 41) by those who made\nHomer a contemporary of the Kimmerian invasion, Thpomp. esp.: see\n_Rh. Mus._ 36, 559.--We do not know what grounds those Chronologists\nhad who made Aristeas contemp. with Kroisos and Kyros and put his\n_flor._ in Ol. 58, 3 (Suid.). The reason may possibly have been\n\"identification\"--this is hardly likely--\"or conjunction with\nAbaris\" (Gutschmid ap. Niese, _Hom. Schiffskat._, p. 49, n.).\nUnfortunately nothing is known of such a conjunction with Abaris\n(very problematical conjectures by Crusius in _Myth. Lex._ i, 2814\nf.). Possibly those who favoured this view held that the\n~Arima/speia~ had been foisted upon Aristeas; cf. D. H., _Thuc._ 23;\n~p. hu/psous~, 10, 4. This work was certainly regarded as having\nbeen composed at the time of the Kim. invasion. The historical\nreality of Aristeas was never doubted in antiquity and in spite of\nthe many legends that gathered about his name there is no need for\nus to do so. The stories of Aristeas' extremely prolonged lifetime\n(from the {330} Kim. invasion to the evidently much later period in\nwhich he really lived) appear to have been derived chiefly from\nfictions in the ~Arima/speia~ which probably also gave reasons of a\nmysterious kind for this marvellous extension of his existence. We\ncannot tell whether Aristeas himself wrote the poem and provided his\nown halo of marvel or whether someone else, coming later, made use\nof this name so famous in legend. If there was any basis for the\naccount in Suid. ~Pei/sandros Pei/s\u00f4nos~ fin. we might be justified\nin attributing the composition of the ~Arima/speia~ to Aristeas\nhimself. In any case the poem was already in existence at the\nbeginning of the fifth century: it can hardly be doubted that\nAeschylus modelled upon it his picture of the griffins and Arimaspoi\nin _Pr._ 803 ff.]\n\n[111\\9: Dexikreon in Samos, Plu., _Q. Gr._ 54.--Polyaratos of\nThasos, Phormion of Sparta: Cl. Al., _Str._ i, 21, p. 399 P.\nPhormion is better known because of his marvellous experiences:\nPaus. 3, 16, 2-3; Thpomp. ap. Suid. ~Phor.~: see Meineke, _Com._^2,\np. 1227 ff.--At the end of the above-mentioned enumeration of\n~ma/nteis~ ap. Clem. Al., a certain ~Empedo/timos ho Surako/sios~ is\ngiven. Varro ap. Serv. on _G._ i, 34, tells of the ecstatic vision\nof this Empedotimos: after being a quadam potestate divina mortalis\naspectus detersus he saw in the sky _inter cetera_ three gates and\nthree ways (to the gods and the kingdom of the dead). Varro is\nevidently quoting the account of some ancient authority not a work\nof Empedot. himself; but in any case this vision is the source of\nwhat Empedotimos had to say about the dwelling-place of the souls in\nthe Milky Way: Suid. ~Emped., Iouliano/s~: _Rh. Mus._ 32, 331, n. 1;\ncf. Damasc. ap. Philop. _in Arist. Meteor._, p. 117, 10 Hayd. Suid.\n~Emped.~ calls (probably a guess) the work in which Empedot. gave an\naccount of his visions ~peri\\ phusik\u00ea=s akroa/se\u00f4s~. (Because E.\nalso brought back with him information about the future life, the\nusual stories about the subterranean chamber, etc., are transferred\nto him by Sch. ad Greg. Nz., _C._ vii, 286 = Eudocia, p. 682, 15.)\nApart from this no one gives us any information about the\npersonality of Emped. except Jul., _Ep._ 295 B., p. 379, 13 ff. H.,\nwho tells us how he was murdered but the gods avenged him upon his\nmurderers. This, however, rests upon a confusion (either Julian's or\nhis copyist's) with ~Hermo/timos~ whose murderers were punished in\nthe next world acc. to Plu., _Gen. Socr._ 22, p. 592 C. The\nabove-mentioned story of the souls and the Milky Way was also known\nto Julian (see Suid. ~Ioul.~): his source being Herakleides Pont.\n(who also probably supplied it to others, e.g. Noumenios ap. Procl.\n_in _Rp.__ ii, p. 129 Kroll, Porph., Iamb. ap. Stob., _Ecl._ i, p.\n378, 12 W., and even earlier, Cicero, _Somn._ 15-16). No older\nsource of this fancy is known: \"Pythagoras\" mentioned as its\nauthority by Julian, etc., only takes us back again to Herakleides.\nAll that we know up to the present about it suggests the suspicion\nthat the very existence and history of this remarkably little-known\n\"great Empedotimos\" may have been a simple _invention_ of\nHerakleides', who may have made use of him in one of his dialogues\nto add interest and importance to some of his own fancies. But now\nwe come upon something more detailed about the story told by\nHerakleides of the vision in which Emped. (~meta\\ tou= s\u00f4/matos~, p.\n122, 2) beheld ~pa=san t\u00ea\\n peri\\ t\u00f4=n psuch\u00f4=n al\u00eathei/an~: Procl.\n_in _Rp.__ ii, 119, 21 Kroll. From this passage it is quite clear\nthat Empedotimos is simply a figure in a dialogue by Herakleides,\nand no more existed in reality than Er the son of Armenios or\nThespesios of Soli, or than their prototype Kleonymos of Athens ap.\nKlearchos of Soli (_Rh. Mus._ 32, 335).] {331}\n\n[112\\9: Apollon., _Mirab._ 3 (prob. from Thpomp.); Plin., _NH._ vii,\n174; Plu., _Gen. Soc._ 22, p. 592 C (~Hermo/d\u00f4ros~--the same\ncopyist's error occurs in Procl. _in _Rp.__ ii, 113, 24 Kroll);\nLuc., _Enc. Musc._ 7; Tert., _An._ 2; 44 (from Soranos; cf. Cael.\nAur., _Tard._ 1, 3, 5); Or., _Cels._ iii, 3; 32. The same Hermotimos\nof Klazomenai is undoubtedly the person meant when a ~Hermo/timos~\nis mentioned among the earlier incarnations of the soul of\nPythagoras, even when the country of the person in question is not\nnamed (as in D.L. viii, 5 f.; Porph., _VP._ 45; Tert., _An._ 28) or\nis incorrectly called a Milesian (e.g. in Hipp., _RH._ 1, 2, p. 12\nD.-S.). A quite untenable theory about this Hermot. is given by\nG\u00f6ttling, _Opusc. Ac._ 211.--Acc. to Plin. the enemies who finally\nburnt the body of Hermot. (with the connivance of his wife) were the\nCantharidae--probably the name of a ~ge/nos~ hostile to\nHermot.--There is a remarkably similar story in Indian tradition:\nsee _Rh. Mus._ 26, 559 n. But I no longer suspect any historical\nconnexion between this story and that of Hermot.; the same\npreconceptions have led in India as in Greece to the invention of\nthe same tale. Similar conceptions in German beliefs: Grimm, 1803,\nn. 650.]\n\n[113\\9: Hence the legend that Apollo after the murder of Python was\npurified not at Tempe, as the story generally went, but in Krete at\nTarrha by Karmanor: Paus. 2, 7, 7; 2, 30, 3; 10, 6, 7 (the\nhexameters of Phemono\u00eb); 10, 16, 5. The ~katha/rsia~ for Zeus were\nbrought from Krete: Orph. _fr._ 183 Ab.; cf. the oracle ap. Oinom.\nEus., _PE._ 5, 31, 2: K. O. M\u00fcller, _Introd. Scient. Myth._\n98.--Krete an ancient seat of _mantik\u00ea_: the Lokrian Onomakritos,\nteacher of Thaletas, lived in Krete ~kata\\ te/chn\u00ean mantik\u00ea/n~,\nArist., _Pol._ 1274_a_, 25.]\n\n[114\\9: See above (pp. 96 f). As one who had been initiated into the\norgiastic cult of Zeus in Krete (Str. 468), Epimenides is called\n~ne/os Kou/r\u00eas~: Plu., _Sol._ 12; D.L. i, 115. He is called\n~hiereu\\s Dio\\s kai\\ Rhe/as~ in Sch. Clem. Al. iv, p. 103 Klotz.]\n\n[115\\9: Legend of the ~a/limon~ of E.: H. Smyrn. 18. D.L. i, 114.\nPlu. _7 Sap._ 14. He was prepared for it by living on ~aspho/delos,\nmala/ch\u00ea~ and the edible root of a kind of ~ski/lla~ (Thphr., _HP._\n7, 12, 1). All these are sacred to the ~chtho/nioi~ (on\n~aspho/delos~, see partic. _AB._ 457, 5 ff., which goes back to\nAristarchos; and Hsch. s.v.), and were only eaten occasionally by\nthe poor: Hes., _Op._ 41.]\n\n[116\\9: ~hou= (Epimeni/dou) lo/gos h\u00f4s exi/oi h\u00ea psuch\u00ea\\ ho/poson\n\u00ea/thele chro/non kai\\ pa/lin eis\u00ea/|ei en t\u00f4=| s\u00f4/mati~, Suid.\n~Epimen.~ This is possibly the meaning of ~prospoi\u00eath\u00ea=nai (le/getai)\npolla/kis anabebi\u00f4ke/nai~, D.L. i, 114. Epimenides like others\n~meta\\ tha/naton en toi=s z\u00f4=si geno/menos~, Procl. _in _Rp.__ ii,\n113, 24 Kr. The story of his prolonged sleep in the cave is an\nexample of a widespread fairy-tale motif; see _Rh. Mus._ 33, 209, n.\n2; 35, 160. In the case of Epimenides it has been exaggerated beyond\nall bounds and attached to him as a sort of popular mode of\nexpressing his long ~eksta/seis~. This cave-sleep is interpreted as\na state of _ekstasis_ by Max. Tyr. 16, 1: ~en tou= Dio\\s tou=\nDiktai/ou~ (see above, chap. iii, n. 23) ~t\u00f4=| a/ntr\u00f4| kei/menos\nhu/pn\u00f4| bathei= e/t\u00ea suchna/~ (cf. the ~psuch\u00ea/~ of Hermot. which\n~apo\\ tou= s\u00f4/matos plazome/n\u00ea apod\u00eamei= epi\\ polla\\ e/t\u00ea~,\nApollon., _Mir._ 3) ~o/nar e/ph\u00ea entuchei=n auto\\s theoi=s ktl.~\nThus his ~o/neiros~ became ~dida/skalos~ to him, Max. Tyr. 38, 3;\ncf. Sch. Luc., _Tim._ 6, 110 Rb.]\n\n[117\\9: ~sopho\\s peri\\ ta\\ thei=a (deino\\s ta\\ thei=a~, Max. Tyr.\n38, 3) ~t\u00ea\\n _enthousiastik\u00ea\\n_ sophi/an~, Plu., _Sol._ 12. Epimen.\nis put among the ~e/ntheoi ma/nteis~, Bakis and the Sibyl, by Cic.,\n_Div._ 1, 34.--Prolonged solitude is a preparation for the business\nof the ecstatic seer (cf. Plu.'s story of a sort of counterpart to\nEpimenides, _Def. Or._ 21, p. 421 B). There {332} is still another\nfragment remaining from the story of Epim. on this head in the\naccount given by Theopompos (though he makes too rationalistic a use\nof it): Epim. did not sleep all that time ~alla\\ chro/non tina\\\n_ekpat\u00ea=sai_, ascholou/menon peri\\ rhizotomi/an~ (which he needed as\nan ~iatro/mantis~); D.L. i, 112. We cannot help being reminded of\nthe way in which the Angekok of Greenland, after prolonged and\nprofound solitude, severe fasting and concentration of thought,\nmakes himself into a magician (Cranz, _Hist. of Greenland_, p. 194).\nIn the same way the North American Indian stays for weeks in a\nsolitary wood and consciously prepares himself for his visions. At\nlast the real world falls away from him, the imagined world of his\nvisions becomes the real one and seems almost palpable; till finally\nin complete ecstasy he rushes out of his hiding place. Nor would it\nbe hard to find analogies in the religion of civilized peoples.]\n\n[118\\9: Epim. is credited with prophecies of coming events: Pl.,\n_Lg._ 642 D; D.L. i, 114, and also Cic., _Div._ i, 34. On the other\nhand, Arist., _Rh._ 3, 17, 10, has ~peri\\ t\u00f4=n esome/n\u00f4n ouk\nemanteu/eto, alla\\ peri\\ t\u00f4=n gegono/t\u00f4n me\\n ad\u00ea/l\u00f4n de/~ which at\nleast means discovering the grounds of an event--grounds known only\nto the god and the seer; e.g. the interpretation of a pestilence as\nthe vengeance of the daimones for an ancient crime, etc. If only\nrational explanation were meant there would be no need for a\n~ma/ntis~.]\n\n[119\\9: Delos: Plu., _Sept. Sap._ 14, p. 158 A. (There is no need to\nsuppose that there has been any confusion between this ~me/gas\nkatharmo/s~ by Epimenides and any other purification of Delos that\nhappens to be better known to us--the Pisistratean or that of the\nyear 426.) Epimenides ~po/leis eka/th\u00earen a/llas te kai\\ t\u00ea\\n\nAth\u00eanai/\u00f4n~, Paus. 1, 14, 4.]\n\n[120\\9: The purification of Athens from the Kylonian ~a/gos~ by\nEpimenides is now further confirmed by the Aristotelian ~Ath. pol.~\n1 fin. This admittedly is not a very strong guarantee of its\nhistorical truth; but no strong guarantee is required to dispose of\nthe doubts recently raised as to the historical truth of the story\nthat Athens was purified by Epimenides, and even of Epimenides' very\nexistence. There is no reason at all for such a doubt. The fact that\nthe historical figure of Epimenides has been almost entirely\nobscured behind the veil of fable and romance gives us of course no\nright to doubt his existence (or what would be the fate of\nPythagoras, Pherekydes of Syros, and of many others?); and further,\nbecause some parts of the story of Epim. and his life are fabulous,\nto doubt the truth of his entirely non-fabulous purification of the\nAthenians from murder is a monstrous inversion of true historical\nmethod.--No exact dating for the purification of Athens is to be\nderived from the Aristotelian account of the event, as the English\ned. (Kenyon) of the ~Ath. pol.~ rightly observes. It certainly does\nnot follow (as e.g. Bauer takes for granted in his _Forsch. zu\nArist._ ~Ath. pol.~ 41) that the purification took place _before_\nthe archonship of Drakon (Ol. 39). Furthermore, it is probable that\nin Plu., _Sol._ 12, everything that comes before ~tou\\s ho/rous~ (p.\n165, 19, Sint. ed. min.) is taken from Aristotle (though perhaps not\ndirectly). In this case Aristotle, too, would be shown to have\nattributed to Solon the first suggestion that led to the\ncondemnation of the ~enagei=s~. In Plu., however, Solon is still far\nfrom having thoughts of his ~nomothesi/a~, he is still only ~\u00ea/d\u00ea\ndo/xan e/ch\u00f4n~ c. 12 (not till c. 14 does his archonship begin).\nSolon's archonship is put by ~Ath. pol.~ in the year 591/0 (c. 14,\n1, where we should be careful to avoid arbitrary alteration of the\nfigures); Suid. ~So/l\u00f4n~, Eus., _Chron._ also date it in Ol. 47, and\nthe same period is implied by Plu., _Sol._ 14, p. 168, 12. (~Ath.\nPol.~ {333} 13, 2, also brings the first archonship of Damasias to\n582/1 = Ol. 49, 3: a date to which all other reliable tradition also\npoints). The condemnation of the ~enagei=s~ and the purification of\nAthens by Epimenides thus took place some considerable time before\n591. It is possible that Suid. gives the right date. s.v.\n~Epimeni/d\u00eas; eka/th\u00eare ta\\s Ath\u00ea/nas tou= Kul\u00f4nei/ou a/gous kata\\\nt\u00ea\\n [=]m[=]d Olumpia/da~ (604/1)--that in the Kirrhaian war there\nwas an ~Alkmai/\u00f4n~ general of the Athenians offers no objection:\nPlu., _Sol._ 11. Suidas' statement has not (as I once thought\nmyself, with Bernhardy) been taken from D.L., nor is it to be\ncorrected acc. to his text. D.L. i, 100, only brings forward the\nconnexion between the purification and the ~Kul\u00f4/neion a/gos~ as the\nopinion of \"some\" (which in spite of the vagueness of expression\nmust mean Neanthes ap. Ath. 602 C), while the real reason is said to\nbe a ~loimo/s~, and the purification (as in Eus. _Chr._) is placed\nin Ol. 46; i.e. probably 46, 3, the traditional date of Solon's\nlegislation.--Plato, _Lg._ 642 DE, does not conflict with the story\nof the expiation of the ~Kul. a/gos~ by Epimenides: his story that\nEpimen. was present in Athens in the year 500 and retarded the\nthreatened Persian invasion for ten years is not intended to contest\nthe truth of the tradition of the much earlier purification of\nAthens by Epimen. (\"retarded\": so Clem. Al., _Str._ vi, 13, p. 755\nP., understood Plato and prob. rightly; we often hear in legendary\nstories of the gods or their prophets retarding coming events which\nhave been determined by fate; cf. Pl., _Smp._ 201 D; Hdt. i, 91;\nAth. 602 B; Eus., _PE._ 5, 35, p. 233 BC; Vg., _A._ vii, 313 ff.;\nviii, 398 f.; and what Serv. ad loc. reports from the _libri\nAcheruntici_). How the same man could be living both at the end of\nthe seventh and of the sixth centuries would have troubled Plato not\nat all--tradition attributed a miraculously long life to Ep. At any\nrate, it is quite impossible to base the chronology of Ep.'s life on\nthe story in Plato. (It may have been suggested by a forged oracle\nmade ex eventu after 490 and fathered on Epim., as Schultess\nsuggests, _De Epim. Crete_, p. 47, 1877.)]\n\n[121\\9: Details of the expiation ceremonies: D.L. i, 111-12;\nNeanthes ap. Ath. 602 C. It is not the human sacrifice but the\nsentimental interpretation of Neanth. that Polemon (Ath. 602 F.)\ndeclares to be fictitious. They are invariably sacrifices to the\n~chtho/nia~ that Epim. institutes. Thus (as Abaris founded a temple\nat Sparta for ~Ko/r\u00ea s\u00f4/teira~) he founded at Athens, evidently as\nthe concluding part of the purification, ~ta\\ hiera\\ t\u00f4=n semn\u00f4=n\nthe\u00f4=n~, i.e. of the Erinyes: D.L. i, 112.]\n\n[122\\9: Such a connexion must at least be intended when Aristeas is\nbrought to Metapontum and Phormion to Kroton, both important centres\nof the Pythagorean society. Aristeas, too, as well as Abaris,\nEpimenides, etc., is one of the favourite figures of the\nPythagoreans: see Iamb., _VP._ 138.]\n\n[123\\9: It would certainly be necessary to deny to Epimenides the\n\"Theogony\" that the whole of antiquity read and quoted under the\nname of Epimenides without once expressing a doubt, if the figments\nof that Theogony really contained borrowings from the teaching of\nAnaximenes or, even worse, from the rhapsodical Theogony of Orpheus,\nas Kern, _de Orphei Ep. Pher. Theog._ 66 ff. maintains. But in the\nfirst place a few vague resemblances are not enough to show any\nconnexion between Epimenides and those others. In the second,\nsupposing the connexion proved, Epimenides need not necessarily have\nbeen the borrower. In any case, such alleged borrowings do not\noblige us to advance the period when Ep. lived from the end of {334}\nthe seventh to the end of the sixth century. If they really exist\nthen we should rather have to conclude that the Theogony is itself a\nforgery of a much later date.]\n\n[124\\9: The possibility of theoretical activity in the case of these\nmen is often implied in the statements of later writers; e.g. when\nthe name is given to Epimenides (D.S. 5, 80, 4) or Abaris (Apollon.,\n_Mir._ 4); or when Aristeas is called an ~an\u00ea\\r philo/sophos~ (Max.\nTyr. 38, 3, p. 222 R.).]\n\n[125\\9: Arist., _Meta._ 1, 3, p. 948_b_, 19 f.]\n\n[126\\9: See Append. viii.]\n\n[127\\9: See above, chap. i, n. 41. Archiloch. _fr._ 12: ~kei/nou\nkephal\u00ea\\n kai\\ chari/enta me/l\u00ea H\u00ea/phaistos _katharoi=sin_ en\nhei/masin amphepon\u00ea/th\u00ea~. E., _Or._ 40 f.: the slain Klytaimnestra\n~puri\\ _kath\u00ea/gnistai_ de/mas~ and Sch. ~pa/nta ga\\r kathairei= to\\\npu=r, kai\\ hagna\\ dokei= ei=nai ta\\ kaio/mena, ta\\ de\\ a/tapha\nmemiasme/na~. E., _Sup._ 1211: ~. . . hi/n' aut\u00f4=n~ (those who are\nbeing buried) ~s\u00f4/math' h\u00eagni/sth\u00ea puri/~; cf. ~ha/gnison purs\u00f4=|\nme/lathron~, _IT._ 1216. On a grave inscr. from Attica (_Epigr. Gr._\n104): ~entha/de Dia/logos kathar\u00f4=| puri\\ gui=a kath\u00ea/ras . . .\n\u00f4/|chet' es atha/natous~--evidently modelled on ancient ideas; cf.\nalso ib. 109, 5 (_CIA._ iii, 1325). Those, too, who are struck by\nlightning (see Appendix i) are purified from all earthly taint by the\nholiest sort of ~pu=r katha/rsion~ (E., _IA._ 1112; ~katharsi/\u00f4|\nphlogi/~, E., _Hel._ 869) and go straight ~pro\\s athana/tous~.\nIamb., _Myst._ v, 12, also explains how fire ~ta\\ prosago/mena\nkathai/rei kai\\ apolu/ei t\u00f4=n en t\u00ea=| hu/l\u00ea| desm\u00f4=n, aphomoioi=\ntoi=s theoi=s~, etc.]\n\n[128\\9: Cf. also Pl., _Lg._ 677 DE; Plu., _Fac. Orb. Lun._ 25, p.\n940 C.]\n\n\n{{335}}\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nTHE ORPHICS\n\n\nThe earliest authority who mentions Orphic sects and their practices\nis Herodotos (ii, 81), who calls attention to the correspondence\nbetween certain sacerdotal and ascetic ordinances of the Egyptian\npriesthood, and the \"Orphic and Bacchic\" mysteries. The latter, he\nsays, are really Egyptian and Pythagorean, or in other words they\nwere founded by Pythagoras or Pythagoreans upon Egyptian models; and\nthus, in the opinion of the historian, they cannot have come into\nexistence before the last decade of the sixth century. Herodotos\nthen, either in Athens or elsewhere, had heard during his journeys\nof certain private societies who by calling themselves after the\nname of Orpheus, the prototype of Thracian song so well known to\nlegend, recognized the origin of their peculiar cult and creed in\nthe mountains of Thrace, and did honour to Bakchos the Thracian god.\nThe fact that the Greek Orphics did indeed worship Dionysos, the\nlord of life and death, before all other gods, is clearly shown by\nthe remains of the theological poems that originated in their midst.\nOrpheus himself, as founder of the Orphic sect, is actually said to\nhave been the founder also of the Dionysiac\ninitiation-mysteries.[1\\10]\n\nThis gathering-together in the name of Orpheus for the purpose of\noffering a special worship to Dionysos was, then, the work of\n_sects_ who, in private association, practised a cult which the\npublic and official worship of the state either did not know of or\ndisdained. There were many such associations, and of very varied\ncharacter, which kept themselves aloof from the organized religion\nof the community, and were tolerated by the state.[2\\10] As a rule,\nthey were \"foreign gods\"[3\\10] who were thus worshipped; and\ngenerally by foreigners who thus kept up the special worship of\ntheir own homes, though they did not always exclude natives of their\nadopted country. Now, Dionysos, the god of the Orphic sects, had for\na long time ceased to be a foreigner in Greek countries; since his\narrival from Thrace he had been refined and matured under the\nhumanizing sun of Greece, until he had become a Greek god, and a\nworthy associate of the Greek Olympos. It is possible, however, that\nin this process, the old Thracian god may have seemed to his\noriginal worshippers to have lost his real {336} character, and they\nmay on that account have joined together to offer, in separation\nfrom the official worship, a special cult in which all the old ideas\nof the national religion should be preserved unaltered. A secondary\nwave of influence thus broke upon the long-since-Hellenized god, the\nThracian Dionysos in Greece, and _this_ wave the official worship\neither had not the power or lacked the will to assimilate. It was\ntherefore left to special sects who honoured the god after their own\nprivate laws. Whether indeed they were _Thracians_ who, as in the\nsimilar case of the unmodified worship of Bendis,[4\\10] or Kotytto,\nthus reinstituted their ancient and national worship of Dionysos in\nGreek countries, we cannot with certainty tell; but this special\ncult would certainly not have achieved the importance it did in\n_Greek_ life if it had not been joined by Greek adherents brought up\nin the native conceptions of Greek piety, who under the name of\n\"Orphics\" once more adapted the Thracian god to Greek modes of\nthought--though this new adaptation differed from the previous\nassimilation of the god by the official worship of the state. We\nhave no reason for believing that Orphic sects were formed in Greek\nstates before the second half of the sixth century,[5\\10] that\ncritical age of transition when in so many places primitive and\nmythological modes of thought were developing into a _theosophy_,\nwhich in its turn was making an effort to become a philosophy. The\nOrphic religious poetry is itself clearly marked by this effort--for\nin Orphism it never became more than an effort and never succeeded\nin reaching its goal.\n\nThe exact point of origin of this combined movement of religion and\ntheosophy, the various steps and manner of its development remain\nhidden from us. Athens was a centre of Orphism; it does not\ntherefore follow that Orphism had its origin there, any more than\nhad the multifarious tendencies and activities in art, poetry, and\nscience that at about the same period flowed together, and as though\ndriven by an unseen intellectual current, found their meeting place\nat Athens. Onomakritos, we are told, the giver of oracles in the\ncourt of Peisistratos \"founded the secret worship of\nDionysos\".[6\\10] This appears to refer to the first founding of an\nOrphic sect at Athens; and we meet with the name of Onomakritos\namong the authors of Orphic poems. But the real authorship of these\npoems is far more often ascribed to certain men of Southern Italy\nand Sicily, who can be more or less clearly connected[7\\10] with the\nPythagorean societies which were flourishing in those districts\nabout the last decades of the sixth and the first of the fifth\ncenturies. {337}\n\nIt seems certain that in Southern Italy at that time, Orphic\nsocieties were already in existence--for whom else can these writers\nhave intended their \"Orphic\" poems? In any case we must take it as\ncertain that the correspondence of Orphic and Pythagorean doctrine\non the subject of the soul is not purely accidental. Did Pythagoras\nwhen he came to Italy (about 532) find Orphic societies already\nsettled in Kroton and Metapontum, and did he associate himself with\ntheir ideas? Or did the \"Orphic\" sectaries (as Herodotos\nimagined[8\\10]) owe their inspiration to Pythagoras and his\ndisciples? The various cross-currents of reciprocal influence can no\nlonger be disentangled by us, but if the Pythagoreans were the sole\ncreditors in the bargain we should undoubtedly find the whole body\nof Orphic doctrine thoroughly permeated with conceptions that belong\nexclusively to the Pythagorean school. In the wreckage of the Orphic\npoems, however, except for a few negligible traces of the\nPythagorean mystic theory of numbers,[9\\10] we find nothing that\nmust necessarily have been derived by the Orphics from Pythagorean\nsources.[10\\10] Least of all did they need to derive the doctrine of\nthe migration of souls and its application from this source. It is\npossible, therefore, that it was the independently developed Orphic\ndoctrine which exerted an influence upon Pythogoras and his\nadherents in Southern Italy; just as it was a ready-made Orphic\nteaching (and that, too, perhaps, brought from Southern Italy) with\nwhich Onomakritos, the founder of the Orphic sects at Athens,\nassociated himself--about the same time as Pythagoras' similar\naction in Kroton. It is hardly possible to interpret in any other\nway the various relations of the Orphics with each other when we\nlearn that at the court of the Peisistratids, in addition to\nOnomakritos, two other men who had arrived from Southern Italy were\nactive and were counted among the earliest writers of Orphic\npoems.[11\\10]\n\n\u00a7 2\n\nThe Orphics wherever we meet with them in Greek countries always\nappear as members of a private cult-society who are held together by\na specially organized and individual mode of worship. The old\nThracian worship of Dionysos in its straining after the infinite\nconducted its revels under the open sky of night, seeking out\ndeserted mountain-sides and forests where it was farthest from\ncivilization and closest to unspoiled and untrammelled nature. How\nthis cult may have accommodated itself to the narrow limitations of\nordinary {338} city-life, it is hard to imagine;[12\\10] though it is\nnatural to suppose that much of the extravagance that was literal\nand actual enough in the old northern festival of night was\nrepresented in the milder worship of Greece by mere symbol. We have\nless difficulty in discovering the side of their religious activity\nwhich the Orphics, apart from the private worship of the\nconventicle, revealed to the outer world of the profane. Orpheus\nhimself in the tradition had been not merely the inspired singer but\nthe seer, the magically endowed physician and purification-priest as\nwell,[13\\10] and the Orphics, as his followers, were active, too, in\nall these directions.[14\\10] In the composition of Greek Orphism the\nkathartic ideas which had been evolved on Greek soil were combined\nin a not unnatural alliance with the old Thracian worship of\nDionysos. The Orphic priests of purification were preferred to\nothers of their kind by many religious people.[15\\10] But among the\ninner circles of Orphism the sacerdotal activities of purification\nand the removal of daimonic hindrances, which were by no means given\nup, tended rather to produce deeper and broader ideas of purity and\nof release from the earthly and the transitory. In some such way was\nevolved that asceticism which in close combination with the Thracian\nworship of Dionysos gave the peculiar tone to the faith and\ntemperament of the sectaries and gave to their lives their special\ndirection.\n\nThe Orphic sect had a fixed and definite set of doctrines; this\nalone sufficed to distinguish it both from the official worships of\nthe state, and from all other cult-associations of the time. The\nreduction of belief to distinct doctrinal formul\u00e6 may have done more\nthan anything else to make Orphism a _society_ of believers--none of\nthe other _theologi_ of the time, Epimenides, Pherekydes, etc.,\naccomplished as much. Without its fundamental religious doctrine\nOrphism in Greece is inconceivable; according to Aristotle the\n\"doctrines\" of Orpheus were put into poetical form by the founder of\nthe Orphic sect in Athens, Onomakritos.[16\\10] The uncertain\naccounts given us by the later authorities do not allow us to make\nout quite clearly[17\\10] what was the extent of Onomakritos' work in\nthe formation or collection of Orphic doctrinal poetry. What is\nimportant is the fact that he is distinctly named as the author of\nthe poem called \"Initiations\".[18\\10] This poem must have been one\nof the basic, and in the strictest sense \"religious\", writings of\nthe sect; a poem of this character may very well have had for its\ncentral incident the dismemberment of the god at the hands of the\nTitans--a story which Onomakritos is said to have put into\nverse.[19\\10] {339}\n\nThe religious beliefs and worship of the sect were founded upon the\ndetailed instructions of certain very numerous writings dealing with\nmatters of ritual and theology. These claimed the authority of\nreligious inspiration,[20\\10] and were as a whole supposed to be the\nwork of the primitive Thracian bard, Orpheus, himself. The anonymity\nwhich concealed the identity of the real authors of these poems was\nnot, however, very thoroughly preserved; even towards the end of the\nfourth century there were those who claimed to be able to give with\ncertainty the names of the original authors of the various poems.\nStrictly canonical authority, such as would at once have reduced to\nsilence every conflicting view or statement, never seems to have\nbelonged to any of these writings. In particular, there were several\n\"Theogonies\"[21\\10]--poems which attempted to give expression to the\nfundamental ideas of Orphic speculation on religious subjects--and\nin spite of much harmony in general effect they differed\nconsiderably from each other in particular mode of expression. They\nrepresented ever-renewed and increasingly elaborate attempts to\nconstruct a connected doctrinal system for Orphism. With\nunmistakable allusion to the oldest Greek theological system--that\nwhich had been committed to writing in the Hesiodic poem--these\nOrphic Theogonies described the origin and development of the world\nfrom obscure primordial impulses to the clear and distinct\nvariety-in-unity of the organized kosmos, and it described it as the\nhistory of a long series of divine powers and figures which issue\nfrom each other (each new one overcoming the last) and succeed each\nother in the task of building and organizing the world until they\nhave absorbed the whole universe into themselves in order to bring\nit forth anew, animated with one spirit and, with all its infinite\nvariety, a unity. These gods are certainly no longer deities of the\nfamiliar Greek type. Not merely the new gods evolved by the creative\nfancy of Orphism--creatures which had almost entirely lost all\ndistinct and sensible outline under the accumulation of symbolical\nmeaning--but even the figures actually borrowed from the Greek world\nof divinities are turned into little more than mere personified\nabstractions. Who would recognize the Zeus of Homer in the Orphic\nZeus who after he has devoured the World-God and \"taken unto himself\nthe power of Erikapaios\",[22\\10] has become himself the Universe and\nthe Whole? \"Zeus the Beginning, Zeus the Middle, in Zeus all things\nare completed.\"[23\\10] The concept here so stretches the personality\nthat it threatens to break it down altogether; the outlines of the\nindividual figures are {340} lost and are merged into an intentional\n\"confusion of deities\".[24\\10]\n\nStill, the mythical envelope was never quite given up; these poets\ncould not do without it altogether. Their gods did indeed strive to\nbecome pure abstractions but they were never quite successful in\nthrowing off all traces of individuality and the limitations of form\nand matter: the concept never quite broke through the veil of\nmythology. The poets of the Orphic Theogonies vied with one another\nin their attempts to make the half-seen and half-conceived\naccessible alike to the imagination and the reason; and in\nsuccession gave varying expression to the same fundamental\nconceptions until finality was reached as it seems in a poem whose\ncontents are better known to us than the others from quotations made\nfrom it by Neoplatonic writers--the Theogonical poem of the\nfour-and-twenty Rhapsodies. Into this poem was poured all the\ntraditional material of mythological and symbolical doctrine, and in\nit such doctrine achieved its final expression.[25\\10]\n\n\u00a7 3\n\nThis combination of religion and quasi-philosophical speculation was\na distinguishing feature of the Orphics and of Orphic literature.\nReligion only entered into their Theogonical poetry in so far as the\nethical personalities of the divinities therein described had not\nentirely faded away into transparent allegories.[26\\10] It was\nabstract speculation alone which really prevailed there, little\nrespect being paid to religion; and as a result a much greater\nlicence was given to speculative construction.\n\nThis abstract speculation, however, reached its climax in a\nreligious narrative of the first importance for the beliefs and cult\nof the sect. At the end of the series of genealogically connected\ndeities came the son of Zeus and Persephone, Dionysos, who was also\ngiven the name of the underworld deity Zagreus.[27\\10] To him, even\nin infancy, was entrusted the rule of the world by Zeus. But the\nwicked Titans, urged on by Hera, approached him by a stratagem. They\nwere the enemies of Zeus, and had already been overthrown by\nOuranos,[28\\10] but had, it seems, been let loose again by Zeus from\nTartaros. They made Dionysos trust them by giving him presents, and\nwhile he was looking at his own image in a mirror[29\\10] that they\nhad given him, they fell upon him. He tried to escape them by\nrepeated transformations of shape; finally, in the form of a\nbull,[30\\10] he was at last overcome and his body torn to pieces\nwhich his savage foes thereupon devoured. The heart alone {341} was\nrescued by Athene, and she brought it to Zeus who swallowed it. From\nZeus there sprang the \"new Dionysos\", the son of Zeus and Semele, in\nwhom Zagreus came to life again.\n\nThe myth of the dismemberment of Zagreus by the Titans was already\nput into verse by Onomakritos;[31\\10] it continued to be the\nculminating point of the doctrinal poetry of the Orphics. It\noccurred not only in the Rhapsodies,[32\\10] but in other versions of\nthe Orphic legend composed in complete independence of these.[33\\10]\nIt is a religious myth in the stricter sense; its _\u00e6tioloqical_\ncharacter is most marked;[34\\10] its purpose is to explain the\nreligious implication of the ritual dismemberment of the bull-god at\nthe Bacchic nocturnal festivals, and to derive that feature from the\nlegendary sufferings of Dionysos-Zagreus.\n\nBut though the legend thus has its roots in the primitive\nsacrificial ritual of ancient Thrace,[35\\10] in its extended form it\nbelongs entirely to the region of Hellenic thought; and in this\ncombination of the two elements it becomes truly Orphic. The wicked\nTitans belong entirely to strictly Greek mythology.[36\\10] In this\ncase, as the murderers of the god, they represent the primeval power\nof evil.[37\\10] They dismember the One into Many parts; by their\nimpiety the One divine being is dispersed into the multiplicity of\nthe things of this world.[38\\10] It is reborn as One in the new\nDionysos sprung from Zeus. The Titans--so the legend goes on to\nrelate--who had devoured the limbs of the god were destroyed by Zeus\nwith his lightning flash. From their ashes sprang the race of men in\nwhom, in conformity with their origin, the good derived from\nDionysos-Zagreus is mixed with a wicked Titanic element.[39\\10]\n\nWith the rule of the new-born Dionysos and the origin of mankind,\nthe series of mythological events in the Orphic poetry came to an\nend.[40\\10] With the entry of mankind into Creation[41\\10] the\nexisting period of the world begins; the period of world-revolutions\nis over. The poems now turn to the subject of man and the revelation\nof his fate, his duty and his purpose in the world.\n\n\u00a7 4\n\nThe mixture of the elements that make up the totality of his being\nin itself prescribes for man the direction that his effort shall\ntake. He must free himself from the Titanic element and, thus\npurified, return to the god, a fragment of whom is living in\nhim.[42\\10] The distinction between the Titanic and Dionysiac\nelements in man is an allegorical expression of the popular {342}\ndistinction between body and soul; it also corresponds to a\nprofoundly felt estimate of the relative value of these two sides of\nman's being. According to Orphic doctrine man's duty is to free\nhimself from the chains of the body in which the soul lies fast\nbound like the prisoner in his cell.[43\\10] The soul has a long way,\nhowever, to go before it can find its freedom; it may not by an act\nof violence tear its bonds asunder for itself.[44\\10] The death of\nthe body only frees it for a short while; for the soul must once\nmore suffer imprisonment in a body. After leaving its old body, it\nflutters free in the wind, but a breath of air sends it into a new\nbody again.[45\\10] So it continues its journey, perpetually\nalternating between an unfettered separate existence, and an\never-renewed incarnation--traversing the great \"Circle of Necessity\"\nin which it becomes the life-companion of many bodies both of men\nand beasts. Thus, the \"Wheel of Birth\"[46\\10] seems to return ever\nupon itself in hopeless repetition: in Orphic poetry (and there\nperhaps for the first time occurs the despairing thought of the\nexact repetition of the past; events which have already been lived\nthrough once returning again with the convergence of the same\nattendant circumstances.[47\\10] Thus, Nature, ever reverting to its\nown beginnings, draws men with it in its senseless revolution round\nitself.\n\nBut the soul has a way open for escape from this perpetual\nrecurrence of all things that threatens to close in upon it; it may\nhope \"to escape from the circle and have a respite from\nmisery\".[48\\10] It is formed for blessed freedom, and can at last\ndetach itself from the condition of being it has to endure upon\nearth--a condition unworthy of it. A \"release\" is possible; but man\nin his blindness and thoughtlessness cannot help himself, cannot\neven, when salvation is at hand, turn himself towards it.[49\\10]\n\nSalvation comes from Orpheus and his Bacchic mysteries; Dionysos\nhimself will loose his worshipper from Evil and the unending way of\nmisery. Not his own power, but the grace of the \"releasing gods\" is\nto be the cause of man's liberation.[50\\10] The self-reliance of the\nolder Greece is breaking down; in humility of heart the pious man\nlooks elsewhere for help; he needs the revelation and mediation of\n\"Orpheus the Ruler\"[51\\10] in order to find the way of salvation; he\nmust follow his ordinances of salvation with perfect obedience if he\nis to continue in that way.\n\nIt is not only the sacred mysteries themselves, in the form in which\nOrpheus has ordained them, which prepare for the release; a complete\n\"Orphic life\"[52\\10] must be developed out {343} of them. Asceticism\nis the prime condition of the pious life. This does not mean the\npractice of the respectable bourgeois virtues, nor the discipline\nand moral reformation of a man's character; the height of morality\nis in this case the turning again towards god,[53\\10] and the\nturning away not merely from the weaknesses and errors of earthly\nbeing but from the whole of earthly life itself; renunciation of all\nthat ties man to mortality and the life of the body. The fierce\ndetermination with which the Indian penitent tears away his will\nfrom life, to which every organ in his body clings desperately--for\nthis, indeed, there was no place among the Greeks, the lovers of\nlife--not even among the world-denying ascetics. Abstention from the\neating of flesh was the strongest and most striking species of\nself-denial practised by the Orphic ascetics.[54\\10] Apart from\nthis, they kept themselves in all essentials uncontaminated by\ncertain things and situations which rather suggested to a religious\nsymbolism than actually indicated in themselves attachment to the\nworld of death and transitoriness. The long-standing ordinances of\nthe priestly ritual of purification were taken up and added\nto;[55\\10] but they were also raised to a higher plane. They are no\nlonger intended to free men from the effects of daimonic contacts;\nthe soul itself is made pure by them[56\\10]--pure from the body and\nits polluting association, pure from death and its loathsome\nmastery. In expiation of \"guilt\" the soul is confined within the\nbody,[57\\10] the wages of sin is in this case that life upon earth\nwhich for the soul is death. The whole multiplicity of the universe,\nemptied of its innocent and natural sequence of cause and effect,\nappears to these zealots under the uniform aspect of a correlation\nbetween crime and punishment, between pollution and purification.\nThus, mysticism enters into the closest alliance with kathartic\npractices. The soul which comes from the divine and strives to\nreturn thither, has no other purpose to fulfil upon earth (and\ntherefore no other moral law to obey); it must be free from life\nitself and be pure from all that is earthly.\n\nThe Orphics, moreover, were the only people who could venture among\nthemselves or before strangers to greet each other with the special\nname of the \"Pure\".[58\\10] The first reward of his piety was\nreceived by the initiate of the Orphic mysteries in that\nintermediate region whither men must go after their earthly death.\nWhen a man dies, Hermes leads the \"deathless soul\" into the\nunderworld.[59\\10] Special poems of the Orphic community announced\nthe terrors and delights of the underworld kingdom.[60\\10] What the\nOrphic {344}mystery-priests vouchsafed to their public upon these\nhidden matters--outdoing the promises made in the Eleusinian\nmysteries in coarse appeal to the senses--may have been the most\npopular, but was certainly not the most original feature of Orphic\nteaching.[61\\10] In Hades a judgment awaited the soul--it was no\ninstinctive fancy of the people, but the \"sacred doctrine\"[62\\10] of\nthese sectaries which first introduced and elaborated the idea of\ncompensatory justice in the world of the dead. The impious suffer\npunishment and purgation in the depths of Tartaros;[63\\10] those who\nhave not been made pure by the Orphic mysteries lie in the miry\nPool;[64\\10] \"dreadful things[65\\10] await\" the disdainer of the\nsacred worship. By a conception that is quite unique in ancient\nreligion, participation in the Orphic ceremonial enables the\ndescendant to obtain from the gods \"pardon and purification\" for his\ndeparted ancestors who may be paying the penalty in the next world\nfor the misdeeds of the past.[66\\10] But for the initiate of the\nOrphic mysteries himself who has not merely borne the _narthex_ but\nhas been a true Bakchos,[67\\10] his reward is that he shall obtain a\n\"milder fate\" in the kingdom of the underworld deities whom he has\nrevered on earth, and dwell \"in the fair meadows of deep-running\nAcheron\".[68\\10] The blessed home of refuge no longer lies like the\nHomeric Elysium upon earth, but below in the world of the Souls, for\nonly the released soul reaches there. There, the initiated and\npurified will live in communion with the gods of the nether\nworld[69\\10]--we feel that we are listening to Thracian and not\nGreek conceptions of the ideal when we hear of the \"Banquet of the\nPure\" and the uninterrupted intoxication which they enjoy\nthere.[70\\10]\n\nBut the depths restore the soul at last to the light, for its\nlasting habitation is not below; it stays there only for the\ninterval which separates death from its next rebirth. For the\nreprobate this is a time of punishment and purgation--the Orphics\ncould not distress their hearers with the awful and intolerable idea\nof the _perpetual_ punishment of the damned in Hell; many times over\nthe soul rises again to the light and in continually renewed bodies\nfulfils the cycle of births. For the deeds of its past life it is\nrecompensed in the next life that it lives, and each man must now\nsuffer exactly what he has done to another.[71\\10] So he pays the\npenalty for ancient guilt: the \"thrice-ancient law\"--what thou hast\ndone thou shalt suffer--is thus fulfilled for him in far livelier\nfashion than it could be in any torments of the shadow-world. So\nsurely also shall the pure be rewarded in future lives by\never-increasing happiness. How exactly the Orphic fancy filled out\nthe {345} individual gradations in the scale of happiness is beyond\nour knowledge.[72\\10]\n\nBut the soul is immortal, and even sinners and the unredeemed cannot\nperish entirely. Hades and the life on earth holds them in their\nperpetual round, and this is their punishment. For the soul of the\nblessed, however, neither Hades nor earthly life can offer the\nhighest crown of happiness. If it has been made pure and spotless in\nthe Orphic mysteries and the Orphic manner of life, it is freed from\nthe necessity of rebirth and withdrawn from the cycle of becoming\nand perishing. The \"purification\" ends in a final redemption. The\nsoul mounts upwards from the base level of earthly life, not to\nbecome nothing in a final death, for it is now that it first truly\nbegins to live; hitherto it has lain imprisoned in the body like the\ncorpse in the grave.[73\\10] It was death for the soul when it\nentered into life--now it is free and will no more suffer death; it\nlives for ever like God, for it comes from God and is itself divine.\nWe do not know whether these theosophists went so far as to lose\nthemselves in detailed picturing and contemplation of the blissful\nheights of the divine life.[74\\10] In the remains of their poems we\nread of stars and the moon as other worlds,[75\\10] perhaps as the\ndwelling-place of illuminated spirits.[76\\10] But perhaps also the\npoet allowed the soul to flee from its last contact with mortality\nwithout himself desiring to follow it into the unbroken radiance of\ndivinity that no earthly eye can abide.\n\n\u00a7 5\n\nThis, then, is the keystone that completes the arch of Orphic\nreligion--the belief in the divine, immortal, and abiding life of\nthe soul for whom union with the body and its desires is a thwarting\nhindrance and repression--a punishment from which its one desire, as\nsoon as it is awakened to a full knowledge of itself is to escape in\norder that it may belong entirely to itself in full enjoyment of its\npowers. The contrast between these ideas and those of the Homeric\nworld is complete; _there_, the soul released from the body was\ncredited only with a poor, shadowy, half-conscious existence, so\nthat an eternity of godlike being in the full enjoyment of life and\nits powers was only thinkable if the body and the soul, the twofold\nself of man, were translated in undissolved communion out of the\nworld of mortality. The Orphic legends about the origin of the human\nrace do not tell us the real source and derivation of the very\ndifferent beliefs about the soul held by the Orphics; those legends\nonly give expression to the {346} way--and only one of many\nways[77\\10]--in which the already established confidence in the\ndivinity of the soul was deducible from what might be considered the\noldest historical story of mankind, and how it might be brought into\nconnexion with the Orphic legend of the gods. This persuasion, the\nbelief that a god was living in man and a god that could not be free\nuntil he had broken through the prison of the body, was deeply\nrooted in the worship of Dionysos and the ecstasies belonging to\nthat worship; we cannot be in much doubt that it was taken over\nready-made, together with the \"enthusiastic\" cult of the divinity,\nand further developed by the Orphic believers. We have already met\nwith traces of this belief even in the Thracian home of the\nDionysiac cult; and in what we know of the Thracian form of the\nreligion, traces are not absolutely wanting of an ascetic tendency\nof living that would easily and naturally arise from such a\nbelief.[78\\10] Even in those Northern countries we found the belief\nin the transmigration of souls bound up with the religion of\nDionysos, and that belief, when it is naively held, has as its\nessential presupposition the idea that the soul, in order to have a\ncomplete life, and one that can survive bodily death, must of\nnecessity be united to another body. Even this idea is, however,\nquite foreign to Orphism. The Orphics retained, in spite of\neverything, the doctrine of transmigration, and combined it in a\nstrange alliance with their own belief in the divinity of the soul\nand its vocation to a life of perfect liberty. It is evidently\nimprobable that they invented that doctrine entirely on their own\naccount; the first principles of their creed by no means led\nnecessarily to it. Herodotos[79\\10] asserts distinctly that the\ndoctrine of transmigration came to the Greeks from Egypt; and as a\nconsequence, that it was from Egyptian tradition that the Orphics\nreceived it. This assertion has no more to recommend it than any\nother of Herodotos' many pronouncements as to the Egyptian origin of\nGreek opinions and legends, and it is even less likely to mislead us\nin view of the fact that it is by no means certain and not even\nprobable that a belief in transmigration ever really existed in\nEgypt.[80\\10] This belief has arisen independently in many places on\nthe surface of the earth, without the need of transmission from one\nplace to another;[81\\10] it might easily arise in a country where\nthe belief prevailed that there existed only a limited number of\nsouls of which each one--in order that no earthly body might be\nwithout its spiritual guest--must inhabit many perishable\nlife-tenements, and not be bound to any one of them by a real inner\nnecessity. This, {347} however, is a conception common to popular\npsychology all over the world.[82\\10] If it is still considered more\nprobable that the idea of a migration of the soul through many\ntemporary bodies was not spontaneously evolved by the Orphics, but\nwas received by them from the hands of others, there is yet no\nreason to reject the most natural assumption--namely, that this also\nwas one of the beliefs that the Orphics took over with the cult of\nDionysos from Thrace. Like other mystics,[83\\10] the Orphics took\nover the belief in transmigration from popular tradition and turned\nit into a serviceable member of their own body of doctrine.[84\\10]\nIt served them by giving a striking and physical expression to their\nown conception of the inevitable connexion between guilt and\npenance, pollution and the refining power of punishment, piety and\nfuture blessedness upon which all their religious ethic depended. It\nwas with an exactly similar purpose that they also retained and\ndeveloped the old Greek idea of a place of the souls in the depths\nbelow the earth.\n\nBut if they believed in the transmigration of souls, that belief did\nnot with them hold the highest place. There is a realm where the\never free and divine souls have their being, a realm to which the\nseries of lives in earthly bodies is only transitional, and the way\nto it was pointed out by the saving doctrine of the Orphic\nmysteries, by the purification and salvation afforded by Orphic\nasceticism.\n\n\nNOTES TO CHAPTER X\n\n\n[1\\10: ~. . . ho/s pote kai\\ teleta\\s must\u00eari/das heu/reto\nBa/kchou~, _AP._ vii, 9, 5 (Damagetos). ~dio\\ kai\\ ta\\s hupo\\ tou=\nDionu/sou genome/nas teleta\\s Orphika\\s prosagoreuth\u00ea=nai~, D.S. 3,\n65, 6. ~heu=re de\\ Orpheu\\s ta\\ Dionu/son must\u00ea/ria~ [Apollod.] 1,\n3, 2, 3. (Dionysum) Iove et Luna (natum), cui sacra Orphica putantur\nconfici: Cic., _ND._ iii, 58; cf. Lyd., _Mens._ 4, 51, p. 107 W.\n~Bakchika/~ an Orphic poem: Suid. ~Orpheu/s~ (cf. Hiller, _Hermes_,\n21, 364 f.), whence _fr._ 3 (Abel); and perhaps _frr._ 152, 167,\n169, 168. ~ta\\ Orphika\\ kalou/mena kai\\ ta\\ Bakchika/~ are already\nreckoned as a single class by Hdt. ii, 81.]\n\n[2\\10: This is seen in the decree of the Council and people of\nAthens dealing with the ~e/mporoi Kitiei=s~ and their temple of\n\"Aphrodite\"--_CIA._ ii, 168 (333/2 B.C.).--That on the other hand\nsuch foreign mystery-cults were not always so tolerated (or not\nwithout resistance is shown by the case of Ninos: Dem., _FL._ (19)\n281 with Sch.; cf. D.H., _Dinarch._ 11.]\n\n[3\\10: ~theoi\\ xenikoi/~, Hsch., see Lob., _Agl._ 627 ff. A nameless\n~theo\\s xeniko/s~ occurs in _CIA._ i, 273 f., 18.--The foundation of\nsuch ~thi/asoi~ for foreign deities (or deities at least not\nofficially worshipped by the city in question) is almost invariably\nthe work of foreigners (many exx. from Rhodos in _BCH._ 1889, p.\n364). They are all foreigners, e.g. whose names occur in the decree\nof the ~thias\u00f4=tai~ of the Karian Zeus Labraundos, _CIA._ ii, 613\n(298/7 B.C.); cf. ib. 614; _SIG._ 726. Merchants from Kition found a\ncult of their Aphrodite (Astarte) in Athens, just as some Egyptians\nhad a little while before put up ~to\\ t\u00ea=s I/sidos hiero/n~ there:\n_CIA._ ii, 168. The names of foreigners (in addition to Athenians)\nare very numerous among the ~o/nomata t\u00f4=n eranist\u00f4=n~ of a\n_**collegium_ of ~Sabaziastai/~ in the Peiraeus (second century\nB.C.): ~Eph. Arch.~ 1883, p. 245 f. The foreign worship would then\nbegin to receive the support of natives of the host-city (most of\nthem being at first of the poorer classes), and in this way the new\nreligion would gain a footing in its adopted home. (Pure Athenian\ncitizens compose the society of the Dionysiastai in the Peiraeus,\nsecond century B.C., _Ath. Mitt._ ix, 288 = _CIA._ iv, 2, 623 d.)]\n\n[4\\10: The Bendideia early became a state festival in Athens (even\nfifth century, _CIA._ i, 210, _fr._ K, p. 93). An allusion in Plato\n(_Rp._ 327 A), however, shows that the Thracians (who must have\nintroduced the cult of Bendis into Athens, or at least into the\nPeiraeus, the home of most ~thi/asoi~) still kept up a special\nworship of their goddess in their own manner, side by side with the\nHellenized cult. It appears at least as if the worship in its\nremodelled Greek form seemed to them no longer the right one.\n(Bendis, too, like Dionysos, is a divinity of both this world and\nthe next: see Hsch. ~di/logchon~.)]\n\n[5\\10: Alleged traces of Orphic influence on special sections of the\nIliad (~Dio\\s apa/t\u00ea~) or the Odyssey are entirely illusory, nor did\nthe Orphic doctrines exert any influence on the Hesiodic _Theogony_.\nOn the other hand, Orphism was itself strongly affected by the\nprimitive Greek theology the fragments of which were put together in\nthe Hesiodic poem.]\n\n[6\\10: ~Onoma/kritos . . . Dionu/s\u00f4| sune/th\u00eaken o/rgia~, Paus. 8,\n37, 5.] {349}\n\n[7\\10: Among the writers of Orphic poems mentioned by (1) Clem. Al.,\n_Str._ 1, 21, p. 397 P. (from Epigenes) and (2) Suidas (from\nEpigenes and another authority: both Su. and Clem. probably got\ntheir information through the mediation of D.H.)--two certain\nPythagoreans are named, Brotinos (of Kroton or Metapontum) and\nKerkops (not the Milesian). [Abel, _Orphica_, p. 139.] From lower\nItaly or Sicily come: Zopyros of Herakleia (the same person is\nprobably meant by Iamb., _VP._ 190, 5 N., when he counts Zopyros\namong the Pythagoreans coming from Tarentum), Orpheus of Kroton,\nOrpheus of Kamarina (Suid.), Timokles of Syracuse. Pythagoras\nhimself is mentioned among the writers of Orphic poems in the\n~Triagmoi/~ of [Ion] (at least as early as the beginning of the\nfourth century). Apart from these the only names of conjectured\ncomposers of Orphic poems are: Theognetos ~ho Thettalo/s~, Prodikos\nof Samos, Herodikos of Perinthos, Persinos of Miletos; all of whom\nare unknown to us except Persinos, whom Obrecht not improbably\nidentifies with the court poet of Euboulos of Atarneus mentioned by\nPoll. ix, 93 (cf. Lob. 359 f. Bgk., _PLG._ iii, 655). In this case\nhe is an Orphic of a much later period.]\n\n[8\\10: ~homologe/ousi de\\~ (sc. ~Aigu/ptioi) tau=ta~ (prohibition to\nbury the dead in woollen clothing) ~toi=si Orphikoi=si\nkaleome/noisi, kai\\ Bakchikoi=si, eou=si de\\ Aigupti/oisi kai\\\nPuthagorei/oisi~, Hdt. ii, 81. There can be no doubt that Hdt. in\nthese words meant to derive the ~Orphika\\ kai\\ Bakchika/~ (the four\ndatives are all neuters, not masc.) from the ~Aigu/ptia kai\\\nPuthago/reia~, i.e. the Pythagorean ordinances which were themselves\nderived from Egypt (cf. Gomperz, _Sitzb. Wien. Ak._ 1886, p. 1032).\nIf he had regarded the ~Puthago/reia~ as entirely independent of the\n~Aigu/ptia~ (and the ~Orphika/~ as independent of the Pythag.) he\ncertainly could not have brought them in here. (This answers Zeller,\n_Ber. Berlin. Ak._ 1889, p. 994, who introduces a comma before ~kai\\\nPuth.~)--It is equally impossible (with Maass, _Orpheus_, p. 165,\n1895), to connect the ~eou=si de\\ Aigupti/oisi~ with ~Bakchikoi=si~\n_only_; it must of necessity go with ~toi=si Orphikoi=si~ as well;\nfor it is the whole point of Hdt.'s note to show that the religious\nusage which he mentions has, like so much else of the kind in Greece\nwherever it may be found, been borrowed from Egypt, and \"is\nEgyptian\". In this he would fail completely if he did not regard the\n~Orphika/~ (and hence also the ~Puthago/reia~) as ~Aigu/ptia eo/nta~\nand clearly say so. Hdt. certainly has no idea, as Maass would have\nus believe, of making a generic distinction between ~Orphika/~ and\n~Bakchika/~: ~Bakch.~ is the name of the genus of which ~Orph.~ is\nthe species.--\"the ~Orphika/~, and the ~Bakchika/~ in general.\" Not\n_all_ ~Bakchika/~ are ~Orphika/~. This use of ~kai\\~ whereby the\nwhole is added subsequently to the part is perfectly regular and\nlegitimate (it may also add the part to the whole as in the cases\nadduced by Maass, 166 n.: ~ta\\s Dionusiaka\\s kai\\ ta\\s Orphika/s~,\netc.). Hdt. mentions the ~Puthago/reia~ last in order to indicate by\nwhat intermediate step the Egyptian element in the first-mentioned\n~Orphika/~ was specially assisted--he has further in ii, 123, shown\nclearly enough that he regarded Pythagoras as one of the pupils of\nthe Egyptians (P. in any case is one of the teachers of immortality\nthere referred to). This is also obvious from his whole\nattitude.--Hdt.'s opinion does not in any case oblige us to believe\nin it. He was forced to regard Pythagoras as the earliest author of\nOrphic doctrine because _his_ connexion with Egypt seemed certain\n(cf. Hdt. ii, 123) while that of the ~Orphikoi/~ themselves was not\nso: in this way only could Hdt. seem to prove the Egyptian origin of\nthat doctrine.--The priority of the Orphics is often supposed to be\nproved by the witness of Philolaos (_fr._ 14 D.) ap. Clem. Al.,\n_Str._ {350} 3, 3, p. 518 P. (and cf. Cic., _Hortens. fr._ 85 Or.);\nit must be admitted, however, that the passage does not prove what\nit is supposed to do.]\n\n[9\\10: _Frr._ 143-51 (cf. Lob. 715 ff.). Here, indeed, Orphic and\nPythagorean doctrine are mixed up inextricably. _Fr._ 143\n(~Puthagorei/\u00f4s te kai\\ Orphik\u00f4=s~ Syrian.) belongs to the ~eis to\\n\narithmo\\n _Puthago/reios_ hu/mnos~ which is several times distinctly\nso called by Proclus. (The _frr._ are in Nauck, Iamb., _VP._, p.\n228. _fr._ iii). _Fr._ 147 (Lyd. _Mens._) obviously comes from the\nsame (Nauck, p. 234, _fr._ ix). The same is at least highly probable\nof the _frr._ 144-6, 148-51. Probably what Orpheus says of the\nnumber 12 comes from the same ~hu/mnos~ (ap. Procl. _in _Rp.__ ii,\n131, 10 Kroll). Proclus, however (_in _Rp.__ 169, 25 K.), also cites\nll. 2-5 from the ~hu/mnos~ (Nauck, _fr._ iii) but this time\nattributes them to an ~eis to\\n arithmo\\n _Horphiko\\s_ hu/mnos~.\nThis Orphico-Pythagorean ~hu/mnos~ had at any rate nothing to do\nwith the (Rhaps.) Theogony of Orpheus. On the other hand, the words\n~tetra/da tetrake/raton~, which acc. to Procl. _in _Rp.__ 169, 29\nK., occurred ~muria/kis~ in the ~Orphik\u00ea\\ theologi/a~, come from the\nTheogony. They were possibly used as a title of Zagreus the ~kero/en\nbre/phos~ (Nonn., _D._ vi, 165): though what is here said by Proclus\nabout the ~Dionusiak\u00ea\\~ (i.e. of Zagreus) ~theo/t\u00eas~, viz. that it\n~tetra/s estin~, was applied rather to the four-eyed Orphic _Phanes_\nby Hermias (_fr._ 64 Ab.).]\n\n[10\\10: On the other hand, there is much in Orphic theology and\npoetry that is taken immediately from the primitive Thracian worship\nof Dionysos and absent from Pythagorean teaching. This makes it very\nprobable that even such _theologoumena_ as are common to Orphism and\nPythagoreanism really go back to the fanatical cult of Dionysos, or\nat least were easily thence derived by religious speculation: in\nthis case the Orphics may well have got them from this original\nsource of mystic lore that was common to both parties and not by the\ncircuitous route of Pythagorean teaching. Orphism remained more\nclosely attached to the common source than did Pythagoreanism, and\nmay for that reason be regarded as somewhat older than its rival and\nbe supposed to have originated independently of it.]\n\n[11\\10: Zopyros of Herakleia, Orpheus of Kroton: Tz., _Prol. in\nAristoph._ ([p. 20, 28 Kaibel, _Com. Fr._] Ritschl, _Opusc._ i,\n207); Suid. ~Orph. Krot\u00f4nia/t\u00eas~ (from Asklepiades of Myrlea).]\n\n[12\\10: We may not simply take it for granted that the account given\nin Dem. 18, 259-60, of the nocturnal initiations and the processions\nby day through the city held by a mystical sect, is intended to\ndescribe the secret mysteries of an _Orphic_ conventicle (as Lob.\ndoes 646 ff., 652 ff., 695 f.). The explanation of the ~apoma/ttein\nt\u00f4=| p\u00eal\u00f4=|~ of that passage by reference to the specially Orphic\nmyth of Zagreus and the Titans is arbitrary in itself and hard to\nreconcile with the language of Demosth. (Harp. and Phot. are\nresponsible for this expl.) Hardly more successful is the derivation\nof the call ~a/tt\u00eas hu/\u00eas~ from the ~a/t\u00ea~ of Dionysos (Zagreus) on\nbeing torn to pieces by the Titans: _EM._ 163, 63. A definite\nconnexion undoubtedly does exist between the ~Orphika\\ o/rgia~ and\nthe ~Saba/zia kai\\ M\u00eatr\u00f4=|a~ (Str. 471) described by Dem.; but the\nOrphics were never called worshippers of Sabazios nor their god\n~Saba/zios~, and it seems likely that their secret worship was\ndifferent from the ceremonies of the ~Sabaziastai/~ that Dem. had in\nview (the latter may have retained more of the primitive barbaric\nritual: cf. the ins. given in ~Eph. Arch.~ 1883, p. 245 f. = _CIA._\niv, _Supp._ ii, n. 626 b; from the end of second century B.C.).]\n\n[13\\10: See Lob., _Agl._ 235 f., 237, 242 f.]\n\n[14\\10: To attribute the practical side of Orphism to a late\ndegeneration {351} of the once purely speculative character of the\nsect (as many have done) is a very arbitrary proceeding and quite\nunjustifiable on historical grounds. The fact that a clear\ndescription of this activity does not occur before the fourth\ncentury (in Plato) does not prove that it did not exist earlier.\nApart from this an ~orpheotelest\u00ea/s~ named Philippos is mentioned by\nPlu., _Apoph. Lac._ 224 E as a contemporary of King Leotychidas II\nof Sparta (reigned 491-469). This evidence is not to be so easily\nset aside, as K. O. M\u00fcller, _Introd. Scient. Myth._ 311 ff., would\nlike to do. The Orphic sect from the very beginning derived its\nstrength from its _telestic_ and _kathartic_ practices.]\n\n[15\\10: Thphr., _Ch._ 28 (16).]\n\n[16\\10: ~autou= (Orphe/\u00f4s) me\\n ei=nai ta\\ do/gmata, tau=ta de/\nph\u00easin~ (Aristot.) ~Onoma/kriton en e/pesi katatei=nai~ Arist. ~p.\nphilosophi/as~ _fr._ 10 [7] Rose, _Arist. Pseudepig._]\n\n[17\\10: Tatian, _Gr._ 41 (p. 42 Schw.), seems to speak only of\n_redaction_ (~sunteta/chthai~) of the ~eis Orphe/a anaphero/mena~\namong already existing Orphic poems as the work of Onomakritos (in\nthe same way Onomakr. is only the ~diathe/t\u00eas~--the arranger not the\nauthor--of the ~chr\u00easmoi/~ of \"Mousaios\", Hdt. vii, 6). Traces of an\nexternal linking-together of the individual poems of Orpheus in a\n\"redaction\" are not wanting (cf. the linking-together of the poems\nof the Epic Cycle or of the corpus Hesiodeum): first of all coming\nin all probability the greater ~krat\u00ea/r~ (as in the enumeration of\nClem. Al., _Str._ i, 21, p. 397 P.); see Lob. 376, 417, 469.--Clem.\nAl., _Str._ i, p. 397 P. (and Eus., _PE._ 10, 11, p. 495 D) is only\nderived from Tatian, though Onomakr. is here definitely called the\n_author_ of the ~eis Orphe/a phero/mena poi\u00ea/mata~. Onomakr. seems\nalso to have been simply regarded as the author of the ~Orphika/~ in\nthe doxographical excerpt ap. S.E. _P._ iii, 30 = _M._ 9, 361, p.\n287 Mutschm.; cf. Gal., _H. Philos._ (_Dox._, p. 610, 15):\n~Onoma/kritos en toi=s Orphikoi=s~.--On the other hand, in\nthe--admittedly incomplete--enumeration of Orphic poems in Clem.\nAl., _Str._ i, 21, p. 397 P., not _one_ is attributed to Onomakr.,\nand in Suid. ~Orpheu\\s~ he is only given the ~chr\u00easmoi/~ (no\nconfusion with the ~chr\u00easmoi/~ of Mousaios is to be suspected here)\nand the _~teletai/~_. Paus. (8, 37, 5) mentions (without naming\nthem) ~e/p\u00ea~ of Onomakr. (cf. Ritschl, _Opusc._ i, 241). Some at\nleast of the poetry going under the name of Orpheus must have been\nascribed to Onomakr. by Arist. (_fr._ 10 [7 Teubn.]).]\n\n[18\\10: Suid. ~Orpheu/s~, 2721 A Gaisf.]\n\n[19\\10: Onomakr. ~ei=nai tou\\s Tita=nas t\u00f4=| Dionu/s\u00f4| t\u00f4=n\npath\u00eama/t\u00f4n epoi/\u00easen autourgou/s~, Paus. 8, 37, 5. Lob., p. 335,\nthinks this refers to the \"Theogony\": but no authority attributes a\nsingle one of the several Orphic Theogonies to Onomakr. as its real\nauthor. We should rather be inclined to think of the ~teletai/~\nwhich is distinctly ascribed to Onomakr. and which at least dealt\nwith the practical side of worship: cf. Pl., _Rp._ 364 E-365 A,\n~lu/seis, katharmoi/ adik\u00eama/t\u00f4n ktl. ha\\s d\u00ea\\ teleta\\s kalou=sin~\n(but it was not that the mystical ~bi/bloi~ were _called_ ~teletai/~\nas Gruppe, _Gr. Culte u. Mythen_, i, 640, mistakenly supposes: he is\notherwise quite right in his protest against Abel's treatment of the\n~teletai/~). They must almost necessarily have dealt with the\nreproduction of the ~pa/th\u00ea tou= Dionu/sou~ (as providing the\n~hiero\\s lo/gos~ to the ~dr\u00f4/mena~), and, as the central idea of the\norgiastic cult, must have included the most important circumstance\nof the Orphic ~teletai/~ (see D.S. 5, 75, 4; Clem. Al., _Protr._ ii,\n17, p. 15 P.).]\n\n[20\\10: One of the poems (perhaps indeed the poem of the\n~rhaps\u00f4|di/ai~, and in that case the ~hiero\\s lo/gos~ as well) made\nOrpheus distinctly appeal to a revelation made to him by Apollo:\n_fr._ 49 (see Lob. 469).] {352}\n\n[21\\10: Besides the three Theogonies distinguished by Damascius\nthere were (apart from other more doubtful traces) at least two\nother variations of the same theme: see _fr._ 85 (Alex. Aphrod.) and\n_frr._ 37; 38 (Clem. Rom.); cf. Gruppe, i, 640 f.--The series of\ndivine rulers given by \"Orpheus\" acc. to Nigid. Fig. ap. Serv.\n_Ecl._ iv, 10 (_fr._ 248 Ab.), conflicts with all the other\nTheogonies but agrees in some particulars with Lact. i, 13 (_fr._\n243). Still, this remark need not necessarily have been taken from\nany Orphic \"Theogony\".]\n\n[22\\10: (Zeus) ~. . . pr\u00f4togo/noio chano\\n me/nos \u00carikapai/ou, t\u00f4=n\npa/nt\u00f4n de/mas ei=chen he\u00ea=| eni\\ gaste/ri koi/l\u00ea|~, _fr._ 120 (from\nthe Rhapsodiai. We are accustomed to read here ~chan\u00f4/n~ with Zo\u00ebga\n(_Abh._ 262 f.): but ~chan\u00f4/n~ does not mean \"catching up or\ndevouring\" [Zo.]; at most it might mean, in bad late-Greek, just the\nopposite of this--\"abandoning\" (transitive). Lobeck's explanation (p.\n519 n.) is also unsatisfactory. The word may have been originally\n~_chad\u00f4/n_~.]\n\n[23\\10: The line occurred in various forms in the Theogonic poem;\n_frr._ 33 (Plato?); 46 [Arist.] _de Mundo_); 123 (Rhapsod).; see\nLob. 520-32. It seems certain then (Gruppe's doubts go too far:\n_Rhaps. Theog._ 704 ff.) that the line appeared in the oldest form\nof Orphic Theogony and was merely borrowed thence, like so much else\nthat was ancient, by the Rhapsod. Theogony (i.e. the words, ~Zeu\\s\nkephal\u00ea\\ ktl.~ which would be the oldest form, as Gruppe rightly\nremarks: ~kephal\u00ea\\ = teleut\u00ea/~; cf. Pl., _Ti._ 69 B). Even the\nwriter of the speech _against Aristogeiton A_ ([Dem.] 25), an Orphic\nadherent, appears, as Lob. remarks, to allude to the words in \u00a7 8.]\n\n[24\\10: _Theokrasia_ must have belonged to Orphic theology from the\noutset: Lob. 614; though the most extreme examples of this may\nperhaps come from later poems: _frr._ 167; 169 (Macr.); 168 (D.S.);\n201 (Rhaps.), etc., being probably derived from the \"Little Krater\"\n(_fr._ 160), in which Chrysippos seems to be imitated (Lob. 735 and\n_fr._ 164), and from the ~Diath\u00ea=kai~, _fr._ 7 (J.M.) a forgery in\nJudaeo-Christian interests which nevertheless made use of many\nancient pieces of Orphic literature (the ~hiero\\s lo/gos~: Lob. 450\nff., 454).--Theokrasia is met with even in the orthodox poets of the\nfifth century, though they did not invent it; the \"theologoi\" of the\nsixth century Epimenides and Pherekydes were as familiar with it as\nwere the Orphics; cf. Kern, _de Theogon._ 92.]\n\n[25\\10: See Append. ix.]\n\n[26\\10: It must have been chiefly the religious significance of the\ngods which caused the retention of their personalities and prevented\nthem from fading into mere personifications of abstract ideas or\nelementary powers with which _religion_ could have had nothing\nfurther to do.]\n\n[27\\10: In the statements of the Neoplatonic writers this first\nOrphic Dionysos is regularly called ~Dio/nusos~ simply (perhaps also\n~Ba/kchos~: _fr._ 192). Nonnus in recounting the Orphic legend calls\nhim Zagreus: _D._ vi, 165; cf. ~Zagre/a geiname/n\u00ea~ (of Perseph.)\nwith clear allusion to Callim. _fr._ 171, ~hui=a Di\u00f4/nuson Zagre/a\ngeiname/n\u00ea~. Callim. here, as elsewhere, seems to have in mind the\n_Orphic_ story. Tz. on Lyc. 355 calls the god of the Orphic legend\n~Dio/nuson to\\n kai\\ Zagre/a kalou/menon. Zagreu/s~ the great Hunter\nis a name of the all-absorbing Hades: thus also the _Alkmaionis fr._\n3 Kink. Zagreus is identified with the Dionysos of nocturnal revelry\nin E., _Kret. fr._ 472, 10 (a reference in _Ba._ 1181 Kirchh.); and\nsee above, chap. viii, n. 28. This Dionysos is regarded as a\n~chtho/nios~ (see Hsch. ~Zagreu/s~) and this must indubitably have\nbeen quite familiar to the poets who made him the son of Persephone:\n~chtho/nios ho t\u00ea=s Persepho/n\u00eas Dio/nusos~ (Harp. ~leu/k\u00ea~). {353}\nThey were as clearly conscious as was Herakleitos of the fact that\n~h\u00f4uto\\s Ha/id\u00eas kai\\ Dio/nusos~, whereas this consciousness was\nundoubtedly obscured in the public ceremonial of Dionysos-worship\n(to which, however, Hcl.'s saying refers). Zagreus-Dionysos was\nnever identified with the ~I/akchos~ of the Eleusinia (to which\nOrph. _fr._ 215, l. 2 refers); though Dionysos alone was often so\nidentified.]\n\n[28\\10: Ouranos casts the Titans into Tartaros: _frr._ 97, 100. Acc.\nto Procl. (_fr._ 205) and Arn. (196: prob. not from the Rhaps.) we\nshould be led to suppose that the Titans after they had torn Zagreus\nin pieces were cast down to Tartaros by _Zeus_. In Arn. this is set\ndown side by side with the statement that the Titans were destroyed\nby the lightning of Zeus (~h\u00ea Tita/n\u00f4n kerau/n\u00f4sis~, Plu., _Es.\nCarn._ 1, 7, p. 996 C), though obviously incompatible with the\nlatter statement, as it is also (even more so) with the origin of\nmankind from the ashes of the Titans which is known not only to\nOlympiodoros (_ad _Phd.__, p. 68 Finckh: Lob. 566), but also to\nProclus who got it from the \"Rhapsodiai\" (as also did Olymp.):\nProcl., _in _Rp.__ ii, 74, 29; i, 93 Kroll. It seems from this that\nProclus (and perhaps Arn.) in error ascribed the ~katatarta/r\u00f4sis~\nof the Titans to Zeus instead of to Ouranos.]\n\n[29\\10: Nonn. vi, 173; O., _fr._ 195. Perhaps Proclus is right in\nexplaining this doubling of the god's figure in the mirror as\nmeaning his entrance upon the ~merist\u00ea\\ d\u00eamiourgi/a~. A reference to\na similar explanation of this ~Dionu/sou ka/topton~ occurs even in\nPlot. 4, 3, 12 (Lob. 555)--? also in the strange statement made by\nMarsilius Ficinus as to the crudelissimum apud Orpheum Narcissi\nfatum (was Zagreus another Narcissus?) _fr._ 315; cf. Plot. 1, 6, 8.\nThe entry of the one origin of the universe into the multiplicity of\nphenomena is first clearly referred to in the dismemberment of\nZagreus, but it would be quite like this symbol-loving poetry to\nintroduce the same motif in a different form with a passing\nreference earlier in the poem.]\n\n[30\\10: Nonn., _D._ vi, 197 ff.]\n\n[31\\10: Paus. 8, 37, 5.]\n\n[32\\10: Procl., O., _frr._ 195, 198, 199. In any case Nonn. vi,\n169 ff. is following the Rhapsodiai.]\n\n[33\\10: Callim. and Euphor. knew of the dismemberment of Dionysos by\nthe Titans: Tz. ad _Lyc._ 208 (from the completer version in _EM._).\nIn any case it is not from the Rhaps. that this legend is also known\nto D.S. 5, 75, 4; Cornut. 30, p. 62, 10 Lang; Plu., _Es. Carn._ 1,\n7, p. 996 C; _Is. et Os._ 35, p. 364 F; Clem. Al. (see Orph. _frr._\n196, 200).--A roughly caricatured drawing on a hydria belonging to\nthe early fourth century found at Rhodos and made probably in Attica\nappears in _JHS._ xi (1890), p. 243; where it is said to represent\nthe dismemberment of Zagreus as conceived by Orphics. The picture,\nhowever, does not agree at all with the meaning thus attributed to\nit; the interpretation cannot be the right one.]\n\n[34\\10: A true ~hiero\\s lo/gos~, i.e. an account of the origin of\nritual acts founded upon myth or legend. (The Orphics had such\naccounts, e.g. of the prohibition against being buried in woollen\nclothing: Hdt. ii, 81 fin.)]\n\n[35\\10: That the tearing in pieces of the bull in the primitive\nThracian manner occurred also in the Orphic ~o/rgia~ may perhaps be\ndeduced from the fact that in the legend Orpheus himself is torn in\npieces by the Mainads. The priest stands in the place of the god:\nwhat the god suffers in the ritual ~dr\u00f4/mena~ that the priest\nsuffers too. This is frequently met with. ~Orpheu\\s ha/te t\u00f4=n\nDionu/sou telet\u00f4=n h\u00eagem\u00f4\\n geno/menos ta\\ ho/moia pathei=n le/getai\nt\u00f4=| sphete/r\u00f4| the\u00f4=|~, Procl. _in_ {354} _Rp._ i, 175 Kr. The\nancients were fully aware that the bull torn in pieces in the\nBacchic orgies represented the god himself (and this not only in\nOrphic ritual but from the beginning in the Thracian worship): the\nidea is often expressed (see e.g. Firm. Mat., _Error. P.R._ vi, 5),\nbut nowhere more clearly than in the Orphic ~hiero\\s lo/gos~.]\n\n[36\\10: The introduction of the Titans from Hellenic mythology into\nthe Thracian myth is clearly described as the work of Onomakritos by\nPaus. 8, 37, 5.]\n\n[37\\10: ~Tit\u00ea=nes kekom\u00ea=tai, hupe/rbion \u00eator e/chontes~, _fr._ 102.\n~amei/lichon \u00eator e/chontes kai\\ phu/sin eknomi/\u00ean~, _fr._ 97. As\nearly as Hesiod the Titans are hated by their father as ~deino/tatoi\npai/d\u00f4n~ (_Theog._ 155). ~Titanik\u00ea\\ phu/sis~ is the evil character\nthat cannot keep an oath: Pl., _Lg._ 701 C; Cic., _Lg._ iii, 5;\n_impios Titanas_, Hor., _O._ 3, 4, 42.]\n\n[38\\10: This explanation of the ~diamelismo/s~ of Zagreus is often\nput forward (though subtilized into a Neoplatonic sense) by those who\nuse the Orphic Rhapsodiai: see Lob. 710 ff. But even Plutarch has\nsomething of the sort (_E ap. D._ 9, p. 389 A), and it cannot be\ndoubted that this (apart from its Platonist wrappings) was the\nmeaning of the legend in the mind of its first inventor. Nor can the\nconception that the separate existence (multiplicity) of things\nfirst came into the world by an act of _impiety_, have been strange\nto the _theologoi_ of the sixth century: we must admit this at once\non remembering the doctrine of Anaximander that the multiplicity of\nthings which has arisen out of the original one ~a/peiron~ is in\nitself an ~_adiki/a_~ for which it must pay \"recompense and\npunishment\" (_fr._ 2 Mull., 9 Diels). Such personification of the\nprocesses of nature and the reading of an ethical sense into them,\ncombined as it was with a quietist tendency, was much more likely to\nhave arisen in the fanciful minds of semi-philosophical mystics than\nto have been given to them by the philosophers.]\n\n[39\\10: See the accounts given in Lob. 565 f.: they come from the\nRhapsodiai. The fact that the origin of men and the doctrine of\nMetempsychosis as well were dealt with in the Rhaps. follows from\nProcl. _in _Rp.__ ii, 338 Kroll. It must, however, have been from\n_older_ Orphic poetry--at any rate, not from the Rhaps.--that the\nstory was derived by D. Chr. 30, 10 f. Plutarch, too, does at least\nrefer to it: ~to\\ _en h\u00eami=n_ a/logon kai\\ a/takton kai\\ bi/aion hoi\npalaioi\\ Tita=nas \u00f4no/masan~, _Es. Carn._ 1, 7, p. 996 C; and\npossibly Opp., _H._ v, 9-10; Ael. _fr._ 89, p. 230, 19 f. Herch.\n(Lob. 567 g). Even the words of Xenokrates (_fr._ 20, p. 166 Heinze)\nseem to allude to this Orphic myth. Thus the Rhapsodiai in this case\nalso were following older Orphic teaching and poetry. Orph. _H._ 37\nderives from a later age. What Nic. _Th._ 8 ff. reproduces\n(mistakenly?) as Hesiodic tradition was perhaps really an echo of\nOrphic poetry. Was the derivation of Man from the Titans suggested\nby still earlier fancies such as e.g. meet us in passages like _h.\nHom. Ap._ 335 (137) f.: ~Tit\u00ea=ne/s te theoi\\ t\u00f4=n e\\x _a/ndres_ te\ntheoi/ te~--? This is not Homeric (for all the Homeric ~pat\u00ea\\r\nandr\u00f4=n te the\u00f4=n te~), though possibly it had a different sense\nfrom what it had for \"Orpheus\".]\n\n[40\\10: Dionysos is the _last_ of the divine rulers of the world:\n_frr._ 114, 190. Hence ~despo/t\u00eas h\u00eam\u00f4=n~, Procl. _in _Crat.__, pp.\n59, 114 Boiss. (though Procl. also speaks of e.g. Hermes as ~ho\ndespo/t\u00eas hum\u00f4=n~ _in Cr._, p. 73 B.). Dionysos is the _sixth_\nruler; Zeus who came before him being the fifth: _frr._ 113 (85,\n121, 122). The order given is: 1 Phanes, 2 Nyx, 3 Ouranos, 4 Kronos,\n5 Zeus, 6 Dionysos. This is definitely stated by Syrian.: _fr._ 85\n(Proclus follows his master: _frr._ 85, 121), and confirmed by the\nfragments of the Rhapsodiai: _frr._ 86, 87, 96, 113. It seems,\nhowever, as if Plato actually found this order (as Syrian. thought)\n{355} in the Orphic Theogony which he read. It is true that as their\nsilence shows the Neoplatonists did not find the verse cited by\nPlato in the Rhapsodiai as they knew them. (Plato's line is ~he/kt\u00ea|\nd' en gene\u00ea=| katapau/sate ko/smon aoid\u00ea=s~: Plu., _E ap. D._ 15, p.\n391 D, has the meaningless ~thumo/n~ instead of ~ko/smon~--did he\nread ~thesmo/n~?) They were right, however, in deducing from the\nline that the ancient Orphic Theogony referred to by Plato also knew\nof six generations of the gods (following the Pythagorean ~te/leios\narithmo/s~?) and ended with the sixth generation. The verse was\nintended doubtless by Plato himself in rather a different sense and\nhe only quotes it humorously (Gruppe differs; _Rhaps. Theog._ 693\nf.). This passage therefore provides important evidence of the\nharmony that existed between the Rhapsodiai and the oldest Orphic\nTheogony in the general outlines of their construction. It is, of\ncourse, quite a different question whether the six rulers in the\npoem referred to by Plato were the same as those given by the\nRhaps.; nor can we tell whether Dionysos there occupied the last\nplace, though the predominance held by Dionysos in Orphic belief\nmakes it very probable that he did.]\n\n[41\\10: The authorities who speak of the origin of mankind from the\nashes (or the blood) of the Titans (Lob. 565 ff.) express themselves\nin such a way that we are forced to suppose that they regarded this\nas essentially the first appearance of men. This, however, cannot be\nreconciled with what Proclus, as usual following the Rhapsodiai,\nsays of the golden and silver ages of mankind under Phanes and\nKronos, which then, and not till then, are followed by the third and\nlast race, ~to\\ titaniko\\n ge/nos~: see _fr._ 244 and esp. _in\n_Rp.__ ii, 74 Kr. ~thn\u00eatoi/~ in the reign of Phanes even occurs in\nthe line quoted by Syrian. (_in Ar. Meta._ 935a 22 Us.) _fr._ 85. It\nis impossible to say whether this improvement upon the Hesiodic\nlegend of the Ages of Mankind actually occurred in an ancient Orphic\nTheogony (the one used perhaps by Lactant.; O., _fr._ 243, 8; cf.\n248), and was thence taken for the Rhapsodiai without being\nreconciled with the legend of the origin of men from the ashes of\nthe Titans; or whether the two scarcely reconcilable accounts of the\norigin of men were somehow or other made to agree. (_Fr._ 246 [Plu.]\nprob. comes from a picture of the long life enjoyed by the earliest\ngenerations of men: see Lob. 513. This picture does not necessarily\npresuppose a series of several ~geneai/~ _before_ the Titanic\nrace.)]\n\n[42\\10: ~me/ros autou= (tou= Dionu/sou) esme/n~, Olymp. (from Orphic\ndoctrine) _in Pl. _Phd.__, p. 3 Finckh. ~ho en h\u00eami=n nou=s\nDionusiako/s estin kai\\ a/galma o/nt\u00f4s tou= Dionu/sou~, Procl. _in\n_Crat.__, p. 82 Boiss. The Hellenes are accustomed to make use of\nthe dismemberment, re-integration and resuscitation of Dionysos ~eis\nto\\n peri\\ t\u00ea=s psuch\u00ea=s lo/gon ana/gein kai\\ tropologei=n~, Orig.,\n_Cels._ 4, 17, p. 21 Lo.]\n\n[43\\10: ~hoi amphi\\ Orphe/a~ think that the soul has the body as a\n~peri/bolon, desm\u00f4t\u00eari/ou eiko/na~, Pl., _Crat._ 400 C. Certainly\nOrphic, too (as the Schol. also say), is ~ho en aporr\u00ea/tois\nlego/menos lo/gos h\u00f4s e/n tini phroura=| esmen hoi a/nthr\u00f4poi ktl.~,\nPl. _Phd._ 62 B; see Lob. 795 f.]\n\n[44\\10: _fr._ 221 (_Phd._ 62 B with Sch.). The similar saying of\nPhilolaos is, as Plato's manner of recording it shows (_Phd._ 61\nE-62 B) evidently derived from a saying of the Orphic ~apo/rr\u00eata~\n(and Philolaos himself appealed to the ~palaioi\\ theolo/goi te kai\\\nma/nties~ in confirmation of the closely connected doctrine of the\nenclosure of the ~psuch\u00ea/~ in the ~s\u00ea=ma~ of the ~s\u00f4=ma~: _fr._ 23\nMull. 14 Di.). The doctrine continued to be taught by Pythagoreans:\nsee Euxitheos Pyth. ap. Klearch. in Ath. iv, 157 CD; Cic., _Sen._\n73. It had moreover some root in popular belief and in legal usage:\nsee above, chap. v, n. 33.] {356}\n\n[45\\10: According to the ~Orphika\\ e/p\u00ea kalou/mena~, ap. Arist. _de\nAn._ 1, 5, p. 410b, 28 ff.: ~t\u00ea\\n psuch\u00ea\\n ek tou= ho/lou eisie/nai\nanapneo/nt\u00f4n pherome/n\u00ean hupo\\ t\u00f4=n ane/m\u00f4n~. (The ancient\ncommentators add nothing fresh.) ~ek tou= **ho/lou~ means simply\n\"out of space\". The ~a/nemoi~ were regarded as daimonic powers\nsubordinate and related to the ~Tritopa/tores~: see above, chap. v,\nn. 124. We cannot say how this conception was made to square with\nthe other articles of Orphic belief (purgation of souls in Hades,\netc.). It is plainly nothing but an attempt at such reconciliation\nthat (following the Rhapsodiai, _fr._ 224) makes the souls that pass\nin death out of the bodies of men, go into Hades, while those that\nhave inhabited the bodies of animals fly about in the wind ~eiso/ken\nauta\\s a/llo apharpa/z\u00ea| mi/gd\u00ean ane/moio pno\u00ea=|sin~. Aristotle\nknows nothing of any such restriction. Plato (_Phd._ 81 D; rather\ndifferently 108 AB) apparently making free use of Orphic ideas\nregards _all_ the ~m\u00ea\\ kathar\u00f4=s apoluthei=sai psuchai/~ as liable\nto the same fate as that allotted by the Rhapsodiai to the beasts.\n(Of course it is possible to suppose that the ~psuchai/~ on being\nreleased from Hades for a new ~ens\u00f4ma/t\u00f4sis~ first of all fly about\nin the wind round the dwelling places of the living and are then\nbreathed into a new body. This would not prevent there being a\npredestined conjunction of a particular soul with the particular\n~s\u00f4=ma~ corresponding to its state of purification.)--The\nestablishment in later Orphic poetry of the theory that the\n~psuchai/~ dwelt in the air may have been assisted by the\nphilosophic theory of the soaring-up of the ~pneu/mata~ into their\nelement the aether (of which more below). This theory, though not\nfirst put forward by the Stoics, was specially favoured by them: it\nalmost attained the status of a popularly accepted belief. When the\nrealm of the souls had thus been at least in part transferred to the\nair, late Orphic poetry began to regard one of the four rivers of\nthe soul-world, ~Ache/r\u00f4n~, as the ~a\u00ea/r~: _frr._ 155, 156 (Rhaps.).\nThere is no reason to see in all this the traces of a supposed\nancient conception in which Okeanos is really a river in the sky (in\nspite of Bergk's fanciful speculations in _Opusc._ ii, 691-6). The\nelevation of the soul-kingdom to the sky is in Greek thought\ninvariably the result of comparatively late speculation. We might\neven ask whether there is not Egyptian influence at work in the\ntransference of Okeanos (= the Milky Way?) to the sky. Such\ninfluence would be late of course; but in Egypt the idea of the Nile\nin the sky was quite familiar.]\n\n[46\\10: ~ku/klos t\u00ea=s gene/se\u00f4s~, _fr._ 226; ~ho t\u00ea=s moi/ras\ntrocho/s~, _rota fati et generationis_: see Lob. 797 ff.]\n\n[47\\10: ~hoi d' autoi\\ pate/res te kai\\ huie/es en mega/roisin\n(polla/kis) \u00ead' a/lochoi semnai\\ kednai/ te thu/gatres . . .\ngi/gnont' all\u00ea/l\u00f4n metameibome/n\u00ea|si gene/thlais~, _frr._ 225, 222\n(Rhaps.). Here, as Lob. 797 rightly remarks, there is an allusion to\nthe dogma of the recurrence of exactly the same state of things in\nthe world. The doctrine of complete ~paliggenesi/a~ or\n~**apokata/stasis hapant\u00f4n~ (see Gataker ad. M. Ant.^1, p. 385) was\nclosely and indeed indissolubly bound up with the doctrine of the\nmigration of souls. (Illogicality belongs rather to the conception\nof the break in the circle caused by the secession of individual\nsouls.) It was therefore found among the Pythagoreans to whom it is\nascribed by Eudemos _fr._ 51 sp. (see Porph., _VP._ 19, p. 26, 23\nff. N.; used later still in a Pythagorean sense by Synes., _Aeg._ 2,\n7, p. 62 f. Krab.). It was borrowed from the Pythagoreans by the\nStoa (by Chrysippos esp.), which after its usual fashion pushed the\nrather bizarre fancy to pedantic extremes. (After the Stoic model is\nPlot. 5, 7, and perhaps also the _genethliaci_ spoken of by Varro\nap. Aug., _CD._ 22, 28.) It is at least {357} probable in the\nextreme that these ideas were first held by the Orphics and not\nborrowed by them from the Stoics: there are even traces in Orphic\ntradition of the great World-year (which is always closely connected\nwith the ~apokata/stasis t\u00f4=n hapa/nt\u00f4n~): Lob. 792 ff.]\n\n[48\\10: ~ku/klon te l\u00ea=xai kai\\ anapneu=sai kako/t\u00eatos~ were the\nwords Proclus probably had before him: (_fr._ 226) _in _Tim.__ 330\nB. The forms ~a\\n l\u00ea/xai kai\\ anapneu/sai~--thus rightly accented\nhere by Schneider--come from Procl. himself, who accommodates the\nwords of the original to the construction of his own sentence. We\nmust therefore _not_ write ~au= l\u00ea=xai~ with Gale and Lob. 800. In\nthis case the subject of the sentence is the praying soul; on the\nother hand, in the form preserved by Simp., ~ku/klon t' allu=sai\nkai\\ anapsu=xai kako/t\u00eatos~, the subject is the gods to whom the\nsoul prays; ~psuch\u00ea/~ being object. In either form the freeing of\nthe soul from the circle is regarded as a grace from the gods.]\n\n[49\\10: _fr._ 76. The lines of the _Carm. Aur._ 55 ff. (Nauck, p.\n207) are probably modelled on the Orphic ~ou/t' agathou= pareo/ntos\nktl.~ The point is: few are they who trouble about the salvation\nthat Orpheus (or Pythagoras) brings them; the ~ho/sioi~ are always a\nsmall minority.]\n\n[50\\10: _frr._ 208, 226. ~Dio/nusos luseu/s, lu/sios, theoi\\\nlu/sioi~; see Lob. 809 f. and cf. _fr._ 311 (Ficinus).]\n\n[51\\10: ~Orphe/a t' a/nakt' e/ch\u00f4n ba/kcheue . . . ~ E. _Hp._ 953\n(N.B. ~a/nax~ not ~despo/t\u00eas~, l. 88).]\n\n[52\\10: ~Orphiko\\s bi/os~, Pl., _Lg._ 782 C; Lobeck, 244 ff.]\n\n[53\\10: The Pythagorean ~e/pou the\u00f4=|, akolouthei=n t\u00f4=| the\u00f4=|~\n(Iamb., _VP._ 137, from Aristoxenos) might also have been given to\nthe Orphics as their motto.]\n\n[54\\10: ~a/psuchos bora/~ of the Orphics: E., _Hp._ 952, Pl., _Lg._\n782 CD; Lob., p. 246. This, too, is the meaning of Ar., _Ra._ 1032,\n~Orpheu\\s me\\n ga\\r teleta/s th' h\u00eami=n kate/deixe pho/n\u00f4n t'\nape/chesthai~, i.e. using slain animals for food. Hor., _AP._ 391\nf.: silvestris homines . . . caedibus et victu foedo deterruit\nOrpheus means to speak not of the ritual vegetarianism of \"Orpheus\",\nbut of the previous cannibalism of men which Orpheus had put an end\nto. As this is nowhere else mentioned of Orpheus we might perhaps\nregard it as mistaken allusion on the part of Horace to the passage\nof Aristoph. quoted above. It is not, however, impossible that\nHorace did in fact have in mind some Orphic verse which really\nreported something like what he himself says of Orpheus. The Orphic\nfragment [247] ap. S.E., _M._ ii, 31; ix, 15 (Lob., p. 246), may\nhave arisen in the same way; see Maass, _Orpheus_, 77. (The\nwell-known lines of Kritias [S.E., _M._ ix, 54 _fr._ 25 Di.] and\nMoschion, p. 813 Nauck, can hardly have anything to do with Orphism\nand should rather be connected with the theories of the Sophists and\nDemokritos--followed later by the Epicureans--about the gradual\nevolution of human civilization from miserable and savage origins;\nand _not_ from a \"golden age\" of which the Orphics too spoke.)]\n\n[55\\10: Prohibition to bury corpses in woollen garments: Hdt. ii, 81\n(in each case in order that nothing ~thn\u00easei/dion~ might cling to the\ndeparted). Prohibition against eating eggs: Lob. 251 (eggs are part\nof the offering to the dead and the food of the ~chtho/nioi~, and so\nforbidden: so rightly explained by Lob. 477). It was forbidden in\nOrphic poetry, as well as Pythagorean, to eat beans: Lob. 251; Nauck\non Iamb., _VP._, p. 231 f.: the reason here, too, being that beans\nas part of the offerings to the dead, _putantur ad mortuos\npertinere_ (Fest.); see Lob. 254 and Crusius, _Rh. Mus._ 39, 165.\nThe same or similar reasons are everywhere at work to cause the\neating of certain foods to be forbidden {358} both by the\nPythagorean ordinances and in the mystical cult of the ~chtho/nioi~:\nit is because they are used as offerings to the beings of the lower\nworld, ~pro\\s ta\\ peri/deipna kai\\ ta\\s prokl\u00ea/seis t\u00f4=n nekr\u00f4=n~,\nor even because they have names which, like ~ere/binthos~ or\n~la/thuros~, recall ~e/rebos~ and ~l\u00ea/th\u00ea~: Plu., _QR._ 95, p. 286\nE. The purified state requires above all complete separation from\nanything connected with the realm of the dead and the divinities of\nthe dead.]\n\n[56\\10: Cf. _fr._ 208.]\n\n[57\\10: The soul is confined within the body (according to those\n~amphi\\ Orphe/a), h\u00f4s di/k\u00ean didou/s\u00eas t\u00ea=s psuch\u00ea=s h\u00f4=n d\u00ea\\ he/neka\ndi/d\u00f4sin~, Pl., _Crat._ 400 C. The exact nature of this \"guilt\" of\nthe soul is not explained in our remains of Orphic literature. The\npoint, however, is chiefly that the life within the body is\naccording to their doctrine not in accordance with but contrary to\nthe proper nature of the soul.]\n\n[58\\10: ~sumpo/sion t\u00f4=n hosi/\u00f4n~, Pl., _Rp._ 363 C. ~hosi/ous\nmu/stas~, Orph., _H._ 84, 3; see above, chap. vi, n. 18.]\n\n[59\\10: ~psucha\\s _athana/tas_ kata/gei Kull\u00ea/nios Herm\u00ea=s gai/\u00eas es\nkeuthm\u00f4=na pel\u00f4/rion~ _fr._ 224 (it would be vain to look for an\nexample of ~atha/natos~ used as adjective to ~psuch\u00ea/~ in Homer).\nHermes ~chtho/nios~ leads the souls down into Hades and also upwards\nagain (to fresh ~ens\u00f4mat\u00f4/seis~): Orph., _H._ 57, 6 ff. (For the\nPythagorean Hermes see D.L. viii, 31.)]\n\n[60\\10: Especially in the ~kata/basis eis Ha/idou~ (Lob. 373; cf.\nabove, chap. vii, n. 3). The descent lay through the chasm at\nTainaron: see above, chap. v, n. 23, and cf. Orph., _Arg._\n41.--Other Orphic poems may also have dealt with such matters:\n~_polla\\_ memutholo/g\u00eatai peri\\ t\u00f4=n en Ha/idou pragma/t\u00f4n t\u00f4=| t\u00ea=s\nKallio/p\u00eas~, Jul., _Or._ vii, p. 281, 3 Hertl. [216 D].]\n\n[61\\10: ~lu/seis kai\\ katharmoi/~ of the living and even the dead\ncarried out by Orphic priests: Pl., _Rp_. 364 E. Reward of the\ninitiated in Hades: cf. the anecdote of Leotychidas II in Plu.,\n_Apophth. Lac._, p. 224 E; and of Antisthenes in D.L. vi, 4. Those\nwho feared the bite of Kerberos or the water-carrying to the leaky\ncask (see App. iii) sought protection against such things in\n~teletai\\ kai\\ katharmoi/~: Plu. _N.P.Q. Suav. Epic._ 27, p. 1105 B.\nHope of immortality for the soul rests on the _Dionysiac_ mysteries\nacc. to Plu., _Cons. ad Ux._ 10, p. 611 D.]\n\n[62\\10: It is significant that the belief in a judgment and\npunishment of ~psuchai/~ is based in [Pl.] _Ep._ vii, 335 A not on\npopular acceptance or the statements of poets but on ~palaioi/ te\nkai\\ _hieroi\\ lo/goi_~; cf. above, chap. vii, n. 13.]\n\n[63\\10: _fr._ 154 (punishment in Hades of those guilty of crimes\nagainst their own parents? _fr._ 281).]\n\n[64\\10: See above, chap. vii, n. 15.]\n\n[65\\10: ~deina\\ perime/nei~: Pl., _Rp._ 365 A; cf. _fr._ 314\n(Ficinus).]\n\n[66\\10: _fr._ 208 (Rhaps.) ~o/rgia/ t' ektele/sousi (a/nthr\u00f4poi),\n_lu/sin progo/n\u00f4n athemi/st\u00f4n maio/menoi;_ su\\~ (sc. Dionysos) ~de\\\ntoi=sin~ (dat. commodi), ~e/ch\u00f4n kra/tos, hou=s k' ethe/l\u00eastha\nlu/seis e/k te po/n\u00f4n chalep\u00f4=n kai\\ apei/ronos oi/strou~ (of\ncontinual rebirth). That this belief in the efficacy of prayers for\nthe \"poor souls of the departed\" belonged to the earlier stratum of\nOrphism follows from Pl., _Rp._ 364 BC, E, 365 A, where he speaks of\n~lu/seis te kai\\ katharmoi/~ of the Orphics which promised to\ndeliver living _and dead_ from the ~adik\u00ea/mata autou= \u00ea\\\n_progo/n\u00f4n_~. (It has been wrongly attempted to fasten the same\nbelief on Plato himself, in the Phaedo.)--For Gnostic and early\nChristian ideas of the same kind see Anrich, _D. Ant.\nMysterienwesen_, 87, 4; 120 n. But even in the Rigveda (7, 35, 4) we\nmay find the thought that the \"pious works of the pious\" can help\nothers to salvation (Oldenberg, _Rel. d._ {359} _Veda_, 289).\nReligious pietism seems to produce the same effects everywhere.]\n\n[67\\10: ~polloi\\ me\\n narth\u00eakopho/roi ktl.~ was an _Orphic_ verse.\nLob. 809, 813.]\n\n[68\\10: _fr._ 154.]\n\n[69\\10: ~ho kekatharme/nos te kai\\ tetelesme/nos ekei=se (eis\nHa/idou) aphiko/menos meta\\ the\u00f4=n oik\u00ea/sei~, _fr._ 228 (Pl.).]\n\n[70\\10: ~sumpo/sion t\u00f4=n hosi/\u00f4n~ in Hades, ~me/th\u00ea ai\u00f4/nios~ their\nreward: Pl., _Rp._ 336 CD (cf. Dieterich, _Nekyia_, 80 n.). Plato\nthere mentions Mousaios and his son (Eumolpos) as authorities for\nthese promises and contrasts with them, by a ~hoi de/~, others who\nmade different promises; perhaps referring to other Orphic poems\n(cf. _fr._ 227). But Mousaios, himself always closely connected in\nPlato with Orpheus (_Rp._ 364 E, _Prot._ 316 D, _Ap._ 41 A, _Ion_,\n536 B), here simply means \"Orphic poetry\". A literature of\nessentially Orphic character went under his name. So Plu., _Comp.\nCim. et Luc._ 1 seems right in substituting simply ~to\\n Orphe/a~\nfor the ~Mousai=os~ named in Pl.]\n\n[71\\10: Pl., _Lg._ 870 DE; then in more detail for a special case\nbut derived from same source: ~no/m\u00f4| . . . t\u00f4=| nu=n d\u00ea/~ (i.e. in\n870 DE) ~lechthe/nti~ 872 DE, 873 A.--The idea of such a\nreligio-juridical _talio_ was popular also in Greece: see below\n(chap. xi, n. 44). Frequently for instance in curses of vengeance\nthe wish is that the doer may suffer exactly the same thing as that\nwhich he has done to his victim. Exx. from Soph. (best is _Tr._ 1039\nf.) given by G. Wolff in S., _Aias_, 839; cf. A., _Cho._ 309 ff.,\n_Ag._ 1430.--As a Neoplatonic idea: Plot. 3, 2, 13; Porph. and Iamb.\nap. Aen. Gaz., _Theophr._, p. 18 B.]\n\n[72\\10: We may, however, suppose that the ideas of the Orphics\ncorresponded with the statements of Empedokles, Plato, etc., about\nthe series of births.]\n\n[73\\10: ~s\u00f4=ma--s\u00ea=ma~ is Orphic: Pl., _Crat._ 400 C.]\n\n[74\\10: Complete escape from the world of birth and death is\ndistinctly anticipated for the pious Orphic in _fr._ 226, ~ku/klon\nte l\u00ea=xai ktl.~ The other and positive side completing this negative\npromise is not clearly supplied for us by any fragment. (We never\neven hear distinctly of the return of the individual soul to the one\nSoul of the World; though certain Orphic myths--probably of late\norigin--seem to suggest such a doctrine of Emanation and final\nRemanation.)]\n\n[75\\10: _frr._ 1, 81. The moon was regarded as inhabited, like the\nworld, by Pythagoreans too (esp. Philolaos) and also by Anaxagoras.]\n\n[76\\10: This at least was the belief of Pythagoreans and later of\nPlatonics: see _Griech. Roman_, 269; Wyttenb. on Eun. _VS._ 117. But\nthe idea occurs as early as in the _Ti._ of Plato, esp. in 42 B. It\nmay have been long familiar to Greek popular belief (as to other\npeoples; cf. Tylor, ii, 70), and reached Orphics from that source.\n(Similar though not quite the same is the popular belief ~h\u00f4s\naste/res gigno/meth' ho/tan tis apotha/n\u00ea|~, Ar., _Pa._ 833 f.,\nwhich the Greeks shared with all the nations of the earth: cf.\n\"Pythagoras\" ap. _Comm. Bern. in Lucan_, 9, 9.)--No opinion can be\nbuilt upon the statement of Ficinus (_fr._ 321).]\n\n[77\\10: Orphic poetry must have varied in its account of what\nhappened to the dismembered limbs of Zagreus-Dionysos. That the\nTitans tore the god limb from limb seems to have been common to all\nversions of the Theogonic poem (see nn. 28, 41; p. 341). But whereas\naccording to one account the Titans then devoured the god (except\nthe heart) and from the mixed Titanic and Dionysiac elements of\ntheir bodies after they had been destroyed by lightning the race of\nmen had its origin (p. 341); according to others the mangled limbs\n{360} of the god were brought by Zeus to Apollo who buried them\ntaking them \"on to Parnasos\", i.e. at Delphi: see Orph. _fr._ 200\n(Clem. Al.) and so, too, Callim. _fr._ 374. The Rhapsodiai gave the\nfirst version in detail, but also preserved an account resembling\nthe second (see _frr._ 203, 204: the ~heni/zein ta\\ meristhe/nta\ntou= Dionu/sou me/l\u00ea~ there refers probably to the reunion of the\ncollected limbs for the purpose of burial and not for the\nrestoration of the dead god to life. This is also possibly the\nmeaning of the ~Dionu/sou mel\u00f4=n koll\u00ea/seis~ in Jul., _Chr._, p.\n167, 7 Neum. But Or., _Cels._ 4, 17, p. 21 Lom., speaks of the\n_reanimation_ of Dionysos ~suntitheme/nou~ after the dismemberment).\nThis second account, where it occurs alone, of course excludes the\n_Anthropogony_ from the Titans' ashes. The second version\nunmistakably connects itself with the Delphic legend of the grave of\nDionysos at the foot of Apollo's tripod (see above, pp. 97 f.) as K.\nO. M\u00fcller observed, _Introd. Scient. Myth._ 242. It does, in fact,\naccord in this instance, but apart from this it has no connexion\nwhatever with the real Delphic legend about the disappearance of\nDionysos into the underworld and his periodic return to this world.\n(See above, chap. viii, n. 28. The Orphic and Delphic legends are\nelaborately compared and worked in together as though they were\nseparate fragments of a single whole in L\u00fcbbert's book, _de Pindaro\ntheologiae Orph. censore_: Ind. Sch. Bonn. Lib. 1888, p. xiii\nf.--with shocking results and no intrinsic justification.) Whether\nthis second version was the one put forward by Onomakritos is\nuncertain. In any case, both accounts are much older than the\nRhapsodiai, in which, it appears, they were included side by side\nand superficially harmonized (--only the limbs of the god _not_\ndevoured by the Titans being buried acc. to this version). Besides\nthese two versions there may have been another Anthropogony\ndiffering from that given in the first account: the existence of\nsomething of the kind is perhaps to be deduced from what the\nRhapsodiai themselves have to tell about the golden and silver\ngenerations of mankind (see above, n. 41).]\n\n[78\\10: Of the Thracian Mysoi ~le/gei ho _Poseid\u00f4/nios_ kai\\\nempsu/ch\u00f4n ape/chesthai~ (which Pythagoras is said to have learnt\nfrom Zalmoxis, Str. 298) ~kat' euse/beian, dia\\ de\\ tou=to kai\\\nthremma/t\u00f4n; me/liti de\\ chr\u00ea=sthai kai\\ ga/lakti kai\\ tur\u00f4=|,\nz\u00f4=ntas kath' h\u00easuchi/an; dia\\ de\\ tou=to kalei=sthai theosebei=s te\nkai\\ kapnoba/tas~ (perh. ~kapnobo/tas~ acc. to an ancient\nconjecture). ~ei=nai de/ tinas t\u00f4=n Thra|k\u00f4=n hoi\\ ch\u00f4ri\\s gunaiko\\s\nz\u00f4=sin, hou\\s kti/stas kalei=sthai, anier\u00f4=sthai/ te dia\\ tim\u00ea\\v\nkai\\ met' adei/as z\u00ea=n~, Str. 296. The _religious_ character of this\nasceticism is seen in the words ~kat' euse/beian~ and the name\n~theosebei=s~; also in the word ~anier\u00f4=sthai~, which are all used\nof the ~kti/stai~ as of a monastic order. Jos., _AJ._ 18, 1, 5, says\nof the Essenes ~z\u00f4=si d' oude\\n par\u00eallagme/n\u00f4s all' ho/ti ma/lista\nemphe/rontes Dak\u00f4=n~ (i.e. ~Thra|k\u00f4=n, Get\u00f4=n~: _Getae, Daci Romanis\ndicti_, Plin., _NH._ iv, 80) ~toi=s polistai=s kaloume/nois~. In any\ncase the same Thracian ascetics are meant whom Poseidonios\n(literally translating a Thracian word) calls the ~kti/stai~. Thus,\nthey are said like the Essence to live without women, eat no meat,\nand in the practice of various other asceticisms live together and\nhave all things in common.--It cannot be certainly decided how old\nthis Thracian asceticism was, its exact connexion with Dionysiac\nreligion, and whether it could or did give any impulse in the\ndirection of asceticism to the Orphics. (Following Hom., ~N~ 4 ff.,\nmany told similar stories of the nomadic Skythoi: see Ephor., _frr._\n76, 78; or of the fabulous Argimpaioi, Hdt. iv, 23; Znb., _Pr._ 5,\n25, p. 129, 1, etc. _Griech. Roman_, 203.--~apoch\u00ea\\ empsu/ch\u00f4n~\noccurred also among the Atlantes and certain Indian races: Hdt. iv,\n184; iii, 100.)] {361}\n\n[79\\10: ii, 123. His words make it plain that the _Greek_ teachers\nof transmigration of souls whom he has in mind (Pherekydes,\nPythagoras, Orphics, Empedokles) had no idea of the Egyptian origin\nof that doctrine (_Rh. Mus._ 26, 556, 1).]\n\n[80\\10: The Egyptian monuments show no knowledge of a general\ntransmigration of souls, due to a law of nature or the decree of the\ngods. We can see very well, however, what it was in Egyptian\ntraditions that might seem like a doctrine of transmigration to\nHerodotos (cf. Wiedemann, **_Erl\u00e4ut. zu Herodots 2. B._ p. 457 f.).]\n\n[81\\10: It is sufficient to refer to Tylor's collections: ii, 3\nff.--In antiquity the Greeks met with a doctrine of Transmigration,\napart from Thrace, among the Keltic races (Caes., _BG._ 6, 14, 5;\nD.S. 5, 28, 6; cf. Timagenes ap. Amm. Marc. 15, 9, 8). This was the\nsole reason why Pythagoras was made the pupil of the Gallic Druids:\nAlex. Polyh. ap. Clem. Al., _Str._ i, p. 355/6 P., etc.]\n\n[82\\10: That it was not unnatural for the Greeks also to have the\nconception of the migration of the soul from its first body to some\nother suitable second or third body (entry of ~t\u00ea=s tuchou/s\u00eas\npsuch\u00ea=s eis to\\ tucho\\n s\u00f4=ma~ acc. to Arist.) may be seen from the\nfact that in Greek popular tales of the transformation of men into\nbeasts the idea regularly prevails that while the body changes in\nsuch cases the \"soul\" remains the same as before. Thus, explicitly\nin Hom. ~k~ 240 (cf. Sch. there and 329); cf. also Ov., _M._ ii,\n485; Nonn., _D._ v, 322 f.; Aesop., _F._ 294 (Halm): [Luc.] _Asin._\n13, 15 init.; Apul., _M._ iii, 26 init; Aug., _CD._ 18, 18, p. 278,\n11 ff. Domb., etc. (In all transformation stories this is regularly\nimplied and gives the point to the story.) This is true from the\nearliest times onward, down to Voltaire's muleteer who was turned\ninto a mule et du vilain l'\u00e2me terrestre et crasse \u00e0 peine vit\nqu'elle eut chang\u00e9 de place.)--The beasts also have a ~psuch\u00ea/~:\ne.g. ~x~ 426.]\n\n[83\\10: Brahmins, Buddhists, Manichaean, etc.]\n\n[84\\10: A fixed term for \"transmigration of souls\" does not seem to\nhave been offered by Orphic teaching. It was later called\n~paliggenesi/a~ (a term which did not exactly fit the real meaning\nof the idea: this seems to have been its oldest name (cf. ~hai\npsuchai\\ _pa/lin gi/gnontai_ hek t\u00f4=n tethne\u00f4/t\u00f4n~, Pl., _Phd._ 70\nC), and remained its most ceremonious one. \"_Pythagoras_\" _non_\n~metempsu/ch\u00f4sin~ _sed_ ~paliggenesi/an~ _esse dicit_: Serv., _A._\niii, 68. ~metens\u00f4ma/t\u00f4sis~, is not uncommon (frequent in Hippol.,\n_RH._, p. 12, 53 D.-S.; 266, etc.). The word most commonly used\namong ourselves, ~metempsu/ch\u00f4sis~, is among the Greeks precisely\nthe least usual; it occurs e.g. in D.S. 10, 6, 1; Gal. iv, 763 K.;\nTertul. _de An._ 31; Serv., _A._ vi, 532; 603; Suid. s.v.\n~Phereku/d\u00eas~. ~metempsuchou=sthai~ occurs in Sch., A.R. i, 645.]\n\n\n{{362}}\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nTHE PHILOSOPHERS\n\nThe Orphic teaching, in which a protracted movement of religion in\nGreece reached comprehensive expression, might seem almost an\nanachronism, appearing as it did in an age when a religious\ninterpretation of the world and of mankind was hardly any longer\nadmissible. Eastwards, on the coasts of Ionia, a new view of the\nworld had arisen which, like a youth that has come of age, demanded\nthe right to pursue its course without any guidance from traditional\nbeliefs. The Ionic maritime cities were the meeting-place of all the\ncollected wisdom and experience of mankind; and there all the more\nserious knowledge and study--both indigenous and of foreign\norigin--of \"Nature\", the earth, and the heavenly bodies, was\ngathered together in the intelligence of those ever-memorable\nspirits who at that time were laying the foundations of natural\nscience, and of all science in general. This knowledge was now\nattempting to turn itself into an organized and all-embracing whole.\nObservation and constructive study combined with an imaginative\nvision to hazard a picture of the world and reality as a whole.\nBecause it was impossible anywhere in this world to find anything\ncompletely and for ever fixed and dead, speculation inevitably\npressed forward to the discovery of the undying source of Life, that\nperpetually fills, moves, and rebuilds this whole, and of the laws\naccording to which it works and necessarily must work.\n\nThis was the direction pursued by these earliest pioneers of\nphilosophy; and they pursued it unhampered by any subservience to\nmythical or religious modes of thought. Where mythology and the\ntheology founded upon it saw a complete history of cosmic events\neach one of which was the result of the separate and unique action\nof divine personalities endowed with consciousness and the power of\narbitrary choice--there the philosopher saw the play of everlasting\nforces which could not be completely resolved into the single events\nof any historical process, for, without beginning or end they had\nbeen ever in action, tirelessly fulfilling themselves in accordance\nwith unchanging laws. In such a universe there seemed {363} to be\nlittle room left for divine figures created by man after his own\nimage, and worshipped by him as the guiding and supreme powers of\nthe world. And in fact, the foundations were now laid of that\ntremendous structure of free inquiry, which finally succeeded in\nweaving out of its treasure new worlds of thought, where even those\nwho had quarrelled or were dissatisfied with the old religion (now\ninwardly falling into decay for all its outward appearance of being\nat the most brilliant zenith of its powers) might yet find a refuge\nif they would not fall back upon sheer nothingness.\n\nAnd yet Greece never saw a thorough-going opposition and conscious\nquarrel between science and religion. In a few special cases the\nreligion of the state was forced to recognize its incompatibility\nwith the openly expressed opinions of individual philosophers, and\ntook steps to make its claims to universal supremacy respected. But\nfor the most part, the two streams of influence flowed on side by\nside for centuries without ever coming into hostile contact. The\npropagandist temper was completely absent from philosophy from the\nvery beginning. (Even when it appeared later as among the Cynics it\nproduced very little effect on the supremacy of the state religion.)\nReligion on its side was not represented by any priestly caste which\nmight have been led to take up arms for religion and for what it\nbelieved to be its own interest alike. Theoretic contradictions\nmight the more easily remain unobserved when religion depended so\nlittle upon fixed dogma or upon a world-embracing whole of opinions\nand doctrines; while Theology, wherever it accompanied the worship\nof the gods (~euse/beia~), which was the real core of religion, was,\njust as much as philosophy, the business of individuals and their\nadherents gathered together outside the limits of the official\nreligion of the state. Philosophy (except in a few special and\nunrepresentative cases) never sought open war with religion--not\neven with the weakened and diluted religion of the masses. In fact\nthe juxtaposition of philosophy and religion (with theology itself\nby their side) sometimes went beyond the external conditions of the\ntime, and affected the private intellectual life of certain\nthinkers. It might seem as if religion and philosophy were not\nmerely different but dealt with different provinces of reality, and\nthus even strict and philosophically minded thinkers could honestly\nand without imagining disloyalty to philosophy, adopt particular and\neven fundamental conceptions from the creed of their fathers, and\nallow them to grow up side by side and at peace with their own\npurely philosophical ideas. {364}\n\n\u00a7 2\n\nWhat the Ionic philosophers in connexion with the rest of their\ncosmology had to say about the soul of man did not for all its\nstriking novelty bring them into direct conflict with religious\nopinion. Philosophy and religion used the same words to denote\ntotally different things; it could surprise no one if different\nthings were said about quite different objects.\n\nAccording to the popular view, which finds expression in Homer, and\nwith which, in spite of their very different estimate of the\nrelative values of body and soul, the religious theory of the\nOrphics and other _theologi_ also agreed--according to this view the\n\"psyche\" was regarded as a unique creature of combined spiritual and\nmaterial nature that, wherever it may have come from, now dwells\nwithin man and there, as his second self, carries on its separate\nexistence, making itself felt when the visible self loses\nconsciousness in dream, swoon, or ecstasy (see above, pp. 6 f.). In\nthe same way, the moon and the stars become visible when no longer\nobscured by the brighter light of the sun. It was already implied in\nthe conception itself that this double of mankind, which could be\ndetached from him temporarily, had a separate existence of its own;\nit was no very great step from this to the idea that in death, which\nis simply the permanent separation of the visible man from the\ninvisible, the latter did not perish, but only then became free and\nable to live by and for itself.\n\nThis spiritual being and the obscure manifestations of its existence\nin the living man, did not attract the observation of the Ionian\nphilosophers. Their thoughts were all for the universe as a whole;\nthey looked for the \"origins\" (~archai/~) of all that is and\nbecomes; for the simple elements of multifarious appearance and for\nthe force which turns the simple into the multifarious while\ncontrolling, moving, and giving life to primeval matter. The power\nof life, the force which can set in motion both itself and all else\nthat without it would be fixed and motionless--this force penetrates\nall being; where it manifests itself most strikingly in separate\nindividual beings, there it is what these philosophers call the\n\"psyche\".\n\nThought of in this way, the psyche is something quite different from\nthe old psyche of popular belief, idly observing the life and\nactivities of its body, as of some stranger, concentrated in itself,\nand pursuing its own secret, hidden life. And yet the name given to\nthese very different concepts remained the same. The application of\nthe word \"psyche\" {365} to the power which gives life and movement\nto the visible body--man's power of life--might have been suggested\nto the philosophers by a manner of expression which, though in the\nstrict sense of the words conflicting with Homeric conceptions, is\noccasionally observable in the Homeric poems, and seems to have\nbecome more and more frequent in late times.[1\\11] In more exact\nlanguage, the \"psyche\" of these philosophers is a collective\nexpression for all the powers of thought, desire, and will (~no/os,\nme/nos, m\u00ea=tis, boul\u00ea/~), and especially for the functions denoted\nby the untranslatable word ~thumo/s~--powers which according to the\nHomeric and popular partition all belong entirely to the side of the\nvisible man and his body.[2\\11] According to that view, they are all\nexpressions of the body's natural powers of life--though they cannot\nindeed be awakened to real life before the arrival of the\n\"psyche\"--and in Homeric usage are almost the exact opposite of the\n\"psyche\", for they perish at death, while the psyche leaves them\nbehind to wander about in its separate shadow-life.\n\nBut the soul, according to the view of the physiologists, has quite\na different relation to the totality of life and living, and differs\nin this respect both from the Homeric psyche and the Homeric\n~thumo/s~. The same force which manifests itself so strongly, as\nthough specially concentrated there, in the psyche of man, works and\nrules in all matter as the general source of life that creates and\npreserves the world. Thus, the psyche loses the special singularity\nthat distinguished it from all the other things and substances in\nthe world, and made it incomparable and unique. Later reporters are\nwrong in attributing to these Ionic thinkers (for whom vital power\nand material substance seemed immediately and indissolubly united)\nthe conception of a separate, independent \"World-Soul\". Not as\nemanations from a single Soul of the World did they conceive the\nseparate souls of men; but neither did they conceive them as simply\nindependent, unique, and entirely incomparable essences. They are\nexpressions of that force which everywhere in all the phenomena of\nthe world produces life and is itself _life_. Attributing spiritual\nqualities to the primeval source of things, the physiology of the\n\"Hylozoists\" naturally could not assume any profound distinction\nbetween that source and the \"soul\". Deprived in this way of its\nseparateness, the soul acquired a new importance in exchange; in\nanother sense from that of the mystics and theologians it could\nstill be thought of as something divine, for it was a participator\nin the one Force which builds and rules the world. It is not the\nabode of a single daimonic {366} nature, but instead, the very\nnature of god is alive within it.\n\nThe closer its inward connexion with the universal Whole the less,\nof course, will the soul be able to preserve its individual\nexistence, which was only lent to it while it gave life and movement\nto the body, when that body, the sign and support of its\nseparateness, is overtaken by death. These earliest philosophers\nwhose view was almost entirely concentrated on the broad outlines of\nthe life of nature as a whole, would hardly have regarded it as part\nof their task to formulate a deliberate opinion about the fate of\nthe puny individual soul after the death of its body. In no case\ncould they have spoken of an _immortality_ of the soul in the same\nsense as did the mystics who regarded the soul of which they spoke\nas something which has entered from without into material existence,\nand as a spiritual essence quite distinct from everything material.\nThe latter were thus able to attribute to the psyche a capacity for\nseparate and continued existence which was inadmissible in the case\nof a force of movement and sensation completely inhering in matter\nand in the shaping of matter. And it was such a force which the\nphysiologists called the soul.\n\nAncient tradition, nevertheless, asserts that Thales of Miletos,\nwhose genius first began the philosophic study of nature, was the\nfirst \"to call the soul (of man) immortal\".[3\\11] But Thales, who\nrecognized a \"soul\" also in magnets and plants,[4\\11] and thought of\nthe material stuff and the motive force of the \"soul\" as\ninseparable, can only have spoken of the \"immortality\" of the human\nsoul in the same sense as he might have spoken of the immortality of\nall \"soul-forces\" in nature. Like the primal Matter which works and\ncreates by reason of its own natural powers of life, so, too, the\nuniversal Force which permeates it[5\\11] is imperishable and\nindestructible, as it is uncreated. It is entirely and essentially\nalive and can never be \"dead\".\n\nAnaximander said of the \"Unlimited\" from which all things have been\ndeveloped by separation, and by which all things are enveloped and\ndirected, that it never grows old, but is immortal and\nimperishable.[6\\11] This cannot be intended to apply to the human\nsoul as a separate existence; for like all separate creations out of\nthe \"Unlimited\" it must \"in the order of the time\" pay the penalty\nfor the \"offence\" of its separate existence,[7\\11] and lose itself\nagain in the one primordial matter.\n\nNor could the third in this series--Anaximenes of Miletos--have\ndiffered seriously from Thales in the sense in which {367} he spoke\nof the soul as \"immortal\"; for him it was of the same nature[8\\11]\nas the one divine[9\\11] primal element of Air that is eternally in\nmovement and produces all things out of itself.\n\n\u00a7 3\n\nIn the teaching of Herakleitos of Ephesos the living power of the\nprimal essence--the one[10\\11] and universal, out of which arises\nthrough change the many and the particular, which manifests itself\nin the union, regarded as indissoluble, of matter and motive\nforce--received even greater prominence than with the older Ionians.\nBy them matter itself--described as either limited or not limited in\nreference to one particular quality--is regarded as self-evidently\nin motion. For Herakleitos the origin of all multiplicity lies\nrather in the creative energy of absolute Life itself which is at\nthe same time a definite material substance or analogous to one of\nthe known substances. The idea of _life_, and that form of it which\nmakes its appearance in man, must have been more important for him\nthan for any of his predecessors.\n\nThis never-resting force and activity of becoming that has neither\nbeginning nor end, is represented by the Hot and Dry and called by\nthe name of that elementary condition which cannot be thought of as\nceasing to move, namely, Fire. The ever-living (~aei/z\u00f4on~) fire,\nwhich periodically kindles itself and periodically goes out\n(Bywater, _fr._ 20), is formed entirely of movement and livingness.\nLiving belongs to everything; but living is becoming, changing,\nbecoming something different without cessation. Every appearance\nbrings forth from itself, at the moment of its appearance, the\nopposite of itself. Birth, life, and death, and fresh birth clash\ntogether in a single burning moment, like the lightning (_fr._ 28).\n\nThat which thus moves itself in unceasing vitality and has all its\nbeing in becoming; which perpetually changes and \"in\nbackward-straining effort\" finds itself again--this is something\nendowed with reason, creative in accordance with reason and \"art\";\nis Reason (~lo/gos~) itself. In creating the world it loses itself\nin the elements; it suffers its \"death\" (_frr._ 66, 67) when in the\n\"Way downwards\" it becomes water and earth (_fr._ 21). There are\ndegrees of value in the elements decided by the relation which they\nhold towards the moving and self-vivifying fire. But that which in\nthe multiplicity of the phenomena in the world, yet preserves its\ngodlike fiery nature--this is for Herakleitos \"psyche\". Psyche is\nfire.[11\\11] Fire and psyche are interchangeable terms.[12\\11] And\nso, too, the psyche of man is fire, a part of the universal fiery\n{368} energy that surrounds it and upholds it, through the\n\"inhalation\" of which it maintains itself alive;[13\\11] a portion of\nthe World-Reason by participation in which it is itself rational. In\nmen God is living.[14\\11] But god does not descend into man, as in\nthe teaching of the Theologians, entering as a finite individuality\ninto the vessel of the individual human life. As a united whole he\nsurrounds men with his flood and reaches after and into them, as\nthough with fiery tongues. A portion[15\\11] of his universal Wisdom\nis living in the soul of man: the \"drier\", more fiery, nearer to the\nuniversal Fire and further from the less living elements he is, the\nwiser will he be (_frr._ 74, 75, 76). If he sundered himself from\nthe universal wisdom, man would become nothing; it is his business\nin thinking, as in acting and in moral behaviour, to surrender\nhimself to the One Living essence that \"nourishes\" him and is the\nMind and Law of the world (_frr._ 91, 92, 100, 103).\n\nBut the soul itself is also a portion of the universal Fire that in\nthe perpetual variation of its form of being has been encompassed by\nthe body and become entangled in corporeality. Here we no longer\nhave the rigid, unmediated contrast between \"Body\" and \"Soul\" such\nas it appeared from the standpoint of the theologian. The elements\nof the body, water and earth, have themselves arisen and perpetually\narise out of the fire which changes into all other things, and into\nwhich everything else changes (_fr._ 22). So it is the soul itself,\nthe creative fire, which _creates_ the body. \"Soul,\" i.e. Fire,\nunceasingly turns itself into the lower elements; there is no\ncontrast between them, and it is but a continual flux of transition.\n\nWhile it is enclosed in the body the soul is still affected by\nunceasing change. In this it is like everything else. Nothing in the\nworld can for a single moment preserve the parts which compose it\nunaltered; the perpetual movement and alteration of its being\nconstitute its life. The sun itself, the greatest fire-body, becomes\nanother sun every day (_fr._ 32). So, too, the soul, though distinct\nfrom the body and a self-existing substance, yet is a substance that\nnever remains like itself. In unceasing alteration of its material\nsubstance, its contents are perpetually being transposed. It loses\nits fire of life in the lower elements; it absorbs fresh fire from\nthe living Fire of the universe that surrounds it. There can be no\nquestion of the permanent identity of the soul, of the spiritual\npersonality, with itself. What in the unbroken process of upward and\ndownward straining seems to maintain itself as a single person, is\nin reality a series of souls and {369} personalities, one taking the\nplace of another and ousting and being ousted in turn.\n\nThus, even while it is in life, the soul is perpetually dying--but\nto live again; ever supplementing the departing soul-life or\nsupplying its place with another. So long as it can recruit itself\nfrom the surrounding World-Fire, so long the individual lives.\nSeparation from the source of all life, the living and universal\nfire of the world, would be death for it. The soul may temporarily\nlose its life-giving contact with the \"common world\": this happens\nin sleep and dreaming which enclose it in their own world (_frr._\n94, 95), and this is already a partial death to it. Sometimes, too,\nthe soul has a tendency to transform itself to a humidity not always\nmade good by fresh fire; the drunkard has a \"moist soul\" (_fr._ 73).\nFinally, there comes the moment when the soul of man cannot any\nlonger repair the loss of the living fire which is taken from it in\nthe perpetual alteration of its matter. Then it dies; death carries\noff the last of the series of living fires which in their continuity\nmade up the human soul.[16\\11]\n\nBut in Herakleitos' world there is no such thing as death in the\nabsolute sense--an end followed by no beginning, an unconditional\ncessation of becoming. \"Death\" is for him only a point where one\ncondition of things gives way to another; a relative \"not-being\",\ninvolving death for one but simultaneously bringing birth and life\nfor another (_frr._ 25, [64], 66, 67). Death, just as much as life,\nis for him a positive thing. \"Fire lives the death of earth, and air\nlives the death of fire; water lives the death of air, and earth the\ndeath of water\" (_fr._ 25). The One that is in all things is at once\ndead and alive (_fr._ 78), immortal and mortal (_fr._ 67); a\nperpetual \"death and becoming\" agitates it. So, too, the \"death\" of\nman must be the exit from one positive state of things, and the\nentry into another, also positive, condition. Death occurs for man\nwhen the \"soul\" is no longer within him. Only the body is then left;\nalone and by itself it is no better than dung (_fr._ 85). But the\nsoul--what becomes of that? It must have altered; it was fire, but\nnow it has descended on the \"Way downwards\" and become water--to\nbecome earth after that. So it must happen to all fire. In death the\nfire in man \"goes out\" (_fr._ 77). \"It is death for the souls to\nbecome water\" says Herakleitos clearly enough (_fr._ 68).[17\\11] The\nsoul must tread this path at last, and treads it willingly; change\nis for the soul its delight and refreshment (_fr._ 83). The soul has\nthen changed itself into the elements of the body, has lost itself\nin the body. {370}\n\nBut it cannot rest permanently in this transformation. \"For the\nsouls it is death to become water; for the water it is death to\nbecome earth. And yet from earth comes water; and from water, soul\"\n(_fr._ 68). Thus, in the restless up and down of becoming, in the\n\"Way upwards\" the soul reconstitutes itself out of the lower\nelements. But not _that_ soul which had formerly animated the\nparticular individual and of whose complete self-identity in the\nmidst of the influx of the Fire-spirit there could be no question\neven during the life of the body. The inquiry after an individual\nimmortality or even a continued existence of the separate soul could\nhardly have had any meaning at all for Herakleitos. Nor can he have\nadmitted it under the form of the \"transmigration of the\nsoul\".[18\\11] It is quite certain that Herakleitos can never have\ndistinctly asserted the changeless persistence of the individual\nhuman soul in the midst of the unbroken stream of becoming in which\nall fixity is nothing but an illusion of the senses. But it is also\nincredible that, in despite of his own fundamental principles, he\neven admitted the possibility of this popular view with an\nindulgence quite foreign to his nature.[19\\11] What could have\ntempted him to do so? We are told[20\\11] that it was from the\nmysteries that he adopted this opinion which was one of their most\nimportant doctrines. Herakleitos, however, only casts an occasional\nglance at the mysteries and what might be called their \"doctrine\"\n(just as he glanced at other prominent manifestations of the excited\nreligious life of his time[21\\11]); and he does so in order to\nharmonize their teaching with his own--a result which he achieves\nrather by imposing an interpretation than by patiently eliciting\none. He demonstrates that the mysteries might be harmonized with his\nown doctrine,[22\\11] which seemed to him able to explain all the\nphenomena of the world; that contrariwise he ever sought to set his\nown teaching in harmony with that of the mysteries, or that the\nlatter had shown him the way to his thought, or could ever have\ntempted him to set foot outside his own self-chosen path--of this\nthere is not a scrap of evidence to be had.\n\nThe individual in its isolation has, for Herakleitos, neither value\nnor importance: to persist in this isolation (if it had been\npossible would have seemed to him a crime.[23\\11] The Fire is for\nhim indestructible and immortal as a totality, not as divided into\nindividual particles, but only as the one Universal Mind that\ntransforms itself into all things and draws all things back again\ninto itself. The soul of man has a claim to immortality as an\nemanation of this universal Reason, {371} and shares the immortality\nwhich belongs to it. So, too, the soul, even when it has lost itself\nin the elements, finds itself again. Between \"want\" and\n\"satisfaction\" (_frr._ 24, 36), this process of becoming has its\nperpetual being. A day will come when the Fire will \"overtake\"\neverything (_fr._ 26); God will then be utterly by himself--all in\nall. But that is not the purpose of this world; here change,\nbecoming and passing away will never end. Nor should they end; the\n\"Strife\" (_fr._ 43) which has created the world, and ever fashions\nit anew, is the most inward nature of the All-living which it\nperpetually stirs to insatiable desire of becoming. For the desire\nand refreshment of all things is Change (_frr._ 72, 83), the coming\nand going in the interplay of Becoming.\n\nIt is the precise opposite of a quietistic mood that speaks from the\nwhole teaching of Herakleitos. His voice is a trumpet call that\ngrows louder and louder as his lofty and majestic spirit with\never-increasing intensity proclaims prophet-like the last word of\nwisdom. He knows well that it is only labour that can give meaning\nto rest, and hunger to satisfaction; only sickness can call forth\nthe desire of health (_fr._ 104). That is the law of the world which\nbinds together the opposing contraries, each of which is engendered\nfrom the last, with an inward and complete necessity. He bows before\nit and assents to it. For him the fixity of the soul in a\nBlessedness that was without activity and without change--even if\nsuch were thinkable[24\\11]--would not have seemed a possible goal of\ndesire.\n\n\u00a7 4\n\nEven before the days of Herakleitos the torch of philosophic inquiry\nhad been borne from the coasts of Ionia to the West by Xenophanes of\nKolophon who in a life of adventure had wandered as far as Southern\nItaly and Sicily. For his fiery temperament the most subtle\nreflection was turned into life and experience, and the one enduring\nsource of Being to which he ever directed his gaze became the\nuniversal Divinity that is all perception and thought, that\ntirelessly embraces all things in its thought and intelligence, and,\nwithout beginning or end, perpetually remains the same with itself.\nWhat Xenophanes had to say about this God which for him is the same\nas the world, became the basis for the elaborated doctrine of the\nEleatic school which, in declared opposition to Herakleitos,[25\\11]\ndenied all possibility of movement, becoming, alteration, division\nof the One into Many, to the one absolute Being that completely and\nentirely occupies Space, is raised {372} above all development,\nwhether temporal or spatial, and remains perpetually enclosed in\nitself in absolute self-sufficiency.\n\nFor this view the whole multiplicity of things that presses itself\nupon sense-perception is an _illusion_. Deceptive also is the\napparent existence of a multiplicity of animated beings, just as the\nwhole of nature is an illusion. It was not \"Nature\", the content of\nactual experience, that provided the starting-point of the\nphilosophy of Parmenides. Without any assistance from experience,\nsimply by the pure logical deductions to be made from a single\nfundamental concept (that of \"Being\"), which was to be grasped only\nby the understanding, this philosophy claimed to arrive at the whole\ncontent of its teaching. For the philosophic scientists of Ionia the\nsoul also had been a part of nature and the science of the soul a\ndepartment of the science of nature; and this inclusion of the\npsychical within the physical was the peculiarity in their doctrine\nof the soul which distinguished it from the ordinary popular\npsychology. When, however, the whole of Nature was to be ruled out\nof account as a subject of scientific knowledge, the derivation of\npsychology from physiology had to be given up as well. These\n_aphysici_[26\\11] were logically debarred from holding any doctrine\nof the soul.\n\nWith a complaisance that is remarkable in view of the uncompromising\nlogical vigour with which they deduced their main theory and based\nit on abstract, super-sensual knowledge, the Eleatics conceded so\nmuch at least to the region of appearance and the pressure of\nsense-perception that, although they did not deduce from their own\nfundamental conceptions a physical theory of multifarious appearance\nand its development, yet, side by side with their rigid doctrine of\nbeing, in unjustified and unjustifiable relation with it, they did\nin fact put forward such a theory. Xenophanes, himself, had already\nin the same way offered a physical theory of limited and relative\nvalidity. Parmenides in the second part of his doctrinal poem,\ndeveloped, \"in deceptive adornment of words,\" not an authoritative\nstatement of the true nature of being, but \"human opinions\" of\nbecoming and creation in the world of multiplicity. This, too, must\nbe the standpoint of the physiological doctrines put forward by Zeno\nof Elea, the boldest dialectician who upheld the doctrine of the\nmotionless All-One. In the course of such a physiology, and with the\nsame implied reservations, the Eleatic philosophers dealt also with\nthe nature and origin of the soul. Their physical doctrine was\nframed entirely on the lines of the older type of {373} natural\nphilosophy, and they regarded the relation of the spiritual to the\ncorporeal from exactly the same point of view as their predecessors\nhad done. For Parmenides (146 ff, Mull. = _fr._ 16 Diels) the mind\n(~no/os~) of man depends for its existence upon the mixture of two\ningredients of which everything, including its body, is composed.\nThese ingredients are the \"Light\" and the \"Night\" (the Warm and the\nCold, Fire and Earth). What is intellectually active is, even in\nmankind, the \"nature of his limbs\"; the character of his thought is\ndetermined by the one of the two elements which preponderates in the\nindividual. Even the dead man (because he still has a body) has\nfeeling and sensation; but these powers are deserted by the warm and\nthe fiery and given over to the cold, the dark, and silence. All\nthat is has some capacity of knowledge.[27\\11]--It would be\nimpossible to condemn the \"soul\" to corporeality more completely\nthan is here done by the bold philosopher of abstract Reason, who at\nthe same time denied so unconditionally all validity to\nsense-perception. The soul is evidently no longer an independent\nsubstance but a mere resultant of material mixture, a function of\nelements in composition. For Zeno, too, the \"soul\" in the same way\nwas an exactly equal mixture of the four elementary properties of\nmatter, the Warm, the Cold, the Dry, and the Wet.[28\\11]\n\nIt is, therefore, startling, in the face of these utterances, to\nfind that Parmenides also said about the \"soul\" that the deity that\nrules the world \"at one time, sends it out of the Invisible into the\nVisible, and at another time back again\".[29\\11] Here, the soul is\nno longer a condition arising from the mixture of material elements,\nbut an independent being credited with pre-existence before its\nentry into the \"Visible\", i.e. before its entry into the life of the\nbody, and also with a continued existence after its separation from\nthe realm of visibility--and indeed, with a sojourn, several times\nrepeated, in those two worlds. Did Parmenides distinguish between\nthis independently existing soul and the being that perceives in the\nmixture of the elements and as mind (~no/os~) thinks, but whose\nexistence is bound up with the elements and the body they together\ncompose? It is obvious at any rate that in what he says of the\npsyche, and its alternate life in the visible and the invisible,\nParmenides is not speaking as a physiologist, but as an adherent of\nthe Orphic-Pythagorean theosophy. While reserving for himself his\nknowledge of \"Truth\" and unalterable Being, he could select as he\nliked among the \"opinions of men\" when speaking only hypothetically.\nIn his doctrine as a practical teacher with an ethical purpose {374}\nin view he preferred to adopt the conceptions of the Pythagoreans\nwith whom he lived in close association.[30\\11]\n\n\u00a7 5\n\nIonic physiology had fixed its attention on Nature as a whole, and\non the phenomena of life displayed in every nook and corner of the\nuniverse; man, as a mere ripple on the surface of the ocean of\nbecoming and taking form, was almost entirely neglected. A\nphilosophy that made it its main effort to learn the nature of man,\nand, still further, with the knowledge so acquired, to show man the\nway and purpose of his living, had to try other paths.\n\nThis is what Pythagoras of Samos did. What he called his\n\"Philosophy\"[31\\11] was in essence a practical effort. Plato[32\\11]\ntells us that Pythagoras was so peculiarly honoured because he\ndiscovered a special mode of directing one's life. A distinct way of\nliving, formed on a religious and ethical basis, was his creation.\nHow far his \"polymathy\",[33\\11] which indubitably contained already\nthe substance of Pythagorean science, may have become a system in\nhis hands, is not distinctly known. What is certain is that in\nKroton he formed a society which, together with the strict rules in\naccordance with which he organized their manner of life for his\nassociates, eventually spread far and wide among the Ach\u00e6an and\nDorian cities of the Italian \"great Greece\". In this society a\nprofound conception of human life and its purposes was given\npractical and visible application, and to have brought this about\nmust be regarded as the act and the special service of Pythagoras.\nThe fundamental conception of this way of life, except in so far as\nit may have contained from the beginning a mystic philosophy of\nnumbers, was by no means the special invention of Pythagoras; the\nnew and potent feature which he introduced was the force of\npersonality which was able to give life and body to the ideal. What\nwas apparently lacking in similar movements in ancient Greece was\nnow provided by a great man who for his followers was a pattern and\nan example, a leader inspiring imitation and emulation. His\npersonality became a centre to which a whole community was attracted\nby a sort of inward necessity. Before very long this founder of a\ncommunity appeared to his followers as a superman, unique and\nincomparable among all other men. Some lines of Empedokles,[34\\11]\nwho did not himself belong to the Pythagorean society, bear witness\nto this fact, and to his followers Pythagoras became in memory a\nsaint or even a god in human form, and they related legends of the\nmiracles he had {375} performed. For us it is difficult to form a\nconnected picture or trace the real features of the man beneath the\ndazzling halo of the saint.\n\nThe teaching which enabled him to knit together his followers in a\nfar closer bond of fellowship in living than had been achieved by\nany Orphic sect, must still in the main have coincided with what in\nthe Orphic doctrine immediately related to the religious life. He\ntoo pointed out the way of salvation for the soul and his doctrine\nof the soul formed the central feature of his philosophy.\n\nSo far as our scanty and dubious evidence serves us, the substance\nof the Pythagorean doctrine of the soul may be stated as follows.\n\nThe soul of man, once more regarded entirely as the \"double\" of the\nvisible body and its powers, is a daimonic immortal being[35\\11]\nthat has been cast down from divine heights and for a punishment is\nconfined within the \"custody\" of the body.[36\\11] It has no real\nrelationship with the body; it is not what may be called the\npersonality of the individual visible man; any soul may dwell in any\nbody.[37\\11] When death separates it from the body the soul must\nfirst endure a period of purgation in Hades[38\\11] and then return\nagain to the upper world. The souls invisibly swarm about the\nliving;[39\\11] in the tremulous motion of motes in the sunbeam the\nPythagoreans saw the movement of the \"souls\".[40\\11] The whole air\nis full of souls.[41\\11] Upon earth, however, the soul must seek out\nanother body, and this may be repeated many times. So it wanders a\nlong way, passing through many bodies of men and beasts.[42\\11] Very\nancient tradition[43\\11] said that Pythagoras himself remembered the\nearlier incarnations through which his soul had passed (and of which\nhe gave information for the instruction and warning of the\nfaithful). Here, too, the doctrine of the soul's transmigrations\ntook on an edificatory character in a religious and ethical sense.\nThe conditions of the new incarnations and the character of the new\nlifetime are governed by the performances of the past life. What the\nsoul has done in the past, that it must suffer in its own person\nwhen it becomes a man again.[44\\11]\n\nIt is thus of primary importance both for the present life and for\nfuture incarnations to know and to follow the methods of salvation\ndelivered by Pythagoras to his followers. The society points out the\nway to its company of the faithful in purifications and initiations,\nin a \"Pythagorean life\"[45\\11] entirely organized with the same\npurpose in view--to \"follow the god\".[46\\11] Much of the old ritual\nsymbolism that had been {376} in use for ages must have been\nincorporated in this Pythagorean asceticism.[47\\11] The theological\nethic of asceticism was essentially negative in character, and here,\ntoo, it meant nothing more than a protecting of the soul against the\nattacks of external evil that might come and pollute it.[48\\11] All\nthat matters is to keep the soul pure: no need for moral\nreformation--only that it be kept free from external evil. The fact\nof immortality, the soul's perpetuity, stands fast and unalterable;\nas it was from the beginning so it must ever be and live.[49\\11] To\nlift it at last altogether from this earthly existence and restore\nit to a free divine state of being--that, at least, was the final\ngoal.[50\\11]\n\nThe practical philosophy of the Pythagorean school is founded upon a\nconception of the soul as absolutely distinct from \"nature\", and, in\nfact, opposed to it. It is thrust into the life of nature, but it is\nin a foreign world where it preserves its self-enclosed\nindividuality intact and from which it escapes into independence to\nundergo ever-renewed incarnations. Its origin is supra-mundane, and\nso, too, when liberated from the shackles of natural life it will\none day be enabled to return to a supernatural existence as a\nspirit.\n\nNot one of these ideas is achieved by a process of scientific\nthinking. Physiology, the science of the world and all the phenomena\nof the world could never lead to the conception of the soul's\nseparateness from nature and its life. It was not from Greek\nscience, but neither was it, as ancient tradition would have us\nbelieve, from foreign lands, that Pythagoras got his belief in the\nfallen nature of the soul, descended from supra-mundane heights to\nthis earthly nature, and in its long pilgrimage through many bodies\non the completion of which it is to be free at last, through\npurifications and initiations. He may have owed much to his travels;\nfrom his stay in Egypt, perhaps, he may (like Demokritos after him)\nhave derived the stimulus to his mathematical discoveries and much\nelse besides of the \"learning\" which Herakleitos ascribes to him.\nHis doctrine of the soul, on the other hand, simply reproduces in\nessentials the fanciful ideas of the old popular psychology, as it\nhad been enlarged and transformed by the _theologi_ and the\npurification priests. Tradition was right in its estimation of his\ncharacter, when it set him in this company and made him the pupil of\nPherekydes of Syros, the _theologos_.[51\\11]\n\nIt can hardly be doubted that Pythagoras himself laid the\nfoundations of the Pythagorean science--the doctrine of the creation\nof the world and perhaps, too, the interpretation of {377} all being\nand becoming in the world as due to the action and relation of\nnumbers, as the essential basis of all things--all this, at least in\nelementary outline, must have been handed on by him to his\nfollowers. After his death the two sides of his doctrine continued\nto develop for a period in loose conjunction side by side; the\nguidance of life by the mystical and religious philosophy (though\nthis, indeed, was hardly capable of further development), and the\nscientific interest which grew into a fairly elaborate system.\nIndeed, with the break-up of the Pythagorean society and its\nbifurcation in the fifth century, the scattered members of the band\nnow brought into touch with the scientific studies of other\ncommunities and cut off from the ideal of the Pythagorean life which\ncould only be realized within the limits of the society, were forced\nto continue their scientific studies in solitude. Pythagorean\nscience, evolving, as it did, a picture of the world as a whole, no\nless than Ionian physiology deprived the soul of the unique and,\nindeed, antagonistic relation to nature that Pythagorean theology\nhad given it. Philolaos, conceiving it in a manner strictly\nconforming to the mathematical and musical theory, called the soul a\n_Harmony_ of contrary elements united together in the body.[52\\11]\nIf, however, the soul is only a binding-together of opposites to\nunity and harmony, then it must, when death breaks up the\nconjunction of the united elements, itself pass away and\nperish.[53\\11] It is difficult to imagine how the older Pythagorean\nfaith in the soul as an independent being dwelling in the body and\nsurviving it--in the immortal soul, in fact--could be accommodated\nto this conception. Can it be that the two conceptions were not\noriginally intended to be brought into conjunction at all, or were\nnot meant to exclude each other? Ancient tradition spoke of\ndifferent groups among the followers of Pythagoras who had also\ndifferent objects, methods, and aims of study; nor shall we be\ninclined to deny all credibility to this tradition when we observe\nhow little, in fact, Pythagorean science and Pythagorean faith had\nto do with each other.[54\\11]\n\nAnd yet we have to admit that the same Philolaos, who described the\nsoul as a harmony of its body, also spoke of the soul as an\nindependent and imperishable being. We may well doubt whether these\ntwo contradictory utterances can really come from the same man and\napply to the same object; though the same man might really speak in\nvarying language about the one soul if he recognized different\n_parts_ of the soul of which different truths held good; and this\nwas, in fact, first suggested by the Pythagorean school.[55\\11]\n{378}\n\n\u00a7 6\n\nEmpedokles of Akragas did not belong to the Pythagorean school (it\nlost its external unity in his time); but he approaches Pythagorean\ndoctrine so closely in his opinions and teaching about the soul of\nman, its problems and destinies, that there can be no doubt about\nPythagorean influence upon the formation of his convictions on these\npoints. His many-sided activities also included the study of natural\nscience and he took up the researches of the Ionic Physiologists\nwith zeal and a marked aptitude for the observation and synthesis of\nnatural phenomena. But the roots of his peculiar individuality--the\n_pathos_ which moved and agitated him--lay in a practical activity\nfar removed from scientific investigation and representing a\nbrilliant resuscitation in a very different age of the character and\npractice of the _mantis_, the purification-priest and\nmagical-physician of the sixth century. The introduction to his\n\"Purifications\"[56\\11] gives a picture of his triumphal progress\nfrom city to city, crowned with ribbons and garlands, adored as a\ngod and questioned by thousands: \"Where is the road to healing?\" He\nintends to give his disciple Pausanias the results of his own\nexperience and to teach him all his remedies for disease and their\nvirtues, the arts of stilling the winds and stirring them up,\nproducing drought or rain, raising the dead from Hades.[57\\11] He\nhimself boasted of being a magician and his pupil Gorgias saw him\n\"do magic\".[58\\11] Through him those efforts of the _Kathartes_, the\nexpiation-priest and seer, which an earlier and already\ndistant-seeming time had honoured as the highest form of wisdom, at\nlast achieved a voice and literary expression--an expression given\nthem with the fullest personal experience of the truth of their\nclaims by one who was convinced of their power to control nature and\nsure of the godlike status of the man who had reached these almost\nsuperhuman heights of empire over nature. As a god, an immortal no\nlonger subject to death, he passed through all the land--so\nEmpedokles himself tells us.[59\\11] He may have won credit in many\nplaces. He did not, indeed, found an ordered society of disciples\nand adherents, a sect: this does not seem to have been his\nintention. But he alone as a unique and unparalleled being, a\nself-confident personality of the greatest force and weight\nimpressed himself masterfully both as mystic and politician upon the\nmundane affairs of his contemporaries and pointed the way beyond\ntime and all things temporal to a blessed and divine state as the\nfinal goal of human life. He {379} must have made a profound\nimpression upon the men among whom he lived,[60\\11] though he\ndisappeared from their midst like a comet, and left no permanent\ntraces of his presence behind him. Many legends still witness to the\nastonishment that his appearance among men provoked, more especially\nthose legends that in varying form related his end.[61\\11] They are\nall expressions of the same belief: that he, as his own verses had\nforetold, in his departure did not have to suffer death; he had\nvanished, \"translated\" body and soul together to an everlasting\ndivine life, as once Menelaos had been and so many great figures of\nthe ancient days, and even a few Heroes of more recent times.[62\\11]\nOnce more the ancient conception shows in this story that it still\nlives on: immortal life can only be obtained by undissolved union of\nthe psyche with its body. Such a legend hardly did justice to\nEmpedokles' own idea. When he claimed to be a god who would never\ndie he certainly did not mean that his psyche would remain for ever\nbound to his body. On the contrary, he thought that in \"death\", as\nmen[63\\11] call it, it would be freed from this last corporeal\nenvelope[64\\11] and never again have to enter into a body, but would\nlive for ever in freedom and divinity. His conception of the\nconscious after-life of the psyche was as different as it was\npossible for it to be from the Homeric conception on which that\ntranslation legend was based.\n\nEmpedokles united in his own person to an astonishing degree the\nmost sober attempts at a study of nature that was scientific\naccording to its lights, and quite irrational beliefs and\ntheological speculations. Occasionally the scientific impulse passes\nover to influence even the world of his beliefs;[65\\11] but as a\nrule theology and natural science exist side by side in his mind\nquite independently. As a physiologist he inherited the already\nextensive and variously developed stock of ideas belonging to the\nolder generations of inquirers and thinkers. He himself was able to\nunite conceptions derived from the most different sources into an\noriginal whole that satisfied himself at least. Becoming and\npassing-away, all qualitative change, were denied by him as by the\nEleatics, but the permanent substance of Being is for him no single\nindivisible unity. There are four \"roots\" of things, the four bodies\nof elements, which in this division are for the first time clearly\ndistinguished. It is the mixture and separation of the essentially\nindivisible elements that cause the appearance of becoming and\nperishing; and those two processes are caused by the two\nforces--clearly distinguished from the elements--of attraction and\nrepulsion, {380} Love and Hate, which in the creative process\nstruggle and in turn overmaster each other until at last, in the\nfinal victory of one of the two forces, all things are either united\nor divided; in either case an organic world ceases to exist. The\npresent state of the universe is one in which \"Love\", the tendency\nto amalgamation of differences, is prevailing; when this tendency is\ncompleted, there will be an absolute levelling-out of all\ndistinction; a result which Empedokles, a quietist in his scientific\nstudies as well, regards as the most desirable end.\n\nIn this world, then, that experiences only mechanical movement and\nchange, and from whose evolution Empedokles by an ingenious turn is\nable to exclude all idea of purpose, there are also to be found\nsouls; or rather psychical powers which grow up entirely within it.\nSense-perception is expressly distinguished from the capacity of\nthought by Empedokles.[66\\11] The former takes place when each of\nthe elements, from the mixture of which the perceiving being has its\norigin, comes into contact with, and so becomes aware of, the same\nelements in the object perceived, through the \"passages\" that\nconnect the interior of the body with the exterior.[67\\11]\n\"Thinking\" has its seat in the heart's blood, where the elements and\ntheir powers are mixed most equally. Or rather this blood actually\n_is_ thinking and the power of thought;[68\\11] the material\nsubstance and its vital functions thus also for Empedokles\ncompletely coincide. Plainly, nothing in the nature of a permanent\nsubstantial \"soul\" is here intended by the thinking-power of the\n\"mind\", but rather a capacity of bringing together and unifying the\nindividual sense-activities;[69\\11] a capacity no less than the\nindividual powers of sensation bound up with the elements, the\nsenses, and the body.[70\\11] With the varying constitution of the\nbody, they too vary.[71\\11] Both capacities, that of\nsense-perception, and that of thought, as vital expressions of the\nmatter that is combined together in the organic creature, are\npresent in all organisms; in men, in beasts, and even in\nplants.[72\\11]\n\nIf we give the name of \"soul\"[73\\11] to the sum of these psychical\npowers--a name generally reserved for the common permanent\nsubstratum of the changing psychical activities--we cannot avoid\nconcluding, in accordance with the logic of this philosopher, that\nthe \"soul\" must be perishable. With the death and destruction of the\nindividual the elementary parts that go to compose him are\ndisunited, and the soul which in this case is nothing but the\nhighest resultant of that composition, must itself disappear with\ntheir dissolution--as it had come into being with their\nunion.[74\\11] {381}\n\nIt might seem as if Empedokles himself was as far as possible\nremoved from drawing such conclusions from his own premises. No one\nspeaks more distinctly and forcibly of the spiritual, individual\nbeings that dwell in men and in other creatures of nature as well.\nThey are regarded by him as Daimones fallen to the corporeal world,\nwho have to pass through many different forms of life till they may\nat last hope for release.\n\nIn the introduction to his poem on Nature, he describes, from his\nown experience, and the information of the Daimones who had once led\nhis soul down to this earthly Vale of Grief,[75\\11] how by an\nancient decree of the gods and the compulsion of Necessity, every\ndaimon that has \"polluted\" itself by drinking the blood or eating\nthe flesh of living beings,[76\\11] or has broken its oath,[77\\11] is\nbanished for a long period[78\\11] from the company of the blessed.\nIt is thrust down to the \"Meadow of Disaster\", into the realm of\ncontradiction,[79\\11] the cave of misery upon this earth, and must\nnow wander through many \"painful ways of life\"[80\\11] in changing\nincarnations. \"Thus, I myself was once a boy and also a maiden, a\nbush, a bird, and a voiceless fish in the salty flood\" (ll. 11, 12 =\n_fr._ 117). This daimon that in expiation of its crime must wander\nthrough the forms of men, beasts, and even plants, is evidently no\nother than what popular speech and that of theologians as well\ncalled the \"psyche\", the soul-spirit.[81\\11] In all essentials\nthough perhaps in clearer language, Empedokles merely\nrepeated[82\\11] what the adherents of the doctrine of Transmigration\nhad long told of its divine origin, its fall and penal banishment in\nearthly bodies. So, too, when as teacher of the means that bring\nsalvation, he tells how more gracious forms and conditions of life\nmay be obtained in the series of births, till at last complete\nrelease from rebirth is achieved,[83\\11] Empedokles follows in the\nfootsteps of the purification-priests and _theologi_ of old. It is a\nmatter of keeping the daimon within us free from the pollutions that\nbind it fast to the earthly life. To this end the methods of\nreligious purification are most efficacious; Empedokles respects\nthem quite as much as did the old _Kathartai_. It is necessary to\nkeep the internal daimon far removed from every kind of\n\"sin\",[84\\11] more particularly from the drinking of blood and the\neating of meat which must necessarily involve the murder of kinsmen\ndaimones which are dwelling in the slaughtered beasts.[85\\11] By\npurification and asceticism (which here again dispenses with a\npositive form of morality aimed at reforming the man) a gradual\nprocess to purer and better births is achieved;[86\\11] in the end\nthe persons thus reborn in a purified condition {382} become seers,\npoets, doctors, and are the leaders of mankind.[87\\11] Finally, when\nthey have emerged superior even to these highest steps of earthly\nlife, they return to the other immortals, and become themselves gods\nreleased from human misery, escaping death, and now\nindestructible.[88\\11] Empedokles regard himself as one who has\nreached the last stage,[89\\11] and points out to others the way up\nto it.\n\nBetween what Empedokles the mystic here tells us of the soul that\nwas once living its divine life, but has since been plunged into the\nworld of the elements, though it is not for ever bound to them; and\nwhat Empedokles the physiologist teaches of the psychical powers\nthat dwell in the elements and are bound to the body that is\ncomposed of the elements and perish with their dissolution, there\nseems to be a hopeless contradiction. And yet if we are to grasp the\nwhole truth of what Empedokles means, we must neither leave on one\nside half of what he says,[90\\11] nor yet by well-meaning\ninterpretation seek to bring the philosopher into harmony with\nhimself,[91\\11] when he clearly speaks with two different voices.\nThe two voices say different things, and yet in the mind of\nEmpedokles, there is no contradiction in what they say, for they are\ndealing with totally distinct objects. The psychical powers and\nfaculties of feeling and perception which are functions of matter,\nborn in matter, and determined by it, together with the thinking\nfaculty that is no other than the heart's blood of men--these\nneither make up the character and content of that soul-spirit which\ndwells in men, beasts, and flowers, nor are they expressions of its\nactivity. They are entirely bound up with the elements and their\ncombination, and in man they are joined to the body and its organs;\nthey are the powers and faculties of this body, and not of a special\nand invisible entity, the soul. The soul-daimon is not made out of\nthe elements, nor is it for ever chained to them. It enters as a\nstranger into this world in which the only permanent component parts\nare[92\\11] the four elements, and the two forces of Love and Hate;\nand it enters it from another world, the world of gods and spirits,\nto its detriment; the elements cast it about from one to another\n\"and they all hate it\" (_fr._ 115, 12, l. 35 M.). This living soul,\nwith its independent existence, that thus enters into foreign and\nhostile surroundings, only enters into such earthly creatures as\nalready possess senses, feeling and perception, together with reason\nor the faculty of thinking, the crowning manifestation of their\nmaterial union. It is, however, as little identical with these\npsychical faculties as it is with the mixture of elementary matter\nor, in {383} the case of men, with the heart's blood. It exists,\nunmixed and incapable of mixture, _alongside_ the body and its\nfaculties which indeed only have life--\"what men call life\"--(_fr._\n15, 2, l. 117 M.) when united with it. When they are separated from\nit they fall into dissolution; not so the soul, which continues its\njourney and visits other dwelling places, and does not share in\ntheir dissolution.\n\nThis peculiar dualistic doctrine reflects the two sides of\nEmpedokles' own mental activity. He probably intended in this way to\nunite the views of both the physiologists and the theologians. To\nthe Greeks, such a twofold division of the inner life may have\nseemed less surprising than it does to us. The conception of a\n\"soul\" that as an independent, unique, and self-contained spiritual\nbeing dwells within the body, while the body does not receive its\nintellectual faculties of perceiving, feeling, willing and thinking\nfrom the soul, but exercises these by its own power--this conception\nagrees at bottom with the ideas of popular psychology that are as a\nrule described or implied in the Homeric poems.[93\\11] The only\ndifference is that these ideas of poet and populace are elaborated\nand defined by the speculations of theologians and philosophers. How\ndeeply impressed upon the Greek mind such conceptions, derived\neventually from Homer, actually were, can be measured by the fact\nthat a conception of the twofold origin of psychic activity, its\ntwofold nature and sphere of action, closely related to that of\nEmpedokles, is continually recurring in more advanced stages of\nphilosophy. It occurs not merely in Plato, but even in Aristotle,\nwho in addition to the \"soul\" that directs and expresses itself in\nthe physico-organic nature of man, recognizes another being of\ndivine descent that enters into man \"from without\", the \"mind\"\n(~nou=s~) which is separable both from the soul and from the body,\nand is alone destined to survive the death of the man to which it\nwas assigned.[94\\11] In the doctrine of Empedokles, too, it is a\nstranger-guest from the distant land of gods that enters into man to\ngive him a soul. This being is indeed far below the \"mind\" of\nAristotle in philosophic importance; nevertheless, in the\nintroduction of this Stranger into the world composed of the\nelements and vital faculties, a sense of the absolute uniqueness of\nspirit, its unlikeness to everything material, its essential\ndistinctness from matter, finds expression, if only in a limited\ntheological fashion.\n\nIn the light of such theological considerations, the soul seems also\nto Empedokles something essentially distinct from its prototype, the\nHomeric psyche, which after its separation {384} from the body\npasses to the twilight of a shadowy dream-life. To him, the soul is\nof divine race, too noble for this world of visibility, and only\nwhen it escapes from this world does it seem to him to begin its\nreal and full life. Though confined within the body, it has its\nseparate existence there; it has no concern with the everyday\nbusiness of perception and sensation--not even with that of\nthinking, which is nothing else but the heart's blood. But it is\nactive in the \"higher\" mode of knowledge, in ecstatic\ninspiration;[95\\11] to it alone belongs the profound insight of the\nphilosopher who is enabled to pass beyond the limits of mere\nexperience and sense-perception, and behold the totality of the\nuniverse in its true nature.[96\\11] To it alone apply all the\nrequirements of ethical and religious systems--duties in this higher\nsense belong only to the soul; it is something in the nature of a\n\"conscience\". Its highest duty is to free itself from the unhallowed\nunion with the body, and the elements of this world; the rules of\npurification and asceticism refer solely to it.\n\nBetween this soul-daimon that yearns after its divine home, and the\nworld of the elements, there exists no inward bond or necessary\nconnexion. And yet, since they have become implicated in each\nother's existence, a certain parallelism exists between them in\ncharacter and destiny. In the mechanically moved world, too, the\nseparate and particular phenomena tend back again towards their\nstarting point, the inwardly coherent Unity from which they once\ntook their origin. A day will come when, after all struggle has been\ndone away, \"Love\" alone will have absolute rule; and this means for\nthe poet--who in his description even of this world of mechanical\nattraction and repulsion interpolates half-realized ethical\nconcepts[97\\11]--a state of absolute goodness and happiness. If\nthere is no longer any world, then, until another one is created, no\nsoul-daimon can be bound any more to the individual organisms of a\nworld. Have they then all returned to the blessed communion of the\nimmortal gods? It appears that not even the gods and daimones (and\nso not the spirits enclosed in world as \"souls\") are regarded by\nEmpedokles as having everlasting life. \"Long-living\" is the name he\nrepeatedly applies to them; he never distinctly ascribes _eternal_\nlife to them.[98\\11] They, too, shall for a period enjoy \"the\nhappiness of profoundest peace\" until, just as the elements and\nforces are drawn into the unity of the Sphairos, they, too, come\ntogether in the unity of the godlike Universal Mind, thence at a new\nworld-creation to appear once more as individual separate\nbeing.[99\\11] {385}\n\n\u00a7 7\n\nEmpedokles took a fully developed \"hylozoic\" system (which in\nitself, with its introduction of the motive forces of Conflict and\nLove, already betrayed a latent dualism) and attempted to combine\nwith it an extreme form of spiritualist teaching. His attempt\nillustrates very clearly the observation that a philosophic science\nof nature in itself could never lead to the establishment of the\naxiom that the individual \"soul\" after its separation from the body\ncontinues to exist, still less that it is indestructible. Any one\nwho still felt it necessary to assert that axiom could find support\nfor it only by allowing physiology to be either overwhelmed by\ntheological speculation, or else supplemented by it in the manner\nattempted by Empedokles.\n\nSuch an attempt to reconcile the irreconcilable can have found few\nadherents among those who were accessible to scientific ideas, nor\nwas it likely to tempt the physiological philosophy from the path\nwhich it had hitherto followed. Soon after Empedokles, and in\nessentials hardly influenced by him, Anaxagoras and Demokritos\ndeveloped those doctrinal systems which were the last products of\nthe independent speculation of Ionia. Demokritos was the founder and\ncompleter of the atomic doctrine according to which there exist \"in\nreality\" only the indivisible, minutest material bodies--which,\nwhile qualitatively indistinguishable, yet differ in shape,\nposition, and arrangement in space as well as in bulk and\nweight--and empty space. He was obliged to seek for the \"soul\"\n(which to the _materialist_ may easily present itself as being a\nseparate, substantial, self-existent thing) among those minutest\nbodies out of which the whole fabric of the world of appearance is\nbuilt up. The soul is that which confers movement upon the\ninherently motionless collections of bodies. It is composed of the\nround and smooth atoms which, in the universal condition of unrest\nthat keeps all the atoms in agitation, are the most easily moved,\nfor they offer least resistance to change of position, and can most\neasily penetrate others. These atoms compose fire and the soul. It\nis the soul-atom--one being inserted between every two of the other\natoms[100\\11]--which gives these their movement; and it is from all\nthe soul-atoms uniformly disposed throughout the whole body that the\nbody gets its movement, whence also (though it must be admitted in\nan unintelligible manner) comes the power of perception, which\nequally depends on movement, and the thought arising thence, of this\nsame body. {386} During the life-time of the individual body, the\ncontinuance of the soul-atoms is secured by the breathing which\ncontinually replaces the smooth soul-particles that are as\ncontinually being expelled from the whole atom-complex by the\npressure of the surrounding atmosphere. The breathing is always\ndrawing in fresh soul-stuff from the air which is full of floating\nsoul-atoms, and supplies it to the body. A time comes, however, when\nthe breathing refuses this function, and death occurs, which is\nsimply the insufficient supply of these moving and animating\natoms.[101\\11] With the coming of death, there is an end to the\nunion of the atoms, whose amalgamation had formed the particular\nliving organism. Neither the soul-atoms nor any of the other atoms\nare destroyed; they do not alter in kind; but from the loose state\nof aggregation which even in the living body hardly amounted to an\nabsolute unity to which a single common name could be applied--from\nthis they now escape entirely. It is scarcely possible to see how,\non this view of what essentially constitutes mental and vital\nphenomena, as a mere resultant of the separate and individual\nactivities of individual and disconnected bodies, the unity of the\nliving organism and the spiritual entity could ever come into being.\nIt is even more evident that a unified \"soul\" could not possibly\ncontinue to exist after the dissolution which takes place at death\nof the atoms that in their union made up the organism. And, in fact,\nthe soul-atoms disperse;[102\\11] they return whence they came into\nthe restless mass of world-stuff. The human individual, in this view\nof the case, perishes in death entirely.[103\\11] The materials out\nof which he was shaped and composed are indestructible, and reserved\nfor future construction; but his personality--the invisible\npersonality, the \"soul\", just as much as the visible--has but a\nsingle existence strictly limited to its one appearance in time. The\ncontinued existence of the soul after death, an immortality in\nwhatever manner the thing may be conceived, is here for the first\ntime in the history of Greek thought, expressly denied. The Atomist,\nwith the candid precision that distinguishes him, draws the\nnecessary consequences of his premises.\n\nAnaxagoras strikes out a path almost directly opposed to this\nmaterialist doctrine. As the first decisive and conscious dualist\namong Greek philosophers, he takes the material substratum of being,\nthe inexhaustible many of distinctly characterized and distinctly\nseparate \"Seeds\" of things--which are nevertheless indistinguishably\nintermingled with each other--and sets over against them a force\nwhich he {387} obviously did not mean to derive from them, to which\nhe gives a name usually attached to the faculty of thought in man,\nand which in any case he thought of as analogous to that\nfaculty.[104\\11] This \"Mind\", simple, unmixed and unchangeable, is\ngiven such titles and adjectives that it is impossible to mistake\nthe effort of Anaxagoras to think of it as something distinct from\neverything material, and in fact, absolutely immaterial and\nincorporeal.[105\\11] It is at once power of thought and force of\nwill; at the creation of the world it gives the first circular\nimpulse to the intrinsically motionless lump of matter; the creation\nof distinct forms in accordance with a conscious purpose is begun by\nit--though the carrying out of this purpose is indeed to be\ncompleted in accordance with pure mechanical laws without the\ninterference of \"Mind\". This \"Mind\" that plans and orders but does\nnot make the world, that with the conscious insight of its\nomniscient wisdom[106\\11] influences matter without being influenced\nin turn, that moves without being moved;[107\\11] set over against\nthe multiplicity of things as an indivisible unity,[108\\11] \"having\nnothing in common with anything outside itself\"[109\\11] but entirely\nself-contained[110\\11]--how shall we conceive of it otherwise than\nas an almost personified, transcendent divine power confronting the\nworld of matter as something foreign to it, ruling the world from\nwithout by magical, not mechanical, means?\n\nBut this transcendent is also completely immanent. **Wherever in\nthis world life and independent movement are found, there, too, the\nmind as the source of life and movement must be active. \"Mind rules\nall that has soul\" says Anaxagoras.[111\\11] In saying this he has\nnot indeed asserted the presence of \"Mind\" within the animated being\nnor yet identity of nature as between soul and mind. But when we\nhear that Mind \"goes through all things,[112\\11] that in everything\nthere is a part of all things, except of mind, and in some things of\nmind also\",[113\\11] that must imply the penetration of many\nassociations of matter by mind (hardly any longer to be thought of\nas immaterial) whereby the previously asserted transcendency of mind\nseems to be given up. At any rate, as such associations in which is\n\"Mind\", living and animated beings are regarded. It is in them that\n\"Mind\" is present in continual, equal creativeness, though in\ndifferent degrees;[114\\11] indeed, Mind is or constitutes that very\nthing that we call the \"soul\" of a living being.[115\\11] Among these\nliving beings, which exist upon the moon,[116\\11] as well as on\nearth, are not only men and beasts, but also plants.[117\\11] In all\nthese \"Mind\" is active; without losing any of its purity or unity,\nit is mixed with them.[118\\11] {388} How we are to conceive the\nomnipotent Mind, whose oneness and self-containedness has been so\nemphatically asserted, as nevertheless entering simultaneously into\nthe infinity of individual being--that certainly remains obscure. It\nis clear, however, that having thus derived all animated being from\nthe single World-Mind, Anaxagoras could not speak of the continued\nexistence of individual, self-existent \"souls\" after the dissolution\nof the material concretions in which moving and animating\n\"soul-force\" had once lived. The view is definitely ascribed to him\nthat separation from the body is also \"the soul's death\".[119\\11]\nNothing, indeed, of the component parts that belong to the whole\nperishes, and no change in its nature takes place. So \"Mind\", whose\nmanifestations the \"souls\" were, maintains itself unaltered and\nundiminished; but after the dissolution of the united, which \"the\nHellenes\" regard as its destruction,[120\\11] though the component\nparts of the individual remain, yet not _that_ particular mixture in\nwhich the peculiarity of the individual was inherent--\"Mind\"\nremains, but not the soul . . .\n\nThus, the first distinct separation of the intellectual thinking\nprinciple from the material substance with which it was--not fused,\nmuch less identified, but--contrasted in sovereignty and\nindependence, did not lead to the recognition of the\nindestructibility of the individual spirit.\n\nShall we say that the mental, self-moved, life-giving principle,\nwhether set over against the material and corporeal or indivisibly\nunited with it, is for the physiologist always something\nuniversal--that the essentially real is impersonal? For him the\nindividual, the personality conscious of itself and of the outer\nworld, can be nothing but a manifestation of the universal, whether\nthe latter is regarded as fixed and at rest, or as a living process\nthat untiringly develops itself, recruits itself, and reconstructs\nitself in ever renewed creations. The only permanent, unchanging\nreality is the universal, the essential and fundamentally real\nNature which appears in all individual things, speaks out of their\nmouth, and, in reality, only works and lives in them. The individual\nhuman soul has its indestructibility only in its identity with the\nuniversal that represents itself in it. The individual forms of\n\"appearance\", having no independence of their own, cannot\npermanently abide.\n\nThe view that imperishable life belongs to the individual soul could\nonly be reached by a line of thought that took as a fact and held\nfast to it as something given that the individual spirit is a\nreality. (Its appearance and disappearance in the {389} midst of the\none universe was indeed for the physiologists the true miracle, the\nproblem never satisfactorily solved.) Such a belief in\nindividuality, the belief in an independently existent individual\nsubstance that had never had a beginning and could therefore never\nhave an end, was the contribution, however fancifully it might be\nexpressed, of the theologians and the mystics. For them immortality,\nthe power of substantive duration unlimited by time, was extended\nalso to include the individual. The individual soul is for them a\nself-existent, individual, divine being, indestructible because it\nis divine.\n\nGreek philosophy underwent many changes in the course of its\nspeculations during the following ages; but exactly in proportion as\nit, to a greater or lesser degree, accepted theological elements or\non the other hand rejected such elements, did it give fundamental\nsupport to the view of the soul's immortality, or grudgingly admit\nit, or absolutely reject it.\n\n\nNOTES TO CHAPTER XI\n\n[1\\11: ~psuch\u00ea/~ = \"life,\" \"concept of life,\" in Homer (though not\nindeed used to denote psychical powers during lifetime): see above,\npp. 30, 31. So, too, occasionally in the remains of the Iambic and\nElegiac poets of the earliest period: Archil. 23; Tyrt. 10, 14; 11,\n5; Sol. 13, 46; Thgn. 568 f., 730; (Hippon. 43, 1?). ~psuch\u00ea/~ =\n\"life\" in the proverbial phrase ~peri\\ psuch\u00ea=s trechei=n~ (see\nWessel. and Valck. on Hdt. vii, 57; Jacobs on Ach. Tat., p. 896**).\n~psuch\u00ea/~ frequently = \"life\" in the idiom of the Attic orators (see\nMeuss, _Jahrb. f. Philol._ 1889, p. 803).]\n\n[2\\11: See above, pp. 5, 30. Even the Homeric poems in one case show\na slight uncertainty of language and of psychological conception\nwhen they use ~thumo/s~, the highest and most general of the powers\nof life dwelling within the visible and living man, in the sense of\n~psuch\u00ea/~, the double of the man who dwells as a lodger in his body,\nseparate and taking no part in the ordinary business of his life.\nThe ~thumo/s~ (see above, chap. i, n. 57) is active during the man's\nlifetime, is enclosed in the midriff (~en phresi\\ thumo\\s~) and when\nthat is overtaken by death is itself overwhelmed (~Ps~ 104): on the\narrival of death it leaves the body and perishes--while the\n~psuch\u00ea/~ flies away intact. The distinction is clearly maintained,\ne.g. in ~l~ 220 f.: \"fire destroys the body\" ~epei/ ken pr\u00f4=ta\nli/p\u00ea| leu/k' oste/a _thumo/s, psuch\u00ea\\ d'_ \u00eau/t' o/neiros\napoptame/n\u00ea pepo/t\u00eatai~. ~thumo/s~ and ~psuch\u00ea/~ therefore leave the\nbody of the slain man simultaneously (~thumou= kai\\ psuch\u00ea=s\nkekad\u00f4/n~ ~L~ 334, ~ph~ 154); but in very different ways. The\nrelation between them becomes, however, interchangeability in the\nsingle case when it is said of the ~thumo/s~ that _it_ in death will\nenter ~apo\\ me/le/\u00f4n do/mon A/idos ei/s\u00f4~--~\u00ca~ 131; in reality this\ncould only be said of that very different being, the ~psuch\u00ea/~.\n(When a fainting-fit has passed over we do indeed hear, not that the\n~psuch\u00ea/~--though this it was that had left the man: see above,\nchap. i, n. 8--but that ~es phre/na _thumo\\s_ age/rth\u00ea~, ~Ch~ 475,\n~e~ 458, ~\u00f4~ 349. This, however, is not a case of ~thumo/s~ instead\nof ~psuch\u00ea/~, but ~thumo/s~ is merely an abbreviated form of the\nwhole statement which would be in full: _both_ ~thumo/s~ and\n~psuch\u00ea/~ have now returned into the man; cf. ~E~ 696. It is a kind\nof synecdoche.) In the line ~\u00ca~ 131 we really, then, do have\n~thumo/s~ instead of ~psuch\u00ea/~ either as the result of a\nmisunderstanding of the real meaning of the two words or merely\nthrough an oversight. But never (and this is the most essential\npoint) do we have a case in Homer of the opposite exchange of\nsignificance: i.e. of ~psuch\u00ea/~ used in the sense ~thumo/s~ (~no/os,\nme/nos, \u00eator~, etc.), as meaning the mental power and its activity\nin the living and waking man. Just this, however, and more than\nthis, the sum and substance of all the mental powers in general, is\nwhat the word ~psuch\u00ea/~ means in the language of the philosophers\n(except those affected by religious tendencies). They left out of\naccount altogether that spiritual double of mankind whom the popular\npsychology called the ~psuch\u00ea/~, and were thus free to use the word\nto express the whole psychical content of the human individual. From\nthe fifth century onwards we find the word ~psuch\u00ea/~ used commonly,\nand even regularly, in this sense in the vocabulary of\nnon-philosophical poets and prose writers. Only theologians and\npoets, or philosophers of a theological tendency, continued to use\nthe {391} word in its ancient and primitive sense. Indeed, when the\nseparation of a spiritual being from the body of a man in death was\nbeing spoken of, ~psuch\u00ea/~ always continued to be the proper word\nfor this sense even in popular language. (An extremely rare example\nof ~thumo/s~ in this sense, comparable with ~\u00ca~ 131, is [Arist.]\n_Pepl_. 61 Bgk.; ~_thumo/n_ . . . aith\u00ea\\r lampro\\s e/chei~. In the\ncorresponding epigram, _Epigr. Gr._ 41, we have ~psuch\u00ea/n~.)]\n\n[3\\11: ~e/nioi~, among them Choirilos of Samos: D.L. i, 24 (from\nFavorinus): _Vors._^4, i, p. 1, 21.]\n\n[4\\11: Arist., _An._ 1, 2, p. 405a, 20 f. \"Aristotle and Hippias\"\nap. D.L. i, 24; _Vors._, p. 2, 1. ~ta\\ phuta\\ e/mpsucha z\u00f4=|a~,\n_Dox._ 438a, 6, b, 1.]\n\n[5\\11: Metaphorical language: ~Thal\u00ea=s \u00f4|\u00ea/th\u00ea pa/nta pl\u00ea/r\u00ea the\u00f4=n\nei=nai~, Arist., _An._ 1, 5, p. 411a, 8. ~to\\n ko/smon (e/mpsuchon\nkai\\) daimo/n\u00f4n pl\u00ea/r\u00ea~, D.L. i, 27; _Dox._ 301b, 2; _Vors._ p. 2,\n20. Pl., _Lg._ 899 B, is an allusion to the ~the\u00f4=n pl\u00ea/r\u00ea pa/nta~\n(as Krische remarks, _Theol. Lehr. d. Gr. Denker_, p. 37). There is\nperhaps a half-mocking reference to the words in the saying\nattributed by anecdotal tradition to Herakleitos: ~ei=nai kai\\\nentau=tha theou/s~ (i.e. in his own hearth) Arist., _PA._ 1, 5, p.\n645a, 17 ff. Hence Herakleitos himself was credited with the opinion\nof Thales in slightly altered form: ~pa/nta psuch\u00f4=n ei=nai kai\\\ndaimo/n\u00f4n pl\u00ea/r\u00ea~, D.L. ix, 7 (_Vors._, p. 68, 29), in the first\n(and valueless) of the two lists of the doctrines of Herakl. there\ngiven.]\n\n[6\\11: Arist., _Phys._ 3, 4, p. 203b, 10-14. _Dox._ 559, 18.\n_Vors._, p. 17, 35.]\n\n[7\\11: Anaximander, _fr._ 2 Mull. _Vors._, p. 15, 26. That\nAnaximander declared the soul to be \"like air\" is an erroneous\nstatement of Theodoret.: see Diels, _Dox._ 387b, 10 (_Vors._ 21,\n5).]\n\n[8\\11: Anaximenes in _Dox._ 278a, 12 ff.; b, 8 ff. _fr._ 2 Diels.]\n\n[9\\11: Anaxim. calls ~to\\n ae/ra theo/n~, i.e. it has divine power:\n_Dox._ 302b, 5; 531a, 17, b, 1-2. _Vors._ 24, 18. This at least is\nto be understood in the same sense in which Anaximander is said to\nhave called ~to\\ a/peiron, to\\ _thei=on_~ (Arist., _Phys._ 3, 4, p.\n203b, 13; _Vors._, p. 17, 35).]\n\n[10\\11: ~he\\n pa/nta ei=nai~, _fr._ 1 (Byw.); 50 (Diels).]\n\n[11\\11: Arist., _An._ 1, 2, p. 405a, 25 ff. _Vors._ 74, 30. Hkl. is\nalso meant in p. 405a, 5. _Dox._ 471, 2 (Arius Didymus); 389a, 3\nff.]\n\n[12\\11: Arist., p. 405a. 25 ff. Hkl. _fr._ 68 (36 D.).]\n\n[13\\11: S.E., _M._ 7, 127, 129-31. _Vors._ 75, 14 ff.]\n\n[14\\11: ~ho theo/s~ is both the Universal Fire, that transforms\nitself into the world, and at the same time its power (and ~lo/gos~:\n_frr._ 2 [1], 92 [2]): _fr._ 36 (67). ~to\\ pu=r theo\\n\nhupei/l\u00eaphen~, Herakl.: Cl. Al., _Prot._ 5, 64, p. 55 P. [_Vors._ n.\n8 A 8]. ~pu=r noero\\n to\\n theo\\n (ei=nai ephthe/gxato)~, Hippol.,\n_RH._ i, 4, p. 10, 57 Mill.--\"Zeus\" as metaphor for this universal\nfire (hence ~ouk ethe/lei kai\\ ethe/lei~), the \"only wise one\";\n_fr._ 65 (32).]\n\n[15\\11: ~h\u00ea epixen\u00f4thei=sa toi=s h\u00eamete/rois s\u00f4/masin apo\\ tou=\nperie/chontos moi=ra (perie/ch.~ = the universal Fire) is said of the\nsoul and its reasoning faculty ap. S.E., _M._ vii, 130; _Vors._, p.\n75, 19; (cf. ~aporro\u00ea\\ kai\\ moi=ra ek tou= phronou=ntos~, Plu., _Is.\net O._ 77, p. 382 B). This is fully Herakleitean in thought if not\nalso in actual form of expression.]\n\n[16\\11: That Herakleitos drew the conclusions affecting also the\n\"Soul\"--the spiritual man--freely paraphrased in the text, arising\nnecessarily out of his doctrine of the perpetual change in the\nmaterial substance that excludes all possibility of lasting\nself-identity in any object (_frr._ 40, 41, 42, 81 = 91, 12, 49 a),\nis proved especially by the words of Plutarch in the eighteenth\nchapter of his treatise _de E Delph._ p. 392--a chapter which is\nentirely based on Herakleitos, who is twice actually cited in it.\nNot only does ~ho ne/os~ die ~eis to\\n akma/zonta ktl.~, but ~ho\nchthe\\s (a/nthr\u00f4pos) eis to\\n s\u00ea/meron te/thn\u00eaken, ho de\\ s\u00ea/meron\neis to\\n {392} au/rion apothn\u00ea/skei. me/nei d' oudei/s, oud' e/stin\nhei=s, alla gigno/metha polloi\\ peri\\ he\\n pha/ntasma ktl.~; cf.\n_Cons. ad Apoll._ 10, p. 106 E. Herakl. is also the origin of what\nis said in Plato, _Smp._ 207 D ff.: each man is only apparently one\nand the same; in reality, even while he is still alive, \"he\ncontinually suffers a new and different man to take the place of the\nold and departing one\"--and this applies, just as much to the soul\nas to the body. (Only from the standpoint of Herakleitean\ndoctrine--here adopted in passing by Plato as suiting his chosen\nmethod of argument--is the conclusion he reaches justified; the\nconclusion is that it is only by the perpetual substitution of a new\nbeing like the old one that man has immortality, and not by the\neternal preservation of his own proper being; for this advantage\nbelongs peculiarly to the divine. This, of course, cannot possibly\nbe understood as the serious teaching of Plato himself.)--The\nHerakleitean denial of personal identity in men is alluded to by\nEpicharmos (or a pseudo-Ep.?) ap. D.L. iii, 11, ll. 13-18; _Vors._,\np. 118-19 (cf. Wytt. ad Plu., _Ser. Num. V._ 559 A = vii, p. 397 f.\nOx.; Bernays, _Rh. Mus._ viii, 280 ff.); and cf. Sen., _Ep._ 58,\n23.--It is instructive to compare with Herakl.'s doctrine of the\ninstability of the psychic complex the very similar theory of the\ninflux and reflux of the elements of the \"soul\" as described in the\nIndian doctrine of Jainism. The soul (in the Indian doctrine)\ncontinually transforms, re-arranges, and restores itself, just like\nthe body. See Deussen, _System d. Ved\u00e2nta_, 330.]\n\n[17\\11: The apparently contradictory statement ~psuch\u00ea=|si te/rpsin,\nm\u00ea\\ tha/naton, hugr\u00ea=|si gene/sthai~ ap. Porph., _Antr. Nymph._ 10\n(72 By., 77 D.), does not represent the words or real opinion of\nHkl., but only of Numenios' (_fr._ 35 Thedinga) arbitrary and\npersonal interpretation of Hkl. doctrine (see Gomperz in _Sitzb. d.\nWien. Ak._ 113, 1015 ff.).]\n\n[18\\11: A doctrine of transmigration of souls is attributed to Hkl.\nby Schuster, _Heraklit_, p. 174 ff. (1873). The utterances of\nHerakleitos there quoted to prove this thesis (_frr._ 78, 67, 123 =\n88, 62, 63) do not, however, imply anything of the kind and there is\nnot the slightest indication in the whole of Hkl's doctrinal system\nupon which a theory of the transmigration of the soul might be\nfounded.]\n\n[19\\11: To prove that Herakleitos spoke of a continuation of the\nlife of the individual soul after its separation from the body,\nappeal is made partly to the statements of later philosophers,\npartly to actual utterances of Herakl. (cf. in particular Zeller,\n_Greek Phil. to Socr._ ii, 86; Pfleiderer, _Philos. d. Heraklit im\nLichte der Mysterienidee_, p. 214 ff.). Platonist philosophers do,\nof course, attribute to Herakleitos a doctrine of the soul which\ntaught the pre-existence of the individual soul, \"its fall in\nbirth,\" and its departure into a separate life of its own after\ndeath (cf. Numenios ap. Porph., _Ant._ 10; Iamb., ap. Stob., _Ecl._\ni, 375, 7; 38, 21 ff. W.; Aen. Gaz., _Thphr._, pp. 5, 7 Boiss.).\nThese accounts, however, are plainly but private and arbitrary\ninterpretations of Herakleitean sayings (~metaba/llon anapau/etai,\nka/mato/s esti toi=s autoi=s aei\\ mochthei=n kai\\ a/rchesthai~) in\nthe light of the conceptions current among those philosophers\nthemselves; they are homiletic, fancifully conceived expositions of\nvery short and ambiguous texts, and can so much the less serve as\nwitnesses of Herakleitos' real opinions since Plotinos (4, 8, 1)\nopenly admits that Herakl. in this matter has omitted ~saph\u00ea= h\u00eami=n\npoi\u00ea=sai to\\n lo/gon~. Others read into certain Herakleitean\nutterances the Orphic doctrine of ~s\u00f4=ma--s\u00ea=ma~, the entombment of\nthe soul in the body (Philo, _Leg. Alleg._ 1, 33, i, p. 65 M.; S.E.,\n_P._ iii, 230), which cannot, however, be seriously supposed to be\nhis teaching. The soul did not for Hkl., any more than for the\nPythagoreans or Platonics, {393} come into existence at birth\n(substantially) out of nothing (which was the popular idea); it\nrather, as a portion of the universal fire (the universal psyche) is\nin existence from eternity. But it certainly does not follow,\nbecause later writers insisted on finding in him the idea so\nfamiliar to themselves, that Hkl. himself accepted the pre-existence\nof disembodied separate souls possessing complete and absolute\nindividuality. A few enigmatic and highly picturesque\nexpressions--typical of this philosopher's favourite manner of\nexpressing abstract ideas by clothing them in symbolic\nimagery--might tempt to such an interpretation. ~atha/natoi\nthn\u00eatoi/, thn\u00eatoi\\ atha/natoi, z\u00f4=ntes to\\n ekei/n\u00f4n tha/naton to\\n\nde\\ ekei/n\u00f4n bi/on tethne\u00f4=tes~ (_fr._ 67 = 62)--that certainly does\nsound as if Hkl. had meant to speak of the entrance into the human\nlife of individual divine beings (and this was simply substituted in\ninaccurate quotations of the saying: ~theoi\\ thn\u00eatoi/, a/nthr\u00f4poi\natha/natoi~, etc.; cf. Bernays, _Heraklit. Briefe_, 39 ff.). And yet\nHerakleitos can only have meant, in conformity with his whole\nposition, that eternal and perishable, divine and human are alike\nand interchangeable; he has for the moment personified ~to\\ thei=on~\n(also called ~ho theo/s~ _fr._ 36 = 67; cf. _fr._ 61 = 102) as\nindividual ~atha/natoi~, but he only means what he says in another\nplace: ~tauto\\ to\\ z\u00f4=n kai\\ tethn\u00eako/s~ (_fr._ 78 = 88), ~bi/os~\nand ~tha/natos~ are the same (_fr._ 66 = 48). It seems to me\nimpossible to extract from these words of this 67th fragment (62nd),\nor from no. 44 (= 53), a doctrine of the ascent to divinity of\nspecial great men (with Gomperz, _Sitzb. Wien. Ak._ 1886, p. 1010,\n1041 f.). Nor would anything be asserted by such a doctrine about\nthe immortality of such men. The striking phrase ~anthr\u00f4/pous me/nei\nteleut\u00ea/santas ha/ssa ouk e/lpontai~ (_fr._ 122 = 27) is certainly\nunderstood by Cl. Al. as referring to the punishment of the soul\nafter death. But the same Cl. Al., _Str._ **v, 9, p. 649 P., is\ncapable of explaining the Herakleitean ~ekpu/r\u00f4sis~ (in which\nHerakl. actually speaks of a ~kri/sis~ by fire: _fr._ 26 = 66) as a\n~dia\\ puro\\s ka/tharsis t\u00f4=n _kak\u00f4=s bebi\u00f4ko/t\u00f4n_~. In fact, he is\ngiving to statements torn from their context a meaning that accords\nwith his own knowledge and comprehension. The same sentence (_fr._\n122 = 27) is given a quite different and consolatory sense by Plu.\nap. Stob., _Fl._ 120, 8 fin.; cf. Schuster, _Heraklit_, p. 190, n.\n1. Herakl. himself need have meant nothing more than the perpetual\nprocess of change that \"awaits men after death\".--Other utterances\nare no more conclusive for a doctrine of immortality in Hkl. (_fr._\n7 = 18 belongs to quite another context). \"Those who have fallen in\nwar are honoured both by gods (whose existence was not denied by\nHkl. nor was it necessary that he should) and men,\" _fr._ 102 = 24;\nthat their reward was anything else but fame--for example, blessed\nimmortality--is not suggested even by Cl. Al. (_Str._ iv, 16, p. 571\nP.), and is certainly not to be extracted from H.'s words, _fr._ 126\n= 5 (the fool) ~hou/ti gin\u00f4/sk\u00f4n theou\\s oud' h\u00ea/r\u00f4as hoi/tine/s\neisin~ simply shows that Hkl. did not share the popular ideas about\ngods and Heroes, but supplies nothing positive.--In _fr._ 38 = 98 we\nhave ~hai psuchai\\ osm\u00f4=ntai kath' ha/|d\u00ean~. Are we really to deduce\nfrom this that Herakl. believed in a regular Homeric Hades?\n~ha/|d\u00eas~ is a metaphorical expression for the opposite of the life\non earth (just as it is used metaphorically for the opp. of ~pha/os~\nby the Herakleitean [Hippocr.] _de Victu_, 1, 4, p. 632 K\u00fchn = vi,\n476 Lit.). For the souls ~ha/|d\u00eas~ means the ~ho/dos ka/t\u00f4~ and the\nsense of the dictum is: after disappearing in death the souls when\nthey have travelled on the way downwards through water and earth\nwill at last rise up again through water, and drawing in to\nthemselves pure, dry \"fire\" will become \"souls\" again, (~osm\u00f4=ntai~\nis remarkable {394} but not to be altered. ~hosiou=ntai~ Pfleiderer;\nbut the connexion in which Plu. quotes the saying of Herakl. [_Fac.\nO. L._ xxviii, p. 943 E] shows that there is no reference to the\npurification of the souls in Hades, but merely of their nourishment\nand strengthening by the ~anathumi/asis~ of the fiery aether; cf.\nalso S.E., _M._ ix, 73, following Poseidonios. This\n~anathumia=n~--and the becoming \"fiery\" again--is what Hkl. calls\n~osma=sthai~.)--From the hopelessly corrupt _fr._ 123 = 63 nothing\nintelligible can be extracted.--Nowhere can we find clear and\nunambiguous statements of Herakleitos witnessing to his belief in\nthe immortality of the individual soul; and it would require such\nstatements to make us attribute to Herakleitos a conception that, as\neveryone admits, is in hopeless contradiction with the rest of his\nteaching. He says perfectly plainly that in death the soul becomes\nwater; and that means that it, as the soul = fire, _perishes_. If\nhis belief had been anything like that of the mystics (as the\nNeoplatonists supposed) he must have regarded death--the liberation\nof the soul from the fetters of corporeality and the realm of the\nlower elements--as a complete issue of the soul into its proper\nelement, the fire. Whereas, what he teaches is the opposite of this:\nthe soul perishes, becomes water, then earth, and then water again,\nand finally soul once more (_fr._ 68 = 36). Only in this sense is it\nindestructible.]\n\n[20\\11: e.g. by Pfleiderer, _Philos. d. Heraklit_, etc., p. 209, and\nfrequently.]\n\n[21\\11: The Sibyl _fr._ 12 = 92; the Delphic Oracle 11 = 93;\nKathartic practices 130 = 5; Bakchoi, etc., 124 = 14.]\n\n[22\\11: ~h\u00f4uto\\s Ha/id\u00eas kai\\ Dio/nusos~ _fr._ 127 = 15 (and to that\nextent--as being reconcilable with the doctrine of Hkl.--may the\nDionysiac mysteries be considered valid: this must be the meaning of\nthe sentence). On the other hand, we have disapproval of the\n~must\u00ea/ria~ carried out ~anier\u00f4sti/~ by men: _fr._ 125 = 14 (for the\nworshippers do not perceive the real meaning of the ceremonies).]\n\n[23\\11: In contrast to the Neoplatonic writers who attributed to\nHkl. a doctrine of the soul like the Orphico-Pythagorean, the\n[Plutarchian] account in the _Placita Philos._ is again much nearer\nthe real meaning of Herakleitos; cf. 4, 7 (where the name of\nHerakleitos has fallen out, as can be seen from Theodoret; see\nDiels, _Dox._, p. 392; _Vors._ 76, 1) ~. . . exiou=san (t\u00ea\\n\nanthr\u00f4/pou psuch\u00ea\\n) eis t\u00ea\\n tou= panto\\s psuch\u00ea\\n anach\u00f4rei=n\npro\\s to\\ homogene/s~. Even this is not quite correct as expressing\nwhat Hkl. really thought as to the fate of the soul but it does at\nleast show once more that the contrary views of the Neoplatonists\nare also only _interpretations_, not evidence.]\n\n[24\\11: ~H\u00eara/kleitos \u00earemi/an kai\\ sta/sin ek t\u00f4=n ho/l\u00f4n an\u00ea/|rei;\ne/sti ga\\r tou=to t\u00f4=n nekr\u00f4=n~. _Dox._, p. 320; _Vors._ 73, 10.\n~sta/sis~ and ~\u00earemi/a~ could never make a real \"life\"--not even a\nblessed life far removed from the world--but are signs of what is\n\"dead\", i.e. of what is nowhere to be found in this world, in fact,\nNothing.]\n\n[25\\11: Parmenldes' polemic against Herakleitos: l. 46 ff. Mull.;\n_fr._ 6, 4 ff. Diels; see Bernays, _Rh. Mus._ vii, 115 (cf. Diels,\n_Parm._ 68).]\n\n[26\\11: Aristotle (acc. to S.E., _M._ x, 46; _Vors._ 142, 33 ff.)\n~aphusi/kous autou\\s ke/kl\u00eaken, ho/ti arch\u00ea\\ kin\u00ease\u00f4/s estin h\u00ea\nphu/sis, h\u00ea\\n anei=lon pha/menoi m\u00eade\\n kinei=sthai~.]\n\n[27\\11: Thphr., _Sens._ \u00a7 4; _Vors._ 146, 13 f.]\n\n[28\\11: ~gegen\u00ea=sthai t\u00ea\\n t\u00f4=n pa/nt\u00f4n phu/sin ek thermou= kai\\\npsuchrou= kai\\ x\u00earou= kai\\ hugrou=, lambano/nt\u00f4n eis a/ll\u00eala t\u00ea\\n\nmetanol\u00ea/n, kai\\ psuch\u00ea\\n kra=ma hupa/rchein ek t\u00f4=n proeir\u00eame/n\u00f4n\nkata\\ m\u00eadeno\\s tou/t\u00f4n epikra/t\u00easin~, Zeno ap. D.L. ix, 29; _Vors._\n166, 14. The composition out of four elements instead of two as with\nParmenides may have been arrived at by Zeno {395} in imitation of\nthe \"four roots\" of Empedokles, each of which was distinguished by\npossessing one of the four qualities ~thermo/n ktl.~ The statement\nthat the ~psuch\u00ea/~ arises from the _equal_ mixture of the four\nqualities reminds us of Empedokles' account of ~phronei=n~ (_Vors._\n218, 1 = 220, 23; Thphr., _Sens._ 10, 23). On the other side, Zeno\ntakes over and applies to the ~psuch\u00ea/~ what the Pythagorean\nphysician Alkmaion said about ~hugi/eia~ (_Vors._ 136, 1; _Dox._, p.\n442; cf. Arist., _An._ 408a, 1): his point of view is almost\nidentical with that of those Pythagoreans who regarded the \"soul\" as\nmade up out of a ~harmoni/a~ of the Cold, the Warm, etc. (see\nbelow). He may have actually got his views from the acquaintance of\nPythagorean physiologists (he was regarded as a \"Pythagorean\": Str.\n252).]\n\n[29\\11: Simpl. ad Arist., _Ph._, p. 39 D.; _Vors._ 162, 11; cf.\nDiels, _Parm._ 109 f. (1897).]\n\n[30\\11: Parmenides pupil of Diochaites the Pythagorean and of\nAmeinias, also as it appears a Pythagorean: Sotion ap. D.L. ix, 21;\n_Vors._ 138. He was counted a Pythagorean by tradition which,\nhowever, was very free with its attributions of this kind. Call.\n_fr._ 100d, 17; Str. 252; _V. Pyth._ ap. Phot., _Bibl._ 249, p.\n439a, 37 Bk.; Iamb., _VP._ 267 (with Sch., p. 190 N.). The Pyth.\ninfluence on Parmenides may have been essentially of an ethical\nnature: ~eis h\u00easuchi/an proetra/p\u00ea hupo\\ Ameini/ou~, D.L. ix, 21.\n~Parmeni/deios kai\\ Puthago/reios bi/os~ as equivalent: [Ceb.]\n_Tab._ 2 fin. Str., p. 252, connects the good government of Elea\nwith the Pythagorean influence of Parmenides (and of Zeno).\nParmenides law-giver of Elea: Speus. ~p. philoso/ph\u00f4n~ ap. D.L. ix,\n23.]\n\n[31\\11: ~philosophi/an de\\ pr\u00f4=tos \u00f4no/mase Puthago/ras kai\\\nheauto\\n philo/sophon~: D.L., _Proem._ 12 (though the rest is from\nthe fictitious dialogue of Herakl. Pont. see Cic., _TD._ v, 8-9).]\n\n[32\\11: Pl., _Rp._ 600 AB.]\n\n[33\\11: ~polumathi/\u00ea, histori/\u00ea~ of Pythag.; Herakl. _frr._ 16, 17 =\n40, 129. ~pantoi/\u00f4n ta\\ ma/lista soph\u00f4=n epi\u00ea/ranos e/rg\u00f4n~ is said\nof Pythag. by Emped. (429 Mull.) _fr._ 129, 3.--The Pythagorean\naccount of the construction of the world was known to Parmenides at\nthe beginning of the fifth century and imitated by him in several\npoints: Krische, _Theol. Lehren d. gr. D._ 103 ff. (To what extent\nParmenides in other respects controverted Pythag. doctrine--as has\nbeen recently asserted of him--may be left undecided.) Fanciful\nspeculations about numbers are attributed to Pythag. himself by\nAristot., _MM._ 1182a, 11 ff.; _Vors._ 347, 3.]\n\n[34\\11: Emped. 427 ff. Mull.; _fr._ 129 Diels. That this\n_praeconium_ does really refer to Pythag. (as Timaeus and others\nsupposed) and not to Parmenides (as the undefined ~hoi de/~ of D.L.\nviii, 54, thought) appears to be proved by l. 4 ff., which allude to\na remarkable power of ~ana/mn\u00easis~ which was certainly attributed by\nlegend to Pythag., never to Parmenides.]\n\n[35\\11: ~psuchai/~ filling the whole air, not distinguished from\n~dai/mones~ and ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4es~, Alex. Polyh. ap. D.L. viii, 32; _Vors._^4\ni, xliv (who in this section of his account--\u00a7\u00a731 ff.--is giving\n_older_ Pythagorean ideas. Poseidonios expresses the same ideas; but\nit does not therefore follow that he got them from the Stoics.\nPoseid. borrowed and elaborated many Pythagorean views). More subtly\nexpressed: the soul is ~atha/natos~ because it is eternally in\nmotion like ~ta\\ thei=a pa/nta~, the moon, sun, stars, and heaven;\nAlkmaion ap. Arist., _An._ 405a, 29 ff.; _Vors._ 133, 40; cf.\nKrische, 75 f. The perpetual movement of the ~psuchai/~ was one of\nthe older Pythag. beliefs: it is expressed in the old fable (known\nalready to Demokritos) of the motes in the sunbeam, {396} which, in\ntheir continual agitation, are, or enclose, swarming souls (see\nbelow, n. 40). In Alkmaion's treatment of the doctrine there is the\nadditional idea that the soul of man ~e/oike toi=s athana/tois~. The\nderivation of its immortality and divinity from its origin in the\nWorld-soul (this is often said to be a Pythagorean doctrine: Cic.,\n_ND._ i, 27; _Sen._ 78; D.L. viii, 28; S.E., _M._ ix, 127) does\nindeed suggest Stoic pantheism in the form of its expression but in\nsubstance it may very well go back to the older Pythag. teaching.\n(The genuineness of the frag. [21 D.] of Philolaos ap. Stob., _Ecl._\ni, 20, 2 ff.; _Vors._ 318, 13, remains, however, dubious.) The idea\nthat the soul and ~nou=s~ of man came to him from an impersonal\n~thei=on~, an all-pervading ~en t\u00f4=| panti\\ phro/n\u00easis~, must have\nbeen widespread even in the fifth century. It finds expression in\nXen., _M._ 1, 4, 8-17; 4, 3, 14, where it is certainly not an\noriginal fancy of Xenophon's, but must have been derived by him from\nsomewhere or other (not from Socrates, however, nor Plato).]\n\n[36\\11: ~en phroura=|~, Pl., _Phd._ 62 B. This is traced back to\nPythag. belief (though he misinterprets the meaning of the word\n~phroura/~) by Cic., _Sen._ 73; cf. the Pythagorean Euxitheos ap.\nAth. 157 C; _Vors._ 315, 19. See B\u00f6ckh, _Philol._ 179 ff. (Philolaos\n_fr._ 15 [16 Mull.] speaks of the World-soul or God who holds and\ncontains all things ~en phroura=|~ without mentioning the human\nsoul: see B\u00f6ckh, p. 151.) The comparison of life in the body to a\n~phroura/~ may very well be Pythagorean; nor is this **prevented by\nthe fact that it is also Orphic (see above, chap. x, n. 43). This\ncomparison implies the conception of the earthly life as a\npunishment. ~dia/ tinas tim\u00f4ri/as~ the soul is enclosed in the body:\nPhilolaos _fr._ 14 (23) appealing to ~palaioi\\ theolo/goi te kai\\\nma/nties~ (cf. Iamb., _VP._ 85, ~agatho\\n hoi po/noi . . . epi\\\n_kola/sei_ ga\\r eltho/ntas dei= kolasth\u00ea=nai~).--Espinas in _Arch.\nf. Ges. d. Philos._ viii, 452, interprets the ~en phroura=|~ of Pl.,\n_Phd._ 62, as = \"in the cattle-pen\" or \"sheep-fold\"; the idea of God\nas the Shepherd of man would then be vaguely present even here (cf.\n_Plt._ 271 E; _Criti._ 109 B). It remains, however, to be proved (to\nbegin with) that ~phroura/~ is ever used in the sense of ~s\u00eako/s~ or\n~heirkt\u00ea/~.]\n\n[37\\11: Arist., _An._ 1, 3, p. 407b, 22 ff.]\n\n[38\\11: ~hoi en t\u00f4=| tarta/r\u00f4=|~ terrified by thunder acc. to\nPythag. belief: Arist., _An. Po._ 94b, 32 ff.; ~su/nodoi t\u00f4=n\ntethne\u00f4/t\u00f4n~ in the depths of the earth, Ael., _VH._ iv, 17 (perhaps\nfrom Arist. ~p. t\u00f4=n Puthagorei/\u00f4n~). Description of the condition\nof things in Hades given in the Pythagorean ~Kata/basis eis\nha/|dou~. As in the case of the Orphics this purgation and\npunishment in the spirit-world must have belonged to the parts of\nthe ~Puthago/reioi mu=thoi~ that were quite seriously believed.]\n\n[39\\11: ~ekriphthei=san~ (out of the body) ~aut\u00ea\\n (t\u00ea\\n psuch\u00ea\\n)\nepi\\ g\u00ea=s pla/zesthai en t\u00f4=| ae/ri homoi/an t\u00f4=| s\u00f4/mati~ (being a\ncomplete ~ei/d\u00f4lon~ of the living): Alex. Polyh. ap. D.L. viii, 31.]\n\n[40\\11: Arist., _An._ 1, 2, 4, p. 404a, 16 ff.; _Vors._ 357, 1; many\ncalled the ~en t\u00f4=| ae/ri xu/smata~ themselves \"souls\", others ~to\\\ntau=ta kinou=n~. This may rest on a real popular belief which,\nhowever, has already been partially elevated to a philosophical\nstanding: the souls are compared to what is evidently itself in\nperpetual agitation (Arist., l. 19 f.). This was undoubtedly\nPythagorean (and old Ionic) teaching: see Alkmaion ap. Arist., _An._\n405a, 29 ff.; _Vors._ 133, 40. (Statement of _Dox._ 386a, 13 ff., b,\n8 ff., is more doubtful.)]\n\n[41\\11: D.L. viii, 32; _Vors_^4. i, p. xliv.]\n\n[42\\11: That the Pythagoreans believed in the entry of the soul into\nthe bodies of animals also is implied in the satirical verses of\nXenophanes {397} (_fr._ 6) ap. D.L. viii, 36. All probability\nsuggests that this was the reason for the injunction to abstain from\nflesh food among the older Pythagoreans themselves (and with\nEmpedokles). (S.E., _M._ ix, 127 ff., however, drags in the\n\"World-Soul\" in a moment of untimely Stoicism. S.E.'s own quotation\nfrom Empedokles shows that the latter at any rate derived the\n~apoch\u00ea\\ empsu/ch\u00f4n~ simply from the fact of Metamorphosis, and not\nat all from the ~psuch\u00ea=s pneu=ma~ which rules in all life; though\nthis last is attributed to him by S.E.)]\n\n[43\\11: See Appendix x.]\n\n[44\\11: According to the Pythagoreans ~to\\ di/kaion~ is nothing else\nthan ~to\\ antipepontho/s~, i.e. ~ha\\ tis epoi/\u00ease tau=t'\nantipathei=n~: Arist., _EN._ 5, 5, p. 1132b, 21 ff.; _MM._ 1194a, 29\nff. (also given with fanciful numerical expression, _MM._ 1182a, 14;\nSch. Arist. 540a, 19 ff.; 541b, 6 Br.; [Iamb.] _Theol. Arith._, p.\n28 f. Ast). This definition of justice was simply taken over by the\nPythagoreans from popular sayings such as the verse of Rhadamanthys\nap. Arist., _EN._ about the ~dra/santi pathei=n~ and similar\nformulae: see collection in Blomfield's Gloss. in A., _Cho._ 307;\nSoph. _fr._ 229 P. Compensatory justice of this kind we may suppose\nwas manifested in the rebirths of men (in this respect the P. went\nbeyond the commonplace sense of that ~trige/r\u00f4n mu=thos~): we may\nassume this without further hesitation if we remember the completely\nanalogous application of this conception by the Orphics (above,\nchap. x, n. 71).]\n\n[45\\11: ~Puthago/reios tro/pos tou= bi/ou~, Pl., _Rp._ 600 B.]\n\n[46\\11: ~akolouthei=n t\u00f4=| the\u00f4=|~, Iamb., _VP._ 137 (following\nAristoxenos); _Vors._ 362, 32; ~he/pou the\u00f4=|~ Pythagoras ap. Stob.,\n_Ecl._ ii, p. 49, 16 W. See Wyttenb. on Plu., _Ser. Num. Vind._ 550\nD.]\n\n[47\\11: Ancient testimony ascribes to the Pythagoreans: abstinence\nfrom flesh-food or at least from the flesh of such animals as are\nnot sacrificed to the Olympians (the ~anthr\u00f4/pou psuch\u00ea/~ does not\nenter into the ~thu/sima z\u00f4=|a~ in transmigration: Iamb., _VP._ 85;\n_Vors._ 359, 13); from eating fish, particularly ~tri/glai~ and\n~mela/nouroi~, and beans; from using linen clothing (or being buried\nin it: Hdt. ii, 81); and a few other forms of abstinence and\nmeasures assuring ritual purity. The whole apparatus of ritual\n~hagnei/a~ is ascribed to the older Pythagoreans by Alex. Polyh. ap.\nD.L. viii, 33. This, as a general statement is certainly correct. It\nis customary to say that it began among the degenerate Pythagoreans\nafter the break up of the Italian society (so esp. Krische, _De Soc.\na Pythag. cond. scopo politico_, G\u00f6tt., 1831). But when Aristoxenos,\nthe contemporary of the later, scientifically-minded Pythagoreans,\ndenies all such superstitious ideas and regulations to the original\nPythagoreans, his evidence really applies only to those Pythagorean\n_scholars_ with whom he was acquainted and who seemed to him to have\npreserved the real spirit of the older Pythagoreanism much more\ntruly than the ascetic (and in any case degenerate) Pythagoreans of\nthe same period. Everything, however, goes to show that the strength\nof the surviving community as it had been founded by Pythagoras lay\nin the religious and mystical elements of its doctrine; and that\nwhat was oldest in Pythagoreanism was what it had in common with the\nfaith and religious discipline of the Orphics. To this side belongs\nwhat we learn from tradition of the older Pythagorean asceticism.\nMuch, then, that is of early Pythagorean origin (though certainly\ncombined with other and later elements) is to be found in many of\nthe ~akou/smata~ or ~su/mbola~ of the Pythagoreans, esp. in those of\nthem (and they are numerous) that give directions of a ritual or\nmerely superstitious kind. A fresh collection, arrangement and {398}\nexplanation of these remarkable fragments would be very useful:\nG\u00f6ttling's purely rationalist treatment of them does them less than\njustice. (Corn. H\u00f6lk, _De acusmatis s. symbolis Pythag._, Diss.\nKiel. 1894.)]\n\n[48\\11: Efforts in a more positive direction may perhaps be seen in\nthe practice of the musical form of ~ka/tharsis~ which Pythag. and\nthe Pythagoreans used in accordance with an elaborate system: cf.\nIamb., _VP._ 64 ff., 110 ff.; Sch. V. on ~Ch~ 391; also Quint. 9, 4,\n12; Porph., _VP._ 33, etc.--What Aristoxenos has to say about\nPythagorean ethics, moralistic _parainesis_ and edification--most of\nit of a purely rationalist kind--can scarcely be said to have\nhistorical value.]\n\n[49\\11: Good formulation of Pythag. belief ap. Max. Tyr. 16, 2, i,\n287 R.: ~Puthago/ras pr\u00f4=tos en toi=s He/ll\u00easin eto/lm\u00easen eipei=n,\nho/ti haut\u00f4=| to\\ me\\n s\u00f4=ma tethn\u00ea/xetai, h\u00ea de\\ psuch\u00ea\\ anapta=sa\noich\u00ea/setai athan\u00ea\\s kai\\ ag\u00ea/r\u00f4s. _kai\\ ga\\r ei=nai aut\u00ea\\n pri\\n\nh\u00ea/kein deu=ro_~. i.e. the life of the soul is not only endless but\nwithout beginning; the soul is immortal because it is timeless.]\n\n[50\\11: The withdrawal of the soul from the ~ku/klos ana/gk\u00eas~ and\nits return to an emancipated existence as a bodiless spirit was\nnever so clearly held in view for the \"Pure\" by the older\nPythagorean tradition as it was among the Orphics (and Empedokles).\nIt is, however, hardly thinkable that a system which regarded every\nincarnation of the soul as a punishment and the body as its prison\nor its tomb should never have held out to the true ~ba/kchoi~ of its\nmysteries the prospect of a full and permanent liberation of the\nsoul, at last, from corporeality and the earthly life. Only so could\nthe long chain of deaths and rebirths reach a final and satisfactory\nconclusion. Eternally detained in the cycle of births the soul would\nbe eternally punished (this is e.g. the idea of Empedokles: 455 f.,\n_fr._ 145 D.); and this cannot have been the real conclusion of the\nPythagorean doctrine of salvation. Claud. Mamertus, _de An._ 2, 7\n[_Vors._ 320, 12], gives it as a doctrine of Philolaos [_fr._ 22]\nthat the (pure soul after its separation from the body leads a\n\"bodiless\" life in the \"Universe\" (the ~ko/smos~ situated above the\n~ourano/s~): see B\u00f6ckh, _Philol._ 177. Apart from this the only\nevidence for the withdrawal of the soul is late: _Carm. Aur._ 70 f.\n(making use of the Empedok. verses, _fr._ 112, 4 f. = 400 Mull.),\nAlex. Polyh. ap. D.L. viii, 31 (~a/gesthai ta\\s kathara\\s [psucha\\s]\nepi\\ to\\n hu/psiston~ \"in altissimum locum\" Cobet: but an ellipse of\n~to/pon~ is hardly admissible. ~ho hu/psistos~ = the highest God\nwould be a Hebraic form of expression, nor can it be a possible one\nhere for Alex. Polyh.--we should also, with this meaning of\n~hu/psistos~, expect ~pro\\s t. hu/.~ ad superiores circulos bene\nviventium animae, secundum philosophorum altam scientiam, Serv.,\n_A._ vi, 127--should we then supply ~epi\\ to\\n hu/psiston\n~? Or perh. ~epi\\ to\\ hu/psiston~?)--An escape of the souls\nafter the expiry of their ~peri/odoi~ must have been known as a\nPythagorean belief to Luc., _VH._ ii, 21. (Vergil, too, is speaking\nin a Pythagorean sense, _A._ vi, 744, pauci laeta arva [Elysii]\ntenemus.--i.e. for ever without renewed ~ens\u00f4ma/t\u00f4sis~--see Serv.,\n_A._ vi, 404, 426, 713. It is true the line is out of its right\nplace, but there can be no doubt that it reproduces the words and\nthe--in this section Pythagorean--opinion of Vergil.) The idea that\nthe cycle of births is never to be broken cannot be regarded as\nPythagorean nor even as Neopythagorean. (A few isolated later\naccounts of Pythag. doctrine; e.g. D.L. viii, 14 (from Favorinus),\nPorph., _VP._ 19, and also the cursory description in Ov., _M._\nxv--with a good deal of foreign matter added--speak of the Pyth.\ndoctrine of soul-transmigration without also referring to the\npossibility of ~ku/klou l\u00ea=xai~; but they are not meant to deny that\n{399} possibility but merely leave it unmentioned as unnecessary in\nthe context.) There seems to be no example of a Greek doctrine of\ntransmigration that did not also include a promise to the ~ho/sioi~\nor the ~philo/sophoi~ that they would be able to escape from the\ncycle of births (at least for a world-period: as Syrian. took it,\nthough probably not Porph.). Such a promise, as the consummation of\nthe promises of salvation therein made, could only be dispensed with\nin the case of a doctrine of transmigration in which being born\nagain was itself regarded as a _reward_ for the pious (as in the\nteaching which Jos., _BJ._ 2, 8, 14, attributes to the Pharisees).\nBy Greek partisans of the doctrine of Metempsychosis rebirth upon\nearth is always regarded as a punishment or at any rate a burden,\nnot as a desirable goal for the life of the soul. We must therefore\npresume that the promise of escape from the cycle of rebirth was\nmade also by the oldest Pythagorean teaching as the final benefit of\nits message of salvation. Without this completing touch\nPythagoreanism would be like Buddhism without the promise of a final\nattainment of Nirv\u00e2na.]\n\n[51\\11: Pythagoras is called the pupil of Pherekydes as early as\nAndron of Ephesos (before Theopompos): D.L. i, 119; _Vors._ ii, 199,\n18. Pherekydes was regarded as \"the first\" who taught the\nimmortality of the soul (Cic., _TD._ i, 38) or more correctly\nmetempsychosis (Suid. ~Pherek.~); cf. Preller, _Rh. Mus._ (N.F.),\niv, 388 f. A hint of such teaching must have been found in his\nmystical treatise (cf. Porph., _Antr._ 31; _Vors._ ii, 204,\n12--Gomperz is rather too sceptical, _Gk. Thinkers_, i, 542). This\nteaching seems to have been the chief reason which tempted later\nwriters to make the old _theologos_ into the teacher of Pythagoras,\nthe chief spokesman of the doctrine of the soul's\ntransmigrations.--It is, however, an untenable theory that Pherek.\nillustrated his doctrine of transmigration by the example of\nAithalides. What the Sch. on A.R. i, 645 [_Vors._ ii, 204, 24],\nquotes from \"Pherekydes\" about the alternate sojourn of the\n~psuch\u00ea/~ of Aithalides in Hades and on earth, does not come from\nPherekydes the _theologos_ (as G\u00f6ttling, _Opusc._ 210, and Kern, _de\nOrph. Epim. Pherec._, pp. 89, 106, think) but without the slightest\ndoubt from the genealogist and historian; this is the only\nPherekydes who is used by the Sch. of Ap. Rh., and he is used\nfrequently. Besides this, the way in which the different statements\nof the various authorities used in this Scholion are distinguished,\nshows quite clearly that Pherekydes had only spoken of Aithalides'\nalternate dwelling above and below the earth, but _as still being_\nAithalides, and not as metamorphosed by the series of births into\nother personalities living upon earth. Pherekydes was obviously\nreproducing a Phthiotic local-legend in which Aithalides as the son\nof (the chthonic?) Hermes alternately lived on and below the earth,\nas an ~heter\u00ea/meros~--like the Dioscuri in Lacedaimonian legend (~l~\n301 ff.: in that passage and generally in the older view--as held by\nAlkman, Pindar, etc.--_both_ the Dioscuri change their place of\nabode together: it is not till later that the variant arose acc. to\nwhich they alternate with each other: see Hemst. _Luc._ ii, p. 344\nBip.). It was Herakleides Pont. who first turned the alternate\nsojourning of Aithalides into death and resurrection (he also made\nAithalides one of the previous incarnations of Pythagoras; see\nAppendix x); but as a _different_ person, so that A. thus became an\nexample of metempsychosis. It is not hard to see why Aithalides was\nchosen as one of the previous incarnations of P., nor how the old\nmiracle-story, preserved to literature by Pherekydes, was thus\ntransformed to suit its new purpose. Plainly Pherekydes did _not_\nsay that Hermes {400} also gave Aithalides the power of memory after\nhis death (otherwise the statement to this effect in Sch. A.R. would\nhave stood under the name of Pherek.); and the privilege was rather\nmeaningless until after Herakleides' narrative. Perhaps it was Her.\nwho first added this touch to the story. Ap. Rh. follows him in this\npoint (i, 643 ff.), but not--or not plainly, at least: 646 ff.--in\nwhat Herakleides had invented about the metempsychosis of\nAithalides.]\n\n[52\\11: Macr., _Som. Scip._ 1, 14, 19, attributes this view to\nPythagoras and Philolaos, being certainly correct in the case of the\nlatter; since the opinion that the soul is a ~kra=sis~ and\n~harmoni/a~ of the warm and the cold, the dry and the wet, which go\nto make up the body, is given by Simmias in Pl., _Phd._ 86 B, as a\ntradition that he has received and not an invention of his own. But\nwhat else can this mean than a tradition handed down in Thebes by\nhis teacher Philolaos (_Phd._ 61 D)? (Hence ~Harmoni/as t\u00ea=s\nTh\u00eaba\u00efk\u00ea=s~, 95 A.) It is true that Claud. Mam. _de An._ ii, 7, only\nattributes to Philolaos the doctrine that the soul is _bound up_\nwith the body \"in eternal and incorporeal harmony\"\n(_convenientiam_): which would imply an independent substance of the\nsoul side by side with that of the body. But this must have been a\nmisunderstanding of the real meaning of Philolaos. Aristoxenos, too,\ncan only have got his doctrine of the soul as a harmony from his\nPythagorean friends. Perhaps, too, this was the influence which\nsuggested to Dikaiarchos his view that the \"soul\" is a ~harmoni/a\nt\u00f4=n tessa/r\u00f4n stoichei/\u00f4n~ (_Dox._, p. 387), and indeed ~t\u00f4=n en\nt\u00f4=| s\u00f4/mati therm\u00f4=n kai\\ psuchr\u00f4=n kai\\ hugr\u00f4=n kai\\ x\u00ear\u00f4=n~, as\nNemes., _Nat. Hom._, p. 69 Matth., tells us--thus exactly resembling\nSimmias in Plato (unless indeed the passage in Nemes. is a mere\nreminiscence of Plato strayed here by accident). See also chap. x,\nn. 27.]\n\n[53\\11: See Pl., _Phd._ 86 CD. Pre-existence of the soul impossible\nif it is only an ~harmoni/a~ of the body: 92 AB.]\n\n[54\\11: It was in itself almost unavoidable that a community founded\nlike the Pythagorean mainly on a mystical doctrine but not\nill-disposed to scientific studies, should, as it was extended (and\nstill followed practical aims) split up into two parties: an inner\ncircle of qualified teachers and scholars, and one or more groups,\noutside and attached to them, of lay members for whom a special\nteaching suited for popular comprehension would be provided. Thus\nthe inner circle of Buddhism, the Bikshu, was surrounded by the\ncommon herd of \"worshippers\"; and the same can be seen in Christian\nmonastic organisations. A division, then, of the followers of\nPythagoras into Akousmatikoi and Mathematikoi--Pythagoreioi and\nPythagoristai--etc., is not in itself at all incredible.]\n\n[55\\11: The division of the soul, or the ~duna/meis~ of the soul,\ninto the ~logiko/n~ and the ~a/logon~ was made, before Plato, by\nPythagoras--so we might have learnt, ~autou= tou= Puthago/rou\nsuggra/mmatos oudeno\\s eis h\u00eama=s s\u00f4zome/nou~, from the writings of\nhis followers, acc. to Poseidonios ap. Galen, _de Plac. Hipp. et\nPl._ 5, p. 459 M\u00fcll. = v, 478 K.; cf. also 425 K. (_Vors._ 34, 23).\nFrom Poseidonios evidently comes the same opinion in Cic., _TD._ iv,\n10. And, in fact, a fragment of Philolaos ~p. phu/se\u00f4s~, _fr._ 13\nDiels (_Theol. Ar._, p. 20, 35 A.), gives a division of the ~archai\\\ntou= z\u00f4/|ou tou= logikou=~, which depends upon the idea that the\nhighest living organism contains within itself and makes use of all\nthe lower organisms as well (~nou=s~ in the head, ~anthr\u00f4/pou\narcha/--psucha\\ kai\\ ai/sth\u00easis~ in the heart, ~z\u00f4/|ou\narcha\\--rhi/z\u00f4sis kai\\ ana/phusis~ in the navel, ~phutou=\narcha\\--spe/rmatos metabola/~ and ~ge/nn\u00easis~ in the ~aidoi=on,\nxunapa/nt\u00f4n archa/~). Then in the psychical region we have a\ndivision between the ~logiko/n~ {401} and the ~a/logon~ according to\ntheir nature and \"seat\" in man (~logiko/n~ being made up of\nreasoning power, ~nou=s~, specific to man, and sense-perception,\n~ai/sth\u00easis~, which also belongs to the other ~z\u00f4=|a~, while the\n~a/logon = rhi/z\u00f4sis kai\\ ana/phusis~ and resembles the ~ai/tion\ntou= tre/phesthai kai\\ au/xesthai~, or the ~phutiko/n~, a part of\nthe ~a/logon t\u00ea=s psuch\u00ea=s~ in Arist., _EN._ 1, 13, p. 1102a, 32\nff.). This evidently represents an attempt at a division of the soul\ninto ~logiko/n~ and ~a/logon~, such as Poseidonios must have found\ncarried out by other Pythagoreans. A clear distinction between\n~phronei=n (xunie/nai~ and ~aistha/nesthai~ was made by the Pythag.\nphysician Alkmaion, whose division was at least different from and\nmore profound than that of Empedokles (with whom he is contrasted by\nThphr., _Sens._ 25; _Vors._ 132, 20). Empedokles did indeed\ndistinguish between thinking and perceiving, but thinking (~noei=n~)\nwas only a ~s\u00f4matiko/n ti h\u00f4/sper to\\ aistha/nesthai~ and to this\nextent ~tauto/n~ with it (Arist., _An._ 3, 3, p. 427a, 21). Alkmaion\ncannot, therefore, have made ~xunie/nai s\u00f4matiko/n~. These\nPythagoreans were on the way to separating from the soul as a whole\na separate, thinking soul that required no sense-perception for its\nthought, the ~nou=s~. To this latter alone would divinity and\nimmortality be ascribed, as in later philosophy (and thus _Dox._\n393a, 10, though unhistorically and prematurely, gives ~to\\ logiko\\n\n[t\u00ea=s psuch\u00ea=s] a/phtharton~ as a doctrine of \"Pythagoras\").--It is\ncertainly difficult to see how Philolaos' doctrine of the\ndistinction between the ~anthr\u00f4/pou archa/~, the ~nou=s~--an element\nof the soul belonging exclusively to men--and the ~z\u00f4/|ou archa/~\n(confined to ~ai/sth\u00easis~ and ~psucha/~, power of life) could\npossibly be reconciled with the older Pythagorean doctrine of the\nsoul's transmigration. Acc. to that belief the soul wanders through\nthe bodies of animals as well as men, and the idea implies the view\nthat the _same_ soul could inhabit animals as well as men; that, in\nfact, ~pa/nta ta\\ geno/mena e/mpsucha~ are ~homogen\u00ea=~ (Porph.,\n_VP._ 19; cf. S.E., _M._ ix, 127). Philolaos, on the contrary, holds\nthat the soul of man is differently constituted from the souls of\nanimals--the latter lack ~nou=s~ (it is not merely that its efficacy\nis hindered in animals by the ~duskrasi/a tou= s\u00f4/matos~ as is said\nwrongly to be the opinion of Pythag. by _Dox._ 432a, 15 ff.). The\nsame difficulty arises again in the case of Plato's doctrine of\ntransmigration.--Alkmaion who ascribes ~xunie/nai~ to man alone\nseems not to have held the transmigration doctrine.]\n\n[56\\11: 401 ff. Mull.; _fr._ 112, 5 Diels.]\n\n[57\\11: 462 ff. _fr._ 111.]\n\n[58\\11: Satyros ap. D.L. viii, 59; _Vors._ 195, 26.--Especially\nfamous was his feat of driving away adverse winds from Akragas (cf.\n_fr._ 111, 3); see also Welcker, _Kl. Schr._ iii, 60-1.--The asses'\nskins with which Emped. kept the north winds away from Akragas were\nat any rate intended as _apotropaic_ materials--magic means of\ndriving away spirits. In the same way protection against hail and\nlightning is obtained by hanging up the skin of a hyena, a seal,\netc. (see _Geop._ i, 14, 3-5; i, 16, and Niclas' notes there). These\nskins ~e/chousi du/namin antipath\u00ea=~: Plu., _Smp._ 4, 2, 1, p. 664\nC.--Other magic charms against hail--the ~chalazophu/lakes~, Plu.,\n_Smp._ 7, 2, 2, p. 700 F; Sen., _NQ._ 4b, 6.]\n\n[59\\11: ~. . . eg\u00f4\\ d' humi=n theo\\s a/mbrotos, ouke/ti thn\u00eato/s,\np\u00f4leu=mai meta\\ pa=si tetime/nos ktl.~ 400 f. (_fr._ 112, 4 f.).]\n\n[60\\11: A late echo is to be found in the inspired lines of\nLucretius in praise of Empedokles, i, 717 ff.]\n\n[61\\11: The well-known story of Empedokles' leap into the crater of\nMt. Aetna--intended by his complete disappearance to call forth the\nbelief that he had not died (Luc., _DM._ xx, 4), but had been\n_translated_ {402} alive--is a parody of a serious translation\nlegend and presupposes the existence of one. The parodists' version\nwas contradicted early by Empedokles' follower, the physician\nPausanias: D.L. viii, 69 (this does not come from the fabulously\nconceived narrative of Herakleides Pont. It does not follow, from\nthe epigram quoted by D.L. viii, 61, _fr._ 156; _AP._ vii, 508, that\nPaus. died before Emped.; the authorship of that ep. is uncertain\nand in any case it is not very worthy of credit). The seriously\nintended legend must then have arisen soon after the disappearance\nof Empedokles: it was founded upon the fact that no one did know\nwhere Emp. had died (~tha/natos a/d\u00ealos~, Timaeus ap. D.L. viii,\n71), or could point to the grave which covered his remains. (This is\nexpressly stated by Timaeus, who, in other respects, contradicts the\ntranslation-fable as well as the story of the leap into Mt. Aetna:\nD.L. viii, 72. In the face of this no importance need be attached to\nwhat some one--Neanthes apparently--states ap. D.L. viii, 73; that\nthere was a grave of Emped. at Megara.) Free elaboration was given\nto the translation story by Herakleides Pont. ~p. no/s\u00f4n~: D.L.\nviii, 67-8 (in return, his philosophic rivals contemptuously applied\na malicious story of feigned translation to Herakleides himself, who\nin this way wished to legitimize his own claim to be god or Hero:\nD.L. v, 89 ff. From other sources comes Suid. ~H\u00earakl.\nEuthu/phronos~; cf. Marx, _Griech. M\u00e4rchen v. dankb. Thieren_, p. 97\nff.). All kinds of stupid variations of the story of Empedokles' end\nap. D.L. viii, 74.]\n\n[62\\11: See above, chap. ii, and p. 129.]\n\n[63\\11: Cf. 113 ff.; _fr._ 9.]\n\n[64\\11: ~sark\u00f4=n chit\u00f4/n~, 414, _fr._ 126.]\n\n[65\\11: His treatment of the woman who seemed to be dead (~a/pnous~,\nD.L. viii, 60) has quite the appearance of a psychophysical\n_experiment_; one, however, that was intended to prove the\ncorrectness of precisely the irrational side of his doctrine of the\nsoul.]\n\n[66\\11: ~gui/\u00f4n pi/stis~ is distinguished from ~noei=n~ in v, 57\n(_fr._ 4, 13), and ~no/\u00f4| de/rkesthai~ from ~de/rkesthai o/mmasin~\nin 82 (_fr._ 17, 21); cf. ~ou/t' epi/derkta ta/d' a/ndrasin ou/t'\nepakousta/, ou/te no/\u00f4| peri/l\u00eapta~, 42 f. (_fr._ 2, 7).--Elsewhere\nit is true that Emped. (who throughout avoids prosaic exactitude in\nthe use of technical terms) uses ~no\u00ea=sai~ as simply =\nsense-perception following epic idiom: e.g. 56 (_fr._ 4, 12; but it\nis not quite correct to say that Emped. ~to\\ phronei=n kai\\ to\\\naistha/nesthai tauto/ ph\u00easi~, as Arist. declares: _An._ 427a, 22).]\n\n[67\\11: 378 ff.; _fr._ 109: ~gai/\u00ea| me\\n ga\\r gai=an op\u00f4/pamen~,\netc. (~hora=n~ is here used in its widest sense, ~ei=dos anti\\\nge/nous~, and = ~aistha/nesthai~. Thus, ~no/\u00f4| de/rkesthai~ in 82\n[17, 21] = ~aistha/nesthai~, and very commonly words denoting one of\nthe modes of perception are used instead of those of another\n~ei=dos~, or for the whole ~ge/nos~ of ~ai/sth\u00easis~. Lob., _Rhemat._\n334 ff.).]\n\n[68\\11: 372 ff. Mull.; _fr._ 105: ~hai/matos en pela/gessi . . .\nt\u00ea=| te no/\u00eama ma/lista kukli/sketai anthr\u00f4/poisin; hai=ma ga\\r\nanthr\u00f4/pois perika/rdio/n esti no/\u00eama~.--The blood is the seat of\n~to\\ phronei=n; en tou/t\u00f4| ga\\r ma/lista kekra=sthai ta\\\nstoichei=a~, Thphr., _Sens._ 10, 23 f.]\n\n[69\\11: A kind of ~suggumnasi/a t\u00f4=n aisth\u00ea/se\u00f4n~ as the physician\nAsklepiades defines the idea of the ~psuch\u00ea/~ (_Dox._ 378a, 7).--It\nresembles what Arist. calls the ~pr\u00f4=ton aisth\u00eat\u00ea/rion~.--This\nfunction which Emped. calls ~phronei=n~ would probably be the\n~henopoiou=n~ of the perceptions which Aristot. found wanting in\nEmp. (_An._ 409b, 30 ff.; 410a, 1-10; b, 10).]\n\n[70\\11: ~to\\ noei=n~ is ~s\u00f4matiko\\n h\u00f4/sper to\\ aistha/nesthai~,\nArist., _An._ 427a, 26.]\n\n[71\\11: Arist., _Metaph._ 1009b, 17 ff.]\n\n[72\\11: 298 Mull.; _fr._ 110, 10: ~pa/nta ga\\r i/sthi phro/n\u00easin\ne/chein kai\\ n\u00f4/matos hai=san~. The ~pa/nta~ must be understood\nquite literally; for it is the {403} elements in which the powers of\nperception inhere (~he/kaston t\u00f4=n stoichei/\u00f4n psuch\u00ea\\n ei=nai~ is\nthe opinion attributed to Emped. by Arist., _An._ 404b, 12). But\nelements are present in the mixture of all things, and thus stones,\netc., have ~phro/n\u00easis~ and a \"portion of mind\" in them (though the\nstatement that it is ~hai/ma~ that first produces ~phro/n\u00easis~ will\nnot square with this: Thphr., _Sens._ 23). Emped. attributed\ncomplete sensation and perception to plants, and even gave them\n~nou=s~ and ~gn\u00f4=sis~ (without blood?): [Arist.] _Plant._ 815a, 16\nff.; b, 16 f. That is why they, too, are capable of harbouring\nfallen daimones.]\n\n[73\\11: Emped. himself does not use the word ~psuch\u00ea/~ at all in the\nfragments that have been preserved to us; and it is hardly probable\nthat he himself would have used the term of the psychical faculties\nof the body even if he regarded these as gathered together to a\nsubstantive unity. Later authorities, on the other hand, in their\naccounts of the doctrine of Emped. give the name of ~psuch\u00ea/~\nprecisely to these \"somatic\" intellectual faculties; thus Arist.,\n_An._ 404b, 9 ff.; 409b, 23 ff.: ~hai=ma ph\u00easin ei=nai t\u00ea\\n\npsuch\u00ea/n~, Gal., _Hipp. et Pla._ 2 = v, 283 K.; cf. Cic., _TD._ i,\n19; Tert., _An._ 5.]\n\n[74\\11: 113-19 Mull.; _frr._ 11, 15, do not (as Plu., _adv. Col._\n12, p. 1113 D, understood them) teach the pre-existence and\npersistence after death of the psychic powers within the world of\nthe elements, but merely speak of the indestructibility of the\nelements that are the component parts of the human body, even when\nthe latter has suffered dissolution.]\n\n[75\\11: ~a/t\u00eas leim\u00f4/n~, _fr._ 121, 4 (21 Mull.; cf. 16) is the name\ngiven by Empedokles to the earth; and not to Hades (as has been\nsupposed), of which--as an intermediate place of purgation between\ntwo births--there is nowhere any mention in his verses. That the\n~aterp\u00ea\\s ch\u00f4=ros~ (_fr._ 121, 1) to which Emped. is cast down, the\nrealm of ~Pho/nos ktl.~ (_fr._ 121) and the ~A/t\u00eas leim\u00f4/n~, all\nrefer to the _earth_, ~ho e/ggeios to/pos, ta\\ peri\\ g\u00ea=n~, is\nexpressly stated by Themistios, _Or._ 13, and Hierocl. _in C. Aur._\n24 (_fr._ 121), p. 470 Mull. [_FPG._ i]; Synes. also implies it\n(_Ep._ 147, p. 283 C; _Prov._ i, 89 D); the same is distinctly\nimplied for _fr._ 121, 4, and by Jul., _Or._ vii, 226 B; Philo, ii,\np. 638 M.--Procl., _in _Crat.__, p. 103 Boiss., connects _fr._ 121,\n3, ~auchm\u00earai/ te no/soi kai\\ s\u00ea/psies e/rga te rheusta/~\nimmediately with _fr._ 121, 2, and both lines acc. to him apply to\n~ta\\ hupo\\ t\u00ea\\n sel\u00ea/n\u00ean~; i.e. not to any kind of underworld but to\nthe region of the earth (cf. Emp. ap. Hippol., _RH._ i, 4; _Vors._\n210, 27; _Dox._ 559). The idea that Hades is being spoken of in\nthese lines is a view peculiar to moderns who have misunderstood the\npoet and set aside the clear testimony of Themistios and the rest.\nMaass, _Orpheus_, 113, speaks as though the interpretation in favour\nof Hades rested upon a tradition which I \"contradicted\". On the\ncontrary, that interpretation is itself contradicted by definite\ntradition and by common sense (for Emp. falls from Heaven to earth\nand not, please God, to Hades!). The view is quite baseless (though\nMaass himself finds in the ~e/rga rheusta/~ of _fr._ 121 [20\nM.]--the inconstant, transitory works of men upon earth--a support\nfor his Hades-view: these \"fluid works\" or things are, he thinks,\nnothing else but the stream of filth, the ~sk\u00f4\\r aei/n\u00f4n~, in Hades\nof which pious invention rumoured: certainly an ingenious\ninterpretation). Emp. is, in fact, the first to regard this earthly\nsojourning as the real Hell--the ~asun\u00ea/th\u00eas, aterp\u00ea\\s ch\u00f4=ros~\n(_fr._ 118, 121, 1, the latter a parodying reminiscence of ~l~ 94)--\nan ~a/ntron hupo/stegon~ (_fr._ 120) filled with all the plagues and\nterrors of the original Hades (121). Stoics and Epicureans (see\nbelow) took up the idea after him and elaborated it in detail. The\ndaimones that are shut up in this life here below--a ~z\u00f4\u00ea\\ a/bios~\n(_fr._ 2, 3)--are as if dead: {404} _frr._ 125 (?), 35, 14. The\nOrphic idea of the ~s\u00f4=ma--s\u00ea=ma~ (see above, p. 345) was thus\nthoroughly and energetically carried out. (Macr., _in S. Scip._ 1,\n10, 9 ff., attributed the idea that the _inferi_ are nothing else\nbut the material world of earth to the old _theologi_ (\u00a7 17) who, he\nsays, lived _before_ the development of a philosophic science of\nnature.)]\n\n[76\\11: 3 Mull.; _fr._ 115, 3: ~eu=te/ tis (t\u00f4=n daimo/n\u00f4n)\namplaki/\u00ea|si _pho/n\u00f4|_ phi/la gui=a mi\u00ean\u00ea|~. He means ~br\u00f4=sis\nsark\u00f4=n kai\\ all\u00ealophagi/a~ as Plu. paraphrases it, _Es. Carn._ 1,\np. 996 B (for this must always imply acc. to Emp. the \"murder\" of a\nspirit of the same race: _fr._ 136). Even for God it is a crime to\ntaste of a meat (\"blood\")-offering and, in fact, there were only\nbloodless offerings made in the Golden Age (which was described by\nEmp. not in the ~Phusika/~--the principle of which work denied that\nthere had ever been such a period--but in some other poem in which\nhe left his philosophic doctrine out of account; perhaps the\n~Katharmoi/~): 420 ff. M; _fr._ 128, 3 ff.]\n\n[77\\11: _fr._ 115, 4. The earth then becomes the place of their\nbanishment and punishment for gods that have broken their oath. This\nis a version of the impressive picture in Hes., _Th._ 793 ff. _Dei\npeierantes_ were punished for nine years (cf. Hes., _Th._ 801) in\nTartaros: Orpheus (not Lucan in his \"Orpheus\") ap. Serv., _A._ vi,\n565. (To this also alludes the poet from whose elegiac verses came\nthe frag. ap. Serv., _A._ vi, 324: ~tou=~ [sc. ~Stugo\\s hu/datos]\nstugno\\n p\u00f4=ma kai\\ athana/t\u00f4|~: this is probably how the words\nshould be read.) So that instead of the \"underworld\" or Tartaros,\nthe world is for Emp. the worst place of sorrows. From Emp. is\nderived the conception that the realm of the _inferi_ is our world,\nthat inhabited by men, and that there is no other, nor any need of\nanother ~ha/|d\u00eas~--a conception often alluded to and improved upon\nby Stoic and other semi-philosophers (esp. clear in Serv., _A._ vi,\n127, often only in allegorical sense: Lucr. iii, 978 ff. [See also\nBevan, _Stoics and Sceptics_, p. 107.]).]\n\n[78\\11: 30,000 ~h\u00f4=rai~: which means probably \"years\" (hardly\n\"seasons\" as Dieterich, _Nekyia_, 119, takes it). The figure 30,000\nhas no special meaning (e.g. 300 periods of a life-time each): it is\nmerely a concrete phrase for \"innumerable\" (and is frequent: Hirzel,\n_Ber. s\u00e4chs. Ges. d. Wiss._ 1885, p. 64 ff.). This enormous period\nof time is the divine counter-part, as measured by divine standards\nof time, of the ~me/gas eniauto/s~, the _enna\u00ebteris_ during which\nthe earthly murderer had to fly from the land of his violent deed.\nThe fiction of Emp. clearly shows the influence of this expiation of\nmurder by ~apeniautismo/s~.]\n\n[79\\11: _fr._ 121 (22 ff.).]\n\n[80\\11: ~argale/as bioi/toio keleu/thous . . . ~ _fr._ 115, 8 (8).]\n\n[81\\11: Emp. does not even use the word ~psuch\u00ea/~ of these\n~dai/mones~ confined within corporeality. They are so named,\nhowever, regularly and without qualification by the later authors\nwho quote verses from the _Prooimion_ of the ~Phusika/~, Plutarch,\nPlotinos, Hippolytos, etc.]\n\n[82\\11: Peculiar to Emp. is the attempt to give actual details of\nthe crimes for which the spirits are condemned to ~ens\u00f4ma/t\u00f4sis~;\nand also the extension of metempsychosis to plants (which is\noccasionally attributed, but by late authorities only, to the\nPythagoreans as well).]\n\n[83\\11: The entirely unpurified seem not to have been condemned to\neverlasting punishment in Hades, of which in general he shows no\nknowledge, by Emp. (as by the Pythagoreans sometimes). He merely, it\nseems, threatens them with ever-renewed rebirth upon earth and the\nimpossibility of ~to\\ ku/klou l\u00ea=xai~ (until the complete ascendency\nof ~phili/a~). This appears to be the meaning of _fr._ 145 (455 f.)\nfrom the way in which Cl. Al., _Protr._ ii, 27, p. 23 P., cites the\nlines.] {405}\n\n[84\\11: As we may paraphrase--though indeed here, too, only with\nreservations--the ~kako/t\u00eas~ and ~kako/t\u00eates~ of Emp. _fr._ 145 (454\nf.).]\n\n[85\\11: _frr._ 136-7, 128, 9 f. (424, 440). Very remarkable in a\nthinker of such an early period is what is said (_fr._ 135) about\nthe ~pa/nt\u00f4n no/mimon~ which forbids ~ktei/nein to\\\ne/mpsuchon~.--Apart from this we have other vestiges of _kathartic_\nrules: purification with water drawn from five springs: _fr._ 143\n(see Append. v); abstention from the eating of beans (_fr._ 141) and\nof laurel leaves (_fr._ 140). The laurel is sacred as a magic plant,\ntogether with the ~ski/lla~ (see App. v) and ~rha/mnos~ (see above,\nchap. v, n. 95). Cf. _Gp._ 11, 2, etc. Its special sacredness gives\nthe laurel its importance in the cult of Apollo. Emp. (like\nPythagoras) seems to have paid special honour to Apollo: it appears\nfrom something that is said ap. D.L. viii, 57, that he wrote a\n~prooi/mion eis Apo/ll\u00f4na~: the exalted conception of a divinity\nthat is pure ~phr\u00ea\\n hier\u00ea/~ in abstraction from all\nsense-perception, elaborated by Emp. in _frr._ 133-4, was regarded\nby him as applying particularly ~peri\\ Apo/ll\u00f4nos~ (Amm. in Arist.,\n_Interpr._ 249, 1 ed. Brand. 135a, 23).]\n\n[86\\11: In fanciful ways: _fr._ 127 (lion, laurel), 448 Mull.]\n\n[87\\11: _fr._ 146 (457) ~pro/moi~ being used probably with intention\nas a vague term: regal power would hardly have seemed to possess\nspecial merit to the democratically minded Emp. He hardly knew it in\nany form but the tyrannis and to this he showed himself an energetic\nopponent (even though the violent language of Timaeus, the enemy of\ntyrants, is not to be taken quite literally). He himself was offered\nroyal power, but he refused it with contempt as one who was ~pa/s\u00eas\narch\u00ea=s allo/trios~: Xanthos and Arist. ap. D.L. viii, 63; _Vors._\n196, 10. He might all the same (and rightly) regard himself in\npolitical matters, too, as one of the ~pro/moi~; it is plain that in\nthe enumeration of those who were ~eis te/los~ born as ~ma/nteis te\nkai\\ humnopo/loi kai\\ i\u00eatroi/, kai\\ pro/moi anthr\u00f4/poisin\nepichthoni/oisi pe/lontai~, and were never to be born again, he\nincludes himself especially, and, in fact, takes himself as the\nmodel of this last and highest stage upon earth. He himself was all\nthese things simultaneously.]\n\n[88\\11: _frr._ 146-7 (459 ff.) ~e/nthen anablastou=si theoi\\\ntim\u00ea=|si phe/ristoi, athana/tois a/lloisin home/stioi, e/n te\ntrape/zais~ (read ~_e/n te tra/pezoi_~--a tmesis, = ~entra/pezoi/\nte); eu/nies andrei/\u00f4n ache/\u00f4n, apo/k\u00earoi, ateirei=s~.]\n\n[89\\11: Emped. perhaps described himself as \"god\" also in _fr._ 23,\n11 (144) ~alla\\ tor\u00f4=s tou=t' i/sthi~ (he is speaking to Pausanias),\n~_theou= pa/ra_ mu=thon akou/sas~. See Bidez, _Biogr. d'Emp._, p.\n166 (1894)--unless these words would be better taken as an\nabbreviated comparison (with omission of ~h\u00f4s~): \"as certainly as if\nyou had received these words from a god.\"]\n\n[90\\11: As Plu. is inclined to do: _Exil._ xvii, p. 607 D.]\n\n[91\\11: As several modern critics have attempted to do.]\n\n[92\\11: _fr._ 17, 30 (92).]\n\n[93\\11: See above, chap. i, pp. 4 ff.]\n\n[94\\11: As late again as Plotinos, who speaks of the ~ditto\\n en\nh\u00eami=n~: the ~s\u00f4=ma~ which is a ~th\u00eari/on z\u00f4|\u00f4the/n~ and the\n~al\u00eath\u00ea\\s a/nthr\u00f4pos~ distinct from it, etc. (1, 1, 10; 6, 7, 5).]\n\n[95\\11: At any rate Emp. spoke of the ekstasis, the _furor_ which is\nan _animi purgatio_ and to be entirely distinguished from that which\nis produced by _alienatio mentis_ (~phronei=n alloi=a~, _fr._ 108):\nCael. Aur., _Morb. Chron._ i, 5, p. 25 Sich. = _Vors._ 223. A\nspecial ~enthousiastiko/n~ in the soul as its ~theio/taton~ (part):\nStoics (and Plato) acc. to _Dox._ 639, 25. A special organ of the\nsoul which effects the union with the divine, being the ~a/nthos\nt\u00ea=s ousi/as h\u00eam\u00f4=n~, is mentioned in Proclus (Zeller, _Phil. d.\nGriech._^2 iii, 2, 738).] {406}\n\n[96\\11: ~to\\ ho/lon~, the whole reality of Being and Becoming in the\nworld, cannot be comprehended by man through his senses nor even\nwith ~nou=s~: _fr._ 2 (36-43). But Empedokles has in his own\npersuasion grasped it; he is situated ~sophi/\u00eas ep' a/kroisi~ (_fr._\n4, 8), ~aut\u00ea\\n epagge/lletai d\u00f4/sein t\u00ea\\n al\u00ea/theian~ (Procl., _in\nTi._ 106 E. Proclus declares that the words ~sophi/\u00eas ep'\na/kroisi~--and this is a further point--are meant to apply to Emped.\nhimself. (I do not quite understand Bidez' doubts about what is said\nhere, and in what follows: see _Archiv. f. Gesch. d. Phil._ ix, 203,\n42.) Whence, then, did the poet obtain this knowledge of the truth\nsince it is revealed neither to the senses nor to the ~nou=s~? At\nany rate, the ~psuchopompoi\\ duna/meis~ (Porph., _Antr._ 8), who\nconducted his soul-daimon out of the region of the gods, say to the\nsoul (_fr._ 2, 8): ~su\\ d' ou=n epei\\ h\u00f4=d' elia/sth\u00eas~ (i.e. \"since\nyou have been cast up here--on the earth\"--not \"since you have so\ndesired it\", as Bergk, _Opusc._ ii, 23, explains: which would be a\ndistorted idea expressed in distorted language)--~peu/seai ou ple/on\n\u00eae\\ brotei/\u00ea m\u00ea=tis ho/p\u00f4pen~ (thus with Panzerbieter, for\n~o/r\u00f4re~). According to this we must suppose that his more profound\nknowledge (insight into the ~mi=xi/s te dia/llaxi/s te mige/nt\u00f4n~ of\nthe elements, together with knowledge of the destiny and purpose of\nthe soul-daimones, etc.), which he cannot have got on earth or in\nhis earthly body must have been brought with him out of his divine\npast-life. This knowledge is then peculiar to the daimon (or\n~psuch\u00ea/~ in the older sense) that is buried in the body; and Emp.\npresumably owes it to an _~ana/mn\u00easis~_ of his earlier life (a\nfaculty that is only rarely active). From what other source could he\nhave got his knowledge of his previous ~ens\u00f4mat\u00f4/seis~ (_fr._ 117)?\nHe has even farther and more profound knowledge than he dares\ncommunicate--_fr._ 4 (45-51), and says quite plainly that he is\nkeeping back in piety a last remnant of wisdom that is unsuited for\nhuman ears (to this extent the authorities--~a/lloi d' \u00ea=san hoi\nle/gontes~--of S.E., _M._ vii, 122--have rightly understood\nhim).--The belief in a miraculous power of _~ana/mn\u00easis~_ that goes\nbeyond the present life of the individual may have been derived by\nEmp. from Pythagorean doctrine or mythology. Emp. himself follows\nthe legend of the Pyth. school and attributes such a power of\nrecollection to Pythagoras: ~ho/ppote ga\\r pa/s\u00ea|si . . .~ _fr._ 129\n[430 ff.]. See Append. x. The eager development--indeed, the\ncult--of the ~mn\u00ea/m\u00ea~ in Pythagorean circles is well known. The\ninvention of the myths describing the fountain of Mnemosyne in Hades\nmay also be Pythagorean (see below). Throughout the various\n~ens\u00f4mat\u00f4/seis~ of the soul it is the undying ~mn\u00ea/m\u00ea~ that alone\npreserves the unity of personality which (as the ~psuch\u00ea/~) lives\nthrough all these transformations and is bound together in this way.\nIt is evident how important this idea was for the doctrine of\ntransmigration (it occurs also in the teaching of Buddha). Plato,\nlike Empedokles, seems to have got the idea of an _~ana/mn\u00easis~_\nreaching beyond the limits of the present life from the\nPythagoreans: he, then, it is true, developed the idea in connexion\nwith his own philosophy to unexpected conclusions (cf. further,\nDieterich, _Nekyia_, 122).]\n\n[97\\11: ~phili/a~ is for him (not indeed in his words but in his\nintention as Arist. understood him): ~aiti/a t\u00f4=n agath\u00f4=n, to\\ de\\\nnei=kos t\u00f4=n kak\u00f4=n~, _Metaph._ 985a, 4 ff.; 1075b, 1-7. Hence the\n~\u00eapio/phr\u00f4n Philo/t\u00eatos amemphe/os a/mbrotos horm\u00ea/~ (_fr._ 35) is\ncontrasted with ~Nei=kos maino/menon~ (115, 14), ~oulo/menon~ (17,\n19), ~lugro/n~ (109). The ~sphai=ros~ in which only ~phili/a~\nprevails while ~nei=kos~ is completely vanquished, is called\n~moni/\u00ea| peri\u00ea/rge\u00ef gai/\u00f4n~, _fr._ 27, 28.] {407}\n\n[98\\11: ~theoi\\ dolichai/\u00f4nes~ (_frr._ 20, 12, 23, 8). Exactly the\nsame is said of the ~_dai/mones_ hoi/te bi/oio lelo/gchasi\nmakrai/\u00f4nos~ (115, 5). In the face of these expressions, so\ndefinitely setting a period to the lifetime of the gods, we must\nsuppose that the epithets which Emp. applies to himself--he is to be\nin the future ~theo\\s a/mbrotos ouk e/ti thn\u00eato/s~, 112, 4--are\nmerely intended to assert that he shall not die any more in his\nincarnation as a man (the same thing must be meant when those who\nare delivered from the circle of rebirth are called ~apo/k\u00earoi,\na/teirei=s~ (147); the gods are only called ~a/thanatoi~ by\ntraditional convention). Plutarch also, _Def. Or._ 16, p. 418 E,\ndistinctly states that the ~dai/mones~ of Emp. eventually die. That\nthe gods (but not ~to\\ thei=on~ itself) were liable to extinction had\nalready been the opinion of Anaximander and Anaximenes. Acc. to Emp.\nthe individual ~dai/mones~ would be reabsorbed into the universal\ndivinity, the ~sphai=ros~ (just as the individual deities of the\nStoics are reabsorbed at the world-conflagration into Zeus who is\nalone indestructible). [= ll. 131, 141, 461, 460 M.]]\n\n[99\\11: Emp., _frr._ 133, 134 (389-96), speaks of a supersensual\ndivinity that is entirely ~phr\u00ea\\n hier\u00ea/~: he gives to this divinity\nthe name of Apollo, but the description is said to apply ~peri\\\npanto\\s tou= thei/ou~. Hipp., _RH._ vii, 29, p. 386 D.-S., refers\nthe description to the ~sphai=ros~. The ~sphai=ros~, in which no\n~nei=kos~ is left was called by Emp. ~ho theo/s, ho eudaimone/statos\ntheo/s~ (Arist., _An._ i, 5, 410b, 5-6; _Metaph._ ii, 4, 1000b, 3).\nIt is, however, certain that Emp. would not have **regarded the\n~sphai=ros~ as pure ~phr\u00ea\\n hier\u00ea/~. It appears, in fact, that in\nthe ~sphai=ros~, in which everything is together and united, even\nthe divine power thought of as supersensual is brought to a close.\nIn the world-state of multiplicity caused by ~nei=kos~ divinity\nseems to be regarded as separate from the elements and the forces.\n\"Furious conflict\" (115, 14) then attacks even the divinity and\ndivides it against itself; hence the origin of individual\n~dai/mones~ as a self-caused division of the divine, a desertion\nfrom the One ~thei=on~--the individual ~dai/mones~ are ~phuga/des,\ntheo/then~ (115, 13). These individual ~dai/mones~ are entangled in\nthe world from its origin until at last, having become purified,\nthey rise again to the heights of divinity; and when all\nindividuality is again fused into one by ~phili/a~ they return once\nmore into the universal divinity in order with it to enter into the\n~sphai=ros~.--Thus we may perhaps reconstruct the Empedoklean\nfantasy. His lines do not supply sufficient evidence for the\ncomplete reconstruction of his picture of the perpetually recurring\nprocess. We should naturally expect a certain obscurity to cling to\nthis attempt to fuse together physiology and theology.]\n\n[100\\11: Lucr. iii, 370-3.]\n\n[101\\11: All that is essential on the subject of Demokritos'\ndoctrine of the soul is to be found in Arist., _An._ i, 2, p. 403b,\n31-404a, 16; 405a., 7-13; i, 3, p. 406b, 15-22; _Resp._ iv, p. 471b,\n30-472a, 17.--The air is full of the particles which Demokritos\ncalls ~nou=s~ and ~psuch\u00ea/~: _Resp._ 472a, 6-8 [_Vors._ ii, 36]. The\natoms hovering in the air become visible as \"motes in the sunbeam\";\nof these some are the soul-atoms (this must be the meaning of _An._\n404A, 3 ff.; Iamb. ap. Stob., _Ecl._ i, p. 384, 15 W., is only\ndrawing upon Arist.). This is a modification of the opinion held by\nthe Pythagoreans (mentioned also by Arist. 404a, 16 ff.) that the\nmotes in the sunbeam are \"souls\" (see above, chap. x, n. 34).\nInhalation of the world-stuff as a condition of life in the\nindividual is imitated from Herakleitos (see S.E., _M._ vii, 129).]\n\n[102\\11: The soul acc. to Dem. ~ekbai/nei me\\n tou= s\u00f4/matos, en de\\\nt\u00f4=| ekbai/nein diaphorei=tai kai\\ diaskeda/nnutai~, Iamb. ap.\nStob., _Ecl._ i, p. 384, 16 f. W.] {408}\n\n[103\\11: Dem. ~phthart\u00ea\\n (ei=nai t\u00ea\\n psuch\u00ea\\n) t\u00f4=| s\u00f4/mati\nsundiaphtheirome/n\u00ean~, _Dox._ 393a, 8 [_Vors._ A 109]. Since the\ndisruption of the soul-atoms is not effected at a single blow death\nmay, in consequence, sometimes be only apparent; i.e. when many but\nnot all the soul-particles have escaped. For this reason also, with\nthe possible re-assemblage of the soul-atoms, ~anabi\u00f4/seis~ of the\napparently dead may occur. Cases of this kind seem to have been\ntreated in the work ~peri\\ t\u00f4=n en Ha/idou~: see Procl., _in _Rp.__\nii, 113, 6 Kr.; D.L. ix, 46; it is counted among the most famous, or\nat least the most popular of Dem.'s writings in the anecdote ap.\nAth. 168 B; cf. [Hp.] _Ep._ 10, 3, p. 291 Hch. [ix, 322 Lit.];\n_Vors._ 55 C, 2. This view of the retention of vitality, of course,\nonly applies to the period immediately following the (apparent)\ndeath (it is fairly correctly represented by [Plu.] _Plac. Ph._ 4,\n4, 4 [_Dox._ 390], it was probably attributed to Dem. on account of\na similar observation made by Parmenides; see above, p. 373).\nNevertheless, out of it grew up the assertion, which was then\nattributed to Dem., that in fact ~ta\\ nekra\\ t\u00f4=n s\u00f4ma/t\u00f4n\naistha/netai~: e.g. Alex. Aph. in Arist., _Top._ 21, 21; [_Vors._\nii, 38, 8]; Stob., _Ecl._ i, p. 477, 18 W. In the case, at least, of\nthose that are really \"dead\", i.e. of bodies that have been deserted\nby all the soul-atoms, Dem. certainly never taught the presence of\n~ai/sth\u00easis~: against the vulgarization of his opinions that would\nattribute such a view as this to him (as Epicurus himself did) the\n_Democritici_ spoken of by Cic. (_TD._ i, 82) made their\nprotest.--The work ~peri\\ t\u00f4=n en Ha/idou~ can certainly not have\nconfined itself to considerations of a purely physical nature;\notherwise Thrasyllos (D.L. ix, 46) could not have classified it\namong the ~_\u00eathika\\_ bibli/a~ of Dem. [_Vors._ ii, 19]. It is,\nindeed, difficult to imagine what from Dem.'s point of view there\ncould have been to say about \"the things in the Underworld\". It is\nhardly possible to suppose (as Mullach, _Dem. fr._, pp. 117-18, and\nHeyne do) that Dem. would think himself obliged either to answer or\nto parody the fabulous inventions of the poets about the realm of\nshadows. It is difficult to be certain that Dem. was really the\nauthor of the work: the forgery of later times was particularly fond\nof turning the most clear-headed of materialists into a mage and a\njack-of-all-trades. (Dem.'s observations of the possibility of\n~anabiou=n~ is in part at least the origin of the writing ~p. t. en\nha/|dou~; it is also responsible for the anecdote that makes him\npromise to the Persian king that he will restore his dead wife to\nlife again, etc.--a variation of an ingenious story widely spread\nboth in the East and the West. See my Lecture on Greek\nNovel-writing: _Verh. der Philologenvers. zu Rostock_, 1875, p. 68\nf.)--The \"fragmenta moralia\" of Dem. are with rare exceptions (e.g.\nMull. _frr._ 7, 23, 48, 49, etc. = 146, 159, 147, 127 D.) wholesale\nfabrications of the feeblest kind. One of them, however (119 Mull.,\n297 D.), agrees at least with what Dem. may very well have said\nabout the punishments in Hell (though in rather different words--he\nwas incapable of quite such a monstrosity as ~muthoplaste/ontes~,\nwhich sounds very late Greek. Vain efforts have been made to justify\nthis ~muthoplaste/\u00f4~ by reference to the older ~muthopla/st\u00eas~. But\n~muthopoio/s, odophu/lax, arguroko/pos~, etc., are also old, and it\nis no secret that verbs derived by further extension from such\ncomposite verbal nouns are mostly late formations: thus\n~muthopoie/\u00f4, odophulake/\u00f4, argurokope/\u00f4~, and again ~petrobole/\u00f4,\nhierophante/\u00f4, teknoktone/\u00f4~, etc.). In another of these _falsa_ no\necho even of Dem.'s thought is to be found: _fr. moral._ 1 Mull.\n[171 D.] ~psuch\u00ea\\ oik\u00eat\u00ea/rion dai/monos~.]\n\n[104\\11: Dem., whose inquiries set out from the study of inorganic\nnature, {409} was led to predicate a mechanical obedience to law in\norganic nature as well. Anaxagoras starting from the study of\norganic nature and in particular of man, its highest development,\nderived from that study the concept of purpose--purpose consciously\nundertaken and carried out--and this idea affected his outlook upon\nthe whole of nature, including inorganic nature. This teleological\nsystem, regarded as of universal application, is made by him to\ndepend on a Being modelled upon the human mind, the only source, in\nfact, from which he could have derived his experience of action\ncarried out in accordance with pre-arranged purpose.]\n\n[105\\11: Cf. here and on what follows, Heinze, _Ber. d. S\u00e4chs. Ges.\nd. Wiss._ 1890, pp. 1 ff.]\n\n[106\\11: ~nou=s~ must be omniscient if it ~gn\u00f4/m\u00ean peri\\ panto\\s\ni/schei~ (_fr._ 6 M. = 12 D.). It has organized (~dieko/sm\u00ease~) not\nonly what was and is but also what is to be: _frr._ 6, 12 [12, 14\nD.].]\n\n[107\\11: Arist., _Ph._ 256b. 24 ff.]\n\n[108\\11: ~ho ga\\r nou=s~ (of Anaxag.) ~hei=s~: Arist., _Metaph._\n1069b, 31. On the other hand, ~chr\u00ea/mata a/peira pl\u00ea=thos~: Anaxag.\n_fr._ 1.]\n\n[109\\11: ~Anaxago/ras ph\u00easi to\\n nou=n koino\\n outhe\\n outheni\\ t\u00f4=n\na/ll\u00f4n e/chein~. Arist., _An._ i, 2, p. 405b, 19 ff.; cf. iii, 4, p.\n429b, 23 f.]\n\n[110\\11: Anaxag. _fr._ 6 [12]: ~ta\\ me\\n a/lla panto\\s\nmoi=ran mete/chei, no/os de/ esti a/peiron kai\\ autokrate\\s kai\\\nme/miktai oudeni\\ chr\u00ea/mati, alla\\ mou=nos auto\\s eph, he\u00f4utou=\nesti. (a/peiron~ does not seem to supply the required opposition to\nwhat proceeds: ? ~haplo/on~. Anaxag. used the word of ~nou=s~ acc.\nto Arist., _An._ 405a, 16; 429b, 23. Zeller also suggests\n~haplo/on~, _Archiv f. G. d. Philos._ v, 441.)]\n\n[111\\11: ~ho/sa psuch\u00ea\\n e/chei, kai\\ ta\\ me/z\u00f4 kai\\ ta\\ ela/ss\u00f4,\npa/nt\u00f4n no/os _krate/ei_; kai\\ t\u00ea=s perich\u00f4r\u00ea/sios t\u00ea=s sumpa/s\u00eas\nno/os ekra/t\u00ease, \u00f4/ste perich\u00f4r\u00ea=sai t\u00ea\\n arch\u00ea/n~, _fr._ 6 [12].\nThis ~kratei=n~ at the beginning of the ~perich\u00f4/r\u00easis~ cannot at\nany rate take place by the inter-mixture of ~nou=s~ in the\n~spe/rmata~ or by the entry of ~nou=s~ into these. Because ~nou=s~\nis both ~apath\u00ea/s~ and ~amig\u00ea/s~s, it ~kratoi/\u00ea a\\n _amig\u00ea\\s_ \u00f4/n~,\nArist., _Ph._ 256b, 27; cf. 429a, 18. Does this also apply to\n~nou=s~ when it ~t\u00f4=n psuch\u00ea\\n echo/nt\u00f4n krate/ei~? And yet in this\ncase it appears to be divided, as ~mei/z\u00f4n~ or ~ela/tt\u00f4n~ in each\ncase, in the ~z\u00f4=|a~.--No one can help being reminded here of the\ninsoluble _aporiai_ raised in Aristotle's own doctrine of the active\n~nou=s~ which, in this case too, is ~apath\u00ea/s, amig\u00ea/s, ch\u00f4risto/s~\nfrom the body; is also deprived of all attributes of individuality\n(which reside entirely in the lower psychical powers) and thus\nappears as a common divine spirit. And yet it is said to be a\n~mo/rion t\u00ea=s psuch\u00ea=s~, present ~en t\u00ea=| psuch\u00ea=|~, dwelling inside\nthe body yet having nothing in common with it, and in any case is\nthought of as an individual mind. In the case of Anaxagoras the same\n_aporiai_ apply also to the nourishing, feeling, desiring, and\nmoving soul (as it is called by Arist.); for all the \"parts\" of the\nsoul are included almost indistinguishably by him under the\nconception of ~nou=s~.--The difficulty of reconciling the unity and\ninward continuity of the spiritual (immaterial, that cannot be\nthought of as divided)--with its individuation and distribution into\nthe multiplicity of souls, is one which repeatedly occurs in Greek\nphilosophy.]\n\n[112\\11: ~dia\\ pa/nt\u00f4n io/nta~, Pl., _Crat._ 413 C.]\n\n[113\\11: ~en panti\\ panto\\s moi=ra e/nesti pl\u00ea\\n no/ou; e/sti hoi=si\nde\\ kai\\ no/os e/ni~, _fr._ 5 [11].]\n\n[114\\11: ~no/os de\\ pa=s ho/moio/s esti kai\\ ho me/z\u00f4n kai\\ ho\nela/ss\u00f4n~, _fr._ 6 [12].]\n\n[115\\11: Arist., _An._ i, 2, p. 404b, 1-7: Anaxag. often gives ~to\\n\nnou=n~ as ~to\\ ai/tion tou= kal\u00f4=s kai\\ orth\u00f4=s; hete/r\u00f4thi de\\~ (he\nsays) ~_tou=ton ei=nai t\u00ea\\n psuch\u00ea/n_; en ha/pasi ga\\r hupa/rchein\nauto\\n toi=s z\u00f4/|ois, kai\\ mega/lois kai\\ mikroi=s {410} kai\\\ntimi/ois kai\\ atimote/rois~ (in which case the ~nou=s~ that dwells\nwithin all the ~z\u00f4=|a~ cannot be any longer regarded as ~ho kata\\\nphro/n\u00easin lego/menos nou=s~). Anaxag. had expressed himself\nindistinctly: ~h\u00ea=tton diasaphei= peri\\ aut\u00f4n~ (i.e, the relation\nbetween ~nou=s~ and ~psuch\u00ea/~). Cf. 405a, 13 f. In the sense of the\nwords as used by Anaxagoras ~nou=s~ and ~psuch\u00ea/~ were simply\nidentified by Plato: _Crat._ 400 A.]\n\n[116\\11: D.L. ii, 8 [_Vors._ 375]. Acc. to Anaxag. the moon has\n~_oik\u00ea/seis_ (alla\\ kai\\ lo/phous kai\\ pha/raggas~). _Fr._ 10 [4]\nprobably refers to the men and other ~z\u00f4=|a~ in the moon (to whom\nyet another moon gives light). Anaxag. ~t\u00ea\\n sel\u00ea/n\u00ean g\u00ea=n ph\u00easi\\n\nei=nai~ (i.e. an inhabitable heavenly body like the earth), Pl.,\n_Ap._ 26 D; cf. Hippol., _R.H._ i, 8, 10, p. 22, 40 D.-S.--We are\nreminded of the Orphico-Pythagorean fantasies about life on the moon\n(see above, chap. x, n. 76).]\n\n[117\\11: Anaxag. counted the plants as ~z\u00f4=|a~ and ascribed emotions\nto them: ~h\u00ea/desthai kai\\ lupei=sthai~ [Arist.] _Plant._ 815a, 18.\nLike Plato and Demokritos Anaxag. also regarded plants as ~z\u00f4=|a\ne/ggeia~: Plu., _QN._ 1, 911 D.]\n\n[118\\11: In spite of its entry into ~chr\u00ea/mata, nou=s~ is yet said\nto remain \"unmixed\" and unaffected by them: ~autokra/tora ga\\r\nauto\\n o/nta kai\\ oudeni\\ memigme/non pa/nta ph\u00easi\\n auto\\n kosmei=n\nta\\ pra/gmata dia\\ pa/nt\u00f4n io/nta~, Pl., _Crat._ 413 C. We thus have\nat the same time ~dia\\ pa/nt\u00f4n io/nta~ and denial of mixture which\nis reiterated in stronger and stronger language. Thus ~nou=s~ even\nso remains still ~eph' he\u00f4utou= (ei m\u00ea\\ ga\\r eph' he\u00f4utou \u00ea=n,\n_a/ll\u00f4|_ te/\u00f4| eme/mikto a/n; metei=che de\\ a\\n hapa/nt\u00f4n chr\u00eama/t\u00f4n\nei eme/mikto/ te\u00f4|; en panti\\ ga\\r panto\\s moi=ra he/nesti ktl.~ So\nperhaps we should read _fr._ 6 [12] restoring a completed syllogism.\nIn the traditional text the clause ~ei eme/mikto/ te\u00f4|~ is\nsuperfluous and in the way). It takes no particle of the others into\nitself.]\n\n[119\\11: [Plu.] _Plac. Phil._ 5, 25, 2 (A\u00ebt., _Dox._ 437; _Vors._\n397, 18), in the chap. ~pote/rou esti\\n hu/pnos kai\\ tha/natos\npsuch\u00ea=s \u00ea\\ s\u00f4/matos~; Anaxag. taught: ~ei=nai de\\ kai\\ psuch\u00ea=s\ntha/naton to\\n diach\u00f4rismo/n~. Nothing else can be meant by the\nwords--the theme of the chapter alone shows it--than: the death of\nthe soul (as well as of the body) occurs with its separation (from\nthe body). ~to\\n diach\u00f4rismo/n~ is subject and ~ei=nai t\u00ea=s psuch\u00ea=s\ntha/naton~ predicate of the sentence (not the other way round as\nSiebeck seems to think: _Ges. d. Psychol._ i, 285). The violent\nalteration proposed by Wyttenbach (_de immort. animi_, **_Opusc._ ii,\n597 f.) has not the smallest justification: ~ei=nai de\\ kai\\ to\\n\ntha/naton psuch\u00ea=s diach\u00f4rismo\\n kai\\ s\u00f4/matos~. There could have\nbeen no reason at all in appealing specially to Anaxagoras for a\nconfirmation of the popular conception of death (it would be nothing\nmore). Further, in this particular connexion such a definition of\ndeath is quite out of place; since the theme of the chap. is only to\nask the question whether death also affects the soul, not what it\nis. ~psuch\u00ea/~ here must mean the individual soul, not the ~nou=s~\nwhich is the basis of the individual souls. Anaxag. made the\nindividual soul perish at death--so much is certain. It must be\nadmitted that we cannot say for certain whether the Placita are\nreferring to an actual utterance of Anaxag. or are only drawing\nconclusions from his teaching.]\n\n[120\\11: _fr._ 17 [17].]\n\n\n{{411}}\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nTHE LAY AUTHORS\n\n\nTheology and Philosophy, each in its own way attempting to go beyond\ninadequate popular belief, could only very gradually transcend the\nlimits of those narrow communities within which their influence was\nfirst felt and reach the circles in which that popular belief held\nsway. During the earliest successes of the theological and\nphilosophical spirit hardly a voice was raised that might have\nsuggested that the belief in the imperishability and divine nature\nof the human Soul, of the inherence of all things spiritual in one\nimperishable, fundamental substance, might become something more\nthan a mystery known to the wise and illuminated, and enter into the\nconvictions of the people and the unlearned. \"After the death of the\nbody, the Image of Life remains alive; for that alone is descended\nfrom the gods\"--such is the announcement of Pindar. But for all the\nconfidence with which, as though anticipating no contradiction, he\nhere proclaims the view of the soul's immortality and bases it upon\nits divine nature, such an opinion can at that time have been no\nmore than the persuasion of isolated communities formed and\ninstructed in that particular doctrine. It cannot be merely\naccidental,[1\\12] that in the fragments which have come down to us\nof the lyric and semi-lyric (elegiac and iambic) poetry--poetry\nintended for a wide and unspecialized public and expressing feelings\nand ideas in language that all could understand--hardly a trace\nappears of that enhanced conception of the worth and nature of the\nSoul. Reflexion does not linger over such dark subjects; whenever\nthey are illuminated for a passing moment, we discern the outlines\nof those figures from the spirit world just as the Homeric\nimagination had given them shape.\n\nLife and light are only to be found in this world;[2\\12] Death, to\nwhich we are all \"owing\",[3\\12] leads the soul into a realm of\nnothingness.[4\\12] Inarticulate, voiceless, the dead man lies in the\ngrave like a statue.[5\\12] Upon earth, and not in any shadowy\nhereafter, is completed that judgment[6\\12] which divine Justice\npasses upon the criminal himself, or upon his descendants in whom\nsomething of him still lives on. It is the lack of such descendants\nthat forms the bitterest pang, as he goes down to Hades, of the man\nwho passes childless out of this life.[7\\12] {412}\n\nMore distinctly and bitterly, in this age of advancing civilization\nand growing sensibility, sounds the wail over the pain and\naffliction of life, the obscurity of its ways, and the uncertainty\nof its outcome.[8\\12] Silenos, the prophetic wood-spirit, so went\nthe ancient legend, when captured by King Midas in his rose-gardens\nat Bermios earned his release with the judgment of melancholy wisdom\nthat the Greek was never tired of repeating in ever-varying\nforms--not to be born is the best thing for men, but having been\nborn, let him pray that he may return as soon as possible to the\nkingdom of Night,[9\\12] and of Hades.[10\\12] The cheerful enjoyment\nof life is no longer so sure of itself as once it had been in the\ndays of its na\u00efve confidence: and yet there is no substitute\nattempted, no compensatory hereafter in a next world of justice and\nuntroubled happiness. We rather hear the opinion expressed that rest\nis the greatest of all earthly blessings; and rest is brought by\nDeath. Nevertheless there is little demand for consolation; a robust\nand virile sense of life that can put up with whatever may befall of\nevil or hardship in healthy indifference, is in the air, and speaks\nto us from many a page of this poetic legacy with unpretending\nveracity. No attempt is made to smooth over the hardship and cruelty\nof life. Man's power is small, his efforts go unrewarded, one\nnecessity after another besets his short life: over all alike hangs\nthe shadow of inevitable death. All things come at last to the awful\nchasm--the bravest virtue and the highest authority in the\nworld.[11\\12] Yet life is good and death an evil; else, why do the\nblessed gods not die? asks Sappho[12\\12] with feminine naivet\u00e9;\nthough indeed, her life's path had lain through the deepest valley\nof the shadow. Even the dead man, if he wishes to be preserved from\nutter nothingness, must depend upon the world of the living as the\nonly place of reality; the fame of his virtues and his deeds is all\nthat outlasts his death.[13\\12] Perhaps some dim perception of that\nfame reaches even to the dead.[14\\12] They themselves are for the\nliving as though they had passed into nothingness; we should not,\nthinks a poet, give them another thought after we have buried\nthem.[15\\12]\n\nHere even the time-honoured conventions associated with the cult of\nsouls seem to be perversely cast aside. In general, the poet with\nhis wide-ranging observation of mankind had small occasion to be\nreminded of the cult of the soul that the narrow circles of family\nor city offered to their dead, or of the conceptions thereby\nencouraged of the continued life enjoyed by the departed. The\nomission is supplied by the Orators of the fifth and fourth\ncenturies and by what they say--and do {413} not say--of the state\nof things hereafter. The greatest period of lyric poetry was by that\ntime already fading into the past, and yet whoever wished in\nspeaking before a citizen assembly to meet with general agreement\nand understanding was still obliged to refrain from speaking of the\nblessed immortality, the eternity and divinity of the soul. The\nOrators[16\\12] never pass beyond the conceptions of the survival,\npower, and rights of the souls of the departed which were called\nforth and maintained in existence by the cult of the soul. The\ncontinued existence of the souls in the next world is not called in\nquestion; but the opinion that the souls still preserve their\nconsciousness and have any knowledge of what happens on this earth\nis only expressed with the most cautious avoidance of\ndefiniteness.[17\\12] What--apart from the sacrificial offerings of\ntheir relatives--still binds the dead to the life upon earth, is\nlittle more than the fame accorded to them among the living.[18\\12]\nEven in the elevated language of solemn funeral orations the\nconsolations offered to the survivors omit all mention of any\nenhanced state of being, any thought of immortal life in\nfully-conscious blessedness, that might belong now to the glorious\ndeparted.[19\\12] Such high visions and hopes for the future were\nstill, it appears, as little necessary or demanded for the comfort\nof the people as they had been in the times of the great wars of\nliberty.[20\\12] The beloved dead who had given their lives for their\ncountry in those wars, as well as many others of the time whom death\nhad overtaken, were the recipients of the epitaphs composed by\nSimonides the master of brilliant and condensed inscriptions.\nNevertheless, not once does he vouchsafe a word that might point\nforward to a land of blessed immortality for the departed. There is\na vestige of life still remaining for the dead--but it is in this\nworld; the memory of the living and their own great name honoured by\nafter generations is all that can prolong their existence.\n\nIt seems like an echo from another world when (about the middle of\nthe fifth century) Melanippides the dithyrambic poet addresses a god\nin the words: \"Hear me Father, marvel of all mortal men, Thou that\nrulest over the _everliving Souls_.\" The words must be addressed to\nDionysos;[21\\12] for such as entered into the magic circle of his\nnightly festival those visions of the imperishability of the human\nsoul and its divine power acquired reality. Such wisdom received but\npartial assent from those who lived unaffected by the conceptions of\nisolated sects of the theologically or philosophically minded. {414}\n\n\u00a7 2\n\nA peculiar position is taken up by Pindar. Two contrasted views of\nthe nature, origin, and destiny of the soul seem to be combined in\nhis mind with equal claim to authority.\n\nIn the Victory Odes allusions predominate which imply an agreement\nwith the popular view expressed in the sayings of poets and the\npresuppositions of the cult of souls and the worship of Heroes.\nAfter its separation from the body, the soul disappears into the\nunderworld.[22\\12] The piety and affectionate memory of relatives\nand descendants remains as a link between the dead and the\nliving;[23\\12] whether the soul itself is still conscious of any\nconnexion with the world of the living seems uncertain.[24\\12] Its\npower is over and done with--it is certainly no condition of blessed\nhappiness into which it has entered. Only the glorious name, the\nfame that is honoured in song, rewards the great deeds of the\nvirtuous after death.[25\\12]\n\nAn exalted state of being, after their departure from this earth, is\nattributed to the _Heroes_ alone. The belief in the existence,\nimportance, and power of these illuminated spirits holds complete\nsway;[26\\12] it emerges in lively reality from the words and\nnarrations of the poet throughout all his work. Moreover, the\nancient conception--in reality rendered untenable by the belief in\nHeroes--that only with the undivided union of body and soul is\ncomplete life imaginable, is discernible in many allusions and\nstories of Translation that imply that conception. Amphiaraos, the\nmost illustrious of those who have been translated to everlasting\nlife, is specially dear to the heart of the Theban poet, and is\nglorified more than once in the language of unaffected faith in such\nmiracles.[27\\12] But, further, even when death has occurred in the\nmeantime, elevation to a higher life remains possible--even beyond\nthe heights of the \"Hero\". Semele lives for ever, though she died\nunder the crash of the thunder-bolt.[28\\12] The barrier between men\nand gods is not insuperable; we can distantly approach the immortals\nnot only in greatness of mind, but in bodily vigour.[29\\12] One\nmother gave birth to both races, though the gulf between them is\nindeed a deep one; man is nought--a shadow's dream-image; for the\ngods the brazen heavens remain for ever as an unconquerable\nstronghold.[30\\12] Only a miracle of divine interference with the\nlawful and normal course of nature, can raise the individual soul to\nthe everlasting life of the gods and Heroes.\n\nSuch visions as these could be indulged in by one who still {415}\nkept his feet firmly fixed upon the ground of popular belief. And\nyet side by side with them in Pindar's works are to be found\ndescriptions of quite another order in which is expressed, with\nelaborate fullness and dogmatic exactitude, a complete doctrine of\nthe nature, destiny, and fate of the soul; passages in which, in\nspite of some little poetic licence in detail, a well ordered and,\nin the main, consistent whole is pictured.\n\nThe Soul, the \"Image of Life\", the other Self of the living and\nvisible man, sleeps while the limbs of man are active; when the\nindividual is asleep it shows him dream-visions of the\nfuture.[31\\12] This psyche[32\\12] which during the waking and\nconscious hours of the man is itself lying in the darkness of\nunconsciousness, is far from being the totality of mental powers\ngathered together in a single creature, or at any rate, in a single\nconcept, such as the philosophers as well as the everyday use of the\nword at that period understood by the name \"psyche\". Here, again,\nthe name once more denotes the double of mankind dwelling within the\nliving man such as it was known to primeval popular belief and to\nthe Homeric poems. A theological meaning has, however, been added to\nit. This \"Image\" of man, we are told, \"is alone descended from the\ngods,\" and with this the _reason_ also is discovered why the\nsoul-image alone after the destruction of the body by death remains\nalive.[33\\12]\n\nDerived from the gods and therefore eternally exempt from\ndestruction, everlasting and immortal, the soul is none the less\ncondemned to finiteness; it dwells within the mortal body of man.\nThis is the result of the \"ancient guilt\" of which, quite in the\nmanner of theological poetry, Pindar also speaks.[34\\12] After the\ndeath of the body it is to await in Hades the stern sentence that\n\"One\" shall pronounce over its earthly deeds.[35\\12] For the\ncondemned there is in store \"affliction past beholding\"[36\\12] in\ndeep Tartaros, \"where the slow rivers of murky night spit out\nendless darkness,\" and forgetfulness encloses the victims.[37\\12]\nThe just enter into the subterranean places of bliss where the sun\ngives them light when he has set upon earth.[38\\12] In flowery\nmeadows they enjoy an existence of resplendent idleness, such as\nonly the Greek imagination, nourished amid the artistic surroundings\nof Greek life, could describe without falling into emptiness and\nfutility.\n\nBut the soul has not even so found its last resting place. It must\nagain give life to a body and not until it has completed upon earth\na third faultless life can it hope for an end of its earthly course\nof being.[39\\12] The conditions of each new life {416} upon earth\ndepend upon the degree of purity that the soul has achieved in its\nprevious lifetimes. When at last the Queen of the Underworld\nconsiders that its \"ancient guilt\" has been atoned for, she sends\nforth the souls after the ninth year[40\\12] of their last sojourn in\nHades once more to live in the upper world, this time in happiness.\nHere they pass through one more lifetime as kings, mighty men of\nvalour, and Wise Men.[41\\12] Then at last they escape from the\nnecessity of earthly rebirth. As \"Heroes\" they are honoured among\nmen;[42\\12] and they have therefore entered into a state of higher\nbeing which the popular belief of Pindar's time ascribed not only to\nthe souls of the great ancestral figures of the past, but also to\nmany who had departed hence in more recent times after a life of\nvalour and service.[43\\12] Now they are beyond the reach of Hades as\nmuch as of the world of men. Faith seeks them in \"Islands of the\nBlest\" far out in Okeanos; thither, to the \"Citadel of Kronos\" they\ntravel on the \"Way of Zeus\"[44\\12] and enjoy, in company with the\ngreat ones of the past, under the protection of Kronos[45\\12] and\nhis assessor Rhadamanthys, a life of bliss for ever undisturbed.\n\nSuch conceptions of the origin, fortunes, and ultimate destiny of\nthe soul, the more they diverge from commonly held opinions, the\nmore certainly must they be regarded as being part of the private\nand real persuasion of the poet himself. The poet, who on other\noccasions when he makes passing and casual reference to the things\nof the next world accommodates himself to the traditional view,\ngives himself up willingly to such hopes and aspirations where the\ncircumstances of his song provided an opportunity of dealing at\nlength with such matters--especially in hymns of mourning for the\ndead. He may have paid attention in such poems to the special\nopinions of those who were to be the first hearers of his song.\nTheron, the ruler of Akragas, to whom was dedicated the second\nOlympian Ode of Victory that deals so fully with the hope of bliss\nto come, was an old man whose thoughts might well be occupied with\nthe life after death.[46\\12] In this case, therefore, we may presume\nperhaps the special interest of the person whose praises are sung in\nthese reflections that lead so far away from the commonly accepted\nview of the Soul.[47\\12] But that Pindar, proud and self-willed,\nconscious of specific knowledge and proud of that consciousness,\nshould have given expression to strange doctrine so foreign to\npopular ideas simply out of complaisance to another's will, and in\n**subservience to another man's belief--that is quite unthinkable.\nIt is rather the substance of what he believes himself {417} and has\nachieved by his own struggles that in a solemn hour he reveals for a\nmoment to like-minded friends.\n\nThe different elements out of which Pindar has composed his special\nview are not hard to distinguish. He is following theological\ndoctrine in what he tells of the divine origin of the soul, its\nwanderings through several bodies, the judgment in Hades, the\nspecial place assigned to the just, and that of the wicked. But it\nis layman's theology that he is propounding; it does not bind itself\nto a single unalterable formula, and betrays throughout that its\nexponent is a poet. Pindar, throughout the whole of his poetic\nactivity, combines the office of singer with that of professional\nteacher, more especially where he has to speak of the things of an\ninvisible divine world. But for all his didactic professionalism he\nremains the poet, for whom as depository and trustee of the Myth it\nis out of the question to abandon the traditional, whether in legend\nor belief. His task is to keep pure what has been handed down to\nhim, to make it more profound, perhaps to supplement and complete\nit, but with all this to justify it. Thus, poetic legend and popular\nbelief enter even into his theologian's doctrine of the Soul; the\nIslands of the Blest, the elevation of man to Hero--these were\nthings he could not give up.\n\nFrom what particular direction Pindar's theological interests may\nhave come to him we cannot say with precision or certainty. Orphic\nas well as Pythagorean doctrines may have come to his notice in\nSicily whither he made repeated visits after 477 B.C.[48\\12] For\nboth sects this country was the original nursery and breeding\nground.\n\nThere, too, the poet may perhaps have (even at that date) met with\ncertain varieties of the Orphic mystical doctrine which, like his\nown views, were intermingled with elements taken from conventional\nmythology. Examples of this type of Orphic mysticism allied with\nforeign elements are the verses which, inscribed upon gold tablets,\nwere found not long ago in graves near the ancient Sybaris.[49\\12]\nThree of these poems begin with phrases that are common to them all,\nand imply the same underlying conceptions; after that they part\ncompany and represent two different views. The soul of the dead\nperson[50\\12] thus addresses itself to the Queen of the lower world,\nand the other gods of the depths below: \"I draw near to you purified\nand born of pure parents.\"[51\\12] It belongs then to a mortal who,\nlike his parents before him, has been \"purified\" in the sacred\nmysteries of a religious association.[52\\12] It claims also to be\ndescended from the blessed race of the deities of the lower {418}\nworld.[53\\12] \"Lightning robbed me of life,\" so one of the versions\ngoes on,[54\\12] \"and so I escaped from the Circle, the burdensome,\nthe grievous\". In these words purely Orphic belief is expressed: the\nSoul has now at last escaped entirely from the \"Circle of\nBirths\",[55\\12] and it enters as it tells us \"with speedy feet into\nthe wished-for precinct\",[56\\12] and buries itself in the bosom of\nthe Queen of the Underworld.[57\\12] It is the latter, probably, who\nat the end greets the liberated soul with the words: \"Fortunate and\nto be called Blessed art thou; now shalt thou be, instead of a\nmortal--_a god_.\"\n\nMuch less exalted are the hopes expressed in the other two versions\nof the mystic document--two versions that resemble each other in\nmost essentials. Here the soul asserts that it has done penance for\nunrighteous deeds; now it appears before the revered Persephoneia to\nimplore her graciously to send it to the dwelling places of the pure\nand the holy.[58\\12]\n\nHow are we to explain the discrepancy? It would indeed be possible\nto explain the more restrained version as that of a sect whose\nmembers were less confident of their own divine origin and of the\nnecessary return of the soul at last to its enfranchised divine\nstate. It is much more probable, however--since in fact the\npresupposition of the divine nature of the soul and its kinship with\nthe divine is really made in both cases and with the same\nwords--that we here have to do with the beliefs of one and the same\nsect, and that the varying heights of felicity aspired to correspond\nto different stages of the process of redemption. He who through\nparticipation in the sacred mysteries has atoned for the ancient\nguilt, can be admitted by the goddess into the paradise of the blest\nin the midst of Hades. But he must still, in subsequent rebirths\nupon earth first complete the cycle before he can be fully released\nfrom rebirth and become once more what he was at the beginning,\nentirely a god. The dead man of the first tablet has reached the\nfinal goal of his pilgrimage; the other two have only reached an\nintermediate resting place.[59\\12] Another inscription, found in a\ngrave of the same neighbourhood,[60\\12] by its use of a mystic\nformula[61\\12] appended also to the first version of the\nabove-mentioned poems, reveals itself as an expression of faith\nderiving from the same sect. Among a variety of disconnected\ninstructions and appeals to the dead,[62\\12] strung together with no\nparticular arrangement, it contains the following statement: \"a\n_god_ hast thou become instead of a mortal\", This then always\nremained the crowning point of the salvation promised by the sect.\n{419}\n\nIn the cult and beliefs of this sect which thus with divided voice\nspeaks to us in these verses, the worship of the ancient Greek\ndivinities of the Underworld (among whom Dionysos is not this time\nincluded) was fused with the boldest conception belonging to the\nDionysiac mysteries: the confident assurance that the divine nature\nof the soul must in the end break through, purified and triumphant\nover the earthliness that obscured it. Pindar in another, but not\nvery different, way has brought the same elements into conjunction.\nOne would indeed like to be able to estimate the influence which his\ndoctrine, which lay so close to his own heart, may have exercised on\nthe hearers and readers of his poems. He was at once something more\nand something less than a theological teacher. Never again among the\nGreeks did the blessed life of the sanctified soul receive such\nmajestic expression, clothed in such ample and resplendent diction,\nas that which poured so freely from the heart of this richly gifted\npoet. But though the poet may have touched the heart of his hearer\nand tempted his imagination to stray along the path laid out for\nhim, yet it cannot have been easy (and perhaps the greatness of the\npoet's triumph almost made it harder) permanently to mistake the\nmagic gleam of poetry for the sunlight of reality. One may doubt\nwhether the poems in which Pindar recounted his dreams of future\nblessedness can have found many hearers in whom they awakened not\nmerely \u00e6sthetic satisfaction, but belief in the literal truth of the\nteaching, in the reality of those beautiful, dim, haloed figures.\n\n\u00a7 3\n\nBut perhaps by the expression of such doubts we do less than justice\nto the influence which a Greek poet might exercise upon the minds\nand dispositions of his hearers. Greek popular opinion was very much\ninclined to place the poet on a pedestal to which his modern\nrepresentative would hardly care to aspire, and to which at any rate\nhe could never attain. The purely artistic value and importance of a\npoem did not seem to be impaired by the demand that it should at the\nsame time instruct and edify. The poet was to be the teacher of his\npeople in an age when, in the conditions of Greek life, the people\nhad no other instructor. He was to be a teacher in the highest sense\nof all when, speaking in the language of the most exalted poetry, he\ndealt with the doubts and certainties of religion and the\nrelationship between religion and morality. In these matters he\ncould supplement out of the wealth of {420} his own far-reaching\nreflection what was lacking in the public morality of the time\nthrough the absence of an official, authoritative religious Book. By\ngiving them intelligible and memorable expression, together with\ngreater cohesion and unity, he could strengthen the foundations of\nthe common stock of moral ideas that had been evolved in the course\nof social and city life. He might also expand and give greater depth\nto the ideas of popular morality, tempering them in the fire of his\nown more rigorous thought and interpreting and refining them from\nthe heights of a more elevated understanding of the divine. What he\nthus gave back to the people stamped with the impress of his own\nvery personal temperament and outlook, no longer remained the casual\nopinion of a single individual, but took root in suitably\nconstituted minds and became for many a valued possession, an\nenduring addition to their consciousness.\n\nIt was not until the rise in later times of a fully developed\nphilosophy extending its range of interpretation to the whole of\nlife that poetry was deprived of its special office of instructress\nto the aspiring minds among the people.[63\\12] Poetry had always\nbeen willing to exercise this function, but never so decidedly or\nwith such fully conscious purpose as in the times of transition at\nthe beginning of which Pindar lived--the transition from an\nunsophisticated faith in the traditional view of all things visible\nand invisible to a fresh stabilization of belief secured by, and\nresting upon, philosophic conviction. The need felt for the\nreadjustment or verification of the ancestral or traditional forms\nof belief was vividly awakened, and it was still only poetry that\ncould extend the light of its teaching to illuminate the minds of\nwhole classes of the population. The influence of the poets must\nhave increased in proportion as the numbers increased of those who\nwere ready to receive the special bounty which they were able to\noffer. But if the influence wielded by Pindar, the Pan-Hellenic poet\nof the great Festivals, as the teacher of his people was, as we have\nseen, considerable, a very wide field indeed for the propagation of\nfruitful ideas lay open to the Attic tragedians in the huge\nconcourse of the people which flocked together to hear their\ncreations--a multitude which seemed all the greater for being\nconfined within a narrower space. The poets themselves frequently\nallow it to be seen how seriously they regarded themselves as the\nteachers of their public, and the people admitted their claims. All\nmen expected and demanded instruction from the word of the poet--the\nhighest instruction from the highest poetry.[64\\12] We shall not be\nmuch mistaken {421} if we believe that the opinions and reflections\nto which Aeschylus, Sophokles, and not least Euripides, gave\nutterance in their tragic drama did not remain the sole property of\nthose in whose minds they had first arisen.\n\n\u00a7 4\n\nThe Attic Tragedy of the fifth century must of its own accord, even\nif the conscious purpose of the dramatists had not tended in the\nsame direction, have developed into an artistic product based on\npsychological interest. The real theatre of that drama must\ninevitably have become the interior of its hero's mind.\n\nThe tragic poet attempted something hitherto unknown. The characters\nand events of ancient legend or history which had passed shadowlike\nbefore the minds of the hearers or readers of all earlier poetry, at\nthe mercy of those hearers' own private and variously limited\nimagination--these same events and characters were now to take form\nand body and appear visibly before the eyes of all beholders alike\nin equal clearness. What had hitherto seemed a dream-vision of the\nimagination now visibly presented itself to the eyes of the\nbeholder, unchanging, precise, independent of the limitations of\nintellect among the audience, a concrete and self-moving object of\nwaking perception. Thus reawakened to a palpable and fully realized\nlife, the myth was seen in a new light. What in it was mere incident\nbecame subordinated to the personality of the man who plays his part\nin these events before our eyes, and whose importance and content is\nnot exhausted in the single particular action. The old legend in\nbecoming drama has undergone an extension both spatial and temporal,\nand even in externals the plot that unfolds itself in a series of\nmomentary acts plays the least part in the story. The speeches and\ncounter-speeches of the hero and the other actors who take part in\nthe story were bound to take up the greater part of the time.\nMotives of action, expressed, debated and fought out in words,\nbecome more important than their eventual outcome in passionate deed\nor mortal woe. With the advance of artistic skill the intellect\nseeks to grasp the permanent outlines of the character that in the\ngiven circumstances can be moved by particular motives to particular\nacts. Thus, the complete materialization of the myth leads to its\ncomplete spiritualization. The eyes and mind of the beholder are\ndirected less to the external events--these, being familiar from the\nancient legend, could {422} awaken little curiosity--and more to the\ninward meaning and import of what the hero does and suffers.\n\nAnd it was here that the dramatic poet was faced with his special\nand peculiar problem. What was to happen in his drama was settled\nout of hand by the course of the ancient legend (in a few cases by\nthe course of historical events) and the lines along which his\ninvention must move were planned out for him in advance. To give\nlife to the personages of the drama, motivation and justification to\nthe events of the drama--that was his particular business. But in\nthis he was thrown entirely upon his own resources. Even if he could\nhe was not permitted to derive the inner motive forces of the action\nfrom the real modes of feeling and thinking that had belonged to the\ndistant past in which the myth had first been conceived. Such\nmotives would have remained unintelligible to the audience, and his\nplay would have been stillborn. But on the other hand, how was he to\nmake plausible and intelligible to the vastly different mentality\nand changed feelings of the age in which he lived actions which\nreally sprang from the habits and moral ideas of a long since\nvanished age? It is open to him (if he is not content to be a mere\nannalist simply stringing together bare events) to take the actual\nincident given him by the mythical legend and set over against it\nthe actor in the story whose emotions are those of a modern man, and\nupon whose shoulders the burden of the event is laid; he may\nrepresent this opposition as beyond reconciliation, and so lead to\nthe most simple and overwhelming of tragic conflicts. This simple\nopposition of character and destiny which places both the poet and\nhis hero--another Hamlet--in a position of direct hostility to the\nmythological background can, however, never become the rule. It is\nthe business of the poet as far as possible to assimilate and make\nhis own the spirit that actually called forth the dark and cruel\nlegend of the past, while yet remaining true to the mode of\nperception proper to his own time. He must manage to leave\nundisturbed the full primitive sense of the mythical story and bring\nit about that by its marriage with the spirit of a later age its\nmeaning is not destroyed but deepened. He is committed to the search\nfor an adjustment between the mental attitudes of an older and a\nnewer age.\n\nSuch an adjustment came most easily to Aeschylus and satisfied the\nneeds of his temperament. As one who had grown to manhood in the\nAthens of the period before the Persian wars his own character had\nits roots in ancient and traditional modes of thought. These he\nbuilt up under the guiding {423} influence of his own special ways\nof thinking and feeling into a new and loftier whole: to corroborate\nthis whole, which appeared to him as a law of the moral world, by\nreference to typical examples taken from mythology--examples chosen\nby him with deliberate care to serve as subjects of his dramatic\npoetry--this was one of the chief aims of his art. To the plot in\nits moral--nay, its religious--sense, all his thoughts are directed;\nthe characters of the actors themselves are only illuminated from\nthe standpoint of this special interest; their wider, independent\nexistence outside the life of the drama which completely **envelops\nthem is not meant to draw attention to itself. He himself gives us\nthe right, in studying his plays, to leave out of sight for a moment\nthe representational aspect of the particular and the personal--all\nthat in fact makes them essentially works of art--in order to\nobserve more closely the under-current of generalized belief which\nwe may reasonably call the ethic and theology of the poet.\n\nBehind the living tissue of his artistic creation Aeschylus allows\nus to perceive pretty clearly the firm outlines of his own ethical\nand religious convictions. He fuses together elements prescribed to\nhim from without with that which was dictated by his own spirit.\nWhat is prescribed to him by legend--which he allows to run its full\ncourse, in strictly dramatic form and by preference as a trilogy, a\nform in this case uniquely adapted to the subject--is a history that\ndeals with the continued operation of the forces of evil and\nsuffering upon several generations of a family, persisting from\nfather to son and from son to son's son. The belief also in such\ninterconnexion of human destinies is prescribed to him from without.\nThat the sins of the ancestors were visited upon their descendants\nhere upon earth was an ancient article of faith especially strong in\nAttica.[65\\12] What Aeschylus contributes on his part is the\nunswerving conviction that the son and grandson of the sinner are\npunished for their _own_ sin too. Suffering is punishment,[66\\12]\nand suffering would not have overtaken Oedipus, nor the sons of\nOedipus, if La\u00efos had been the only guilty one--if their own sin had\nnot deserved punishment.\n\nAnd yet it does not lie within their power to choose whether the\nguilt shall be theirs or not: they cannot escape the deed of sin.\nHow, we may ask, can a guilty deed be necessitated, imposed upon the\nguilty one by the decree of a higher power, and yet at the same time\nthe _fault_ of the doer of the deed, as though he had acted of his\nown free will? {424} The question is a perplexing and a formidable\none, and it was by no means unnoticed by the poet. Behind the\nexternal apparatus of myth he finds himself faced by the problem of\nthe freedom or determination of man's will, which, as civilization\nand culture advance, feels itself morally responsible for every\ndecision. He finds a way out of the difficulty in the view that it\nis not merely the deed of wickedness itself, but the conscious\ndecision that leads up to the deed that arises out of the family\ninheritance of crime. The conscious choice and decision, though\nregarded as necessary, seemed to demonstrate fully the personal\nguilt and responsibility of the doer.[67\\12] The cloud of evil that\nproceeds from the deed of the ancestor casts a dark shadow also over\nthe minds of his son and his son's son. Not from his own mind or\ncharacter does the will to do wrong take its origin. The noble, pure\nand resolute Eteokles, the model of intelligent manhood, the shield\nand protection of his people, falls in a moment, a victim to ominous\ndestiny; his clear-sighted spirit is darkened, he gives himself\nup--his better self--for lost,[68\\12] and rushes upon his doom with\nawful resolve. The \"sins derived from his ancestors\"[69\\12] drive\nhim on. Then, and not till then, is the full measure of penance at\nlast paid for the crime done by the ancestor;[70\\12] his descendants\nare his representatives, and become guilty on his behalf and then,\nfor their own guilt as well as his, they suffer retribution.\nDivinity, or a spirit of vengeance sent with a divine mission,\ndrives the victims burdened with the inheritance of crime to the\ncriminal deed. The divine guidance is actuated no longer, as in\nancient and undying popular belief, by personal desire of vengeance,\nanger or malice,[71\\12] but by divine justice, acting with \"just\ndeceit\",[72\\12] that the measure of guilt may be fulfilled, and that\nthe divine will to justice may have a means to complete\nsatisfaction. The evil Spirit of the House assists Klytaimnestra to\nconceive the thought of murdering her husband;[73\\12] God himself\nguides and urges forward Orestes to the act of matricide which he\nplans and carries out with fully conscious purpose--a crime that is\nalso a duty. To the poet the old ideas of the duty of avenging\nmurder are a very living reality. The right to worship and cult\npossessed by the souls, their claim to vengeance when they have been\nviolently done to death, their ghostly influence exerted upon the\nlife and destinies of their immediate kinsfolk upon whom the duty of\ntaking vengeance rests--all these things are for him not the\nobsolete fancies of an older generation but true and awful\nrealities.[74\\12] Whole dramas, the **Choephoroi and the Eumenides,\nfor {425} instance, would appear as a meaningless beating of the air\nif they were not animated and made significant by unaltered faith in\nthe right and the might of the souls, the reality and potency of the\ndaimonic counsel, the Erinyes,[75\\12] who appear on behalf of the\nmurdered mother. And now at last light breaks through the dark and\nclouded sky of awful imagination: where Duty and Crime have become\ninextricably confused, divine grace, though yielding nothing of its\nrights, finds at last a solution.\n\nAll these things, however--conflict and solution, crime and its\nexpiation in ever-renewed crime and the suffering that arises\nthence--fulfil themselves in _this_ world. Guilt is avenged always\nupon earth. The \"other\" world is by no means an indispensable link\nin this chain of conceptions and fancies; the poet's view is rarely\nturned in that direction. Speculation upon the state of the soul\nafter death, upon a blessed life in the kingdom of the\nspirits,[76\\12] does not interest him. Only such portions of the\neschatological imaginings of the theologians as might serve the\npurposes of moral inspiration or support, found favour with the\npoet. There are occasional allusions to the judgment that, in Hades,\n\"another Zeus\" holds over the deeds of earthly life,[77\\12] but they\nremain dark and vague. It is not explained in what relation this\njudgment in Hades stands to the complete equivalence of guilt and\ndestiny that, here upon earth, Zeus and Moira bring to completion in\nthe person of the criminal himself and, after his death, of his\ndescendants. Side by side with the allusions to the judgment in the\nunderworld implying the complete consciousness of the dead, stand\nexpressions that call up a picture of the senseless, twilight\nexistence of the souls in Hades like that described in Homer.[78\\12]\nThe poet, to whom every feature of the beliefs derived from the cult\nof the souls about the relations of the departed to the life of the\ndwellers on earth was intensely and vividly real, never cared to fix\nhis attention for long upon the nature and condition of the dead in\ntheir separate other-world existence. In fact his chosen work of\ngiving a moral significance and deeper meaning to popular and\nancient faith was wholly derived from this faith itself; and so also\nwas the lofty and consistent idea of divinity which fills the\nbackground of his picture of life. The generation which had fought\nat Marathon, in spite of a profounder and even more sombre\nmeditation upon life and destiny, could still dispense almost\nentirely with the assistance of the theological doctrines of the\nsects who sought refuge from the dark and austere {426} realities of\nthis unsatisfying world in thoughts of an imagined hereafter.\n\n\u00a7 5\n\nTowards the great problems of dramatic philosophy--the problems of\nthe freedom or compulsion of the will, the guilt and destiny of\nman--Sophokles took up a position that differed essentially from\nthat of his great predecessor. A maturer and calmer self-abandonment\nto the observation of life and its difficulties made him less able\nto rest content with simple or sweeping solutions of the\ncomplexities; made him seek out other and more various modes of\nunderstanding. The individual man, stamped with the unique\nimpression of his peculiar being, with him becomes more fully\ndetached from the background of omnipotent might and universal law.\nThe individual finds within himself the rules of his behaviour, the\ncauses of his success, or his tragic failure. No petty, egotistical\nmotive inspires the action of Antigone or Elektra: they are obedient\nto the old, unwritten laws of the gods. But the force that leads\nthem to obey is derived solely from the special fashion and impulse\nof their own hearts. No one else could do what they do, suffer what\nthey suffer. We realize the necessity and justification of what they\ndo and suffer solely from the contemplation of the strength and\nweakness of their own characters as displayed for us in the action\nthat takes place upon the stage. Indeed, the length to which\nSophokles, in the \"Elektra\", goes in the suppression of such\nuniversally recognized and binding motives as those derived from the\nduty of vengeance and the rights of injured souls, may well cause\nsurprise. The special and individual case must for him carry its own\njustification within itself, and in fact it receives such\njustification so completely from the character and behaviour of the\nactors in the drama that, unlike the hero of Aeschylus' tragedy,\nOrestes needs to have no qualm of doubt in the performance of his\ndeed, and suffers no remorse after the murder of the wicked\nmurderess. Once again as in the Homeric story, with Orestes'\n\"righteous deed of blood\",[79\\12] the circle of calamity is\ncomplete: no Erinys rises from the earth to demand his\noverthrow.[80\\12]\n\nSo, too, when the suffering and calamity that befalls the mortal\nhero comes not from his own conscious decision and exercise of will,\nbut from obscure decrees of fate it is still the special character\nof the hero which not only demands the greater part of our\nattention, but entirely conditions and sufficiently explains the\ncourse of events. The same {427} misfortune might overtake another\nman, but neither its inward nor its outward effects would be the\nsame as they are for Oedipus or Aias. Only tragically extreme\ncharacters can have a tragic fate.\n\nAnd yet, in these as in other tragedies, what gives the first\nimpulse and direction to the course of the story does not arise from\nthe will or character of their heroes. The mind of Aias is not free\nbut subject when he performs the deed that sends him to his death.\nOedipus, Deianeira take vengeance upon themselves for the deeds of\nhorror that they have brought about without knowing what they did.\nNotwithstanding the fact that the interest of the \"Philoktetes\"\ncentres so completely round the vividly contrasted characters of\nPhiloktetes, Neoptolemos, and Odysseus, yet the situation which\nbrings them into opposition is one which it was beyond the power or\nthe purpose of man to bring about or to hinder. An obscure destiny\nplunges man into suffering, drives him to actions in the face of\nwhich easy and ready-made judgments about \"guilt\" and the relation\nbetween suffering and desert are silenced. It is not inherited\nfamily crime that here forces the son and the grandson to deeds that\ncan hardly be called their own. The poet, it is true, knows of these\nconceptions[81\\12] that play so large a part in the poetry of\nAeschylus, but they are mere historical tradition to him, not vital\nmotives of his drama. Nor is it mere irrational chance, or\nimpersonal fate working by necessity and without passion that\ndirects the mind and guides the hand of the actor in his bondage.\nClearly or obscurely moving about in the background of events the\nwill of a divine power can be discerned that, inevitable as\nfate,[82\\12] guides the deeds and the fate of men in accordance with\nits own purpose.\n\nThe divine purpose brings to maturity a plan in which the individual\nman and his destiny are mere instruments. To make plain the\npremeditated character of this purposeful direction of human affairs\nis the object of the prophetic anticipations of the future, the\ndivine oracles and prophecies of seers of which we hear so much in\nthe plays. If this divine purpose should involve the fatal act, the\nundeserved suffering of the individual, then that purpose will be\nfulfilled though human happiness may be destroyed in the process,\nand though pain, crime, agony, and violent death may overwhelm the\nmortal individual. The well-being of the individual does not enter\ninto the question where the intentions of a divinity that sees far\nbeyond this puny existence are concerned. An honest, simple-minded,\ngood-hearted man, without {428} deceit or fault, like Philoktetes,\nis abandoned for many long years to every kind of suffering in order\nthat he may not interfere prematurely in the development of the war\nagainst Troy with the magic weapons that are in his\npossession.[83\\12] He is an involuntary martyr for the good of the\nwhole community. In order that Herakles may be released from this\nlife at the precise moment of time that has been fixed by divine\nforeknowledge,[84\\12] Deianeira, the most devoted and womanly\ncharacter in the whole of the Attic drama, must out of the goodness\nof her heart and the love she bears to her husband send him to the\nmost awful of deaths and then perish herself. Simply because such is\nthe will of heaven[85\\12] must Oedipus, unknowing and blameless,\nslay his father, marry his mother, and plunge himself into the\ndeepest depth of misery.\n\nThus, out of the darkness, the hand of divine superiority guides the\ndestinies of humanity, the will and behaviour of men, according to\nits own purposes. The problematical in human life, the disparity\nbetween personal guilt and personal suffering, which daily\nexperience brings before our eyes, seemed to the poet to be rendered\nmore intelligible by this conception. He preaches dutiful submission\nto these dispensations of a higher power. He himself is one of the\npious, in the specific sense of the word,[86\\12] for whom to\nperceive the will of the gods is sufficient to call forth adoration\nof the gods; who feel no need that this mighty will should justify\nitself to human ideas of morality and goodness.[87\\12] It may be\nright to call this will a holy will; but there is no need for it to\nprove itself such at the bar of human judgment. Nor does such piety\nfind itself disturbed in its worship when, in order to assert the\ndivine prerogative over humanity (whose first duty it is to\nrecognize the limits of what is allowed and possible for it), divine\ninhumanity and cold lust of vengeance manifest themselves so clearly\nas in the Athene of the \"Ajax\".[88\\12] It gives the measure of the\npeculiar and unique character of Sophoklean art and the Sophoklean\nattitude to life--a quite personal character not to be explained on\nabstract grounds--that this attitude of awed submissiveness in\nmatters of religion could exist side by side with the strong\nappreciation and justification of the unfettered action of free\nindividuality. Rarely--only once or twice in the plays--is a cry of\npain wrested from the lips of one of these uncomplaining victims of\na purpose not their own.[89\\12] As a rule, the eye shuns to behold,\nthe judgment to criticize, the ultimate reasons of divine action. It\nis partly artistic restraint no doubt, but religious discretion,\ntoo, makes the poet leave {429} such things in\nsemi-obscurity.[90\\12] The majesty of divine power remains for the\nmost part in the background and does not mingle familiarly with men\nor too notoriously interfere with human destiny.[91\\12]\n\nBut the individual who with his sufferings must serve a purpose that\nis not his own, Humanity that lives under such bitter laws--what\nelevating and consoling thoughts are awakened by the contemplation\nof their fate. The poet employs all the resources of his\noverwhelming art to secure the profoundest sympathies of his hearers\nfor the undeserved sufferings of the victim, for the delusions of\nwell-intentioned but limited vision that must always stray from the\ngoal at which it aims. The moral of the play is not lost even on the\nsufferer's foe as he beholds the error and guilt of the noble but\nmisguided heart.[92\\12] What thus overwhelms the strong and the\nwise, the good and the well-meaning, through no fault of their own,\nmay descend upon any member of the human family. Thus the destinies\nof men are allotted. The lament over the vanity and the sorrow of\nlife, its brief happiness, and the uncertainty of its joy, is poured\nforth in memorable lines.[93\\12] They end on a note of resignation\nwhich gives the keynote of the poet's own character; but there is a\nbitterness which remains behind.\n\nIt might have been supposed that one who thus abandoned all attempt\nto reconcile the worth and actions of men with their fate upon\nearth, would feel all the more need, for his own satisfaction and\nthat of others, to prove the existence of a divine justice that\nshould restore the balance in a future state of being. But the poet\nshows little sign of any such need. Thoughts of what may happen\nafter death are never of very great moment to him. They never\ndistinctly affect the behaviour of those whose deeds or suffering\nfill his plays.[94\\12]\n\nWhen, however, light is thrown for a passing moment on the unknown\nland beyond the grave the scene that imagination reveals hardly\ndiffers at all from the picture that had once been present to the\nminds of the Homeric singers. The place that is in store for the\ndeparted is Hades,[95\\12] the unlovely country of the dead,[96\\12]\nwhither the Soul flits powerless, shadowlike, little more than a\nnothing,[97\\12] feeling no joy but no pain either;[98\\12] where it\nenters upon a state of insensibility that the grief-stricken\nsufferer on earth often longs for as a much-desired haven of\nrest.[99\\12] Plouton, Persephone, all the deities of the earth\nbelow,[100\\12] there rule over the departed. But it is not grace nor\nkindliness that prevails there--only Justice: Hades demands equal\njustice for all.[101\\12] {430} Pious veneration of the gods\ncontinues also in the other world,[102\\12] and for the rest we hear\nnothing of either reward or punishment or of a final supplementing\nin the land of the Souls of the inadequacy of the justice that\nfulfils itself on earth.\n\nBut though departed into Hades the dead have still a claim upon the\nupper world and on those who still are living there. Together with\nthe Homeric picture of the lower world is united the cult of the\nsouls and the ideas, connected with that cult, of the continued life\nof the dead. The next of kin owe to the departed the ceremonious\nburial that is the first expression of their pious solicitude for\nhis soul's welfare.[103\\12] In two plays the \"Ajax\" and the\n\"Antigone\", the love and loyalty of the survivors is obliged to\nfight for this right of the dead in desperate encounter with earthly\nauthority and even with the sacrifice of their own devoted lives.\nSuch instances serve to bring out clearly the fact that it is no\nempty convention or tradition that is thus defended and carried\nthrough to the end. Nor does the completion of the burial mark the\nend of the dead man's relations with the upper world: even after\nthat he may be benefited by offerings made at his grave.[104\\12]\nInformation of what happens on earth may penetrate to the\ndead;[105\\12] and he himself, under the protection of the underworld\nspirits and of their assessor Dik\u00ea, who take cognizance of his\nclaims,[106\\12] may interfere in the affairs of the living as a\n\"Curse-spirit\" upon those who disregard his wishes,[107\\12] by\nsending threatening dream-visions upon his foes,[108\\12] and as a\nvery present help and unseen ally to his friends in their hour of\nneed.[109\\12]\n\nAs to an eternity of bliss awaiting the soul, the god in man, after\nits final release from the shackles of the body, the poet knows as\nlittle of such as he does of an eternity of damnation for the\nwicked. Only the quite special state of grace which is enjoyed by\nthose who have been purified in the mysteries of the goddesses at\nEleusis receives mention by him[110\\12]: he is frequently disposed\nto think of this supreme expression of Attic worship with patriotic\npride.[111\\12] But it is only a minority of the good who thus\nachieve by the grace of the goddesses a privileged \"life\" in the\nkingdom of shadows. One and only one is lifted by the divine grace\nclear of the human fate of annihilation, and in the Grove of the\nErinyes the sorely-tried Oedipus is translated without seeing death\nout of this earthly life.[112\\12] So living a reality to this poet\nof ancient piety is the conviction that the divine miracle of\ntranslation[113\\12] is a literal truth, that he is even ready {431}\nto make this strange circumstance serve as the sole aim and purpose\nof a whole drama: a miracle which all the other scenes serve not so\nmuch to prepare as simply to postpone, and thus heighten the\nexpectancy with which the event is awaited. It is not supreme virtue\nthat secures an immortality for Oedipus which others also who showed\nan equal degree of goodness might possibly attain. He reveals\nhimself to us as an innocent sufferer indeed,[114\\12] but also as\nobdurate in his rash and violent nature, vindictive, stubborn, and\nself-willed, not ennobled but rather brutalized by his\nsufferings.[115\\12] Nevertheless, divine power elevates him to the\nstate of immortal _Hero_ less almost for the sake of the\nsatisfaction and bliss to himself as in order that he may be the\nsaviour of the Attic land, the country of humanity and kindness that\nhas taken into its protection[116\\12] the unfortunate one, and\ndesires to preserve for ever his power of blessing.[117\\12] Just as\nonce it had pleased divine power to overwhelm the innocent victim in\na sea of crime and suffering, so now it pleases the same divine\npower to raise the sufferer, without any new or special merit on his\nside, to a fate of superhuman bliss.[118\\12] In his case a divine\nmiracle occurs, into the ultimate reasons for which it is not\nprofitable to inquire.\n\nIn his views, so far as he allows us to see them, of the things of\nthe next world, Sophokles differs not at all from those who still\nsaw life and worshipped the gods as their fathers had done before\nthem. The great poet of human, tragic destiny, the profound student\nof the divine government of this mournful world, was unwilling to\nset by the side of it a brighter and more comforting picture of a\nspirit world of the imagination. In this, too, he is modest and will\nnot say much--he knows no more of these matters, and in no other\nfashion, than \"any other honest citizen of Athens\".[119\\12]\n\n\u00a7 6\n\nIn the course of a long life Sophokles was able to make himself\ncomplete master of his art and grow up into strong and generous\nmanhood without the guidance or support of either theological or\nphilosophical learning. Theology he did not care to seek out in its\nhiding place, the obscurity of isolated sects. Philosophy, in the\nperiod of his impressionable youth, had not yet reached Athens, and\nwhen he had attained riper years his noble simplicity of temper had\nlittle to gain or to fear from the meditated wisdom or folly of the\nyounger generation. In serene detachment he passed on his way\nthrough all the press and clamour of the market place. {432}\n\nThe moving impulse which since the end of the sixth century had\ncollected together at Athens all the intellectual forces of Greece\nfor a final expansion of their capacity now began, in the middle of\nthe fifth century, to take hold of philosophy as it had long since\ndone literature and the fine arts. Athens saw the last\nrepresentatives of Ionian physiology gathered together within her\nwalls. Some, like Anaxagoras, took up their residence there for a\nlong period, and left the impress of their teaching upon the\nforemost minds of the city. The others who paid briefer visits were\nthose who in conscious opposition to the recent trend of thinking,\nstoutly upheld the older principles of philosophic Monism or\nHylozoism, such as Diogenes of Apollonia or Hippon of Samos; or who\nsought like Archelaos to reconcile the old and the new Ionic\ndoctrine. Besides these, Athens was a headquarters of the wandering\nexponents of the newest wisdom, the Sophists. Nowhere did unfettered\ndiscussion find such cultivated appreciation of its daring; nowhere\nwas such an eager welcome given to the dialectical word-play that,\nseeming to be an end in itself, was destined to become the most\nfruitful nursery of native Athenian philosophy. All traditional\nbeliefs and customs that had not their origin or their justification\nin reflexion were already doomed as soon as they, together with\nevery conventional view of life and the world, were deprived of\ntheir natural protection of unchallenged self-evidence by the cold\nscrutiny of the sovereign tyrant Dialectic. The Sophists, those\nskirmishers of a new and as yet unrecognizable philosophy, scattered\nand put to flight the old guard of positive and doctrinal wisdom,\nbut to the individual, who was bidden to depend upon his own\nresources, they offered stimulus to reflection in abundance but no\npermanent foothold in the shifting sands of opinion. It would be but\na final assertion of the principle that there are no principles if\nby any chance the Sophists themselves should for a moment speak in\nthe language of edification and, for example, lend the support of\ntheir eloquence to certain articles of doctrine that provided a\npositive teaching as to the nature and life of the soul.[120\\12]\n\nIf Sophokles remained quite unaffected by this whole movement which\nreached its flood tide in Athens, Euripides was drawn completely\ninto its current. He sought out philosophers and sophists personally\nand in their writings. His was a spirit that urgently desired to\nknow the truth and he followed every available guide to knowledge\nand wisdom for a stage upon their journey. But he was never able to\ncontinue permanently in any one direction; in the restlessness {433}\nand bewilderment of search and experiment he is the true son of his\nage.\n\nHis philosophical and sophistical leanings were sufficiently marked\nto make it impossible for him to accept any part of the belief or\ntradition of his countrymen without trial. So far as it is possible\nwithin the limits of dramatic art, he instituted an unsparing and\nunhesitating criticism of all accepted things, and in the process\nfelt himself immeasurably superior to the wit and wisdom of the\npast. And yet he never satisfied himself. He could never rest\ncontent with a merely negative position, for all onesidedness was\nforeign to his nature. The tremendous honesty of his nature made it\nimpossible for him to admit that element of frivolity which made the\nsophistic movement and the dialectical negation of all certainty so\nsimple and attractive, and at the same time took away half its\nsting. But he could take nothing easily; and so with all his\nsophistic enlightenment he was never happy. The pupil of the\nSophists would hear every other side as well; there were even\nmoments when he longed to take refuge in the restful narrowness of\nold and traditional piety. But it was not given to him to settle\ndown in any fixed set of opinions; all his convictions were\nprovisional, mere hypotheses adopted for the purposes of experiment.\nAfloat on a changeful sea, he let himself be driven hither and\nthither by every wind of intellectual excitement or artistic\nnecessity.\n\nWhen all convictions were involved together in a state of perpetual\nchange and instability, the conception of the nature and being of\nthe soul and its relation to the powers of life and death could not\nalone remain in fixed and dogmatic certainty.\n\nWhere the content and character of the fable chosen as the subject\nof his drama demand it, the poet frankly adopts the popular view of\nthe nature and destiny of the departed soul, its power and claim\nupon the worship of the survivors upon earth. In the fairy-tale play\nof the \"Alcestis\" the whole apparatus of popular belief plays its\npart; the God of Death and his awful office, the dwelling of the\ndead in the underworld, are spoken of as facts and creatures of\nexperience and reality.[121\\12] The elaborate funeral ceremonies\nowed to the dead are treated with the utmost seriousness and\nprecision.[122\\12] A whole drama, the \"Suppliant Women\", has as its\nreal subject, or at least as its ostensible motive, the religious\nimportance of a ritual burial,[123\\12] nor is there any lack of\nisolated passages in which the importance of burial and the honour\npaid to graves is stressed.[124\\12] The survivors on earth give\npleasure to the dead by offerings at their graves,[125\\12] {434} and\nin this way obtain their goodwill and can count upon their\nsupport.[126\\12] Power and honour belong not only to the great ones\nof antiquity translated to a higher state of being;[127\\12] not only\n\"Heroes\" can extend their influence beyond their graves and affect\nthe course of earthly events:[128\\12] from the soul of his murdered\nfather, the son expects assistance and succour in his time of need.\nThe dread creatures of antique faith, the Erinyes, exact vengeance\nfor the murdered mother.[129\\12]\n\nBut at this point it becomes apparent that the poet only associates\nhimself for his own purposes with this circle of ancient and\nsanctified popular fancy--so long in fact as it suits the tone that\nhe wishes to give to the drama and its characters. The Erinyes are\nexcellent material for the play--that in reality their horrid\nfigures only exist in the imagination of the mentally diseased is\nclearly asserted in the \"Orestes\".[130\\12] The whole series of\nbeliefs and demands--murder ever calling forth fresh murder in\naccordance with the sacred duty of vengeance, the Erinyes, the\nbloodthirsty patrons of the murdered victim who leaves no proper\navenger behind him--all these have ceased to have any validity for\nhim. The \"animal and bloodthirsty\" part of these figures of ancient\nbelief call forth the loathing of the poet living in the days of\norganized justice and humaner manners.[131\\12] He does not believe\nin the souls' right to blood; the ancient legends which depend on\nthis right are an abomination to him. In fact, he only seems to have\nwritten his plays about them in order, by the manner of his\npresentation, to have his revenge upon this material that was almost\nunavoidably thrust upon him by the tradition of the tragic stage.\nThe duty of the living to offer a cult to the departed souls becomes\ndoubtful in its turn. The seriousness with which that cult is\nsometimes handled in the plays is compromised by such reflections as\nthese: it is certain that it matters little to the dead whether rich\noffering are placed in their graves or not; such things only satisfy\nthe idle vanity of the living;[132\\12] honour and dishonour are of\nno further consequence to the dead.[133\\12] How should they be, if\nthe departed no longer feel either pleasure or pain, are nothing at\nall, as is repeatedly declared even in the middle of the\n\"Alcestis\"?[134\\12]\n\nIt is evident that only from an arbitrarily adopted point of view do\nthe picturesque creations of popular belief in the soul and of the\ncult of souls seem real to the poet; apart from this they disappear\nfrom his mind like the creatures of a dream.[135\\12] The teachings\nof the theologians supplied him with no real substitute for popular\nfaith; at the most they were a {435} momentary and passing stimulus.\nNo doubt he did not shut his eyes completely to these manifestations\nof the spiritual life of his time. His plays contain allusions to\nOrphic poetry and he joins the asceticism of the Orphics to the cold\nvirtue of his Hippolytos.[136\\12] The thought that the soul has\nfallen from a higher state of being and is enclosed within the body\nlike the dead man in his coffin takes captive his imagination for a\nmoment. \"Who knows then whether life is not a kind of death,\" so\nthat in death the soul awakes to its real life?[137\\12] The gloomy\nview of human destiny upon this earth to which the poet so often\ngives expression, might seem to hint at a consolation to come in a\nmore satisfactory hereafter; but the poet has no longing for the\nconsolation offered by the theologians. Among the many and various\nreflections of the poet upon the reality that may reveal itself when\nthe curtain is drawn aside by death, we never meet with the\nconception that lies at the bottom of the assurances made by the\ntheologians--the conception that the spiritual individual is certain\nof its immortality because in its individuality it is of divine\nnature and is itself a god.[138\\12] True, he is the author of the\nbold saying so often quoted and varied in later times, that God is\nnothing else but the mind that dwells in men.[139\\12] But this makes\nno allusion to the theological doctrine of the multiplicity of\nindividual gods or daimones banished into the life of men; it rather\nimplies a semi-philosophic doctrine of the soul in which one may\nperceive for the first time the expression of a permanent conviction\non the part of the poet.\n\nIn quite inapposite contexts Euripides sometimes introduces passing\nallusions to a philosophical view of the world and humanity, that is\nthe more certainly to be regarded as the private conviction of the\npoet himself as the utterances fail to correspond fully with the\ncharacter of the person in the play who makes them, and do not arise\nnecessarily from the dramatic situation. Everything in the world has\nhad its origin from Earth and \"the Aether of Zeus\"; the Earth is the\nmaternal womb from which the Aether brings everything to\nbirth.[140\\12] Both constituents combine to produce the multiplicity\nof appearance; they are not fused together nor are they to be\nderived from a single common original element;[141\\12] they remain\nin dualistic contrast side by side.[142\\12] It was probably the\ndualism of this cosmological fancy that reminded the ancients of\nAnaxagoras; but these statements cannot be regarded as simply a\npoetical version of the doctrine of Anaxagoras;[143\\12] for they\nderive the multiplicity of matter and things from the simple element\nof \"Earth\" from which {436} they arise only by a process of change\nand transformation, while in the \"seedmixture\" of Anaxagoras, the\nunchangeable seeds of all things only separate themselves out from\nthe whole and give rise by mechanical reassemblings to all the\nperceived appearances of the world. The \"Aether\" of Euripides in its\nrelations with the \"Earth\" is besides being the active partner also\nthe intellectual and animated element. The isolation of such an\nelement from the rest of matter does indeed remind us of the\nprocedure of Anaxagoras. But the poet's Aether is still an element\nthough it may be penetrated by mind and animated by spirit; it is\nnot a mental being standing over against all the other elements in\nessential distinctness like the _Nous_ of Anaxagoras. The fact that\nit is the element of the Aether, i.e. the dry and hot air, in which\nintellectual capacity is said to inhere, may be regarded as having\nbeen borrowed from Diogenes of Apollonia, a philosopher who was held\nin considerable estimation at Athens at that time, and who was well\nknown to Euripides.[144\\12] In his doctrine, the air (which indeed,\nin contrast to the view of Euripides, produces all other things\nsimply out of itself) is expressly identified with the \"Soul\" and is\nitself described as \"having understanding\".[145\\12]\n\nThis view of the elementary forces and constitution of the universe,\nmade up as it is from philosophical suggestions of a scarcely\nreconcilable character, in which the dualistic tendency is in fact\nfinally predominant, suggests itself to the poet whenever in an\nexalted mood he speaks of the final destiny of the human soul. The\nsoul on its separation from the body will depart to join the\n\"Aether\". But in such conceptions it is not always the imagination\nof the philosopher-poet that finds expression. On this subject it is\naccompanied or replaced by a more popular view that only distantly\nresembles it, but which led to the same result. When we hear now and\nagain of the Aether, the luminous atmosphere above the clouds, as\nbeing the _dwelling place_ of the departed souls,[146\\12] the\nview--more theological than philosophic in its character--seems to\nbe implied that after death the liberated soul will float upwards to\nthe seat of the gods[147\\12] which has long ceased to be situated\nupon Olympos, but is in \"heaven\" or in this same Aether. This, too,\nwas the meaning of a saying traditionally ascribed to Epicharmos the\ncomic-poet of Sicily who was himself versed in philosophy. In this\nsaying the pious man is assured that for him death will bring no\nevil for his \"mind\" will dwell permanently in \"heaven\".[148\\12] This\nconception, which appears so frequently in later epitaphs, {437}\nmust have been familiar to popular imagination at Athens at an early\nperiod; at least in the grave-epigram officially dedicated by the\nstate to the memory of the Athenians who fell in the year 432 before\nPoteidaia, we find the belief expressed (as a commonly received\nopinion) that the souls of these brave men have been received by the\n\"Aether\" just as the earth has received their bodies.[149\\12] Such\nofficial use implies a commonly accepted opinion and the fundamental\nideas of the popular cult of the souls might have led to similar\nresults. From the beginning popular belief had regarded the psyche,\nwhich got its name from the air or breath, as closely akin to the\nwinds, the mobile air and its spirits. It would not be difficult for\nthe idea to arise that the soul, as soon as it was free to decide\nfor itself what should become of it, should go to join the elemental\nspirits that are its kinsfolk. Perhaps this, too, is what Epicharmos\nmeans when on another occasion he says that in death when the united\nare parted asunder each returns whence it came, the body to earth,\nbut the soul up to the heights--its name, in which allusion is made\nto its perpetual mobility, being now after the example of Xenophanes\nderived from the breath of the wind, the moving air (~pneu=ma~), a\nusage which became very common in later times.[150\\12]\n\nBut perhaps the use of such a name is an indication that this poet\nalso regards the soul as standing in a close relation and kinship\nwith the Aether that is destined to receive it after its release\nfrom the body; so that from this side, too[151\\12]--in addition to\nthe more popular conception just mentioned--Euripides may have\nreceived a hint for his peculiar version of the physiological theory\nof Diogenes. In his view the soul participates in the nature of the\nAether. But it is more important to notice that the Aether\nparticipates in the nature and true reality of the soul; it\npossesses life, consciousness and power of thought. They both belong\nto one family. The Aether according to the poet--and here the\nspeculations of Anaximenes as revived by Diogenes are\nunmistakable[152\\12]--is a true vital atmosphere, an all-embracing\npsychic element, so that it becomes, not a mere vehicle of mind, but\nthe All-Mind itself. The concept is even condensed and\nhalf-personified, it is called by the name of the highest divine\npower, Zeus,[153\\12] and the poet as though speaking of a personal\ngod, calls it \"immortal\".[154\\12] The human mind, too, as akin to\nthe universal god and the All-Mind, appears, as it had been in the\nteaching of Diogenes,[155\\12] as a part of this God, this universal\nMind. God is the mind, and the mind and understanding in us is\nGod--so the poet clearly asserts.[156\\12] In death, when {438} the\nseparation of the mind from its earthly elements takes place, the\nPneuma of man will \"not indeed live\", as it had done in the separate\nexistence of the individual man, but it will \"preserve an immortal\nconsciousness\", entering into the immortal Aether and fusing itself\nwith the All-living and the All-thinking.[157\\12] None of the\nphysiologists who conceived the same idea of an immortality\nexcluding the personal immortality of the individual, of the\nuniversal spirit of life in mankind, has expressed his meaning with\nsuch distinctness as this philosophic layman.\n\nThe poet may have wished to remain permanently upon the sublime\nheights of this Pantheistic vision; but he must, in his peculiar\nall-embracing spirit that never held fast to any one view with\nenduring persistence, have experienced too often the truth of the\nsaying of Protagoras that every statement calls forth its equally\nlegitimate opposite,[158\\12] to have become an unswerving adherent\nof any single opinion. Death, and whatever may reveal itself after\ndeath, is beyond the experience of any man.[159\\12] It may be that\ncomplete disappearance into nothingness follows death; that the dead\nman becomes simply nothing.[160\\12] It may be that in the permanence\nof the human race the great name and the renown of glorious deeds\nlives on undying.[161\\12] Whether there may remain besides a vestige\nof life in a spirit world, who can tell? Perhaps such a thing is\nhardly even to be wished.[162\\12] It is just what makes death such a\ncomforting thing, that it puts an end to all feeling and therefore\nto all pain and every care. We should not lament over our fate if,\nlike the harvests that follow each other in the course of the years,\none generation of men after another flowers, fades, and is carried\noff. So it is ordered in the course of Nature, and we ought not to\nbe dismayed by anything that is rendered inevitable by her\nlaws.[163\\12]\n\n\nNOTES TO CHAPTER XII\n\n[1\\12: The learned and more particularly the philosophers of later\nages paid special attention to utterances of the older poetry that\ngave expression to belief of a spiritualist tendency. Just as they\nselected and preserved passages from Pindar (and from Melanippides\nin the case soon to be mentioned), which bore witness to an advanced\nview of the soul, so they must also have given us similar passages\nfrom other melic or from iambic and elegiac poets--if such passages\nhad existed. They must, for example, have been absent from the\n~thr\u00ea=noi~ of Simonides which were famous as the models of this kind\nof poetry. And so with all the rest.]\n\n[2\\12: Hades puts an end to all pleasure for every man; hence the\nwarning that man should enjoy his youth upon earth: Thgn. 973 ff.;\ncf. 877 f., 1191 ff., 1009 f.; Sol. 24; Thgn. 719 ff.]\n\n[3\\12: ~thana/t\u00f4| pa/ntes opheilo/metha~--an ancient saying often\nrepeated; cf. Bergk on Simon. 122, 2; Nauck on Soph., _El._ 1173\n[Blaydes ad loc.].]\n\n[4\\12: Hades himself plays the part of Thanatos and carries off the\nsouls to the lower world. Thus as early as Semon. i, 13 f., ~tou\\s\nd' A/rei ded\u00eame/nous pe/mpei melai/n\u00eas A\u00ef/d\u00eas hupo\\ chthono/s~. In\nmetaphorical language ~Ha/id\u00eas~ for ~tha/natos~ is quite regular\nfrom the time of Pindar onwards. This, in turn, lent support to the\nuse of the name of ~Ha/id\u00eas~ instead of the _personified_\n~Tha/natos~. So esp. in Pi., _O._ ix, 33-5; cf. besides, _Epigr.\nGr._ 89, 3-4. ~to/nde . . . ma/rpsas Ha/id\u00eas hoi skoti/as\namphe/balen pte/rugas~; cf. 201, 2; 252, 1-2. (And therefore in\nEur., _Alc._ 261, we should not alter the ~pter\u00f4to\\s Ha/idas~ who is\nnamed instead of Thanatos--not even in favour of the otherwise\ningenious ~ble/p\u00f4n . . . ha/|dan~.)]\n\n[5\\12: ~d\u00earo\\n e/nerthen g\u00ea=s ole/sas psuch\u00ea\\n kei/somai h\u00f4/ste\nli/thos a/phthoggos~ Thgn. 567 f.--the condition of things in Hades\nis regarded exactly as in the Homeric pictures: Thgn. 704-10.]\n\n[6\\12: See esp. Sol. 13, 29 ff.: Thgn. 731-42; 205 ff.]\n\n[7\\12: Mimn. ii, 13: ~a/llos d' hau= pai/d\u00f4n epideu/etai, h\u00f4=nte\nma/lista himei/r\u00f4n kata\\ g\u00ea=s e/rchetai eis A\u00ef/d\u00ean~. Without\nchildren there can be no assurance that the cult of the soul will be\ncarried on. But we may well believe that the attaching of so much\nimportance to offspring was assisted by the natural human belief\nthat the man who left children behind him on earth did not\ncompletely perish in death (hence ~aeigene/s esti kai\\ atha/naton\nh\u00f4s thn\u00eat\u00f4=| h\u00ea ge/nn\u00easis~ as in Plato, _Smp._ 206 E). This alone\ngives a meaning and a reason for the widespread belief among the\nGreeks that the wicked man who is punished after his death in his\nchildren and children's children himself feels that punishment.]\n\n[8\\12: Semon. 1; 3. Mimn. 2. Sol. 13, 63 ff.; 14. Thgn. 167 f.; 425\nff. We may also add here the expressions of resignation, Hdt. vii,\n46; i, 31.]\n\n[9\\12: ~Nukto\\s tha/lamos~ [Ion] _fr._ 8, 2.]\n\n[10\\12: On the story of Midas and Silenos see _Griech. Roman_, p.\n204 f. As to the ancient and often repeated maxim ~arch\u00ea\\n~ (or\n~pa/nt\u00f4n) me\\n m\u00ea\\ phu=nai epichthoni/oisin a/riston ktl.~, see\nBgk., _Opusc._ ii, 214; _PLG^4. ii, p. 155 f. Nietzsche, _Rh. Mus._\nxxviii, 212 ff. (whose view that the {440} beginning ~arch\u00ea\\n . . .~\nis old and original--but not his involved explanation of this--has\nbeen fully confirmed by the finding of the primitive form of the\n~ag\u00f4/n~: Mahaffy, _On the Flinders Petrie Papyri_, i, p. 70).]\n\n[11\\12: Simon, _fr._ 39; 38.]\n\n[12\\12: _fr._ 137.--Usener, _G\u00f6tternamen_, 229, 13, says of Sappho\nthat \"she was possessed by the belief that as a poetess she would\nlive again after her death among the gods, and would therefore\nbecome a _heroine_; see _frr._ 68 and 136\". But from these fragments\nof Sappho no such belief can be extracted without first reading into\nthem a good deal that they do not say.]\n\n[13\\12: Of the man who has fallen in glory on the battlefield\nTyrtaios says, 12, 31 f.: ~oude/ pote kle/os esthlo\\n apo/llutai\noud' o/nom' au/tou=, all' hupo\\ g\u00ea=s per e\u00f4\\n gi/gnetai\n_atha/natos_~ (i.e. in renown upon earth). Thgn. says to his Kyrnos,\n243 ff., in your lifetime my songs will make you famous ~kai\\ ho/tan\ndnopher\u00ea=s hupo\\ keu/thesi gai/\u00eas b\u00ea=|s poluk\u00f4ku/tous eis Ai/dao\ndo/mous, oude/pot' oude\\ than\u00f4\\n apolei=s kle/os alla\\ mel\u00ea/seis\na/phthiton anthr\u00f4/pois aie\\n e/ch\u00f4n o/noma . . .~ cf. Aesch.,\n_Epigr._ iii, 3 (241 Bgk. = 449 Di.), ~z\u00f4o\\n de\\ phthime/n\u00f4n\npe/letai kle/os~.]\n\n[14\\12: Even in Hades the dead perceive ~chthoni/a| phreni/~ if they\nthemselves or the ~aretai/~ of their descendants upon earth are\npraised: Pi., _P._ v, 98: cf. _O._ viii, 81 ff.; xiv, 20 ff.; [Ion]\n_Anth. Pal._ vii, 43, 3 (to Eurip.), ~i/sthi d' hupo\\ chthono\\s \u00f4/n,\nho/ti soi kle/os a/phthiton e/stai ktl.~--In the expressions\ncollected by Meuss, _Jahrb. f. Philol._ 1889, p. 812 f., from the\nfourth century orators there only remains a very faint recollection\nof such a belief.]\n\n[15\\12: Semon. 2, ~tou= me\\n thano/ntos ouk a\\n enthumoi/metha, ei/\nti phronoi=men, plei=on h\u00eame/r\u00eas mi\u00ea=s~.--Stes. 51, ~atele/stata\nga\\r kai\\ ama/chana tou\\s thano/ntas klai/ein~. 52, ~thano/ntos\nandro\\s pa=s' apo/llutai pot' anthr\u00f4/p\u00f4n cha/ris~.]\n\n[16\\12: This emerges at once if we review the material collected by\nH. Meuss upon \"the conceptions appearing in the Attic orators of\nexistence after death\": _Jahrb. f. Philol._ 1889, pp. 801-15. For\nthe cult of the soul and all that attaches to it the orators are our\nmost authoritative witnesses and as such are frequently examined in\nthe sections of this book that deal with the subject.]\n\n[17\\12: ~_ei/_ tines t\u00f4=n teteleut\u00eako/t\u00f4n la/boien _tro/p\u00f4| tini\\_\ntou= nu=n gignome/nou pra/gmatos ai/sth\u00easin~ and frequently in this\nstyle: cf. the passages quoted by Westermann on D., _Lept._ (20),\n87; cf. also Lehrs, _Pop. Aufs._ 329 ff. The question is always\nwhether the dead are capable in any way of apprehending what goes on\nin this world. The continued life of the dead is never doubtful but\nrather implied throughout, for without such implication no\npossibility whatever would be left for that ~ei~--.]\n\n[18\\12: See N\u00e4gelsbach, _Nachhom. Theol._ 420. Meuss, p. 812.]\n\n[19\\12: This is well brought out by Lehrs, _Pop. Aufs._ 331. But the\nstatement holds good in an even more precise and exclusive sense\nthan he there gives it. The words of Hyper., _Epit._ xiii, \u00a7 39,\ndeal simply with the existence in Hades of those who have died for\ntheir country (with some traditional embellishments; see above,\nchap. vii, n. 5)--this much can hardly ever have been expressly\ndoubted or denied by any orator. But it is wrong to say (as Lehrs\ndoes: p. 331) that Hyp. expresses, though in other words, what was\nafterwards laid down by [D.H.] _Rhet._ vi, 5, as proper \"for such\nfuneral speeches\" (no, only for _private_ funerals--which is quite\nanother matter). It is true that the advice there given is to say\nthat the soul is _~atha/natos~_ and now dwells {441} \"with the\ngods\". But it never enters into the head of Hyp. to say any such\nthing (nor in the frag. of the speech preserved by Stob., _Fl._ 124,\n36). In fact, the precept of this sophistic writer (still more the\nadvice given by Men. Rhet., _de Encom._ 414, 16 ff.; 421, 16 ff.\nSp.) rather reveals the enormous contrast between the style of the\nsophistic funeral oratory of a later period and the real\ncharacteristics of the old Attic funeral orations: a difference\nfounded upon the difference of sentiment manifested by the public\nthat listened to such speeches in two different ages. Even the\nstatements of [Dem.] _Epit._ (60) 34 (~pa/redroi toi=s ka/t\u00f4\ntheoi=s~ together with the ~agathoi\\ a/ndres~ of earlier times ~en\nmaka/r\u00f4n n\u00ea/sois~) betray sophistic colouring though falling far\nshort of the excesses of Ps.-D.H. and Men. Rhet.]\n\n[20\\12: The only thing ~ ag\u00ea/rantos~ about those who have fallen in\nthe wars of freedom is their ~eulogi/\u00ea~ Simon. 100, 4; cf. 106, 4\n(with Bgk.'s note). 99, 3-4 ~oude\\ tethna=si thano/ntes epei/ sph'\naret\u00ea\\ kathu/perthen kudai/nous' ana/gei d\u00f4/matos ex A\u00ef/de\u00f4~ (which\nis imitated in the epitaph of Thrasymachos the Kretan ~oude\\ than\u00f4\\n\nareta=s o/num' \u00f4le/sas, alla\\ se Pha/ma kudai/nous' ana/gei d\u00f4/matos\nex A\u00ef/da~, _BCH._ 1889, p. 60).]\n\n[21\\12: ~klu=thi/ moi \u00f4= pa/ter, thau=ma brot\u00f4=n, ta=s aeiz\u00f4/ou\nmede/\u00f4n psucha=s~, Melanipp. 6. The words ~thau=ma brot\u00f4=n~\n(modelled on the ~thau=ma brotoi=si~ of Homer) can refer only to\nDionysos (of the gods who enter into the question here): ~Di\u00f4/nusos,\ncha/rma brotoi=sin~, ~X~ 325. Further, it is natural to think of\nDionysos in the work of a dithyrambic poet.]\n\n[22\\12: The dead man ~amph' Ache/ronti naieta/\u00f4n~, Pi., _N._ iv, 85.\nThis is the general assumption: e.g. _P._ xi, 19-22; _O._ ix, 33-5;\n_I._ viii, 59 f.; _fr._ 207 Bgk.]\n\n[23\\12: ~e/sti de\\ kai/ ti thano/ntessin me/ros ka\\n no/mon\nerdo/menon; katakru/ptei d' ou ko/nis suggo/n\u00f4n kedna\\n cha/rin~,\n_O._ viii, 77 ff.]\n\n[24\\12: Something of the kind is adopted for the moment, e.g. in\n_O._ xiv, 20 ff.; viii, 81 ff. A real belief in such a possibility\nappears perhaps most clearly in _P._ v, 98 ff.]\n\n[25\\12: For him who dies fighting for his country there is in\nstore--not blessedness but only Fame, _I._ vii, 26 ff. He who comes\n~kala\\ e/rxais aoida=s a/ter eis A\u00ef/da stathmo/n~ has little reward\nfor his pains (his reward would, in fact, have been just the praise\ngiven in the ~aoida/~), _O._ x, 91 ff., cf. _N._ vii, 30-2.]\n\n[26\\12: A strange expression is the ~dai/m\u00f4n gene/thlios~ of _O._\nxiii, 105 (in the same poem we also have ~Xenoph\u00f4=ntos dai/m\u00f4n~ 28,\nwhich in this case at least is something more than \"destiny\",\notherwise the normal meaning of ~dai/m\u00f4n~ in Pindar, cf. _P._ v,\n123, _I._ vii, 43). It almost seems as if it were intended to\ndescribe the ancestor spirit that brings good luck to the house like\nthe _genius generis_ or ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s suggenei/as~ (see above, chap. v, n.\n132).]\n\n[27\\12: Amphiaraos, _O._ vi, 14; _N._ ix, 24 ff.; x, 8 f. (Amph.\nfrom his underground cavern sees the fighting in the war of the\nEpigonoi, _P._ viii, 39-56. There is no suggestion that the\n~Epi/gonoi~ inquire at his oracle--as Dissen supposes; with this the\n~h\u00f4=d' eipe _marname/n\u00f4n_~ 43 is inconsistent.)--Ganymedes\ntranslated to eternal life, _O._ i, 44; x, 104 f. Apart from this\nthere are temporary translations to the gods or from one place on\nearth to another, _O._ i, 36 ff.; ix, 59; _P._ ix, 5ff.; _I._ viii,\n20 f.]\n\n[28\\12: _O._ ii, 27 ff.]\n\n[29\\12: ~alla/ ti prosphe/romen e/mpan \u00ea\\ me/gan no/on \u00ea/toi phu/sin\nathana/tois~, _N._ vi, 4 f.]\n\n[30\\12: ~skia=s o/nar a/nthr\u00f4pos~, _P._ viii, 95. ~he\\n andr\u00f4=n he\\n\nthe\u00f4=n ge/nos, ek mia=s de\\ pne/omen matro\\s ampho/teroi; diei/rgei\nde\\ pa=sa kekrime/na du/namis, {442} h\u00f4s to\\ me\\n oude/n, ho de\\\nchalkeos asphale\\s aie\\n he/dos me/nei ourano/s~, _N._ vi, 1 ff.]\n\n[31\\12: _fr._ 131 Bgk.]\n\n[32\\12: Pindar in these lines speaks only of the ~ai\u00f4=nos ei/d\u00f4lon~;\nbut that by this he means the ~psuch\u00ea/~ is obvious in itself and is\nstated by Plutarch, who preserves the lines, _Cons. ad Apoll._ 35,\np. 120 D (~peri\\ psuch\u00ea=s le/g\u00f4n~; cf. _Rom._ 28).--~psuch\u00ea/~ in\nPindar sometimes stands for what is otherwise called ~kardi/a~ or\n~phr\u00ea/n~, \"heart\" or \"disposition\" e.g. _P._ i, 48; iv, 122; _N._\nix, 39; _I._ iv, 53b, and _O._ ii, 77, and prob. also _P._ iii, 41;\n\"disposition,\" _N._ ix, 32. The word is sometimes (as in Homer)\nequivalent to ~z\u00f4\u00ea/~, _P._ iii, 101, ~psucha\\n lip\u00f4/n~. It\nsimultaneously = \"life\" and the _alter ego_ dwelling within the\nliving man, _O._ viii, ~psucha\\s ba/lon~; cf. _N._ i, 47. But the\npoet knows also the full meaning of ~psucha/~ in the older idiom and\nbelief. Entirely in the manner of Homeric usage ~psucha/~ denotes\nthe spiritual double of mankind, which survives the man himself, in\nthose instances where the ~psuch\u00ea/~ of the dead is said to be still\nin existence: ~psucha\\n komi/xai~, _P._ iv, 159; _N._ viii, 44 f.;\n~su\\n Agamemnoni/a| psucha=|~ (is Kassandra sent into Hades), _P._\nxi, 20 f. Persephone ~anadidoi= psucha\\s pa/lin~ (out of Hades),\n_fr._ 133, 3 (Bgk.); _I._ i, 68, ~psucha\\n A\u00ef/da| tele/\u00f4n~ (in\ndeath).--~psuchai/~ is also used in the old idiomatic sense in _fr._\n132, 1: which is, however, spurious.--~psucha/~ in Pindar never\ndenotes the psychical powers of the living man inclusive of the\nintellect, much less the intellect, ~nou=s~, alone.]\n\n[33\\12: ~kai\\ s\u00f4=ma me\\n pa/nt\u00f4n he/petai thana/t\u00f4| peristhenei=,\nz\u00f4=on d' e/ti lei/petai ai\u00f4=nos ei/d\u00f4lon; to\\ _ga\\r_ esti mo/non ek\nthe\u00f4=n~, _fr._ 131 (96 Boeckh).]\n\n[34\\12: ~oi=si de\\ Phersepho/na poina\\n palaiou= pe/ntheos\nde/xetai~--_fr._ 133. What is meant is undoubtedly the ancient\n\"guilt\" of the soul for which Perseph. receives satisfaction. This\nguilt can only be called a ~pe/nthos~ if she who accepts the\nsatisfaction is regarded as herself grief-stricken by the guilty\ndead; if, in fact, the deed has been the occasion of mourning for\nPersephone. That this can apply to the goddess of the underworld is\nstartling, but it cannot be got rid of by artificial interpretation\n(as Dissen would like to get rid of it). Pindar follows throughout\nthe analogy of the ancient procedure of expiation in the case of\nblood-guiltiness. But this procedure seems to be familiar with the\nidea that, apart from the ~agchistei/a~ of the murdered man, the\nunderworld gods themselves (as guardians of the Souls) are\nimmediately injured by the deed and stricken by grief and must\nreceive satisfaction on their own account. Hence in certain legends\n(typificatory of ritual) the murderer not only has to fly from the\nland but to undergo servitude to the ~chtho/nioi~: Apollo,\nespecially after the slaying of Python, has to serve ~A/dm\u00eatos~,\ni.e. Hades for an _enna\u00ebteris_ (more on this subject below, n. 40).\nThus, the guilty soul banished from its proper home serves a \"great\nyear\" under Persephone, and this is the ~poina/~ that it pays.]\n\n[35\\12: _O._ ii, 63-5. Everything here refers to judgment and\ncompensation _in Hades_. In the words ~thano/nt\u00f4n me\\n entha/d'\nauti/k' apa/lamnoi phre/nes poina\\s e/tisan~ the ~entha/de~ cannot\npossibly belong to the ~poina\\s e/tisan~, as Aristarchos supposed,\nso that the words should refer to the punishment in the course of a\nnew birth upon _earth_ of crimes committed in Hades (in itself a\nremarkable conception). ~thano/ntes~ alone would not be put for\n~thano/ntes _kai\\ anabebi\u00f4ko/tes_~, and we can only understand by\nthe word those who after a life-time upon earth have died and are\nnow spending their time below in the underworld. Moreover, it is\nhardly likely (as Ty. Mommsen reminds us _adnot. crit. ad Olymp._\n24) that the exposition of the \"knowledge of the future\" (62) on the\npart of {443} a man still living upon earth would begin with what\nmay happen to man, not after his death, but in a second appearance\nupon earth that is to fall to his lot later on. We must first of all\nbe told what happens after the conclusion of the present condition\nof life, viz. that upon earth. Finally, the use of ~auti/ka~ is\nquite satisfactory if it refers to the judgment in Hades that\nfollows immediately after death; while it is meaningless in\nAristarchos' interpretation (hence Rauchenstein writes ~au=tis~--a\nmere conjecture and a superfluous one). The view that the ~me\\n--de/~\nof 63-4 necessitates Aristarchos' explanation is not convincing (as\nL\u00fcbbert thinks, _Ind. Schol. Bonn. hib._ 1887, p.\nxviii--incidentally he quite unjustifiably introduces specifically\nPlatonic fancies into Pindar, p. xix). The ~thano/nt\u00f4n me/n~ of 63\nis not answered till ~ho/soi d' eto/lmasan . . .~ 75, just as the\n~auti/ka~ of 63 does not receive its contrast till we come to what\nhappens much later--after the life on earth has been thrice\nrepeated--described in 75 ff. The ~de/~ of 64 and 67 are subordinate\n(not adversative) to what is introduced by the ~me/n~ of 63 and they\ncontinue the thought. The ~entha/de~ of 63 might indeed, in\naccordance with an otherwise correct usage, be connected with\n~apa/lamnoi phre/nes~, as it is by one of the Scholiasts: \"the\n~phre/nes~ which have committed crimes here upon earth.\" But\n~apa/lamnos~ does not mean _sceleratus_, _impius_ (nor does it in\nthe passages adduced for this meaning by Zacher, _Diss. Halens._\niii, 237: Thgn. 281; Sim. v, 3). The ~apa/lamnoi phre/nes~ are\nsimply equivalent to the ~amen\u00eana\\ ka/r\u00eana~ of Homer, and are a very\nsuitable expression for the ~psuchai/~ of the dead (though not\nindeed for the ~psuchai/~ of the reborn as Aristarchos would have\nit). No alternative remains save to connect ~thano/nt\u00f4n~ and\n~entha/de~: simulac mortui sunt hic, s. decedunt hinc (Dissen). The\nsentence ~ta\\ d' en ta=|de . . .~ must then either be a more exact\ndescription of what has been stated generally just before in\n~poina\\s e/tisan~ (and this is Mommsen's view supported by one\nSchol.), or else be subordinated--together with its contrasted\n~i/sais de\\ . . .~ 67 ff.--to ~poina\\s e/tisan~. ~poina/~ in Pindar\nmeans regularly compensation, whether expiation for evil deeds or\nreward for good (cf. _P._ i, 59; _N._ i, 70b). If we might suppose\nthat by a brachylogy not beyond possibility in Pindar ~poina\\s\ne/tisan~ is put for ~poina\\s e/tisan kai\\ ede/xanto~, then the sense\nmight be: after death the souls receive at once recompense for their\nactions--and _then_ follows the division of the bad 64 ff., and the\ngood 67 ff. But we may perhaps rest content with Mommsen's\nexplanation.]\n\n[36\\12: _O._ ii, 74.]\n\n[37\\12: Plu., _de Lat. Viv._ 7, p. 1130 C after citing the lines of\nPindar _fr._ 130 (95) adds: (the rivers of Erebos) ~decho/menoi kai\\\napokru/ptontes agnoi/a| kai\\ l\u00ea/th\u00ea| tou\\s koazome/nous~. This\n_might_ possibly be an addition made by Plu. on his own account--he\nhad frequently spoken of ~eis a/gnoian auto\\n embalei=n~, etc., in\nhis war against the Epicurean ~la/the bi\u00f4/sas~ and here the same\nthing appears again from Erebos. But the words are more probably a\nparaphrase from Pindar. At any rate, what is said in Plu. about the\n~_mn\u00ea=mai_ kai\\ lo/goi~ of the ~eusebei=s~ in clear contrast with\nthe _~l\u00ea/th\u00ea~_ of the ~asebei=s~, comes from Pindar: this is shown\nby the allusions of Aristid. i, p. 146, 1 Dind. From this parallel\nit is also clearly proved that the ~l\u00ea/th\u00ea~ does not refer (as\nLehrs, _Pop. Aufs._ 313 thinks) to the forgetfulness of the\n~kolazo/menoi~ in the minds of the living, but forgetfulness of\ntheir previous life by the ~kolazo/menoi~ themselves. Accordingly we\nare to suppose that Pindar assigns retention of memory and complete\nconsciousness only to the good in Hades, as their special privilege\n(cf. the position of Teiresias in ~k~ 494), while the punishment\n{444} of the wicked is enhanced by ~l\u00ea/th\u00ea~ (cf. above, chap. vii,\nn. 21 ). Not to have fallen a victim to ~l\u00ea/th\u00ea~ in Hades--not to\nhave drunk the waters of Lethe--is occasionally alluded to in\npoetico-religious utterances of later times as a special privilege\nof the good, e.g. _Epigr. Gr._ 204, 11 (first century B.C.); 414,\n10. ~L\u00ea/th\u00eas~ and ~Mn\u00eamosu/n\u00eas p\u00ea/g\u00ea~ in Hades (as in the sanctuary\nof Trophonios at Lebadea, Paus. 9, 39, 8); _Epigr._ 1037 (cf. above,\nchap. vii, n. 21; chap. xi, n. 96; and see also below).]\n\n[38\\12: ~toi=si la/mpei me/n me/nos aeli/ou ta\\n entha/de nu/kta\nka/t\u00f4~ _fr._ 129. In this naive conception, what Helios only\nthreatens to do in Homer, ~du/somai eis A\u00ef/dao kai\\ en neku/essi\nphaei/n\u00f4~, he does in reality and regularly during the earthly\nnight. The same idea must be referred to in _O._ ii, 61 ff., ~i/son\nde\\ nu/ktessin aiei\\ i/son en hame/rais ha/lion e/chontes~ (so\nBoeckh)--the ~esthloi/~ live in the ~ch\u00f4=ros euseb\u00f4=n~ in Hades:\nthey have by night and day the same sun (as we: the ~apone/steron~\nof 62 also implies this), that is to say, just as much of the sun as\nwe have on earth only in reverse order of time. The sun only shines\nupon the ~eusebei=s~ below; ~mo/nois ga\\r h\u00eami=n h\u00ea/lios kai\\\nphe/ggos hilaro/n esti~ sing the initiated in Hades in Ar., _Ran._\n454 f. (but it is the _same_ sun which shines upon them as shines on\nus, ~ph\u00f4=s ka/lliston h\u00f4/sper entha/de~ 155. solemque suum sua\nsidera norunt is a subtlety of later excogitation). Helios shining\nby night in Hades occurs again in the late Greek Hymn ~eis H\u00ea/lion~\n(_Orph._, p. 291 Ab.), v, 11, ~\u00ea\\n gai/\u00eas keuthm\u00f4=na mo/l\u00ea|s neku/\u00f4n\nt' epi\\ ch\u00f4=ron~. _Epigr. Gr._ 228b, 7-8, ~L\u00eatogene/s, su\\ de\\\npai=das en h\u00ear\u00f4/essi phula/ssois, _eusebe/\u00f4n aei\\ ch\u00f4=ron\nepercho/menos_~.]\n\n[39\\12: _O._ ii, 75 ff.]\n\n[40\\12: _fr._ 133 ~ena/t\u00f4| e/te\u00ef~. What is meant is beyond all\nquestion \"after the expiration of an _enna\u00ebteris_\" (period of 99\nmonths, i.e. 8 years and 3 intercalary months), a period which\nbesides being familiar as a cycle of religious festivals (Apolline\nspecially but not exclusively) also occurs in the ancient procedure\nof atonement for murder as the period of self-banishment and\nservitude in a foreign land undergone by the murderer. Apollo after\nslaying Python serves ~me/gan eis eniauto/n~ (i.e. an enna\u00ebteris) in\nthe house of Admetos (i.e. the god of the lower world) and then\nreturns purified (M\u00fcller, _Dorians_, i, 338); in the same way\nHerakles serves Eurystheus (at least a trace of this is found in\n[Apollod.] 2, 5, 11, 1; see M\u00fcller, _Dorians_, i, 445).--After the\nmurder of Iphitos Herakles has to serve as bondsman to Omphale\n(peculiar in this case is the combination of this species of\natonement for murder with the buying-off of the relatives of the\nmurdered man [Apollod.] 2, 6, 2, 5; D.S. 4, 31, 5). At the end of\nthis period of service he is once more \"pure\" (~hagno\\s \u00ea=n~ S.,\n_Trach._ 258).--Kadmos after slaying the dragon and the ~Spartoi/~\nserves Ares (the chthonic?) for an ~eniauto/s~ of eight years\n[Apollod.] 3, 4, 2, 1; M\u00fcller, _Orchomen._ 213.--Hippotes after the\nmurder of Mantis has to fly the country ~de/ka e/t\u00ea~ [Apollod.] 2,\n8, 3, 3.--On the analogy of this custom the gods, too, who have\nbroken an oath sworn by the Styx are banished nine years from the\nrest of the Olympians (and confined to Hades, since menial service\nof the ~chtho/nioi~ is the essential idea of all such\n~apeniautismo/s~), Hes., _Th._ 793 ff.: Orph. _fr._ 157. With a\nreminiscence of this expiatory banishment Pindar makes the souls at\nthe conclusion of their earthly pilgrimage (which is itself a\nbanishment) undergo a final period of penance in Hades for an\nenna\u00ebteris, at the end of which the ~poin\u00ea/~ for the ancient crime\nis regarded as completely paid off.--The life on earth and the\nperiod in Hades which follows is regarded as an exile of the souls\n(on account of serious crime).--Such an idea was most natural if the\nreal home of the soul was thought of as being {445} a divine (not\nearthly) country; the idea occurs quite clearly in Empedokles\n(certainly uninfluenced by the brief allusions of Pindar); see\nabove, chap. xi, n. 75.]\n\n[41\\12: _fr._ 133. The similarity to the promises made by Emped.\n_fr._ 146 (457 f.) is immediately apparent, but is not to be\nexplained by imitation of Pindar by Emped., but simply by the\nsimilarity of imaginative outlook which led to similar results in\nthe two cases.--Elevation to the rank of Hero is the reward which\nnext awaits the man who is born a king, according to this view. Very\nremarkable is the manner in which Pindar, _O._ ii, 58-62, effects\nthe transition to his eschatological statement: the man who\npossesses ~plou=tos aretai=s dedaidalme/nos~ knows the future, viz,\nwhat we are then told about the fate of the soul hereafter. This\nassertion, which seems to attribute to the virtuous Great Man at\nonce a higher and a profounder knowledge, is perhaps best explained\nby the allusions of _fr._ 133. He who has reached this highest stage\nof earthly happiness must deduce from that very circumstance that\nfor him now it is fated after another death to become a Hero. He\ntherefore knows that everything, indeed, happens that is related in\nll. 63-74, but that before him in particular lies that which follows\nin ll. 75 ff.; and this is to be regarded as the real import of what\nthe man in question \"knows\", 62, while the rest, 63-74, is only\nadded for the sake of completeness. Theron, therefore--for it is he\nwho is alluded to throughout--may be assured beforehand that after\ndeath he will be gathered to the Heroes. This is what Pindar means\nto say here, or at least to give the ~sunetoi/~ to understand 91 ff.\nAs a matter of historical fact Theron was worshipped with ~h\u00ear\u00f4\u00efkai\\\ntimai/~ after his death, D.S. xi, 53, 2.]\n\n[42\\12: _fr._ 133. There is according to Dissen a contradiction\nbetween _fr._ 133 and _O._ ii, 75 ff.: in the latter three periods\nof life on earth are necessary before the final departure, in _fr._\n133 only two. This variation would be got rid of if we could adopt\nthe interpretation given by Ty. Mommsen, _adnot. crit. Olymp._ 30,\nand assert that in _O._ ii also Pindar only speaks of two earthly\nlives with a single residence in Hades intervening. But the words\n~es tri\\s hekate/r\u00f4thi mei/nantes~, 75-6, can hardly bear any other\ninterpretation than \"three times on each of the two sides\" (not: \"on\nboth sides--once on that side, twice on this side: total three\ntimes\"). At the same time there is nothing in _fr._ 133 to prevent\nus taking the same number of lives (three as a minimum) to be\nimplied there too. We are not there told that the birth as kings,\netc., must always be the one to follow the first birth: in this case\nalso two earlier lives may have gone before.]\n\n[43\\12: See above, chap. iv, \u00a7 8.]\n\n[44\\12: ~e/teilan Dio\\s hodo\\n para\\ Kro/nou tu/rsin~, _O._ ii, 77.\nWhat exactly is to be understood by the \"way of Zeus\" was presumably\nclearer to the ~sunetoi/~ versed in the mythology of mysticism for\nwhom Pindar is here writing, than it is to us. It must mean (as\nBoeckh supposes) the way which Zeus treads in order to reach that\nIsland, far to the West in Okeanos, inaccessible as the Land of the\nHyperboreans to ship or traveller on foot; it is a special\n~athana/t\u00f4n hodo/s~ like that which leads to Homer's grotto of the\nNymphs, ~n~ 112. Acc. to Bergk, _Opusc._ ii, 708, it is \"certain\"\nthat Pindar means the Milky Way. Along this the gods travel to the\nhouse of Zeus, Ovid, _M._ i, 168; and Orpheus in the same way _fr._\n123, 17 Ab., speaks of the ~the\u00f4=n hodoi\\ ourani\u00f4/n\u00f4n~ in the\nheavens. But the souls could only be made to travel along the Milky\nWay if their habitation was placed in the sky as it often was later.\nSo, as Bergk points out, following Lob., _Agl._ 935, {446} the\nEmpedotimos of Herakld. Pont. calls the Milky Way ~hodo\\s psuch\u00f4=n\nt\u00f4=n ha=|d\u00ean to\\n en oura/n\u00f4| diaporeuome/n\u00f4n~ ap. Philop. in\nArist., _Mete._, p. 117, 10 Hayd.; see above, chap. ix, n. 111. But\nPindar situates his ~maka/r\u00f4n n\u00ea=sos~ in the Ocean (78): it is\ndifficult to see how the souls could arrive there on the Milky Way\nfrom the place where they find themselves after death. (We may\nsurely acquit Pindar of the later fancies about an Okeanos in the\nheavens.) Q.S. iii, 761 ff. (cited by Tafel) knows of a special way\nbelonging to the gods which leads from heaven down to the ~\u00calu/sion\npedi/on~. But the way by which the souls reach the ~maka/r\u00f4n n\u00ea=sos~\ndoes not, like that way, begin in heaven. We should rather think of\nsome way only passable for gods and spirits leading from the\ninhabited world over the pathless Ocean to the latter's \"sources\"\nfar in the West.]\n\n[45\\12: In _O._ ii, 84-5, it is certainly Kronos who is meant (as\nDidymos took it, though he gave an absurd interpretation of the\npassage) and not Zeus as Aristarchos imagined. The exceedingly\ncorrupt and (owing to the intrusion of glosses) unmetrical lines are\nbeyond certain restoration: the emendations of the Byzantine\nscholars give the required sense.--What happened to the incorrigibly\nwicked? In accordance with the theory of the soul's Transmigration\ntwo alternative views as to their fate were possible: they might be\nregarded as passing from body to body unceasingly (Empedokl.) or as\ndoing penance by suffering eternal punishment in Hell (as with Plato\nand others). The circumstances in which he alludes to these matters\ndo not give Pindar any special occasion to declare himself for\neither view. He has only to speak of the final condition of the\njust; the fate of the ~asebei=s~ is left in semi-obscurity.\nSomething about the matter is, however, said in _fr._ 132; ~psuchai\\\nasebe/\u00f4n~ hover under the vault of heaven that covers the earth\n(~gai/a|~ either corrupt or grammatically bad Greek), while the\npious above the vault of heaven (~epoura/nioi~) sing to the \"Great\nBlessed One\". Everything in this is un-Pindaric, the inadequacy and\neven incorrectness of the language (~molpai=s en hu/mnois~), the\nunconcealed monotheism of the phrase ~ma/kara me/gan~, the\nconception of the souls as having nothing else to do than sing to\nthe One God, the whole idea that these blessed ones dwell \"in\nheaven\". This last is an idea familiar to Greeks of a later period,\nnor is the division of souls into ~hupoura/nioi~ and ~epoura/nioi~\nunknown to them; cf. _Epigr. Gr._ 650, 9 ff. But Pindar cannot have\nwritten anything of the kind. It is even doubtful whether Clem. Al.\nwho, _Str._ iv, 640 P., names as the author of the lines ~to\\n\nmelopoio/n~, meant Pindar by the words: Theodoret. (_Gr. Aff. C._\nviii, 599 C), who attributes the second half of the frag. to Pindar,\nhad no other source but the same Clem. Al. But it may be doubted\nwhether the whole is to be attributed to any Greek of the older\nfaith. It has quite the appearance, as Zeller, _Socr. and\nSocratics_, p. 24, n. 3, strikingly suggests, of one of those\n_Jewish_ forgeries in which Jewish monotheism and the ideas\nconnected with it were to be fathered upon Greek antiquity. Welcker,\n_Kl. Schr._ v, 252 ff.; G\u00f6tterl._ i, 741 f., defends the _fr._ (and\nmost unconvincingly connects the ~psuchai\\ hupoura/nioi~ and\n~epoura/nioi~ of the _fr._ with the quite different ~dai/mones\nepichtho/nioi~ and ~hupochtho/nioi~ of Hes., _Op._ 123 and 141). He\nthinks he can defend the genuineness of the lines (which had already\nbeen declared spurious by Dissen) by pointing to the words of Horace\nabout Pindar's ~thr\u00ea=noi~ (_O._ iv, 2, 21): flebili sponsae iuvenem\nraptum plorat, et vires animumque moresque aureos educit in astra\nnigroque invidet Orco. Even supposing that this referred to the\ntransport of the souls to the stars the witness of Horace thus given\nwould only {447} remove a single difficulty from a passage that has\nother overwhelming difficulties in profusion. But Horace says\nnothing of the transport of the \"Soul\" to the heavenly regions,\n_vires_, _animus_, _mores_, all these together refer not at all to\nthe ~psuch\u00ea/~ but to the ~\u00ea=thos~ and the ~aretai/~ of the dead.\nPindar, Horace means, rescues the memory of the nature and merits of\nthe youth from decay: only the fame which the poet secures for him\nis under discussion. _educit in astra_ and _invidet Orco_ mean\nnothing more than: he rescues the memory of the dead from oblivion,\nexactly as in the epitaph quoted above, n. 20: ~houde\\ than\u00f4\\n\nareta=s o/num' \u00f4/lesas alla/ se Pha/ma kudai/nous' ana/gei d\u00f4/matos\nex A\u00ef/da~. Thus, it is least of all to be concluded from Horace's\nwords that Pindar transported the souls of the ~eusebei=s~ into the\nheavens (rather that in the ~thr\u00ea=noi~--as much as anywhere else:\nsee above, n. 25--Pindar sometimes only recognizes the immortality\nof fame: of that alone does Horace speak).]\n\n[46\\12: _O._ ii celebrates the victory which Theron had won at\nOlympia in _Ol._ 76, but was probably written some time after that\nvictory. Theron died _Ol._ 77, 1, or 76, 4.]\n\n[47\\12: Sicily was rich in cults of ~chtho/nioi~, in which Gelon,\nHieron and their ancestors were hierophants, Hdt. vii, 153; Pi.,\n_O._ vi, 95. So, too, Akragas the city of Theron (and the home of\nEmpedoldes which also is not without its importance) was\n~Phersepho/nas he/dos~, Pi., _P._ xii, 2, having been given by Zeus\nto Persephone on her marriage, Sch. Pi., _O._ ii, 16 (as also had,\nin addition to other cities, Pindar's native city Thebes, Euphorion,\n_fr._ 48; cf. Eur., _Phoen._ 684 ff. Theron's family traced its\ndescent from Eteokles the son of Oedipus). It is very possible that\nthe hopes of a blessed immortality of the soul such as were fostered\nin many ways in the cult of the ~chtho/nioi~ and particularly in\nthat of Persephone, should have been familiar to Theron from such a\ncult and attractive to him.]\n\n[48\\12: The theological character of much of Pindar's work makes\nknowledge of mystic doctrine not surprising in him. In _fr._ 137 he\nspeaks of the Eleusinia (to which he otherwise owes nothing). In\n_fr._ 131, though the words are unfortunately most corrupt and\nprobably contain lacunae as they have been transmitted, he speaks of\nthe \"releasing Initiations\", ~olbi/a d' ha/pantes ai=sa lusi/ponon\n_teleta/n_~--this is the form of the words required by the metre\n(dactylo-epitritic), and thus (not ~teleuta/n~) they appear in Plu.,\n_Cons. Apoll._ 35, p. 120 D, and also in cod. Vatic. 139 (which I\nhave collated).]\n\n[49\\12: _IG._ xiv = _IG. Sic. et It._, 641, 1-2-3. [Harrison-Murray,\n_Prolegom._ 661 ff.; _Vors._ 66 B, 18, 19.]--The inscription of the\noldest of these poems belongs to the fourth century B.C. The verses\ncan, however, be cited here because the original or rather the two\noriginals upon which the poems are modelled were older than the\noldest of the three surviving inscr. (which itself shows serious\ncorruption of the primitive text); and nothing prevents us from\nsupposing that the original forms of these verses go to the fifth\ncentury.--The common ancestor of versions 2 and 3 is not derived\nfrom version 1, even in the parts in which it agrees with that\nversion, but from a still older original.--Acc. to Dieterich,\n_Nekyia_ 128 f., 135 f., the lines are taken from a poem of\n_Orpheus'_ descent to Hades; but of this they themselves offer not\nthe slightest suggestion.]\n\n[50\\12: The feminine ~e/rchomai ek kathar\u00f4=n kathara/~--and also\n~nu=n d' hike/tis h\u00eak\u00f4~ (though this indeed is metrically impossible)\n_IG._ xiv, 641, 2, l. 6--refers probably to the ~psuch\u00ea/~ and not to\nthe sex of the dead person as though a woman were speaking in all\nthree cases. Moreover, in {448} No. 1, 9, Persephone speaks as\nthough to a man ~o/lbie kai\\ makariste/, theo\\s d' e/s\u00ea| anti\\\nbrotoi=o~.]\n\n[51\\12: l. 1, ~e/rchomai ek kathar\u00f4=n kathara/, chthoni/\u00f4n\nbasi/leia~. This is certainly the right punctuation (and is given by\nthe editors), and not Hofmann's ~ek kathar\u00f4=n, kathara\\ chth. b.~\n\"Pure and born of the pure\" (referring to the immediate parents of\nthe dead: more distant ancestry would be expressed by ~apo/~); cf.\n~ka/kistos kak kak\u00f4=n~, etc. (Nauck on Soph., _OT._ 1397; _Ph._\n874); ~agathoi\\ ex agath\u00f4=n o/ntes~, Andoc., _M._ 109.]\n\n[52\\12: The parents are ~katharoi/~, the soul of the dead\n~kathara/~, simply as being \"purified\", \"sanctified\", in ~teletai/~\nof the ~chtho/nioi~. In the same way, elsewhere, the Mystai are\n~ho/sioi~ \"the pure\": see above, chap. vi, n. 18.]\n\n[53\\12: ~kai\\ ga\\r eg\u00f4\\n hum\u00f4=n ge/nos o/lbion eu/chomai ei=men~--so\nin all three versions.]\n\n[54\\12: ~alla/ me moi=r' eda/masse kai\\ asterop\u00ea=ta keraun\u00f4=n~\n(particip.): so in the original to which the readings of three\nversions point, as restored by O. Hofmann in _GDI._ 1654.\n~asterobl\u00ea=ta~ is in No. 1--this might simply = ~asteropobl\u00ea=ta~,\nbut it may only have been substituted by mistake for ~asterop\u00ea=ta\n( = asterop\u00eat\u00ea/s~ of Homer). The line in this form occurs in No. 1,\n4. Versions 2 and 3 have ~_ei/te_ me moi=r' eda/mass' _ei/t'_\nastrop\u00ea=ta keraun\u00f4=n~. But the dead had no _choice_ between natural\ndeath (for this is what ~moi=ra~ must mean as contrasted with death\nby the thunderbolt) and death by being struck by lightning; one or\nother of the two (or more) forms of death must in actual fact have\noccurred. In this embarrassment--for death by lightning is not a\nvery frequent occurrence--the ancient verse was altered in such a\nway that it might refer also to one who had died a natural death.\nThe attempt was indeed not a great success. Originally death by\nlightning can alone have been mentioned (as in No. 1) and the\noriginal form of the lines must have referred to someone who had\nactually perished in this way. The dead person was then immediately\nregarded as sanctified simply on account of the method of his death;\nhe became a ~_hiero\\s_ nekro/s~ translated to a higher and continued\nlife: see above, chap. ix, n. 127, and Appendix i. This is the only\ninterpretation of the lines which gives any point to the\nintroduction here of this peculiar manner of death--one who has been\nthus translated out of life will certainly now be ~theo\\s anti\\\nbrotoi=o~.]\n\n[55\\12: ~ku/klos t\u00ea=s gene/se\u00f4s~, rota fati, etc. Lob., _Agl._ 798\nff.]\n\n[56\\12: ~himertou= d' epe/ban stepha/nou posi\\ karpali/moisi,\nDespoi/nas d' hupo\\ ko/lpon e/dun chthoni/as basilei/as~, No. 1,\n6-7. The ~ste/phanos~ will probably be the sacred precinct, the\nenclosure that surrounds the realm of Persephone, as Dieterich, _De\nhymn. Orph._ 35, very plausibly suggests.]\n\n[57\\12: See Appendix xi.]\n\n[58\\12: ~h\u00f4/s me pro/phr\u00f4n pe/mps\u00ea| he/dras es euage/\u00f4n~. The\n~he/drai euage/\u00f4n~ correspond to the ~ch\u00f4=ros euseb\u00f4=n~ of other\npoets and mythologists. But the strange phrase does also contain an\nallusion to the fact that this paradise of the \"pure\" is specially\nreserved for the initiates of the mysteries. The ~euag\u00ea/s~, the man\nuntouched by any ~a/gos~, is ~ho/sios (ho/sios e/st\u00f4 kai\\ euag\u00ea/s~\nlaw ap. And., _M._ 96): ~euagei=n = hosiou=n~ in an ins. from\nIalysos in Rhodes, _IGM. Aeg._ i, 677. Ordinary non-religious\nlanguage also preserves the original meaning of the word: it\nfrequently means (in contrast to ~skot\u00f4/d\u00eas~ and the like) \"bright,\npure, clean\" (and in places, too, where it is customary to insert\nwithout good reason ~euaug\u00ea/s~, following the ex. of Hemsterh. on\nEur., _Suppl._ 662).]\n\n[59\\12: The similarity with the stages of the reward given to the\ngood in Pindar is obvious: ~ch\u00f4=ros euseb\u00f4=n~ in Hades; then and not\ntill then {449} escape from the underworld and from human life as\nwell. The only difference is that in Pi. the soul's final end is to\nbecome a ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~ while here it becomes ~theo/s~.]\n\n[60\\12: _IG._ xiv, 642.]\n\n[61\\12: id. 641, 1, v, 10, ~e/riphos es ga/l' e/peton~. 642, 4,\n~theo\\s ege/nou ex anthr\u00f4/pou. e/riphos es ga/la e/petes~. The\nconjunction of the two phrases in 642 shows that \"As a kid I fell\ninto the milk\" is a condition of \"I became a God\". We may certainly\nrecognize in the phrase a ~su/nth\u00eama~ or ~su/mbolon~ of the Mystai\nlike those usual in other secret initiatory rites--~ek tumpa/nou\nephagon ktl.~, Lob. 23 ff.--which refer to performance of symbolical\nactions in the initiation ceremonies. The precise sense of _this_\n~su/nth\u00eama~ cannot be made out (Dieterich's efforts, _H. Orph._, p.\n35, have not succeeded in clearing up the matter).]\n\n[62\\12: Worth remarking is the instruction ~all' hopo/tam' psuch\u00ea\\\nproli/p\u00ea| pha/os aeli/oio, _dexio\\n_ eisie/nai pephulagme/nos eu=\nma/la pa/nta~ (this or something like it may have been the original\nform of the lines which have been thrown into confusion by the\nintrusion of the explanatory words ~dei= tina~). Then at the\nconclusion ~(\u00f4=) chai=re chai=re, dexia\\n hodoipor\u00f4=n leim\u00f4=na/s te\nhierou\\s kai\\ a/lsea Phersephonei/as.~ (~kai/~: this and nothing\nelse is probably concealed by the KAT of the inscription--~kai/~\nlong before a vowel in 3rd thesis is even in Homer not unheard of.)\nHere at a comparatively early date we meet with the legend of the\nTwo Ways at the entrance to the underworld, of which that to the\nright leads to the ~ch\u00f4=ros euseb\u00f4=n~, the left to the place of\npunishment of the ~a/dikoi~. It may derive from the fancies of South\nItalian mystic sects. ~dexio/n~ and ~aristero/n~ in the Pythagorean\ntable of Opposites--and in _oionistike_ for a long time before\nthat--mean the same as ~agatho/n~ and ~kako/n~ (Arist., _Metaph._ 1,\n5, p. 986a, 24; cf. Iamb., _VP._ 156).--The ~U~ Pythagoreum denoted\nthe parting of the ways of life to the right (to virtue) and to the\nleft (vice): Serv., _A._ vi, 136; cf. O. Jahn, _Pers._, p. 155 f.\nPlato transferred the Two Ways to the underworld probably following\nPythagorean example, _Rp._ 614 C; cf. ~t\u00f4\\ hod\u00f4/~, _Gorg._ 524 A;\n_divorso itinere_, Cato ap. Sall., _C._ 52, 13, in a Platonist\npassage. To the right the fountain of Mnemosyne, to the left that of\nLethe--grave-tablet from Petelia: _Epigr. Gr._ 1037 = _IG._ xiv.\n638. The Two Ways in the underworld (of which that to the right hand\nregularly leads to salvation) are also spoken of by the ~po\u00eat\u00ea/s~\nwhose lines are quoted by Hippol., _RH._ 5, 8, p. 164, 80 D.-S.\n(perhaps \"Orpheus\" as Dieterich, _Nek._ 193 thinks); cf. also Verg.,\n_A._ vi, 540 ff., Hegesipp., _AP._ vii, 545, and the Jewish forgery\nunder the name of Philem., Mein. 4, 67, 6 f. (ii, p. 539\nK.).--_Three_ Ways in the world of the spirits, which he takes as\nbeing in the sky, are seen by the Empedotimos of Herakld. Pont. (see\nabove, chap. ix, n. 111): Serv., _G._ i, 34. Plutarch also alludes\nto _three_ Ways in the underworld, _Lat. Viv._ vii, p. 1130, for in\ngiving his quotation from Pindar's ~thr\u00ea=nos~ _fr._ 129-30 he\nsuddenly, without having previously said anything about the other\ntwo Ways, speaks of the ~_tri/t\u00ea_ t\u00f4=n anosi/\u00f4s bebi\u00f4ko/t\u00f4n kai\\\npara/nom\u00f4n _hodo/s_~ which leads into Erebos. We should suppose that\nhe found these three Ways in Pindar whom he is making use of\nthroughout the passage. Three Ways would seem natural to one who\nknew of three classes of souls; the ~eusebei=s~ and the ~asebei=s~\nhaving in between them those who have not strayed seriously from\neither side of the middle way of ordinary morality and deserve\nneither reward nor severe punishment. To these then was probably\nallotted, instead of the bliss or sorrow of the two other classes,\nthe indifferent state of the Homeric ~ei/d\u00f4la kamo/nt\u00f4n~. So at\nleast it appears from Lucian, _Luct._ 7-9. A similar triple {450}\ndivision occurs in a popular form ap. D.H. viii, 52 ad fin.: (1) a\nplace of punishment, a kind of Tartaros: (2) ~to\\ l\u00ea/th\u00eas pedi/on~\n(which is here the indifferent state); (3) the ~aith\u00ea/r~ which is the\ndwelling-place of the Blessed. Verg., too, has three classes, but he\nplaces the middling characters in the _limbus infantium_, beyond\nwhich the road first divides towards Elysium and Tartarus. Did\nPindar then anticipate these and incidentally--he need not have been\nlogically consistent about it--introduce such a triple division of\nthe souls?]\n\n[63\\12: Plato's violent attacks on poets and poetry--in which\nnevertheless acc. to his own account ~oude\\n spoud\u00ea=s chari/n, alla\\\npaidia=s he/neka pa/nta dra=tai~--show once more clearly enough that\nin his time the old Greek view of the poets as the true _teachers_\nof their age was by no means a thing of the past. It was precisely\nas teachers, whether rightly or wrongly so regarded, that they\nseemed to him dangerous and worth opposing.]\n\n[64\\12: Aristophanes is only formulating popular opinion--and in\nunusually naive language--when he says _Ran._ 1030 ~tau=ta ga\\r\na/ndras chr\u00ea\\ poi\u00eata\\s askei=n; ske/psai ga\\r ap' arch\u00ea=s h\u00f4s\n_\u00f4phe/limoi_ t\u00f4=n poi\u00eat\u00f4=n hoi gennai=oi gege/n\u00eantai ktl.~ And again\n1053 ff. where he is referring particularly to tragic dramatists,\n~apokru/ptein chr\u00ea\\ to\\ pon\u00earo\\n to/n ge poi\u00eat\u00ea/n, kai\\ m\u00ea\\\npara/gein m\u00eade\\ dida/skein. toi=s me\\n ga\\r paidari/oisin e/sti\ndida/skalos ho/stis phra/zei, toi=s h\u00eab\u00f4=sin de\\ poi\u00eatai/~.]\n\n[65\\12: This idea is alluded to as early as ~D~ 160 ff. Then Hes.,\n_Op._ 282 ff. It is established for Hdt.; cf. i, 91, vi, 86. Further\nexamples collected by N\u00e4gelsbach, _Nachhom. Theol._ 34 f. Thgn. 205\nff., 731 ff., is particularly definite. Among Attic authors; cf.\nSol., _fr._ 13, 29 (~_anai/tioi_ e/rga ti/nousin~); E., _Hipp._ 831\nff., 1378 ff. (where note ~to\\n oude\\n o/nt' epai/tion~), _fr._ 980;\n[Lys.] 6, 20; Lycurg. 79. It is briefly alluded to as a commonly\nheld opinion by Isoc. 11, 25; cf. Lys., _fr._ 53 Th. The case of\nDiagoras of Melos the ~a/theos~ may also be remembered; cf. above,\nchap. vii, n. 16.--This idea of the punishment of the son for the\ndeeds of the father receives its justification acc. to Plu., _Ser.\nNu. Vi._ 16, 559 D (quite in accordance with primitive ideas) in the\nunity that belongs to all the members of the same ~ge/nos~--so that\nin the person of the son it is the father himself, though he may be\ndead, who is also punished. The idea arises from the deeply\ningrained feeling of the unity, solidarity, and continuity of the\nancient family cult-circle pre-supposed by the cult of souls. (This\nis primitive and meets us, e.g. in India as well: \"release us from\nthe wrongs that our fathers have done; take away the sins of that we\nourselves have committed\" is the prayer to Varuna in the Rigveda, 7,\n86, 5. ~ta\\ ek prote/r\u00f4n aplak\u00ea/mata~ are transferred also to the\nnext generation \"like a pestilence-breeding substance\", Oldenberg,\n_Rel. d. V._ 289. Elsewhere the conception emerges that the guilty\nancestor lives again in the descendant and is punished in his\nperson: Robinsohn, _Psychol. d. Naturv._ 47.)]\n\n[66\\12: It is precisely on this point, namely, that evil does not\nbefall men without their own fault, that the Chorus, i.e. the poet,\nof the _Agamemnon_ (757), acknowledges ~di/cha d' a/ll\u00f4n mono/phr\u00f4n\neimi/~.]\n\n[67\\12: In this way, too, the Stoics saved the responsibility of men\nfor their own deeds in spite of the unavoidable ~eimarme/n\u00ea~. The\ndeeds would not have come to fruition if the personal\n~sugkata/thesis~ of the man had not been added to the original\nnecessary cause conditioning the acts. The ~sugk.~, though not\nitself \"free\", yet always remains ~eph' h\u00eami=n~ and makes us\nresponsible: Cic., _Fat._ 18; Nemes. _Nat. Hom._, p. 291 Matth.]\n{451}\n\n[68\\12: Clearly so from l. 689 onwards.]\n\n[69\\12: ~ta\\ ga\\r ek prote/r\u00f4n aplak\u00ea/mata/ nin pro\\s ta/sd' (ta\\s\nErinu/as) apa/gei~, _Eum._ 934.]\n\n[70\\12: Only when Eteokles and Polyneikes have fallen in single\ncombat ~e/l\u00eaxe dai/m\u00f4n~, _Sept._ 956.]\n\n[71\\12: This idea is quite common in Homer (N\u00e4gelsbach, _Hom.\nTheol._ 70 f., 320 f.), and in later times reappears frequently in\nthe case of such authors as always, or on occasion, express popular\nideas: Thgn. Hdt. esp. Eur. (cf. _Fr. Trag. Adesp._ 4, 55 N.), and\nthe orators: see N\u00e4gelsbach, _Nachhom. Th._ 54 ff., 332 f., 378.]\n\n[72\\12: ~apa/t\u00eas _dikai/as_ ouk apostatei= theo/s~, _fr._ 301 S.\nThis, too, must be the meaning of other expressions in which the\npoet refers less plainly to the righteous purpose of divine\ndeception: _Pers._ 93 ff., 742; _frr._ 156, 302 (cf. also _Suppl._\n403 f.).--Aristoph. makes his Clouds speak quite in accordance with\nthe Aeschylean ideas, _Nub._ 1458 ff. This grim idea must, in fact,\nhave had considerable success and spread beyond the stage. Falsehood\nand deception for a good end presented no difficulty to the mind of\nthe Greeks (even as applied to their gods). Hence Sokrates (in\nXen.), Plato, and certain Stoics could quite openly approve of and\nrecommend such falsehoods (and the author of the ~Diale/xeis~, c. 3\nin defending the same theory also appeals to the lines of Aesch.).]\n\n[73\\12: _Ag._ 1497-1508. Here there is a clear opposition between\nthe popular view which attributed all guilt to an ~ala/st\u00f4r~\ntempting to crime (a reminiscence of which appears in Soph., _El._\n197 ff.), and the more elevated conception of the poet who holds\nfast to the view that though the ~ala/st\u00f4r~ may contribute to the\nresult the agent of the evil deed is not ~anai/tios~.]\n\n[74\\12: The dead man stands in need of the cult paid by his\nsurviving kinsfolk, _Cho._ 484 (his grave a ~b\u00f4mo/s~, _Cho._ 106;\n~choai\\ gam\u00ea/lioi~ for him, 486 f.). As an appeasement of his easily\naroused wrath ~choai\\ nerte/r\u00f4n meili/gmata~, _Cho._ 15. The dead\nman is still conscious of events both past and present upon earth:\n~phro/n\u00eama tou= thano/ntos ou dama/zei puro\\s malera\\ gna/thos~,\n_Cho._ 324 f. In the song of awakening addressed to the departed and\nthe invocations sung by Electra and the Chorus in _Cho._ the soul of\nAgamem. is similarly regarded as fully alive and accessible to the\ncallers (though, indeed, ~ex amaura=s phreno/s~ 157) and addressed\naccordingly (cf. 139, 147 f., 156 f., 479 ff.; _Pers._ 636). It is\neven expected that his soul, invisibly present in the upper world,\nwill take an active share in the work of vengeance: ~a/kouson es\npha/os mol\u00f4/n, xu\\n de\\ genou= pro\\s echthrou/s~, _Cho._ 459; cf.\n489. So, too, Orestes, _Eum._ 598, hopes in his extremity of need\nthat ~ar\u00f4ga\\s ek ta/phou pe/mpsei pat\u00ea/r~. More especially the\nmurdered man has a right to be avenged by his ~agchistei=s (oud' ap'\na/ll\u00f4n~, _Cho._ 472) and Apollo himself has commanded Orestes to\ntake such vengeance, _Cho._ 269 ff., etc. Dread results of\nneglecting this duty, _Cho._ 278-96 (possibly an interpolated\npassage, but still an extension of the words of A. himself 271 ff.\nin a sense thoroughly in consonance with popular belief).]\n\n[75\\12: The Erinyes only avenge the murder of a blood-relation and\nnot therefore when one of a married pair is murdered by the other,\n_Eum._ 210-12, 604 ff. But the opinion emerges that they are\nparticularly charged with the vengeance of a _mother_ who has been\nmurdered by her son (rather than a father who has suffered the same\nfate), 658 ff., 736 ff. (Reminiscences of such a view in S., _El._\n341 ff., 352 ff.; E., _Orest._ 552 ff., _fr._ 1064.) This may\npossibly be an old popular belief (not fully understood by A.\nhimself) which need not, however (as is often {452} supposed),\ndepend upon an ancient system of \"matriarchy\" for which there is no\nother evidence in Greece. It is simply explained by the fact that\nthe father has plenty of men still living among his kinsfolk who\nwill avenge him (even against his own son), whereas the mother who\nis separated from her _own_ family can expect no avenger from that\nside, while in the family of her husband there will be nobody yet\nold enough to take vengeance on her own son. For this reason it is\nfor her most particularly and necessarily that the daimonic avengers\nof murder must intervene, and they are the Erinyes, who are always\nthought of as only active where no earthly avenger is available.--Of\ncourse, it could never be denied that there exists also ~_patro\\s_\neuktai/an Erinu/n~, _Sep._ 783.]\n\n[76\\12: ~dai/m\u00f4n, theo/s, di=os ana/kt\u00f4r, isodai/m\u00f4n basileu/s~ are\ntitles given only to the dead Persian king, _Pers._ 620, 633, 644,\n651. They are, however, probably intended to characterize Persian\nand not Greek beliefs (the Greek king, too, is still a king in\nHades, but not a ~dai/m\u00f4n~, _Cho._ 355-62).]\n\n[77\\12: ~kakei= dika/zei tamplak\u00ea/math', h\u00f4s _lo/gos_, Zeu\\s a/llos~\n(cf. ~Z\u00ea=na t\u00f4=n kekm\u00eako/t\u00f4n~ 158) ~en kamou=sin husta/tas di/kas~,\n_Suppl._ 230 f.; cf. 414 ff.--~me/gas ga\\r Ha/id\u00eas esti\\n eu/thunos\nbrot\u00f4=n e/nerthe chtho/nos, deltogra/ph\u00f4| de\\ pa/nt' ep\u00f4pa=|\nphreni/~, _Eum._ 273 ff. Not even in Hades do the Erinyes let the\nmurderer go, _Eum._ 340. The punishment in Hades seems to be\nregarded as merely supplementary to the (perhaps delayed) punishment\nof crime on earth ~rhop\u00ea\\ d' episkopei= di/kas tachei=a _tou\\s me\\n_\nen pha/ei, ta\\ d' en metaichmi/\u00f4| sko/tou me/nei chroni/zontas\na/ch\u00ea, tou\\s d' a/kratos e/chei nu/x~, _Cho._ 61 ff.]\n\n[78\\12: ~tou\\s thano/ntas ei the/leis euergetei=n ei/t' ou=n\nkakourgei=n, amphidexi/\u00f4s e/chei t\u00f4=| m\u00ea/te chai/rein m\u00ea/te\nlupei=sthai nekrou/s~, _fr_ 266. This does, not, however, agree with\n_Cho._ 324 f., or with the frequently occurring expressions which\npresuppose consciousness and feeling (and so also ~chai/rein~ and\n~lupei=sthai~) in the dead. Consistency in such matters must not, in\nfact, be looked for in a non-theological poet. The ~psuch\u00ea/~ of the\ndead man a shadow without the sap of life, _fr._ 229. Death a refuge\nfrom earthly suffering, _fr._ 255. The speedy death which the Chorus\nwish for themselves, _Ag._ 1449 ff., brings with it ~to\\n aei\\\nate/leuton hu/pnon~ and therefore a condition of unconsciousness if\nnot of complete nothingness.--The shadow of Dareios takes his leave\nof the Persian nobles in the foll. words: ~humei=s de/, pre/sbeis,\nchai/ret', en kakoi=s ho/m\u00f4s psuch\u00ea\\n dido/ntes h\u00eadon\u00ea=| kath'\nh\u00eame/ran, h\u00f4s toi=s thanou=si plou=tos oude\\n \u00f4phelei=~, _Pers._ 840\nff. This view of life is perhaps intended to have an Oriental\ncolouring (like the epitaph of Sardanapalus which is rightly quoted\nin illustration of this passage); the reason given ~h\u00f4s toi=s\nthanou=si ktl.~ is perhaps to be similarly explained.]\n\n[79\\12: ~_e/ndikoi_ sphagai/~, 37. Orestes is to his father's house\n~_di/k\u00ea|_ kathart\u00ea\\s pro\\s the\u00f4=n h\u00f4rm\u00eame/nos~ 70.]\n\n[80\\12: One reason why no Erinys pursues Orestes after he has\nmurdered his mother is, indeed, the fact that Sophokles is treating\nthe \"Elektra\" in isolation as an independent drama and could not\ntherefore introduce a fresh thread of interest at the end, if he was\nto bring it to a satisfactory conclusion. But the mere fact that he\ncould so arrange matters shows that for him, in contrast with\nAeschylus, the belief in the veritable reality of the Erinys and the\nnecessary perpetuation of the idea of vengeance in the family was\nalready obscured and almost obsolete. The ancient family blood-feud\nis less important to him than the rights of the separate and\nindependent individual.]\n\n[81\\12: Casual allusions, _El._ 504 ff.; _OC._ 965; _Ant._ 856; and\ncf. 584 ff., 594 ff.] {453}\n\n[82\\12: ~ou ga\\r i/dois a\\n athr\u00f4=n broto\\n ho/stis a\\n, ei theo\\s\na/goi, ekphugei=n du/naito~, _O.C._ 252. ~ho/tan de/ tis the\u00f4=n\nbla/pt\u00ea|, du/nait' a\\n oud' a\\n ho sthe/n\u00f4n phugei=n~, _El._ 696 f.\n~ai/sch\u00ea me/n, \u00f4= gunai=kes, oud' a\\n hei=s phu/goi brot\u00f4=n poth'\nh\u00f4=| kai\\ Zeu\\s~ (as the one who rules and ordains everything, cf.\n_El._ 175; _O.C._ 1085) ~ephorm\u00ea/s\u00ea| kaka/; no/sous d' ana/gk\u00ea ta\\s\nthe\u00eala/tous phe/rein~, _fr._ 619 N.]\n\n[83\\12: _Phil._ 191-200.]\n\n[84\\12: It is fixed long before by an oracle: 821 ff.; 1159 ff. It\nis not exactly overpowering violence or heaven-sent madness that\ndrives Deianeira to carry out the prophecy; it is rather an obscure\nforce that transforms her purest intentions to an evil result. She\nherself is completely innocent: ~h\u00ea/marte chr\u00easta\\ m\u00f4me/n\u00ea~.]\n\n[85\\12: The reason for this will of the gods is not revealed to us,\neither in _OT._ or in the subsequent treatment given in _OC._ The\nonly thing that is made quite clear there is the complete innocence\nof Oedipus; as to the meaning of the divine purpose that has plunged\nhim into such deeds of horror the sufferer can only say ~theoi=s\nga\\r \u00ea=n hou/t\u00f4 phi/lon, ta/ch' a/n ti _m\u00eani/ousin_ eis ge/nos\npa/lai~ (964 f.). This is a passage in which modern interpretation\nof the ancients finds the \"upholding of the moral order in the\nworld\" clearly expressed as a motive of divine will.]\n\n[86\\12: ~kai\\ ga\\r \u00ea=n t\u00f4=n theosebesta/t\u00f4n~, Sch., _El._ 831.]\n\n[87\\12: _fr._ 226 N., ~sopho\\s ga\\r oudei\\s pl\u00ea\\n ho\\n a\\n tima=|\ntheo/s. all' eis theo/n s' hor\u00f4=ta, ka\\n _e/x\u00f4 di/k\u00eas ch\u00f4rei=n\nkeleu/\u00ea|_, kei=s' hodoiporei=n chre\u00f4/n. aischro\\n ga\\r oude\\n h\u00f4=n\nhuph\u00eagou=ntai theoi/~.]\n\n[88\\12: Aias has angered the goddess because he has boasted that he\ncould do without her help. Thus he has drawn upon himself\n~_asterg\u00ea=_ thea=s org\u00ea/n~, 776. The goddess makes him insane that\nhe may recognize ~t\u00ea\\n the\u00f4=n ischu\\n **ho/s\u00ea~, 118. Thus, her\nsuperior power is shown and the folly of men who despise that power.\nBut as for showing that the revengeful act of the goddess has any\nsort of moral purpose or meaning behind it, the pious poet makes no\nsuch attempt.--The interpolation of ideas more familiar in modern\ntimes does not make it any easier to understand the peculiar\ncharacter of such antique ~euse/beia~ and ~deisidaimoni/a~. The same\nkind of fearful awe of the gods which we find here, runs through the\nwhole of Herodotos' historical writing (Hdt. was not without reason\na friend of Sophokles) and meets us again in the character of Nikias\nand to a large extent in Xenophon, too. Thuc. and, on the whole,\nEurip. (for he varies) calmly ignore it or else violently reject it.\nIts nature is shown (better than in the more usual ~euse/beia~) by\nthe phrase ~h\u00ea pro\\s tou\\s theou\\s _eula/beia_~ which also occurs:\n[D.] 59 (_Neaer._) 74.]\n\n[89\\12: _Trach._ 1266 f.; 1272 (where, however, there remains a\nsuspicion that the traditional text may be unsound); _fr._ 103 N.\nParallels occur also in _Phil._]\n\n[90\\12: There exists a region of divine mystery that is not to be\nfathomed: ~ou ga\\r a\\n ta\\ thei=a krupto/nt\u00f4n the\u00f4=n ma/thois a/n,\noud' ei pa/nt' epexe/lthois skop\u00f4=n~, _fr._ 833; cf. _OT._ 280 f.\nand ~polla\\ kai\\ lathei=n kalo/n~, _fr._ 80 N.]\n\n[91\\12: The behaviour of Athene in the prologue of the _Aias_ is an\nexception.]\n\n[92\\12: Odysseus beholding the insane Aias: ~epoikti/r\u00f4 de/ nin\ndu/st\u00eanon o/nta kai/per o/nta dusmen\u00ea=, hothou/nek' a/t\u00ea|\nsugkate/zeuktai kak\u00ea=|, oude\\n to\\ tou/tou ma=llon \u00ea\\ toumo\\n\nskop\u00f4=n; hor\u00f4= ga\\r h\u00eama=s oude\\n o/ntas a/llo pl\u00ea\\n ei/d\u00f4l'\nho/soiper z\u00f4=men, \u00ea\\ kou/ph\u00ean skia/n~, _Ai._ 121 ff.]\n\n[93\\12: ~i\u00f4\\ geneai\\ brot\u00f4=n ktl.~ _OT._ 1186 ff.; ~ho/stis tou=\nple/onos me/rous chr\u00ea/|zei . . .~ _OC._ 1211-38; cf. _frr._ 12, 535,\n536, 588, 859, 860.]\n\n[94\\12: Nor is Antigone affected by such motives as might appear\nfrom a casual or isolated study of such lines as _Ant._ 73 ff. The\nwhole play {454} shows that Antig. throughout follows the ~a/grapta\nkasphal\u00ea= the\u00f4=n no/mima~ and the instincts of her own nature,\nwithout paying any attention to what may happen to her on earth and\nwithout a side glance at what may be the result in the world below\nof her \"pious crime\".]\n\n[95\\12: We often have ~en Ha/idou kekeutho/t\u00f4n~ (_Ant._ 911)\n~muchou\\s kichei=n tou= ka/t\u00f4 theou=~ (_Ai._ 571) and other phrases\n= \"be dead\" (cf. to be an ~oik\u00ea/t\u00f4r~ of Erebos, _Ai._ 395 ff. Hades\nseems to be called ~pando/kos xeno/stasis~ _fr._ 252). The confusion\nof the idea of a kingdom of Hades with that of the grave is shown in\nthe not infrequent expression ~en Ha/idou, par' Ha/id\u00ea|\n_kei=sthai_~, _El._ 463; _OT._ 972; _Ph._ 861; ~phi/l\u00ea met' autou=\n_kei/somai_ phi/lou me/ta~, _Ant._ 73; cf. _fr._ 518.]\n\n[96\\12: ~to\\n apo/tropon Ha/idan~, _Ai._ 608; _fr._ 518.]\n\n[97\\12: The dead man is a ~skia/~, _Ai._ 1231. ~spodo\\s kai\\ skia\\\nan\u00f4phel\u00ea/s~, _El._ 1159a. ~m\u00eade/n~, _El._ 1166; _Ai._ 1231.--In\nspite of this, in the Homeric manner, a definite shape and a measure\nof semi-conscious existence is presumed in the shades in Hades:\n_OT._ 1371 ff.--Doubt: ~_ei/_ tis e/st' ekei= cha/ris~, _El._ 356.]\n\n[98\\12: ~thano/nt\u00f4n oude\\n a/lgos a/ptetai~, _OC._ 955. ~toi=s ga\\r\nthanou=si mo/chthos ou prosgi/gnetai~, _Tr._ 1173. ~tou\\s ga\\r\nthano/ntas ouch hor\u00f4= lupoume/nous~, _El._ 1170. (All three lines\nare denied to Soph. by the latest criticism.)]\n\n[99\\12: _Ph._ 797 f.; _Ai._ 854; _OC._ 1220 ff.; _fr._ 631 (cf. A.,\n_fr._ 255; _Fr. Tr. Adesp._ 360. ~lim\u00ea\\n kak\u00f4=n ho tha/natos~, a\ncommonplace of later moralists: see Wyttenb. Plu., _Mor._ vi, p.\n720, was taken over from tragedy).--The converse _fr._ 64, 275.]\n\n[100\\12: Collectively ~hoi ne/rteroi, hoi ne/rteroi theoi/~, _OC._\n1661; _Ant._ 602. Hades in particular is often mentioned, and also\n~Plou/t\u00f4n~: ~Ha/id\u00eas stenagmoi=s kai\\ go/ois plouti/zetai~, _OT._\n30; _fr._ 251. ~ho para\\ to\\n Ache/ronta (ta\\n Ache/rontos akta/n~,\n_Ant._ 812. ~akta\\n hespe/rou theou=~, _OT._ 177) ~theo\\s ana/ss\u00f4n~,\n_El._ 184. Persephone and Aidoneus, _OC._ 1556 ff. Erinyes,\nThanatos, Kerberos: _OC._ 1568 ff. ~pompai=os Herm\u00ea=s chtho/nios~,\n_Ai._ 832; and see _El._ 110 B., etc.--~Ha/id\u00eas~ (here as often =\n~Tha/natos~) desires to devour men: ~dai/sasthai~, _El._ 542, f.--a\npopular conception or at least popular language: see above, chap.\nvii, n. 25.]\n\n[101\\12: Hades ~ho\\s ou/te tou\\pieike\\s ou/te t\u00ea\\n cha/rin oi=den,\nmon\u00ea\\n d' e/sterxe t\u00ea\\n hapl\u00f4s di/k\u00ean~, _fr._ 703, i.e. the justice\nof absolute equality (for all earthly distinctions have passed\naway): ~ho/ g' Ha/id\u00eas tou\\s no/mous i/sous pothei=~, _Ant._ 519.]\n\n[102\\12: ~h\u00ea ga\\r euse/beia sunthn\u00ea/|skei brotoi=s~ (it dies when\nthe man dies to whom it belonged: i.e. it follows him, or his\n~psuch\u00ea/~, into the lower-world. No textual corruption need be\nassumed here, ~ka\\n z\u00f4=si ka\\n tha/n\u00f4sin ouk apo/llutai~, _Ph._ 1443\nf.]\n\n[103\\12: Without ritual burial the dead man is ~t\u00f4=n ka/t\u00f4the the\u00f4=n\na/moiros akte/ristos ano/sios ne/kus~, _Ant._ 1070 f.]\n\n[104\\12: ~enta/phia hoi=a toi=s ka/t\u00f4 nomi/zetai~, _El._ 326.\n~kteri/smata~, 434, 931. ~loutra/~, 84, 434 (cf. above, chap. v, nn.\n106, 107), ~e/mpura~, 405. ~choai/~, 440.--_El._ 452, prayer is made\nto the dead that he \"shall help us and Orestes\" ~ho/p\u00f4s to\\ loipo\\n\nauto\\n aphne\u00f4te/rais chersi\\n ste/ph\u00f4men \u00ea\\ ta\\ nu=n d\u00f4rou/metha~\n(at present only a lock of hair and a girdle, 448 ff.).--Offerings\nto the dead made by foes and even the approach of such persons to\nthe neighbourhood of the grave is displeasing and hateful to the\ndeparted who lies therein: _El._ 431 ff., 442 ff.; _Ai._ 1394 f.\n(cf. above, chap. v, n. 109). In this case as in the cult of the\nsoul generally the presence of the dead man in the grave, or else in\nits immediate neighbourhood, is presupposed--not his departure into\nan inaccessible land of the dead. The latter view, retained from\nHomeric {455} poetry, is generally allowed to remain incongruously\nside by side with the former.]\n\n[105\\12: _El._ 1066 ff.]\n\n[106\\12: The god of the underworld is ~ouk aperi/tropos~ of the\nmurdered man: _El._ 182 f. Hence all the gods and spirits of the\nlower world are summoned to take vengeance for the murder of\nAgamemnon: _El._ 110-16. We hear of ~Di/k\u00ea h\u00ea xu/noikos t\u00f4=n ka/t\u00f4\nthe\u00f4=n~ as the patron of the dead in their claim to justice: _Ant._\n451.]\n\n[107\\12: Herakles in giving his last commands to Hyllos finally\nthreatens the latter: ~ei de\\ m\u00ea/, men\u00f4= s' eg\u00f4\\ kai\\ ne/rthen \u00f4/n,\narai=os eis aei\\ baru/s~, _Tr._ 1201 f.; cf. _fr._ 367; see above,\nchap. v, n. 148.]\n\n[108\\12: Elektra thinks that Agamemnon himself may have sent the\n~duspro/sopt' onei/rata~ to Klytaimnestra: _El._ 459 f. (There is no\nreason for altering the traditional text here--with Nauck--to make\nthe gods the senders of the dreams instead of the dead man.\n~h\u00ea/r\u00f4es~, too, can send nocturnal visions of terror: see above,\nchap. ix, n. 102.) Here Elektra supposes that by sending such\nharbingers of his wrath the unavenged victim of murder has signified\nhis readiness to assist in the taking of vengeance. This makes\nperfectly good sense and is the only interpretation that suits the\ncontext of Elektra's admonitions to her sister.]\n\n[109\\12: ~ar\u00f4go/s~, _El._ 454. ~z\u00f4=sin hoi ga=s ka/t\u00f4 kei/menoi.\npali/rruton ga\\r hai=ma hupexairou=si t\u00f4=n ktano/nt\u00f4n hoi pa/lai\nthano/ntes~, _El._ 1419 f. \"The dead man brings death to the\nliving,\" Nauck on _Tr._ 1163.]\n\n[110\\12: _frr._ 753, 805.]\n\n[111\\12: _OC._ 1049 ff., 680; _fr._ 736.]\n\n[112\\12: Oedipus does not die but vanishes (is seen no more, 1649);\nthe depths of the earth open and receive him: 1661 f., 1681. What is\nmeant is _translation_ without death as in the case of Amphiaraos,\netc. The poet only hints at the miracle in intentionally vague\nwords--but they cannot refer to anything but translation. ~\u00f4/leto~\n1656, and ~e/thane~ are therefore only inaccurate expressions to\ndescribe his departure (see also above, chap. iii, n. 2). The\nMessenger of 1583 f. refuses, however, to give a distinct answer to\nthe question of the Chorus ~o/l\u00f4le ga\\r du/st\u00eanos~; he will only\nhint that Oedipus has indeed ~o/l\u00f4le~ (1580), but has not simply\ndied--he has instead been translated out of earthly life. The\ncorrupt ~h\u00f4s leloipo/ta kei=non to\\n aei\\~ (this was already what\nthe Alexandrians read) ~bi/oton exepi/staso~ may not therefore be\naltered simply into ~to\\n aino/n, to\\n a/bion bi/oton~. It may\nperhaps have originally been something like ~to\\n e/ntha, to\\n en\ng\u00ea=|, to\\n andr\u00f4=n bi/oton~ (cf. Medea to her children ~es a/llo\nsch\u00ea=m' aposta/ntes bi/ou~, E., _Med._ 1039. A dead woman\n~hupokech\u00f4/r\u00eake aiphni/dion tou= _kath' h\u00eama=s_ bi/ou~. Ins. from\nAmorgos, _BCH._ 1891, p. 576, ll. 9-10).]\n\n[113\\12: A distinct act of precaution against disbelief in such a\nmiracle: _OC._ 1665 f. (cf. ~e/rrei de\\ ta\\ thei=a~, _OT._ 906 ff.;\nwhich refers esp. to the belief in the Oracle of Loxias, a matter of\ngreat importance to Soph.).]\n\n[114\\12: The innocence of Oedipus and the fact that the awful crimes\ncommitted by him have been done in ignorance and against his will\n~the\u00f4=n ago/nt\u00f4n~, is stressed in order that his elevation to the\nposition of _Heros_ may not seem to be an honour done to a\nguilt-stained criminal. But the poet does not attribute positive\nvirtues to him even in _OC._--far less in fact than in _OT._]\n\n[115\\12: One has only to read the play without preconceived ideas to\nsee that this passionate and savage old man, pitilessly heaping\ndreadful curses on his sons, gloating vindictively over the coming\nmisfortunes {456} of his own country, is quite ignorant of the \"deep\npeace from the gods\" or the \"illumination of the pious sufferer\"\nwhich conventional literary interpretation has been anxious to\nascribe to him. The poet is not one to gloss over the harsh\nrealities of life with trite phrases of vapid consolation, and he\nhas clearly perceived that the usual effect of unhappiness and\nmisery upon men is not to \"illuminate\" but to enfeeble and vulgarize\nthem. His Oedipus is pious (he was that from the beginning in _OT._\nas well), but he is made savage, ~\u00eagri/\u00f4tai~, exactly like\nPhiloktetes in his misery (_Ph._ 1321).]\n\n[116\\12: Humanitarianism of Athens and her king: 562 ff., 1125 ff.]\n\n[117\\12: It is emphasized over and over again that the settlement of\nOedipus on Attic soil is meant to bring about the salvation of the\nAthenians and the discomfiture of the Thebans (Apollo's oracle has\nthus decreed it): 92 f., 287 f., 402, 409 ff., 576 ff., 621 ff. The\nwhereabouts of the valuable possession must therefore be kept secret\n(as frequently with the graves of Heroes: see above, chap. iv, n.\n38); 1520 ff. This elevation of Oedipus to be the ~s\u00f4t\u00ea/r~ of Attica\n(459 f.) is evidently what makes the interest and importance for the\npoet of the whole mystery which he relates.]\n\n[118\\12: ~nu=n ga\\r theoi/ s' orthou=si, pro/sthe d' \u00f4/llusan~, 394.\nThe gods now feel ~\u00f4/ran tina/~ for Oedipus, 386. After many\n~p\u00ea/mata pa/lin sphe dai/m\u00f4n di/kaios au/xoi (a/n)~, 1565 f. It is,\nin fact, an act of kindness after a long period of ill-usage; there\nis a reversal of fortune, but there is no reward or indemnification\ngiven in recognition of a just claim. It is all _grace_.]\n\n[119\\12: In this, too, ~h\u00f4s a/n tis hei=s t\u00f4=n chr\u00east\u00f4=n Ath\u00eanai/\u00f4n~\n(Ion ap. Ath. 13, 604 D).]\n\n[120\\12: Prodikos is, acc. to Welcker, _Kl. Schr._ ii, 497 ff.,\nresponsible for most of the theories propounded in the Ps.-Platonic\n_Axiochus_ on the subject of the ~athanasi/a t\u00ea=s psuch\u00ea=s~, _Ax._\n370 B ff., the tendency of the soul to the heavenly ~aith\u00ea/r~ (366\nA, and even of the Platonizing fantasy at the end about the fate of\nthe departed (371-2). Prodikos, if we adopted this attribution,\nwould become less the \"forerunner of Sokrates\" (as Welcker calls\nhim) than the forerunner of Plato. There is, however, no real reason\nto attribute to him any more share in that document than is asserted\ndistinctly in it. The brief and carelessly composed pamphlet\nconsists of a medley of the conventional ingredients of the usual\n~lo/goi paramuth\u00eatikoi/~ loosely strung together. To Prod. is\nassigned: the disquisition on the troubles of life in all its stages\n336 D-367 E; and the saying ~ho/ti ho tha/natos ou/te peri\\ tou\\s\nz\u00f4=nta/s estin ou/te peri\\ tou\\s met\u00eallacho/tas ktl.~, 369 B (cf.\nBuresch, _Leip. Stud._ ix, 8-9). These two passages put together\nwould establish as the opinion of Prodikos just the opposite of what\nWelcker wishes to ascribe to him. He would show himself as a true\n~peisitha/natos (--ex ekei/nou thanata=| mou h\u00ea psuch\u00ea/~, 366 C),\nwho would make death a mere exit into a state of unconsciousness\nafter the troubles of life, and thus seem an absolute nonentity. But\nthe piece is in reality quite without authority: it apparently puts\nforward the name of Prodikos, who is so often stated in Plato to\nhave been the \"teacher\" of Sokrates, merely in order to have a\ndefinite authority (like the fabulous Gobryes later on) for what the\nauthor does not wish to represent Sokrates as saying on his own\naccount. One of the sayings attributed to the imaginary Prodikos,\n~ho/ti ho tha/natos . . .~ is, however, only too clearly a simple\nappropriation of Epicurus' aphorism, ~ho tha/natos oude\\n pro\\s\nh\u00eama=s ktl.~ (p. 61, 6 Usen.; cf. p. 227, 30; 391. Heinze also\npoints this out, _Ber. s\u00e4chs. Ges. d. Wiss._ 1884, p. 332). The\nother passage (366 D ff.) agrees suspiciously {457} with what Teles\n(p. 38 Hens.) has to say on the same subject apparently in entire\ndependence on Krates the Cynic. It seems extremely probable that the\nauthor of the _Axiochus_ also had Krates before him or even Teles\n(as Wyttenbach already suggested, Plu., _Mor._ vi, p. 41); and that\nhe attributes what he has thus borrowed from extraneous sources to\n\"Prodikos\" by a fiction that never came amiss to the composers of\nsuch dialogues.--It follows then that what Prodikos really said\nabout the soul and its destiny is unknown to us; cf. on this\nrecently much-discussed subject: Brinkmann, _Rh. Mus._ 51, 444 ff.]\n\n[121\\12: In the Prologue Thanatos at once describes his claims and\nhis office. He has to receive the departed and cut off the lock of\nhair from the forehead (75 f. probably as a sign that the dead enter\ninto the possession of the underworld deities: in Verg., _A._ iv,\n698 f. Proserpina in the same way dedicates the dead to Orcus). He\nthen leads them to Hades, 871. He comes in person to the grave and\nenjoys the offerings laid there, 844 ff., 851 f. (like the dead man\nhimself on other occasions, see above, chap. v, n. 108). Properly\nspeaking he is only the servant of Hades; but just as the word\n~ha/|d\u00eas~ was already common as = ~tha/natos~, so Thanatos himself\nis also actually called ~Ha/id\u00eas~ (268, see above, n. 4); only as\nidentical with Hades can he be called ~a/nax nekr\u00f4=n~, 843; cf.\n~daimo/n\u00f4n koi/ranos~, 1140.--In the underworld are Charon ~ho\npsuchopompo/s~, 361, 254 ff., 458 f., and Kerberos, 360. Hades and\nHermes ~chtho/nios~ receive the dead. ~ei de/ ti kakei= ple/on e/st'\nagathoi=s~ Alkestis will have the seat of honour next to Persephone:\n744 ff. By the living who survive she is regarded on account of her\nincomparable virtue as ~ma/kaira dai/m\u00f4n~ and her grave is not the\nabode of a dead woman but a place of worship, 995-1005. Such facile\nelevation to the rank of \"Heroine\" was supposed to be characteristic\nof Thessaly and Eurip. may in this also have intended to give his\npoem a touch of Thessalian local colour. (~dai/m\u00f4n~ as an\nintermediate stage between ~theoi/~ and ~a/nthr\u00f4poi~; so frequently\nin Eur., e.g. _Tro._ 55-6; _Med._ 1391; is this the meaning of the\n~me/son~ in _Hel._ 1137?)--Thoroughly in keeping with popular belief\nis ~chai=re kan Ha/idou do/mois eu= soi ge/noito~, 626 f. (such a\n~chai=re~ is the last word with which ~h\u00f4s nomi/zetai~ one addresses\nthe dead ~exiou=san husta/t\u00ean ho/don~, 609 f.). Similar also (but\nreally implying the conception of the dead as resting in the grave\nand not in Hades) is: ~kou=pha/ soi chth\u00f4\\n epa/n\u00f4the pe/soi~, 463.]\n\n[122\\12: The funeral dirge, 86 ff.; ~ko/smos~ buried with the dead,\n618 ff.; mourning ceremonies: the manes of the horses are cut short;\nno sound of flute or lyre is to be heard in the town for twelve\nmonths, 428 ff. (~pe/nthos et\u00ea/sion~ is usual, 336). These extreme\nobservances are probably taken from the mourning customs of the\nThessalian dynastic families.]\n\n[123\\12: Burial of the dead in accordance with ~no/mos palaio\\s\ndaimo/n\u00f4n~, _Suppl._ 563; ~no/mima the\u00f4=n~, 19; a general Hellenic\ncustom, 526 f.--Burial of Polyneikes in spite of Kreon's\nprohibition: _Phoen._ and probably ~Antigo/n\u00ea~.]\n\n[124\\12: ~toi=s ga\\r thanou=si chr\u00ea\\ to\\n ou tethn\u00eako/ta tima\\s\ndido/nta chtho/nion eusebei=n theo/n~, _Ph._ 1320 f. ~en eusebei=\ngou=n no/mima m\u00ea\\ kle/ptein nekr\u00f4=n~, _Hel._ 1277. The honour of the\ngrave more important even than good fortune upon earth, _Hec._ 317\nf. Lament over the dishonouring of the grave of Agamem., _El._ 323\nff. Request for the burial of Astyanax, _Tro._ 1133 ff., of Orestes,\n_IT._ 702 ff., of Makaria, _Hcld._ 588 ff. The shade of the murdered\nPolydoros prays especially for burial, _Hec._ 47 ff. (31 f., 796\nf.). He is an example of the wandering of the ~a/taphoi~ upon the\nupper earth; he ~a/thaptos alai/nei~, _Tro._ 1084 (see above, p.\n163, and Append. vii).--Funeral ceremony for those who have {458}\nbeen drowned at sea, _Hel._ 1057 ff., 1253 ff.; though there the\nidea is only used as an excuse for the intrigue.]\n\n[125\\12: ~choai/~ for the dead, e.g. _Or._ 112 ff., _El._ 511 ff.;\n_IT._ 159 ff.]\n\n[126\\12: ~choai/~ make the dead ~eumen\u00ea=~ towards the givers of the\noffering, _Or._ 119. The children call upon the soul of the murdered\nfather to help them, _El._ 676 ff., in the belief that ~pa/nt'\nakou/ei ta/de pat\u00ea/r~, 684. The soul of the dead man hovers above\nthe living observing everything, _Or._ 674 ff. Invocation of the\ndead (striking both hands on the ground: see above, chap. iii, n.\n10), _Tro._ 1305 f. Expectation that the dead thus called on will\n~s\u00f4=sai~ his friends, _Or._ 797, or help them, _El._ 679. Calling\nupon the departed in Hades ~a/r\u00eaxon, elthe\\ kai\\ _skia\\_ pha/n\u00eathi/\nmoi~, _HF._ 494 (though with the qualification ~_ei/_ tis phtho/ggos\neisakou/setai thn\u00eat\u00f4=n par' Ha/id\u00ea|~, 490).]\n\n[127\\12: Translation miracles are touched upon by the poet with\nobvious pleasure; cf. transl. of Kadmos and Harmonia, _Bac._ 1330\nff., 1338 ff.: of Peleus, _Andr._ 1257 ff.; of Helen, _Or._ 1629\nff.: of Herakles, _Hcld._ 910; of Menelaos (in unmistakable\nsarcasm), _Hel._ 1676 ff. So, too, in the spurious conclusion to the\n_IA._ there is a translation of Iphigeneia, 1583 ff. (~pro\\s theou\\s\naphi/ptato~, 1608).]\n\n[128\\12: Eurystheus buried in the temple of Athene Pallenis will\nbring safety to Athens and evil to her enemies: _Hcld._ 1026 ff.\nEurysth. says ~soi\\ me\\n eu/nous kai\\ po/lei _s\u00f4t\u00ea/rios_ me/toikos\naei\\ kei/somai kata\\ chthono/s~, 1032 f.; i.e. he will become a\n~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s _s\u00f4t\u00ea/r_~ of the land (just as Oedip. was to become ~s\u00f4t\u00ea/r~\nfor Attica. S., _OC._ 460, and Brasidas Heros ~s\u00f4t\u00ea/r~ of the\nAmphipolitans, Thuc. 5, 11, 1). Heroic cult of Hippolytos, _Hip._\n1423 ff., _fr._ 446.]\n\n[129\\12: The Erinyes are spoken of (apparently with real belief) in\n_IT._ 79 ff. and elsewhere.]\n\n[130\\12: _Or._ 258 f., not very different, _IT._ 288-94.]\n\n[131\\12: ~to\\ th\u00eari\u00f4=des tou=to kai\\ miaipho/non~, _Or._ 524.\nOrestes instead of committing murder himself should have brought his\nfather to justice, _Or._ 500 f. Agamemnon himself if he could have\nbeen asked would not have desired this bloody vengeance, _Or._ 288\nff. It is only Apollo's unwise counsel that has led Orestes to the\nmurder of his mother, _El._ 971 ff., 1296 f.; _Or._ 276 ff., 416,\n591. After the deed Orestes does indeed feel remorse but no\nreligious terrors, _El._ 1177 (in spite of which there is much about\nthe pursuing Erinyes of his mother). How completely this whole\nseries of ideas, the duty of vengeance, etc., has lost its meaning\nfor the poet, is to be felt more especially in the sophistical\nfrigidity with which the subject is treated in an ~ag\u00f4/n~ between\nTyndareos and Orestes, _Or._ 491-604, and in the hair-splitting of\nthe speech of Orestes himself, 932 ff.]\n\n[132\\12: ~dok\u00f4= de\\ toi=s thanou=si diaphe/rein brachu/, ei\nplousi/\u00f4n tis teu/xetai kterisma/t\u00f4n; keno\\n de\\ gau/r\u00f4m' esti\\ t\u00f4=n\nz\u00f4/nt\u00f4n to/de~, _Tro._ 1248 ff.]\n\n[133\\12: _fr._ 176.]\n\n[134\\12: ~oude\\n e/sth' ho katthan\u00f4/n~, _Alc._ 381. The dead are\n~hoi ouke/t' o/ntes~ 322. ~toi=s~ (the dead) ~me\\n ga\\r oude\\n\na/lgos a/psetai/ pote, poll\u00f4=n de\\ mo/chth\u00f4n _eukle\u00ea\\s_ epau/sato~,\n937 f. But even fame is nothing to the dead. Admetos says to his\nfather in the scurrilous dialogue ~thanei= ge me/ntoi duskle\u00ea/s,\nho/tan tha/n\u00ea|s~. To which the old man unconcernedly replies ~kak\u00f4=s\nakou/ein ou me/lei thano/nti moi~ (725 f.).]\n\n[135\\12: It might seem simpler to regard all the utterances of\npersons in the plays which correspond to conventional beliefs as\nbeing merely dramatic expressions of the character's own (orthodox)\nview, and in no sense put forward by the poet as his own opinion.\nAnd certainly the separate and independently acting persons of the\ndrama can only {459} speak and act in accordance with their own\nproper conceptions and springs of action--not in accordance with the\npoet's. But in the antique drama this complete detachment of the\ncreatures of the dramatic imagination from their creator, the poet\nof the drama, only holds good in a limited sense. The ancient\ndramatists exercised their office of judge much more vigorously than\nthe greatest of the moderns. The course of his play showed clearly\nwhat acts and characters the poet disapproved of, but also which\nopinions he sanctioned and which he did not. We have only to\nremember the attacks of Oedipus and Iokaste upon the judgments of\nthe gods in _OT._ (or the story of Sen., _Ep._ 115, 14: Eur. _fr._\n324). Accordingly we may take it that such utterances of dramatic\ncharacters as are not supplied with practical or spoken corrective\nare among those of which the poet did not disapprove. Euripides so\nvery frequently puts words into the mouth of his characters which\ncan only express his own moods or opinions that we may also assume\nthat when their language harmonizes with traditional belief then,\ntoo, the most subjective of the tragedians is for the moment\nexpressing his own view. Thus, for example, we cannot doubt that the\nstrain of piety running through the whole of the _Hiketides_\n(subjection of ~phro/n\u00easis~ to God's wisdom, 216 ff., submission to\nthe guidance of the gods, 592 ff., and to Zeus' government of the\nworld, 734 ff.), and especially the whole-hearted elaboration of the\npicture of Theseus as a model of ~euse/beia~ represent the actual\nopinion of the poet at that particular period (he clearly speaks of\nhimself, 180-3). At other times, too (apart from the _Bacchae_),\nthough generally for a short time only, he shows vague aspirations\ntowards orthodoxy.]\n\n[136\\12: _Alc._ 968 ff.; _Hipp._ 952 ff.--Asceticism of the _mystai_\nof Zeus and Zagreus of the Mountain Mother and the Kouretes:\n~Kr\u00ea=tes~, _fr._ 472.]\n\n[137\\12: _Polyid. fr._ 638; _Phrixos_, _fr._ 833. It is usual (cf.\nBergk, _Gr. Litt._ 3, 475, 33) to see here a reminiscence of\nHerakleitos. But the latter's ~atha/natoi thn\u00eatoi/, thn\u00eatoi\\\natha/natoi, z\u00f4=ntes to\\n ekei/n\u00f4n tha/naton, to\\n de\\ ekei/n\u00f4n bi/on\ntethne\u00f4=tes~ (_fr._ 67 Byw. 62 D.) is clearly intended to express the\nview that \"death\" and \"life\" are purely relative concepts; that\ndeath (of the one, i.e. Fire) and life (of the other, i.e, Water or\nEarth) are simultaneously present in the same object (see also\n_frr._ 68, 78 = 36, 88). According to this view it would be strictly\ntrue that life on earth is not more life than it is death; but that\nis certainly not what Eurip. means to say. Philo and Sext. Emp. are\nmistaken in attributing to Herakl. the Orphic doctrine of the\n\"death\" of the soul which takes place when it is enclosed in the\n~s\u00f4=ma~, as its ~s\u00ea=ma~ (see above, chap. xi, n. 19). But it is\nprecisely this Orphic doctrine that is present to the mind of Eurip.\n(and Plato, _Gorg._ 492 E, 493 A, brings it into immediate connexion\nwith the verses of E.). He is speaking of the true \"death\" of the\nsoul in the life of the body and of its release to a real (and not a\nmerely relative) life after death; and thinks that \"life\" has no\nclaim to the distinguishing name (cf. ~ho\\ d\u00ea\\ bi/oton kale/ousi~\nEmped. 117 Mull. = _fr._ 15 D.).]\n\n[138\\12: _Palingenesia_ is alluded to once only and in jest as a\ndesirable reward for the virtuous, _HF._ 655-68; cf. M. Ant. xii,\n5.]\n\n[139\\12: ~ho nou=s ga\\r h\u00eam\u00f4=n estin en heka/st\u00f4| theo/s~, _fr._\n1018.]\n\n[140\\12: _fr._ 839 (_Chrysipp._) fully physical in _fr._ 898, 7\nff.--_fr._ 1023 ~Aithe/ra kai\\ Gai=an pa/nt\u00f4n gene/teiran aei/d\u00f4~.\nCf. _fr._ 1004.]\n\n[141\\12: _fr._ 484 ~(Melan. h\u00ea soph\u00ea/)--h\u00f4s ourano/s te gai=a/ t'\n\u00ea=n morph\u00ea\\ mi/a ktl.~ Here, too, the poet is speaking of a mere\ninitial association of the elements afterwards to be parted, but\nthought of as always from the {460} beginning independent--there is\nno derivation of both from a single common original element, or of\none out of the other. Eurip. may really have been thinking here of\nthe ~ho/mou pa/nta chr\u00ea/mata \u00ea=n~ of Anaxagoras (as the ancient\nauthorities supposed), esp. as, with Anax. also, out of the general\nconglomeration _two_ masses, ~a\u00ea/r~ and ~aith\u00ea/r~, first emerge\n(though in this case ~nou=s~ is not included in the ~aith\u00ea/r~ as it\nis with Eurip.). Here, too, then the usual dualism of the Euripidean\ncosmogony is preserved. For the rest this _fr._ 484 allows us to\nperceive that in spite of all his physiological tendencies Eurip.\ncan never quite get rid of the _mythical_ element in his\ncosmogonical events. The reason why Ouranos and Gaia in particular\nrecommend themselves to him as elemental forces (and ~koinoi\\\nhapa/nt\u00f4n gonei=s~, _fr._ 1004) was that these figures had long been\nset at the beginning of the world and of the gods by cosmogonical\npoetry (~aith\u00ea/r~ is simply the more physiological term for what is\nhalf-personified as ~Ourano/s~). This probably explains why matter\n(or at least the more solid forms of matter as distinguished from\nthe ~aith\u00ea/r~ the ~lepto/taton pa/nt\u00f4n chr\u00eama/t\u00f4n~) is for him\nincluded in the description \"earth\". In this he is not following the\nold physiologists, none of whom had called \"earth\" the original\nmatter--at least not earth alone (see Ilberg, _Quaest.\nPseudohippocrat._, p. 16 ff., 1883). \"Earth\" as describing the\nmerely material, matter deserted by spirit, may have come to him\nfrom popular usage. As early as ~\u00d4~ 54 the body deserted by soul and\nlife is called ~k\u00f4ph\u00ea\\ gai=a~ (cf. Eur. _frr._ 532; 757, 5). Thus\nfor the poet the contrast between ~g\u00ea=~ and ~aith\u00ea/r~ almost amounts\nto that between \"matter\" and \"mind\", except that he either could not\nor would not think of a \"mind\" without any material substratum and\nthat for this reason his ~aith\u00ea/r~ still preserves a remnant of\nmatter.]\n\n[142\\12: This is esp. clear in _fr._ 839, 8 ff. In the disruption of\nthe elements out of which ~pa/nta~ are composed each of the two,\n~g\u00ea=~ and ~aith\u00ea/r~, preserves itself undiminished and unmixed.\n~thn\u00ea/|skei d' oude\\n t\u00f4=n gignome/n\u00f4n _diakrino/menon_ d' a/llo\npro\\s a/llou morph\u00ea\\n idi/an ape/deixen~ (restores itself in its\nindependent being). Whereupon we feel ourselves irresistibly\nreminded of the saying of Anaxagoras--~oude\\n ga\\r chr\u00ea=ma gi/netai\noude\\ apo/llutai, all' ap' eo/nt\u00f4n chr\u00eama/t\u00f4n summi/sgetai/ te kai\\\ndiakri/netai, kai\\ hou/t\u00f4s a\\n orth\u00f4=s kaloi=en to/ te gi/nesthai\nsummi/sgesthai kai\\ to\\ apo/llusthai diakri/nesthai~, _fr._ 17 Mull.\n[and D.].]\n\n[143\\12: That it was not Anaxagoras, or at least not he alone, who\ngave the decided direction to the philosophic ideas of Eurip. has\nrightly come to be held of late. We do not find a trace in Eurip. of\nthe separation of ~nou=s~ from matter, at least not in the form in\nwhich Anaxagoras understood it. For E. the mind is bound to one of\nthe two primal elements and quite foreign to the other, the earth.\nThus he arrives at a dualism indeed, but in quite a different sense\nfrom that of Anaxag. D\u00fcmmler, _Proleg. zu Platons Staat_ (Progr.\nBasel, 1891), p. 48, points out reminiscences in Eurip. of Diogenes\nof Apollonia--but it is not true to say that the poet's views show\nthe \"closest kinship\" with the monistic system of Diog., or with any\nMonism.]\n\n[144\\12: _Tro._ 884 ff. The air, called by the name of Zeus, and\nidentical with the ~nou=s brot\u00f4=n~, can only be taken from the\ndoctrine of Diog.: Diels, _Rh. Mus._ 42, 12.]\n\n[145\\12: Diog. Apoll., _frr._ 3, 4, 5 Mull. (= 8, 3, 4 D.). The soul\nis ~a\u00ea\\r thermo/teros tou= e/x\u00f4, en h\u00f4=| esmen~, though it is colder\nthan the air which is ~para\\ t\u00f4=| h\u00eali/\u00f4|~, _fr._ 6 [5]. The soul is\ntherefore more akin to the ~aith\u00ea/r~ than to the ~a\u00ea/r~ (~aith\u00ea/r~\nand ~a\u00ea/r~ were at that time often confused: e.g. in E., _fr._ 944,\n~aith\u00ea/r~ instead of ~a\u00ea/r~).] {461}\n\n[146\\12: _Suppl._ 1140 ~aith\u00ea\\r e/chei nin \u00ea/d\u00ea ktl.~ Elektra\nexpects to find her dead father in the Aither, _El._ 59. Of a dying\nman, ~pneu=m' aphei\\s eis aithe/ra~, _fr_ 971 (differently, _Or._\n1086 f.); cf. also _Suppl._ 531-6 (imitated from Epicharm.), where\nagain the ~aith\u00ea/r~ is only spoken of as the abode, and not as the\noriginal and consubstantial element of the soul.]\n\n[147\\12: ~aith\u00ea\\r oi/k\u00easis Dio/s~, Eur., _fr._ 487 (_Melanip._).]\n\n[148\\12: Epich., _fr._ 7, p. 257 Lor. [= _fr._ 265 Kaibel].]\n\n[149\\12: _CIA._ i, 442, ~aith\u00ea\\r me\\n psucha\\s hupede/xato, s\u00f4/[mata\nde\\ chth\u00f4\\n~ t\u00f4=nde. . . .~]\n\n[150\\12: ~sunekri/th\u00ea kai\\ diekri/th\u00ea, kap\u00ea=lthen ho/then \u00ea=lthen\npa/lin, ga= me\\n es ga=n, pneu=m' a/n\u00f4; ti/ t\u00f4=nde cha/lepo/n?\nou\\de\\ he/n~, Epich. ap. Plu., _Cons. ad Apoll._ 15, 110 A; Epich.,\n_fr._ 8 [245 Kaib.]. ~pneu=ma~ as a general name for the ~psuch\u00ea/~\noccurs also in Epich., _fr._ 7 [265]. No earlier authority is to be\nfound for this usage that became so common later (under Stoic\ninfluence) than Xenophanes who ~pr\u00f4=tos apeph\u00ea/nato ho/ti h\u00ea psuch\u00ea\\\npneu=ma~ (D.L. ix, 19). Epicharm. may have been actually following\nXenophanes (whose writings he knew: Arist., _Meta._ iii, 5, 1010a,\n6) in this use of the word. Eurip. then did the same, _Suppl._ 533.\n~pneu=ma~ is the name given to the ~a\u00ea/r~ in so far as it is in\n_motion_. ~(hupol\u00eapte/on, ei=nai s\u00f4=ma to\\n ae/ra) gi/netai de\\\npneu=ma kin\u00eathei/s. outhe\\n ga\\r he/tero/n esti pneu=ma \u00ea\\\nkinou/menos a\u00ea/r~: Hero, ~m\u00eachan. su/st.~, p. 121 (ed. Diels = i, p.\n6. ed. Schmidt) after Straton. The soul is called a ~pneu=ma~ just\nbecause the soul is that which has continual movement from its very\nnature (and is the principle of movement); as such it had already\nbeen regarded by Alkmaion (and later by Plato), and even before that\nby Pythagoras (see above, chap. xi, n. 40); in a different way by\nHerakleitos and Demokritos also. The universal ~a\u00ea/r~ and the\nSoul-~pneu=ma~, if we give the terms their proper meaning, are to be\nthought of as being of the same nature, so that the ~a\u00ea/r~, too\n(still more the ~aith\u00ea/r~ as a higher ~a\u00ea/r~), is psychical and\nanimated by soul. That at least was how Diogenes of Apollonia\nregarded it. (~a\u00ea/r~ = the outer air, ~pneu=ma~ the air which is\ninside men's bodies: [Hp.] _de Flatib._ 3 [vi, 94 L.], a section\ntaken from Diog. Ap.)]\n\n[151\\12: Numerous references in Eurip. to verses of Epicharm. are\npointed out by Wilamowitz, _Eurip. Herakles_, i, 29. The fact that\nEurip. knew the poems of Epich. and valued them for their\nphilosophic contents is clearly made out by Wilamowitz' study. But\nhe goes on to assert that all the allusions of Eurip. refer only to\nthe (or one of the) forgeries in the name of Epicharm., of which many\nwere known in antiquity. The reason alleged for this\nstatement--\"Euripides never quotes comedies\"--is merely a petitio\nprincipii. It may be that Eurip. does not \"quote\" contemporary Attic\ncomedy, but whether he maintained the same attitude to the\nbrilliantly original comic poet of Sicily, whom Aristotle and even\nPlato (_Gorg._ 505 E and esp. _Tht._ 152 E) were not ashamed to\nnotice, is the very point at issue; nothing is gained by unproved\ndenial of this main premiss.--Moreover, it would be a most unusual\nspecies of forger that preferred to publish gems like ~na=phe kai\\ .\n. .~ (imitated by Eurip.) or ~no/os hor\u00ea=|~--under another man's\nname. The fragments of the ~Politei/a~, which is really a forgery\nfathered on Epicharmos (ap. Clem. Al., _Str._ v, p. 719 P. = Lor.,\np. 297), are of a very different character.]\n\n[152\\12: Archelaos makes a less satisfactory model for Eurip. here.\nArch. in his reconciliation of the doctrines of Anaxagoras and\nDiogenes did not separate ~nou=s~ from the mixture of the material\nelements (or from the ~a\u00ea/r~), but he distinguished between them,\nwhile for the poet ~aith\u00ea/r~ and mind are the same.] {462}\n\n[153\\12: ~aith\u00ea/r~ = Zeus, _fr._ 941. ~aith\u00ea/r. . . . Zeu\\s ho\\s\nanthr\u00f4/pois onoma/zetai~, _fr._ 877. Hence the ~aith\u00ea/r~ is\n~koruph\u00ea\\ the\u00f4=n~, _fr._ 919.--In the same way for Diog. Ap. the air\nis god (Cic., _ND._ i, 29) and Zeus (Philod., _Piet._ c. 6b, p. 70\nGomp.; _Dox._ 536).--In E., _fr._ 941: ~to\\n hupsou= to/nd' a/peiron\naithe/ra kai\\ g\u00ea=n pe/rix e/chonth' hugrai=s en agka/lais~ the\n~aith\u00ea/r~ is not put instead of ~a\u00ea/r~ (for ~to\\n hupsou=~ only\nsuits ~aith\u00ea/r~ in its proper sense), but the two are combined under\nthe one word (~_hugrai=s_ en agka/lais~ could not be said of the\n~aith\u00ea/r~ in the strict sense), just as the ~a\u00ea/r~ of Diogenes\nincludes the ~aith\u00ea/r~ (for the hot ~a\u00ea\\r para\\ t\u00f4=| h\u00eali/\u00f4|~, _fr._\n6 [5 Diels] is, in fact, the ~aith\u00ea/r~, and so, too, essentially, is\nthe warm ~a\u00ea/r~ in our bodies).]\n\n[154\\12: ~--eis atha/naton aithe/r' empes\u00f4/n~, _Hel._ 1016.]\n\n[155\\12: ~ho ento\\s a\u00ea\\r~ (which alone ~aistha/netai~--not the\nsenses) ~mikro\\n mo/rion \u00f4\\n tou= theou=~, Diog. ap. Thphr., _Sens._\n42.]\n\n[156\\12: The living air, or Zeus, is ~nou=s brot\u00f4=n~, _Tro._ 886.\nAnd vice versa, the ~nou=s~ in each one of us is no other than God,\n_fr._ 1018.]\n\n[157\\12: ~ho nou=s t\u00f4=n katthano/nt\u00f4n z\u00ea=| me\\n ou/, gn\u00f4/m\u00ean d'\ne/chei atha/naton, eis atha/naton aithe/r' empes\u00f4/n~, _Hel._ 1013\nff.--Ambiguity attaches to the passages in which a dying person is\nsaid to depart ~eis a/llo sch\u00ea=ma bi/ou~ (_Med._ 1039), ~es a/llas\nbio/tou morpha/s~ (_Ion_, 1068), to ~he/teron ai\u00f4=na kai\\ moi=ran~\n(_IA._ 1508). It is possible that in each case a personal existence\ncontinued in a land of the dead is understood--but if they mean no\nmore than that they are remarkably pregnant in form. In reading them\n(esp. _Med._ 1039) one is reminded of the remarkable lines of\nPhiliskos (pupil of Isocr.) ap. [Plu.] _Vit. X Or._, p. 243, 60\nWest. ~t\u00f4=| ga\\r es a/llo sch\u00ea=ma metharmosthe/nti kai\\ a/llois en\nko/smoisi bi/ou s\u00f4=ma labo/nth' he/teron~--said of the dead Lysias.\nBut here the idea of metempsychosis seems really to be involved,\nwhich it can hardly be in the case of Eurip.]\n\n[158\\12: Eur. adopts it for himself, _fr._ 189 (_Antiope_), and\nconfirms it by so many ~lo/g\u00f4n ha/millai~ in which he allows the\nmost contradictory opinions about a single subject to be given\nequally plausible expression.]\n\n[159\\12: ~apeirosu/n\u00ea a/llou bio/tou~, etc. _Hip._ 191-7. ~to\\ z\u00ea=n\nga\\r i/smen, tou= thanei=n d' apeiri/a| pa=s tis phobei=tai ph\u00f4=s\nlipei=n to/d' h\u00eali/ou~, _fr._ 816, 10 f. (_Phoinix_).]\n\n[160\\12: The dead man is ~g\u00ea= kai\\ skia/--to\\ m\u00eade\\n eis oude\\n\nrhe/pei~, _fr._ 532; cf. 533, 534. ~to\\ m\u00ea\\ gene/sthai t\u00f4=| thanei=n\ni/son; h\u00f4/sper ouk idou=sa ph\u00f4=s~ the dead woman knows nothing of\nherself or her sufferings, _Tro._ 636-44 (a locus often initiated\nin \"consolations\": _Axioch._ 365 D, Plu., _Cons. ad Apoll._ 15, p.\n110 A).]\n\n[161\\12: ~ph\u00ea/m\u00ea to\\n esthlo\\n kan muchoi=s dei/knusi g\u00ea=s~, _fr._\n865. ~aret\u00ea\\ de\\ ka\\n tha/n\u00ea| tis ouk apo/llutai, z\u00ea=| d' ouket'\no/ntos s\u00f4/matos~, _fr._ 734; cf. _Andr._ 772. At the sacrifice of\nMakaria the chorus in _Hcld._ 621 ff. can only offer as consolation\nthe fame which awaits her--~oud' akle\u00ea/s nin do/xa pro\\s anthr\u00f4/p\u00f4n\nhupode/xetai~.]\n\n[162\\12: Makaria voluntarily going to meet her death--~ei/ ti d\u00ea\\\nkata\\ chthono/s; _ei/\u00ea ge me/ntoi m\u00eade/n_. ei ga\\r he/xomen kakei=\nmeri/mnas hoi thanou/menoi brot\u00f4=n ouk oi=d' ho/poi tis tre/psetai;\nto\\ ga\\r thanei=n me/giston pha/rmakon nomi/zetai~, _Hcld._ 592 ff.;\ncf. _fr._ 916.]\n\n[163\\12: _fr_, 757 (the metaphor of ll. 5 ff. is employed for\nhomiletic purposes by Epictet. ii, 6, 11-14); _Andr._ 1270 ff.]\n\n\n{{463}}\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\nPLATO\n\n\nThe belief in human immortality, construed in a theological or\nphilosophical sense, had at this time hardly penetrated to circles\nof ordinary lay folk. Socrates himself, when it came to such\ninquiries into the unknowable, never claimed to provide an answer\nthat differed from that which would be given by the majority of his\nfellow citizens out of the accumulated wisdom of their ancestors.\nWhere in the pages of Plato he is allowed to give undisguised\nexpression to his natural and homely vigour--in the _Apology_--he\nshows little anticipation of an immortal life of the soul. Death, he\nthinks, either brings complete unconsciousness to men, like a\ndreamless sleep, or else it means the transition of the soul to\nanother life in the realm of the Souls--a realm which, to judge by\nhis allusions, has much more resemblance to the Homeric Hades than\nto any of the visionary countries imagined by theologians or\ntheologically minded poets.[1\\13] Both possibilities he accepts with\ncomplete equanimity, trusting in the righteousness of the\ncontrolling gods,[2\\13] and he looks no further. How should he know\nwith certainty where everyone was ignorant?[3\\13]\n\nWith a like absence of concern it is possible that the majority of\nthe cultured (who were just beginning to separate themselves from\nthe rest of the community) left unsettled the problem of the\nUnknown.[4\\13] Plato assures us that it was in his time a widespread\nbelief of the populace that the outgoing soul-breath of the dying\nwas caught up by the winds--especially if its exit took place in\nstormy weather--and was dispersed, blown away, into nothing.[5\\13]\nIn other ways, too, we may suppose that the orthodox Greek, when\ndeath approached, allowed his fancy to picture what might await his\nsoul on the other side of death's threshold.[6\\13] But it is certain\nthat the belief in an unending life of the soul--a life with no end\nbecause it had no beginning--was not among these thoughts. Plato\nhimself lets us see how strange such a conception was even to those\nwho were capable of following and understanding a philosophical\ndiscussion. Towards the end of the long dialogue upon the best kind\nof State his Sokrates asks Glaukon with apparent irrelevance \"are\nyou not aware that {464} our soul is _immortal_ and never perishes?\"\nWhereupon, we are told, Glaukon looked at him in astonishment and\nsaid, \"No, in truth, of that I was not aware: can you then assert\nany such thing?\"[7\\13]\n\nThe idea that the soul of man may be everlasting and imperishable\nseemed thus a paradoxical freak to one who was no adept in the\ntheological doctrine of the soul. If in later times the case was\naltered, no one contributed more effectually or more permanently to\nbring that change about than the great thinker and poet who\nestablished the theological conception of personal immortality in\nthe very heart of philosophy and then gave back the idea\nstrengthened and made more profound to its parent theology, while he\nhimself extended the influence of that idea far beyond the bounds of\nschool or sect by the far-reaching power of his own unaging writings\nwhich belong, not to the schoolroom, but to the greatest\nachievements of literature whether of Greece or of mankind. It is\nbeyond calculation what power has been wielded since their first\nappearance by the Platonic dialogues in the confirmation,\ndissemination, and precise definition of the belief in\nimmortality--a power that with all its alteration in the passage of\nthe centuries has maintained itself unbroken into our own times.\n\n\u00a7 2\n\nPlato had not always given his assent to the belief in immortality.\nAt any rate, it must have remained very much in the background of\nhis thoughts and his belief in the days when he still regarded the\nworld from the point of view of a slightly more developed\nSocraticism. Not only at that period (in the _Apology_) does he make\nhis Sokrates go to his death without the most distant approach to a\nbelief in the undying vitality of his soul, but also in the first\nsketch of his Ideal State--a sketch made while the influence of the\nSocratic view of life still prevailed with him--the belief in\nimmortality is omitted and even excluded.[8\\12] It seems as if Plato\ndid not reach the higher conception of the nature and value of the\nsoul, its origin and destiny reaching out beyond all temporal\nlimitation, until the great change which came over his philosophy\nhad been completed. The world of ever-changing Appearance\nmanifesting itself to the senses in perpetual flux and efflux--this\nin its inessential, unseizable unreality he abandoned to the\ncriticisms of Herakleitos. But above it, in accordance with his own\ndeepest longings and, as it seemed, implied as its real object by\nthe Socratic search itself after {465} conceptual knowledge, stood a\nworld of unchangeable Being without beginning or end, to which all\nthe appearances of this lower world owed such reality as they\npossessed. \"Being\" itself, the totality of the Ideas, remained\nuncontaminated with \"Becoming\" and passing away; remained the\nhighest goal and supreme aim standing high above all that aspired to\nit, or felt a longing for its complete and unlimited fullness.[9\\13]\nThis everlasting reality holds itself aloof from the stream of\nappearance and is not to be grasped within that stream; it is not\nmanifested in the deceitful ever-changing perception of the senses,\nnor yet in the Opinion that is based upon them; it can only be\napprehended, without any assistance from the senses, by the pure\nintuition of the Reason.[10\\13] This world of everlasting\nself-identical Being exists outside the thought and knowledge of\nman, but it first reveals itself to man in the activity of his own\nthinking;[11\\13] and at the same time there is revealed to him a\nhigher power than the mere capacity to abstract the unsubstantial\ngeneral conceptions from the multiplicity of experience--a power\nthat is the highest capacity of the soul, enabling it to voyage out\nbeyond all experience and with infallible knowledge[12\\13] to soar\nof its own independent power upwards to a transcendental world of\npermanent and essential reality. The highest capacity that belongs\nto man, the soul of his soul, is not enclosed within this world that\nsurrounds his senses in its restless flood. Like the objects that\nare the last goal of its study the soul itself is raised to where it\ncan for the first time find a form of activity worthy of its natural\npowers. It achieves a new distinction, a priestlike dignity, as an\nintermediary between the two worlds to both of which it belongs.\n\nThe soul is a pure spiritual essence; it contains nothing within it\nthat is material, nothing of the \"place\" where Becoming is shaped\ninto a distant resemblance to Being.[13\\13] It is incorporeal and\nbelongs to the realm of the \"invisible\", which in this immaterialist\ndoctrine counts as the most real of all, more real than the most\nsolid matter.[14\\13] It is not one of the Ideas; on the contrary it\nseems to partake in one of the Ideas--that of Life--only as other\nappearances share in their Ideas.[15\\13] But it stands nearer to the\nwhole world of the everlasting Ideas than anything else that is not\nitself an Idea; of all the things in the world it is \"most like\" to\nthe Idea.[16\\13]\n\nBut it has also a share in Becoming. It cannot simply remain with\nthe Ideas in unaltered other-world transcendence. It has its origin\nindeed in that other world beyond Appearance. It was from the\nbeginning, uncreated[17\\13] like the Ideas and like {466} the Soul\nof the World to which it is akin.[18\\13] It is \"older than the\nbody\"[19\\13] to which it must link itself; it does not come into\nbeing at the same time as the body, but is only drawn down from its\nspiritual state of being into the realm of matter and becoming. In\nthe _Phaedrus_ this \"fall into birth\" appears as the necessary\nresult of an intellectual \"fall\" which takes place within the soul\nitself.[20\\13] In the _Timaeus_, however, with its study of the\ngeneral life of the whole world-organism, the animation of the\nliving creature has now to be explained as arising out of the\nplan--not from a failure of the plan--of the Creator.[21\\13] The\nsoul thus seems to be destined from the beginning to give life to a\nbody. It is not only the knowing and thinking element in a world of\ninanimate things, it is also the source of all movement. Itself in\nmotion from the beginning it bestows the power of movement upon the\nbody with which it is associated; without it, there would be no\nmovement in the world, and no life either.[22\\13]\n\nBut though enclosed within the body it remains a stranger to the\nbody. On its side it has no need of the body and is not conditioned\nby it. It remains independently associated with it as its mistress\nand leader.[23\\13] Even in their united existence there is a great\ngulf fixed between the soul and all that is not soul;[24\\13] body\nand soul never fuse into one, however closely they may be bound up\nwith each other. And yet the body and its impulses have the power to\ninfluence profoundly the immortal being that dwells within it. By\nits union with the body the soul can be made unclean; \"diseases\"\nsuch as folly and unrestrained passion come to it from the\nbody.[25\\13] It is not beyond the reach of change like the Ideas, to\nwhich it is akin without being of their nature; on the contrary, it\ncan degenerate entirely. The evil influences of the body penetrate\nto its inmost being; even in its everlasting, immaterial, spiritual\nnature it can derive something \"corporeal\"[26\\13] from such a\nsinister partnership.\n\nIt is bound to the body by influences of a lower kind which attach\nthemselves to the pure power of knowledge that alone is proper to\nit. At the outset of his speculations Plato, like other thinkers\nbefore him,[27\\13] had thought of the different capacities of the\nsoul, alternately in conflict or alliance with each other, as\n\"parts\" of unequal rank and value, bound up together within the soul\nof man.[28\\13] Even in the previous life of the soul, in the other\nworld, the reasoning power of the soul is, according to the\n_Phaedrus_, already coupled with \"Temper\" and \"Desire\"; it is these\nin fact which drag down the soul into the realm of the material; and\nthe three parts still {467} remain indissolubly united in the\neverlasting life which awaits the soul after its release from the\nbody.\n\nBut in proportion as the philosopher extends and elevates his\nconception of the soul, and as he becomes more convinced of its\neternal destiny and vocation to a life of unending blessedness in a\nrealm of unchangeable being, the more impossible does it seem to him\nthat this candidate for immortality in the realm of the everlasting\nForms can be a composite amalgam of elements capable of being\nresolved again by division and analysis[29\\13]--that the reasoning\nfaculty can be for ever united with Effort and Desire, which\nperpetually threaten to drag it downwards into materiality. The soul\nin its true and original nature is now for him simple and\nindivisible.[30\\13] Only with its enclosure in the body does the\neverlasting, thinking soul, whose tendency is towards the eternal,\nacquire impulses and desires[31\\13] that have their origin in the\nbody and belong to the body,[32\\13] that only adhere to the soul\nduring the period of its earthly life, that with their separation\nfrom their immortal associate will pass away, since they are\nthemselves mortal and such as perish with the body.\n\nThe soul, to which sense-perception,[33\\13] feeling, emotion, and\ndesire are only added from outside, is in its own imperishable\nnature nothing but pure capacity of thought and knowledge--with\nwhich indeed the power to will that which is conceived in thought,\nseems to be directly associated. It is destined for the \"other\"\nworld, for the intuition and undistorted reflection in its\nconsciousness of the immaterial essences. Banished to this earth\namid the restless change and alteration of all being, and not\nuninfluenced by the forces of bodily life, it must endure a brief\nexile here.[34\\13] Not unscathed does it leave behind it, in death,\nits ill-assorted companion, the body.[35\\13] Then it goes into an\nintermediate region of bodiless existence in which it must do\npenance for the misdeeds of its life on earth, and free itself from\ntheir effects.[36\\13] After that it is driven away once more into a\nbody and transported to a fresh life upon earth, the character of\nwhich it chooses for itself in accordance with the special nature\nthat it had evolved in its earlier incarnation upon earth.[37\\13]\nThough no organic connexion exists between them, yet there is a\ncertain \"symmetry\"[38\\13] between the individual soul and the body\nthat is lent to it.\n\nThus, the soul lives through a series of earthly lives[39\\13] of the\nmost varied character; it may even sink so low as the animals in the\ncourse of its incarnations.[40\\13] Its own merits, the success or\nfailure of its conflict with the passions and desires of the {468}\nbody, decide whether or not its lives shall lead it upwards to a\nnobler type of existence. Its task is plain: it must _free_ itself\nfrom its impure companions, sensual Lust and the darkening of the\npowers of Reason. If it can succeed in this it will find once more\nthe \"way upwards\"[41\\13] which at last leads it into complete\nimmunity from renewed incarnation and brings it home again into the\nkingdom of everlasting untroubled Being.\n\n\u00a7 3\n\nIt is evident that in what he thus, clothing philosophy in the\nlanguage of poetry, says of the origin, destiny, and character of\nthe soul, which though beyond time is yet placed within time, and\nthough beyond space is yet the cause of all movement within\nspace--that in all this Plato is following in the track of the\n_theologians_ of earlier times. Only in the poetry and speculative\nthought of _theologi_, not in any physiologists' doctrine, did he\nfind the conception, imaginatively expressed and pointing in the\ndirection which he also followed, of a multiplicity of independent\nsouls whose existence had been from all time and was not first begun\nin the material world with the creation of a living organism; of\nsouls enclosed in the corporeal as though in a foreign, hostile\nelement, which survive their association with the body, passing\nthrough many such bodies and yet preserving themselves intact after\nthe destruction of each of those bodies, immortal, endless (for they\nare without beginning),[42\\13] and alive from the very beginning of\nTime. The souls, moreover, have life as distinct, complete, and\nindivisible personalities, not as mere dependent emanations of a\nsimple common Source of all life.\n\nThe theory of the eternity and indestructibility of the individual\nsouls, of the personal immortality of the souls, is difficult to\nreconcile with more specifically Platonic doctrine--with the\ndoctrine of the Ideas.[43\\13] And yet it is undeniable that from the\nmoment that he first adopted this theory--and adopted it, too,\nprecisely in connexion with the philosophy of the Ideas--he adhered\nto it steadfastly and without deviating from its essential meaning.\nThe process by which he arrived at it is not to be found in the\n\"proofs\" by which he attempts in the _Phaedo_ to establish the truth\nof the soul's immortality in which he himself already believed.\nThose proofs in reality do not prove what they are intended to prove\n(and what considered as a fact of experience is unproved and as an\naxiom necessary to thought is beyond proof); they cannot therefore\nbe the reasons that led the philosopher to {469} hold his\nconviction. He has in fact borrowed this article of his faith from\nthe creeds which already contained it. He himself scarcely conceals\nthe fact. As authority for the main outlines of the soul's history\nas given by himself he refers us almost apologetically, and as\nthough excusing himself for not providing a philosophical proof, to\nthe _theologi_ and priests of the mysteries.[44\\13] And he himself\nbecomes the philosophical poet, completely and without concealment,\nwhen in imitation of the poetry of edification he, too, gives a\npicture of the soul's sojourn in an intermediate station of its\npilgrimage or describes the stages of its earthly existence[45\\13]\nthat lead the soul down even to the animal.\n\nFor such mythological expressions of the inexpressible the\nphilosopher himself claims no more than symbolical truth.[46\\13] He\nis fully in earnest, however, with the fundamental conception of the\nsoul as an independent substance that enters from beyond space and\ntime into the material and perceptible world, and into external\nconjunction with the body, not into organic union with it; that\nmaintains itself as a being of spiritual essence in the midst of the\nflux and decay of the material world, though at the same time its\npure brightness is overshadowed through this conjunction and must\npurify itself from the effects; that _can_ disentangle\nitself,[47\\13] even to the extent of complete severance from the\nembrace of the material and the perceptible. All that is essential\nin this conception he derives from the theologians, but he brings it\ninto close relationship with his own philosophy which depends upon a\nconviction of the absolute opposition between Being and Becoming,\nand upon the dualistic division of the world into matter and mind--a\ndualism that applies also to the relations of soul and body and\nthroughout the whole realm of Appearance. The soul which stands\nhalf-way between the unity and unchangeability of Being and the\never-varying multiplicity of matter has in this realm of fragmentary\nand subordinate validity, into which it is temporarily exiled, the\npower to reflect the Ideas and represent them in its own\nconsciousness clear and unfalsified. The soul in its complete\nindependence of sense-perception and of concepts derived from the\nsenses is alone able to pursue the \"Quest of Reality\".[48\\13] In\nthis pursuit the body with which it is associated is nothing but a\nhindrance and a serious one. The soul has a hard struggle against\nthe tendencies of the body in spite of its independence and\naloofness. Just as, in the creation of the universe, matter, though\nnot a cause is at least a subordinate cause which by its influence\nand exigencies gives {470} various hindrances[49\\13] to the \"Mind\"\nthat shapes and orders the world, so, too, the soul finds in this\nephemeral and inconstant Matter, with its stirring and tumultuous\nunrest, a serious obstacle to its own proper activity. This is the\nevil, or the cause of evil,[50\\13] which must be overthrown in order\nthat the mind may win its way to freedom and final rest and security\nin the realm of pure Being. Plato often speaks of the _katharsis_,\nthe purification, after which man must strive.[51\\13] He takes both\nthe word and the idea from the theologians, but he gives it a higher\nmeaning while yet preserving unmistakably the analogy with the\n_katharsis_ of the _theologi_ and mystery-priests. It is not the\npollution which comes from contact with sinister _daimones_ and from\nall that belongs to them, that is to be avoided, but rather the\ndulling of the power of knowledge and of willing what is known\n(regarded as a simultaneously created power) due to the world of the\nsenses and its fierce impulses.[52\\13] Man's effort must be directed\nnot so much to ritual purity, as to the preservation of his\nknowledge of the eternal from eclipse through the deceptive\nillusions of the senses; towards the concentration and gathering\ntogether of the soul within itself;[53\\13] its withdrawal from\ncontact with the ephemeral as the source of pollution and\ndebasement.\n\nThus, even in this philosophic reinterpretation of ritual abstinence\nin terms of a spiritual release and emancipation, the effort after\n\"purity\" retains its _religious_ sense. The world of the Ideas, the\nworld of pure Being, to which only the pure soul can attain,[54\\13]\nis a world of divinity. The \"Good\" as the highest of the Ideas, the\nloftiest pattern, the supreme aim to which all Being and Becoming\ntend, which is at the same time more than all the Ideas--the first\ncause of all Being and all knowledge--is also God.[55\\13] The soul\nfor which, in its desire and longing for the full being of the Idea,\nthe knowledge of the \"Good\" is the \"supreme science\",[56\\13] enters\nhereby into the closest communion with God. The \"turning away\" of\nthe soul from the many-coloured image to the sun of the highest\nIdea, is itself[57\\13] a turning towards the divine, towards the\nluminous source of all Being and Knowing.\n\nThus exalted, philosophic inquiry turns to _enthousiasmos_.[58\\13]\nThe way which leads upwards from the lower levels of Becoming to\nBeing, is discovered by means of _dialectic_, which in its\n\"comprehensive view\"[59\\13] is able to unite the distracted\never-moving flood of multifarious Appearance into the ever-enduring\nunity of the Idea which is reflected in Appearance. Dialectic\ntravels through the whole range of the Ideas, graduated one above\nthe other, till it reaches the last and {471} most universal of the\nIdeas. In its upward course it passes by an effort of sheer logic\nthrough the whole edifice of the highest concepts.[60\\13] Plato is\nthe most subtle of dialecticians; he almost carries subtlety to\nexcess in his eager pursuit of every intricacy of logic--and of\nparalogism. But he combined to a remarkable degree the cold\nexactitude of the logician with the enthusiastic intensity of the\nseer; and his dialectic, after its patient upward march step by step\nfrom concept to concept, at last soars to its final goal in a single\ntremendous flight, in which the longed-for realm of the Ideas\nreveals itself in a moment of immediate vision. So the Bacchant in\nhis ecstasy saw divinity suddenly plain, and so too in the nights\nconsecrated by the mysteries the _epopt\u00eas_ beheld the vision of the\nGoddesses in the torch-lit glare of Eleusis.[61\\13]\n\nTo this loftiest height whence a view is obtained of \"colourless,\nformless Being, beyond the reach of every contact\", inaccessible to\nsense-perception, it is dialectic that shows the way; and dialectic\nnow becomes a way of salvation in which the soul finds once more its\nown divine nature and its divine home. The soul is closely akin to\ngodhead and like it[62\\13]--it is itself something divine. The\nreason in the soul is divine,[63\\13] and comprehends everlasting\nBeing immediately by its power of thought. \"If the eye were not\nsunlike, it could never see the sun\";[64\\13] if the mind were not\nakin by nature to the good,[65\\13] the highest of the Ideas, it\ncould never comprehend the Good, the Beautiful, and all that is\nperfect and eternal. In its power of recognizing the eternal the\nsoul bears within itself the surest proof that it is itself\neternal.[66\\13]\n\nThe \"purification\" by means of which the soul gets rid of[67\\13] the\ndefacement that has overtaken it during its earthly life reveals\nagain the divine in man. Even on earth the philosopher is thus\nrendered immortal and godlike.[68\\13] As long as he can continue in\na state of pure intellectual knowledge and comprehension of the\neverlasting, for so long is he living, already in this life, \"in the\nIslands of the Blest.\"[69\\13] By expelling all traces of the\ncorruptible and the mortal in and about himself, he is more and more\nto \"become like God\";[70\\13] so that when it is at last set free\nfrom this earthly existence, his soul may enter into the divine, the\ninvisible, the pure, the eternally self-identical, and as a\ndisembodied mind remain for ever with that which is its kin.[70a\\13]\nAt this point, language that can only make use of physical imagery\nbecomes totally inadequate.[71\\13] A goal is set before the soul\nthat lies outside all physical nature, beyond time and space,\nwithout past or future, an ever-present _now_.[72\\13] {472}\n\nThe soul can escape out of time and space and find its home in\neternity, without at the same time losing its own self in the\nGeneral and Universal that stands above time and space. We must not\ninquire what sort of personality and individual distinctness can yet\nremain with the soul when it has cast off all effort, desire,\nsense-perception, and everything related to the world of change and\nmultiplicity, to become once more a pure mirror of the eternal. Nor\nmust we ask how it is possible to think of a spirit removed above\nspace and time and all the multiplicity of matter and yet personal\nand separate in its personality.[73\\13] For Plato the Souls live on\nas they had been in the beginning--individual beings conscious of\nthemselves in a time that has no end and is beyond all time. He\nteaches a personal immortality.\n\n\u00a7 4\n\nThere is an \"other-worldly\" tone in this philosophy, and its\ndoctrine of the soul. Far beyond the world in which life has placed\nman lies the realm of pure Being, the good, the perfect, and the\nunspoilt. To reach that realm at last, to free the mind from the\nunrest and illusion of the senses, to be rid of the desires and\nemotions that would \"nail\"[74\\13] it down here below, to sever its\nconnexion[75\\13] with the body and bodily things--that is the soul's\nhighest duty. The only reason why it is banished into this world is\nthat it may all the more completely separate itself from the world.\nTo die--to be dead inwardly to all that is visible, material,\nphysical--that is the goal and the fruit of philosophy.[76\\13] \"To\nbe ready and fit to die\" is the hall-mark of the complete\nphilosopher. For such, philosophy is the deliverer that frees him\nfor all time from the body[77\\13]--from its desires, its\nrestlessness, its wild passions[78\\13]--and gives him back again to\nthe eternal and its silence.\n\nTo be pure, to be free from evil, to die already in this temporal\nworld--these are the oft-repeated exhortations which the philosopher\naddresses to the immortal soul. Ascetic morality here again demands\nfrom man what is essentially a quite negative proceeding. But this\ndenial of the world is only a step leading on to the most supremely\npositive behaviour. _Katharsis_ is only the gateway to philosophy;\nand it is philosophy which teaches man how to reach what alone is\npositive, the only true and unconditional Being; instructs him how\nto reach the clear and perfect understanding of the only permanent\ngood and how to merge himself utterly in that good.[79\\13] The soul\nof the thinker yearns after Reality;[80\\13] {473} death is for it\nnot merely the annihilation of the chains of the body that impede\nit, but a very positive \"acquisition of intellectual\nknowledge\"[81\\13] to which it is urged on by its proper\nnature--which is therefore also a fulfilment of its proper task. So\nthe turning aside from the physical and the ephemeral is at the same\ntime and without transition a turning towards the eternal and the\ndivine. The flight from the things of this world is in itself an\nentry into that other world, and a becoming like to the\ndivine.[82\\13]\n\nBut the true realities are not to be found in this world. To grasp\nthem plainly in its thought--to recover the untroubled vision of its\nspiritual eye--the soul must divest itself entirely of all the\nstress and distraction of the earthly. For this mundane world, the\nmirage that encompasses the senses, the philosopher has nothing but\ndenial. Because it gives no foothold for true knowledge the whole\nworld of Becoming has no independent value for his science. The\napprehension of that which is never more than relative, which\nsimultaneously manifests contrary qualities in itself, can only\nserve as stimulus and invitation to the search for what is\nabsolute.[83\\12] In this realm of doubtful shadows the soul finds\nnothing but obscure reminders of that which it had once beheld\nplainly. The beauty of the physical world which is apprehended by\nthe noblest of the senses, the eye, serves indeed to recall to the\nsoul's memory the Beautiful-in-itself, of which that other is but a\npale copy, and to disclose to the soul what is really its own\nproperty, what it had brought with it ready made from an earlier\nexistence beyond the bounds of all matter.[84\\13] But the\nobservation of beauty here below must lead beyond itself at once and\nconduct the mind out of the world of mere appearance to the pure\nforms of the Ideal world. The process of Becoming tells us nothing\nabout the nature of Being; the thinker learns nothing from this\nsource--in fact he learns no _new_ knowledge or wisdom of any kind\nin this world; he only recovers what he had before and always\npossessed in latent form.[85\\13] The treasure, however, lies beyond\nthe limits of this world. He must turn away his gaze from the\nshadow-figures upon the wall of the cave of this world, and direct\nit towards the sun of eternity.[86\\13] He is placed in this world of\nperpetual change; to it his senses and his understanding are\ndirectly referred; and yet he must disdain and rise superior to, and\nflee from, all that this world offers, giving himself up immediately\nand entirely to the unseen, and taking flight from this world to\nthat where he will become like God, and be purified and justified by\nthe power and might of his knowledge.[87\\13] {474}\n\nEarthly life as it actually is will remain strange to him, and he a\nstranger in earthly life,[88\\13] despised as a fool for his\ninaptitude in earthly affairs by the great majority of those who are\nso versed in such things.[89\\13] He has something higher to think\nabout--the salvation of his own soul. He will not live for the\ncommunity, but for himself, and his real task.[90\\13] Human\ninterests seem to him hardly worth troubling about,[91\\13] the state\nitself hopelessly corrupt, founded as it is upon deception and\npassion and injustice. At the same time, he himself of course would\nbe the real statesman,[92\\13] the leader who could guide his fellow\ncitizens to their true salvation--acting not as the servant of their\nlusts, but as a doctor who gives help to the sick.[93\\13] It is \"not\nships and harbours and walls and taxes and such trivialities\"[94\\13]\nthat he would give the city, but justice and health and everything\nelse which after this life can stand before the stern judgment of\nthe other world.[95\\13] This would be the best mode of life,[96\\13]\nand he could show them the way to it; no worldly power or greatness\ncan do as much--none of the great statesmen of the past,\nThemistokles, Kimon, and Perikles, understood anything of all this;\nall their efforts were nothing but blind error and wandering.[97\\13]\n\nAt the climax of his life and of his philosophical development Plato\ncompleted an ideal picture of the State, drawn in accordance with\nthe principles and the requirements of his own philosophy. It rests\nupon a broad foundation--the multitude of its inhabitants divided\nstrictly into classes that in themselves and their manner of life\nare to display, like a beacon that can be seen afar, the virtue of\nJustice. At one period this had seemed to include all that was\nnecessary for the completion of the ideal State; but now, far above\nthat level, pointing upwards into the lofty _aether_ above the\nearth, a final consummation reveals itself to him, to which all mere\nmundane things serve but as support and furtherance. A small\nminority of the citizens, the philosophers, form this last pinnacle\nof the building. Here on earth and in this state that is organized\nin conformity with justice, they will serve the state, as in duty\nbound and not for their own satisfaction, and take part in\ngovernment.[98\\13] As soon as duty is fulfilled they will return to\nthe supramundane contemplation which is the aim and content of their\nwhole life's activity. To provide a place where these contemplatives\nmay live, where they may be educated for their vocation, the highest\nthere is; to allow _dialectic_ as a form of living to take its place\nin the activity of worldly civilization as an object of men's\neffort[99\\13]--to bring about all this the Ideal State is built up\nstep by step. The {475} bourgeois social virtues and their firm\nestablishment and interconnexion, which had once seemed the real and\nsufficient reason for the erection of the whole edifice of the\nstate--seen from this elevation, these no longer retain their\nindependent importance. \"The so-called virtues\" all pale before the\nhighest capacity of the soul, which is the mystic beholding of the\neternal.[100\\13] The chief mission of the perfect wise man is no\nlonger to fulfil his obligations to the others that stand without.\nTo make his own inner life fit and ready for self-emancipation is\nnow his real and immediate task. Mysticism aims at a personal\nsalvation such as the individual can only obtain for himself. Good\nworks are no longer necessary when the mind has no further connexion\nwith earthly life and conduct. When it comes to dealing with\npractical earthly affairs he who possesses the highest virtue will\nhave all these others added unto him.[101\\13] Virtue belongs to him;\nit is his real condition of being; but the particular virtues he\nwill rarely need to use.\n\nThis lofty pinnacle is accessible to but a few. God alone and a\nsmall[102\\13] company of mortals are able to approach in pure\nthought to the everlasting Reality, the sole object of certain,\nplain and unchanging Knowledge. The majority of men can never become\nphilosophers.[103\\13] And yet, according to this philosophy, the\ncrown of all life belongs to the philosopher. This is no religion\nfor the poor in spirit. Science--the supreme knowledge of the\nhighest Being--is a pre-condition of salvation. To know God is to\nbecome like God.[104\\13] It is easy to see why such a message of\nsalvation could not attract a wider community of believers. It could\nnot have done so without being false to its own nature. To a few\nlofty spirits among mankind, it offers a reward that beckons from\neternity. Freedom from life in the corruptible body is the prize it\noffers; that and a never-ending union with true Reality--a return to\nwhat is everlasting and divine. A symbol of what the philosopher has\nachieved after his death will be provided by the community by whom\nthe departed will be honoured as a Daimon.[105\\13]\n\nSuch then is the ideal vision of a civilization in which the belief\nin the soul's immortality and its vocation to an everlasting life in\nthe kingdom of the gods was held with profound and serious\nconviction. The belief in immortality here becomes the corner-stone\nof a building, the architect of which regards all earthly things as\nonly valid for the moment, and therefore of profound unimportance.\nFor him only the Heaven of the spiritual world with its everlasting\nlaws and {476} patterns seriously matters. He discards without a\nregret the whole of Greek culture as it had expressed itself in\nstate and society, custom and art--an art that will last as long as\nhumanity itself. He demands an aristocracy, and an aristocracy\nmeasured by a standard of what is the \"best\" that was quite beyond\nthe reach of any possible human society even though it were as\ndeeply impregnated with aristocratic ideas as Greek society always\nwas. And the final aim and ideal sought by this organization of life\non earth was to be the superseding of all earthly life . . .\n\nThe mind of Plato, equally ready to receive as to give, was not\nlikely to become immobilized for ever in a mystic rapture of vision.\nEven when he had finished the _Republic_ he did not cease to reshape\nhis system at many points and in many directions, while some special\nproblems were taken up again for further and repeated study. Even a\nsecond sketch of a political system was left behind by him in which\nhe sought to lay down rules for the guidance of life among the\nmultitude who are still regarded as completely shut out from the\nrealm of the everlasting Forms. To this end the highest aims of\nhuman endeavour are almost left out of sight and practical rules for\nreaching the attainable \"better\" are supplied for the benefit of the\nmajority. He had learnt resignation at many points. Nevertheless,\nthe profound conviction of all his thoughts remained unchanged; the\nclaims that he put before the world and mankind remained essentially\nthe same. For this reason after generations have not been mistaken\nin seeing in him the priestly man of wisdom, who with warning finger\npoints the immortal spirit of man on its way from this feeble world\nupwards to the everlasting life.\n\n\nNOTES TO CHAPTER XIII\n\n\n[1\\13: Pl., _Ap._ c. 32 f. (40 C ff.).]\n\n[2\\13: _Ap._ 41 C D.]\n\n[3\\13: _Ap._ 29 A B, 37 B.]\n\n[4\\13: Xen. _Cyrop._ 8, 7, 17, makes the dying Kyros justify his\nfaith that the soul survives the body rather on the lines of popular\nbelief and the cult of souls than from would-be-philosophical\nconsiderations (\u00a7 20; see above, chap. v, n. 178). In spite of this\nhe allows the question to remain undecided--as though of little\nimportance--whether, in fact, the soul then leaves the body and\nlives on or whether ~me/nousa h\u00ea psuch\u00ea\\ en t\u00f4=| s\u00f4/mati\nsunapothn\u00ea/skei~, \u00a7 21. In either eventuality he will after death\n~m\u00eade\\n e/ti kako\\n pathei=n~, \u00a7 27.--Arist., _SE._ xvii, p. 176b,\n16, ~po/teron phthart\u00ea\\ \u00ea\\ atha/natos h\u00ea psuch\u00ea\\ t\u00f4=n z\u00f4/|\u00f4n, ou\ndi\u00f4/ristai toi=s polloi=s~--in this question they ~amphidoxou=si~.]\n\n[5\\13: Pl., _Phd._ 70 A, 77 B, 80 D. This belief of the ~polloi/~\nand ~pai=des~ looks indeed much more like a piece of superstition\nthan a denial of the continued life of the ~psuch\u00ea/~ (in which light\nPl. represents it). We have already met with the soul as a\nwind-spirit more than once: when it leaves the body the other\nwind-spirits carry it off and away with themselves (cf. above, chap.\ni, n. 10), esp. when a high wind is blowing (cf. the German popular\nbelief that when a man hangs himself a storm arises: Grimm, p. 635:\ncf. Mannhardt, _Germ. Myth._ 270 n. In other words, the \"furious\nhost\", the personified storm-spirits--Grimm, p. 632; cf. Append.\nvii--come and carry away with them the poor unquiet soul).]\n\n[6\\13: Cf. Pl. _Rp._ 330 D E. There is more about these matters in\nthe speech against Aristogeiton, [D.] 25, 52-3. In spite of the\npopular form in which it is put such an opinion is not to be claimed\nat once as a popular and generally held belief: the author of this\nspeech is a follower of Orpheus, a fact which he himself betrays in\n\u00a7 11.]\n\n[7\\13: Pl. _Rp._ 608 D.]\n\n[8\\13: It is probable that in the ~Politei/a~ two essentially\ndistinct stages of Platonic doctrine are found side by side with\nonly an external bond of union, and that in particular what is said\nin Bk. v, 471 C ff., to the end of Bk. vii about the ~philo/sophoi~,\ntheir education and position in the state (and outside politics), is\nan extraneous addition to the completed picture of the ~kalli/polis~\nwhich is given in Bks. ii--v, 471 C: an afterthought not originally\nincluded in the plan of the whole book and not anticipated in the\nbeginning of it. This seems to me to emerge unmistakably from a\ncareful and unprejudiced study of the whole work and to have been\ncompletely demonstrated by Krohn and Pfleiderer. That Plato himself\nregarded the first sketch of an ideal state as a separate work\n(which may even have been actually published separately: Gellius,\n14, 3, 3), is shown by the beginning of the _Timaeus_. Here--with\nthe implication of quite a different staging of the dialogue and a\ndifferent introduction from what we now read in _Rp._, Bk. i, c.\n1--ii, c. 9--we have an exact recapitulation of the subject of the\ninquiry in the ~Politei/a~ from ii, 10, 367 E, to v, 460 C, with the\ndefinite statement (19 AB) that thus far and no farther had the\ndiscussion gone \"yesterday\". The stages in which the whole work was\ncomposed seem then to be divisible as follows: (1) Sketch of the\nstate of the {478} ~phu/lakes~ (in brief) embodied in a dialogue\nbetween Sokrates, Kriton, Timaios, Hermokrates, and another\ncompanion: in subject matter agreeing (apart from the introduction)\nsubstantially with _Rp._ ii, 10, 367 E, to v, 460 C. (2)\nContinuation of this sketch in the story of ancient Athens and the\npeople of Atlantis. Its completion is transferred elsewhere because\nin the meantime the ~Politei/a~ itself has been extended and into\nthe empty framework of the ~Ti/m.~ thus left available the account\nof the creation of the world given by Timaios is very loosely\ninserted: the frame-narratives of the ~Ti/maios~ and ~Kriti/as~\nnever being completed. (3) Continuation of the first sketch (still\nvirtually along the lines originally laid down) in _Rp._ v, 460\nD-471 C (in which 466 E ff. is a brief account of the behaviour of\nthe state in time of war--a substitute for the longer and more\ndetailed statement on the same subject in _Tim._ 20 B f.), and in\nviii, ix (the greater part), and x, second half (608 C ff.). (4)\nFinally the whole work receives its crown and completion in a\nsection that was, however, not foreseen in the older parts of the\ndesign, for it disturbs part of that original design's independence\nand validity and does more than merely supplement it--the\nintroduction of the ~philo/sophoi~ and their special type of\n\"virtue\", v, 471 C-vii fin.; ix, 580 D-588 A; x, part 1 (to 608\nB).--Then came the final editing of the whole: insertion of the new\nintroduction, i, 1-ii, 9 (not necessarily left until the completion\nof the whole; necessary bringing into harmony of the divergent\nelements by a few excisions, qualifications, etc.; and probably a\nliterary revision and polishing of the whole book.--The whole thus\nfinally produced reveals its origin clearly enough in the outgrowing\nof a first plan and its replacement by a second that has naturally\nsuggested itself in the course of the author's own continued\ndevelopment. At the same time Plato could claim that the whole\nedifice, in spite of much extension and rebuilding in a different\nstyle of architecture, should be considered as a unity in the form\nin which he finally left it (as a noteworthy monument, too, of his\nown alteration of view). He himself in the sublimest moments of his\nmystic flight in Bks. vi and vii in no sense rejects the groundwork\nof the ~kalli/polis~ of ii-v (though not, indeed, designed\noriginally as such), but merely reduces it to the position of a\nsubstructure which remains a necessary and sole foundation even for\nthe mystic pinnacle and preserves its absolute validity for the\ngreat majority of the citizens who inhabit the ~kalli/polis~ (for\nthe ~philo/sophoi~ are still regarded as very few in number) for\nwhom it is a school for the exhibition of political virtue.--In the\nfirst sketch, then, there is no trace of a doctrine of immortality\nthat can be properly so called, and the popular belief in a\ncontinued life of the soul after death has for Plato, at this stage\nat least, no serious weight or importance. The ~phu/lakes~ are not\nto trouble about what may follow death (iii, 1 ff.); the main\npurpose in view is to show that ~dikaiosu/n\u00ea~ is its own reward, and\nthe rewards which are anticipated for it after death are only\nironically alluded to (ii, 363 CD; cf. 366 AB); Sokrates means to do\nwithout such hopes (366 E ff.). The ~athanasi/a psuch\u00ea=s~ is only\nintroduced as a paradox in x, 608 D (in the continuation of the\nfirst sketch) for which proof is sought; whereupon the importance of\nthe question as to what may await the soul after death emerges (614\nA ff.) as well as the necessity of taking thought not for this short\nlife but ~hupe\\r tou= ha/pantos chro/non~ (608 C), of which nothing\nhad been said or could have been said in iii-v. Finally in vi-vii\nthe indestructibility of the soul is implied in its sublimest form.\nIt is evident that Plato's own views on these matters had undergone\nchanges in the course of time, and that these {479} changes are\nreflected in the various strata of the ~Politei/a~ even after its\nfinal editing. (Cf. Krohn, _Platon. Staat_, p. 265; Pfleiderer,\n_Platon. Frage_, p. 23 f., 35 ff., 1888.)]\n\n[9\\13: The Appearance ~bou/letai, ore/getai, prothumei=tai ei=nai~\nwhat its Idea _is_: _Phd._ 74 D, 75 AB. The Ideas are thus\nteleological causes like the divine ~nou=s~ of Aristotle which,\nunmoved itself, ~kinei= h\u00f4s er\u00f4/menon~ (just as matter has a desire\nfor form, potentiality for actuality). Plato it is true did not keep\nto this method of illustrating rather than explaining the relation\nbetween the Appearance and the unmoved Idea.]\n\n[10\\13: ~no\u00ea/sei meta\\ lo/gou peril\u00eapto/n~, _Tim._ 27 D. ~hou=\nou/pot' a\\n a/ll\u00f4| epila/boio \u00ea\\ t\u00f4=| t\u00ea=s dianoi/as logism\u00f4=|~,\n_Phd._ 79 A. ~aut\u00ea\\ di' haut\u00ea=s h\u00ea psuch\u00ea\\ ta\\ koina\\ phai/netai\nperi\\ pa/nt\u00f4n episkopei=n~, _Tht._ 185 D.]\n\n[11\\13: The _prius_ in the case of man is really the perception of\nhis own mental activity in ~no/\u00easis meta\\ lo/gou~ as being a process\nessentially different from ~do/xa met' aisth\u00ea/se\u00f4s alo/gou~. It is\ninference from the former alone that leads to the conclusion that\nthe ~noou/mena~ exist: _Tim._ 51 B-52 A. It is the Ideas that we\ngrasp in abstract thought: ~aut\u00ea\\ h\u00ea ousi/a h\u00ea=s lo/gon di/domen\nkai\\ er\u00f4t\u00f4=ntes kai\\ apokrino/menoi~, _Phd._ 78 D.]\n\n[12\\13: The ~epist\u00ea/m\u00ea~ which ~dialektik\u00ea/~ alone can give (_Rp._\n533 DE is ~anama/rt\u00eatos~ (_Rp._ 477 E.]\n\n[13\\13: Of the three ~ei/d\u00ea~ or ~ge/n\u00ea~--the ~o/n~, the\n~gigno/menon~ and the ~en h\u00f4=| gi/gnetai~ (the ~ch\u00f4/ra~) of _Tim._\n48 E f., 52 ABD)--the third at any rate is quite foreign to the\nsoul. Like the World-Soul (_Tim._ 35 A, along with which it is\n\"mixed\" (41 D), the individual soul also is a middle term between\nthe ~a/meres~ of the Idea and the ~kata\\ ta\\ s\u00f4/mata meristo/n~,\nhaving a share in both.]\n\n[14\\13: True, unalterable Being belongs only to the ~aeide/s~ and\ntherefore also to the soul: _Phd._ 79 A f.]\n\n[15\\13: _Phd._ c. 54-6 (105 B-107 B).]\n\n[16\\13: ~homoio/teron psuch\u00ea\\ s\u00f4/mato/s esti t\u00f4=| aeidei=~ (and that\n= ~t\u00f4=| aei\\ h\u00f4sau/t\u00f4s e/chonti~), _Phd._ 79 B. ~t\u00f4=| thei/\u00f4| kai\\\nathana/t\u00f4| kai\\ no\u00eat\u00f4=| kai\\ monoeidei= kai\\ adialu/t\u00f4| kai\\\nh\u00f4sau/t\u00f4s kata\\ tauta\\ e/chonti heaut\u00f4=| homoio/taton psuch\u00ea/~, 80\nAB.]\n\n[17\\13: ~age/n\u00eaton~, _Phdr._ c. 24, 245 D (~a\u00ef/dios~ simply, _Rp._\n611 B). The creation of the souls in _Tim._ is only intended to\nrepresent the origin of the spiritual from the ~d\u00eamiourgo/s~ (not\nthe coming into being of the soul _in time_): see Siebeck, _Ges. d.\nPsychol._ i, 1, 275 ff. Still, it remains impossible to say whether\nPlato whenever he speaks of the pre-existence of the soul always\nmeans that the soul existed without beginning.]\n\n[18\\13: As to the relation of the individual soul to the soul of the\nuniverse, neither the mythical account in _Timaeus_ nor the briefer\nallusion in _Phileb._ 30 A allows us to conclude that the soul of\nour body is \"taken from\" the soul of the ~s\u00f4=ma tou= panto/s~. In\nreality the fiction of a \"World-Soul\" is intended to serve quite\nother purposes than the derivation of the individual soul from a\nsingle common source.]\n\n[19\\13: _Tim._ 34 C; _Lg._ 891 A-896 C.]\n\n[20\\13: Acc. to the account in _Phdr._ 246 C, the soul suffers its\ndownfall into the earthly existence if ~ho t\u00ea=s ka/k\u00eas hi/ppos~,\ni.e. the ~epithumi/a~ in the soul, tends towards the earth--247 B.\nIt must, therefore, be the result of the preponderance of the\nappetitive impulses. This, however, can only happen if the\n~logistiko/n~ of the soul has become too weak to drive the\nsoul-chariot any longer as its duty was. Hence the supporting wings,\ni.e. the ~no/\u00easis~, of the soul-horse fall off. It is thus a\nweakening of the cognitive part of the soul that causes its downfall\ninto materiality (just as it is the measure of their capacity for\nknowledge that determines {480} the character of the ~ens\u00f4ma/t\u00f4sis~\nof the souls, and their return to the ~to/pos huperoura/nios~ is\nequally determined by their recovery of the purer form of knowledge:\n248 C ff., 249 AC). Thus it is not, as in Empedokles, a\nreligio-moral transgression that leads to the incarnation of the\nsouls, but a failure of intellect, an intellectual fall in sin.]\n\n[21\\13: The soul is, acc. to the account in _Tim._, created in order\nthat by animating and governing a body, it may complete the sum of\ncreation: without the ~z\u00f4=|a~ the ~ourano/s~ (the universe) would be\n~atel\u00ea/s~, _Tim._ 41 B ff. Acc. to this teleological motivation of\nthe being and the ~ens\u00f4ma/t\u00f4sis~ of the soul, this latter, the\n~ens\u00f4ma/t\u00f4sis~, would have belonged to the original plan of the\n~d\u00eamiourgo/s~ and there would be no purpose in the creation of the\nsouls (by the ~d\u00eamiourgo/s~ and the inferior gods) unless they were\ndestined to the animation of the ~z\u00f4=|a~ and conjunction with\n~s\u00f4/mata~. But it is obviously inconsistent with all this that the\n_object_ of the soul's endeavour should be to separate itself as\nsoon as possible and as completely as possible from the body and\neverything material in order to get back again to immaterial life\nwithout any body--42 BD. This is a relic of the original\n_theological_ view of the relation between body and soul. In _Phd._\n(and usually in Plato) it displays itself unconcealed; but it was far\ntoo closely bound up with the whole of Plato's ethic and metaphysics\nnot to make its illicit appearance even when as in _Tim._ he wished\nto keep the physiological side to the fore.]\n\n[22\\13: _Phdr._ 245 C-246 A. The soul is ~to\\ hauto\\ kinou=n~, and\nindeed continually, ~aeiki/n\u00eaton~, it is ~toi=s a/llois ho/sa\nkinei=tai p\u00eag\u00ea\\ kai\\ arch\u00ea\\ kin\u00ea/se\u00f4s~ (the body only _seems_ to\nmove itself, but it is really the soul within which moves it--246\nC). If the soul were to perish, ~pa=s ourano\\s pa=sa/ te ge/nesis~\nwould be at a standstill. The conception of the \"soul\" as the\n~aeiki/n\u00eaton~ was already well and long established in Plato's time\n(see above, chap. xii, n. 150). In the form in which he introduces\nit here (as a proof of the imperishability of the soul) he may have\nmodelled his conception on that of Alkmaion (Arist., _An._ 405a,\n29): see Hirzel, _Hermes_, xi, 244. But Plato here and throughout\n_Phdr._ is speaking of the individual soul (~psuch\u00ea/~ collective\nsingular). So too in _Lg._ 894 E ff., 896 A ff. (~lo/gos~ of the\nsoul: ~h\u00ea duname/n\u00ea aut\u00ea\\ haut\u00ea\\n kinei=n ki/n\u00easis~. It is the\n~aiti/a~ and the issue of all movement in the world, the source of\nlife; for life belongs to that which ~auto/ hauto\\ kinei=~ 895 C.)\nAs distinguished from the ~psuch\u00ea\\ enoikou=sa en ha/pasi toi=s\nkinoume/nois~ we do not hear of the (double World-Soul until 896 E.\nThere is in fact ~ki/n\u00easis~ in plenty in the world besides that of\nthe animated organisms.]\n\n[23\\13: _Phd._ 93 B (c. 43) and often.]\n\n[24\\13: ~psuch\u00ea/~ on the one side, ~pa=n to\\ a/psuchon~ on the\nother. _Phdr._ 246 B and so generally.]\n\n[25\\13: _Tim._ 86 B ff. (c. 41).--In brief: ~kako\\s hek\u00f4\\n oudei/s,\ndia\\ de\\ pon\u00eara\\n he/xin tina\\ _tou= s\u00f4/matos_ kai\\ apai/deuton\ntroph\u00ea\\n~ (education of the soul) ~ho kako\\s gi/gnetai kako/s~, 86\nE.]\n\n[26\\13: ~to\\ s\u00f4matoeide\\s ho\\ t\u00ea=| psuch\u00ea=| h\u00ea homili/a te kai\\\nxunousi/a tou= s\u00f4/matos . . . enepoi/\u00ease xu/mphuton ktl.~ _Phd._ 81\nC, 83 D.]\n\n[27\\13: Pythagoreans, see above (chap. xi, n. 55); hardly Demokritos\n(_Dox._, p. 390, 14). The trichotomy can exist very well side by\nside with the dichotomy (which also appears) into ~logistiko/n~ and\n~alo/gistikon~, the last being simply divided again into ~thumo/s~\nand ~epithumi/a~.]\n\n[28\\13: In the first sketch of the Republic (ii-v). Here it is\nadmittedly bound up with the three classes or castes of the state,\nbut it has not been invented for the benefit of these classes. On\nthe contrary, the {481} trichotomy of the soul is original and the\ndivision of the citizen body into three parts is derived and\nexplained from it; cf. 435 E.--The view that Plato was never quite\nserious about the threefold division of the soul but always spoke of\nit as something semi-mythical or as a temporarily adopted\nhypothesis, will not appear plausible on an unprejudiced study of\nthe passages in the Platonic writings that deal with the threefold\ndivision of the soul.]\n\n[29\\13: _Rp._ x, 611 A-E (c. 11), shows clearly that the reason\nwhich made Plato abandon his conception (given in the first sketch\nof the _Rep._ and still maintained in the _Phaedrus_) of the natural\ntrichotomy of the soul into parts or divisions was the consideration\nof its immortality and vocation to intercourse with the ~thei=on\nkai\\ atha/naton kai\\ aei\\ o/n~.--The emotions and passions by which\nthe soul is \"fettered\" ~hupo\\ tou= s\u00f4/matos~, explain its tendency\nto clothe itself in another body after death, _Phd._ 83 C ff. If the\nemotions and passions were indissolubly linked to the soul the\nlatter could never escape from the cycle of rebirths.--On the other\nhand, if only the ~logistiko/n~, as the only independently existing\nside of the soul, goes into the place of judgment in the other world\nthere would seem to be no reason that should tempt this simple\nuncompounded soul to renewed ~ens\u00f4ma/t\u00f4sis~, a process which implies\nmateriality and desire. (This difficulty troubled Plotinos too.)\nPlato takes into view the possibility of an inner corruption of the\npure and undivided intellectual soul which makes a future state of\npunishment and purgatory possible and intelligible and explains the\nexistence (until a complete return to purity is achieved) of a\ntendency or constraint to renewed ~ens\u00f4ma/t\u00f4sis~ even without a\npermanent association with the ~thumoeide/s~ and the\n~epithum\u00eatiko/n~.]\n\n[30\\13: ~t\u00ea=| al\u00eathesta/t\u00ea| phu/sei~ the soul is ~monoeide/s~,\n_Rep._ x, c. 11 (611 B, 612 A). Hence it is ~to\\ para/pan adia/lutos\n\u00ea\\ eggu/s ti tou/tou~, _Phd._ 80 B.]\n\n[31\\13: The intellect-soul ~atha/naton arch\u00ea\\n thn\u00eatou= z\u00f4/|ou~ is\nthe creation of the ~d\u00eamiourgo/s~; the other faculties of the soul,\n~thumo/s~, ~epithumi/a~ (and ~ai/sth\u00easis~ therewith), ~psuch\u00ea=s\nho/son thn\u00eato\\n~ (_Tim._ 61 C), are all added to the soul at the\nmoment of its union with the body by the subordinate deities: _Tim._\n41 D-44 D; 69 A-70 D (c. 14, 15, 31). The same idea appears in _Rp._\nx, 611 BC. ~to\\ aeigene\\s me/ros t\u00ea=s psuch\u00ea=s~ is distinguished\nfrom the ~z\u00f4ogene/s~: _Polit._ 309 C.]\n\n[32\\13: ~to\\ s\u00f4=ma kai\\ hai= _tou/tou_ epithumi/ai~, _Phd._ 66 C.\nThe soul moved by passion suffers ~hupo\\ s\u00f4/matos~, 83 CD. In death\nthe soul is ~kathara\\ pa/nt\u00f4n t\u00f4=n peri\\ to\\ s\u00f4=ma kak\u00f4=n kai\\\nepithumi\u00f4=n~, _Crat._ 404 A.]\n\n[33\\13: _Tim._ 43 C. It is only as a result of this violent and\ncontradictory excitement through the physical perception of Becoming\nthat the soul _becomes_ ~a/nous~ (which is **originally foreign to\nit) ~ho/tan eis s\u00f4=ma endeth\u00ea=| thn\u00eato/n~, 44 A. (It will in time\nbecome ~e/mphr\u00f4n~ once more and can become wise, 44 BC. In the case\nof the animals, which can be inhabited by the same soul, it will\nremain always ~a/phr\u00f4n~--one may suppose.)]\n\n[34\\13: ~. . . smikro\\n chro/non, oude\\n me\\n ou=n pro\\s to\\n\nha/panta (chro/non)~. _Rp._ 498 D.]\n\n[35\\13: In accordance with popular thought (but obviously also in\nperfect seriousness and without any special concession) death is\nregarded as ~t\u00ea=s psuch\u00ea=s apo\\ tou= s\u00f4/matos apallag\u00ea/~, _Phd._ 64\nC; _Gorg._ 524 B. Hence, it usually happens that the soul ~m\u00eade/pote\neis Ha/idou kathar\u00f4=s aphike/sthai, all' aei\\ tou= s\u00f4/matos anaple/a\nexie/nai~, _Phd._ 83 D. (--~aei\\~, i.e. with the exception of the\nfew complete ~philo/sophoi~ that do not need further purification in\nHades, and this is, in fact, the doctrine of the _Phd._ itself; cf.\n114 C, 80 E, 81 A.)]\n\n[36\\13: Purgatory, punishment and rewards in the other world:\n_Gorg._ {482} 523 ff.: _Rp._ x, c. 13 ff., 614 A ff. (vision of Er,\nson of Armenios in the continuation of the first version of the\n~politei/a~); _Phd._ 110 B-114 C. We must not here go into the\ndetails of the individual myths in which it is still perhaps\npossible to distinguish what parts Plato has taken out of ancient\npoetry and popular legend and what comes from theological and\nparticularly Orphic doctrinal poetry--or even (_Rp._ x) from\nOriental fables--and how much he has added independently on his own\naccount. (A few remarks will be found in G. Ettig, _Acherunt.,_\n_Leipz. Stud._ xiii, 305 ff.; cf. also D\u00f6ring, _Arch. Ges. Phil._\n1393, p. 475 ff.; Dieterich, _Nekyia_, 112 ff.) He usually\ndistinguishes three classes among the souls (only apparently two in\n_Phdr._ 249 A): those who are affected with curable faults, the\nhopelessly and incurable guilty (who are condemned to _eternal_\npunishment in Tartaros without rebirth: _Gorg._ 525 C ff.; _Rp._ 615\nD; _Phd._ 113 E); and, thirdly the ~hosi/\u00f4s bebi\u00f4ko/tes, di/kaioi\nkai\\ ho/sioi~. This is the system of _Gorg._ 525 BC, 526 C; _Rp._\n615 BC. (With these come also the ~a/\u00f4roi~, 615 C, who neither\ndeserve punishment nor reward--of them Er said ~a/lla, ouk a/xia\nmn\u00ea/m\u00eas~. Perhaps older theologians had already concerned themselves\nwith these, not being satisfied with the fate assigned by popular\nmythology to the ~a/\u00f4roi~--see Append. vii--it would have been a\nnatural subject for the professional attention of these Schoolmen of\npopular superstition.) In _Phd._ 113 D ff. the question is even more\nminutely dealt with. Here we have (1) ~hoi me/s\u00f4s bebi\u00f4ko/tes~ (che\nvisser' senz' infamia e senza lode), (2) ~hoi ania/t\u00f4s e/chontes~,\n(3) ~hoi ia/sima h\u00eamart\u00eako/tes~, (4) ~hoi diaphero/nt\u00f4s hosi/\u00f4s\nbebi\u00f4ko/tes~, and (5) the \u00e9lite of these ~ho/sioi~, the real\nphilosophers, ~hoi philosophi/a| hikan\u00f4=s kathera/menoi~--these are\nnot born again. To the other classes are assigned their appropriate\npurgation, reward or punishment. Here classes 2, 3, and 4 correspond\nto the three classes of _Rp._ and _Gorg._ (which may perhaps be\nmodelled on the divisions popularized by older theological\npoetry--see above, chap. xii, n. 62). Novelties are the ~me/s\u00f4s\nbebi\u00f4ko/tes~ and the true philosophers. For these last the abode\nupon the ~maka/r\u00f4n n\u00ea=soi~ (_Gorg._ 526 C), or, what comes to the\nsame thing, upon the surface of the earth (_Phd._ 114 BC), is no\nlonger sufficient. They go ~es maka/r\u00f4n tina\\s eudaimoni/as~ (115\nD), which means that they are really freed entirely from temporal\nexistence and enter into the unchanging \"Now\" of eternity. (As far\nas the complete escape of the ~philo/sophoi~ is concerned the\naccount in _Rp._ x, c. 13 [614 A-615 C] does not contradict that of\n_Phd._ The only reason why this is not mentioned in _Rp._ is that\nthese absolutely enfranchized souls could not appear upon the\n~leim\u00f4/n~ there mentioned: 614 E.)--Of these various accounts that\nof _Phd._ seems to be the latest. In _Lg._ there is yet another\nindefinite allusion to the necessity of undergoing a judgment after\ndeath: 904 C ff.]\n\n[37\\13: _Choice_ of their new state of life by the souls in the\nother world, _Rp._ 617 E ff.; _Phdr._ 249 B. The purpose of this\narrangement is made clear by _Rp._ 617 E; ~aiti/a helome/nou; theo\\s\nanai/tios~ (cf. _Tim._ 42 D). It is, in fact, a theodicy and at the\nsame time secures the complete responsibility of every man for his\nown character and deeds (cf. 619 C). There is no idea of founding a\ndeterminist theory upon it.--The choice is guided by the special\ncharacter of the soul (which it has developed in its previous life)\nand its tendencies (cf. _Phd._ 81 E; _Lg._ 904 BC). For the same\nreason there is no choice on the occasion of the soul's first\n~ens\u00f4ma/t\u00f4sis~ (_Tim._ 41 E): after that, in later births, a definite\ndescent in well-marked stages _in peius_, can be observed, each\nconditioned by the degree of corruption attaching to the soul\n(_Tim._ 42 B ff.). {483} All of which can very well co-exist with a\nchoice of its own fate by the soul conditioned by its own nature.]\n\n[38\\13: ~xummetri/a~, _Tim._ 87 D.]\n\n[39\\13: At least three (as in Pi., _O._ ii, 75 ff.), acc. to _Phdr._\n249 A. Between each two births there is an intervening period of\n1,000 years (_Rp._ 615 A; _Phdr._ 249 AB). This cuts away the ground\nfrom such myths as that of the various \"lives\" of Pythagoras (see\nAppend. x).]\n\n[40\\13: Incarnation in animals, _Phdr._ 249 B; _Rp._ 618 A, 620 ff.;\n_Phd._ 81 E; _Tim._ 42 BC. That this part was any less seriously\nmeant than any other part of his doctrine of metempsychosis is not\nin the least suggested by Plato himself. Acc. to _Tim._ 91 D-92 B,\n_all_ the animals have souls that had once inhabited the bodies of\nmen (see Procl., _in Rp._ ii, 332 Kroll; he is trying to harmonize\n_Tim._ and _Phdr._). In fact, the idea that a man's soul might\ninhabit an animal was precisely the great difficulty in Plato's\ndoctrine of the soul. If, as is said in _Phdr._ 249 BC, a real\nanimal-soul cannot enter into a human body because it does not\npossess ~no/\u00easis~ or the power of \"dialectic\" which constitutes the\nessential part of the human soul's activity, how can a real human\nsoul enter into an animal's body when it is obvious that as an\nanimal it can make no use of its ~no/\u00easis~? (For this very reason\nmany Platonists--those who were not satisfied with ingenious or\nartificial interpretations: cf. Sallust., _de Dis_ 20; Procl., _in\nTim._ 329 DE--denied the entrance of the human soul into animals;\ncf. Aug. _CD._ X, 30, and partic. Nemes., p. 116 Matth. Lucr. iii,\n760, already seems to have such Platonists in mind.) The\n~logistiko/n~ of the soul seems to be absent from animals or to be\npresent but undeveloped as in children: _Rp._ iv, 441 A B (or does\nit remain permanently bound in ~aphrosu/n\u00ea~? see above, this chap.,\nn. 33. Just such a theory put forward by exponents of\n~metempsu/ch\u00f4sis~ who would make the ~psuch\u00ea/~ always the same but\nnot always equally active, is attacked by Alex. Aphr., _de An._, p.\n27 Br.). But acc. to the later doctrine of Plato the ~logistiko/n~\ncomprises the whole contents of the soul before it enters a body; if\nthe animals do not possess it then they do not strictly speaking\npossess a soul (~thumo/s~ and ~epithumi/a~ in themselves are not the\nsoul; they are only added to the soul when it first enters into a\nbody). It seems certain that Plato adopted the view that the soul\nmigrates into the bodies of animals from the theologians and\nPythagoreans, while he still believed that the soul was not pure\npower of thought but also (as still in _Phdr._) included ~thumo/s~\nand ~epithumi/a~ in itself. Later, because it was difficult to do\nwithout the migration-theory of the soul on account of its ethical\nimportance, he allowed the idea to remain side by side with his\nreorganized and sublimated doctrine of the soul. (On the other hand,\nmetempsychosis into plants--which are certainly also ~z\u00f4=|a~, though\nthey only have to ~to\\ epithum\u00eatiko/n~, _Tim._ 77 B--was never\nadopted by him from Empedokles; cf. Procl., _in Rp._ ii, 333 Kr.,\nand for the same reason: this idea was unimportant and indifferent\nfrom an ethical point of view.)]\n\n[41\\13: ~t\u00ea\\n eis to\\n no\u00eato\\n to/pon t\u00ea=s psuch\u00ea=s a/nodon~, _Rp._\n517 B.]\n\n[42\\13: ~epeid\u00ea\\ de\\ age/n\u00eato/n esti, kai\\ adia/phthoron auto\\\nanagk\u00ea ei=nai~, _Phdr._ 245 D--the ancient argument from the fact\nthat the individual soul (and of this Plato is speaking) has no\nbeginning to the conclusion that its life can have no end.]\n\n[43\\13: This much may be conceded to Teichm\u00fcller's observations.\n\"The individual, and the individual soul, is not an independent\nprinciple but only a resultant of the compounding of the Idea and\nthe principle of Becoming\"--though this is not how Plato regards the\n{484} matter; hence in Plato--\"the individual is not eternal (i.e.\nnot necessarily), and the eternal Principles are not individual\",\n_Stud. z. Ges. d. Begr._, p. 115, 142 (1874). But all that\nTeichm\u00fcller has to say under this head is in reality only a\n_criticism_ of the Platonic doctrine of the soul and does not help us\nto determine what exactly that doctrine was. Plato speaks always of\nthe immortality, i.e. the eternity, of the individual soul; nowhere\ndoes he confine indestructibility to the \"common nature\" of the\nsoul; and this fact is not even remotely explained by appealing as\nTeichm\u00fcller does to an alleged \"orthodoxy\" to which Plato is\nsupposed to be accommodating his words. If from no other passage we\nshould be obliged to conclude definitely from _Rp._ 611 A that Plato\nbelieved in the existence of a plurality of souls and in their\nindestructibility: ~aei\\ a\\n ei=en hai autai/ (psuchai/). ou/te ga\\r\na/n pou ela/ttous ge/nointo m\u00eademia=s apollume/n\u00eas, ou/te hau=\nplei/ous~. Here the predicate of the first sentence is indubitably\n~ei=en~ only; it is affirmed that always the same souls will exist,\nnot that ~hai autai\\ ei=en~ (\"the souls are always the same ones\")\nas Teichm\u00fcller supposes, _Platon. Frage_, 7 ff., and it is asserted\nwith all possible plainness that the plurality of individual souls,\nof which a definite number exist, is indestructible.]\n\n[44\\13: E.g. appeal made to ~teletai/, palaioi\\ lo/goi en\naporr\u00ea/tois lego/menoi~, and particularly to Orphic doctrine, in\nthose places where he is speaking of the inward difference between\nthe soul and all that is corporeal, of the soul's \"death\" in earthly\nlife, of its enclosure in the ~s\u00f4=ma~ as its ~s\u00ea=ma~ in punishment\nof its misdeeds--of punishment and purification after death in\n~Ha/id\u00eas~, of the migration of the soul, its imperishability,\ndwelling of the pure in the neighbourhood of the gods (_Phd._ 61 BC,\n63 C, 70 C, 81 A, 107 D ff.; _Gorg._ 493 A; _Crat._ 400 BC; _Men._\n81 A; _Lg._ 870 DE, 872 E). This also is the origin of the tendency\nto compare the highest philosophical activity, or the beholding of\nthe Ideas before all time, with the ~epoptei=ai~ of the mysteries:\n_Phdr._ 250 B; cf. Lob., _Agl._ 128.]\n\n[45\\13: Nine (an ancient sacred number) stages from the\n~philo/sophos~ downwards to the ~tu/rannos~, _Phdr._ 248 DE.]\n\n[46\\13: This is frequently stated in individual myths; cf. also\n_Phd._ 85 CD.]\n\n[47\\13: _Phdr._ 250 C (~o/streon~): _Rp._ 611 CD (Glaukos).]\n\n[48\\13: ~t\u00ea\\n tou= o/ntos th\u00ea/ran~, _Phd._ 66 C (~ho/tan aut\u00ea\\ kath'\nhaut\u00ea\\n pragmateu/\u00eatai h\u00ea psuch\u00ea\\ peri\\ ta\\ o/nta~, _Tht._ 187 A.\n~aut\u00ea=| t\u00ea=| psuch\u00ea=| theate/on auta\\ ta\\ pra/gmata~, _Phd._ 66 D).]\n\n[49\\13: ~xunai/tia~, _Tim._ 46 C ff. ~nou=s kai\\ ana/gk\u00ea~, 47 E ff.\n(~ho theo/s~ is ~poll\u00f4=n anai/tios~, namely ~t\u00f4=n kak\u00f4=n~, _Rp._ 379\nAC).]\n\n[50\\13: The ~s\u00f4=ma~ with which the soul is bound up is a ~kako/n~,\n_Phd._ 66 B (~desmoi/~ of the soul, 67 D). The ~kaka/~ in the world\nare regularly said to come from matter until in _Lg._, side by side\nwith the ~**euerge/tis psuch\u00ea/~ of the world, there appears an evil\nWorld-Soul that works evil.]\n\n[51\\13: Particularly in _Phd._, ~kathareu/ein--ka/tharsis--hoi\nphilosophi/a| hikan\u00f4=s kath\u00eara/menoi~ in contrast with the\n~aka/thartoi psuchai/~, 67 A ff., 69 BC, 80 E, 82 D, 108 B, 114 C.\nKatharsis of the soul through dialectic Soph. 230 C ff. Express\nallusion to the analogous requirement of ~ka/tharsis~ by ~hoi ta\\s\nteleta\\s h\u00eami=n katast\u00ea/santes~, _Phd._ 69 C.]\n\n[52\\13: ~_ka/tharsis_ ei=nai tou=to xumbai/nei, to\\ ch\u00f4ri/zein ho/\nti ma/lista apo\\ tou= s\u00f4/matos t\u00ea\\n psuch\u00ea\\n kai\\ ethi/sai aut\u00ea\\n\nkath' haut\u00ea\\n pantacho/then ek tou= s\u00f4/matos sunagei/resthai/ te\nkai\\ hathroi/zesthai, kai\\ oikei=n kata\\ to\\ dunato\\n kai\\ en t\u00f4=|\nnu=n paro/nti kai\\ en t\u00f4=| e/peita mo/n\u00ean kath' haut\u00ea=n, ekluome/n\u00ean\nh\u00f4/sper ek desm\u00f4=n ek tou= s\u00f4/matos~, _Phd._ 67 C. Thus\n~dikaiosu/n\u00ea~ and {485} ~andrei/a~, and more particularly\n~phro/n\u00easis~, are ~katharmo/s tis~, 69 BC. ~lu/sis te kai\\\nkatharmo/s~ of ~philosophi/a~, 82 D.]\n\n[53\\13: ~philosophi/a~ teaches the soul ~eis haut\u00ea\\n xulle/gesthai\nkai\\ hathroi/zesthai~ and to ~anach\u00f4rei=n~ from the ~apa/t\u00ea~ of the\nsenses ~ho/son m\u00ea\\ ana/gk\u00ea autoi=s chr\u00ea=sthai~, _Phd._ 83 A.--~ea\\n\nkathara\\ h\u00ea psuch\u00ea\\ apalla/tt\u00eatai . . . pheu/gousa to\\ s\u00f4=ma kai\\\nsun\u00eathroisme/n\u00ea aut\u00ea\\ eis haut\u00ea/n~, 80 E, 76 C.]\n\n[54\\13: ~. . . katharoi\\ apallatto/menoi t\u00ea=s tou= s\u00f4/matos\naphrosu/n\u00eas . . . gn\u00f4so/metha di' h\u00eam\u00f4=n aut\u00f4=n pa=n to\\\neilikrine/s, m\u00ea\\ kathar\u00f4=| ga\\r katharou= epha/ptesthai m\u00ea\\ ou\nthemito\\n \u00ea=|~, _Phd._ 67 AB.]\n\n[55\\13: For the ~agatho/n, h\u00ea tou= agathou= ide/a, aiti/a~ both of\n~al\u00ea/theia~ and of ~epist\u00ea/m\u00ea~ but identical with neither (they are\nonly ~agathoeid\u00ea=~) and ~e/ti meizo/n\u00f4s tim\u00eate/on~--cause of the\n~gign\u00f4sko/mena~ and not only of ~gign\u00f4/skesthai~, of both ~ei=nai~\nand ~ousi/a, ouk ousi/as o/ntos tou= agathou= all' e/ti epe/keina\nt\u00ea=s ousi/as presbei/a| kai\\ duna/mei hupere/chontos~--see _Rp._ vi,\nc. 19 (508 A ff.), 517 BC. Here ~to\\ agatho/n~, as the reason and\nactive cause of all Being is itself placed beyond and above Being\n(as it is regularly with the Neoplatonics) and identified with\nGodhead (the ~thei=os nou=s~, _Phil._ 22 C); this last is, however,\nin _Tim._ set side by side with the Ideas, of which ~to\\ agatho/n~\nis now the highest.]\n\n[56\\13: ~h\u00ea tou= agathou= ide/a me/giston ma/th\u00eama~, _Rp._ 505 A.]\n\n[57\\13: The ~periag\u00f4g\u00ea/~ of the soul, _Rp._ vii init.]\n\n[58\\13: The philosopher, ~exista/menos t\u00f4=n anthr\u00f4pi/n\u00f4n\nspoudasma/t\u00f4n kai\\ pro\\s t\u00f4=| thei/\u00f4| gigno/menos, _enthousia/z\u00f4n_\nle/l\u00eathe tou\\s pollou/s~, _Phdr._ 249 D.]\n\n[59\\13: ~ho ga\\r sunoptiko\\s dialektiko/s~, _Rp._ 537 C. ~eis mi/an\nide/an sunor\u00f4=nta a/gein ta\\ pollach\u00ea=| diesparme/na~ (and again\n~kat' ei/d\u00ea te/mnein~ what is unified)--this is the business of the\n~dialektiko/s~, _Phdr._ 265 D. ~ek poll\u00f4=n aisth\u00ea/se\u00f4n eis he\\n\nlogism\u00f4=| xunairou/menon (ie/nai~, _Phdr._ 249 B.]\n\n[60\\13: Gradual ascent of dialectic upwards to ~auto\\ ho\\ e/stin\nagatho/n~, _Rp._ 532 A f., 511 BC, 534 B ff. to ~auto\\ to\\ kalo/n~,\n_Smp._ c. 28-9 (211 B). Its aim is ~epanag\u00f4g\u00ea\\ tou= belti/stou en\npsuch\u00ea=| pro\\s tou= ari/stou en toi=s ou=si the/an~, _Rp._ 532 C.]\n\n[61\\13: The philosophic ~er\u00f4tiko/s~ at the end of the dialectic\nascent ~_exai/phn\u00eas_ kato/psetai/ ti thaumasto\\n t\u00ea\\n phu/sin kalo/n\nktl.~, _Smp._ 210 E--exactly as in the ~te/lea kai\\ epoptika\\\nmust\u00ea/ria~, 210 A. ~holo/kl\u00eara kai\\ hapla= kai\\ eudai/mona pha/smata\nmuoumenoi/ te kai\\ epopteu/ontes en aug\u00ea=| kathara=|~, _Phdr._ 250\nC.--it is a visionary and a suddenly acquired apprehension of the\nworld-order, not one obtained in discursive thought. We may compare\nthe way in which Plotinos, with a recollection of such Platonic\npassages, describes the arrival of ~e/kstasis--ho/tan h\u00ea psuch\u00ea\\\n_exai/phn\u00eas_ ph\u00f4=s la/b\u00ea| ktl.~ (5, 3, 17; cf. 5, 5, 17).]\n\n[62\\13: The soul ~e/oike t\u00f4=| thei/\u00f4|~, _Phd._ 80 A. It is\n~xuggen\u00ea\\s t\u00f4=| te thei/\u00f4| kai\\ athana/t\u00f4| kai\\ t\u00f4=| aei\\ o/nti~,\n_Rp._ 611 E--~sugge/neia thei/a~ of men; _Lg._ 899 D. The eternal\nand immortal is, as such, divine. The real _Ego_ of man, the\n~atha/naton, psuch\u00ea\\ eponomazo/menon~, after death goes ~para\\\ntheou\\s a/llous~, _Lg._ 959 B.]\n\n[63\\13: The ~thei=on, athana/tois hom\u00f4/numon~, part of the soul is\n~atha/natos arch\u00ea\\ thn\u00eatou= z\u00f4/|ou~, _Tim._ 41 C, 42 E. The\n~phro/n\u00easis~ of the soul (its \"wing\" _Phdr._ 246 D) ~t\u00f4=| thei/\u00f4|\ne/oiken~, _Alc._^1 133 C.--In _Tim._ 90 A C this ~kuri\u00f4/taton t\u00ea=s\npsuch\u00ea=s ei=dos~ is actually called the _~dai/m\u00f4n~_ which man has\n~xu/noikon en haut\u00f4=|~.]\n\n[64\\13: The eye is ~h\u00ealioeide/staton t\u00f4=n peri\\ ta\\s aisth\u00ea/seis\norga/n\u00f4n~, _Rp._ 508 B.--Goethe is alluding either to these words or\nto the phrase of Plotinos taken from them, 1, 6 (~peri\\ tou=\nkalou=~), 9.]\n\n[65\\13: ~epist\u00ea/m\u00ea kai\\ al\u00ea/theia~ are both ~agathoeid\u00ea=~, _Rp._ 509\nA--the soul something ~theoeide/s~, _Phd._ 95 C.] {486}\n\n[66\\13: From the ~philosophi/a~ of the soul and from the question\n~h\u00f4=n ha/ptetai kai\\ hoi/\u00f4n ephi/etai homili\u00f4=n~ its real nature can\nbe discerned as one which is ~xuggen\u00ea\\s t\u00f4=| thei/\u00f4| kai\\ athana/t\u00f4|\nkai\\ t\u00f4=| aei\\ o/nti~, _Rp._ 611 DE; _Phd._ 79 D. With the\n~xuggene/s~ of the soul we achieve contact with the ~o/nt\u00f4s o/n~,\n_Rp._ 490 B. If the Ideas are everlasting, so must our soul be,\n_Phd._ 76 DE. By its power of ~phronei=n atha/nata kai\\ thei=a~ the\n~anthr\u00f4pi/n\u00ea phu/sis~ has itself a share ~kath' ho/son ende/chetai~\n(i.e. with ~nou=s~) in ~athanasi/a~, _Tim._ 90 BC. This thinking\n\"part\" of the soul ~pro\\s t\u00ea\\n en ouran\u00f4=| xugge/neian apo\\ g\u00ea=s\nh\u00eama=s ai/rei, h\u00f4s o/ntas phuto\\n ouk e/ggeion all' oura/nion~,\n_Tim._ 90 A.]\n\n[67\\13: ~_lu/ein_ t\u00ea\\n psuch\u00ea\\n~ from the body and from\nsense-perception, _Phd._ 83 AB, 65 A, 67 D. ~lu/sis~ and\n~katharmo/s~ of the soul by ~philosophi/a~, _Phd._ 82 D. ~lu/sis\nkai\\ i/asis t\u00f4=n desm\u00f4=n~ (of the body) ~kai\\ t\u00ea=s aphrosu/n\u00eas~,\n_Rp._ 515 C.]\n\n[68\\13: ~thei=os eis to\\ dunato\\n anthr\u00f4/p\u00f4| gi/gnetai~--said of the\ntrue philosopher, _Rp._ 500 D; ~atha/natos~, _Smp._ 212 A. The\n~philo/sophos~ is perpetually in contact with the ~o\\n aei\\~ and the\n~thei=on~, which last is with difficulty recognizable by the eyes of\n~t\u00ea=s t\u00f4=n poll\u00f4=n psuch\u00ea=s~, Soph. 254 A.--~kai/ moi dokei= theo\\s\nme\\n~ (as e.g. Empedokles called himself) ~an\u00ea\\r oudam\u00f4=s ei=nai,\n_thei=os_ m\u00ea/n; pa/ntas ga\\r eg\u00f4\\ tou\\s philoso/phous toiou/tous\nprosagoreu/\u00f4~ _Soph._ 216 B (where ~thei=os~ is used in quite a\ndifferent sense from that it has in other passages where Plato\nspeaks of ~chr\u00easm\u00f4|doi\\ kai\\ theoma/nteis~ as ~thei=oi~, _Men._ 99\nC, and of the insight and virtue of the unphilosophic as coming\n~thei/a| moi/ra| a/neu nou=~).]\n\n[69\\13: _Rp._ 519 C, 540 B.--~t\u00ea=s tou= o/ntos the/as, hoi/an\n_h\u00eadon\u00ea\\n_ e/chei, adu/naton a/ll\u00f4| gegeu=sthai pl\u00ea\\n t\u00f4=|\nphiloso/ph\u00f4|~, _Rp._ 582 C (cf. _Phileb._).]\n\n[70\\13: The flight ~enthe/nde ekei=se~ produces ~homoi/\u00f4sin the\u00f4=|\nkata\\ to\\ dunato\\n~, _Tht._ 176 B. ~homoiou=sthai the\u00f4=|~, _Rp._ 613\nA (~to\\ katanooume/n\u00f4| to\\ katanoou=n exomoi\u00f4=sai~, _Tim._ 90 D).]\n\n[70a\\13: The soul that has through philosophy become completely\n\"pure\" is withdrawn from the cycle of Rebirth and from the whole\nmaterial world. Even as early as _Phdr._ the souls of the\n~philosoph\u00ea/santes~ after a third ~ens\u00f4ma/t\u00f4sis~ are exempt for the\nremainder of the ~peri/odos~ of 10,000 years, while the real and\nunwavering (~aei/~) philosopher remains _for ever_ free from the\nbody. That at least must be the meaning of 248 C-249 A. The subject\nis then treated in more detail in _Phd._: Release of the\n~philosophi/a| hikan\u00f4=s kath\u00eara/menoi~ for ever from life in the\nbody (~a/neu s\u00f4ma/t\u00f4n z\u00f4=si to\\ para/pan eis to\\n e/peita chro/non~,\n114 C)--entry of the pure soul to its kin (~eis to\\ xuggene/s~, 84\nB) and its like (~eis to\\ ho/moion aut\u00ea=|, to\\ aeide/s~, 81 A), and\n~eis the\u00f4=n ge/nos~, 82 B--and to the ~tou= thei/ou te kai\\\nkatharou= kai\\ monoeidou=s xunousi/a~, 83 E. Still more\nmythologically expressed--_Tim._ 42 BD (~ho t\u00f4=n kak\u00f4=n katharo\\s\nto/pos~ _Tht._ 177 A). Throughout we have the release theory of the\ntheologians re-expressed in a philosophical and more elevated manner\n(Orphic: ~memu\u00eame/noi~, _Phd._ 81).]\n\n[71\\13: ~. . . ou rha/|dion d\u00eal\u00f4=sai . . .~ , _Phd._ 114 C.]\n\n[72\\13: To the ~a\u00ef/dios ousi/a, to\\ _e/sti_ mo/non kata\\ to\\n\nal\u00eath\u00ea= lo/gon pros\u00ea/kei~ _Tim._ 37 E.]\n\n[73\\13: It is true that not until it becomes associated with the\nbody does the soul, by obtaining ~ai/sth\u00easis~, ~epithumi/a~,\n~thumo/s~, and all the other faculties that bring it into touch with\nBecoming and Changing, obtain what can strictly be called its\nindividual personality. The perfectly adequate comprehension in\nthought of the ever-Unchanging by the bodiless and free soul would\nhave no individualized content. We must not, however, (with Teichm.,\n_Pl. Fr._ 40), conclude from this that Plato knew nothing of an\nimmortality of the individual and of {487} individuality. He did not\ndistinctly raise the question of the seat and origin of\nindividuality in the soul. He is content to suppose that a plurality\nof individual souls was living before their entanglement with\nBecoming, and to conclude from this that in eternity, too, after\ntheir last escape from ~ge/nesis~, the same number of individual\nsouls will still be living. Numerical distinctness (which affects in\na scarcely intelligible manner the spaceless and immaterial) has to\ndo duty with him for qualitative distinctness which would alone be\nable to account for the self-consciousness of this plurality. Acc.\nto the picture given in _Tim._ c. 14 (41 D ff.) the souls created by\nthe ~d\u00eamiourgo/s~ are evidently all alike (hence also is ~ge/nesis\npr\u00f4/t\u00ea tetagme/n\u00ea mi/a pa=sin~, 41 E), and only when they are in the\n~s\u00f4=ma~, and bound up with mortal portions of soul, do they react in\ndifferent ways to what affects them from without--and so become\ndifferent. (This is so, however, in the pre-existent period, too,\nacc. to _Phd._: but in that account ~thumo/s~ and ~epithumi/a~ are\nalso bound up with the soul in pre-existence.) The influence of the\nlower soul-partners and of the ~troph\u00ea\\ paideu/se\u00f4s~ (_Tim._ 44 B)\nmakes the ~logistika/~ also of the souls differ among themselves.\nThis acquired individual characterization, the fruit of differing\n~paidei/a kai\\ troph\u00ea/~--something quite the reverse of the \"common\nnature\" of \"soul\" in general which Teichm\u00fcller supposes to be meant\nhere: _Stud._ 143--is taken with it by the soul to the place of\njudgment, i.e. Hades, _Phd._ 107 D. When, however, by the best\n~troph\u00ea\\ paideu/se\u00f4s~ it has become completely pure and free from\nall the trammels of the physical and perishable and departs into\nbodiless existence in the ~aeide/s~--then in truth all individual\ndistinctness has been dissolved out of it. Still, it must endure for\never as a self-conscious personality; for that this is what Plato\nmeant cannot be doubted.]\n\n[74\\13: _Phd._ 83 D.]\n\n[75\\13: ~ch\u00f4ri/zein ho/ti ma/lista apo\\ tou= s\u00f4/matos t\u00ea\\n\npsuch\u00ea\\n~, _Phd._ 67 C. ~anach\u00f4rei=n~, 83 (quite in the manner of\ngenuine mysticism--it is the \"separateness\" of the man who is to\nbehold god, of which Eckhart speaks).]\n\n[76\\13: _Phd._ 64 A ff., 67 E.]\n\n[77\\13: _Phd._ 114 C.]\n\n[78\\13: ~tou= s\u00f4/matos pto/\u00easis kai\\ mani/a~, _Crat._ 404 A.]\n\n[79\\13: ~t\u00f4=| xuggenei= pl\u00easia/sas kai\\ migei\\s t\u00f4=| o/nti o/nt\u00f4s~,\n_Rp._ 490 B.]\n\n[80\\13: The soul ~e\u00f4=sa chai/rein to\\ s\u00f4=ma kai\\ kath' ho/son\ndu/natai ou koin\u00f4nou=sa ore/getai tou= o/ntos~, _Phd._ 65 C. In the\nsame way the Appearance yearns after the Idea; see above, this\nchap., n. 9.]\n\n[81\\13: ~t\u00ea=s phron\u00ea/se\u00f4s kt\u00ea=sis~, _Phd._ 65 A ff.]\n\n[82\\13: ~peira=sthai chr\u00ea= enthe/nde ekei=se pheu/gein ho/ti\nta/chista. phug\u00ea\\ de homoi/\u00f4sis the\u00f4=| kata\\ to\\ dunato/n~, _Tht._\n176 AB.]\n\n[83\\13: _Rp._ 523 A-524 D.]\n\n[84\\13: Beyond all other things it is the ~ka/llos~ of the world of\nAppearance that awakes the memory of that which has once been seen\nin the world of Ideas: _Phdr._ 250 B, 250 D ff.; _Smp._ c. 28 ff.\n(210 A ff.). Plato gives a peculiar reason for this, but in reality\nit is due to a vigorous re-emergence of the fundamental artistic\nsense--the aesthetic element in his philosophic speculation and\nenthusiasm--which the thinker had so violently suppressed in\nobedience to his theory that the ~aisth\u00ea/seis~ and all the arts are\nmerely imitations of deceptive imitations of the only true Reality.]\n\n[85\\13: Not ~ma/th\u00easis~--only ~ana/mn\u00easis~, _Phdr._ 249 BC; Men. c.\n14 ff. (80 D ff.); _Phd._ c. 18 ff. (72 E ff.). (This theory occurs\nregularly in Plato in close connexion with the theory of the soul's\nmigrations; {488} and it appears that he did as a matter of fact\nderive it from the anticipations and suggestions of earlier teachers\nof metempsychosis: see above, chap. xi, n. 96.)]\n\n[86\\13: _Rp._ vii init.]\n\n[87\\13: ~homoi/\u00f4sis de\\ the\u00f4=| di/kaion kai\\ ho/sion meta\\\nphron\u00ea/se\u00f4s gene/sthai~, _Tht._ 176 B.]\n\n[88\\13: ~eis agora\\n ouk i/sasi t\u00ea\\n hodo/n ktl.~, _Tht._ 173 D ff.]\n\n[89\\13: _Tht._ 172 C-177 C. The philosopher is unskilled in the life\nof the everyday world and its arts, and is quite indifferent towards\nthem. Commonplace people, if he is at any time drawn into the\naffairs of the market place or the law courts, regard him as\n~eu\u00ea/th\u00eas, ano/\u00eatos, geloi=os~. Sometimes ~do/xan para/schoint' a\\n\n(hoi o/nt\u00f4s philo/sophoi) h\u00f4s panta/pasin e/chontes manik\u00f4=s~,\n_Soph._ 216 D; _Rp._ 517 A--passages from the later writing of\nPlato. Even as early as _Phdr._ 249 D ~exista/menos t\u00f4=n\nanthr\u00f4pi/n\u00f4n spoudasma/t\u00f4n kai\\ pro\\s t\u00f4=| thei/\u00f4| gigno/menos\nnouthetei=tai hupo\\ t\u00f4=n poll\u00f4=n h\u00f4s parakin\u00f4=n ktl.~]\n\n[90\\13: ~idi\u00f4teu/ein alla\\ m\u00ea\\ d\u00eamosieu/ein~ is the injunction made\nto the philosopher, _Ap._ 32 A; at least, in ~po/leis~ as they are,\n_Rp._ 520 B. After death comes the reward ~andro\\s philoso/phou ta\\\nhautou= pra/xantos kai\\ ou polupragmon\u00ea/santos en t\u00f4=| bi/\u00f4|~,\n_Gorg._ 526 C. ~h\u00f4/sper eis th\u00eari/a a/nthr\u00f4pos empes\u00f4/n~ the true\nphilosopher will ~h\u00easuchi/an e/chein kai\\ ta\\ hautou= pra/ttein~,\n_Rp._ 496 D.]\n\n[91\\13: ~ta\\ t\u00f4=n anthr\u00f4/p\u00f4n pra/gmata mega/l\u00eas me\\n spoud\u00ea=s ouk\na/xia~, _Lg._ 803 B.]\n\n[92\\13: _Gorg._ 521 D. ~ho h\u00f4s al\u00eath\u00f4=s kubern\u00eatiko/s~, _Rp._ 488 E\n(cf. also _Men._ 99 E, 100 A).]\n\n[93\\13: Not ~dia/konos kai\\ epithumi\u00f4=n paraskeuast\u00ea/s~ but rather\nan ~iatro/s~, _Gorg._ 518 C, 521 A; cf. 464 B ff.]\n\n[94\\13: _Gorg._ 519 A. All these worldly matters seem to him\n~phluari/ai~: just as all the Appearances in the world of Becoming\nare for him but ~phluari/ai~, _Rp._ 515 D.]\n\n[95\\13: _Gorg._ c. 78 ff. (522 B ff.).]\n\n[96\\13: ~hou=tos ho tro/pos a/ristos tou= bi/ou~, _Gorg._ 527\nE--(this is the real subject of the _Gorg._, viz. ~ho/ntina chr\u00ea\\\ntro/pon z\u00ea=n~, 500 C, and not the nature of ~rh\u00eatorik\u00ea/~--and it is\nthis which gives its special emotional tone to the dialogue).]\n\n[97\\13: _Gorg._ 515 C ff., 519 A ff. Summary: ~oude/na h\u00eamei=s\ni/smen a/ndra agatho\\n gegono/ta ta\\ politika\\ en t\u00ea=|de t\u00ea=|\npo/lei~, 517 A.]\n\n[98\\13: ~ouch h\u00f4s kalo/n ti all' h\u00f4s anagkai=on pra/ttontes~, _Rp._\n540 B.]\n\n[99\\13: It is now the ~skopo\\s en t\u00f4=| bi/\u00f4|~--inaccessible to the\n~apai/deutoi--hou= stochazome/nous dei= ha/panta pra/ttein~, _Rp._\n519 C.]\n\n[100\\13: The ~a/llai aretai\\ kalou/menai~ (even including ~sophi/a~\nregarded as practical shrewdness: _Rp._ 428 B ff.) as ~eggu\\s ou=sai\nt\u00f4=n tou= s\u00f4/matos~ become of secondary importance compared with the\nvirtue of ~phro/n\u00easis~, i.e. of dialectic and the contemplation of\nthe Ideas, _Rp._ 518 DE. This alone is ~theio/teron~, something\n~mei=zon~ than those bourgeois virtues, _Rp._ 504 D--philosophy\nstands high above ~d\u00eamotik\u00ea/ te kai\\ politik\u00ea\\ aret\u00ea/, ex e/thous te\nkai\\ melet\u00ea=s gegonui=a a/neu philosophi/as te kai\\ nou=~, _Phd._ 82\nBC.--This, too, rightly understood, is the real point of the inquiry\nin _Meno_. Explicitly, indeed, the dialogue only concerns itself\nwith that ~aret\u00ea/~ which is commonly so regarded and is based on\n~al\u00eath\u00ea\\s do/xa~, coming into existence by instinct (~thei/a\nmoi=ra~); which, however, to the philosopher is not ~aret\u00ea/~ in the\nproper sense of the word; that name he would only give to\n~epist\u00ea/m\u00ea~, the only sort of knowledge that can be learnt and\nacquired as a permanent possession, depending as it does upon the\ndoctrine of Ideas. To ~epist\u00ea/m\u00ea~ he this time only makes distant\nallusion.] {489}\n\n[101\\13: _Rp._ vii, c. 15 (535 A, 536 D); cf. vi, c. 2, 5 (485 B,\n487 B; 489 D, 490 E.]\n\n[102\\13: ~kai\\ tou= me\\n (do/x\u00eas al\u00eathou=s) pa/nta a/ndra mete/chein\nphate/on, _nou=_ de\\ theou/s, anthr\u00f4/p\u00f4n de\\ ge/nos brachu/ ti~,\n_Tim._ 51 E.]\n\n[103\\13: ~philo/sophon pl\u00ea=thos adu/naton ei=nai~, _Rp._ 494 A.\n~phu/seis~ of a completely philosophical kind, ~pa=s h\u00eami=n\nhomolog\u00ea/sei oliga/kis en anthr\u00f4/pois phu/esthai kai\\ oli/gas~,\n_Rp._ 491 B.]\n\n[104\\13: \"That into which I sink myself--that becomes one with me:\nwhen I think on Him I _am_ as God that is the Fount of Being\"--the\ntrue mystic note. For the mystics, knowledge of an object is real\noneness with the thing known; knowledge of God is union with God.]\n\n[105\\13: _Rp._ 540 B.]\n\n\n{{490}}\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\nTHE LATER AGE OF THE GREEK WORLD\n\nPART I\n\nPHILOSOPHY\n\n\nPlato and the Platonic account of the nature, origin, and destiny of\nthe soul closes a period. It marks the end of that theological and\nspiritualist movement to the force and significance of which nothing\nbears clearer witness than the fact that it could have such a\nconclusion. After this point its development ceases--at least it\ndisappears from the surface of Greek life: like one of those Asiatic\ntorrents with which the ancients were familiar it buries itself\nunderground for a long stretch of its course, only to reappear\neventually, with all the greater effect, far away from the place of\nits origin. Even Plato's own school almost immediately after the\ndeath of its master and directing spirit turned its attention in a\ndirection quite other than that which he had given it.[1\\14] To have\nretained the Platonic outlook would have made his pupils even more\nisolated in their very different age than Plato himself had been in\nhis own.\n\nGreece entered upon a new and final phase of her development. The\nominous breakdown of the older political fabric at the end of the\nfourth century might have seemed likely to put an end to the natural\nvitality of the Greek peoples. With the conquest of the East by\nMacedonians and Greeks, however, new tasks were set before that\npeople and with the new task they acquired new faculties. The\n_polis_, indeed, the purest expression of Greek constructive\nability, could not be restored to life. Such of the old and narrow\ncity-republics as had not perished completely in that stormy period\nonly languished in a stagnant peace. Rare, indeed, are the\nexceptions in which (as particularly in Rhodos) a more vigorous and\nindependent life asserted itself. The new and swollen cities of the\nMacedonian Empire, with their motley populations drawn from many\nnationalities, could not make good the loss. The Leagues in which\nGreece seemed to be making an effort to find a political\norganization of a wider compass soon broke down under the effects of\ninward {491} corruption and external violence. Even in its deepest\nand most essential character the old national spirit of Greece,\nwhich had drawn its strength from its clear-cut individuality,\nseemed to be suffering damage through the unlimited extension\neastwards and westwards of Greek life. It did not cease to be an\nimmeasurable advantage to be a Greek, but a Greek now meant anyone\nwho had a share in the one thing that still distinguished and\ncharacterized the Greeks, namely, Greek culture--and Greek culture\nwas no longer confined to a single nation. It was no fault of this\nGreek humanism that not a single one of the vast populations of the\nEast (and in the West at last Rome stood alone) was able to make\ntheir own this culture so generously offered to the whole world, so\nthat there, too, all should become _Greek_ who were capable of\nbecoming free human beings. Nevertheless, from all countries and\nnationalities uncounted multitudes of _individuals_ entered into the\ncircle of this extended Hellenism. The way was open for all who\ncould live without the need of a way of life and thinking modelled\nstrictly upon national lines: for the culture which now united all\nGreeks and Greek communities was based upon science--and science\nknows nothing of national frontiers.\n\nThe science which could thus present itself as the guiding principle\nof such a large and heterogeneous mass of cultured people, must at\nany rate have reached a condition of stability if not of completely\nrounded finality. After all the stir and controversy of the previous\ncenturies it had at last arrived at a period of contented enjoyment\nof its own resources: the long drawn-out struggle, the restless\nyears of search were now held to have borne fruit. In philosophy at\nleast there was a distinct slackening of the insatiable zeal and\nboldness of individual thinkers in posing new questions and wresting\nanswers or in seeking for fresh solutions to old problems. A few\ngreat systems, formulated in accordance with the fixed tenets of the\nvarious schools of thought, still offered a refuge to those who\ndemanded fixity and definition in their opinions; for centuries they\nkept up their special traditions without serious alteration until\nthey, too, fell in pieces at last. A greater measure of independence\nand variety was displayed by the special sciences which since they\nhad now been completely released for the first time from the\nleading-strings of philosophy proceeded to develop freely in\naccordance with their own principles. Art, too, was by no means\ndevoid as yet of originality and attractiveness, and in spite of the\noverwhelming achievements of the past refused to be driven {492}\ninto a position of subservience and imitation. But it was no longer,\nin conjunction with the peculiar customs and manners of a people,\nthe mistress and dispenser of wisdom and knowledge of the world. Art\nbecomes a plaything and an incidental diversion: it is science that\ndetermines the general character and content of culture. But this\nscientifically minded culture shares in the natural temper of all\nscience. Science has its feet firmly planted in life itself: it\nkeeps men's minds actively employed in this world; it has small\ntemptation to leave the firm ground of what is knowable and can\nnever be too well known, to voyage out into the region of the\nintangible which can never be a subject of scientific inquiry. A\ncool rationalism, a calm adherence to the intelligible and\nthinkable, without any leanings to the gloomy terrors of a\nmysterious world of the unknown--such is the temper that marks the\nscience and culture of the Hellenistic age and marks it more\ndistinctively than any other period of Greek culture. Such mysticism\nas was still vigorous and effective kept itself timidly in the\nbackground at this time; in the everyday world it is rather the\ndirect contrary of mysticism that we are made aware of; the unlovely\nresults of the prevailing rationalism, a bleak reasonableness, a\nknowing and prosaic common sense such as stares dully at us from the\npages of Polybios' History as the point of view of the narrator\nhimself and of those of whom he writes. It was no age of heroes or\nof the heroic. A weaker and more delicate generation holds the\nfield. The breakdown of political life and the disappearance of its\nobligations made it more possible than it had ever been before for\nthe individual to lead his own life in his own way.[2\\14] And he\nmakes the most of his freedom, his culture, the treasures of an\ninward, private life enriched with all the brilliance and charm of\nan old and perfected civilization. All the past had thought and\nlaboured on his behalf; he is not idle, but he is busy without ever\nbeing in a hurry, enjoying his heritage and taking his ease in the\ncooling sunlight of the long drawn-out autumn of Greek life. And he\nis little concerned to inquire what may follow when this brilliant,\nmany-coloured world that surrounds him shall have vanished from his\ngaze. This world is all in all to him. The hope or fear of\nimmortality has little effect upon the educated people of the\nage.[3\\14] Philosophy to which in one form or another they are all\nmore or less closely attached teaches them according to its\nparticular mood to cherish that hope or calmly to set it to one\nside: in none of the popular sects {493} had the doctrine of the\neternity or imperishable nature of the soul any serious significance\nas the central doctrine of a system. Natural science ruled the day,\nwhile theology remained in the background and could only obtain a\ndoubtful hearing (if it was even listened to at all) for its\nproclamation of the divine origin and everlasting life of the souls.\n\n\u00a7 2\n\nAt the outset of this period, and illuminating a long stretch of it\nwith the light of his genius, stands the figure of Aristotle. In\nwhat this master _di color' che sanno_ had to say of the soul's\nnature and destiny two voices are distinctly audible. The soul, he\ninstructs us, is that which in a living and organic physical body\nbrings the potentially existing to actual existence. It is the\n_form_ to the body's matter, the culmination of the capacities of\nindependent life residing in the particular body. Bodiless and\nimmaterial itself, it is not the outcome of the mixture of the\nvarious parts of the body; it is the cause, not the resultant, of\nthe vital functions of its body which exists for the soul's benefit\nas its \"instrument\".[4\\14] It dwells within a natural organism and\nthough it is itself unmoved it moves that organism as the source of\nits growth and nourishment, of its desires and locomotion, of its\nfeeling and perceiving; while in the higher organisms it acts as the\ncombination of all these faces. It is as little to be thought of as\nseparate from the body--its own body--as the power of vision is in\nseparation from the eye or as its shape from the moulded waxen\nimage.[5\\14] Theoretically, indeed, it is possible to distinguish\nbetween body and soul, but actually and in the animated organism\nthey cannot be distinguished. When the living creature dies the\nmatter of which it was composed loses it special adaptation to a\npurposeful organism, and this adaptation was its life; without it\nthere can be no independent \"Substance\" (~ousi/a~).[6\\14] The Form,\nthe functional power of the once living organism, its \"soul\", has no\nlonger any independent existence.\n\nThis is the voice of Aristotle the physicist when he is speaking\nfrom the standpoint of a physical doctrine which includes the study\nof the soul \"in so far as it occurs not without matter\".[7\\14]\nAristotle the metaphysician takes us further. In the soul of man,\nbesides the vital powers of the organized individual, there lives a\nspiritual being of more than natural character and origin, the\n\"Mind\"--\"that in us which thinks and conceives\".[8\\14] This thinking\nmind is not bound to the body and its life.[9\\14] It does not come\ninto being with the creation of the human organism which is\ncompleted by the addition of Mind. It has no beginning and was\nuncreated from eternity:[10\\14] it enters into man at his creation\n\"from without\".[11\\14] Even while it lives within the body it\nremains unmingled with the body and its powers and uninfluenced by\nthem.[12\\14] Enclosed within itself it lives its separate life as\nsomething quite other than the \"soul\" (of which it is nevertheless\ncalled a \"part\"[13\\14]) and separated from it by a gulf. Comparable\nwith the God of Aristotle's world it transcends what might be called\nits \"little world\",[14\\14] the living human organism. It influences\nthat organism without being influenced in turn. It is akin to God;\nit is called the \"divine\" in man.[15\\14] Its activity is the same as\nthat of God.[16\\14] God--pure substance, unlimited, highest,\neverlasting actuality--is absolute and perpetually operant\nthinking.[17\\14] All practical activity, doing and creating, is far\nremoved from God.[18\\14] So, too, the \"Mind\" is entirely occupied in\nthinking (though here there is some alternation perhaps between the\npotential and the actual).[19\\14] It grasps, in an intuition of the\nintellect that is beyond failure and error,[20\\14] the \"unmediated\"\nfirst principles, the first and highest concepts, immediately\ncertain and not deducible from still higher concepts, from which all\nknowledge and philosophy is derived.[21\\14]\n\nIn its association with the body and its \"soul\" this thinking Reason\nlives as \"the ruling\"[22\\14] element over both--not, however, as the\n\"realization\" of this particular individual creature. The Mind is\nindeed said to be that which the individual man \"is\",[23\\14] and\nwithout the addition of Mind the man could not exist, but the\nspecial and personal character belonging to the individual is not to\nbe found in this reasoning Mind.[24\\14] Mind is totally devoid of\ndistinguishable qualities and is identical in every case where it\nappears; it is invariably foreign to the separate and individual\ncharacter of the man to whom it is added, and hardly seems to be\n_his_ peculiar property.\n\nWhen death occurs the thinking \"Mind\" is not involved in the\ndestruction which overtakes the human organism with which it was\nassociated. Death does not affect it. Like everything that is\nwithout beginning it is indestructible.[25\\14] It returns again to\nits separate existence. Like the great World-Mind, God, and in\ncompany with it--for it has not sprung from God and does not merge\nagain into God--the individual Mind of man continues in unending\nlife.[26\\14] It {495} disappears now into impenetrable darkness. The\nseparate existence of the Mind is beyond not merely our perception\nbut our conceiving as well--persisting for itself alone, Mind has no\nmental activity, no memory and no consciousness; indeed, it is\nimpossible to say what special qualities or activity can be\nattributed to it beyond the simple predicate of existence, of\nbeing.[27\\14]\n\nIn the doctrine of this thinking Mind which is associated with the\nhuman soul \"from without\" and never merges into it, of its\npre-existence from eternity, its kinship with God and its\nimperishable life after its separation from the human organism--in\nall this Aristotle preserves a mythological element taken from the\ndogmatic teaching of Plato.\n\nThere was a time when he had been a complete Platonist precisely in\nhis doctrine of the soul. In his youth, like other members of the\nAcademy, he had yielded[28\\14] to the fascination of clothing in\nartistic and perfected language brilliant fantasies about the\norigin, nature, and destiny of the soul--the divine daimon[29\\14]\ninhabiting the mortal frame of man. Later, however, it seemed\ninconceivable to him that \"any soul may inhabit any body\".[30\\14] He\ncould only conceive of the \"soul\" of the individual man as a\nrealization of the life of this entirely distinct and physical\norganism, to which it is indissolubly bound as the purpose and form\nof the particular instrument. All the vital powers as well as\nappetite, perception, memory, and reflective thought, appeared to\nhim merely as the modes of activity manifested by the animated body\nwhich is itself unthinkable apart from its \"soul\". And yet he still\npreserved a relic of the old dualistic opposition between the body\nand the independent substantial soul--the same conception of the\nsoul, in fact, as that which Plato had himself, in the later period\nof his philosophical development, alone retained. This was as the\ncontemplative Mind which is occupied in apprehending the highest\ntruths in intellectual intuition; and this mind is, according to\nAristotle, not to be included in the \"soul\", but to be separated\nfrom it as a special being that has descended from the heights of\ndivinity and has been coupled with the soul from without and for its\nlimited period of life. The origin of this conception of a\nreduplicated soul is plain: it is derived from memories of Plato and\nbeyond that from theological doctrine which was itself in the last\nresort but a spiritualized restatement of primeval popular fancies\nof the psyche that dwells in the living body. But though he took\nover the doctrine he did not take over the special sense that {496}\nthe theologians had given to it: he omitted both the conclusions\nthey drew and the exhortations they based upon it. We hear no more\nof the \"purification\" of the divine Mind within mankind. It has\nnothing impure or evil in it nor can any breath of pollution affect\nit from without. The effort towards the \"other world\" of purity, the\ndenial and rejection of its earthly partner the living body, are\nforeign to the \"Mind\" of Aristotle.[31\\14] It has no impulse to\n\"deliverance\" or self-emancipation; it knows of no peculiar task\nthat points beyond this world. The presence of this \"separable\" Mind\nin the living man is an assured fact, and nothing more: no purpose\nin life is deducible from it. The fact itself seemed to be evident\nfrom the power that man possesses of grasping immediately a highest\nform of knowledge that is beyond demonstration, not as the result of\nthe mental activity of his soul, for the apprehension is prior to\nthe soul, but by means of a higher spiritual faculty, a special\nintellectual being that seemed to proclaim its presence and\nexistence within man in this way. It is thus by way of a theory of\nknowledge not of a theological doctrine that we arrive at the\ndistinction between \"Mind\" and \"Soul\". But the doctrine thus\nreasserted was in reality nothing but the old doctrine of the\ntheologians. This \"Mind\", too, seems to the thinker to be a being\nakin to God. The pure contemplative existence, a life consisting in\nthe contemplation of the final objects of intuition is counted as a\nprivilege of the divine and of all divine beings, as the true\npurpose of vital energy and of its manifestation; and in the\ndescription of this state the sober reserve of his lecture style\nseems to be uplifted and almost illuminated with the warmth and\nbrilliance imparted by a genuine glow of personal experience.[32\\14]\nThis pure activity of contemplation, finding its deepest\nsatisfaction in itself, belongs to the divine in man--to the Mind;\nits whole life lies in this. This activity, however, the Mind\nperforms and finishes in this life, while it is united with the body\nand the body's \"soul\". There is nothing left that can be thought of\nas forming the content of the life and activity of the Mind in its\nseparate existence after the completion of its period of life on\nearth. Mind and the man with whom it is associated can hardly have a\nvery urgent desire for that emancipation in \"another world\" which is\nthus left blank and without content for our thought. The thought of\nimmortality cast in this form could no longer possess any real value\nor ethical significance for man.[33\\14] It arises from a logical\ndeduction, from metaphysical considerations, not {497} from a demand\nof the spirit. It lacks not only the distinctness that might have\nappealed to the senses and given direction to the imagination, but\nthe power (or the intention) of playing a leading part in the\nconduct or direction of life on this earth. There is no inspiration\nin this doctrine--not even for the philosopher, though it was to him\nand his activity and his efforts that the picture and panegyric of\n\"Mind\", the philosopher in man, had really referred.\n\nIt was quite possible to abide by the teaching and philosophy of\nAristotle, directed as it was to the observation and interpretation\nof the things of this world, while abandoning the advanced post of\nthe doctrine of Mind--that Being which has sunk to the level of this\nworld from the other world of divinity, which separates itself, with\nthe death of man, once more to everlasting divine life though hardly\nto a continuation of individual existence. On this point in\nparticular free discussion of the master's teaching maintained\nitself in his school: some, and by no means the weakest, of\nAristotle's successors denied altogether and in every form the\ndoctrine of immortality.[34\\14]\n\n\u00a7 3\n\nThe dogmatic teaching of the Stoics on the subject of the human soul\nis closely bound up with the materialistic pantheism by means of\nwhich they explained all the phenomena of life, of being and\nbecoming upon earth. God is All, and divinity is nothing outside\nthis \"all\", which forms the world: the Universe is God. God is thus\nnot only the matter but the form, the life and the power of the\nworld. Divinity is the original matter, the etherial Fire, the fiery\n\"breath\" which maintains itself or changes and in innumerable\nmetamorphoses creates the world. God is also what supplies a purpose\nto this world and is the purposeful force--the reason and law of the\nworld. The universal deity which is thus at once matter, mind, and\nformative principle sends out from itself at varying periods the\nmultiplicity of Appearance and then again at another time takes back\nthe multifarious and the divided into the fiery unity of its own\nbreath of life. Thus, in everything that has shape, in everything\nthat lives and moves, the content and the unifying form is God: he\nis and works as their \"state\" in inorganic things, as \"nature\" in\nplants, as \"irrational soul\" in the other living things, as rational\nand thinking soul in man.[35\\14] {498}\n\nThe soul of man, thus endowed with reason, is a fragment of the\ndivine,[36\\14] and is itself divine like everything else in the\nworld but in a purer sense than all other things. It has remained\ncloser to the first and original essence of the divine, conceived as\n\"creative fire\" (~pu=r technik\u00f4/n~), than the earthly fire which has\nlost much of its original purity and refinement. It is closer[37\\14]\nthan the lower matter that in all its changeful forms degenerates\nprogressively as it gets farther and farther away from the divine\nfire by gradual loss of the tension (~to/nos~) that had once been\nliving and active in the primeval fire; closer even than the\nmaterial of its own body in which it dwells and rules. As something\nessentially distinct from the body, then, the individual soul comes\ninto being among the elements of its body when that body is\nconceived, and it develops its full nature after the birth of the\nindividual.[38\\14] But even in its individual, separate existence it\nremains incompletely detached from the universal life that is\npresent in it; it remains subject to the \"universal Law\" of the\nworld, which is God, and fast bound by \"fate\", the \"destiny\"\n(~pepr\u00f4me/n\u00ea, heimarme/ne~) which decrees the course of their\nexistence for the totality of all Life and the individual\nlives.[39\\14] Nevertheless, the soul has its special gifts and\nspecial task--it is capable of self-determination and is responsible\nfor its own decisions and acts. Though it is a pure emanation from\nthe universal Reason and bound down to no irrational elements, it\nhas the power of irrational choice and can resolve upon what is\nevil. Though they have all sprung from one and the same original\nsource the individual souls are of very different character,\nintellect, and propensity of will. Unreason in thought, will, and\nconduct is common in the world; those who have real insight are few;\nin fact, the Wise Man, the man who keeps his own will in complete\nharmony with the universal and divine direction of the world, is but\na picture of imaginary perfection, _natur\u00e6 human\u00e6 exemplar_, never\nfully and perfectly realized in actual life.\n\nEthical interests demanded the freedom and independence of the moral\npersonality and its will, which can only fulfil the requirements of\nduty by self-mastery and the overthrow of base impulses; but this\nindependence was in conflict with the essential principles of Stoic\nmetaphysics. The Stoics taught that the world (and the soul included\nin it) is only the necessary self-development of a single and\nabsolute Being that excludes all independent and separate\nmultiplicity. Nor could they recognize any principle of Evil, an\nanti-rational principle answering to the purity of divine power,\nworking {499} evil and suggesting it, and making the individual\ncapable of wilful disobedience to the laws of all-embracing\ndivinity. Pure pantheism, uniting God and the world in indissoluble\nunity, cannot imagine a real conflict between humanity and divinity;\nit cannot postulate a principle of Evil through the overthrow of\nwhich a lost unity with God is to be restored. Pantheism makes no\nclaims of an ethical or religious kind. The ingenuity of the Stoic\ndoctors was exercised in vain in the attempt to find a way out of\nthis dilemma.[40\\14]\n\nFrom the very origin of the school two tendencies were discernible\nin the teaching of the Stoa, derived as that teaching was from such\ndifferent sources. On the one hand, the ethical doctrine of the\nCynics, to whom the Stoics owed the greater part of their practical\nteaching, threw the individual back upon his own resources and made\neverything depend upon the determination of his own will. It thus\npointed in the direction of the most self-sufficient\nindividualism--to an ethical atomism. The physical doctrine derived\nfrom Herakleitos, on the other hand, merged the individual\ncompletely into the omnipotence and omnipresence of the All-One; and\ntherefore, as its ethical counterpart, demanded that this relation\nof the individual to the universal Logos of the world should find\nexpression in a life lived completely _ex ductu rationis_, in\nunconditional abandonment of the individual will to the Universal\nMind that is the World and God.[41\\14] In actual fact it was\nCynicism that had the profounder influence in ethical matters. The\nuniversal Law and order of the world, embracing both universe and\nindividual in its absolute decrees, threw its net too widely to be\nable to answer closely enough to the needs of narrow and individual\nexistence. No practical ethics could possibly unite this distant and\nfinal aim with the individual man in a single nexus of ordered\nself-determination. The intermediate link between the universe and\nits laws, on the one hand, and the individual with his private will,\non the other, had formerly been the Greek _polis_ with its law and\ncustom. But it was a cosmopolitan age, and for the Stoics as well as\nfor the Cynics before them the city-state had lost most of its\neducative force. The individual saw himself more and more left to\nhis own devices and forced to depend upon his own strength--his life\nhad to be ordered on self-erected standards and guided by self-found\nrules. Individualism, which gave its tone to the age more decisively\nthan in any past period of Greek life, began to win a footing even\nin this pantheistic system. The \"Wise Man\" who is a law to himself\nin perfect {500} self-determination,[42\\14] and feels himself bound\nonly to those like himself,[43\\14] is individualism's fairest\nflower.\n\nBut the soul, thus elevated to a height where it was capable of much\nthat was impossible for or only incompletely within the reach of its\nweaker sisters, began more and more to seem like something rather\ndifferent from a mere dependent offshoot of the One divine power\nthat is the same everywhere. It is, in fact, regarded as an\nindependent, divine, and self-enclosed creature in those passages\nwhere in Stoic literature, as in the older literature of the\ntheologians, the soul is called a \"daimon\"--the daimon dwelling\nwithin the individual man, and given to him as his associate.[44\\14]\nDeath, too, is regarded by this professedly monist system as a\nseparation of soul from body[45\\14] in accordance with what was\nreally a naive or a conscious spiritualism. In death, then, this\nsoul-essence whose independence had been so marked even in life,\ndoes not perish with the body--it does not even lose itself again in\nthe One from which it had taken its origin. An infinitely extended\nindividual life is indeed not attributed to the individual souls:\nonly God, the one Soul of the World, is eternally\nindestructible.[46\\14] But the souls which have arisen by separation\nfrom the one and all-embracing divinity, survive the destruction of\ntheir bodies: until the final dissolution, in the Conflagration that\nwill make an end of the present period of world-history, they\npersist in their independent life; either all of them (as was the\nolder teaching of the school) or, as Chrysippos, the master of Stoic\northodoxy, taught the souls of the \"Wise\" only, while the others\nhave been lost in the general life of the Whole some time\npreviously.[47\\14] The stronger ethical personality is held together\nin itself for a longer time.[48\\14]\n\nFrom the point of view of physical science and materialist\ndoctrine[49\\14] it was also hard to see why the soul, composed of\npure fire-breath, which even in life had held the body together and\nhad not been held together by the body,[50\\14] should disappear at\nonce when that body was disintegrated. As it had once held the body\ntogether, so it might well and all the more easily hold itself\ntogether now. Its lightness carries it upwards into the pure air\nunder the moon, where it is fed by the breath that rises upwards and\nwhere there is nothing that can put an end to it.[51\\14] An\n\"underworld\" region like that of popular imagination and theological\nteaching, was expressly denied by the Stoics.[52\\14] Their\nimagination preferred to exercise itself in an imaginary extension\nof life in the Aether, which was their region of {501} the\nsouls;[53\\14] but as a rule it appears that such flights of fancy\nwere avoided. The life of the souls after death--that of the wise as\nwell as of the unwise--remained indistinct and without\ncontent[54\\14] in the imagination of those whose life was still upon\nearth.\n\nThus, the doctrine of the soul-personality and its continued\nexistence (never simply expanded into personal immortality), which\nwas in reality not required by the metaphysical principles of\nStoicism, and could indeed hardly be reconciled with them, had in\nfact no serious significance for the general intention and substance\nof Stoicism--least of all for Stoic ethics and conduct of life. The\nphilosophy of Stoicism is directed to the study of life, not of\ndeath. In this life on earth and only here can the purpose of human\nendeavour--the reproduction of divine wisdom and virtue in the human\nspirit--be fulfilled in manful contest with contrary impulses,\nfulfilled, that is, in so far as such a thing is possible for lonely\nand isolated fragments of divinity.[55\\14]\n\nBut virtue is sufficient in itself for the attainment of\nhappiness--a happiness which loses nothing through the brevity of\nits duration and to which nothing would be added by the prolongation\nof its span.[56\\14] Nothing in the doctrine of Stoicism points man,\nor the Wise Man, to another world beyond the life of the body and\noutside this earthly theatre of conflict and duty, for the\nfulfilment of his being and his task.\n\n\u00a7 4\n\nThe limited doctrine of immortality which, as we have seen, was not\nan essential part of the teaching of Stoicism, began to be called in\nquestion as soon as the rigid dogmatism of the school was subjected\nto the too-searching criticism of other schools of thought. In the\nclash of opinions Stoicism began to be doubtful of the absolute\nvalidity of its own teaching. The boundaries of orthodox doctrine\nonce so firmly drawn now became more fluid; exchange and even\ncompromise became common. Panaitios, the first writer among the\npedantic professors of Stoicism to achieve a wider popularity for\nhis writings, became the teacher and friend of those aristocratic\nRomans who found in Greek philosophy the impulse to a humanism that\nthe barren soil of Rome could never have produced unaided. And\nPanaitios differed in more than one point from the strict orthodoxy\nof the older Stoicism. For him the soul is formed of two distinct\nelements[57\\14]--it is no longer simple and undivided, but {502}\ncompounded of \"Nature\" and \"Soul\" (in the narrower sense).[58\\14] In\ndeath these two elements separate and change into other forms. The\nsoul having had its origin at a particular point in past time now\nperishes in time. Being capable of grief and subject to the\ndestructive influence of the emotions it falls a victim at last to\nits own pains. Panaitios, while remaining a Stoic, taught the\ndissolution of the soul, its death and simultaneous destruction with\nthe death of the body.[59\\14]\n\nHis pupil Poseidonios, who as a writer possessed an even greater\ninfluence than Panaitios with the great majority of cultivated\nreaders who belonged to no special school of thought, returned to\nthe older Stoic doctrine of the simple and undivided nature of the\nsoul as fiery breath. He distinguished three faculties but not three\nseparate and independent elements in the human soul, and as a\nconsequence of this view had no further need to believe in the\ndissolution of the soul into its component parts at death. He also\ndenied the origin of the individual soul in time, from which the\ndoctrine of its destruction in time had seemed to follow by a\nlogical necessity. He returned to the old theological idea of the\npre-existence of the soul, its life since the beginning of the\ncreated world; and could therefore go on to assert its continued\nexistence after death--at least till the time of the next\ndestruction of the World at the hands of omnipotent Fire.[60\\14]\n\nIt was not an inward and private necessity that led to this\ntransformation of the old teaching of the School. Doubts and\ncriticisms levelled at it from outside--from the Sceptics in\nparticular--had necessitated the change. While some gave up the\nstruggle, others sought refuge in a re-arrangement of the figures of\nthe dialectical game and by the introduction of fresh\ncharacters.[61\\14] Immortality might be abandoned to criticism or\nreaffirmed in either case with equal indifference. The Platonic and\npoetic version of Stoicism provided by Poseidonios may have found a\nwider response among the readers of a highly cultivated society who\nfelt the need of a doctrine of immortality more as a satisfaction to\nthe artistic fancy than from any deeper or more temperamental\ncauses. Cicero, the most eloquent representative of the Hellenized\nRoman culture of the time, may perhaps give us a picture of the\nrefined and \u00e6sthetic partiality with which these ideas were taken\nup. In the _Dream of Scipio_ and the first book of the _Tusculans_,\nhe gives an account, mainly based on Poseidonios, of the belief then\nheld of a continued life of the soul in the divine element of the\nAether.[62\\14] {503}\n\n\u00a7 5\n\nStoicism had a long and vigorous life. More than ever during the\nfirst and second centuries of our era did it fulfil its real task of\nacting as a practical guide to conduct, not as a mere museum of dead\nerudition. It made good its claim to provide its adherents with the\nautonomous freedom and independence of a mind at peace with itself,\nwhose virtue was proof against the tribulation and failure of life,\nand not corrupted by its plenty. It was not always blind imitation\nof a literary fashion or the love of displaying virtuous paradoxes\nthat attracted the noblest of the higher Roman aristocracy to the\ndoctrines of Stoicism. Not a few of them guided their lives in\naccordance with its principles and even died for their convictions.\nNot entirely \"without tragic emotion\", as the Stoic Emperor would\nprefer it, but at any rate with conscious and deliberate\npurpose--not in mere unreasoning **stubbornness[63\\14]--did these\nStoic martyrs go to their death. Nor was it the unquestioned\ncertainty of a continued life in a higher existence that made them\nso ready to give up life upon this earth.[64\\14] Each in the special\nmanner dictated to him by his own temperament and the circumstances\nof his life, they still speak to us, these leaders of Roman\nStoicism--Seneca the philosophic director of the world's conscience,\nMarcus Aurelius the Emperor, and those instructors and patterns of\nthe aspiring youth of Rome, Musonius and Epictetus. The eager and\nunswerving effort of these wise men to educate themselves to the\nattainment of freedom and peace, of purity and goodness of heart,\nwins our admiration--not least in the case of Seneca in whom the\nstruggle for self-mastery and philosophic calm must have been a\ncontinual war with his own too-receptive and imaginative nature. But\njust as they looked for no supernatural helper and redeemer but\ntrusted to the power of their own spirit for the assurance of\nsuccess, so they required no promise of a future crowning of their\nlabours in an after-life of the soul. The whole scope of their\nendeavour lies within the limits of this world. The old Stoic belief\nin the continued life of the individual soul until the annihilation\nof all separate creation in the World Conflagration[65\\14] is\nregarded at the best as one possibility among many[66\\14]--it is\nperhaps but a \"beautiful dream\".[67\\14] But whether death is a\ntransition to another form of being or a complete termination of\nindividual life--to the wise man it is equally welcome, for he\nmeasures the value of life not by the number {504} of its years but\nby the richness of its content. At bottom Seneca is inclined to the\nview that death is the end of all things for man, after which\n\"everlasting peace\" awaits the restless spirit.[68\\14]\n\nThe Stoic Emperor is uncertain whether death is a dissipation of the\nelements of the soul (as the atomists teach) or whether the mind\nsurvives in a conscious or an unconscious existence that must yet\ndisappear eventually in the life of the Whole. All things are in\nperpetual flux--so the Law of the universe has willed it--nor shall\nthe human personality maintain itself untouched and unchanged. But\neven supposing that death is a \"putting out\" of his small individual\ncandle, the wise man is not afraid: to the melancholy that is the\nprevailing mood of his gentle, pure, and high-strung character\nDeath, the annihilator, seems to beckon like a friend.[69\\14]\n\nThe tougher spirit of the Phrygian slave and freedman needed no\nconviction of personal survival to enable him to face the battle of\nearthly life with courage and intrepidity. What has been made must\nbe unmade: without hesitation and without regret the wise man gives\nhimself up to the laws of the rationally-ordered universe in which\nthe present must make way for the future--not indeed to be lost\nentirely, but to be changed and to merge its individuality, its\nunimportant self in new manifestations of the creative stuff of\nLife. The Whole does not perish, but its parts change and alter\ntheir relations among themselves.[70\\14] The pantheistic principles\nof the school which had been taken over from Herakleitos and which\nmade it permanently inconceivable that the diminutive individual\nspark of life could achieve a lasting separation from the central\nfiery mass, had become a settled conviction. The passionate\nabandonment of the personal, short-lived self to the everlasting\nWhole and One had become a fixed habit of mind. No longer did it\nseem intolerable that the individual existence should pass away\nafter a brief span of life; it was possible to remain a Stoic and\nyet assert expressly, like Cornutus the teacher of Persius, that\nwith the death of its body there is an end, too, of the individual\nsoul.[71\\14]\n\n\u00a7 6\n\nThe atomist doctrine renewed by Epicurus demanded in the most\nemphatic manner of its adherents that they should abandon the belief\nin personal survival.\n\nFor the atomist the soul is corporeal, a compound made {505} up of\nthe most mobile of the atoms which form the plastic elements of air\nand fire. It occupies all parts of the body, and is held together by\nthe body, while at the same time, and in spite of this, holding\nitself in essential distinctness from the body.[72\\14] Epicurus also\nspeaks of the \"Soul\" as a special and enduring substance within the\nbody, a \"part\" of the corporeal, not a mere \"harmony\" resulting from\nthe association of the parts of the body.[73\\14] He even speaks of\ntwo parts or modes of manifestation in the \"soul\"; the irrational,\nwhich holds the whole body in its sway as its vital force, and the\nrational, situated in the breast, which exercises will and\nintelligence and is the last and most essential source of life in\nliving things, without the undivided presence of which death\noccurs.[74\\14] _Anima_ and _animus_ (as Lucretius calls them),\ndistinct but not separable from one another,[75\\14] come into being\nin the embryo of man and grow to maturity, old age and decay,\ntogether with the body.[76\\14] If death occurs it means that the\natoms belonging to the body are separated and the soul-atoms\nwithdrawn--even before the final dissolution of the body, the\nseparable \"soul\" disappears. No longer held together by the body, it\nis blown away in the wind, it disappears \"like smoke\" in the\nair.[77\\14] The soul, this soul that had animated the individual\nman, is no more.[78\\14] The material elements of which it was\ncomposed are indestructible; it is quite possible that they may at\nsome future time combine together with the life-stuff to produce new\nlife and consciousness of exactly the same kind as had once been\njoined together in the living man. But, if so, it will be a new\ncreature that thus comes into being: the original man has been\nannihilated by death; there is no bond of continuous consciousness\nuniting him with the fresh creation.[79\\14] The vital forces of the\nworld are continuous, undiminished, indestructible, but in the\nformation of the individual living creature they are only lent\ntemporarily, for this occasion and for a brief period, after which\nthey are withdrawn for ever from the particular creature. _Vitaque\nmancipio nulli datur, omnibus usu._\n\nAfter his death the individual is unaffected by the fate of his\ninanimate body;[80\\14] nor should he be troubled by the thought of\nwhat may happen to the atoms of his soul. Death does not concern him\nat all; for he only is when death is not; where death is, he is no\nlonger there.[81\\14] Sensation and consciousness have left him at\nthe dissolution of body and soul; what he cannot possibly feel\naffects him no longer. Epicurean maxims are never tired of driving\nhome {506} this proposition: death is nothing to us.[82\\14] From\nevery possible direction, from abstract principle and practical\nexperience in actual life, Lucretius labours to demonstrate the\ntruth of this view[83\\14] as ardently as other philosophers seek to\nprove its opposite. Physical science has no more valuable service to\nrender than that of convincing us of its truth.[84\\14] Just as the\nwisdom of Epicurus has no other purpose than to protect man, of all\ncreatures the one most sensitive to pain, from distress and\nanguish--and even pleasure is but the removal of pain--so more\nparticularly, in putting an end to the fear of death and the craving\nafter unceasing life, it serves this finite life itself,[85\\14] that\nis committed to us once and for all and never repeated.[86\\14] If a\nman has once succeeded in realizing that he will cease to be in the\nmoment of death's coming, he will neither be oppressed with terror\nat the threatened loss of self-consciousness nor will the terrors of\neternity[87\\14] or the fabulous monsters of the spirit-world below\nthe earth[88\\14] darken his existence by casting their dark shadow\nover all his life.[89\\14] He will devote himself to life without\nrepining, neither fearing death nor seeking it.[90\\14]\n\nHe alone--the ideal Wise Man of the Epicurean faith--will know how\nto live as the true artist of his own life;[91\\14] he will not waste\nthe precious time in vain preparations for the future,[92\\14] but\nwill cram every moment to the full so that his brief span of\nexistence will have all that a long life could give. Long life, in\nfact, even life without an end, would not make him any happier or\nany richer. What life has to offer it has already offered--anything\nfurther must only be a repetition of what has gone before: _eadem\nsunt omnia semper._[93\\14] The Wise Man has no reason even to look\nfor an eternity of life.[94\\14] In his own personality, in this\npresent \"now\", he possesses all the conditions necessary to\nhappiness. The very transience of this supreme happiness to which\nmortality can attain makes it seem the more valuable to him. To the\ndevelopment and the enjoyment of this, the only life that belongs to\nhim he will devote himself exclusively. In ethical matters, too, the\natomist doctrine holds good. There is no such thing in nature as an\nessential community of human beings--still less of humanity--there\nare only individuals.[95\\14] In associations entered into by free\nand unforced choice the individual may attach himself to the\nindividual as one friend to another; but the political societies\nthat men have invented and set up among themselves have no\nobligations for the Wise Man. He is himself the centre and indeed\nthe whole circumference of the world surrounding {507} him. State\nand society are valuable, and indeed only exist for the protection\nof the individual and to make it possible for him under their\nenfolding care to develop his own personality in freedom.[96\\14] The\nindividual, on the other hand, does not exist for the state, but for\nhimself. \"It is no longer necessary to save the Hellenes or to win\ncrowns of victory from them in contests of wisdom.\"[97\\14] Such is\nthe decision reached with a sigh of relief by a civilization that\nhas attained the highest point of its development and is now\novercome by a lassitude in which it no longer sets itself new tasks,\nbut takes its ease as age may be permitted to do. In its lassitude\nit no longer hopes, and in all honesty no longer cares, to extend\nthe period of its existence beyond the limits of this earthly life.\nCalm and untroubled it sees this life, dear though it may once have\nbeen, fade away, taking its leave and sinking into nothingness\nwithout a struggle.\n\n\nNOTES TO CHAPTER XIV\n\nPART I\n\n\n[1\\14: At first the philosophy of Plato's old age lived on in spirit\nin the Academy. Just as his pupils carried on his Pythagorean\nspeculations about numbers, reduced his imaginative suggestions as\nto a daimonic nature intermediate between that of God and man to\npedantic system, and elaborated the theological strain in his\nthought to a gloomy and burdensome _deisidaimonia_ (witness esp. the\n_Epinomis_ of Philippos of Opos and in addition all that we know of\nXenokrates' speculations)--so too they retained and respected for a\ntime the Platonic doctrine of the soul and the ascetic tendency in\nhis ethical teaching. For Philippos of Opos the aim of all human\nendeavour is a final and blessed emancipation from this world\n(which, however, is only possible for a few of those who are, in his\nspecial manner, \"wise\"--973 C ff., 992 C). He is a mystic for whom\nthis earth and its life fall away into nothing: all serious interest\nis confined to the contemplation of divine things such as are\nrevealed in mathematics and astronomy. Again, the Platonic doctrine\nof the soul, in its mystic and world-renouncing sense, lies at the\nbottom of the fabulous narratives of Herakleides Pontikos (in the\n~A/baris, Empedo/timos~, etc.). This, too, accounts for the youthful\nattempts in this direction of Aristotle himself (in the ~Eu/d\u00eamos~\nand probably also in the ~Protreptiko/s~). This side of his doctrine\nwas as it seems systematized from the standpoint of the latest stage\nof Platonism by Xenokrates in particular. It may be merely accident\nthat we do not hear very reliably of anything indicating an ascetic\ntendency or an \"other-worldly\" effort after **emancipation of the\nsoul in connexion with Xenokrates. Krantor (in his much-read book\n~peri\\ pe/nthous~) was already capable of employing the Platonic\ndoctrine of the soul and the imaginative fancies that could be\nattached to it simply as a literary adornment. And before him his\nteacher Polemon betrays a turning aside from the true Platonic\nmysticism. With Arkesilaos the last vestige of this whole type of\nthought disappears completely.]\n\n[2\\14: ~toi=s _eleuthe/rois h\u00ea/kista_ e/xestin ho/ ti e/tuche\npoiei=n, alla pa/nta \u00ea\\ ta\\ plei=sta te/taktai~, Arist., _Meta._\n1075a, 19 (in maxima fortuna minima licentia est, Sall., _C._ 51,\n13). Freedom in _this_ sense indeed was a thing of the past.]\n\n[3\\14: Not that such hopes or fears were entirely absent. The reader\nwill remember the case of Kleombrotos of Ambrakia (Call., _Ep._ 25),\nwho by reading the _Phaedo_ of Plato (and completely\nmisunderstanding the meaning of the prophet, as not unfrequently\nhappens) was led to seek an immediate entrance into the life of the\nother world by a violent break with this one--and committed suicide.\nThis is an isolated example of a mood to which Epiktetos bears\nwitness as common in his own much later time--the desire felt by\nmany young men of ardent temperament to escape from the distracted\nlife of humanity and return as quickly as possible to the universal\nlife of God by the destruction of their own individual existence:\nEpict. 1, 9, 11 ff. But in the earlier period such violent\nmanifestations of other-worldly fanaticism were of rare occurrence.\nHedonism was {509} capable of leading to the same result as we may\nsee from the ~Apokarter\u00f4=n~ of Hegesias the Cyrenaic, called ~ho\npeisitha/natos~, whom Cicero mentions together with this same\nKleombrotos: _TD._ i, 83-4.]\n\n[4\\14: ~to\\ s\u00f4=ma/ p\u00f4s t\u00ea=s psuch\u00ea=s he/neken (ge/gonei)~, as ~ho\npri/\u00f4n t\u00ea=s pri/se\u00f4s he/neka~--and not vice versa: _PA._ 1, 5, 645b,\n19.]\n\n[5\\14: The ~psuch\u00ea/~ is related to the body as ~o/psis~ is to the\neye, i.e. as the effective power residing in the ~o/rganon~ (not\nlike ~ho/rasis~, the individual act of vision). It is the ~_pr\u00f4/t\u00ea_\nentele/cheia~ of its body _de An._ ii, 1, 412a, 27. There is no\n~su/nthesis~ of ~s\u00f4=ma~ and ~psuch\u00ea/~: they are simply \"together\"\nlike the wax and the ball formed out of the wax: _Top._ 151a, 20\nff.; _GA._ 729b, 9 ff.; _de An._ 412b, 7.]\n\n[6\\14: ~apelthou/s\u00eas gou=n (t\u00ea=s psuch\u00ea=s) ou/keti z\u00f4=|o/n estin,\noude\\ t\u00f4=n mori/\u00f4n oude\\n to\\ auto\\ lei/petai, pl\u00ea\\n t\u00f4=| sch\u00ea/mati\nmo/non katha/per ta\\ mutheuo/mena lithou=sthai~, _PA._ 641a, 18.]\n\n[7\\14: _Meta._ 1026a, 5: ~peri\\ psuch\u00ea=s eni/as the\u00f4r\u00ea=sai tou=\nphusikou=, ho/s\u00ea m\u00ea\\ a/neu t\u00ea=s hul\u00ea=s esti/n.--oude\\ ga\\r pa=sa\npsuch\u00ea\\ phu/sis, alla/ ti mo/rion aut\u00ea=s~, _PA._ 641b, 9. The\nsubject of ~to\\ kech\u00f4risme/non~ of the soul is studied by ~ho\npr\u00f4=tos philo/sophos~: _de An._ 403b, 16.]\n\n[8\\14: ~le/g\u00f4 de\\ nou=n, h\u00f4=| dianoei=tai kai\\ hupolamba/nei h\u00ea\npsuch\u00ea/~, _de An._ 429a, 23.]\n\n[9\\14: The ~nou=s~ and its ~the\u00f4r\u00eatik\u00ea\\ du/namis e/oike psuch\u00ea=s\nge/nos he/teron ei=nai kai\\ tou=to mo/non ende/chetai ch\u00f4ri/zesthai,\nkatha/per to\\ a\u00ef/dion tou= phthartou=, ta\\ de\\ loipa\\ mo/ria t\u00ea=s\npsuch\u00ea=s ouk e/sti ch\u00f4rista/ ktl.~, _de An._ 413b, 25.]\n\n[10\\14: There can be no doubt that Aristotle's opinion was that\n~nou=s~ was uncreated and existed without beginning from eternity:\nsee Zeller, _Sitzb. Berl. Ak._ 1882, p. 1033 ff.]\n\n[11\\14: ~thu/rathen epeise/rchetai~ into the man as he is being\nmade, _GA._ 736b, 28; cf. ~ho thu/rathen nou=s~, 744b, 21.]\n\n[12\\14: ~nou=s~ is ~apath\u00ea/s, amig\u00ea/s, ou me/miktai t\u00f4=|\ns\u00f4/mati~--it has no physical ~o/rganon~, _de An._ iii, 4. ~oude\\n\nautou= (tou= nou=) t\u00ea=| energei/a| koin\u00f4nei= s\u00f4matik\u00ea\\ ene/rgeia~,\n_GA._ 736b, 28.]\n\n[13\\14: ~mo/rion t\u00ea=s psych\u00ea=s~, _de An._ 429a, 10 ff. ~psuch\u00ea\\ ouch\nho/l\u00ea, all' h\u00ea no\u00eatik\u00ea/~, 429a, 28. ~h\u00ea psuch\u00ea\\ . . . m\u00ea\\ pa=sa all'\nho nou=s~, _Meta._ 1070a, 26.]\n\n[14\\14: The ~z\u00f4=|on~ a ~mikro\\s ko/smos~, _Phys._ 252b, 26.]\n\n[15\\14: ~nou=s, theio/tero/n ti kai\\ apathe/s~, _de An._ 408b,\n29.--~to\\n nou=n thei=on ei=nai mo/non~, _GA._ 736b, 28 (737a, 10).\n~ei/te thei=on ho/n ei/te t\u00f4=n en h\u00eami=n to\\ thei/otaton~, _EN._\n1177a, 15. ~nou=s~ is ~to\\ suggene/staton~ to the gods, 1179a,\n26.--~to\\ anthr\u00f4/p\u00f4n ge/nos \u00ea\\ mo/non mete/chei tou= thei/ou t\u00f4=n\nh\u00eami=n gn\u00f4ri/m\u00f4n z\u00f4/|\u00f4n \u00ea\\ ma/lista pa/nt\u00f4n~, _PA._ 656a, 7.]\n\n[16\\14: ~e/rgon tou= theiota/tou to\\ noei=n kai\\ phronei=n~, _PA._\n686a, 28.]\n\n[17\\14: _Meta._ ~L~ 7, 9.]\n\n[18\\14: _EN._ 1178b, 7-22; _Cael._ 292b, 4 ff.]\n\n[19\\14: So too ~epikalu/ptetai ho nou=s eni/ote pa/thei \u00ea\\ no/s\u00f4| \u00ea\\\nhu/pn\u00f4|~, _de An._ 429a, 7.]\n\n[20\\14: ~thigga/nein~ is the term often applied to the activity of\n~nou=s~, i.e. a simple and indivisible act of apperceiving the\n~asu/ntheta~. This act not being composite (of subject and\npredicate), like judgment, leaves no room for error: the act simply\noccurs or does not occur--~al\u00eathe/s~ or ~pseu=dos~ does not enter\ninto the question with it. _Meta._ 1051b, 16-26 (~thigei=n~, 24-5),\n1027b, 21.]\n\n[21\\15: ~ta\\ al\u00eath\u00ea= kai\\ pr\u00f4=ta kai\\ _a/mesa_ kai\\ gn\u00f4rim\u00f4/tera\nkai\\ pro/tera kai\\ ai/tia tou= sumpera/smatos~, _An. Po._ i, 2, This\n~ame/s\u00f4n epist\u00ea/m\u00ea anapo/deiktos~ (72b, 19) belong to ~nou=s~. There\nis only a ~nou=s~--not an ~epist\u00ea/m\u00ea~ (as being a ~he/xis\napodeiktik\u00ea/~, _EN._ 1139b, 31)--~t\u00f4=n _arch\u00f4=n_, t\u00ea=s arch\u00ea=s tou=\nepist\u00eatou=~, _EN._ vi, 6. Thus also ~nou=s~ is ~epist\u00ea/m\u00eas arch\u00ea/~,\n_An. Po._ 100b, 5-17. ~t\u00f4=n akin\u00ea/t\u00f4n ho/r\u00f4n kai\\ pr\u00f4/t\u00f4n nou=s\nesti\\ kai\\ ou lo/gos~, _EN._ 1143b, 1 (cf. _MM._ 1197a, 20 ff.).]\n{510}\n\n[22\\14: ~to\\ ku/rion~, _EN._ 1178a, 3, and frequently. ~nou=s dokei=\narchei=n kai\\ h\u00eagei=sthai~, 1177a, 14. It rules esp. over ~o/rexis~\n(as ~h\u00ea psuch\u00ea/~ does over the ~s\u00f4=ma~), _Pol._ 1254b, 5 (cf. _EN._\n1102b, 29 ff.).]\n\n[23\\14: A man is called ~egkrat\u00ea/s~ or ~akrat\u00ea/s, t\u00f4=| katei=n to\\n\nnou=n \u00ea\\ m\u00ea/; h\u00f4s tou/tou heka/stou o/ntos~, _EN._ 1168b, 35.\n~do/xeie d' a/n kai\\ ei=nai he/kastos tou=to (nou=s)~, 1178a, 2.\n~t\u00f4=| anthr\u00f4/p\u00f4| d\u00ea\\ (kra/tiston kai\\ \u00ea/diston) ho kata\\ to\\n nou=n\nbi/os, ei/per tou=to ma/lista a/nthr\u00f4pos~ (here only in so far as\nthe possession of ~nou=s~ distinguishes men in general from the\nother ~z\u00f4=|a~), 1178a, 6.]\n\n[24\\14: Cicero makes a distinction of this kind between _ratio_ and\n_animus_. _Off._ i, 107 (after Panaetius): intellegendum est, duabus\nquasi nos a natura indutos esse personis; quarum una communis est ex\neo quod omnes participes sumus rationis . . . ; altera autem quae\nproprie singulis est tributa.]\n\n[25\\14: ~ha/panta ta\\ gino/mena kai\\ phtheiro/mena phai/netai~,\n_Cael._ 279b, 20. ~to\\ geno/menon ana/gk\u00ea te/los labei=n~, _Ph._\n203b, 8. But ~ha/pan to\\ aei\\ o/n hapl\u00f4s a/phtharton. homoi/\u00f4s de\\\nkai\\ age/n\u00eaton~, _Cael._ 281b, 25. ~ei to\\ age/n\u00eaton a/phtharton\nkai\\ to\\ a/phtharton age/n\u00eaton, ana/gk\u00ea kai\\ to\\ \"a\u00ef/dion\"\nhekate/r\u00f4| akolouthei=n, kai\\ ei/te ti age/n\u00eaton, a\u00ef/dion, ei/te ti\na/phtharton, a\u00ef/dion ktl.~, _Cael._ 282a, 31 ff. Thus too ~nou=s~\n(~apath\u00ea/s~) as uncreated is everlasting and imperishable (see\nZeller, _Sitzb. B. Ak._ 1882, p. 1044 f.). It belongs to the\nimperishable ~ousi/ai~, which as such are ~ti/miai kai\\ _thei=ai_~,\n_PA._ 644b, 22 ff.]\n\n[26\\14: ~ho nou=s hupome/nei~ at the separation, _Meta._ 1070a,\n25-6. More strictly this applies to the ~nou=s apath\u00ea/s\n(poi\u00eatiko/s)~. While the ~nou=s path\u00eatiko/s~ (whose relation to the\n~nou=s poi\u00eatiko/s~ remains most obscure) is ~phtharto/s~, we hear of\nthe ~nou=s poi\u00eatiko/s~ that it is ~_ch\u00f4risthei\\s_ mo/non tou=to\nho/per eti/, kai\\ tou=to mo/non atha/naton kai\\ a\u00ef/dion~, _de An._\n430a, 10-25.]\n\n[27\\14: _de An._ 408b, 18 ff.: ~nou=s ou phthei/retai~, nor ~hupo\\\nt\u00ea=s en t\u00f4=| g\u00ea/ra| amaur\u00f4/se\u00f4s . . . to\\ noei=n kai\\ to\\ the\u00f4rei=n\nmarai/netai~ (in old age) ~a/llou tinos e/s\u00f4 phtheirome/nou~ (?\nnothing perishes within ~to\\ noei=n~--read ~en h\u00f4=|~ as in l. 23 and\nunderstand: ~a/llou tino\\s en h\u00f4=| to\\ noei=n = ho nou=s, e/nesti~,\ni.e. the whole living man), ~auto\\ de\\ apathe/s estin~ (just as\n~nou=s~ is always ~analloi/\u00f4ton~, even its ~no/\u00easis~ is no\n~ki/n\u00easis~, and the ~l\u00ea=psis t\u00ea=s epist\u00ea/m\u00eas~ makes no ~alloi/\u00f4sis~\nfor it: _de An._ 407a, 32; _Ph._ 247a, 28; b, 1 ff.; 20 ff.), ~to\\\nde\\ dianoei=sthai~ (thinking and judging) ~kai\\ philei=n \u00ea\\ misei=n\nouk e/stin ekei/nou pa/th\u00ea, alla\\ tou=de tou= e/chontos ekei=no,\nh\u00ea=| ekei=no e/chei. dio\\ kai\\ tou/tou phtheirome/nou ou/te\nmn\u00eamoneu/ei ou/te philei=, ou ga\\r ekei/nou \u00ea=n, alla\\ tou= koi/nou~\n(that which had once been associated with the ~nou=s~), ~ho\\\napo/l\u00f4len; ho de\\ nou=s i/s\u00f4s theio/tero/n ti kai\\ apathe/s estin~.\nIn its separate existence ~nou=s~ has no memory--this at least is\nmeant by ~ou mn\u00eamoneu/omen~, _de An._ 430a, 23, however we may be\ninclined to interpret the rest of the sentence.]\n\n[28\\14: Particularly in the ~Eu/d\u00eamos~ (_frr._ 31-40 [37-44]),\nprobably also in the ~Protreptiko/s~.]\n\n[29\\14: For this must be the meaning of _fr._ 36 = 44 (~Eu/d.~)--the\n~dai/m\u00f4n~ is the soul itself; cf. 35 [41].]\n\n[30\\14: _de An._ 407b, 13-26; 414a, 19-27.--And yet it must be\nadmitted that the ~nou=s~ of Aristotle is itself a ~tucho/n~ within\nanother ~tucho/n~--not indeed as a separate entity with any\nqualities set in a fortuitous vessel of perhaps discordant qualities\nthat do not fit it (which acc. to the ~Puthago/reios mu=thos~ was\ntrue of the ~psuch\u00ea/~ in the ~s\u00f4=ma~)--but at any rate set within an\nanimated individual with quite definite qualities as a stranger,\nitself devoid of all definite quality and therefore not capable of\nhaving a character specially fitting that individual in which it is\nplaced. Thus, after all, the Aristotelian ~mu=thos~ about the\n~nou=s~ betrays its origin from the ~mu=thoi~ of old theology.]\n{511}\n\n[31\\14: It is only as an argumentum ad hominem that the view is\nsuggested on one occasion, that ~be/ltion t\u00f4=| n\u00f4=| m\u00ea\\ meta\\\ns\u00f4/matos ei=nai (katha/per ei/\u00f4the/ te le/gesthai kai\\ polloi=s\nsundokei=)~, _de An._ 407b, 4.]\n\n[32\\14: _EN._ x, 7-9.--~dokei= h\u00ea philosophi/a thaumasta\\s h\u00eadona\\s\ne/chein kathario/t\u00eati kai\\ t\u00f4=| bebai/\u00f4|. eu/logon de\\ _toi=s\neido/si_ t\u00f4=n z\u00eatou/nt\u00f4n h\u00eadi/\u00f4 t\u00ea\\n diag\u00f4g\u00ea\\n ei=nai~, 1177a, 26.\nThe ~sopho/s~ requires no ~su/nergoi~ (as the ~s\u00f4/phr\u00f4n~ and the\n~andrei=os~ do, and is ~autarke/statos~ in himself. The activity of\n~nou=s~ is the most valuable as being ~the\u00f4r\u00eatik\u00ea/~ and because\n~par' haut\u00ea\\n oude/nos ephi/etai te/lous~. A sufficiently long life\nof the theoretic activity of ~nou=s~ is ~telei/a eudaimoni/a\nanthr\u00f4/pou~--indeed, this is no longer an ~anthr\u00f4/pinos bi/os~, but\nrather ~krei/tt\u00f4n \u00ea\\ kat' a/nthr\u00f4pon~--a ~thei=os bi/os~ as ~nou=s\nthei=o/n ti en anthr\u00f4/p\u00f4| hupa/rchei~. Therefore man must not\n~anthr\u00f4/pina phronei=n~ but ~eph' ho/son ende/chetai athanati/zein~\n(be immortal already in this life) ~kai\\ pa/nta poiei=n pro\\s to\\\nz\u00ea=n kata\\ to\\ kra/tiston t\u00f4=n en haut\u00f4=|~ (1177b, 31 ff.). This\n~telei/a eudaimoni/a~, as a ~the\u00f4r\u00eatik\u00ea\\ ene/rgeia~, brings the\nthinkers near to the _gods_ whose life does not consist in\n~pra/ttein~ (not even virtuous) or ~poiei=n~ but in pure ~the\u00f4ri/a~,\nand this can be so with the life of man (alone among the ~z\u00f4=|a~)\n~eph' ho/son homoi/\u00f4ma/ ti t\u00ea=s toiau/t\u00eas (the\u00f4r\u00eatik\u00ea=s) energei/as\nhupa/rchei~ (1178b, 7-32). Nowhere do we meet with so much as the\nshadow of an idea that the ~eudaimoni/a~ of the ~the\u00f4r\u00eatiko\\s bi/os~\ncan only become ~telei/a~ in \"another\" world, or is conceivable as\nexisting elsewhere than in the life on earth. The only condition for\n~telei/a eudaimoni/a~ that is made is ~m\u00ea=kos bi/ou te/leion~\n(1177b, 25)--nothing lying outside or beyond this life. The\n~the\u00f4r\u00eatiko\\s bi/os~ has its complete and final development here\nupon earth.--~te/leios bi/os~ is mentioned as necessary for the\nobtaining of ~eudaimoni/a~, _EN._ 1100a, 5; 1101a, 16. But\n~eudaimoni/a~ is completely confined within the limits of earthly\nlife: to call a dead man ~eudai/mona~ would be ~pantel\u00f4=s a/topon~,\nfor he lacks the ~ene/rgeia~ which is the essence of\n~eudaimoni/a~--only a mere shadow of sensation can belong to the\n~kekm\u00eako/tes~ (almost the Homeric conception) 1100a, 11-29; 1101a,\n22-b, 9.--Since it is impossible for the individual to enjoy an\nunending permanence and share in ~to\\ aei\\ kai\\ thei=on~, it follows\nthat the continuation of the individual after death consists only in\nthe continuance of the ~ei/dos~--not of the ~auto/~ (which perishes)\nbut only of the ~hoi=on auto/~ which persists in the series of\ncreatures propagated on earth: _de An._ 415a, 28-b, 7; _GA._ 731a,\n24-b, 1. (Borrowed from the observations of Plato, _Smp._ 206 C-207\nA; cf. also _Lg._ 721 C, 773 E; Philo, _Incor. Mund._ 8, ii, p. 495\nM., after Kritolaos.) It was much easier for Aristotle to take this\nconception seriously than it was for Plato with his particular\noutlook: only for the passing requirements of his dialogue does\nPlato adopt the Herakleitean view and expand it: see above, chap.\nxi, n. 16.]\n\n[33\\14: ~oi=mai de\\ tou= gin\u00f4/skein ta\\ o/nta kai\\ phronei=n\naphairethe/ntos _ou bi/on alla\\ chro/non_ ei=nai t\u00ea\\n athanasi/an~,\nPlu., _Is. et Os._ i, fin., p. 351 E. Origen (_Cels._ iii, 80, p.\n359 Lom.) draws a clear distinction between the ~athanasi/a t\u00ea=s\npsuch\u00ea=s~ of Platonic doctrine and the Stoic ~epidiamon\u00ea\\ t\u00ea=s\npsuch\u00ea=s~ on the one hand--and this Aristotelian doctrine of the\n~tou= nou= athanasi/a: hoi peisthe/ntes peri\\ tou= thu/rathen nou=\nh\u00f4s _athana/tou_ (thana/tou~ Edd.) ~_kai\\ mo/nou_ (kainou=~ Edd.)\n~diag\u00f4g\u00ea\\n (= bi/on) e/xontos~ (--this is how the passage should be\nread).]\n\n[34\\14: Theophrastos discussed (by the method of ~apori/ai~\nfashionable with the school) the obscurities and difficulties\ninherent in the doctrine of ~nou=s~, particularly of the\nreduplicated ~nou=s~, the ~poi\u00eatiko/s~ and the ~path\u00eatiko/s~. True\nto his character, however, he adheres to the fixed dogma of his\nschool of the ~nou=s ch\u00f4risto/s~ which ~e/x\u00f4then \u00f4\\n kai\\ h\u00f4/sper\n{512} epi/thetos~ is ~ho/m\u00f4s su/mphutos~ with man and being\n~age/nn\u00eatos~ is also ~a/phthartos~: _Frag._ 53b, p. 226 ff.; 53, p.\n176 Wim. (~the\u00f4ri/a~ belongs to ~nou=s, thigo/nti kai\\ hoi=on\nhapsame/n\u00f4|~, and is therefore without ~apa/t\u00ea~, _fr._ 12, \u00a7 26.\nThe ~nou=s~ is ~krei=tto/n ti me/ros [t\u00ea=s psych\u00ea=s] kai\\\ntheio/teron~, _fr._ 53. To the ~nou=s~ and its ~the\u00f4ri/a~ we must\nsuppose the ~kata\\ du/namin homoiou=sthai the\u00f4=|~ to refer--for this\nis the teaching of Thphr. also: Jul., _Or._ vi, p. 185 A.) Nowhere\nis there any indication that for him the immortality of ~nou=s~ had\nthe slightest importance for this life and its conduct. Nor has it\nany in the ethical doctrine of the very theologically inclined\nEudemos. Here the aim of life--the ~aret\u00ea\\ te/leios~ which is\n~kalolagathi/a~--is said to be ~h\u00ea tou= theou= the\u00f4ri/a~ which is\ncarried on by the ~nou=s, to\\ en \u00eami=n thei=on~, 1248a, 27; in this\nprocess it is best ~h\u00ea/kista aistha/nesthai tou= a/llou me/rous t\u00ea=s\npsuch\u00ea=s~, 1249b, 22. For the sake of ~to\\ gn\u00f4ri/zein~ man wishes\n~z\u00ea=n aei\\~, 1245a, 9--but upon earth and in the body: there is no\nthought of the other world. (This would have been quite natural and\nto be expected of this semi-theological thinker who, e.g. speaks\nquite seriously of the separability of ~nou=s~ from the\n~lo/gos~--the ~a/llo me/ros t\u00ea=s psuch\u00ea=s~--in bodily life and of\nits higher intuition in _enthousiasmos_ and veracious dreaming:\n1214a, 23; 1225a, 28; 1248a, 40.)--To this first generation of\nPeripatetics belong also Aristoxenos and Dikaiarchos who did not\nrecognize _any_ peculiar substance of the \"soul\" apart from the\n\"harmony\" brought about by the mixture of bodily material. Dik.\n~an\u00ea/|r\u00eake t\u00ea\\n ho/l\u00ean hupo/stasin t\u00ea=s psuch\u00ea=s~: Atticus ap. Eus.,\n_PE._ xv, 810 A. Aristox. and Dik. nullum omnino animum esse\ndixerunt Cic. _TD._ 1, 51: 21; 41, etc.; Dik. (in the ~Lesbiakoi\\\nlo/goi~) expressly controverted the doctrine of immortality, _TD._\ni, 77. (It remains very remarkable that Dik. who naturally knew\nnothing of a _separabilis animus_, _TD._ i, 21, nevertheless,\nbelieved not merely in _mantic_ dreams--that would be just\nintelligible, ~e/chei ga/r tina lo/gon~, Arist., _P. Nat._ 462b\nff.--but also in the prophetic power of ~enthousiasmo/s~, Cic.,\n_Div._ i, 5; 113; _Dox._ 416a, which invariably presupposes the\ndogma of a special substance of the \"soul\" and its separability from\nthe body.)--Straton \"the naturalist\" (_d._ 270), for whom the soul\nis an undivided force, inseparable from the body and the\n~aisth\u00ea/seis~, gave up completely the belief in the ~nou=s\nch\u00f4risto/s~ of Aristotle: he cannot possibly have held any doctrine\nof immortality in any form or under any limitations.--Then follows\nthe period of pure scholarship when the Peripatetic school almost\ngave up philosophy. With the return to the study of the master's\nwritings (from the time of Aristonikos) they gained a new lease of\nlife. The problems of the parts of the soul, the relation of ~nou=s~\nto the soul (and to the ~nou=s path\u00eatiko/s~) were discussed once\nmore. It became more and more common, however, to set aside the\n~nou=s thu/rathen epeisi\u00f4/n~ (cf. the definition of the soul given\nby Andronikos ap. Galen ~p. t. t\u00ea=s psuch\u00ea=s \u00eath\u00f4=n~, iv, 782 f.,\nK.; Themist., _de An._ ii, 56, 11; 59, 6 Sp.). This meant the denial\nof immortality (which belonged to ~nou=s~ only): e.g. by Bo\u00ebthos:\nSimp., _de An._ p. 247, 24 ff. Hayd. [_Sto. Vet._ iii, 267 Arn.]. A\ndifferent view again, and one which even went beyond Aristotle, was\nheld by Kratippos, the contemporary of Bo\u00ebthos: Cic., _Div._ i, 70;\ncf. 5; 113. Alexander of Aphrodisias the great ~ex\u00eag\u00eat\u00ea/s~\nabsolutely banished the ~nou=s poi\u00eatiko/s~ from the human soul.\n(This is the divine ~nou=s~, which is perpetually ~nou=s~ and\n~no\u00eato\\n energei/a|~, and that, too, already ~pro\\ tou= noei=sthai~\nby the ~huliko\\s nou=s~ of man. It enters into the latter\n~thu/rathen~--though not locally, for it is incapable of change of\nplace, p. 113, 18 f.--with the individual act of ~noei=n~ by the\n~nou=s huliko/s~, but it never becomes a ~mo/rion kai\\ du/nami/s tis\nt\u00ea=s {513} h\u00eamete/ras psuch\u00ea=s~: Alex. _de An._, p. 107-9; p. 90\nBr.). For him ~nou=s~ is ~ch\u00f4risto/s~ and ~atha/natos, apath\u00ea/s~,\netc., whereas the human soul exactly like the ~ei=dos~ of its\n~s\u00f4=ma~ from which it is ~ach\u00f4risto/s~ perishes at death together\nwith its ~nou=s huliko/s~, completely: ~sumphthei/retai t\u00f4=|\ns\u00f4/mati~, _de An._, p. 21, 22 f.; p. 90, 16 f. The individual soul\nthus perishes: the imperishable ~nou=s~ had not communicated itself\nto the individual.--The indestructibility of the individual ~nou=s~\nof man (and this was indubitably what Aristotle himself taught), a\ndoctrine derived not from experience but from pure logical\ninference, had in reality no serious significance for the general\nteaching of the Peripatetics so long as they preserved their\nindependence. Finally, indeed, they too were swallowed up in the\nferment of Neoplatonism.]\n\n[35\\14: ~he/xis, phu/sis, a/logos psuch\u00ea/, psuch\u00ea\\ lo/gon e/chousa\nkai\\ dia/noian~, Plu., _Virt. Mor._ 451 BC and A. Through all these\nand all things in which these are--~di\u00ea/kei ho nou=s~, D.L. vii, 138\nf. [ii, p. 192 Arn.].]\n\n[36\\14: Our soul an ~apo/spasma~ of the ~e/mpsuchos ko/smos~, D.L.\nvii, 143 [ii, 191 Arn.]. We often find the soul of man called an\n~apo/spasma tou= theou= (Dio/s), thei/a apo/moira, apo/rroia~ (see\nGataker on M. Ant., pp. 48, 211; Ed. 1652)--and often even ~theo/s~\n(see Bonh\u00f6ffer, _Epiktet u. d. Stoa_, p. 76 f.).]\n\n[37\\14: ~(h\u00ea psuch\u00ea\\) araio/teron pneu=ma t\u00ea=s phu/se\u00f4s kai\\\nleptome/resteron . . . ~ Chrysipp. ap. Plu., _Stoic. Rep._ 41, p.\n1052 F [ii, 222 Arn.]. \"Nature\" is ~pneu=ma~ that has become moist,\nsoul the same ~pneu=ma~ which has remained dry (Galen, iv, 783 f. K.\n[p. 218 Arn.]).]\n\n[38\\14: The ~bre/phos~ is created as a ~phu/ton~, and only\nafterwards becomes a ~z\u00f4=|on~ by ~peri/psuxis~ (derivation of\n~psuch\u00ea/~ hence!). Chrysipp. ap. Plu., _Stoic. Rep._ 1052 F [p. 222\nArn.]. Thus comes ~ek phu/se\u00f4s psuch\u00ea/~, Plu., _Prim. Frig._ ii, p.\n946 C.]\n\n[39\\14: It would almost be possible to employ the semi-Stoic\nlanguage of Philo to describe the soul as conceived by this Stoic\nPantheism: ~t\u00ea=s thei/as psuch\u00ea=s apo/spasma _ou diaireto/n_\n(te/mnetai ga\\r oude\\n tou= thei/ou kat' apa/rt\u00easin, alla\\ mo/non\nektei/netai)~, _Q. Det. Pot. Insid._, 24, i, p. 209 M. But in\northodox Stoic doctrine the idea prevails that the individual\n~apospa/smata~ are completely detached from the universal\n~thei=on~--but at the same time without denial of ultimate connexion\nwith the \"All\" and the \"One\".]\n\n[40\\14: Acc. to the older Stoical doctrine as systematized by\nChrysippos the soul is absolutely simple and unified, having sprung\nfrom the universal Reason of God which contains no ~a/logon~. Its\nimpulses (~hormai/~) must on this view be rational just as much as\nits willed decisions (~kri/seis~): it is affected from without by\n~phu/sis~, which, being itself a development of the highest reason,\nGod, can only be good and rational. It is quite impossible to\nconceive how, on the principles of the older Stoicism, erroneous\njudgment or excessive and evil impulses could arise. ~h\u00ea t\u00ea=s\nkaki/as ge/nesis~ is rendered unintelligible as Poseidonios\nmaintains in opposition to the subtle observations of Chrysipp. on\nthis head (see Schmekel, _Phil. d. mittl. Stoa_, p. 327 ff.).]\n\n[41\\14: ~akolou/th\u00f4s t\u00ea=| phu/sei z\u00ea=n~ (but our ~phu/seis~ are\n~me/r\u00ea t\u00ea=s tou= ho/lou~), i.e. in harmony with the ~koi/nos no/mos\nho/sper esti\\n ho ortho\\s lo/gos ho dia\\ pa/nt\u00f4n ercho/menos, ho\nauto\\s \u00f4\\n t\u00f4=| Dii/, kath\u00eagemo/ni tou/t\u00f4| t\u00ea=s t\u00f4=n ho/l\u00f4n\ndioik\u00ea/se\u00f4s o/nti~, Chrysipp. ap. D.L. vii, 87-8 [iii, 3 Arn.]. This\nobedience to the rational order and governance of the world--the\n_deum sequere_, Sen., _VB._ 15, 5; _Ep._ 16, 5; ~he/pesthai\ntheoi=s~, Epict. i, 12, 5, etc.--is more often regarded as a passive\nattitude of self-abandonment adopted consciously and with\n~sugkata/thesis: chr\u00f4= moi loipo\\n eis ho\\ a\\n the/l\u00ea|s.\nhomogn\u00f4mon\u00f4= soi, so/s eimi ktl.~, Epict. ii, 16, 42. ~the/le\ngi/nesthai ta\\ {514} gino/mena h\u00f4s gi/netai, kai\\ euro\u00ea/seis~ (this\nsounds very like \"make God's will your own will\"), _Ench._ 8. Much\nthe same idea occurs already in the lines of Kleanthes ~a/gou de/ m'\nh\u00f4= Zeu= kai\\ su/ g' h\u00ea Pepr\u00f4me/n\u00ea ktl.~ [i, 118 Arn.]. But such\n\"affirmation of the universe\", understood in the full pantheistic\nsense (cf. Kleanthes ~t\u00ea\\n koin\u00ea\\n mo/n\u00ean ekde/chetai phu/sin h\u00ea=|\ndei= akolouthei=n, ouke/ti de\\ kai\\ t\u00ea\\n epi\\ me/rous~, D.L. vii, 89\n[i, 126 Arn.]), could not lead to an ethical teaching of active\ncharacter and concrete substance.]\n\n[42\\14: The ~sopho/s~ is ~eleu/theros; ei=nai ga\\r t\u00ea\\n eleutheri/an\nexousi/an autopragi/as~, D.L. vii, 121. Laws and constitutions do\nnot apply to him: Cic., _Ac. Pri._ ii, 136.]\n\n[43\\14: Enemies and strangers are ~m\u00ea\\ spoudai=oi~ to one\nanother--~poli=tai kai\\ phi/loi kai\\ oikei=oi hoi spoudai=oi\nmo/non~. Zeno, ~en t\u00ea=| Politei/a|~, ap. D.L. vii, 32-3 [i, 54\nArn.].]\n\n[44\\14: ~ho par' heka/st\u00f4| dai/m\u00f4n~ which one must keep in harmony\n~pro\\s t\u00ea\\n tou= t\u00f4=n ho/l\u00f4n dioik\u00eatou= bou/l\u00easin~, D.L. vii, 88,\nafter Chrysipp. [iii, 4 Arn.]. In the later Stoic literature, the\nonly part of it which has come down to us, we often hear of this\n~dai/m\u00f4n~ of the individual--sacer intra nos spiritus (Sen., Epict.,\nM. Ant.: see Bonh\u00f6ffer, _Epiktet_, 83). It is generally spoken of in\nlanguage that seems to regard it as something _separable_ from the\nman or his soul, including the ~h\u00eagemoniko/n~; Zeus ~pare/st\u00easen\n_epi/tropon_ heka/st\u00f4| to\\n heka/stou dai/mona kai\\ pare/d\u00f4ke\nphula/ssein auto\\n aut\u00f4=| ktl.~, Epict. i, 14, 12. ~ho dai/m\u00f4n o\\n\nheka/st\u00f4| _prosta/t\u00ean_ kai\\ h\u00eagemo/na ho Zeu\\s e/d\u00f4ken~, M. Ant. v,\n27. ~ana/krinon to\\ daimo/nion~, Epict. iii, 22, 53 (one can ask\nquestions of it, as Sokrates did of his ~daimo/nion~, as something\nother and different from oneself). This ~dai/m\u00f4n~ then does not seem\nto be simply identifiable with the \"soul\" of man like the daimon in\nman of which the _theologians_ speak. It is conceived and spoken of\nin language that suggests rather the \"protecting spirit\" of a man as\nknown to popular belief (cf. now Usener, _G\u00f6tternamen_, 294 ff.).\n~ha/panti dai/m\u00f4n andri\\ sumpari/statai euthu\\s genome/n\u00f4|\nmustag\u00f4go\\s tou= bi/ou~, Menand. 550 K. (where the idea of _two_\ndaimonic partners in the life of man is already rejected: Eukleides\nSocr. had spoken of such, cf. Censor., _DN._ iii, 3, and in a\ndifferent way again Phocyl., _fr._ 15). Plato himself speaks (with a\n~le/getai~) of the ~dai/m\u00f4n ho/sper z\u00f4=nta eil\u00ea/chei~ (and guides\nthe departed soul into Hades): _Phd._ 107 D. The idea, however, must\nhave been much older: it appears fairly clearly expressed in\nPindar's words, _O._ xiii, 28 ~(Zeu= pa/t\u00ear), Xeno/ph\u00f4ntos eu/thune\ndai/monos ou=ron~, where the transition to the meaning \"fate\" for\nthe word ~dai/m\u00f4n~ has not yet been completed. Later (with the\nTragedians and other poets) this use became very common, but even\nthen still presupposes the belief in such personal daimonic partners\nin the life of man: the use would have been quite impossible\notherwise. (~dai/m\u00f4n = po/tmos~, Pi., _P._ v, 121 f., and already in\nThgn. 161, 163. When Herakleitos says ~\u00ea=thos anthr\u00f4/p\u00f4| dai/m\u00f4n~,\n_fr._ 121 By., 119 D. he uses ~dai/m\u00f4n~ in the sense of fortune in\nlife. The word means both ~\u00ea=thos~ and condition of life at the same\ntime in Pl., _Rp._ 617 E, ~ouch huma=s dai/m\u00f4n l\u00ea/xetai, all'\nhumei=s dai/mona hair\u00ea/sesthe~, where the derivation of the\nmetaphorical use of the word ~dai/m\u00f4n~ from a belief in a special\ndaimon belonging to the individual man can still be seen plainly.\nSee also [Lys.] _Epit._ (2), 78. But the metaphorical use comes as\nearly as ~Th~ 166, ~pa/ros toi dai/mona d\u00f4/s\u00f4 = po/tmon\neph\u00ea/s\u00f4~.)--The personal existence of the daimon is still far\nremoved from all danger of such abstraction in a very remarkable\ncase: in Halikarnassos Poseidonios and his ~e/kgonoi~ decide that on\nthe first day of the month they will offer ~Dai/moni agath\u00f4=|\nPoseid\u00f4ni/ou . . . krio/n~ (_Gr. Ins. in Br. Mus._ {515} iv, 1, n.\n896, p. 70, l. 35. The inscr. seems to date from the third century\nB.C.). Here then offering is made to the ~agatho\\s dai/m\u00f4n~ (see\nabove, chap. v, n. 133) of the _living_, just as offering was made\non birthdays, and at other times also, to the _genius_ of Romans;\n~ag. d.~ is here clearly equivalent to _genius_. Apollo whose advice\nhad been sought at his oracle had expressly enjoined (ib., l. 9) ~.\n. . tima=n kai\\ hila/skesthai kai\\ agatho\\n dai/mona Poseid\u00f4ni/ou\nkai\\ Go/rgidos~ (the latter, P.'s mother, seems to have been already\ndead: l. 34).--This special ~dai/m\u00f4n~ attached to individuals with\nwhom it can be contrasted (as Brutus can be with his ~dai/m\u00f4n\nkako/s~: Plu., _Brut._ 36) is distinct from the individual's\n~psuch\u00ea/~, though it is natural to suppose that it may have arisen\nfrom the projection of the ~psuch\u00ea/~--conceived as very\nindependent--outside the man himself, in which it would again\nresemble the Roman _genius_. (The daimonic ~phu/lakes~ of Hesiod\n[cf. above, p. 67 ff.], belong to quite a different range of ideas.)\nAt any rate the Stoics had this analogous popular conception in mind\nwhen they spoke of the ~par' heka/st\u00f4| dai/m\u00f4n~ as something\ndifferent from the man himself and his ~h\u00eagemoniko/n~. They use it,\nhowever, only as a figure of speech. The ~dai/m\u00f4n~ of the individual\nreally means for them \"the original, ideal personality as contrasted\nwith the empirical personality\" (as Bonh\u00f6ffer very rightly puts it:\n_Epikt._ 84)--the character the man already _is_ ideally but must\n_become_ actually (~ge/noi' hoi=os essi/ . . .~). Thus the ~dai/m\u00f4n~\nis distinct from the ~psuch\u00ea/ (dia/noia)~ and yet identical with it.\nIt is a semi-allegorical play upon the idea of the ~dai/m\u00f4n~ as\nindividual genius and at the same time as crown or summit of the\nhuman personality--just as Plato had used the word already\nincidentally, _Tim._ 90 A. Finally--for the Stoics did not seriously\nwish to establish the existence of an independent protecting deity\nthat enters man from without and rules over him--the ~h\u00eagemoniko/n~\nis the same as the ~dai/m\u00f4n~. Thus in M. Ant. iv, 27, the ~dai/m\u00f4n~\nis completely identical with the ~apo/spasma Dio/s~, and the\n~heka/stou nou=s kai\\ lo/gos~ (cf. also iii, 3 fin.; ii, 13; 17;\niii, 7, ~to\\n heautou= nou=n kai\\ dai/mona~). The fact, however,\nthat this ~apo/spasma tou= theou=~ can be called a ~dai/m\u00f4n~ bears\nwitness to a tendency to conceive the soul-spirit as something\nindependent and more cut off and separated from the common and\noriginal source of divinity than was possible for Stoic pantheism of\nthe stricter sort (to which the terms ~apo/spasma, apo/rroia tou=\ntheou=~ were more apt). A decided approximation was thus made to the\ntheological idea of the \"soul\" as an individual daimon which\npersists in its separate existence. To this view Poseidonios went\nover completely: he regards the individual ~dai/m\u00f4n~ that lives in\nman as ~suggen\u00ea\\s \u00f4\\n t\u00f4=| to\\n ho/lon ko/smon dioikou=nti~ (Pos.\nap. Gal. v, 469), and no longer as the dependent ~apo/spasma~ of the\nlatter, but as one of many independent and individually\ncharacterized spirits that have lived from all time in the air and\nenter into man at birth. (See Bonh\u00f6ffer, _Epikt._ 79-80, and also\nSchmekel, _Phil. d. mittl. Stoa_, 249 ff., 256.)]\n\n[45\\14: ~ho tha/natos esti ch\u00f4rismo\\s psuch\u00ea=s apo\\ s\u00f4/matos . . .~\nChrysipp. ap. Nemes., _NH._, p. 81 Matth.; Zeno and Chrysipp. ap.\nTert., _An._ 5 [ii, 219 Arn.].]\n\n[46\\14: Everything comes into being and perishes, including the\ngods, ~ho de\\ Zeu\\s mo/nos a\u00ef/dio/s esti~, Chrysipp. ap. Plu., _Sto.\nRep._ 38, p. 1052 A; _Comm. Not._ 31, p. 1075 A ff. [ii, 309\nArn.].--~epidiamon\u00ea\\~ but not ~athanasi/a~ of the human soul [ib.,\n223].]\n\n[47\\14: ~_Klea/nth\u00eas_ me\\n ou=n pa/sas (ta\\s psucha\\s) epidiame/nein\n(le/gei) me/chri t\u00ea=s ekpur\u00f4/se\u00f4s, _Chru/sippos_ de\\ ta\\s t\u00f4=n\nsoph\u00f4=n mo/non~, D.L. vii, 157. {516} A statement often repeated\nwithout mention of the two authorities: Arius Did. ap. Eus., _PE._\n15, 20, 6, p. 822 **A-C (the ~psuchai\\ t\u00f4=n aphro/n\u00f4n kai\\ alo/g\u00f4n\n**z\u00f4/|\u00f4n~ perish immediately with the death of the body, C) and\nothers [ii, 223 Arn.]. Chrysippos' doctrine comes also in Tac.,\n_Agr._ 46, si ut sapientibus placet non cum corpore extinguuntur\nmagnae animae (~hai mega/lai psuchai/~, Plu., _Def. Or._ 18, p. 419\nf.); cf. omnium quidem animos immortalis esse sed fortium bonorumque\ndivinos, Cic., _Leg._ ii, 27, not quite accurately put.]\n\n[48\\14: The ~_astheneste/ra_ psuch\u00ea/ (hau/t\u00ea de/ esti t\u00f4=n\napaideu/t\u00f4n)~ perishes sooner, ~h\u00ea de\\ _ischurote/ra_, hoi=a esti\\\nperi\\ tou\\s sophou/s~ remains ~me/chri t\u00ea=s ekpur\u00f4/se\u00f4s~, [Plu.]\n_Plac. Phil._, 4, 7 ap. _Dox._ 393a.]\n\n[49\\14: The predominance of the materialistic point of view is\nremarkable in those _Stoici_ who acc. to Seneca, _Ep._ 57, 7,\nexistimant animum hominis magno pondere extriti permanere non posse\net statim spargi, quia non fuerit illi exitus liber (which reminds\nus of the popular belief that the soul of one who has died in a high\nwind ~euthu\\s diapephu/s\u00eatai kai\\ apo/l\u00f4len~, Pl., _Phd._ 70 A, 80\nD, see above, chap. xiii, n. 5).]\n\n[50\\14: ~ou ta\\ s\u00f4/mata ta\\s psucha\\s sune/chei all' hai psuchai\\\nta\\ s\u00f4/mata, h\u00f4/sper kai\\ h\u00ea ko/lla kai\\ heaut\u00ea\\n kai\\ ta\\ ekto\\s\nkratei=~, Poseidon. ap. Ach. Tat., _Isag._, p. 133 E Petav.,\nborrowed from Arist. (_de An._ 1, 5, 411b, 7), but a thoroughly\nStoic idea as contrasted with Epicurean doctrine (see Heinze,\n_Xenokrates_, 100 f.).]\n\n[51\\14: S.E., _M._ ix, 71-3. The naive but quite plain statements go\nback to Poseid. as has often been pointed out (e.g. by Corssen, _de\nPos. Rhod._, p. 45, 1878, and others). So, too, do the similar\nremarks in Cic., _TD._ i, 42. Poseid. does not appear to be uttering\nheterodox opinions in this case, so far as we can see.]\n\n[52\\14: ~--kai\\ ga\\r oude\\ ta\\s psucha\\s e/nestin hupono\u00ea=sai ka/t\u00f4\npherome/nas. leptomerei=s ga\\r ou=sai eis tou\\s a/n\u00f4 ma=llon to/pous\nkouphophorou=sin~, S.E., _M._ ix, 71. This physical reason was in\nitself enough to make it impossible for the Stoics to believe in a\nsubterranean region of the souls: ~oudei\\s Ha/id\u00eas, oud' Ache/r\u00f4n,\noude\\ K\u00f4kuto/s ktl.~, Epict. iii, 13, 15. It is the regular Stoic\ndoctrine: see Bonh\u00f6ffer, _Epikt._ 56 f.; cf. Cic., _TD._ i, 36 f.;\nSen., _C. ad Marc._ 19, 4. When Stoics speak occasionally of\n_inferi_ or ~ha/|d\u00eas~ as the abode of the souls, they are only using\nmetaphorical language. When the word is not a mere conventionalism,\nthey mean the regions nearer the earth, the cloud regions and lower\nlevels of the air, ~ho pachumere/statos kai\\ prosgeio/tatos a\u00ea/r~\n(Corn., _ND._ 5, p. 4, 17 L; other exx. in Heinze, _Xenokr._ 147,\n2). Here the \"unwise\" souls (the moister, less buoyant ones) are\nsupposed to remain after death (_circa terram_ as Tert., _An._ 54\nsays, alluding to Stoic doctrine--and this is obviously where the\n_inferi_ mentioned at the end of the same chapter are situated).\nThis ~a\u00ea/r~ (distinguished from the higher regions of the air) =\n~ha/|d\u00eas~, must have been what Zeno referred to when he spoke of the\n_loca tenebrosa_ where the souls of the unwise have to expiate their\nfolly (quoted and varied by Lact., _Inst._ 7, 7, 13, in a Platonic\nsense [i, 40 Arn.]).]\n\n[53\\14: Abode of the souls in the air: S. E., _M._ ix, 73; Cic.,\n_TD._ i, 42-3, both probably after Poseid. Cf. sapientum animas in\nsupernis mansionibus **collocant (Stoici), Tert., _An._, 54.\nGenerally: ~eis to\\n ae/ra methi/stasthai~ said of the departed\nsouls, M. Ant. iv, 21. ~en t\u00f4=| perie/chonti . . . diame/nein ta\\s\nt\u00f4=n apothano/nt\u00f4n psucha/s~, Ar. Did. ap. Eus., _PE._ xv, 822 A\n[ii, 225 Arn.]. (Gradual ascent to ever higher regions, Sen., _C. ad\nMarc._ 25, 1--hardly orthodox Stoic doctrine.--The conception may\npossibly belong to the older Stoicism, and may underlie the opinion\nof Chrysipp.: ~sphairoeidei=s~--as fiery ~mete/\u00f4ra--ta\\s psucha\\s\n{517} meta\\ tha/naton gi/nesthai~, ap. Eust., _Il._ 1288, 10 f. [224\nArn.]. Poseid. seems to have worked it out further, probably making\nuse also of Pythagorean and Platonic fancies to which he was\ndistinctly inclined. The Pythagoreans had fancies about the souls\nhovering in the air (see above, chap. xi, n. 35), of the sun and\nmoon as places where the souls lived (chap. x, n. 76). Acc. to\nPoseid. the souls inhabit ~to\\n hupo\\ sel\u00ea/n\u00ean to/pon~ (S.E., _M._\nix, 73) as suitable for divine but not perfect creatures. It is the\nsouls who are meant when people speak of ~dai/mones~ (S.E. \u00a7 74), or\n~h\u00ea/r\u00f4es~ (Stoic in this use D.L. vi, 151 [ii, 320 Arn.]); cf.\n_heroes et lares et genii_, Varro using Stoic language (ap. Aug.,\n_CD._ vii, 6, p. 282, 14 Domb.). The whole air is full of them: Pos.\nap. Cic., _Div._ i, 64. Something very similar given as Pythag.\ndoctrine by Alex. Polyh. ap. D.L. viii, 32; see above, chap. xi, n.\n35. But Poseidonios (esp. if he is really the source of the\nCiceronian _Somn. Scip._) seems to have emulated more particularly\nthe imaginative efforts of Herakleides Pont. and his story of\nEmpedotimos' vision (see above, chap. ix, n. 111). Herakl.\ncontributed largely to popularizing the idea that the souls inhabit\nthe air and giving it shape; the interest with which his fancies\nwere studied is shown by the quotations from his book so common from\nVarro down to Proclus and Damascius. He must have been led to make\nthe souls, on being freed from the body, float upwards (and occupy\nthe stars or the moon--which are inhabitable heavenly bodies: _Dox._\n343, 7 ff.; 356a, 10) by the view--just as the Stoics after him\nwere--that the soul is an ~aithe/rion s\u00f4=ma~\n(Philop.)--~ph\u00f4toeid\u00ea/s~, a _lumen_, Tert., _An._ 9. In this he is\nfollowing an idea that had been common in the fifth century (held by\nXenophanes, Epicharmos, Eurip.: see above, p. 436 ff.), and had even\nattained popular vogue. This idea from the very first led to the\nconclusion that the soul, when ready for it, enters ~eis to\\n\nho/moion aithe/ra~ and ascends to the upper regions (of the aether).\nHerakleides carried this idea further and embellished it with\nphilosophical and astronomical fancies. (On another occasion he\nseems to have denied substance and consistency to individual\n\"souls\": Plu., _Mor._ v, p. 699 Wytt.--a view to which his doctrine\nof the ~o/gkoi~ might easily have led him.) Poseidonios then took up\nthis idea of Herakl. In this way, or at least not uninfluenced by\nthis semi-philosophical literature, the belief in the abode of the\n\"souls\" in the aether attained the popularity that grave\ninscriptions witness for it (see below, ch. xiv, 2, n. 135).]\n\n[54\\14: Cicero, following Poseid., imagines a blissful observation\nof the earth and the stars by the souls in the air: _TD._ i, 44-7\n(cf. Sen., _C. ad Marc._ 25, 1-2); and similarly in _Somn. Sci._; in\nboth cases the idea certainly comes from Herakl. Pont.]\n\n[55\\14: ~apo/spasma tou= theou=~ [i, 36 Arn.].]\n\n[56\\14: A frequently repeated Stoic dogma (stated with particular\nfullness by Senec., _Ep._ 93): see Gataker on M. Ant. (iii, 7), p.\n108-9. The happiness of the (Stoic) wise man does not require\n~m\u00ea=kos bi/ou te/leiou~ as Aristot. had maintained (see above, n.\n32). In this point Stoic and Epicurean doctrine fully agreed: magni\nartificis est clusisse totum in exiguo: tantum sapienti sua, quantum\ndeo omnis aetas patet (Sen., _Ep._ 53, 11, and see below, n. 92).]\n\n[57\\14: Acc. to Panaitios there are _duo genera_ in the soul which\nhe calls _inflammata anima_ (Cic., _TD._ i, 42). It is at any rate\nvery probable that Panaitios (and Bo\u00ebthos--roughly contemporary with\nPan.: see Comparetti, _Ind. Stoic._, p. 78 f.--acc. to Macr., _in S.\nScip._ 1, 14, 20) regarded the soul as compounded of two elements,\n_aer et ignis_, not {518} as a single and uncompounded ~pneu=ma\ne/nthermon~ as the older Stoa had taught (see Schmekel, _Philos. d.\nmittl. Stoa_, 324 f.).]\n\n[58\\14: ~phu/sis~ and ~psuch\u00ea/~: Pan. ap. Nemes., _NH._, p. 212\nMatth. This clearly shows a tendency to a psychological dualism:\nZeller, _Stoics and Epicureans_, p. 542 f. What further suggestions\nwere made by Pan. about the division of the soul remains very\nproblematical. The only more precise statement is Cicero's, _TD._ i,\n80 (speaking of Pan.), aegritudines iras libidinesque semotas a\nmente et disclusas putat.]\n\n[59\\14: Panaitios denied not merely the immortality but even the\n~diamon\u00ea/~ of the soul after death: Cic., _TD._ i, 78-9. Two reasons\nare there given: everything that has come into being (like the soul\nof man at birth) must also perish--the Aristotelian principle: see\nabove, n. 25; what can feel pain (as the soul does) must become\ndiseased and what is diseased must eventually perish. (Here the\n**destruction of the soul from its own inward decay is asserted--not\nfrom the effect of external force at the world conflagration, the\nperiodic occurrence of which Pan. at least called in question.) Acc.\nto Schmekel (_mittl. Stoa_, p. 309) it follows from Cic., _TD._ i,\n42, that Panaitios also added a third argument: that the soul being\ncomposite must suffer the dissolution of its parts in death which\nchange into other elements. This does not indeed at all follow from\nthe passage, but such a view would almost have been inevitable with\nPanaitios' doctrine of the soul and had already been suggested by\nKarneades in his polemic against the indestructibility of the divine\nand of every ~z\u00f4=|on~--an argument to which Pan. on the whole\nyielded.]\n\n[60\\14: Poseidonios distinguished in the human soul not three parts\nbut three ~duna/meis mia=s ousi/as ek t\u00ea=s kardi/as horm\u00f4me/n\u00eas~\n(Gal. v, 515), namely, the Platonic three, the ~logistiko/n,\nthumoeide/s, epithum\u00eatiko/n~ (Gal. v, 476). The last two are the\n~duna/meis a/logoi~ (they only give ~phantasi/ai~ the special forms\ntaken by their impulses: Gal. v, 474, 399). The ~pa/th\u00ea~ are not\njudgments nor the consequences of judgment but the motions\n(~kin\u00ea/seis~) of these ~duna/meis a/logoi~ (Gal. v, 429; cf. 378).\nIn this way alone is it possible to understand how passion or\nwrong-doing can arise in man; it is because soul is not (as\nChrysipp. had taught) pure reasoning power (cf. also Gal. iv, 820).\nThere exists then in man an ~a/logon kai\\ kako/daimon kai\\\n_a/theon_~ in addition to the ~dai/m\u00f4n suggen\u00ea\\s t\u00f4=| to\\n ho/lon\nko/smon dioikou=nti~: Gal. v, 469 f. How, indeed, this is possible\nwhen the soul is a single ~ousi/a~ and in its nature nothing but\ndivine ~pneu=ma~ it is difficult to say.--Pos. too was quite\nignorant of an evil principle in the world, not the divine or\ncontrary to the divine principle. The ethical teaching of Stoicism\nhad always contained a dualism which is here transferred to the\nphysical doctrine where it was originally unknown. From the time of\nPos. there is an ever growing tendency to emphasize the contrast\n(which was, however, always familiar to the older Stoics as well)\nbetween \"soul\" and \"body\", the _inutilis caro ac fluida_, Pos. ap.\nSen., _Ep._ 92, 10. In view of this contrast the \"soul\" too is no\nlonger said to come into being with the body or with the physical\nconception of the individual (cf. ~gegone/nai t\u00ea\\n psuch\u00ea\\n kai\\\nmetageneste/ran ei=nai [tou= s\u00f4/matos]~, Chrysipp. ap. Plu., _Sto.\nRep._ 1053 D [ii, 222 Arn.]), but rather to have been living before\nthat, in the separate life of the divine. It is nowhere expressly or\nauthoritatively stated that Poseidonios held the \"pre-existence\" of\nthe \"soul\"; but that view has been rightly attributed to him,\nfitting in as it does with his other ideas, and because it is often\nintroduced and taken for granted in those passages where {519}\nCicero or Seneca are following Pos. (see Corssen, _de Pos. Rhod._,\np. 25 ff. But we may not read the doctrine of pre-existence into\nS.E., _M._ ix, 71, as Heinze, _Xenok._ 134, 2, does). If the\nsoul-~dai/m\u00f4n~ was in existence before its incarnation it can\npresumably only enter the body with the conception of the individual\nlife ~thu/rathen~, _tractus extrinsecus_ as Cic. puts it, _Div._ ii,\n119; a passage obviously related (as Bonh\u00f6ffer, _Epikt._ 79 remarks)\nto the statement in _Div._ i, 64, where he is speaking of the\n_immortales animi_ of which the air is full--and there Pos. is\nmentioned by name as the authority. From its pre-existent life in\nthe air the \"soul\" enters into man. The multitude of individual\nbodiless souls--not only the one impersonal soul-substance of the\nworld--were thus living before their ~ens\u00f4ma/t\u00f4sis~, and the Stoic\npantheism thus turns into a rather questionable \"pandaemonism\". On\nthe other hand, Poseidonios in opposition to his teacher, Panaitios,\nadheres to the doctrine of the periodic extinction of all life in\nthe one Soul of the World, the original Fire: cf. _Dox._ 388a, 18;\nb, 19. Holding this view he cannot very well have put the origin of\neach of the individual soul-daimones before the beginning of the\nparticular world-period in which they live. Nor can the survival of\nthe souls after their separation from the body be prolonged beyond\nthe next ~ekpu/r\u00f4sis~ (which makes Cicero's _immortales animi_\ninexact: _Div._ i, 64, after Pos.). Thus, although the survival\nwhich Panaitios had denied is reaffirmed it does not go beyond the\nqualified doctrine of immortality which the older Stoics had held.\nAt the same time Pos. could hold, with Chrysipp. and other Stoics,\nthat there was a ~periodik\u00ea\\ paliggenesi/a~ (M. Ant. xi, 1) after\nthe world-conflagration and even that each individual man of the\nprevious world-period would be restored again in precisely the same\nplace (Chrysipp. ap. Lact., _Inst._ 7, 23, 3, etc.; ii, 189 Arn.;\ncf. the Orphico-Pythagorean fantasy: above, chap. x, n. 47). But\nthis would not amount to an ~athanasi/a~ for the individual: the\nindividual life has been interrupted and is separated from its\n~apokata/stasis~ by a long interval of time.--There is no\nsatisfactory reason for assigning to Pos. the belief in a series of\n~metens\u00f4mat\u00f4/seis~ of the soul--as Heinze does, _Xen._ 132\nff.--though such an idea would not have been hard to arrive at, even\nwhile holding fast to the doctrine of the final ~ekpu/r\u00f4sis~. But\nthe dubious accounts given by many ~doxogra/phoi~ of Stoic teaching\non the question of the ~metaggismo\\s psuch\u00f4=n~ need not necessarily\nrefer to Poseidonios: nor are we bound to draw this conclusion\nbecause they reappear in Plutarch. Plu. does indeed here and there\nfollow Poseidonios, but he never hesitates to add Platonic ideas or\nfancies of his own invention, a fact which makes it most risky to\nattempt to fix an exact source for any particular detail in his\nvariegated mosaic.]\n\n[61\\14: Schmekel (_Phil. d. mittl. Stoa_, 1892) maintains\nconvincingly that Panaitios was led to his view of the nature and\nfate of the soul chiefly by the polemic of Karneades against the\ndogmatic philosophers and particularly the Stoics. It is less\ncertain that Poseidonios and his heterodox views are influenced by\nrespect for Karneades. It is certain, however, that Pos. differs\nfrom Chrysipp., and still more from Panaitios. There is thus an\nindirect connexion between him and Karneades, to whose criticisms\nPanaitios had in the most essential points given way.]\n\n[62\\14: That Pos. is being used in the first book of _Tusc. Disp._\nis admitted on all hands (as to the extent of that use conjecture\nmay indeed be various). It is at least very possible in the case of\n_Somn. Scip._ (see Corssen, _Pos._ 40 ff.).--The attraction of such\ntheories of immortality {520} remained an aesthetic one with Cicero\n(and probably among all the cultured of his age and social circle).\nWhere he is not speaking rhetorically or in pursuance of a literary\npose--in his letters esp.--he shows no trace of the conviction that\nhe defends at other times with so much ardour (see Boissier, _Rel.\nrom. d'Aug. aux Ant._ i, 58 f.).]\n\n[63\\14: ~ou kata\\ psil\u00ea\\n para/taxin, alla\\ lelogisme/n\u00f4s kai\\\nsemn\u00f4=s~ though not always quite ~atrag\u00f4/|d\u00f4s~ (M. Ant. xi, 3).]\n\n[64\\14: Julius Kanus when condemned to death by Gaius only attempts\nto _enquire_ whether there is any truth in the belief in\nimmortality: Sen., _Tr. An._ 14, 8-9. De natura animae et\ndissociatione spiritus corporisque inquirebat Thrasea Paetus, before\nhis execution, with his instructor Demetrius the Cynic: Tac., _A._\nxvi, 34. They have no firm conviction in these matters that might\nserve to explain or account for their heroism (Cato reads the\n_Phaedo_ before his suicide: Plu., _Cat. min._ 68, 70).]\n\n[65\\14: nos quoque felices animae et aeterna sortitae says the soul\nof her father to Marcia: Sen., _C. ad Marc._ 26, 7, in antiqua\nelementa vertemur at the ~ekpu/r\u00f4sis~.]\n\n[66\\14: Sen., _Ep._ 88, 34.]\n\n[67\\14: _bellum somnium_, Sen., _Ep._ 102, 2.]\n\n[68\\14: Where Seneca admits more positive conceptions of a life\nafter death he never goes beyond a fortasse, si modo vera sapientium\nfama est (_Ep._ 63, 16); a deliberate concession to the consensus\nhominum (_Ep._ 117, 6) or the opiniones magnorum virorum rem\ngratissimam promittentium magis quam probantium (_Ep._ 102, 3).\nFollowing the conventional style of consolatory discourses he gives\nsuch expressions a more vivid turn in the _Consolationes_: e.g.\n_Marc._ 25, 1 ff.; _Helv._ 11, 7; _Polyb._ 9, 8. But even there the\nidea of _personal_ immortality hardly seems to be taken seriously.\nIn the same pieces death is commended simply as putting an end to\nall pain, and, in fact, to all sensation: _Marc._ 19, 4-5. In death\nwe become again as we were before being born, _Marc._ 19, 5; cf.\n_Ep._ 54, 4, mors est non esse, id quale sit iam scio. hoc erit post\nme quod ante me fuit; and _Ep._ 77, 11, non eris: nec fuisti. So\nthat whether death is a _finis_ or a _transitus_, (_Prov._ 6, 6;\n_Ep._ 65, 24), it is equally welcome to the wise man who has made\nthe most of his life, however short it may have been. Whether he\ngoes then to the gods or whether on the other hand nothing is left\nof the mortal creature after death aeque magnum animum habebit\n(_Ep._ 93, 10); cf. nunquam magis divinum est (pectus humanum) quam\nubi mortalitatem suam cogitat, et scit in hoc natum hominem ut vita\ndefungeretur cet., (_Ep._ 120, 14); ipsum perire non est magnum,\nanima in expedito est habenda (_QN._ 6, 32, 5); to be ready is\neverything.--Of the old Stoic dogmas the only one that seems to\nremain certain for Seneca is that of ~paliggenesi/a~ at the new\ncreation of the world, _Ep._ 36, 10-11: mors intermittit vitam, non\neripit: venit iterum qui nos in lucem reponat dies; but that is not\nin any way a consolation: multi recusarent nisi oblitos reduceret.\nConsciousness ceases with the coming of death in this world-period.]\n\n[69\\14: It is very rarely that the utterances of the Emperor on the\nsubject of what happens after death resemble those of a convinced\nStoic of the old school. The souls are all parts of the one ~noera\\\npsuch\u00ea/~ of the world which though extended over so many individual\nsouls yet remains a unity (ix, 8; xii, 30). After death the\nindividual soul will survive for a period in the air until it is\nmerged into the universal soul ~eis to\\n t\u00f4=n ho/l\u00f4n spermatiko\\n\nlo/gon~ (iv, 21). This implies the survival of the personal self for\nan undefined period, but it is {521} not a fixed conviction of M.\nAnt. As a rule he allows the choice between ~sbe/sis \u00ea\\\nmeta/stasis~, i.e. immediate extinction and merging of the\nindividual soul (Panait.) or its removal into a temporary abode of\nthe souls in the air (~hai eis to\\n ae/ra methista/menai psuchai/~,\niv, 21; cf. v, 53). Or else the choice is between ~sbe/sis,\nmeta/stasis~ (both in agreement with the Stoic doctrine of the\n~he/n\u00f4sis~ of the soul) or ~skedasmo/s~ of the soul-elements, in\ncase the atomists are right (vii, 32; viii, 25; vi, 24)--a dilemma\nwhich really comes down to ~skedasmo/s~ or ~sbe/sis (= l\u00eaphth\u00ea=nai\neis tou\\s ko/smou spermatikou\\s lo/gous~); and ~meta/stasis~ falls\nout. This is probably the meaning also of x, 7: ~\u00ea/toi skedasmo\\s\nstoichei/\u00f4n \u00ea\\ _trop\u00ea/_~ (in which ~to\\ pneumatiko/n~ disappears\n~eis to\\ aer\u00f4=des~) and ~trop\u00ea/~ only of the last ~pneumatiko/n~\nthat man preserves in himself: for here (at the end of the chapter)\nthe identity of the individual soul with itself is given up in the\nHerakleitean manner (see above, p. 370). Sometimes the choice is\npresented between ~anaisth\u00easi/a~ or ~he/teros bi/os~ after death\n(iii, 3) or ~ai/sth\u00easis heteroi/a~ in an ~alloi=on z\u00f4=|on~ (viii,\n58). This is no allusion to metempsychosis (in which the envelope\ninto which the soul goes is another but its ~ai/sth\u00easis~ does not\nbecome ~heteroi/a~): it means the turning of the _soul-pneuma_,\nexhaled in death, to new forms of life united to the previous forms\nby no identity of soul-personality. In this case we can indeed say\n~tou= z\u00ea=n ou pau/s\u00ea|~: but there can be no idea of the survival of\nthe personal ego. ~h\u00ea t\u00f4=n ho/l\u00f4n phu/sis~ exchanges and\nredistributes its elements; all things are changing (viii, 6; ix,\n28). The Emperor never seriously thinks of the survival of\npersonality; he seeks rather to inquire why things are as they are;\nbut he never doubts that as a matter of fact even the noblest of\nmankind must also \"go out\" completely with death (xii, 5).\nEverything changes and one thing perishes to make way for another\n(xii, 21); and so each man must say to himself ~met' ou polu\\\noudei\\s oudamou= e/s\u00ea|~ (xii, 21; viii, 5). The wise man will say it\nwith calmness: his soul is ~he/toimos ea\\n \u00ea/d\u00ea apoluth\u00ea=nai de/\u00ea|\ntou= s\u00f4/matos . . .~ xi, 3. Living among men to whom his way of\nthought is strange (~en t\u00ea=| diaph\u00f4ni/a| t\u00ea=s sumbi\u00f4/se\u00f4s~) he sighs\nat times ~tha=tton e/lthois, \u00f4= tha/nate . . .~ ix, 3; cf.\nBonh\u00f6ffer, _Epikt. u. d. Stoa_, 59 ff.]\n\n[70\\14: I shall die without resisting God ~eid\u00f4\\s ho/ti to\\\ngeno/menon kai\\ phthar\u00ea=nai dei=. ou ga/r eimi ai\u00f4\\n all'\na/nthr\u00f4pos, me/ros t\u00f4=n pa/nt\u00f4n h\u00f4s h\u00f4/ra h\u00eame/ras; enst\u00ea=nai/ me\ndei= h\u00f4s t\u00ea\\n h\u00f4/ran kai\\ parelthei=n h\u00f4s h\u00f4/ran~, Epictet. ii, 5,\n13. The present must make way for the future ~hi/n' h\u00ea peri/odos\nanu/\u00eatai tou= ko/smou~, ii, 17-18; iv, 1, 106. Death brings with it\nnot complete destruction, ~ouk ap\u00f4/leian~, but ~t\u00f4=n prote/r\u00f4n eis\nhe/tera metabola/s~, iii, 24, 91-4. But the personality of the now\nliving individual does indeed perish completely in death.--Cf.\nBonh\u00f6ffer, _Epiktet_, 65 f.; cf. also the same author's _Ethik des\nEpiktet_, p. 26 ff., 52 (1894).]\n\n[71\\14: Cornutus ap. Stob., _Ecl._ i, 383, 24-384, 2 W.]\n\n[72\\14: The ~psuch\u00ea/~ a ~s\u00f4=ma~ (the only ~as\u00f4/maton~ is empty space\nwhich is merely a passage way for the ~s\u00f4/mata~), D.L, x, 67 [p. 21\nUs.]. It is a ~s\u00f4=ma leptomere/s, par' ho/lon to\\ a/throisma~ (i.e.\nof atoms to a body) ~paresparme/non, prosemphere/staton de\\\npneu/mati thermou= tina kra=sin e/chonti~, D.L. x, 63. Cf. Lucr.\niii, 126 ff.; more precise is iii, 231-46. It is the ~a/throisma~\nwhich ~t\u00ea\\n psuch\u00ea\\n stega/zei~, D.L. x, 64. vas quasi constitit\neius, Lucr. iii, 440, 555.]\n\n[73\\14: Lucr. iii, 94 ff., 117 ff.]\n\n[74\\14: The ~a/logon ho\\ en t\u00f4=| loip\u00f4=| pare/spartai s\u00f4/mati, to\\\nde\\ logiko\\n en t\u00f4=| th\u00f4/raki~, Sch. D.L. x, 67 (p. 21 Us.), _fr._\n312, 313 Us. _anima_ and _animus_, Lucr. iii, 136 ff. The _anima_,\nthough it is diminished {522} when the man loses his limbs (in which\nit inheres), yet allows him to remain alive. The _animus_, however,\n_vitai claustra coercens_, must not be diminished otherwise the\n_anima_ escapes as well and the man dies: Lucr. iii, 396 ff. The\n_animus_ with its perceptions is more independent of _anima_ and\n_corpus_ than they are of it: Lucr. iii, 145 ff.]\n\n[75\\14: Lucr. iii, 421-4.]\n\n[76\\14: Lucr. iii, 445 ff.]\n\n[77\\14: The soul ~diaspei/retai, luome/nou tou= ho/lou\nathroi/smatos~ and cannot retain any ~ai/sth\u00easis~ apart from its\n~a/throisma~, D L. x, 65-6. The winds disperse it: Lucr. iii, 506\nff. ~kapnou= di/k\u00ean ski/dnatai~, Epicur. _fr._ 337. _ceu fumus_,\nLucr. iii, 446-583.]\n\n[78\\14: radicitus e vita se tollit et eicit, Lucr. iii, 877.]\n\n[79\\14: Lucr. iii, 854-60; 847-53.]\n\n[80\\14: ~oude\\ taph\u00ea=s phrontiei=n (to\\n sopho/n)~ _fr._ 578. Cf.\nLucr. iii, 870 ff. The way in which the body, deserted by its soul,\nis buried or disposed of is of no consequence: Phld., _Mort._, p.\n41-2 Mekl.]\n\n[81\\14: D.L. x, 124-5.]\n\n[82\\14: ~ho tha/natos oude\\n pro\\s h\u00eama=s, to\\ ga\\r dialuthe\\n\nanaisth\u00eatei=, to\\ de\\ anaisth\u00eatou=n oude\\n pro\\s h\u00eama=s~, Ep.,\n_Sent._ ii; D.L. x, 139 (p. 71 Us.). Frequently repeated: see Usen.,\np. 391 f.]\n\n[83\\14: dolor and morbus, leti fabricator uterque, affect the soul\ntoo, Lucr. iii, 459 ff., 470 ff., 484 ff. Nothing that can be broken\nup into parts can be eternal; 640 ff., 667 ff. The chief argument:\nquod cum corpore nascitur, cum corpore intereat necesse est, Ep.,\n_fr._ 336. (They are identical in part with the arguments which\nKarneades directed against the theory of the eternity and\nindestructibility of the highest ~z\u00f4=|on~, God. Karn. must have got\nthem from Epicurus.)]\n\n[84\\14: Cf. Ep., _Sent._ xi, p. 73 f. Us.]\n\n[85\\14: To be able to see ~m\u00eade\\n pro\\s h\u00eama=s ei=nai to\\n\ntha/naton, apo/lauston poiei= to\\ t\u00ea=s z\u00f4|\u00ea=s thn\u00eato/n, ouk a/peiron\nprotithei=sa chro/non alla\\ to\\n t\u00ea=s athanasi/as aphelome/n\u00ea\npo/thon~, D.L. x, 123; cf. Metrod. (?), ed. K\u00f6rte, p. 588, col.\nxvi.]\n\n[86\\14: ~gego/namen ha/pax, di\\s de\\ ouk e/sti gene/sthai ktl.~\nhence _carpe diem_! _fr._ 204; see also _fr._ 490-4. Metrod. _fr._\n53 K.]\n\n[87\\14: D.L. x, 81.]\n\n[88\\14: Against the fear of torment and punishment in the\nunderworld: _fr._ 340-1, cf. Lucr. iii, 1011 ff. (torments such as\nthose fabled of Hades exist in _this_ world: iii, 978 ff.). Cf. the\nletter of the Epicurean Diogenes, _Rh. Mus._ 47, 428 ~. . .\nphobou=mai ga\\r oude\\n~ (sc. ~to\\n tha/naton) dia\\ tou\\s Tituou\\s\nkai\\ tou\\s Tanta/lous hou\\s anagra/phousin en Ha/idou tine/s, oude\\\nphri/tt\u00f4 t\u00ea\\n mu/d\u00easin (m\u00ea/d\u00easin~ the stone) ~ktl.~]\n\n[89\\14: metus ille foras praeceps Acheruntis agendus, funditus\nhumanam qui vitam turbat ab imo, omnia suffundens mortis nigrore\nneque ullam esse voluptatem liquidam puramque reliquit, Lucr. iii,\n37 ff.]\n\n[90\\14: D.L. x, 126. ridiculum est currere ad mortem taedio vitae,\n_fr._ 496.]\n\n[91\\14: artifex vitae, Sen. _Ep._ 90, 27.]\n\n[92\\14: ~--su\\ de\\ t\u00ea=s au/rion ouk \u00f4\\n ku/rios anaba/ll\u00ea| to\\n\nkairo/n; ho de\\ pa/nt\u00f4n bi/os mell\u00easm\u00f4=| parapo/llutai . . .~ _fr._\n204.]\n\n[93\\14: Negat Epicurus ne diuturnitatem quidem temporis ad beate\nvivendum aliquid afferre, nec minorem voluptatem percipi in\nbrevitate temporis quam si sit illa sempiterna, Cic., _Fin._ ii, 87;\ncf. Ep., _Sent._ xix (p. 75 Us.). ~chro/non ou to\\n m\u00ea/kiston alla\\\nto\\n h\u00ea/diston karpi/zetai (ho sopho/s)~: D.L. x, 126.--quae mala\nnos subigit vitai tanta cupido, Lucr. iii, 1077. eadem sunt omnia\nsemper, 945.] {523}\n\n[94\\14: ~h\u00ea dia/noia . . . to\\n pantel\u00ea= bi/on pareskeu/asen kai\\\noude\\n e/ti tou= apei/rou chro/nou prosede\u00ea/th\u00ea~, _Sent._ xx (p. 75\nUs.).]\n\n[95\\14: ~ouk e/sti phusik\u00ea\\ koin\u00f4ni/a toi=s logikoi=s pro\\s\nall\u00ea/lous~.--_sibi quemque consulere_, _fr._ 523. Aloofness from\n~tai=s t\u00f4=n pl\u00eath\u00f4=n archai=s~ _frr._ 554, 552, 9.]\n\n[96\\14: ~hoi no/moi cha/rin t\u00f4=n soph\u00f4=n kei=ntai, ouch ho/p\u00f4s m\u00ea\\\nadik\u00f4=sin, all' ho/p\u00f4s m\u00ea\\ adik\u00f4=ntai~, _fr._ 530.]\n\n[97\\14: ~ouke/ti dei= s\u00f4/|zein tou\\s He/ll\u00eanas, oud' epi\\ sophi/a|\nstepha/n\u00f4n par' autoi=s tugcha/nein . . .~ Metrod. _fr._ 41.]\n\n\n{{524}}\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\nPART II\n\nPOPULAR BELIEF\n\n\nPhilosophic teaching and the philosophic outlook were at this time\nby no means confined exclusively to the narrow circles dominated by\nparticular schools. Never more widely or more effectively than in\nthis Hellenistic period did philosophy in one shape or another\nprovide the basis and common medium of a culture that no one of\nmoderate wealth and leisure would willingly be without. Such ideas\nas educated people of the time generally possessed, dealing in a\nmore connected and definite form with the things of this life and\nexistence that lie beyond the scope of immediate perception, were\nall drawn from the teaching of philosophy. To a certain extent this\nis true also of the current views as to the nature and destiny of\nthe soul. But in the region of the unknowable philosophy can never\nentirely replace or suppress the natural--the irrational beliefs--of\nmankind. Such beliefs were in their natural element in dealing with\nsuch subjects. They influenced even the philosophically enlightened\nand their authority was supreme with the many who in every age are\nincapable of understanding the disinterested search for knowledge.\nEven in this supreme period of universal philosophic culture,\npopular beliefs about the soul still remained in force, unmodified\nby the speculations or the exhortations of philosophers.\n\nThey had their roots--these beliefs--not in any form of speculative\nthought but in the practice of the Cult of Souls: and that Cult, as\nit has been described[1\\15] for an earlier stage of Greek life,\nstill went on unaltered and with undiminished vigour. This may be\nasserted with confidence, though we can produce no very important\nevidence from the literature of this later period. The character and\ncontent of that literature is such that we should hardly expect to\nfind such evidence in it. But for the most part the literary\nevidence from which we were able to illustrate the Cult of Souls in\nan earlier period may be taken to apply equally to the age with\nwhich we are now dealing. Even in its final years Lucian's pamphlet\n_On Mourning_ bears express witness to the survival of the ancient\nand sanctified usages in their fullest compass. We hear again of the\nwashing, anointing, {525} and crowning of the dead, the ceremonious\nlying-in-state upon the bier, the violent and extravagant lament\nover the dead body, and all the traditional customs that are still\nin full force. Last comes the solemn interment of the body--the\narticles of luxury burnt together with the corpse of the dead man or\nburied with him in the grave--articles that had once belonged to him\nand which he is supposed to enjoy even in death--the feeding of the\nhelpless soul of the dead with libations of wine and\nburnt-offerings--the ritual fasting of the relatives only broken,\nafter three days, in the Banquet of the Dead.[2\\15]\n\nThe dead man must not be deprived of a single one of \"the customary\nthings\"--only so can his well-being be fully secured.[3\\15] The most\nimportant of these is the solemn interment of the body. This is\ncarried out not only by the family of the dead man, but in many\ncases also by the society to which he may have belonged.[4\\15] In\nthese times when the cities sought to make up for the loss of more\nserious interests in their life by an often touching care for the\nimmediate and the insignificant, deserving citizens were frequently\nhonoured with elaborate funeral processions in which the\nmunicipality took part;[5\\15] the city fathers would then probably\ndecree that representatives should be sent to the survivors and\ncommissioned to express the sympathy of the city in their loss and\ndistract their minds from their grief by a speech.[6\\15]\n\nThe ritual act of burial, the object of so much pious zeal, was the\nvery reverse of the indifferent matter that philosophy loved to\nrepresent it.[7\\15] The sanctity of the place where rests the dead\nis also a matter of great importance, not only for the dead man\nhimself but for the rest of the family which desires to be still\nunited in the life of the spirit world, and so inhabits a common\nburial-ground (generally outside the city, very rarely within,[8\\15]\nbut sometimes, even yet, actually inside the house.[9\\15] The\nfounder of a family-grave desires the members of it to be joined\ntogether in the same grave for at least three generations.[10\\15]\nThose who have a right to be buried there take steps--religious and\nlegal or municipal--against the profanation of this family tomb and\nsanctuary by the burying in it of strangers or the pillaging of the\nvault--a practice that became increasingly common in the final\nperiod of the antique world.[11\\15] There are innumerable\ngrave-notices threatening money penalties in accordance with the\nancient law of the city, to be paid into the public treasury by\nthose who violate the peace of the grave.[12\\15] No less common are\nthe inscriptions which place the grave and its sanctity {526} under\nthe protection of the underworld deities, invoking at the same time\nthe most shocking curses--torments and calamities both temporal and\neternal--against profaners of the holiness of the tomb.[13\\15]\nEspecially the inhabitants of certain districts of Asia Minor, only\nvery superficially Hellenized, give themselves free rein in the\naccumulation of such violent execrations. In their case the dark\nsuperstitions of ancestral and native worship of gods or spirits may\nhave infected the Hellenes also--it is often the Greeks who become\nbarbarian rather than the barbarians who are Hellenized in the\nhistory of Greek relations with these stubborn and barbarous native\npopulations.[14\\15] But even in lands where the Greek population has\nmaintained itself without admixture such execrations are\noccasionally to be found in graves.\n\nAs time went on and the sanctity and peace of the grave began to be\nmore and more seriously threatened, measures of all kinds were taken\nfor its protection. The grave is no mere chamber of corruption; the\nsouls of the dead dwell there,[15\\15] and therefore is it holy; as a\nsanctuary it becomes completely sanctified when it has received the\nlast member of the family, and is enclosed for ever.[16\\15] The\nfamily so long as it lasts continues to pay the regular Soul-Cult to\nits ancestors;[17\\15] sometimes special foundations ensure the\npayment for ever[18\\15] of the Soul-Cult of which the dead have\nneed.[19\\15] Even those whose burial place lies far away from the\ngraves of their own family[20\\15] are not entirely deprived of\nbenevolent care and cult.\n\nThe pre-supposition of all Cult of Souls--that the dead survive to\nenjoy at least a gloomy sepulchral existence in their last\nresting-place--is everywhere vividly implied. It speaks to us with\narchaic simplicity from those grave-stones upon which the dead, as\nthough still accessible to the sounds of the human voice and able to\nunderstand the words of the living, are addressed with the customary\nwords of greeting.[21\\15] Sometimes the dead man himself is provided\nwith a similar greeting which he is supposed to address to the\npassers-by[22\\15]--between him, confined to his grave, and the\nothers who still walk about in the daylight a dialogue takes\nplace.[23\\15] The dead man is not entirely cut off from the affairs\nof the upper world. He feels an access of fresh life when he is\ncalled by the name that he had once borne in his life-time, and the\nmemory of which is now preserved only by his gravestone. His\nfellow-citizens call upon him three times by name at his\nburial;[24\\15] but even in the grave {527} he is capable of hearing\nthe precious sound. On a gravestone at Athens[25\\15] the dead man\nenjoins upon the members of the actors' guild to which he had\nbelonged to call upon his name in chorus whenever they pass by his\ngrave, and to gladden him with the sound of hand-clapping, to which\nhe had been accustomed in life. At other times the passer-by \"kisses\nhis hand\"[26\\15] to the dead man; a gesture which denotes the honour\npaid to a Hero.[27\\15] The soul is not merely alive; it belongs now,\nas primitive and age-long belief expressed it, to the Higher and\nMightier Ones.[28\\15] Perhaps this exaltation of the wrath and power\nof the dead is the meaning of the custom by which the dead are\ncalled the Good, the Honest (~chr\u00eastoi/~). This usage must have\nbecome established at an early period,[29\\15] but it is not until\nthese later days that it is first employed as an addition to the\nsimple words of greeting addressed to the dead on gravestones. In\nthis use it is not uniformly current; it is rare in Attica (at\nleast, on graves of natives of that country); whereas in Boeotia,\nThessaly, and the countries of Asia Minor it is frequent and almost\nuniversal.[30\\15] In fact it is natural to suppose[31\\15] that this\nmode of address, originally a euphemistic title addressed to the\nghosts of the dead who were conceived as quite capable of acting in\na manner the very reverse of that attributed to them by the word,\nwas intended to suggest the power belonging to the personality so\naddressed as one who has risen to a higher form of existence--and to\nvenerate him with becoming awe.[32\\15]\n\n\u00a7 2\n\nThe conception of the departed spirit as one who has been raised to\na higher state of dignity and power receives clearer and more\nconscious expression where the departed one is called a Hero.\n\nThis class of intermediate beings standing on the border line\nbetween mankind and godhead--the world of the Heroes--was in no\ndanger of extinction at this period of Greek religious belief. The\nattitude of mind that could think of certain special souls as\nwithdrawn from the limitations of visible existence and raised to a\nhigher spiritual state remained still vigorous and was even able to\ngive birth to new conceptions.\n\nIn its original and proper sense the name _Heros_ never indicated an\nindependent and self-sufficient spirit. _Archegetes_, \"leader\" or\n\"originator\", is his real and distinctive title. The _Heros_ stands\nat the beginning of a series, taking its origin {528} from him, of\nmortal men for whom he is the leader and \"ancestor\". The genuine\nHeroes are the ancestors, whether real or imaginary, of a family or\na house; in the \"Heroes\", after whom they wish to be called, the\nmembers of a society, a clan, or even a whole race honour the\n_archegetai_ of those groups. They are always men of power and\ninfluence, prominent and distinguished from other men, who are\nregarded as having thus entered into the life of Heroes after their\ndeath. And even in later times the Heroes of a more recent\nelevation, though they may no longer be the leaders of a train of\ndescendants taking their origin from them, are yet regarded as\ndistinguished from the people who worship them by their peculiar\nvirtue and dignity. To become a _Heros_ after death was a privilege\nreserved for a few great and uncommon personalities who even in\ntheir lifetime were not as other men were.\n\nThe companies of these old and specially chosen Heroes did not\nsuffer the fate of forgetfulness which would have been their second\nand real death. The love of country and city, undying among the\nGreeks, attached itself in reverent memory to the illuminated\nspirits of the past who had once protected and defended their native\nland. When Messene was refounded in the fourth century the Heroes of\nthe country were solemnly called upon to become inhabitants of the\ncity as they had been before--more particularly Aristomenes, the\nnever-forgotten champion of Messenian freedom.[33\\15] Even at\nLeuctra he had appeared in the mel\u00e9e of the fight, doing battle for\nthe Thebans.[34\\15] Before the battle, Epameinondas had secured the\nfavour of the Heroines of the place, the daughters of Skedasos, by\nmeans of prayer and sacrifice.[35\\15] These were events of the last\nheroic age of Greek history, but the cult and memory of the local\nHeroes of the Greek countries survived into a much later age.\nLeonidas was worshipped by the people of Sparta for many\ncenturies,[36\\15] and the champions of the Persian Wars, the\nsaviours of Hellas, were worshipped by their remote\ndescendants.[37\\15] Even in imperial times the inhabitants of the\nisland of Kos still worshipped those who had fallen to secure their\nfreedom centuries before.[38\\15] Such individual cases allow us to\nsee what was the general rule: the memory and cult of a Hero lived\non as long as the community remained in existence whose duty it was\nto maintain his worship. Even those Heroes--a class by\nthemselves--who have secured their immortality through their fame in\nancient poetry[39\\15] still retained their cult undiminished. The\nheroic {529} figure of Hektor still preserved life and reality for\nhis worshippers in the Troad or at Thebes.[40\\15] Even in the third\ncentury of our era the district of Troy and the neighbouring coasts\nof Europe still kept fresh the memory and the cult of the Heroes of\nEpic renown.[41\\15] Of Achilles, who had a special fate, we must\nspeak in another connexion.[42\\15]\n\nNor did less splendid figures vanish from the memory of their\nnarrower associations of worshippers. Autolykos the founder of\nSinope retained his cult even in the time of Lucullus.[43\\15] At a\nquite late period the relics of the specially popular Heroes of the\nPan-Hellenic games were still the subject of many\nsuperstitions[44\\15] that bear witness to their continued influence.\nHeroes to whom healing powers were ascribed continued to do works of\nhealing and to be worshipped, and their number was even\nextended.[45\\15] Mere local spirits, whose very names had been\nforgotten, nevertheless lost none of the honour that came to them\nfrom their beneficent miracles; such were, for instance, that\nPhilopregmon of Poteideia who was celebrated by a late poet,[46\\15]\nor the Hero Euodos of Apollinopolis in Egypt who dispensed \"good\njourney\" to those who honoured him in passing by his\nmonument.[47\\15]\n\nBut all Heroes were not yet reduced to such casual salutations from\noccasional passers-by. In many places[48\\15] the regular festivals\nand sacrifices to Heroes still survived--even human sacrifice was\nstill sometimes made to spirits who were held capable of special\nexhibitions of power.[49\\15] In a few cases the festivals of Heroes\nare the chief feasts in the annual calendar of a city.[50\\15] The\nnames of Heroes quite as much as of Gods were used in\noath-taking[51\\15] at treaties made by Greek cities so long as they\nretained their independence. Foundations were dedicated to the\nhonour of Gods and Heroes together.[52\\15] Cult associations called\nthemselves after the Heroes they met to worship.[53\\15] Special\npriests of certain Heroes were regularly appointed.[54\\15] Even in\nthe second century, in his book of travels, Pausanias is able to\ninform us of not a few Heroes whose cult, as he distinctly says, had\ngone on unbroken in their cities down to his own day.[55\\15] The\nannual festival of the Heroes who had fallen at Plataea was still\ncelebrated with the greatest pomp in the time of Plutarch, who\ndescribes every detail of its archaic ceremonial.[56\\15] And at\nSikyon, at the same time, the Heroic festival of Aratos, the founder\nof the Ach\u00e6an League, was still celebrated, though here the\ncenturies had robbed the occasion of many of its former\nglories.[57\\15] {530}\n\nIn all such ceremonies it was to a single and definite\nspirit-personality that the devotion of men was offered. Each of\nthem received the cult that was due to him by the terms of some\nold-established and sanctified foundation. Nothing was further from\nmen's minds than the loose and vague conception, expressed sometimes\nby ancient writers, that _all_ brave men of the past or all\noutstanding individuals of whatever time are to be regarded\nforthwith as Heroes.[58\\15] It was still clearly and consciously\nfelt that elevation to the rank of Hero was not a privilege that\nbelonged as a matter of course to any particular class of mankind,\nbut, wherever it occurred, was essentially a ratification of quite\nexceptional worth and influence displayed already in the lifetime of\nthe Hero. Following this conception even the Hellenistic age added\nto the number of the Heroes by drawing upon the great men of the\npresent. A little earlier Pelopidas and Timoleon had been honoured\nin this way, and now the figures of Leosthenes, Kleomenes, and\nPhilopoimen were raised to heroic glory.[59\\15] Even Aratos, the\nvery incarnation of the sobriety of a too matter-of-fact age, at the\nend of a life devoted with ardour but without enduring success to\nthe service of his country, was supposed by his countrymen to have\npassed over in a mysterious manner into the realm of heroic\nsemi-divinity.[60\\15]\n\nAs in these cases whole populations honoured individuals so also did\nnarrower and much humbler associations, even in this rationalist\nage, elevate their helpers and protectors to the rank of Hero and\nhonour them as such. The slaves of Kos thus honoured their former\ncomrade and leader Drimakos;[61\\15] at another place there was a\nHero who protected all refugees who took shelter with him;[62\\15] at\nEphesos there was a Hero who had been a simple shepherd.[63\\15] At\nthe time of Augustus, a benefactor of his city, Athenodoros, the\nphilosopher, had been made a Hero by grateful Tarsians after his\ndeath.[64\\15] It sometimes happens that a Hero of the distant past\nmay find himself confused with a descendant of the same name whom\nhis contemporaries put in the place of his own ancestor and worship\nin his stead.[65\\15]\n\nSo little were men grown out of the ideas centred round the cult of\nHeroes that, accustomed to the ever-increasing adoration of the\n\"Mightier and Better\", every age was eager to add to their number\nfrom the men of the present. They did not always wait for the death\nof the individual so honoured before beginning to address him as\n_Heros_; even in his lifetime he must enjoy a foretaste of the\nhonour that was destined {531} to be his after his departure from\nthis life. Thus, Lysander was saluted as a Hero after his victory by\nthe Greeks whom he had liberated from the despotism of Athens; and\nin the Hellenistic age many a fortunate army commander or mighty\nking received the same honour. Of the Romans Flamininus the friend\nof the Greeks was the first to receive it.[66\\15] This\nmisapplication of the cult of Heroes to the living then became still\nfurther extended.[67\\15] It may be that sometimes it was a real\nfeeling of unusual merit that fired the impulsive temperament of the\nGreeks; but in the end the custom became almost a meaningless\nconvention; even private individuals were thus called Hero in their\nlifetime[68\\15] and heroic honours--even the foundation of annual\nathletic games--were granted to living persons almost\nindiscriminately.[69\\15] And at last when it was necessary to honour\nan individual whom the love and passionate regret of a monarch\nelevated to the rank of Hero after his death then, indeed, the age\ncould hardly do enough in the hyperbole of pomp and ceremony. The\nfuneral honours paid to the dead Hephaistion are an extravagant\nexample of this.[70\\15]\n\nIf in such cases the limits between the worship of a Hero and the\nadoration of a god seemed almost to have disappeared, we still have\nevidence of individual cases in which the survivors, without\nactually naming them Heroes, offer to their much-loved dead a\nmemorial cult that hardly falls short of full heroic honours.[71\\15]\nNor is it only in such cases as these that we perceive the signs of\na tendency to exalt the Cult of Souls everywhere and to approximate\nit to the worship of ancestors in the ancient Cult of Heroes. It\nemerges clearly enough, for all the brevity of their language, from\nthe multitude of epitaphic inscriptions in which members of simple\ncitizen families are addressed with the title of _Heros_. At any\nrate, it betokens an increase in the importance and dignity of the\ndead when a tombstone expressly announces that an individual citizen\nhas been \"heroized\" by the city after his death. And this is what\nnot infrequently happened--early in Thera and later on in many other\nplaces as well.[72\\15] The same conclusion must be drawn when we\nhear of associations declaring a dead member to be a _Heros_;[73\\15]\nor when a society recognizes a dead man as _Heros_ on the formal\nmotion of an individual.[74\\15] Families, too, become accustomed to\ngiving the name to those of their number that have died before the\nrest; and a son will thus speak of his father, parents of a son, and\na wife of her husband--either informally or by a formal declaration\nnaming {532} the dead one as _Heros_.[75\\15] A higher and mightier\nform of existence after death must be imagined for the departed when\nhe is thus distinguished so explicitly from the ordinary multitude\nof the dead--still more so in those cases when the dead man,\nelevated to a mystic communion with higher forms of life, loses his\nown name and receives in exchange that of a Hero of long-standing\nhonour, or even that of a God.[76\\15]\n\nIn every case that is known to us, the \"heroizing\" of a dead person\nby the city or a society or the family is carried out entirely on\nthe independent authority of those bodies. The Delphic Oracle,\nwithout whose deciding voice it was hardly possible in early times\nfor the company of the elect to receive any addition,[77\\15] was, in\nthese days when the prestige of the oracle had sunk almost to\nnothing, no longer applied to for its sanction. The consequence was\nhardly avoidable that the licence thus accorded to corporations and\nfamilies should widen still further the bounds of the Heroes'\nkingdom. In the end, these boundaries broke down entirely. There\nwere cities and countries where it became the custom to apply the\ntitle of \"Hero\" as an epithet of honour belonging to all the dead\nwithout distinction. It seems that this extension of \"heroizing\" to\nall the dead first became common in Boeotia,[78\\15] though here it\nwas not quite universal--Thespiai was an exception.[79\\15]\nThessalian grave-inscriptions give the fullest evidence for the\nheroizing of the dead of every age and description. But the custom\nspread to every country populated by Greeks;[80\\15] only Athens is\nless unrestrained[81\\15] in the bestowal of the title of Hero upon\nthe dead--a title which retained no more of the old and essential\nmeaning of the word (which perhaps survived longest in Athens) than\nto say that the dead were really now dead.[82\\15]\n\nIn spite of such indiscriminate application the name \"Hero\" still\ncontinued to be something of a title of honour. An honour, indeed,\nthat was thus accorded to everyone without distinction was in danger\nof becoming the reverse of an honour. But isolated phrases of a\nnaive and popular character make it clear that a difference was\nstill felt to exist between the \"Hero\" and those who were not\nhonoured with this distinguishing epithet.[83\\15] When the name of\nHero was thus applied to all the dead, not in exceptional cases but\nas a rule, the glory and distinction of which the idea of the \"Hero\"\nwas thus deprived must have fallen in some measure upon the\nindividual dead, if they {533} and the Heroes could meet on common\nground. Thus, even the dissipation of the heroic honour and its\nindiscriminate application to all the dead is in reality but another\nindication of the fact that even in the decline of the ancient world\nthe power and dignity of the departed soul had not declined too, but\nhad, on the contrary, grown greater.\n\n\u00a7 3\n\nThe souls of the departed show their power and the fact that they\nare still alive more particularly in the effect that they have on\nthis life and on the living. For the purposes of the Cult of Souls\nthey are regarded as confined to the region of the inhabited earth;\nthey continue in the grave or near it, for a time or permanently,\nand can therefore be reached by the offerings or the prayers of\ntheir living relatives. There can be no doubt that at this time men\nstill believed, as they had done since the earliest times, in a\nkindly relationship between the family and its departed members, an\nexchange in which offerings were made at the grave by the living and\nblessings vouchsafed by the Unseen. It is true, however, that we\nonly have imperfect records of such calm and comfortable family\nbelief in the survival of the departed and of the part they continue\nto play in the daily life of their descendants.\n\nBut there is a more sinister variety of intercourse with the souls\nor spirits of the dead. They sometimes appear unsought to the\nliving; they can be compelled by the force of magic to use their\npowers in the service of the living. Both these possibilities apply\nmore particularly to those unquiet souls whom fate or their own\nhands have deprived of life violently and before their time; to\nthose who have not been consigned to the peace of the grave by\nceremonious burial.[84\\15] The enlightened of the time do indeed\nrefuse to believe in ghosts and haunting spirits of the dead that\nwander without rest about the place of their tragic fate, and make\ntheir presence disagreeably felt by the living.[85\\15] But the\npopulace, even in such enlightened days, gave the fullest credence\nto stories in which the existence of a spirit-world seemed to reveal\nits sinister reality, trespassing at times upon the world of the\nliving. Regular folk-tales of spectral apparitions, vagrant ghosts\nof unfortunate souls, vampire-like spirits of the grave,[86\\15] are\npreserved to us in some numbers--chiefly such as appealed to a\nperverted philosophy, the _insaniens sapientia_ of an outworn age,\nas seeming to confirm its fancies of an invisible world between\nheaven and earth. In Lucian's _Lover of Lies_ the grey-beard {534}\nphilosophers entertain each other in portentous seriousness with\nsuch communications from the spirit world.[87\\15] Plutarch himself\nis quite seriously convinced of the reality of some ghostly\nappearances.[88\\15] Philosophy, which at this time was going back to\nPlato, found in its system of demonology a means of making such old\nwives' tales intelligible and credible to itself.\n\nFinally, the time arrives when the violent and arbitrary\ninterference with the unseen world--sorcery and\nspirit-raising--becomes a part of orthodox philosophy. The popular\nimagination of the Greeks did not have to wait for instruction from\ntheir barbarian neighbours, who had reduced the irrational to a\nsystem, before they could believe in the summoning of spirits from\nthe deep. Magic in this sense was of extreme antiquity in\nGreece.[89\\15] But in the fusion and intermixture of Greeks with\nbarbarians which marked the Hellenistic age similar and cognate\nsuperstitions from all the corners of the earth met together and\nacquired strength from their union. It was foreign sources rather\nthan Greek which chiefly contributed to swell the turbid and noxious\nstream of sorceries and spirit-raisings, the practical application\nof an irrational theory of the nature and being of the soul in\nseparation from the body. The lofty heaven of the old Greek gods was\nbeginning to grow dim before the troubled vision of this later age;\nmore and more their place was taken by a mob of idols and an obscure\nrabble of lesser devils. In this chaotic medley of Greek and\nbarbarian demonology the companies of unquiet souls and ghosts of\nthe dead easily found a place. The ghost was no longer an alien when\nthe Gods themselves had become ghostly. When both Gods and spirits\nhave to answer to the spells of the sorcerer the souls of the dead\nare seldom left in peace.[90\\15] We possess some relics of the art\nof spirit-raising in the Gr\u00e6co-Egyptian magic books; and we can now\nsee with our eyes specimens which illustrate the practical outcome\nof this delusion in the magic charms and exorcisms that were\nscratched on tablets of lead or gold and placed in the graves--as\nthe natural abode of the spirits which were to be compelled--where\nthey have been found in considerable quantities in modern times.\nAmong the sinister influences that are thus conjured to do the work\nof vengeance, punishment, or destruction upon the conjurer's enemy,\nthe unquiet souls of the dead are also regularly mentioned. To them\nis attributed the power and the will to intervene with malevolence\nand obstruction in the life of men, no less than to the other\nspiritual {535} powers of heaven and hell in company with whom they\nare summoned.[91\\15]\n\n\u00a7 4\n\nThe Cult of Souls for all its expansion gave no assistance to the\npicturing of what might be the condition of the departed souls\nindependently of their connexion with the living. Those who troubled\nthemselves about such matters and sought further information were\nobliged to have recourse, if not to the systems of theologians and\nphilosophers, then to the imaginative accounts and pictures of\nancient poetry and legend.\n\nThe idea of a distant realm of the souls into which the strengthless\nshadows of those who had departed this life disappeared had not lost\nits hold on the popular imagination even of these later\nages--difficult as it might be to reconcile[92\\15] such an idea with\nthe pre-suppositions of cultus with its customary worship and\nsustenance of the souls confined within the grave. The belief in a\ndistant kingdom of the dead could not but continue to be current\namong men for whom the Homeric poems remained the earliest manual\nand school-book in the hands of youth and the source of instruction\nand entertainment to every age. The passionate indignation with\nwhich philosophers of the Stoic as well as the Epicurean faith\nattacked the beliefs resting on the teaching of Homer cannot be\nexplained except by supposing that Homer and his picture had\nremained a guiding force with the masses who were uninstructed in\nphilosophy. And, in fact, ancient writers use language which shows\nthat the ancient conception of Hades was by no means discarded but\non the contrary was still vigorously alive among the\npopulace.[93\\15]\n\nAs to what might go on down below and the general appearance of the\nunderworld--these were questions that the invention of theological\nand semi-philosophic fancy, each according to its special lights and\npreconceptions, strove to answer in eager competition.[94\\15] But\nsuch attempts to picture the condition of things in the kingdom of\nthe souls--attempts which reached their highest point in the\nelaborate chiaroscuro of Vergil's Hades--remained the exercises of\ningenious fancy and rarely pretended to be anything else. A distinct\nand authoritative popular system of belief on these points was\nscarcely possible when the orthodox religion of the state formally\nand dogmatically rejected everything of the kind.\n\nIt would, indeed, have been more natural if in connexion with the\nidea of the congregation of souls enclosed in the {536} kingdom of\nthe underworld deities a belief in a compensatory justice to be\nfound in this after-life of the dead, had grown up and obtained\npopular currency. The oppressed and needy who feel themselves\ndeprived of their share in this world's goods think only too easily\nthat somewhere there must be a place where they too will some day\nenjoy the fruits that others alone are allowed to pluck upon\nearth--and place that \"somewhere\" beyond the boundaries of this\nworld and of reality. Pious belief in the gods expects to obtain the\nprize, so often denied upon earth, in a realm of the spirit. If\nindeed such a conviction of a compensatory justice to\ncome[95\\15]--reward of the virtuous and punishment of the wicked in\na hereafter--was really more widely and seriously held in this age\nthan it had been before,[96\\15] then the cult of the underworld\ndeities as it was practised in the mysteries of the states and the\nvarious religious societies must have contributed in a large degree\nto bring this about. And contrariwise, the belief that the punishing\nand rewarding omnipotence of the gods would be felt in a hereafter\nmust have brought an unbroken stream of adherents to those mysteries\nwhich in fact offered their help and mediation in the life to come.\nThose only could imagine that they had detailed knowledge of the\nenigmas that lie beyond the reach of all experience, who could\nsurrender themselves entirely to the dogmatic teaching of a closed\nsect. We may in fact take leave to doubt whether the gruesome\npictures of a place of torment in Hades, with its undying punishment\nin devouring flames, and the similar fancies that later authors\nsometimes express, were in reality anything more than the private\nimaginations with which exclusive and superstitious conventicles\nsought to terrorize their members.[97\\15] The charming pictures of a\n\"Land of Arrival\" to which death sends the much-tried children of\nmen, may have been more widely accepted. Homer, the universal\ninstructor, had stamped them upon men's memories. For the poet the\nElysian plain had been a place situated upon the surface of the\nearth to which the occasional favour of the gods was able to\ntranslate a few of their dearest favourites, that they might there\nenjoy, without seeing death, unending bliss.[98\\15] In imitation of\nthe Homeric fancy, the poetry of the following ages had imagined the\ntranslation of many other Heroes and heroic women of the legendary\npast to a secret life of bliss in Elysium or in the Islands of the\nBlest.[99\\15] Later fancy, which saw in Elysium the Land of Promise\nto which all men who had lived in a manner pleasing to the gods\n{537} would be taken after their death,[100\\15] now placed its\nElysium or Islands of the Blest in the interior of the earth beyond\nthe reach of all save disembodied souls. In later times this became\nthe currently accepted view, but the subject remained undefined and\nsubject to variation. Men must still, in fact, have imagined The\nIsles of the Blest, the abode of privileged spirits, to be situated\nupon the surface of the earth (though, indeed, far away beyond the\nlimits of the discovered countries of the globe, when attempts could\nbe made to find the way there and to bring back news to the living.\nThe attempt attributed to Sertorius was only the most famous of such\nvoyages of discovery.[101\\15] Why, indeed, should these magic Isles\nremain for ever undiscovered upon the borders of the inhabited world\nthat yet offered so wide a field for discovery, when everybody knew\nof the island in the Black Sea, often visited by living men, where\nAchilles, the supreme example of miraculous translation, lived for\never in perpetual enjoyment of his youth? For centuries the island\nof Leuk\u00ea, the separate Elysium of Achilles and a few select among\nthe Heroes, was visited and reverenced with religious awe.[102\\15]\nHere men thought they could discern in immediate perception, and in\nactual physical contact, something of the mysterious existence of\nblessed spirits. The belief in the possibility of miraculous\ntranslation to an eternity of unbroken union of body and soul, thus\npalpably and visibly substantiated, could not completely die even in\nthis prosaic age. The educated did indeed find this conception so\nstrange and unintelligible that when they come to speak of\ntranslation legends of the past they profess themselves unable to\nsay what exactly the ancients had supposed to occur when such\nmiracles took place.[103\\15] But the populace, which finds nothing\neasier to believe in than the impossible, once more naively accepted\nthe miracle. Did not the examples of Amphiaraos and Trophonios\nplainly establish the fact of translation to underground retreats?\nAnd to them as being still alive in their caves beneath the earth a\ncult was offered until an advanced period.[104\\15] The translation\nof beautiful youths to everlasting life in the kingdom of the nymphs\nand spirits was the subject of many folk-tales.[105\\15] Even in\ncontemporary life the miracle of translation seemed not altogether\nimpossible.[106\\15] When the kings and queens of the Macedonian\nempire of the East began to receive divine honours in imitation of\nthe great Alexander himself, it was not long before men ventured to\naffirm that at the end of his earthly existence the Divine Ruler\neverywhere {538} does not die but is merely \"carried away\" by the\ngods and still lives on.[107\\15] It is the peculiar property of\ndivinity, as Plato clearly expresses it,[108\\15] to live for ever in\nthe indivisible unity of body and soul. A court-bred theology could\nthe more easily make such demands upon the belief of subject peoples\nin the Semitic East, and possibly in Egypt too, because\nnative[109\\15] legends had already told of the translation to\nimmortal life of individual men dear to the gods and akin to the\ngods in nature; just as similar stories became common in Italian\nlegends too,[110\\15] though possibly only under the influence of\nGreek models. Indeed, quite apart from obsequious courtliness,\nGreeks and half-Greeks were quite capable of entertaining the\nidea[111\\15] that the darlings of their fancy, such as Alexander the\nGreat, had not suffered death but had been translated alive to the\nrealm of imperishable physical existence. This is shown clearly\nenough by the success which attended the appearance, in Moesia at\nthe beginning of the third century A.D., of another Alexander. This\nimposter travelled from land to land with a great train of\nBacchants, and everywhere men believed in his identity with the\ngreat monarch.[112\\15] A little earlier they had believed with equal\ncredulity in the reappearance upon earth of the Emperor\nNero,[113\\15] who, it was thought, had not died but had merely\ndisappeared. When Antinous, the beautiful youth beloved by the\nEmperor Hadrian, sank and disappeared in his watery grave he was at\nonce regarded as a god who had, in fact, not died but had been\ntranslated.[114\\15] The miraculous translation of Apollonios of\nTyana is reported with the utmost seriousness;[115\\15] like the\nother marvels and mysteries in the strange and enigmatic existence\nof this prophetic figure, it found believers enough.[116\\15]\n\nBut such unbroken continuance of the united life of body and soul,\nbegun upon earth and carried on in a mysterious abode of bliss (the\noldest form taken by the idea of human immortality in the Greek\nmind), was never attributed to more than a few specially favoured\nand specially gifted individuals. An immortality of the human soul\nas such, by virtue of its nature and composition--as the\nimperishable force of divinity in the mortal body--never became a\nreal part of the belief of the Greek populace. When approximations\nto such a belief do occasionally find expression in popular modes of\nthought, it is because a fragment of theology or of the universally\npopular philosophy has penetrated to the lower strata of the\nuninstructed populace. Theology and philosophy remained the sole\ntrue repositories of the belief in the {539} immortality of the\nsoul. In the meeting together and conjunction of Greek and foreign\nideas in the Hellenized Orient it was not Greek popular tradition\nbut solely the influence of Greek philosophy, that, finding favour\neven outside the limits of Greek nationality, communicated to\nforeign nations the arresting concept of the divine, imperishable\nvitality of the human soul--upon the impressionable Jewish people,\nat least, it had the profoundest and most deeply penetrating\ninfluence.[117\\15]\n\n\u00a7 5\n\nAll the various modes of conceiving the life enjoyed by the soul\nafter the death of the body, as they had been explored, modified,\nand developed in the course of centuries, were admitted on an equal\nfooting to the consciousness of the Greeks in this late period of\ntheir maturity. No formulated body of religious doctrine had by a\nprocess of exclusion and definition given the victory to any one\nconception at the expense of the others. But where so much was\npermitted and so little proscribed it is still possible to ask how\nthese various formulations of belief, expectation, and hope stood in\nrelation to each other. Were any more popular and more readily\nreceived than others? To answer this question it is natural to\nsuppose that we have only to turn to the numerous inscriptions from\nthe gravestones of the people. Here, especially in these later\ntimes, individuals give unhampered expression to their own feelings\nand thus reveal the extent and character of popular belief. But\ninformation derived from this source must be carefully scrutinized\nif it is not to lead to misconception.\n\nIf we pass in imagination through the long rows of streets in which\nthe Greeks placed the memorials of their dead, and read the\ninscriptions on the tombstones--they now form part of the\naccumulated treasures of Greek Epigraphy--the first thing that must\narrest our attention is the complete silence maintained by the\nenormous majority of these inscriptions with regard to any\nhope--however formulated--or any expectation of a life of the soul\nafter death. They content themselves with recording the name of the\ndead, adding only the name of the father and (in the case of a\nforeigner) the country of the deceased. At the most, the custom of\nsome localities may add a \"Farewell\". Such stubborn silence cannot\nbe satisfactorily explained simply on the grounds of an economy\npractised by the surviving relatives {540} of the deceased (though\nin some cases a municipal regulation against wordy inscriptions may\nhave given countenance to such economies).[118\\15] The very silence\nof this people that was never at a loss for words to express its\nmeaning whether in verse or in prose, is in itself expressive. Where\nso little need was felt to give utterance to hopes of comfort, such\nhopes cannot have been of very vital consequence or matters of much\nassurance. Men rescued from forgetfulness only what had been the\nexclusive property of the individual--his name; the appellation\nwhich had distinguished him from all others in his lifetime and has\nnow become the barest and emptiest envelope of the once living\npersonality. Inscriptions in which precise hopes of a future life\nare expressed form a very small proportion of the great mass of\nepitaphic records. And of these very few again are in prose. Not as\nsimple records of plain and authentic fact do such provisions and\nannouncements of a blessed and hoped-for futurity present\nthemselves. They need the artistic pomp and circumstance with which\npoetic fancy and extravagant affection clothe their inspired\nvoyagings beyond the region of cold and matter of fact reality. This\nis certainly significant. Even among the poetic epitaphs the\nmajority allude only to the life which the deceased has now done\nwith, looking back upon the circumstances of his life--his fortunes\nand activities and character; giving expression, often with the most\nconvincing sincerity, to the regret and dependence of the survivors;\nfixing attention exclusively upon things of this world. Wherever, at\nlast, allusion is made to a future life, the tendency is rather to\nlet fancy roam far beyond the limits of experience and sober\nreflexion to a vague and visionary land of promise. Such lofty\naspirations needed more than any others the elevated language of\nverse. But we should run the risk of falling into grave error if we\nconcluded from the preponderance of such aspirations among the\nmetrical epitaphs that these were the normal views of the city folk\nwho were their contemporaries.\n\nThe simple and archaic conception which perpetuates the old Homeric\nattitude and views without a complaint or a regret the disappearance\nof the soul of the departed into Erebos, is of the rarest occurrence\namong these sepulchral verses.[119\\15] More commonly we have the\nprayer that the departed may \"rest in peace\", expressed in the\ntraditional formula[120\\15]--a formula that really refers to the\ndead man lying in his grave but also contains a further allusion to\nthe \"soul\" that has departed to Hades.[121\\15] The idea is not yet\ndead {541} that there is a realm of the souls which receives the\ndeparted--Hades, the world ruled over by the Underworld deities, the\n\"Chamber\" of Persephone, the seat of primeval Night.[122\\15] Here a\nstate of semi-conscious existence is conceived to prevail, under the\nempire of \"Forgetfulness\", drinking of which[123\\15] the\nconsciousness of the soul is darkened. Here \"the majority\"[124\\15]\nare assembled, and the dead man is visited by the reassuring thought\nthat he may greet once more the souls of those who have gone before\nhim.[125\\15]\n\nBut sterner conceptions also occur. There is occasional reference to\na judgment[126\\15] that separates the souls in the world below,\ndividing them into two and sometimes three[127\\15] classes in\naccordance with the deserts which they have earned on earth. There\nis no lingering over the pains of the damned,[128\\15] in the\ndescription of which the theological imagination had indulged so\nfrequently. A more simple-minded fancy did not need such pharisaical\nsatisfaction in the misfortunes of sinners in order to heighten its\nown assurance of superiority. There is no trace of a sentiment of\npenitence and terror indulged in for its own sake. The soul hopes to\ncome by its rights;[129\\15] to reach the \"Blessed\", to arrive at the\nIsles or the Island of the Blest--to Elysium, the abode of Heroes\nand demi-gods.[130\\15] Such hopes are very commonly expressed, but\nas a rule only in a brief phrase of confidence and hope. We rarely\nmeet with any elaborate or alluring picture of the abode of the\nblessed.[131\\15] That abode is generally placed within the limits of\nthe underworld kingdom of the souls,[132\\15] and such anticipations,\nwhen particularized, refer commonly to a \"Place of the Good\", which\nin various forms is represented as the hoped-for dwelling-place of\nfuture life.[133\\15]\n\nBut we also meet with the view that the company of the good is\nentirely removed from the region of underworld darkness.[134\\15] For\nmany individuals the hope is expressed or the certainty announced\nthat after death they will have their dwelling in the sky--in the\nshining _Aether_, among the stars. This belief in the elevation of\nthe disembodied soul to the regions above the earth is so frequently\nrepeated in various forms in this late period that we must suppose\nthat among those who entertained precise conceptions of the things\nof the next world this was the most popular and widely held\nconviction.[135\\15] This belief that the soul rises to the\nneighbourhood and even the community of the heavenly deities[136\\15]\nhas its origin both in religious aspiration and in philosophy. Its\nroots, indeed, stretch back to a much {542} earlier period[137\\15]\nand we may suppose that even in these later days it was derived from\nand very largely supported by the popular conception, disseminated\nby Stoic writers, of a living \"breath\", which composes the human\nsoul, and its effort upwards to the heavenly regions.[138\\15]\n\nBut such language is in many cases plainly nothing more than a\nconventional formula which has already lost all vital significance;\nit rarely goes further than the expression of a hope that the soul\nwill mount upwards to the heavenly heights. Very occasionally, in\nthe adjective \"immortal\"[139\\15] applied to the soul (which only\nsleeps in death),[140\\15] we may detect the influence of mixed\nphilosophical and theological ideas. We soon come to an end of the\ninscriptions which give expression to the doctrines of theology and\nof theologically minded philosophy as to the divine nature of the\nsoul, its brief pilgrimage through earthly life and destined return\nto its true home in a divine incorporeal existence.[141\\15] There is\nno certain mention of a belief in the transmigration of\nsouls.[142\\15] Of the specifically Platonic doctrine or its\ninfluence there is scarcely a trace.[143\\15]\n\nAnother type of belief derives its strength not from the teachings\nof philosophers but from the usage and popular practice of religion.\nThis is the belief of those who hope to be conducted after death to\na blessed life by the special care of a god, presumably the god to\nwhich in their life-time they have offered particular devotion. Such\na god will lead them by the hand, they hope, and conduct them into\nthe land of bliss and purity. One who has thus \"obtained a god as\nhis leader\"[144\\15] may face the future with equanimity. Together\nwith Hermes the \"messenger of Persephoneia\",[145\\15] Persephone\nherself is most frequently mentioned among these conducting\ndeities.[146\\15] Perhaps in this we may see a reminiscence of the\nhopes awakened and cherished in the Eleusinian and other related\nmysteries[147\\15]--hopes otherwise expressed on these tombstones\nwith striking rarity. On the epitaph--certainly a late\ncomposition--of a Hierophant of Eleusis who \"goes to the Immortals\",\nthe dead man is made to commend, as a mystery revealed by the gods,\nthe ancient opinion illustrated by stories like that of Kleobis and\nBiton[148\\15] \"that death not only brings no evil to mortals, but is\nrather a blessing\".[149\\15] A gloomy philosophy has in these latter\ndays of the old religion and worship of the gods taken hold of the\nmysteries themselves and given them an attitude of hostility to\nhuman life that was not originally theirs.[150\\15] We are reminded\nof the mysteries again when we find prayers {543} or promises that\nthe dead shall not drink of the water of forgetfulness in the realm\nof the souls, but shall be given the \"cold water\" to drink by the\nGod of the lower world; that he shall be refreshed at the spring of\nMnemosyne, the bath of immortality, and so preserve intact his\nmemory and consciousness, the necessary conditions of full and\nblessed life.[151\\15] Here there appears to be a reference to the\npromises made by particular secret cults in which the departed has\nspecially recommended himself to the powers of life and death. This\nmust plainly be the case when, instead of the Greek Aidoneus, there\nis mention of Osiris, the Egyptian Lord of Souls. \"May Osiris give\nyou the cold water\" is a common prayer expressed in a formula that\nis of frequent and significant occurrence in late epitaphs.[152\\15]\nOf the numerous secret cults of these later times that promised a\nblessed immortality to their adherents, there is but infrequent\nmention in the grave-inscriptions: occasionally at the most there is\nan allusion to the special favour, reaching even beyond the grave,\nwhich belongs to the initiated in the mysteries of Mithras.[153\\15]\n\nNo doubtful promises, but real and practical experience forms the\nbasis of the belief of those to whom the dead has appeared visibly\nin a dream to assure them that his \"soul\" has not been annihilated\nby death.[154\\15] The oldest proof of the continued existence of the\nsoul remains in force the longest. The pupil hopes for something\nhigher from the master whom death has taken away from his sight: he\nprays to him that, as he had once in life, so he will now continue\nto stand by his side, assisting him in the pursuance of his\nprofession as a physician--\"Thou canst, for now thou hast a more\ndivine part in life.\"[155\\15]\n\nExpectations of an energetic after-life of the departed soul,\nexpressing themselves in many forms, are widely current; but such\nexpectations never achieve a unified, dogmatic form. Nor was anyone\nforbidden to cherish for himself and inscribe upon his grave-stone,\nunorthodox opinions of every kind--even though they should point to\nthe very opposite of such expectations.[156\\15]\n\nA dubious \"If\" precedes on many epitaphs the anticipation of a\nconscious life of the dead in full possession of the senses, or a\nreward of the dead in accordance with their deserts: \"if anything\nyet remains below\". Such phrases are of very frequent\noccurrence.[157\\15] Indeed the doubt itself is set aside when it is\ndistinctly asserted that after death nothing of the man remains\nalive. All that men say of Hades and its terrors or its consolations\nis the fabled invention of poets; darkness {544} and nothingness is\nall that awaits us below.[158\\15] The dead turns to ashes or to\nearth;[159\\15] the elements out of which he was created take back\nwhat is their own.[160\\15] Life is only lent to man and in death he\nrestores the loan again.[161\\15] In death he pays tribute to\nnature.[162\\15] The bitter outcry of the survivors against death,\nthe savage beast of prey, loveless and pitiless, that has snatched\naway their dearest from their side, shows small hope of the\npreservation of the vanished life.[163\\15] Grief and complaint, say\nothers, are vain both for the dead and for the living; no man\nreturns; the parting effected by death is for ever.[164\\15] Only\nsubmission is left.[165\\15] \"Take comfort, child, no man is\nimmortal\"--so runs the conventional phrase current among the\npopulace and inscribed by many upon the graves of their vanished\ndead.[166\\15] \"Once I was not, then I was, and now I am no more:\nwhat more is there to be said?\"--so speaks the dead from more than\none gravestone, addressing the living who is soon to suffer the same\nfate.[167\\15] \"Live,\" he cries to the living, \"for there is nothing\nsweeter granted to us mortals than this life in the\ndaylight.\"[168\\15] A last thought reverts once more to the life that\nhas been left behind on earth. The body dies, personality vanishes,\nnothing is left alive on earth but the memory of the deeds and\nvirtue of the departed.[169\\15] But there is a continuance in the\nlife of others, more vital than in the empty sound of fame, achieved\nby him who leaves behind him on earth children and children's\nchildren. There are many who, in these later ages too, are content,\nin the true spirit of antiquity, with this blessing and desire no\nother consolation for their own annihilation.[170\\15]\n\n\u00a7 6\n\nBut such reassertions of the antique temper were of rarer and rarer\noccurrence. The ancient world to which it had given such toughness\nand energy of purpose was on its death-bed. With the end of the\nthird and the beginning of the fourth century it enters upon its\nlast agony; a general failure of nerve had long threatened the\nloosely bound masses that shared in the Gr\u00e6co-Roman civilization. In\nthe general atrophy that beset its old age the vigorous blood of the\ngenuine and **unadulterated Greek and Roman stocks was flowing but\nfeebly. Now the universal process of decay sets in irresistibly. It\nwas its own inherent weakness that made the attacks of outside\nforces so ominous to the old world. In the West the old order\nvanished more swiftly and submitted more {545} completely to the new\nforces, than in the Hellenized East. It was not that the old\ncivilization was any less rotten in the East than in the West. The\nenfeebled hand and the failing mind betray themselves in every\nutterance--in the last spasms of vital energy that inspired the art\nand literature of moribund Greece. The impoverishment of the vital\nforces out of which Greece had once brought forth the flower of its\nspecial and characteristic spirit makes itself felt in the altered\nrelation of the individual to the whole, and of the totality of\nvisible life to the shadowy powers of the unseen world.\nIndividualism has had its day. No longer is the emancipation of the\nindividual the object of man's endeavour; no longer is he required\nto arm himself against all that is not himself, that is outside the\nregion of his free will and choice. He is not strong enough, and\nshould not feel himself strong enough, to trust to the\nself-conscious strength of his own intelligence. Authority--an\nauthority that is the same for all--must be his guide. Rationalism\nis dead. In the last years of the second century a religious\nreaction begins to assert itself and makes itself felt more and more\nin the period that follows. Philosophy itself becomes at last a\nreligion, drawing its nourishment from surmise and revelation. The\ninvisible world wins the day over the meagre present, so grievously\nbound down by the limitation of mere experience. No longer does the\nsoul await with courage and calmness whatever may be hidden behind\nthe dark curtain of death. Life seemed to need something to complete\nit. And how faded and grey life had become[171\\15]--a rejuvenation\nupon this earth seemed to be out of the question. All the more\ncomplete, in consequence, is the submission that throws itself with\nclosed eyes and eager yearning upon another world, situated now far\nbeyond the limits of the known or knowable world of the living.\nHopes and a vague longing, a shrinking before the mysterious terrors\nof the unknown, fill the soul. Never in the history of the ancient\nworld is the belief in an immortal life of the soul after death a\nmatter of such burning and exacerbated ardour as in these last days\nwhen the antique civilization was preparing itself to breathe its\nlast.\n\nHopes of immortality, widely espoused by the masses and fed rather\non faith than on reflexion, sought satisfaction in the brilliant\nceremonial of religions that easily outshone the simple worship of\nevery day officially undertaken by the city. In these new rites the\nworshippers united in the secret cult seemed to be placed more\ndirectly in the hands of the gods; and, above all, a blessed\nexistence hereafter was assured to pious {546} believers. In these\ndays the ancient and hallowed mysteries of Eleusis awake to a new\nlife and remain in vigorous activity till nearly the end of the\nfourth century.[172\\15] Orphic conventicles must have attracted\nworshippers for ages;[173\\15] the Hellenized Orient was familiar\nwith many such orgiastic cults.\n\nIn the mixed populations of the East the new religions proved more\nattractive to the Greeks, too, than their old worship of the gods of\nGreece. Clear and definite obligations, fixed commandments and\ndogmas, holding the weak and frail individual in their stronger\nembrace, seemed to belong more peculiarly to these foreign worships\nthan to the old beliefs of Greece. Rigid and unalterable maintenance\nof primitive ideas and practices seemed to give the former the stamp\nof sacred and certain knowledge. From all men they demanded perfect\nsubmission to the God and his priests; perfect renunciation of the\nworld, conceived as dualistically opposed to the divine; the purging\naway of the contamination of its lusts by purifications and\nsanctifications, ceremonial expiations and asceticisms. By these\nmeans the faithful prepared themselves for the highest reward that\npiety could conceive; an unending life of bliss far away from this\nunclean world in the realm of the holy and the consecrated. To the\nbelief in a blessed immortality these foreign mysteries contributed\ntheir much desired support; and the populace welcomed their message\nof salvation with all the greater eagerness since their varied and\nimpressive ceremonial contrasted so strikingly with the plain and\nhomely worship of the Greek gods. In the symbolism of these exotic\ncults men seemed to discern a mysterious and secret knowledge; and\nto the divine figures illuminated by such a halo were easily\nattributed strange and magical powers beyond belief or experience.\nThe cult of the Egyptian deities had long been familiar both in the\nEast and in the West, and they maintained and extended their\ninfluence down to the last days of the ancient religions. The\nPhrygian deities, the Thraco-Phrygian cults of Sabazios, Attis, and\nKybele, and the Persian worship of Mithras were later comers, but\nthey, too, took equally firm root and spread over the whole extent\nof the empire.[174\\15]\n\nThe higher culture of these last centuries, having become credulous\nand avid of marvels, no longer looked with contempt upon the means\nof salvation and sanctification which had once been left almost\nentirely to the lower orders of the population. The most cultivated\nand educated people of these times used their culture and their\neducation simply to justify everything mysterious and\nincomprehensible in itself--even {547} when it was expressed in the\nmost physical symbolism. The newly awakened religious interest of\nthe populace had coincided with a return on the part of philosophy\nto the teaching of Plato; a teaching which itself tended towards\nreligion. Platonism had invaded the doctrine of other schools at\nmany points, and it had already acquired a new home for itself in\nthe restored Academy, where once an un-Platonic Scepticism had\noverthrown the teaching of the master. Now a new Platonism comes\nforward and overwhelms all the other schools of philosophy.\nAbsorbing the doctrines of Aristotle and Chrysippos (which it\nfancied it could reconcile with Platonism), it weaved them into its\nown special teaching so that the whole presented a subtle and\nfar-reaching system of thought. The speculative system of\nNeoplatonism, into which the old age of Greece, in spite of its\nweariness, contrived to introduce so much profundity, spirit, and\ningenuity (together with a luxuriant mass of scholastic folly),\nfills the history of the last centuries of Greek thought. Its\nfundamental tendency is, once more, a turning away from the life of\nnature, and a determined invasion of a transcendent world of pure\nspirit; and it was by this tendency that it satisfied the needs of\nits time. The Sole and First Cause, lying beyond all being and\ncontinually expressing itself in creative emanations, yet never\ntroubled or impaired in its perfect and eternal transcendency; the\ndevelopment, in an unbroken process from this One, of the world of\nthinking, of the Ideas and pure thought preserved in it--the world\nof Spirit and the world of Matter--until at last, in longing and\ndesire,[175\\15] all things created return to the origin of all\nBeing: to describe and express all this is the single theme,\npersisting throughout all variations, of this philosophy. The whole\nfabric of reality, the interplay of cause and effect, depends upon\nthe inherence of the thing caused in its Cause from which it takes\nits origin and to which it returns at last. That which in the\nevolution of nature takes its origin from the One, and degenerates\nmore and more completely, in the darkness and corruption of Matter,\nas it gets further away from its source--now becomes Man and seeks\nin morality and religion a conscious return to the pure and\neverlasting and unfailing One. The divine does not descend to earth\nand man must reach upwards to the divine heights in order to unite\nhimself with the One that is before all multiplicity. This union can\nbe brought about by the pure exercise of the human reason, but also\nin the mysterious harmony of the individual life with the First\nCause that is beyond all reason in the ecstasy {548} that is above\nall rationality. It can be achieved when at last the whole series of\nrebirths has been passed through, whereupon the pure soul, the\ndivine in man, enters into the divinity of the Whole.[176\\15]\n\nTo fly from the world--not to work within the world to produce\nsomething better--is the teaching and injunction of this last Greek\nphilosophy. Away from separate, divided Being, upward towards the\nuninterrupted glory of the One divine life, the soul wings its way.\nThe world, this visible world of matter, is fair, says Plotinos, for\nit is the work and image of the divine, present and working in it. A\nlast gleam of the departing sunlight of Greek sensibility seems to\nbreak through the words in which Plotinos rejects the\nChristian-Gnostic hatred of the world.[177\\15] The ugly, he says, is\nstrange and contrary to God as well as to Nature.[178\\15] But the\nsoul must no longer rest in the world of created beauty.[179\\15] The\nsoul is so profoundly conscious of its derivation from the\nsupra-sensual, of its divinity and eternity, that it must rise above\nall created being and reach out to the One that was before the world\nand remains for ever outside the world.[180\\15]\n\nThis philosophy, profoundly estranged though it was from the old\nGreek attitude to life with its enjoyment of the world, nevertheless\nfelt itself called upon to oppose the rising tide of the new and\nirresistible religion. It took under its protection the ancient\nGreek culture and the ancient faith that was so inseparably bound up\nwith that culture. Its most convinced supporters, with the last of\nthe Emperors of the old faith at their head, threw themselves\nwhole-heartedly into the fray. And before them rode the Genius of\nancient Hellas, and the old beliefs of Greece. But when the battle\nhad been fought and lost it became apparent to all the world that it\nwas a corpse that rode before the exalted combatants, like the body\nof the dead Cid Campeador fastened upon his horse and leading his\nhosts against the Moors. The ancient religion of Greece, and with it\nthe whole civilized life of the Greek world, faded and died at that\ndiscovery, and could not be recalled to life. A newer faith, very\ndifferently endowed and having power to crush the heavily laden soul\nand point it upwards in absolute submission to the divine\ncompassion, held the field. The new world that was coming into being\nhad need of it.\n\nAnd yet--was Greece quite extinguished and dead for ever? Much--only\ntoo much--of the philosophy of its old age lived on in the\nspeculative system of the Christian faith. And in the whole of\nmodern culture so far as it has built itself upon {549} Christianity\nor by extension from it, in all modern science and art, not a little\nsurvives of Greek genius and Greek inspiration. The outward\nembodiment of Hellas is gone; its spirit is imperishable. Nothing\nthat has once been alive in the spiritual life of man can ever\nperish entirely; it has achieved a new form of existence in the\nconsciousness of mankind--an immortality of its own. Not always in\nequal measure, nor always in the same place, does the stream of\nGreek thought rise to the surface in the life of mankind. But it is\na river that never quite runs dry; it vanishes, to reappear; it\nburies itself to emerge again. _Desinunt ista, non pereunt._\n\n\nNOTES TO CHAPTER XIV\n\nPART II\n\n\n[1\\15: See above, chap. v, p. 162 f.]\n\n[2\\15: Lucian 50, _De Luctu_: washing, anointing, crowning of the\ndead body, ~pro/thesis~: c. 11. Violent dirge-singing over the dead,\n12; accompanied by the ~aulo/s~, 19; and led by a special singer\n~thr\u00ean\u00f4=n sophist\u00ea/s~, 20. Special lament by the father, 13. The\ndead is before them with jaws tied up and so secured against\nunsightly gaping--19 fin. (a stronger form of the Homeric ~su/n te\nsto/m' erei/dein~, ~l~ 426). For this purpose narrow bands are drawn\nround the chin, cheeks, and forehead of the dead man. We sometimes\nsee them represented on vases depicting a lying-in-state, and they\nhave also been found sometimes in graves in which case they have\nbeen made of metal (gold or lead): see Wolters, _Ath. Mitth._ 1896,\np. 367 ff. ~esth\u00ea/s, ko/smos~ (even including horses and slaves)\nburnt or buried in company with the dead for his pleasure, 14.\n~obolo/s~ given to the dead, 10. The dead fed by ~choai/~ and\n~kathagi/smata~, 9. The gravestone crowned; sprinkled with\n~a/kratos~; burnt offering, 19. ~peri/deipnon~ after a three days'\nfast, 24.]\n\n[3\\15: From a rather earlier period we hear that it is a bad thing\nto be dead ~m\u00ea\\ tucho/nta t\u00f4=n nomi/m\u00f4n~--it is an infamous deed for\nthe son to deny his father ~ta\\ nomizo/mena~ after death; Din.,\n_Aristog._ viii, 18; cf. [D.] 25, 54.--The dead man says with\nsatisfaction ~pa/nth' ho/sa toi=s chr\u00eastoi=s phthime/nois no/mos\nesti\\ gene/sthai t\u00f4=nde tuch\u00f4\\n kag\u00f4\\ to/nde ta/phon kate/ch\u00f4~,\n_Epigr. Gr._, 137; cf. 153, 7-8.]\n\n[4\\15: ~homo/taphoi~ are mentioned among other associations as\noccurring in a Solonian law: _Digest._ 47, 22, 4. These would\nprobably be special _collegia funeraticia_ (at any rate societies of\nwhich the exclusive or essential bond of union consisted in ~homou=\ntaph\u00ea=nai~--and not, therefore, any of the ordinary ~thi/asoi~ or\nany \"gentilician association\" as Ziebarth thinks, _Gr.\nVereinswesen_, p. 17 [1896]). There are also traces (but not very\nfrequent) of common burial grounds belonging to ~thi/asoi~; e.g. in\nKos, _Inscr. Cos_, 155-9. ~eranistai/~ bury their dead member,\n_CIA._ ii, 3308; ~summu/stai~ do the same, _Ath. Mitt._ ix, 35. A\nmember contributes as ~tami/as~ of the _collegium_ out of his own\nmeans, for the benefit of dead members of an ~e/ranos, eis t\u00ea\\n\ntaph\u00ea/n, tou= eusch\u00eamonei=n autou\\s kai\\ teteleut\u00eako/tas ktl.~,\n_CIA._ ii, 621 (about 150 B.C.). Another ~tami/as de/d\u00f4ken toi=s\nmetalla/xasin (thias\u00f4/tais) ta\\ taphiko\\n parachr\u00ea=ma~ ins. from\nAttica, third century B.C. _CIA._ iv, 2, 623b; cf. ib., 615b, l.\n14-15; Rhod. inscr. in _BCH._ iv, 138. Dionysiastai, Athenaistai in\nTanagra ~e/thapsan to\\n dei=na~: _GDI._ 960-2 (_IG. Sept._ i,\n685-9). The Iobakchai in Athens (third century A.D.) offer a crown\nand wine at the burial of a member: _Ath. Mitt._ 1894, 261, l. 158\nff. ~hoi thi/asoi pa/ntes~ and even ~hoi e/ph\u00eaboi kai\\ hoi ne/oi, ho\nd\u00ea=mos, h\u00ea gerousi/a~ erect the monument, _CIG._ 3101, 3112. (Teos)\n~sunodei=tai~ bury together the members of their ~su/nodoi~, _IPE._\nii, 60-5. A gymnasiarch also undertakes ~t\u00f4=n ekkomid\u00f4=n\nepime/leian~, _Inscr. Perg._, ii, 252, l. 16; noteworthy also is ii,\n374 B, l. 21-5. A few more exx. are given by E. Loch, _Zu d. griech.\nGrabschriften_ (_Festschr. Friedl\u00e4nder_, 1895), p. 288.] {551}\n\n[5\\15: ~d\u00eamosi/a taph\u00ea/~ frequently. Resolution ~pand\u00eamei\\\nparape/mpsasthai to\\ s\u00f4=ma tou= dei=nos epi\\ t\u00ea\\n k\u00eadei/an autou=~,\ninscr. of Amorgos, _BCH._ 1891, p. 577 (l. 26); p. 586 (l. 17 ff.).\nResolution of the council and people of Olbia (first century B.C.):\nwhen the body of a certain deserving citizen who has died abroad is\nbrought into the city, all workshops are to close, the citizens\nwearing black shall follow his ~ekphora/~; an equestrian statue of\nthe dead man to be erected and every year at the ~hippodromi/ai~ of\nAchilles the golden crown granted to the dead man to be proclaimed,\netc.: _IPE._ i, 17, 22 ff.--Honour paid to a dead man by granting a\ngolden crown, _CIG._ 3185; cf. Cic., _Flac._ 75. This example comes\nfrom Smyrna, where such honours were particularly common: see B\u00f6ckh\non _CIG._ 3216. Frequent on Asia Minor inss.: ~ha po/lis~ sc.\n~stephanoi=, e/thapsen, to\\n dei=na. ho da=mos t\u00f4=| dei=ni~, sc.\n~ane/th\u00eake~, on graves: see esp. G. Hirschfeld, _Greek Inscr. in\nBrit. Mus._ iv, 1, p. 34. More ap. Loch, op. cit., p. 287.]\n\n[6\\15: This seems to have been particularly common in Amorgos; cf.\n_CIG._ 2264b: four inss. from Amorgos. _BCH._ 1891, p. 574 (153-4\nB.C.), 577, 586 (242 B.C.), 588 f. The Council of the Areopagos and\nthe people of Athens decree the erection of a statue in honour of a\nyoung man of rank (T. Statilius Lamprias) who has died ~pro\\ h\u00f4/ras~\nin Epidauros, and also the dispatch of envoys to ~paramuth\u00ea/sasthai\napo\\ tou= t\u00ea=s po/le\u00f4s ono/matos~ his parents and his grandfather\nLamprias. In the same way the citizens of Sparta send an embassy of\nsympathy and consolation to other relatives of the same youth (first\ncentury A.D.), _Fouil. d'Epidaur._ i, 205-9, pp. 67-70. Honorific\ndecree of council and people of Corinth for the same person, ~Eph.\nArch.~, 1894, p. 15. ~_ps\u00eaphi/smata paramuth\u00eatika/_~ of two Lydian\ncities at the death of a man of rank (first century A.D.), _Anz.\nWien. Ak._, Phil. Hist. Cl., 16th Nov., 1893 (n. 24) = _Ath. Mitt._\n1894, p. 102 f.; cf. Paros, _CIG._ 2383 (the council and people\ndecree the erection of a statue to a dead boy ~epi\\ me/rous\nparamuth\u00easo/menoi to\\n pate/ra~); Aphrodisias in Karia, _CIG._ 277b,\n2775b-d; Neapolis, _CIG._ 5836 = _IG. Sic. It._ 758.--The grounds of\nconsolation, so far as they are alluded to, are regularly\nindependent of any theological teaching: ~phe/rein summe/tr\u00f4s ta\\\nt\u00ea=s lu/p\u00eas eido/tas ho/ti aparai/t\u00eato/s estin h\u00ea epi\\ pa/nt\u00f4n\nanthr\u00f4/p\u00f4n moi=ra~ and the like (~phe/rein to\\ sumbeb\u00eako\\s\nanthr\u00f4pi/n\u00f4s~, _F. d'Epid._ i, 209). We are reminded of the\n~paramuth\u00eatikoi\\ lo/goi~ of the philosophers which are literary\nexpressions of these consolations--the philosophers in fact were\nexpected _ex officio_ to offer such consolations to the mourners,\ncf. Plu., _Superst._ 186 C; D. Chr. 27, \u00a7 9 (ii, 285 Arn.).]\n\n[7\\15: In spite of any brevity in the narrative the fact of ritual\nburial is regularly alluded to (as an important circumstance) in the\nromance of Xen. Eph. and in the _Historia Apollonii_: _Griech.\nRoman_, 391, 3; 413, 1.]\n\n[8\\15: At Athens his friend vainly tries to obtain burial _intra\nurbem_ for the murdered Marcellus: quod religione se impediri\ndicerent; neque id antea cuiquam concesserunt (while in Rome people\nwere occasionally buried in the city in spite of the prohibition of\nthe XII tables: Cic., _Lg._ ii, 58): Servius to Cicero, _Fam._ 4,\n12, 3 (45 B.C.). There it was permitted uti in quo vellent gymnasio\neum sepelirent and finally his body was cremated and the remains\nburied in nobilissimo orbis terraram gymnasio, the Academy.\n~entapha\\ kai\\ the/sis tou= s\u00f4/matos en t\u00f4=| gumnasi/\u00f4|~ (of an\naristocratic Roman) in Kyme: _GDI._ 311. To a living benefactor of\nthat city ~sunech\u00f4r\u00ea/th\u00ea kai\\ entaph\u00ea=nai~ (in the future) ~en t\u00f4=|\ngumnasi/\u00f4|~, _CIG._ 279b (Aphrodisias in Karia). As a special mark of\nhonour paid to a benefactor of the city it is permitted that his\nbody in oppidum introferatur (into Smyrna: Cic., _Flac._ 75),\n~entapha\\ kata\\ po/lin kai\\ {552} tapha\\ d\u00eamosi/a, entapha\\ kata\\\npo/lin en t\u00f4=| episamota/t\u00f4| tou= gumnasi/ou to/p\u00f4|~, Knidos, _GDI._\n3501, 3502 (time of Augustus). The city buries a youth ~gumna/dos en\nteme/nei~, _Epigr. Gr._ 222 (Amorgos).--Ulpian, _Dig._ 47, 12, 3, 5,\nimplies the possibility that lex municipalis permittat in civitate\nsepeleri.]\n\n[9\\15: ~s\u00ea=ma~, i.e. probably grave and monument, of Messia set up\nby her husband in his own house: _Epigr. Gr._ 682 (Rome).]\n\n[10\\15: Thus _Inscr. Perg._ ii, 590, ~z\u00f4=n ho dei=na kateskeu/ase\nto\\ mn\u00eamei=on t\u00ea=| idi/a| ma/mm\u00ea| . . . kai\\ t\u00f4=| pa/pp\u00f4|, heaut\u00f4=|,\ngunaiki/, te/knois, ekgo/nois anexallotri/\u00f4ton he/\u00f4s diadoch\u00ea=s\nktl.~ Similar directions, ib., n. 591, and frequently. The series\nincludes the old and traditional circle of the ~_agchistei=s_~: see\nabove, chap. v, nn. 141 and 146 (where ~me/chri anepsiad\u00f4=n pai/d\u00f4n~\nshould be read).]\n\n[11\\15: There was even a Solonian law against violation and plunder\nof tombs: Cic., _Lg._ ii, 64. The specially invented word\n~tumb\u00f4ru/chos~ shows that such practices were frequent at a quite\nearly period; cf. ~s\u00eama/t\u00f4n ph\u00f4=ra~, Herond. v, 57. Complaint on\naccount of the rifling of a tomb: Egypt, papyr. of 127 B.C.,\n_Notices et extraits_, xviii, 2, p. 161 f. Frequent rescripts of\nemperors of the fourth century against the profanation of graves,\n_Cod. Theod._ ix, 17. But even emperors of second and third\ncenturies had to deal with the subject: _Dig._ 47, 12, and cf.\nPaul., _Sent._ 1, 21, 4 ff.; _sepulchri violati actio_, Quint.,\n_Decl._ 299, 369, 373. Grave-thieves were a favourite character in\nromance: e.g. ap. Xen. Eph., Chariton and others. Epigram of Greg.\nNaz. on the subject of looted graves, _Anth. Pal._ viii, 176 ff.\nFrom the fourth century the Christians in particular seem to have\nbeen a danger to heathen burial places (cf. Gothofred., ad _Cod.\nTheod._ iii, p. 150 Ritt.)--in fact, ecclesiastics were specially\ngiven to grave-robbery: _Novell. Valentin._ 5 (p. 111 Ritt.),\nCassiod., _Var._ iv, 18; _bustuarii latrones_ (Amm. Marc. 28, 1,\n12), were then frequent. An Egyptian anchorite had at an earlier\nperiod become latronum maximus et sepulchrorum violator: Rufin.,\n_Vit. Patr._ 9 (p. 446b Rossw.).]\n\n[12\\15: Inscrr. indicating such sepulchral penalties are rare on the\nmainland of Greece, common in Thrace and the Greek cities of Asia\nMinor, but most frequent of all in Lykia. Most of them belong to the\nRoman period, but also appeal occasionally to ~to\\n t\u00ea=s asebei/as\nno/mon~ of the city (cf. also Korkyra. _CIG._ 1933); or refer to the\n~e/gkl\u00eama tumb\u00f4ruchi/as~ as though it were a local process of law\nwhich had perhaps been confirmed by an Imperial ordinance\n(~hupeu/thunos e/st\u00f4 toi=s diata/gmasi kai\\ toi=s patri/ois\nno/mois~, inscr. from Tralles: see Hirschfeld, p. 121). They\ntherefore cannot be simply borrowed from the Roman custom, but\nbelong to the old law of the country esp. in Lykia where a similar\nprescription has been found dating from the third century B.C.:\n_CIG._ 4529; see Hirschfeld, _K\u00f6nigsb. Stud._ i, pp. 85-144\n(1887)--doubt is thrown on the legal validity of the penal clauses\nin such inscrr. by J. Merkel, _Festg. f. Ihering_, p. 109 ff.\n(1892).]\n\n[13\\15: Curses directed against those who bury unauthorized persons\nin a grave or damage the monument are rare in European Greece: e.g.\nAegina, _CIG._ 2140b; Thessaly, _BCH._ xv, 568; Athens, _CIA._\n1417-28; among these is a Thessalian grave, 1427; a Christian, 1428;\n1417-22 are set up by Herodes Atticus to Apia Regilla and\nPolydeukion (cf. K. Keil, Pauly-Wiss. i, 2101), but his coquetting\nwith the cult of the ~chtho/nioi~ proves nothing for the common\nopinion of his fellow citizens. Sepulchral curses are particularly\ncommon in inss. from Lykia and Phrygia; also Cilicia, _JHS._ 1891,\np. 228, 231, 267; a few also from Halikarnassian graves; Samos,\n_CIG._ 2260.--The {553} grave and its peace are placed under the\ncare of the underworld deities in these inss.: ~paradi/d\u00f4mi toi=s\nkatachthoni/ois theoi=s tou=to to\\ h\u00ear\u00f4=|on phula/ssein ktl.~,\n_CIA._ iii, 1423-4. Cf. also a Cretan inscr. _Ath. Mitt._ 1893, p.\n211. Whoever introduces a stranger into the grave or damages the\ngrave ~_aseb\u00ea\\s_ e/st\u00f4 theoi=s katachthoni/ois~ (thus in Lykia,\n_CIG._ 4207; 4290; 4292), ~aseb\u00ea/sei ta\\ peri\\ tou\\s theou/s te kai\\\nthea\\s pa/sas kai\\ h\u00ea/r\u00f4as pa/ntas~ (from Itonos in Phthiotis,\n_BCH._ xv, 568). ~_hamart\u00f4lo\\s_ e/st\u00f4 theoi=s katachthoni/ois~,\n_CIG._ 4252b, 4259, 4300e, i, k, v, 4307, 4308; _BCH._ 1894, p. 326\n(n. 9)--all from Lykia. (The formula occurs already in a Lyk. inscr.\nof 240 B.C.; _BCH._ 1890, p. 164: ~hamart\u00f4loi\\ e/st\u00f4san~--the\narchons and citizens who neglect to offer the yearly sacrifice to\nZeus Soter--~the\u00f4=n pa/nt\u00f4n kai\\ apotine/t\u00f4 ho a/rch\u00f4n ktl.~, which\nthus corresponds exactly with the oldest Lyk. inscr. with sepulchral\npenalty, _CIG._ 4259). ~e/st\u00f4 _hiero/sulos_ theoi=s ourani/ois kai\\\nkatachthoni/ois~, _CIG._ 4253 (Pinara in Lykia). This must mean: he\nshall be regarded as having transgressed the _law_ against\n~ase/beia, hierosuli/a~ (cf. ~_hoi no/moi_ hoi peri\\ hierosu/lou~,\nTeos, _SIG._ 523, 51), ~tumb\u00f4ruchi/a~, having at the same time\noffended against the gods (see Hirschfeld, op. cit., p. 120 f.).\nMore particular is another Lyk. ins.: ~hamart\u00f4lo\\s e/st\u00f4 the\u00f4=n\npa/nt\u00f4n kai\\ L\u00eatou=s kai\\ t\u00f4=n te/kn\u00f4n~ (as the special gods of the\ncountry), _CIG._ 4259, 4303, (iii, p. 1138), 4303 e^3 (p. 1139). In\nCilicia ~e/st\u00f4 \u00easeb\u00eak\u00f4\\s e/s te to\\n Di/a kai\\ t\u00ea\\n Sel\u00ea/n\u00ean~,\n_JHS._ xii, 231. Phrygian: ~kechol\u00f4me/non e/choito M\u00ea=na\nkatachtho/nion~, _BCH._ 1886, p. 503, 6; cf. ~enorkizo/metha M\u00ea=na\nkatachtho/nion eis tou=to mn\u00eamei=on m\u00eade/na eiselthei=n~, _Amer.\nSchool at Athens_ iii, 174. The same is intended by the peculiarly\nPhrygian denunciation ~e/st\u00f4 aut\u00f4=| pro\\s to\\n theo\\n, pro\\s t\u00ea\\n\nchei=ra tou= theou=, pro\\s to\\ me/ga o/noma tou= theou=~, _CIG._\n3872b (p. 1099), 3890, 3902 f.o., 3963: _Amer. School_ iii, 411;\n_BCH._ 1893, p. 246 ff. That these are Christian formulae--as\nRamsay, _JHS._ iv, p. 400 f., supposes--is hardly likely. Equally\nunlikely in the case of 3902r (Franz rightly protests against the\nidea): ~e/stai aut\u00f4=| pro\\s to\\n z\u00f4=nta theo/n~ (the same occurs\nagain in a decisively non-Christian sense: _BCH._ 1893, p. 241)\n~kai\\ nu=n kai\\ en t\u00f4=| krisi/m\u00f4| h\u00eame/ra| (kri/sis~ apparently =\ndeath in _CIG._ 6731, from Rome, which, considering the words\n~a/galma eimi H\u00eali/ou~, can hardly be Christian). ~t\u00ea=s tou= theou=\norg\u00ea=s methe/xetai~, _CIA._ iii, 1427. Obscure threat: ~ou ga\\r m\u00ea\\\nsunei/k\u00ea| . . .~, _CIG._ 2140b (Aegina. The profaner of graves is\ncursed in more detail: ~tou/t\u00f4| m\u00ea\\ g\u00ea= bat\u00ea/, m\u00ea\\ tha/lassa pl\u00f4t\u00ea/,\nalla\\ ekreiz\u00f4th\u00ea/setai pagge/nei~ (the ~arai/~ on the mss. of Herod.\nAtt. agree so far at least in intention, _CIA._ iii, 1417-22).\n~pa=si toi=s kakoi=s pei=ran d\u00f4/sei, kai\\ phrei/k\u00ea| kai\\ puret\u00f4=|\nkai\\ tetartai/\u00f4| kai\\ ele/phanti ktl.~, _CIA._ iii, 1423-4 (similar\ncurse on a lead tablet from Crete: _Ath. Mitt._ 1893, p. 211). The\nfirst half of this imprecation represents the regular formula in\nsuch ~arai/~ and ~ho/rkoi--m\u00ea\\ g\u00ea= bat\u00ea/ ktl.~; cf. W\u00fcnsch,\n_Defix._, p. vii, and a Jewish-Greek inscr. from Euboea: ~Eph.\nArch.~, 1892, p. 175; it occurs also in _CIG._ 2664, 2667\n(Halikarnassos); 4303 (p. 1138 Phrygia. ~d\u00f4/sei toi=s\nkatachthoni/ois theoi=s di/k\u00ean~, 4190 (Cappadocia). ~o/rphana te/kna\nli/poito, ch\u00ea=ron bio/n, oi=kon e/r\u00eamon, en puri\\ pa/nta da/moito,\nkak\u00f4=n hu/po chei=ras o/loito~ 3862, 3875, 400 (Phrygia). These are\nall peculiarly and originally _Phrygian_; something similar seems to\noccur in inss. in the Phrygian language: see _Ztschr. vergl.\nSprachf._ 28, 381 ff.; _BCH._ 1896, p. 111 ff. Phrygian, too, is the\ncurse ~hou=tos d' a\u00f4/rois peripe/soito sumphorai=s~, _Epigr. Gr._,\np. 149, _Amer. Sch. Ath._ ii, 168--i.e. may his children die\n~a/\u00f4roi~. (More plainly ~te/kn\u00f4n a\u00f4/r\u00f4n peripe/soito sumphora=|~,\n_BCH._ 1893, p. 272.) Sometimes the additional phrase is found ~kai\\\nmeta\\ tha/naton de\\ la/boi tou\\s hupochthoni/ous theou\\s tim\u00f4rou\\s\nkai\\ kechol\u00f4me/nous~, {554} _CIG._ 3915 (Phrygian). Besides the\ncommon imprecations we also have ~thano/nti de\\ oude\\ h\u00ea g\u00ea=\npare/xei aut\u00f4=| ta/phon~, 2826 (Aphrodisias in Karia); ~m\u00ea/te\nourano\\s t\u00ea\\n psuch\u00ea\\n autou= parade/xaito~, _Am. Sch. Ath._ iii,\n411 (Pisidia). Barbarous in the extreme is an inscr. from Cilicia\n(_JHS._ 1891, p. 287): ~he/xei pa/nta ta\\ thei=a kechol\u00f4me/na kai\\\nta\\s stugera\\s Ereinu/as kai\\ idi/ou te/knou h\u00ea/patos\ngeu/setai~.--With these grave-imprecations we may compare also the\nthreats uttered against those who shall neglect the directions for\nthe honouring of King Antiochos of Kommagene who lies buried in his\n~hierothe/sion~ (ib, 13; iiib, 3: hence correct ~hierothu/sion~ in\nPaus. 4, 32, 1) on the Nemrud Dagh: ~eido/tas ho/ti chalep\u00ea\\\nne/mesis basilik\u00f4=n daimo/n\u00f4n, tim\u00f4ro\\s homoi/\u00f4s ameli/as te kai\\\nhu/bre\u00f4s, ase/beian di\u00f4/kei kath\u00f4si\u00f4me/n\u00f4n te h\u00ear\u00f4/\u00f4n ateimasthei\\s\nno/mos aneila/tous e/chei poina/s. ta\\ me\\n ga\\r ho/sion ha/pan\nkoupho\\n e/rgon, t\u00ea=s de\\ asebei/as opisthobarei=s anagkai/~ (iiia,\n22 ff., _Ber. Berl. Akad._ 1883).]\n\n[14\\15: From the point of view of religion, at any rate, it is true,\nthough with considerable reservations, that most of the Greeks and\nMacedonians scattered over Asia and Egypt in _coloniae_, in Syros\nParthos Aegyptios degenerarunt, Liv. 38, 17, 11-12. The only\nnon-Greek nation (apart from the Romans) which learnt anything from\nthe Greeks or from the semi-religious Greek philosophy was the\nJewish--at once the most stubborn and the most pliable of them all.]\n\n[15\\15: At a quite late period, in order to explain the impiety of\ngrave-robbing, Valentinian says (following the libri veteris\nsapientiae quite as much as Christian teaching) licet occasus\nnecessitatem mens divina (of man) non sentiat, amant tamen animae\nsedem corporum relictorum et nescio qua sorte rationis occultae\nsepulchri honore laetantur (_Nov. Valent._ v, p. 111 Ritt.).]\n\n[16\\15: After the reception of the last person who has a right there\n~apoier\u00f4=sthai to\\n pla/tan, aph\u00ear\u00f4\u00ef/sthai to\\ mn\u00eamei=on~, _CIG._\n2827, 2834. ~korak\u00f4th\u00ea/setai~, i.e. it will be finally shut up:\n3919.]\n\n[17\\15: ~epea\\n de\\ toi=s kamou=sin egchutl\u00f4/s\u00f4men~, Herond. v, 84\n(i.e. at the end of the month: festival of the dead at the\n~triaka/des~, see above, chap. v, n. 88. ~h\u00eame/ras l\u00eagou/s\u00eas kai\\\nm\u00eano\\s phthi/nontos ei\u00f4/thasin enagi/zein hoi polloi/~, Plu., _Q.\nRom._ 34, p. 272 D). Offerings to the dead at the grave: see besides\nLuc., _Charon_, 22.]\n\n[18\\15: Epikteta: see above, chap. v, n. 126. Traces of a similar\nfoundation on an inscr. from Thera ap. Ross, _Inscr. Gr._ 198 (ii,\np. 81).--Otherwise the son will perhaps offer to his father ~t\u00ea\\n\ntaph\u00ea\\n kai\\ _to\\n enagismo/n_~ (_CIG._ 1976, Thessalonike; 3645\nLampsakos)--~to\\ h\u00ear\u00f4=|on kateskeu/asen eis ai\u00f4/nion mn\u00ea/m\u00ean kai\\\nt\u00ea=| meta\\ tha/naton aph\u00f4si\u00f4me/n\u00ea| thr\u00easkei/a|~ (_CIG._ 4224d, iii,\np. 1119 Lykia). A dead man has left the council of a city a sum of\nmoney for a ~stephan\u00f4tiko/n~ (_CIG._ 3912, 3916 Hierapolis in\nPhrygia); i.e. in order that his grave may be crowned every year from\nthe interest of the money: 3919. Another man leaves money to a\nsociety to celebrate his memory yearly by holding a ~eu\u00f4chi/a~ with\n~oinoposi/a~ illumination and crowns: 3028 Ephesos. An annual feast\nin honour of a dead man's memory on his ~gene/thlios h\u00eame/ra~: 3417\nPhiladelphia in Lydia (this is the proper day for a feast of the\ndead: see above, chap. v, n. 89). Annual memorial in the month\n~Huaki/nthios~ for a dead ~archieranist\u00ea/s~ in Rhodos,\n~anago/reusis~ of his crowns of honour and crowning of his\n~mn\u00eamei=on~, regular ~anago/reusis ta=n tima=n en tai=s suno/dois~\n(of the ~e/ranos~) ~kai\\ tai=s _epichu/sesin_~ (second century\nB.C.), _IGM. Aeg._ i, 155, l. 53 ff., 67 ff. Another foundation, in\nElatea (_BCH._ x, 382), seems to have been much more elaborate in\nintention and to have included the sacrifice of a bull, as well as\n~eu\u00f4chi/a~ and an ~ag\u00f4/n~.] {555}\n\n[19\\15: ~ta/phos, deuo/menos gera/\u00f4n~, inscr. from Athens (second\ncentury A.D.): _Ath. Mitt._ 1892, p. 272, l. 6. ~the/lgein psuch\u00ea\\n\ntethn\u00eako/tos andro/s~ by libations at the grave: _Epigr. Gr._ 120,\n9-10.]\n\n[20\\15: The ~_apo/taphoi_~: this is the name given to those\n~apester\u00eame/noi t\u00f4=n progonik\u00f4=n ta/ph\u00f4n~, _EM._ 131, 44. They even\nhad a burial place of their own: ~apota/ph\u00f4n ta/ph\u00f4n~ on a marble\nvase from Rhodos, _IGM. Aeg._ i, 656.]\n\n[21\\15: This ~chai=re~ repeats the last farewell which accompanied\nthe removal of the body from the house (Eur., _Alc._ 626 f.). Cf.\n~chai=re/ moi \u00f4= Pa/trokle kai\\ ein A\u00ef/dao do/moisin~, the words\nwith which Achilles (~Ps~ 179) addresses his dead friend lying upon\nthe funeral pyre. So too on tombstones ~chai=re~ must be intended to\nsuggest the continued sympathy of the survivors and the appreciation\nby the dead of that sympathy. Does it also imply veneration of the\ndeparted as ~krei/tt\u00f4n~? Gods and Heroes were also addressed with\nthis word: cf. ~chai=r' a/nax H\u00eara/klees~, etc.--The passer-by calls\nout ~chai=re~: ~chai/rete h\u00ea/r\u00f4es. ho para/g\u00f4n se aspa/zetai~, _Ath.\nMitt._ ix, 263; and cf. _Epigr. Gr._ 218, 17-18; 237, 7-8; cf. Loch,\nop. cit., 278 f.]\n\n[22\\15: ~chai/rete~ is said by the dead man to the living; B\u00f6ckh on\n_CIG._ 3775 (ii, p. 968); cf. ~chaire/t\u00f4 ho anagnou/s~, _IG. Sic. et\nIt._ [_IG._ xiv] 350.]\n\n[23\\15: ~chai/rete h\u00ea/r\u00f4es. chai=re kai\\ su\\ kai\\ euo/dei~, _CIG._\n1956 (more given by B\u00f6ckh, ii, p. 50; see also on 3278); _Inscr.\nCos_, 343; _IG. Sic. et It._ 60, 319; _BCH._ 1893-4, 242 (5), 249\n(22), 528 (24), 533 (36); specially noteworthy is p. 529 (28),\n~Leu/kie Liki/nie chai=re. ke\\ su/ ge \u00f4= parodei=ta \"chai/rois ho/ti\ntou=to to\\ semno\\n | ei=pas emoi\\ chai/rein hei/neken eusebi/\u00eas\"~.\nTo call upon the dead is an act of ~euse/beia~.]\n\n[24\\15: At the burial of a woman who is being given a public funeral\n~epebo/ase ho da=mos tri\\s to\\ o/noma auta=s~, _GDI._ 3504 (Knidos;\nin the time of Trajan). In the same way the name of the ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~ was\ncalled out three times at a sacrifice in his honour: see above,\nchap. iv, n. 62.]\n\n[25\\15: Tombstone of Q. Marcius Strato (circ. second century A.D.),\n_Ath. Mitt._ 1892, p. 272, l. 5 ff. ~toi/gar ho/soi Bromi/\u00f4|\nPaphi/\u00ea| te ne/oi meme/l\u00easthe, deuo/menon gera/\u00f4n m\u00ea\\ maranei=sthe\nta/phon; alla\\ parastei/chontes \u00ea\\ ou/noma kleino\\n homart\u00ea=|\nb\u00f4stre/et' \u00ea\\ rhadina\\s sumpatagei=te che/ras~. Those who are thus\ncharged answer, ~prosenne/p\u00f4 Stra/t\u00f4na kai\\ tim\u00f4= kro/t\u00f4|~.]\n\n[26\\15: Often represented on Attic _lekythoi_: Pottier, _Les\nl\u00e9cythes blancs_, p. 57.]\n\n[27\\15: The gods and their statues are honoured in this way: Sittl,\n_Geb\u00e4rden_, p. 182.]\n\n[28\\15: ~belti/ones kai\\ krei/ttones~, Arist., _Eudem. fr._ 37\n[44].]\n\n[29\\15: ~chr\u00eastou\\s _poiei=n_~ euphemism for ~apoktinnu/nai~ in a\ntreaty between Tegea and Sparta: Arist., _fr._ 542 [592]. They\n_become_ ~chr\u00eastoi/~ only after death. This ancient and evidently\npopular expression gives far stronger grounds for believing that\n~chr\u00easto/s~ applied to the dead than does the passage from Thphr.,\n_Ch. _x, 16 (xiii, 3), for the opposite view (the ~peri/ergos~\nwrites on a tombstone that a dead woman and her family ~chr\u00eastoi\\\n\u00ea=san~, which Loch concludes that the word really \"denotes a quality\nof the living and not of the dead\", op. cit., 281). It is possible\nat the same time that those who used such words did not mean\nanything special by their ~chr\u00easte\\ chai=re~, and at any rate only\nthought of it as a vague adjective of praise. But that was not its\nreal meaning.]\n\n[30\\15: ~chr\u00easte\\ chai=re~ and the like, with or without ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~,\nare very commonly met with on epitaphs from Thessaly, Boeotia, the\ncountries of Asia Minor (and Cyprus as well: cf. _BCH._ 1896, pp.\n343-6; 353-6). On {556} Attic graves the use of the title\n~chr\u00easto/s~ seems to be confined to foreigners and those mostly\nslaves (see Keil, _Jahrb. Phil._ suppl. iv, 628; Gutscher, _Att.\nGrabinschr._ i, p. 24; ii, p. 13).]\n\n[31\\15: With Gutscher, op. cit., i, 24; ii, 39.--From the fact that\nin Attica this word does not seem to be given to natives no\nconclusion is to be drawn as to the opinions held by the Athenians\nabout their dead (as though they thought of them with less respect).\nThe word was simply not traditional in this sense in Attica. On the\nother hand, the word ~makari/t\u00eas~ was specifically Attic as applied\nto the dead (see above, ch. vii, n. 10), and this provides\nunmistakable evidence that the conception of the dead as \"blessed\"\nwas current also in Attica.]\n\n[32\\15: ~chr\u00east\u00f4=n _the\u00f4=n_~, Hdt. viii, 111.--~ho h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~\n(Protesilaos), ~chr\u00easto\\s \u00f4/n, xugch\u00f4rei=~ that people should sit\ndown in his ~te/menos~: Philostr., _Her._ p. 134, 4 Ks.--Other modes\nof address intended to mollify the dead are ~a/lupe, chr\u00easte\\ kai\\\na/lupe, a/riste, a/mempte~, etc. ~chai=re~ (cf. _Inscr. Cos_, 165,\n263, 279, and Loch, op. cit., 281).]\n\n[33\\15: Paus. 4, 27, 6.]\n\n[34\\15: Paus. 4, 32, 4.]\n\n[35\\12: Paus. 9, 13, 5-6. Sacrifice (~ente/mnein~) of a white mare\nto the Heroines: Plu., _Pelop._ 20-2. The same thing is briefly\nreferred to in Xen., _HG._ 6, 4, 7; see also D.S. xv, 54. Detailed\naccount of the fate of the maidens ap. Plu., _Narr. Amor._ 3;\nJerome, _a. Jovin._ i, 41 (ii, 1, 308 D Vall.).--~hai Leu/ktron\nthugate/res~, Plu., _Herod. Mal._ ii, p. 856 F.]\n\n[36\\15: ~Le\u00f4ni/deia~ in Sparta (_CIG._ 1421) at which there were\n\"speeches\" about Leonidas (even in Sparta not a surprising\ncircumstance at this late period), and an ~ag\u00f4/n~ in which only\nSpartiates might take part: Paus. 3, 14, 1.--~ag\u00f4nisa/menoi to\\n\nepita/phio[n Le\u00f4ni/dou] kai\\ Pausani/[ou kai\\ t\u00f4=n loi]p\u00f4=n h\u00ear\u00f4/\u00f4[n\nag\u00f4=na]~, _CIG._ 1417.]\n\n[37\\15: At Marathon: crowning and ~enagismo/s~ at the\n~polua/ndreion~ of the Marathonian Heroes carried out by the\n_epheboi_: _CIA._ ii, 471, 26. Cf. more generally Aristid. ii, p.\n229 f. Dind. Nocturnal fighting of the ghosts there: Paus. 1, 32, 4\n(the oldest prototype of the similar legends told, in connexion with\nthe story of the battle between the dead Huns and Romans, by\nDamasc., _V. Isid._ 63).]\n\n[38\\15: ~a/ndras] eth' h\u00ea/r\u00f4as se/betai patri/s ktl.~, _Inscr. Cos_,\n350 (beginning of Empire).]\n\n[39\\15: Speaking of the Attic tragedians, D. Chr. thinks (15, p. 237\nM. = ii, 235 Arn.) ~hou\\s ekei=noi apodeiknu/ousin h\u00ea/r\u00f4as tou/tois\nphai/nontai enagi/zontes (hoi He/ll\u00eanes) h\u00f4s h\u00ea/r\u00f4sin, kai\\ ta\\\nh\u00ear\u00f4=|a ekei/nois \u00f4|kodom\u00eame/na idei=n e/stin~. But this is only\ntrue in a very limited and qualified sense.]\n\n[40\\15: ~He/ktori e/ti thu/ousin en Ili/\u00f4|~, says Luc. (expressly\nspeaking of his own times), _D. Conc._ 12. Apparition of Hektor in\nTroad: Max. Tyr. 15, 7, p. 283 R. Miracles worked: Philostr., _Her._\npass. Hekt. in Thebes: Lyc. 1204 ff.]\n\n[41\\15: In the ~H\u00ear\u00f4iko\\s~ Philostratos gives plenty of evidence of\nthis. Most of what he says about the Heroes of the Trojan war is\nentirely without traditional basis, but not all of it: and\nespecially where he speaks (in the first part of the dialogue) of the\nappearances and displays of power attributed in his own day to the\nHeroes he is far from inventing. (His powers of invention are\nexercised particularly in what he says about the events of their\nlives where he is expanding or correcting Homer.) Acc. To Philostr.\n(_Her._ 681, p. 149, 32 ff. Kays., 1871) ~hor\u00f4=ntai~--at least by\nthe shepherds of the Trojan plain--the figures of the Homeric\nchampions (gigantic in size, pp. 136-40 [667]; ~phai/nontai~ in full\narmour, {557} p. 131, 1). Hektor in particular appears, works\nmiracles, and his statue ~polla\\ erga/zetai chr\u00easta\\ koin\u00ea=| te kai\\\nes he/na~, pp. 151-2. Legend about Antilochos, p. 155, 10 ff.\nPalamedes appears, p. 154. On the south coast of the Troad opposite\nLesbos he has an ancient temple in which ~thu/ousin~ to him\n~xunio/ntes hoi ta\\s aktai/as oikou=ntes po/leis~, p. 184, 21 (see\nalso _V. Ap._ iv, 13). Sacrifice to Palamedes as a Hero, 153, 29\nff.--_Mantic_ power attributed to the ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4es~, 135, 21 ff.; 148,\n20 ff. (to Odysseus in Ithaca, 195, 5 ff.). Hence Protesilaos in\nparticular, who appears at Elaious in Thrac. Chers. to the\nvineyard-keeper into whose mouth Philostr. puts his story, has so\nmuch to say even about what he had not himself seen or experienced.\nProtes. is still fully alive (~z\u00ea=|~, 130, 23); like Achilles (in\nLeuke, etc.) he has his ~hieroi\\ dro/moi en hoi=s gumna/zetai~ (131,\n31). A vision of Protes. appearing to an enemy makes him blind (132,\n9). (To meet a Hero often blinds a mortal, cf. Hdt. vi, 117, and the\ncase of Stesichoros and the Dioskouroi.) He protects his prot\u00e9g\u00e9's\nfields from snakes, wild beasts, and everything harmful: 132, 15 ff.\nHe himself is now ~en Ha/idou~ (when he is with Laodameia), now in\nPhthia, and now in the Troad (143, 17 ff.). He appears about midday\n(143, 21, 32; cf. Append. vi). At his ancient oracle at Elaious\n(mentioned already by Hdt. ix, 116, 120; alluded to by Philostr., p.\n141, 12) he dispenses oracles more particularly to the champions of\nthe great games, the heroes of the age (p. 146, 13 ff., 24 ff., 147,\n8 ff., 15 ff.; famous contemporaries are mentioned: Eudaimon of\nAlexandria, victor at Olympia in Ol. 237, and Helix well-known from\nthe ~Gumnastiko/s~). He heals diseases, esp. consumption, dropsy,\nophthalmia, and ague, and he helps people in the pains of love (p.\n147, 30 ff.). Prot. also gives oracles in his Phthiotic home Phylake\n(where he pays frequent visits), 148, 24 ff.--It is the regular\nseries of miraculous performances normally attributed to the\n~h\u00ea/r\u00f4es~ of older legends, that Protesilaos carries out here.--On\nMt. Ismaros in Thrace Maron (~Euanthe/os huio/s~, _Od._ ~i~ 197)\nappears and ~hora=tai toi=s ge\u00f4rgoi=s~ to whom he sends rain (149, 3\nff.). Mt. Rhodope in Thrace is haunted (~oikei=~) by Rhesos, who\nlives there a life of chivalry, breeding horses, practising his\nweapons, and hunting; the woodland animals offer themselves\nwillingly as sacrifices at his altar; the _heros_ keeps the plague\naway from the surrounding ~k\u00f4=mai~ (149, 7-19).--The legendary\ndetails from Philostratos here selected for mention may be taken as\nreally derived from popular tradition (cf. also W. Schmid, _D.\nAtticismus_, iv, 572 ff.).]\n\n[42\\15: Again in 375 A.D. Achilles preserved Attica from an\nearthquake (Zosim. iv, 18); in 396 he kept Alaric away from Athens;\nib., v, 6.]\n\n[43\\15: Plu., _Lucull._ 23; App., _Mithr._ 83. Lucullus was Roman\nenough to carry off from the inhabitants of Sinope their\nmuch-honoured statue of Autolykos, to which the elaborate cult was\nprincipally attached: ~eti/m\u00f4n~ Autol. ~h\u00f4s theo/n. \u00ea=n de\\ kai\\\n_mantei=on_ autou=~, _Str._ 546.]\n\n[44\\15: See above, chap. iv, nn. 119-20.--_Heroon_ of Kyniska\n(sister of Agesilaos) in Sparta as victor at Olympos: Paus. 3, 15,\n1.]\n\n[45\\15: Hero-physicians: see above, chap. iv, \u00a7 10. Our knowledge of\nthe cult and activity of these Heroes is chiefly derived from\nevidence from later times.--An evidently late creation is the Hero\nNeryllinos in the Troad, of whose worship, healing, and prophetic\npowers Athenag., _Apol._ 26, has something to say (Lob. _Agl._\n1171). ~ho xe/nos iatro/s~, Toxaris, in Athens: Luc., _Scyth._ 1; 2.\n(The special name of the ~xe/nos iatro/s~ may be Lucian's invention,\nbut not what he tells us of his cult.) There was a permanent cult of\nHippokrates in Kos in the time of Soranos: the Koans offered\nsacrifice to him (~enagi/zein~) annually on his birthday {558} (see\nabove, chap. v, n. 89): Soran. ap. Anon., _V. Hipp._ 450, 13 West.\n(miracle at the tomb of Hipp. in Larisa: ib., 451, 55 ff.). The\ndoctor in Luc., _Philops._ 21, makes an elaborate sacrifice\n(something more than ~enagi/zein~) annually to his bronze statue of\nHipp.--A good story thoroughly in the manner of popular folk-lore is\nthat told of Pellichos the Corinthian general who was also\nworshipped as giving help in sickness and the magic tricks that he\n(simply as ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~) was able to play on the Libyan slave who had\nstolen the gold pieces which used to be offered to him: Luc.,\n_Philops._ 18-20.]\n\n[46\\15: _Anth. Pal._ vii, 694 (~Addai/ou~, probably the\nMacedonian).]\n\n[47\\15: _CIG._ 4838b (see above, chap. iv, n. 60). The name\nexpresses the idea: ~euo/dei~ was the greeting which the dead man\nreturned to the traveller, _CIG._ 1956.]\n\n[48\\15: Another example: bulls are still sacrificed in Megara in the\nfourth century A.D. officially by the city to the Heroes who had\nfallen in the Persian wars, _IG. Sept._ i, 53.]\n\n[49\\15: At the monument of Philopoimen, Plu., _Philop._ 21.]\n\n[50\\15: ~en toi=s H\u00ear\u00f4\u00efkoi=s kai\\ en tai=s a/llais heortai=s~--in\nPriansos and Hierapytna in Crete (third century B.C.), _CIG._ 2556,\n37. Annual festival of the ~H\u00ear\u00f4=|a~, in which were held\n~eucharist\u00ea/rioi ag\u00f4=nes~ for Asklepiades and those who had fought\nwith him in one of the city's wars. A decree honouring the grandsons\nof this Asklep. has been found at Eski-Manyas near Kyzikos: _Ath.\nMitt._ 1884, p. 33.]\n\n[51\\15: In taking an oath they swore by the gods ~kai\\ h\u00ea/r\u00f4as kai\\\nh\u00ear\u00f4a/ssas~ (Dreros in Crete): Cauer, _Delect._^1 38 A, 31 (third\ncentury B.C.). Treaty between Rhodos and Hierapytna (second century\nB.C.), Cauer, 44, 3: ~eu/xasthai t\u00f4=| Hali/\u00f4| kai\\ ta=| Rho/d\u00f4| kai\\\ntoi=s a/llois theoi=s pa=si kai\\ pa/sais kai\\ toi=s archage/tais\nkai\\ toi=s h\u00ea/r\u00f4si, ho/soi e/chonti ta\\n po/lin kai\\ ta\\n ch\u00f4/ran\nta\\n Rhodi/\u00f4n . . .~ Oath of citizenship from Chersonnesos (third\ncentury), _Sitzb. Berl. Akad._ 1892, p. 480: ~omnu/\u00f4 . . . h\u00ea/r\u00f4as\nho/soi po/lin kai\\ ch\u00f4/ran kai\\ teu/ch\u00ea e/chonti ta\\\nChersonasita=n~.--Similar exx. from earlier times: see above, chap.\niv, n. 4 (and cf. Din., _Dem._ 64: ~martu/romai . . . kai\\ tou\\s\nh\u00ea/r\u00f4as tou\\s egch\u00f4ri/ous ktl.~).]\n\n[52\\15: e.g. inscr. from Astypalaia _BCH._ 1891, p. 632 (n. 4):\nDamatrios son of Hippias dedicates a fountain and trees ~theoi=s\nh\u00ea/r\u00f4si/ te . . . athlopho/rou te/chnas antididou\\s cha/rita~.--A\ngrave is dedicated ~theoi=s h\u00ea/r\u00f4si~, _CIG._ 3272 (Smyrna), i.e.\nprobably ~th. kai\\ h\u00ea/r\u00f4si~ (cf. ~theoi=s dai/mosi~, 5827. etc.).]\n\n[53\\15: Collegia of ~h\u00ear\u00f4istai/~: Foucart. _Assoc. relig._ 230 (49),\n233 (56). _CIA._ ii, 630. In Boeotia, _Ath. Mitt._ 3, 299 = _IG.\nSept._ i, 2725.]\n\n[54\\15: e g. inscr. on one of the seats in the theatre at Athens:\n~hiere/\u00f4s Ana/koin kai\\ h\u00ea/r\u00f4os epitegi/ou~, _CIA._ iii, 290.]\n\n[55\\15: ~diame/nousi de\\ kai\\ es to/de t\u00f4=| Ai/anti par' Ath\u00eanai/ois\ntimai/, aut\u00f4=| te kai\\ Eurusa/kei~, Paus. 1, 35, 3 (~Aia/nteia~ in\nSalamis in first century B.C., _CIA._ ii, 467-71). ~enagi/zousi de\\\nkai\\ es h\u00eama=s e/ti t\u00f4=| Phor\u00f4nei=~ (in Argos), 2, 20, 3. ~kai/ hoi~\n(Theras) ~kai\\ nu=n e/ti hoi Th\u00earai=oi kat' e/tos enagi/zousin h\u00f4s\noikist\u00ea=|~, 3, 1, 8. He also bears witness to the still surviving\ncult of Pandion as Hero in Megara, 1, 41, 6; Tereus in Megara, 1, 41,\n9; Melampous in Aigosthena, 1, 44, 5; Aristomenes in Messenia, 4,\n14, 7; Aitolos in Elis (~enagi/zei ho _gumnasi/archos_ e/ti kai\\ es\neme\\ kath' he/kaston e/tos t\u00f4=| Ait\u00f4l\u00f4=|~, 5, 4, 4; cf. the\n~gumnasi/archos~ who looks after the ~ekkomidai/~: above, this\nchap., n. 4); Sostratos the ~er\u00f4/menos~ of Herakles in Dyme, 7, 17,\n8; Iphikles in Phenea, 8, 14, 9; the boys slain at Kaphyai, 8, 23,\n6-7; the four lawgivers of Tegea, 8, 48, 1; the ~Eusebei=s~ in\nKatana, 10, 28, 4-5.--Of course, it does not follow that when Paus.\nmentions other very numerous Heroes without so {559} expressly\nsaying that their cult still survived, he means that those cults had\ndied out.]\n\n[56\\15: Plu., _Aristid._ 21.]\n\n[57\\15: Aratos received from the Achaeans after his death ~thusi/an\nkai\\ tima\\s h\u00ear\u00f4ika/s~ in which he may take pleasure himself ~ei/per\nkai\\ peri\\ tou\\s apoichome/nous e/sti tis ai/sth\u00easis~, Polyb. 8, 14,\n8. He was buried at Sikyon, as ~oikist\u00ea\\s kai\\ s\u00f4t\u00ea\\r t\u00ea=s po/le\u00f4s~,\nin a ~to/pos peri/optos~ called the ~Ara/teion~ (cf. Paus. 2, 8, 1;\n9, 4). Sacrifice was made to him twice a year, on the day when he\nhad freed Sikyon, 5th Daisios, the ~S\u00f4t\u00ea/ria~, and on his birthday;\nthe former was carried out by the priest of Zeus Soter, the latter\nby the priest of Aratos. They included: Hymn by the Dionysiac\n~techni=tai~, procession of ~pai=des~ and ~e/ph\u00eaboi~ in which the\n_gymnasiarchoi_, the _boule_ wearing crowns, and the citizens took\npart. Of all this only ~dei/gmata mikra/~ still survived in\nPlutarch's time, ~hai de\\ plei=stai t\u00f4=n tim\u00f4=n hupo\\ chro/nou kai\\\npragma/t\u00f4=n a/ll\u00f4n ekleloi/pasin~, Plu., _Arat._ 53 (~s\u00f4t\u00ea/r~: cf.\nepigram in c. 14).]\n\n[58\\15: ~pa/ntes h\u00ea/r\u00f4as nomi/zousi tou\\s spho/dra palaiou\\s\na/ndras, kai\\ ea\\n m\u00eade\\n exai/reton e/ch\u00f4si, di' auto\\n oi=mai to\\n\nchro/non~. But only a few of them have regular ~teleta\\s h\u00ear\u00f4/\u00f4n~:\nD. Chr. 31, p. 335 M. [i, 243 Arn.]. omnes qui patriam conservarint,\nadiuverint, auxerint become immortal: Cic., _Som. Sci._ 3, which\nalso goes too far.]\n\n[59\\15: Pelopidas, Timoleon, Leosthenes, Aratos become Heroes: see\nKeil, _Anal. epigr. et onom._ 50-4. Kleomenes Plu., _Cleom._ 39.\nPhilopoimen, _Philop._ 21. ~iso/theoi timai/~ annual sacrifice of a\nbull and hymns of praise to Philop. sung by the ~neoi/~: D.S. 29,\n18; Liv. 39, 50, 9; _SIG._ 289. See Keil, op. cit., 9 ff.]\n\n[60\\15: In Sikyon Aratos is held to be the son of Asklepios who had\nvisited his mother in the form of a snake: Paus. 2, 10, 3; 4, 14,\n7-8 (favourite form of stories of divine parentage: see Marx,\n_M\u00e4rchen v. dankb. Thieren_, 122, 2).]\n\n[61\\15: The very charming and characteristic story of Drimakos, the\nleader and law-giver of the ~drape/tai~ in Chios, is told by\nNymphodoros (ap. Ath. vi, c. 88-90), as having happened ~mikro\\n\npro\\ h\u00eam\u00f4=n~. He had a ~h\u00ear\u00f4=|on~ in which he was honoured under the\nname of ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s eumen\u00ea/s~ (by the ~drape/tai~ with the firstfruits\nof their plunder). He frequently appeared to masters to whom he\nrevealed the ~oiket\u00f4=n epiboula/s~.]\n\n[62\\15: Hsch. ~Gathia/das; h\u00ea/r\u00f4os o/noma, ho\\s kai\\ tou\\s\nkatapheu/gontas eis auto\\n rhu/etai [kai\\] thana/tou~.]\n\n[63\\15: Pixodaros, a shepherd of Ephesos, discovered in a strange\nfashion a very excellent kind of marble, a discovery which he\ncommunicated to the authorities (for use in temple-building). He was\nmade a Hero and renamed ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s eua/ggelos~: sacrifice was made to\nhim officially every month, _hodieque_, Vitruv. x, 2.]\n\n[64\\15: Luc., Macrob. 21 (for Athenod. see _FHG._ iii, 485 f.).--In\nKos an _exedra_ in the theatre was dedicated to C. Stertinius\nXenophon (court-physician to the Emp. Claudius) ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4i~, _Inscr.\nCos_, 93.--In Mitylene there was even an apotheosis of the historian\nTheophanes (the friend of Pompeius: cf. ~Gn. Pomp\u00ea/ios Hieroi/ta\nhuio\\s Theopha/n\u00eas~ with full name, _Ath. Mitt._ ix, 87): Tac., _A._\nvi, 18. ~Theopha/n\u00eas theo\\s~ on coins of the city, and cf. ~Se/xston\nh\u00ea/r\u00f4a, Lesb\u00f4=nax h\u00ea/r\u00f4s ne/os~, etc., on the same city's coins\n(Head, _Hist. Num._ 488).]\n\n[65\\15: On a _stele_ in Messene there was a portrait of a certain\nAithidas of the beginning of the third century B.C.; instead of whom\na descendant of the same name is worshipped: Paus. 4, 32, 2. In the\nmarket place of Mantinea stood a _heroon_ of Podares who had {560}\ndistinguished himself in the battle of Mant. (362). Three\ngenerations before Paus. visited the place the Mantineans had\naltered the inscription on the _heroon_ and dedicated it to a later\nPodares, a descendant of the original one, who lived in the Roman\nperiod: Paus. 8, 9, 9.]\n\n[66\\15: Cf. Keil, _Anal. Epigr._ 62.]\n\n[67\\15: Cult paid to king Lysimachos in his lifetime in Samothrake,\n_SIG._ 190 (_Arch\u00e4ol. Unters. auf. Samoth._ ii, 85, n. 2).\n\"Heroizing\" of Diogenes _phrourarchos_ of Demetrios; in 229 B.C. he\nwas bribed by Aratos to lead the Macedonian garrison out of Attica:\nsee K\u00f6hler, _Hermes_, vii, 1 ff.--~hupe\\r ta=s Niki/a tou= da/mou\nhuiou=, philopa/tridos, _h\u00ea/r\u00f4os_, euerge/ta de\\ ta=s po/lios,\ns\u00f4t\u00eari/as~ a dedication ~theoi=s patr\u00f4=|ois~, _Inscr. Cos_, 76. This\nis a decree made in the lifetime of the _heros_ (or why\n~s\u00f4t\u00eari/as~?), who is probably identical, as the editors suggest,\nwith Nikias, tyrant of Kos in the Strabo's time: _Str._ 658;\nPerizonius on Ael., _VH._ i, 29.]\n\n[68\\15: ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~ applied to a living person occasionally on inss. of\nthe Imperial age, _CIG._ 2583, Lyttos, Crete; 3665 ~h\u00ear\u00f4i/s~,\nliving, Kyzikos second century; _Ath. Mitt._ vi, 121 (Kyzikos again)\n~hipparchou=ntos Kleome/nous h\u00ea/r\u00f4os~ also certainly living.]\n\n[69\\15: When Demetrios Poliorketes conquered and rebuilt Sikyon in\n303 the inhabitants of the city which is now called \"Demetrias\"\noffer to him while still alive, sacrifice, festival, and annual\n~ag\u00f4=nes~ as ~kti/st\u00ea| (alla\\ tau=ta me\\n ho chro/nos \u00eaku/r\u00f4sen~):\nD.S. 20, 102, 3. Later this frequently occurred: Marcellea,\nLucullea, etc., are well known. But the matter did not stop there.\nThe inhabitants of Lete in Macedonia in the year 117 B.C. decree to\na prominent Roman, besides other honours, ~ti/thesthai aut\u00f4=| ag\u00f4=na\nhippiko\\n kat' he/tos en t\u00f4=| Daisi/\u00f4| m\u00eani/, ho/tan kai\\ toi=s\na/llois euerge/tais hoi ag\u00f4=nes epitel\u00f4=ntai~ (_Arch. des miss.\nscientif._ 3e s\u00e9rie, iii, p. 278, n. 127). This implies that all\n~euerge/tai~ were by custom offered such games at this time.]\n\n[70\\15: D.S. 17, 115. Alexander after inquiry at the oracle of Ammon\ncommanded that he should be worshipped as ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~ (the oracle\nhaving granted in his case ~enagi/zein h\u00f4s h\u00ea/r\u00f4i~, but not ~h\u00f4s\nthe\u00f4=| thu/ein~): Arrian, _An._ 7, 14, 7; 23, 6; Plu., _Alex._ 72\n(an ~h\u00ear\u00f4=|on~ was immediately set up to him in Alexandria Aeg.:\nArr. 7, 23, 7). This did not prevent the superstition and servility\nwhich flourished together in Alexander's empire from occasionally\nworshipping Heph. as ~H\u00eaphaisti/\u00f4n theo\\s pa/redros~.--D.S. probably\nonly exaggerates the truth: 17, 115, 6; cf. Luc., _Calumn._ 17-18.\n(The new _heros_ or god immediately gave proof of his power by\nappearances, visions sent in dreams, ~ia/mata, mantei=ai~, ib.\n17.)--Elaborate pomp at the funeral of Dem. Poliork.: Plu.,\n_Demetr._ 53.]\n\n[71\\15: Cf. the Testament of Epikteta and other foundations\nmentioned above, this chap., n. 18, and chap. v, n. 126. Or cf. the\nelaborate arrangements which Herodes Atticus made for the funeral,\netc., of Regilla and Polydeukes (but ~_h\u00ea/r\u00f4s_ Poludeuki/\u00f4n~ is only\nsaid in the weakened sense in which ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~ had been current for a\nlong time): collected by Keil in Pauly-Wiss. i, 2101 ff. The\nextravagant manifestations of grief that Cicero offered to the\nmemory of his daughter were modelled on Greek originals (and upon\nthe certainly Greek auctores qui dicant fieri id oportere: _Att._\n12, 81, 1). In _Att._ 12 he gives an account of their architectural\nside: he frequently calls the object that he meditates an\n~apothe/\u00f4sis~; cf. _consecrabo te_ (_Consol. fr._ 5 Or.).--Cf. the\nTemple-tomb of Pomptilla, who like another Alkestis died instead of\nher husband, whom she followed into exile as far as Sardinia: her\ndeath was caused by breathing in the breath of the sick man. Her\n{561} temple is at Cagliari in Sardinia, and is adorned with many\ninss. in Latin and Greek: _IG. Sic. et It._ 607, p. 144 ff. (first\ncentury A.D.).]\n\n[72\\15: ~ho da=mos~ (occasionally also ~ha boula\\ kai\\ ho da=mos)\naph\u00ear\u00f4/\u00efxe~--Thera, _CIG._ 2467; Ross, _Inscr. Gr. Ined._ 203 ff.\n(and sometimes outside Thera: Loch, _Zu d. gr. Grabschr._ 282, 1)\n~ho da=mos eti/mase (to\\n dei=na) . . . h\u00ea/r\u00f4a~. Cf. also (Thera)\n_Ath. Mitt._ xvi, 166; _Epigr. Gr._ 191-2.]\n\n[73\\15: ~phronti/sai de\\ tou\\s orge\u00f4=nas~ (the members of a\n_collegium_ of Dionysiasts) ~ho/p\u00f4s aph\u00ear\u00f4isthei= Dionu/sios kai\\\nanatethei= en t\u00f4=| hier\u00f4=| para\\ to\\n theo/n, ho/pou kai\\ ho pat\u00ea\\r\nautou=, hi/na hupa/rchei ka/lliston hupo/mn\u00eama autou= eis to\\n\nha/panta chro/non~, inscr. of Peiraeus, second century B.C.; _CIA._\niv, 2, n. 623e, 45 ff. In Argos a guild, apparently of tanners, puts\nup an inscr. ~t\u00f4=| dei=ni, kti/sta| h\u00ea/r\u00f4i~, _CIG._ 1134.]\n\n[74\\15: Like that Naulochos whom Philios of Salamis saw three times\nin a dream appearing in company with Demeter and Kore. The city of\nPriene thereupon ordered that he should be worshipped (~h\u00ea/r\u00f4a\nse/bein~, _Epigr. Gr._ 774).]\n\n[75\\15: ~Ka/rpos ta\\n idi/an gunai=ka aph\u00ear\u00f4/\u00efxe~ (Thera) _CIG._\n2471. From the same place come many more exx. of ~aph\u00ear\u00f4i/zein~ by\nmembers of a family: 2472b-d, 2473; cf. ~Androsthe/n\u00ean Phi/l\u00f4nos\nne/on h\u00ea/r\u00f4a . . . h\u00ea m\u00ea/t\u00ear~ (Macedonia) _Arch. miss. scient._ iii,\n1876, 295, n. 130.--This is probably how we should understand the\nmatter when in sepulchral epigrams one member of the family\naddresses or refers to another as ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~: _Epigr. Gr._ 483, 510,\n552, 674.--But ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s suggenei/as~, _CIA._ iii, 1460, must have a\nfuller sense than the otherwise usual ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~. It distinguishes a\ntrue ~arch\u00eage/t\u00eas~. Prob. this is also the meaning of ~Charmu/lou\nh\u00ea/r\u00f4os t\u00f4=n Charmulei/\u00f4n~, _GDI._ 3701 (Kos). Something more than\nsimple ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~ is also probably intended by the language of the\nPergamene inscr. (specially distorted to suit the ~isops\u00eaphi/a~)\n_Inscr. Perg._ ii, 587, ~I. Niko/d\u00eamos, ho kai\\ Ni/k\u00f4n (a|phig)\nagatho\\s ei=en a\\n h\u00ea/r\u00f4s (a|phig)~.]\n\n[76\\15: It is true that it is difficult to find certain exx. of the\nidentification of a dead man with an already existing and honoured\n_heros_ of another name. Of the various examples generally quoted\nfor this perhaps the only relevant is the Spartan inscr.\n~Aristokl\u00ea=s ho kai\\ Z\u00ea=thos~, _Ath. Mitt._ iv, _tab._ 8, 2.\nIdentification with a god is of frequent occurrence: cf. imagines\ndefuncti, quas ad habitum dei Liberi formaverat (uxor), divinis\npercolens honoribus: Apul., _M._ viii, 7. (Cf. Lob., _Agl._ 1002,\nwho also thinks of the example given in the ~Pr\u00f4tesi/laos~ of Eur.;\nbut the resemblance is only a distant one.) The dead man as\n~Ba/kchos~, _Epigr. Gr._ 821; ~Dionu/sou a/galma~, ib. 705; cf. the\ndead man of _CIG._ 6731, ~a/galma eimi H\u00eali/ou~. Many similar exx.\nof the representation of the dead in accordance with the types of\nDionysos, Asklepios, Hermes are given by Ross, _Arch\u00e4ol. Aufs._ i,\n51; Deneken in Roscher, _Lex._ i, 2588.]\n\n[77\\15: See above, chap. iv, p. 128 ff.]\n\n[78\\15: See Keil, _Syll. Inscr. Boeot._, p. 153.]\n\n[79\\15: In Thespiai the inss. do not show the addition of ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~\nto the name of the dead until Imperial times: see Dittenberger on\n_IG. Sept._ i, 2110, p. 367.]\n\n[80\\15: Many exx. of ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s, h\u00ea/r\u00f4s chr\u00easte\\ chai=re~, etc., are\ncollected and arranged by Deneken in Roscher's _Lex._ s. _Heros_, i,\n2549 ff. See also Loch, _Gr. Grabschr._, p. 282 ff.]\n\n[81\\15: As Keil has already observed, loc. cit. [n. 78].--At any\nrate ~h\u00ear\u00f4i/n\u00ea~ still preserves its full sense when the council and\npeople of Athens, in the first century A.D., so describe a woman of\nposition after her death, _CIA._ iii, 889. Or again, when the\nAthenian as well as the {562} Spartan decree calls P. Statilius\nLamprias expressly ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~ (see above, n. 6)--_Fouilles d'Epid._ i,\nn. 205-9.]\n\n[82\\15: It is curious how, much later, in Christian times, ~ho\nh\u00ea/r\u00f4s~ is applied to one who has recently died (exactly synonymous\nwith ~ho makari/t\u00eas~): cf. ~ho h\u00ea/r\u00f4s Eudo/xios, ho h\u00ea/r\u00f4s\nPatri/kios, Ia/mblichos~ in _Schol. Basilic._]\n\n[83\\15: ~hu/pnos e/chei se ma/kar . . . , kai\\ z\u00ea=|s h\u00f4s h\u00ea/r\u00f4s kai\\\nne/kus ouk ege/nou~, _Epigr. Gr._ 433; where it is evident that the\n~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~ is something more living than the mere ~ne/kus. aspa/zesth'\nh\u00ea/r\u00f4a, to\\n ouk edama/ssato lu/p\u00ea~ (i.e. who has not been made\nnothing by death), ib., 296. The husband ~timai=s iso/moiron e/th\u00eake\nta\\n homo/lektron h\u00ea/r\u00f4sin~, 189, 3. The title ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~ still has a\nstronger and deeper sense in inss. such as _CIG._ 1627 (referring to\na descendent of Plutarch's) and 4058 (~. . . a/ndra philo/logon kai\\\npa/s\u00ea| aret\u00ea=| kekosm\u00eame/non eudai/mona h\u00ea/r\u00f4a~). Cf. Orig., _Cels._\n3, 80, p. 359 Lom.: ~hoi biou=ntes h\u00f4=sth' h\u00ea/r\u00f4es gene/sthai kai\\\nmeta\\ the\u00f4=n he/xein ta\\s diatriba/s~. In 3, 22, p. 276, he\ndistinguishes between ~theoi/, h\u00ea/r\u00f4es, hapaxapl\u00f4=s psuchai/~ (the\nsoul can divina _fieri_ et a legibus mortalitatis educi, Arnob. ii,\n62; cf. Corn. Labeo ap. Serv., _Aen._ iii, 168).]\n\n[84\\15: ~a/\u00f4roi, biotha/natoi, a/taphoi~ see Append.\nvii.--~tha/ptein kai\\ hosiou=n t\u00ea=| G\u00ea=|~, significantly, Philostr.,\n_Her._ 714, p. 182, 9 f. K.]\n\n[85\\15: Plu., _Dio_, 2: some say that only children and women and\nfoolish men see ghosts, ~dai/mona pon\u00earo\\n en autoi=s\ndeisidaimoni/an e/chontes~. Plu. on the other hand thinks that he\ncan confound the unbelieving by pointing to the fact that even Dio\nand Brutus had seen ~pha/smata~ shortly before their death.]\n\n[86\\15: Cf. the story of Philinnion and Machates in Amphipolis:\nPhleg., _Mirab._ 1. Procl. _in Rp._, p. 64 Sch. [ii, p. 116 Kr.; see\nRohde in _Rh. Mus._ 32, 329 ff.]. The Erinyes in Aesch. are\nconceived as vampire-like: _Eum._ 264 f.: see above, chap. v, n.\n161.--Souls of the dead as nightmare, ~ephia/lt\u00eas~, _incubo_\noppressing a man's enemy: Soran. ap. Tert., _An._ 44; Cael. Aurel.,\n_Morb. Chron._ 1, 3, 55 (_Rh. Mus._ 37, 467, 1).]\n\n[87\\15: The ~_Philopseud\u00ea/s_~ is a genuine treasure-house of typical\nnarratives of apparitions and sorceries of every kind. ~dai/monas\nana/gein kai\\ nekrou\\s he\u00f4/lous anakalei=n~ is a mere bagatelle,\naccording to these sage doctors, to the magician: c. 13. An example\nis given of this conjuration of the dead (the seven-months dead\nfather of Glaukias): 14. Appearance of the dead wife of Eukrates\nwhose golden sandals they had forgotten to burn with her: 27 (see\nabove, chap. i, n. 51). As a rule the only haunting ghosts are ~hai\nt\u00f4=n biai/\u00f4s apothano/nt\u00f4n psuchai/~ not those of the ~kata\\ moi=ran\napothano/nt\u00f4n~ as the learned Pythagorean instructs us, c. 29. Then\nfollows the story of the ghost of Corinth (30-1), which must be\ntaken from a widely known ghost-story, as it agrees completely in\nits circumstances with the story told with such simple candour by\nPliny (_Ep._ vii, 27). ~dai/mona/s tinas ei=nai kai\\ pha/smata kai\\\nnekr\u00f4=n _psucha\\s_ peripolei=n hupe\\r g\u00ea=s kai\\ phai/nesthai hoi=s\na\\n ethe/l\u00f4sin~ (29) is the fixed conviction of these philosophers.\nThe living too can sometimes catch a glimpse of the underworld:\n22-4. A man's soul can be detached from his body and go down to\nHades, and afterwards, again reunited to his body, relate its\nadventures. Thus the soul of Kleodemos, while his body lay in fever,\nis taken down to the lower world by a messenger but then sent back\nagain since he had been taken by mistake for his neighbour, the\nsmith Demylos: 25. This edifying narrative is certainly intended as\na parody of the similar story told in good faith by Plu. _de An.\nfr._ 1, preserved {563} ap. Eus., _PE._ 11, 36, p. 563. It is\ncertain that Plu. did not simply invent such a story; he may perhaps\nhave found it in some older collection of miraculous ~anabi\u00f4/seis~\nsuch as, for example, Chrysippos did not disdain to make. The\nprobability that Plu. got this story of mistaken identity from a\ncollection of folk-tales is made all the likelier since the same\nstory occurs again in a popular guise. Of a similar character is\nwhat Augustine has to say on the authority of Corn. Labeo: _Civ.\nDei_ 22, 28 (p. 622, 1-5 Domb.). Augustine himself, _Cur. pro Mort._\n15, tells a story exactly like that of Plu. (about Curma the\n_curialis_ and Curma the _faber ferrarius_), which, of course, is\nsupposed to happen a little before his time in Africa; and once more\nat the end of the sixth century Gregory the Great introduces a\nvision of Hell by the same formula: _Dial._ 4, 36, p. 384 AB Migne.\nThe inventive powers of ghoststory-tellers is very limited: they\nkeep on repeating the same few old and tried motifs.]\n\n[88\\15: Plu., _Dio_, 2, 55: _Cimon_, 1; _Brut._ 36 f., 48.]\n\n[89\\15: Cf. above, chap. v, n. 23; chap. ix, nn. 105 ff.]\n\n[90\\15: ~psucha\\s h\u00ear\u00f4/\u00f4n anakalei=n~ among the regular arts of the\nmagician, Cels. ap. Orig., _Cels._ 1, 68, p. 127 Lomm.]\n\n[91\\15: See Append. xii.]\n\n[92\\15: And in consequence we sometimes have the most surprising\nconfusion of the two states of being. Lucian, e.g. (in _D. Mort._\nfrequently, cf. 18, 1, 20, 2, and _Necyom._ 15, 17; _Char._ 24)\nspeaks of the dead in _Hades_ as skeletons lying one upon another,\nAiakos allowing them each one foot of earth, etc. (The Romans have\nthe same confusion of ideas: nemo tam puer est, says Sen., _Ep._ 24,\n18, ut Cerberum timeat et tenebras et larvalem habitum nudis ossibus\ncohaerentium. Cf. Prop. iv, 5, 3, Cerberus . . . ieiuno terreat ossa\nsono, etc.) There is also a confusion between the grave and Hades in\nsuch expressions as ~met' eusebe/essi _kei=sthai_~: _Epigr. Gr._\n259, 1; ~sk\u00ea=nos nu=n kei=mai Ploute/os emmela/throis~, 226, 4; cf.\nabove, chap. xii, n. 95. Such a mixture of ideas was all the more\nnatural seeing that ~Ha/id\u00eas~ also occurs as a metaphor for\n~tu/mbos~ (see below, n. 135).]\n\n[93\\15: ~ho polu\\s ho/milos hou=s idi\u00f4/tas hoi sophoi\\ kalou=sin,\nHom\u00ea/r\u00f4| kai\\ H\u00easio/d\u00f4| kai\\ toi=s a/llois muthopoioi=s peri\\\ntou/t\u00f4n peitho/menoi, to/pon tina\\ hupo\\ t\u00ea\\n g\u00ea=n bathu\\n Ha/id\u00ean\nhupeil\u00ea/phasi ktl.~, Luc., _Luct._ 2 (continued to c. 9). Plu.,\n_Suav. Viv._ 27, 1105 AB, thinks that ~ou pa/nu polloi/~ are afraid\nof Kerberos, having to fill broken pitchers and the other terrors of\nHades, as being ~m\u00eate/r\u00f4n kai\\ titth\u00f4=n do/gmata kai\\ lo/gous\nmuth\u00f4/deis~. And yet as protection against these things people are\nalways seeking ~teleta\\s kai\\ katharmou/s~.]\n\n[94\\15: See _Griech. Roman_, 261, Ettig _Acheruntica_ (_Leipz.\nStud._ 13, 251 ff.).]\n\n[95\\15: Man hopes that after death he will see ~tou\\s nu=n\nhubri/zontas hupo\\ plou/tou kai\\ duna/me\u00f4s ktl. axi/an di/k\u00ean\nti/nontas~, Plu., _Suav. V._ 28, 2, 1105 C. Reversal of earthly\nsituation in Hades: ~ta\\ pra/gmata es tou/mpalin anestramme/na;\nh\u00eamei=s me\\n ga\\r hoi pe/n\u00eates gel\u00f4=men, ani\u00f4=ntai de\\ kai\\\noim\u00f4/zousin hoi plou/sioi~, Luc., _Catapl._ 15; cf. _DM._ 15, 2; 25,\n2: ~isotimi/a, is\u00eagori/a~ in Hades and ~ho/moioi pa/ntes~. aequat\nomnes cinis; impares nascimur, pares morimur, Sen., _Ep._ 91, 16--a\nfavourite commonplace: see Gataker on M. Ant. vi, 24, p. 235 f.]\n\n[96\\15: How far indeed this really happened is of course not to be\nanswered decisively. The Celsus against whom Origen wrote his\npolemical treatise looks at the matter from the popular point of\nview on the whole. (He is no Epicurean as Orig. supposes; but\nneither in fact is he a professional philosopher of any kind, but\nrather {564} an ~idi\u00f4/t\u00eas~ with inclinations to philosophy of all\nsorts and esp. to the semi-Platonism current at the time.) He\ndistinctly says ~m\u00ea/te tou/tois~ (the Christians) ~ei/\u00ea m\u00ea/t' emoi\\\nm\u00ea/t' a/ll\u00f4| tini\\ anthr\u00f4/p\u00f4n apothe/sthai to\\ peri\\ tou=\nkolasth\u00ea/sesthai tou\\s adi/kous kai\\ ger\u00f4=n axi\u00f4th\u00ea/sesthai tou\\s\ndikai/ous do/gma~ (ap. Orig., _Cels._ 3, 16, p. 270 Lomm.).--On the\nother hand, it is significant of the temper of the very \"secular\"\nGraeco-Roman society which was at the head of affairs at the end of\nthe last century B.C., that Cicero at the end of his work, _de Nat.\nDeor._ (iii, 81 ff.), in discussing the various means of obtaining a\nbalance between desert and punishment, virtue and reward, in the\ncircumstances of human life, never even mentions the belief in a\nfinal balance and recompense after death. (He only mentions among\nother things the visiting of the sins of the father upon his\n**descendants on earth--90 ff.--that old Greek belief [see above,\nchap. xii, n. 65] which really excludes the idea of an after life.)\nBetween the days of Cic. and those of Celsus ideas had changed. We\nknow this from innumerable indications; even the next world was\nlooked at in quite a different light in the second century A.D. from\nwhat it had been two centuries earlier.]\n\n[97\\15: ~tim\u00f4ri/ai ai\u00f4nioi hupo\\ g\u00ea=n kai\\ kolasmoi\\ phrik\u00f4/deis~\nare expected after death by many (while others regard death as\nmerely an ~agath\u00f4=n ste/r\u00easis~): Plu., _Virt. Moral._ 10, 450 A.\nHorrible tortures in the ~kolast\u00ea/rion~ in Hades, fire, scourging,\netc.: Luc., _Necyom._ 14 (carried still further in Plu.'s pictures\nof Hades, _Gen. Soc._ and _Ser. NV._). Fire, pitch, and sulphur\nbelong to the regular apparatus of this place of torment; already in\n_Axioch._ 372 A, sinners are scorched by burning torches ~a\u00efdi/ois\ntim\u00f4ri/ais~ (cf. Lehrs, _Popl. Aufs._ 308 ff.). How far such horrors\nreally represented popular belief it is difficult to say for certain\n(they became quite familiar to Christian writers on Hell from\nclassical tradition: cf. Maury, _Magie et l'astrol. dans l'antiq._\n166 ff.). But Celsus, for example, though he himself believes in the\npunishments of Hell (Orig., _Cels._ 8, 49, p. 180) only appeals in\nconfirmation of his belief to the teaching of ~ex\u00eag\u00eatai\\ telestai/\nte kai\\ mustag\u00f4goi/~ of certain (not precisely defined) ~hiera/~: 8,\n48, p. 178; cf. above, chap. vii, \u00a7 2; chap. x, n. 62.]\n\n[98\\15: See above, chap. ii, \u00a7 1.]\n\n[99\\15: Peleus, Kadmos, Achilles in the Islands of the Blest: Pi.,\n_O._ ii, 86 ff. (Peleus and Kadmos the supreme examples of\n~eudaimoni/a~: _P._ iii, 86 ff.). In Eur., _Andr._ 1254 ff. Thetis\npromises to Peleus immortal life ~N\u00eare/\u00f4s en do/mois~. An ancient\npoem must have spoken to this effect of Kadmos (and of Harmonia his\nwife); both are transported ~maka/r\u00f4n es ai=an~ Eur., _Ba._ 1338 f.;\n~poi\u00eatai/~ and ~muthogra/phoi~ ap. Sch. Pi., _P._ iii, 153 (this\nwould be after their \"death\" in Illyria where their graves were\nshown, and the snakes of stone into which they had been changed: see\nM\u00fcller on Scylax, 24, p. 31). Achilles and Diomedes are ~n\u00ea/sois en\nmaka/r\u00f4n~ acc. to the _skolion_ on Harmodios: _Carm. pop. fr._ 10\nBgk. (Thus we often hear that Achilles is in the Is. of the Blest or\nin the ~\u00calu/sion pedi/on~ which was regularly identified with\nthem--cf. ~\u00calu/sios leim\u00f4/n~ in the ~maka/r\u00f4n n\u00ea=sos~: Luc., _Jup.\nConf._ 17; _VH._ ii, 14--e.g. Pla. _Smp._ 199 E; A.R. iv, 811;\n[Apollod.] _Epit._ v, 5. His special place of abode on the island of\nLeuke is also a ~maka/r\u00f4n n\u00ea=sos~ and an older invention than the\ncommon Is. of the Blest of which we first hear in Hes., _Op._ 159\nff. Diomedes in the same way after his ~_aphanismo/s_~ enjoyed\nimmortal life in the island named after him in the Adriatic: Ibyc.\nap. Sch. Pi., _N._ x, 12; _Str._ 283-4, etc.; but the _skolion_\ntransferred him to the common dwelling-place of the blessed Heroes.)\nAchilles, sometimes in Leuke, sometimes on the Is. {565} of the\nBlest, is accompanied by his wife Medea (in Elys.: Ibyc. Simon. Sch.\nA.R. iv, 814; A.R. iv, 811 ff.) or Iphigeneia who had once been\nbetrothed to him (in Leuke: Ant. Lib. 27 after Nikand.; different\nversion by Lycophr. 183 ff.) or Helen (Paus. 3, 19, 11-13; Conon,\n18; Sch. Pl., _Phdr._ 243 A; Philostr., _Her._ 211 ff.\nKays.).--Alkmene after her _body_ had vanished from the sight of\nthose who were bearing the coffin (cf. Plu., _Rom._ 28) was\ntranslated to the ~maka/r\u00f4n n\u00ea=soi~: Ant. Lib 33 after\nPherecyd.--Neoptolemos is transported ~es \u00ealu/sion pedi/on maka/r\u00f4n\nepi\\ gai=an~, Q.S. iii, 761 ff.--Among the other Heroes there\nAgamemnon is also implied: Artemid. v, 16.--In all these fabulous\naccounts the Is. of the Blest (Elysion) remain invariably the abode\nof special and chosen Heroes (Harmodios' translation there in the\n_skolion_ is no exception; nor is Lucian's jesting reference, _VH._\nii, 17). It was only later imagination that, under the influence of\ntheology, made this kingdom of bliss the common dwelling-place of\nalmost all the ~eusebei=s~.]\n\n[100\\15: Fortunatorum memorant insulas quo cuncti qui aetatem\negerint caste suam conveniant, Plaut., _Trin._ 549 f. Menand. Rh.,\n_Encom._ 414, 16 ff. Sp., recommends the use in a ~paramuth\u00eatiko\\s\nlo/gos~ of the words: ~pei/thomai to\\n metasta/nta to\\ \u00ealu/sion\npedi/on oikei=n~ (--and even ~kai\\ ta/cha pou ma=llon meta\\ t\u00f4=n\nthe\u00f4=n diaita=tai nu=n~); cf. p. 421, 16-17 Sp. And much later,\n~cha/rin amei/psasthai auto\\n eu/chomai tou\\s theou/s, en maka/r\u00f4n\nn\u00easois \u00ea/d\u00ea suz\u00ea=n \u00eaxi\u00f4/menon~, Suid. ~Ant\u00f4/nios Alexandreu/s~ (410\nB Gaisf.) from Damascius.]\n\n[101\\15: Sertorius: Plu., _Sert._ 8-9; Sall., _H._ 1, _fr._ 61, 62;\nFlor. 2, 10 (Hor., _Epod._ 16, 39 ff.). Some even thought that they\nhad found (cf. Phoen. legends: _Gr. Roman_ 215) the ~mak. n\u00ea=s.~ off\nthe west coast of Africa: Str. i, p. 3; iii, 150; Mela, iii, 10;\nPlin., _NH._ vi, 202 ff.; Marcellus, ~Aithiop.~ ap. Procl., _in\nTim._, p. 54 F, 55 A, 56 B, etc. Islands inhabited by spirits in the\nnorth: Plu., _Def. Or._ 18, p. 419 F; _fr._ vol. v, 764 ff. Wytt.\nProcop., _Goth._ iv, 20 (the ~maka/r\u00f4n n\u00ea=soi~ are in the middle of\nthe African continent acc. to Hdt. iii, 26; in Boeot. Thebes, Lyc.\n1204 with Sch.). Ps. Callisth. makes Alex. the Great reach the land\nof the Blest, ii, 39 ff. There may have been many such fables which\nhave been parodied by Lucian in _VH._ ii, 6 ff., where he and his\ncompany ~e/ti z\u00f4=ntes hierou= ch\u00f4ri/ou epibai/nousin~ (ii, 10). It\nwas always natural to hope that at the _Antipodes_ (cf. Serv., _A._\nvi, 532) such a land of the Souls and the Blest might some day be\ndiscovered--as indeed many have thought they _had_ discovered it in\nthe progressive geographical discovery of the Middle Ages and modern\ntimes.]\n\n[102\\15: Leuke, to which already in the _Aithiopis_ Achilles had\nbeen translated, was originally a purely mythical place (see above,\np. 65), the island of the pallid shades (like the ~Leuka\\s pe/tr\u00ea~\nof _Od._ ~\u00f4~ 11, at the entrance of Hades; cf. ~k~ 515. It is the\nsame rock of Hades from which unhappy lovers cast themselves down to\ndeath, ~arthei\\s d\u00eau=t' apo\\ Leuka/dos pe/tr\u00eas ktl.~ Anacr. 17, etc.\n[cf. Dieterich, _Nek._ 27 f.]. ~leu/k\u00ea~, the white poplar, as the\ntree of Hades, was used to make the garlands of the Mystai at\nEleusis; cf. ~leuk\u00ea\\ kupa/rissos~ at the entrance of Hades, _Epigr.\nGr._ 1037, 2).--It was probably Milesian sailors who localized this\nisland of Achilles in the Black Sea (there was a cult of Ach. in\nOlbia and in Miletos itself). Alc. already knows of the champion as\nruling over the country of the Scythians: _fr._ 48b, ~en Euxei/n\u00f4|\npela/gei phaenna\\n Achileu\\s na=son (e/chei)~, Pi. _N._ iv, 49. Then\nEur., _Andr._ 1259 ff.; _IT._ 436 ff.; finally Q.S. iii, 770 ff.\nLeuke was particularly identified with an uninhabited islet rising\nwith its white limestone cliffs out of the sea at the mouth of the\nDanube: {566} ~Ke/ltou pro\\s ekbolai=si~, Lyc. 189 (probably the\nIstros is meant but the latest editor simply substitutes ~I/strou\npro\\s ek.--a far too facile conjecture).--It stood, more exactly,\nbefore the ~psilo\\n sto/ma~, i.e. the most northerly mouth of\nthe river (the Kilia mouth): Arrian, _Peripl._ 20, 3 H.: [Scylax]\n_Peripl._ 68 prob. means the same island; cf. Leuke, ~euthu\\\nI/strou~, Max. Tyr. 15, 7. It has been proposed to identify it with\nthe \"snake island\" which lies more or less in the same\nneighbourhood: see H. Koehler, _M\u00e9m. sur les \u00eeles et la course cons.\n\u00e0 Achille_, etc., M\u00e9m. acad. S. Petersb. 1826, iv, p. 599 ff. It was\nonly by a confusion that the long sandy beach at the mouth of the\nBorysthenes, called ~Achille/\u00f4s dro/mos~, was identified with Leuke\n(e.g. by Mela, ii, 98; Plin., _NH._ iv, 93; D.P. 541 ff.); legends\nof Achilles' epiphanies may have been current there too (as in other\nislands of the same name: Dionys. of Olbia ap. Sch. A.R. ii, 658);\nthe Olbiopolitai offer a cult to ~Achilleu\\s Ponta/rch\u00eas~ there:\n_CIG._ 2076-7, 2080, 2096b-f (_IPE._ i, 77-83). But as a settled\nabode of Achilles only Leuke was generally recognized (there was a\n~dro/mos Achille/\u00f4s~ there as well: Eur., _IT._ 437; Hesych.\n~Achill. pla/ka~; Arr. 21--hence the confusion mentioned above).\nStrabo's remarks on the subject are peculiar (vii, 306 f.). He\ndistinguishes the ~Ach. dro/mos~ (which had already been mentioned\nby Hdt. iv, 55) from Leuke altogether; and he places that island not\nat the mouth of the Istros but 500 stades away at the mouth of the\nTyras (Dniester). But the place where sacrifice and worship was made\nto Achilles, as the abode of his spirit, was definitely fixed; and\nthis was, in fact, the island at the mouth of the Danube (~kata\\\ntou= I/strou ta\\s ekbola/s~, Paus. 3, 19, 11), of which Arr. 23, 3,\ngives an account based partially on the evidence of eye-witnesses\n(p. 399, 12 M\u00fcll.). It was an uninhabited, thickly wooded island\nonly occupied by numerous birds; there was a temple and a statue of\nAch. on it, and also an oracle (Arr. 22, 3), which must have been an\noracle taken by casting or drawing lots (for there were no human\nintermediaries) which those who landed on the island could make use\nof for themselves. The birds--which were perhaps regarded as\nincarnations of the Heroes, or as handmaidens of the \"divinity of\nlight\" which Achilles was, acc. to R. Holland, _Heroenv\u00f6gel in d.\ngr. Myth._ 7 ff., 1896--the birds purify the temple every morning\nwith their wings, which they have dipped in the water: Arr., p. 398,\n18 ff. Philostr., _Her._ 746, p. 212, 24 Kays. (Cf. the comrades of\nDiomedes changed into birds on his magic island: Iuba ap. Plin.,\n_NH._ x, 127--another bird miracle: ib., x, 78). No human beings\ndared to live on the island, though sailors often landed there; they\nhad to leave before nightfall (when spirits are abroad): Amm. Marc.\n22, 8, 35; Philostr., _Her._ 747, p. 212, 30-213, 6. The temple\npossessed many votive offerings and Greek and Latin inss. (_IPE._ i,\n171-2). Those who landed there sacrificed the goats which had been\nplaced on the island and ran wild. Sometimes Ach. appeared to\nvisitors; at other times they heard him singing the Paian. In dreams\ntoo he sometimes appeared (i.e. if a person happened to sleep--there\nwas no Dream-oracle there). To sailors he gave directions and\nsometimes appeared like the Dioskouroi (as a flame?) on the top of\nthe ship's mast (see Arr., _Peripl._ 21-3; Scymn. 790-6; from both\nthese is derived Anon., _P. Pont. Eux._ 64-6; Max. Tyr. 15, 7, p.\n281 f. R.; Paus. 3, 19, 11; Amm. Marc. 22, 8, 35). (The account in\nPhilostr., _Her._ 745, p. 211, 17-219, 6 Kays., is fantastic but\nuses good material and is throughout quite in keeping with the true\nlegendary spirit--esp. in the story also of the girl torn to pieces\nby ghosts: 215, 6-30. Nor is it likely that {567} Phil. himself\ninvented the marvellous tale laid precisely in the year 163-4 B.C.).\nAchilles is not regarded as living quite alone here: Patroklos is\nwith him (Arr. 32, 34; Max. Tyr. 15, 7), and Helen or Iphigeneia is\ngiven him as his wife (see above, n. 99). Leonymos of Kroton, sixth\ncentury B.C., meets the two Aiantes and Antilochos there: Paus. 3,\n19, 13; Conon 18; D.P. (time of Hadrian) says (545): ~kei=thi d'\nAchill\u00ea=os kai\\ h\u00ear\u00f4/\u00f4n pha/tis a/ll\u00f4n psucha\\s heili/ssesthai\ner\u00eamai/as ana\\ b\u00ea/ssas~ (which Avien., _Des. Orb._, misunderstands\nand improves on: 722 ff.). Thus the island, though in a limited\nsense, became a true ~maka/r\u00f4n n\u00ea=sos~--insula Achillea eadem Leuce\net Macaron appelata, Plin., _NH._ iv, 93.]\n\n[103\\15: Cic., speaking of the \"translations\" of Herakles and\nRomulus, says non corpora in caelum elata, non enim natura pateretur\n. . . (ap. Aug., _CD._ 22, 4); only their animi remanserunt et\naeternitate fruuntur, _ND._ ii, 62; cf. iii, 12. Plu., _Rom._ 28,\nspeaks in the same way of the old translation stories (those of\nAristeas, Kleomedes, Alkmene, and finally Romulus)--it was not their\nbodies which had disappeared together with their souls, for it would\nbe ~para\\ to\\ eiko/s, entheia/zein to\\ thn\u00eato\\n t\u00ea=s phu/se\u00f4s hama\\\ntoi=s thei/ois~ (cf. _Pelop._ 16 fin.); cf. also the Hymn\n(represented as ancient) of Philostr. dealing with the translated\nAchilles: _Her._ 741, p. 208, 24 ff. K.]\n\n[104\\15: Celsus and Plutarch both know and describe the ancient cult\nand oracular power of Amphiaraos (only at Oropos now) as still in\nexistence; the same applies to that of Trophonios (like that of\nAmphilochos also in Cilicia. An inscr. from Lebadeia (first half\nthird century A.D.) mentions a priestess ~t\u00ea=s Homonoi/as t\u00f4=n\nHell\u00ea/n\u00f4n para\\ t\u00f4=| Troph\u00f4ni/\u00f4|~, _IG. Sept._ i, 3426.]\n\n[105\\15: ~Astaki/d\u00ean to\\n Kr\u00ea=ta, to\\n aipo/lon, _h\u00ea/rpase_ nu/mph\u00ea\nex ore/\u00f4n kai\\ nu=n _hiero\\s_ Astaki/d\u00eas~ (he has become divine,\ni.e. immortal): Call., _Ep._ 24. Of a similar character is the\nlegend of Hylas: ~aphan\u00ea\\s ege/neto~, Ant. Lib. 26; and of Bormos\namong the Maryandynoi (~numpho/l\u00eaptos~ Hesych. ~B\u00f4=rmon,\naphanisth\u00ea=nai~ Nymphis, _fr._ 9). The Daphnis legend is another\nexample, and even the story of Odysseus and Kalypso, who detains him\nin her cave and would like to make him immortal and ageless for\never, is in reality based on such legends of the Nymphs. (Even the\nname of the Nymph in this case indicates her power: to ~kalu/ptein~\nher mortal lover, i.e. ~aphan\u00ea= poiei=n~.) Only in this case the\nspell is broken and the ~apathana/tisis~ of the translated lover is\nnever carried out. For other exx. of legends of the love of Nymphs\nfor a youth see _Griech. Roman_, 109, 1; a Homeric ex. in ~Z~ 21 of\nthe ~n\u00eai\\s Abarbare/\u00ea~ and Boukolion the son of Laomedon. The idea\nthat a person translated by the nymphs did not die but lived on for\never, remained current: cf. inscr. from Rome, _Epigr. Gr._ 570,\n9-10: ~toi=s pa/ros ou=n mu/thois pisteu/sate; pai=da ga\\r esthl\u00ea\\n\nh\u00ea/rpasen h\u00f4s terpn\u00ea\\n Na\u00ef/des, ou tha/natos~. And again, n. 571:\n~Nu/mphai kr\u00eanai=ai/ me sun\u00ea/rpasan ek bio/toio, kai\\ ta/cha pou\n_tim\u00ea=s_ hei/neka tou=t' e/pathon~.]\n\n[106\\15: In the extravagant and fanatical worship of Dionysos that\nwas transplanted from Greece to Italy and Rome in the year 186 B.C.\nthe miracle of translation was carried out in a very practical\nfashion (belief in its possibility was evidently firmly\nestablished). Machines were prepared upon which those whose\ndisappearance was to be effected were bound; they were then\ntransferred by the machine _in abditos specus_; whereupon the\nmiracle was announced: _raptos a dis homines istos_: Liv. 39, 13.\nThis only becomes intelligible in the light of such legends of the\ntranslation of mortals, body and soul, to immortality, of which we\nhave been speaking.] {568}\n\n[107\\15: Plainly so in the case of Berenike the consort of Ptolemy\nSoter: Theoc. 17, 46. Theocritus addresses Aphrodite: ~se/then d'\nhe/neken Bereni/ka eueid\u00ea\\s Ache/ronta polu/stonon ouk epe/rasen,\nalla/ min _harpa/xasa_ pa/roith' epi\\ n\u00ea=a katelthei=n kuane/an kai\\\nstugno\\n aei\\ porthm\u00ea=a kamo/nt\u00f4n, es nao\\n kate/th\u00eakas, hea=s d'\napeda/ssao tima=s~ (as ~thea\\ pa/redoros~ or ~su/nnaos~: cf. _Inscr.\nPerg._ i, 246, 8). Cf. also Theoc. 15, 106 ff. As a rule, however,\nthis idea is not so definitely expressed (though it is plainly\nimplied that translation is the normal way in which deified princes\ndepart this life, in the story indignantly rejected by Arrian,\n_Anab._ 7, 27, 3, that Alexander the Great wanted to throw himself\ninto the Euphrates ~h\u00f4s _aphan\u00ea\\s_ ex anthr\u00f4/p\u00f4n geno/menos\npistote/ran t\u00ea\\n do/xan para\\ toi=s e/peita egkatalei/poi ho/ti ek\ntheou= te aut\u00f4=| h\u00ea ge/nesis sune/b\u00ea kai\\ _para\\ theou\\s h\u00ea\napoch\u00f4/r\u00easis_~--which is the regular and ancient idea of\ntranslation, exhibited e.g. in the story of Empedokles' end; see\nabove, chap. xi, n. 61: and Christian pamphleteers transferred the\nfable to Julian and his end). The Roman Emperors also allowed such\nconventional miracles to be told of themselves, in which at least\nthey were imitating the practice of the Hellenistic monarchs and the\n\"consecration\" fables usual at their death (they do not die but\n~methi/stantai ex anthr\u00f4/p\u00f4n, meth. eis theou/s~, _SIG_^1. 246, 16;\n_Inscr. Perg._ i, 249, 4; inscr. from Hierapolis given by Fr\u00e4nkel,\nib. i, p. 39a). That the god is _translated_, his whole personality\n_in caelum redit_, is implied as occurring at the death of an\nEmperor on the coins of consecration, in which the translated is\nrepresented as being carried up to heaven by a _Genius_ or a bird\n(e.g. the eagle which was set free at the _rogus_ of the emperor:\nD.C. 56, 42, 3; 74, 5, 5; Hdn. 4, 2 fin.): see Marquardt, _R\u00f6m.\nStaatsverw._ 3, 447, 3. Nor were there lacking people who maintained\non oath that they had actually witnessed the translation of the\nemperor body and soul to heaven, as had once happened to Julius\nProculus and Romulus. Thus at the end of Augustus' life: D.C. 56,\n46, 2. and that of Drusilla: 59, 11, 4. Sen., _Apocol._ 1. It was\nthe official and only recognised manner in which a god can leave\nthis life.]\n\n[108\\15: _Phdr._ 246 CD. ~pla/ttomen . . . theo\\n, atha/nato/n ti\nz\u00f4=|on, e/chon me\\n psuch\u00ea/n, e/chon de\\ s\u00f4=ma, to\\n aei\\ de\\\nchro/non tau=ta xumpephuko/ta~. In acc. with the will of the\n~d\u00eamiourgo/s~ body and soul in the gods remain joined together\n(though in itself ~to\\ dethe\\n pa=n luto/n~. It is to this that\nKlearch. alludes ap. Ath. 15, 670 B, ~_ho/ti luto\\n_ [lu/etai~ the\nMSS.] ~me\\n pa=n to\\ dedeme/non~): hence they are ~atha/natoi~,\n_Tim._ 41 AB.]\n\n[109\\15: Hasisatra, Enoch: see above, chap. ii, n. 18. Moses, too,\nwas translated acc. to later legend, and Elijah (cf. after the\nbattle of Panormos Hamilcar disappears and for that reason is\nworshipped with sacrifice: Hdt. vii, 166-7). In Egypt too: D.S. 1,\n25, 7, speaks of the ~ex anthr\u00f4/p\u00f4n meta/stasis~, i.e. translation,\nof Osiris (for the expression cf. ~Ka/st\u00f4r kai\\ Poludeu/k\u00eas ex\nanthr\u00f4/p\u00f4n \u00eaphani/sth\u00easan~, Isoc., _Archid._ (6), 18, etc.,\nfrequently).]\n\n[110\\15: Stories of the disappearance (non comparuit, nusquam\napparuit = ~\u00eaphani/sth\u00ea~) of Aeneas and Turnus, King Latinus,\nRomulus and others: Preller, _R\u00f6m. Myth._^2, pp. 84-5; 683, 2; 704.\nAnchises: Procop., _Goth._ iv, 22 fin.]\n\n[111\\15: So too Caesar in deorum numerum relatus est non ore modo\ndecernentium sed et persuasione volgi, Suet., _Jul._ 88.]\n\n[112\\15: D.C. 79, 18.--It is natural to suppose that some prophecy\nof the return of the great Macedonian was current and encouraged the\nattempt to turn the prophecy into a reality and predisposed people\nto believe in it. This at least is what happened in the case of Nero\n{569} and the false Fredericks of the middle ages. This seems to\nhave been at the back of the superstitious cult of Alexander\nparticularly flourishing just at that time (cf. the story told of\nthe family of the Macriani by Treb. Poll. _xxx Tyr._ 14, 4-6).\nCaracalla (Aur. Vict., _Epit._ 21; cf. Hdn. 4, 8; D.C. 77, 7-8) and\nAlexander Severus actually regarded themselves as Avatars of\nAlexander reborn and incarnated in themselves (the latter was first\ncalled Alexander at his elevation to the principate, certainly\n_ominis causa_, and was supposed to have been born, on the\nanniversary of Alexander's death, in A.'s temple: Lamprid., _Al.\nSev._ 5, 1; 13, 1, 3, 4. He paid special honour to Alex., and as we\nare expressly told by Lamp. 64, 3, se magnum Alexandrum videri\nvolebat).]\n\n[113\\15: The Christian anticipation of the return of Nero (as\nAntichrist) is well known: he was supposed to have disappeared and\nnot to have died. They based their expectation, however, on a\nwidespread belief of the populace which the various ~Pseudone/r\u00f4nes~\nwho actually appeared turned to their advantage (Suet., _Ner._ 57;\nTac., _H._ i, 2; ii, 8: Luc., _Indoct._ 20).]\n\n[114\\15: This was the idea lying behind the deification of Antinous\ncommanded by the Emperor; as may be seen from the connexion in which\nCelsus speaks of the matter (ap. Orig., _Cels._ 3, 36, p. 296\nLomm.): he mentions the disappearance of Ant. in the same context as\nthe translation of Kleomedes, Amphiaraos, Amphilochos, etc. (c.\n33-4).--The language in which the deification of Ant. is spoken of\non the obelisk at Rome gives no precise idea of what happened: see\nErman, _Mit. arch. Inst. r\u00f6m. Abt._ 1896, p. 113 ff.--In this case,\nthen, we have a translation effected by a river-god: cf. the\nwater-nymphs mentioned above, n. 105. In the same way Aeneas\ndisappeared into the river Numicius: Serv., _Aen._ xii, 794; Sch.\nVeron., _Aen._ i, 259; D.H. i, 64, 4; Arnob. i, 36; Ov., _M._ xiv,\n598 ff.; Liv. i, 2, 6. cf. the fable of Alex. the Great's\ntranslation into a river: n. 107. Euthymos in the same way vanished\ninto the river Kaikinos (supposed to be his real father: Paus. 6, 6,\n4); see above, chap. iv, n. 116.]\n\n[115\\15: Philostr., _V. Ap._ viii, 29-30 (not indeed from Damis as\nPh. himself definitely asserts; but certainly from sincere accounts\nderived from the various adherents of Apoll.--none of the facts in\nthe biography are Phil.'s own invention). Apoll. either died in\nEphesos or disappeared (~aphanisth\u00ea=nai~) in the temple of Athene at\nLindos or disappeared in the temple of Diktynna in Crete and\nascended to heaven ~aut\u00f4=| s\u00f4/mati~ (as Eus. _adv. Hierocl._ 44,\n408, 5 Ks. rightly understands it). This was the legend generally\npreferred. His ~aphanismo/s~ was confirmed by the fact that no grave\nor cenotaph of Apoll. was to be found: Philostr. viii, 31 fin. The\nimitation of the legends about the disappearance of Empedokles is\nobvious.]\n\n[116\\15: ~tou= Apoll\u00f4ni/ou ex **anthr\u00f4/p\u00f4n \u00ead\u00ea o/ntos,\n**thaumazome/nou de\\ epi\\ t\u00ea=| metabol\u00ea=| kai\\ m\u00ead' antile/xai\ntharrou=ntos m\u00eade/nos h\u00f4s ouk a tha/natos ei\u00ea~, Philostr. viii, 31.\nThen follows a miracle vouchsafed to an unbelieving Thomas to whom\nApoll. himself appears.]\n\n[117\\15: Pre-existence of the soul, return of the souls of the good\nto their home with God, punishment of the wicked, complete\n~athanasi/a~ of all souls as such--all this belongs to the wisdom of\nSolomon. The Essene doctrine of the soul as described by Jos., _BJ._\n2, 8, 11, is also thoroughly Greek; it belongs to the\nStoico-Platonic teaching (i.e. the Neopythagorean variety); see\nSchwally, _Leben n. Todt n. Vorst. alt. Isra\u00ebl_, p. 151 ff., 179 ff.\n[1892]. The _carmen Phocylideum_ is the work of some Jewish author\nwho obscurely mixes up {570} Platonic ideas with those of Greek\ntheologians (cf. 104 where Bgk., _PLG._ ii, p. 95, rightly defends\nthe MSS. ~theoi/~ against Bernays), and of the Stoics (108)--adding\nalso ideas derived from the Jewish doctrine of the resurrection (115\nat least is completely Greek: ~psuch\u00ea\\ d' atha/natos kai\\ ag\u00ea/r\u00f4s\nz\u00ea=| dia\\ panto/s~). In Philo's doctrine of the soul everything\ncomes from Platonic or Stoic sources.]\n\n[118\\15: e.g. in Sikyon as it appears: Paus. 2, 7, 2.]\n\n[119\\15: Perhaps in _Epigr. Gr._ ed. Kaibel (which will be referred\nto in this section as _Ep._), 35a, p. 517; but this belongs to the\nfourth century B.C. A late example (in prose, _IG. Sic. et It._\n1702.]\n\n[120\\15: ~gai=an e/chois elaphra/n~, _Ep._ 195, 4; cf. 103, 9; 538,\n7; 551, 4; 559, 3; _IG. Sic. et It._ 229; Rhodian inscr., _IGM.\nAeg._ i, 151, 3-4 (first-second century A.D.); ~alla\\ su/, dai=mon,\nt\u00ea=| phthime/n\u00ea| kou/ph\u00ean gai=an hu/perthen e/chois~.--Eur. already\nhas something similar: _Alc._ 463: see above, chap. xii, n. 121.]\n\n[121\\15: The confusion of ideas is evident, e.g. in _Ep._ 700,\n~kou=phon e/chois gai/\u00eas ba/ros eusebi/\u00eas eni\\ ch\u00f4/r\u00f4|~, cf. 222b,\n11-12.--The real meaning of such wishes is indicated by Luc.,\n_Luct._ 18; the dead son says to his mourning father, ~de/dias m\u00ea/\nsoi apopnig\u00f4= katakleisthei\\s en t\u00f4=| mn\u00ea/mati~.]\n\n[122\\15: ~Phersepho/n\u00eas tha/lamos, tha/lamoi~, _Ep._ 35, 4; 50, 2;\n201, 4; 231, 2; _Anth. Pal._ vii, 507-8 \"Simonides\". ~phthime/nois\nae/naos tha/lamos~, _Ep._ 143, 2. ~do/mos Nukto/s~, _AP._ vii, 232.\n(We need not hesitate to use the grave-epigrams in the _Anthology_\nside by side with the actual sepulchral inss. The former are\nsometimes the models of the latter, sometimes modelled upon actual\nepitaphic inscriptions, but always closely related to the more\nliterary epitaphs.)]\n\n[123\\15: ~L\u00ea/th\u00eas pausi/ponon po/ma~, _Ep._ 244, 10. ~\u00ea\\n katab\u00ea=|s\nes p\u00f4=ma L\u00ea/th\u00eas~, 261, 20. (~Nu/x, l\u00ea/th\u00eas d\u00f4=ra phe/rous' ep'\nemoi/~, 312.) ~Moi=rai kai\\ L\u00ea/th\u00ea me kat\u00ea/gagon eis Ai/dao~, 521.\n(Cf. _AP._ vii, ~L\u00ea/th\u00eas do/moi~, 25, 6; ~L\u00ea/th\u00eas lim\u00ea/n~, 498;\n~L\u00ea/th\u00eas pe/lagos~, 711, 716.) ~La/thas \u00ea/luthon eis lime/as~,\nMysian inscr. _BCH._ xvii (1894), p. 532, n. 34.]\n\n[124\\15: ~hoi plei/ous~ = the dead (like the Latin _plures_: Plaut.,\n_Trin._ 291, Petron. 42): ~es pleo/n\u00f4n~ in Hades, _Ep._ 373, 4;\n_AP._ vii, 731, 6; xi, 42. Already in Ar., _Eccl._ 1073: ~grau=s\nanast\u00eakui=a para\\ t\u00f4=n pleio/n\u00f4n~. Call., _Epigr._ 5 (cf. Boisson.\non Eunap., p. 309). Ancient oracle ap. Polyb. 8, 30, 7: ~meta\\ t\u00f4=n\npleo/n\u00f4n = t\u00f4=n met\u00eallacho/t\u00f4n (Tarentum). Even in the present day:\n~'stou\\s pollou\\s~, Schmidt, _Volksl. d. Neugr._ i, 235.]\n\n[125\\15: _Ep._ 266, ~m\u00ea\\ mu/rou, phi/l' a/ner, me; kai\\ auto\\s ekei=\nga\\r hodeu/sas heur\u00ea/seis t\u00ea\\n s\u00ea\\n su/ggamon Eutuchi/\u00ean~. Cf. 558,\n5 ff.; 397, 5. Phrygian inscr., _Papers American School_, iii, 305\n(n. 427): a father addressing his dead son ~kai\\ polu\\ tersane/\u00f4\nto/te da/kruon h\u00ea/nika sei=o psuch\u00ea\\n athr\u00ea/s\u00f4 g\u00ea=n\nhupodusa/menos~.]\n\n[126\\15: ~ei de/ tis en phthime/nois kri/sis, h\u00f4s lo/gos amphi\\\nthano/nt\u00f4n~, _Ep._ 215, 5. A mother boasts of the piety of her son\nto Rhadamanthys: 514, 5 (cf. 559, 3 f.). So too, in _AP._ vii there\nis little mention of a judgment (596 Agathias).]\n\n[127\\15: The division of the dead into two classes is implied where\nthe pious departed is said to be about to dwell ~en maka/ressin~,\netc. But the distinct separation of the dead into two or three\nclasses [see above, chap. xii, n. 62] is rare in the sepulchral\ninscr.: _Ep._ 650, 9 ff., is an exception (but there one company is\n~epichthoni/\u00ea~, the other in the _aither_--a Stoic idea.--A peculiar\narrangement, implying the three classes, is given in [Socr.]\n_Epist._ 27, 1 (they are in the ~to/pos eus.~ and ~aseb\u00f4=n~ in\nHades, and in the _aither_): ~tou= ei=te kata\\ g\u00ea=n en euseb\u00f4=n\nch\u00f4/r\u00f4| o/ntos {571} ei/te kat' a/stra (ho/per kai\\ ma/la pei/thomai)\nS\u00f4kra/tous~.--The same again in _AP._ vii, 370 (Diodor.) ~en Dio\\s~\n(i.e. in Heaven) ~\u00ea\\ maka/r\u00f4n~.]\n\n[128\\15: There is perhaps no reference in the grave-inss. to the\npunishment of the ~asebei=s~, and scarcely any in _AP._ vii (but cf.\n377, 7 f. Erykios).]\n\n[129\\15: ~psuch\u00ea\\ d' es to\\ di/kaion e/b\u00ea~, _Ep._ 502, 13; i.e. to\nthe place to which it justly belongs.]\n\n[130\\15: ~nai/eis _maka/r\u00f4n n\u00ea/sous_ thali/\u00ea| eni\\ poll\u00ea=|~, _Ep._\n649, 2; 366, 6; 648, 9. ~n\u00ea=son e/cheis maka/r\u00f4n~, 473, 2; 107, 2;\n_AP._ vii, 690, 4. ~maka/r\u00f4n pedi/on~, _Ep._ 516, 1-2. ~_\u00calu/sion_\npedi/on~ 414, 8; 150, 6. ~pedi/a \u00calu/sia~, 338, 2; 649, 3. ~ch\u00f4=ros\n\u00ealu/sios~ 618a, 8. ~met' eusebe/\u00f4n esme\\n en \u00calusi/\u00f4|~, 554,\n4.--~nai/\u00f4 d' _h\u00ear\u00f4/\u00f4n_ hiero\\n do/mon, ouk Ache/rontes; toi=on ga\\r\nbio/tou te/rma sophoi=sin e/ni~, _Ep._ 228, 7-8. ~h\u00ear\u00f4/\u00f4n ch\u00f4=ron\ne/chois phthi/menos~, 539, 4. ~L\u00eatogene/s, su\\ de\\ pai=das en\nh\u00ear\u00f4/essi phula/ssois, eusebe/\u00f4n aei\\ ch\u00f4=ron epercho/menos~, 228b,\n7 (p. 520). ~\u00f4/|chet' es _h\u00eamithe/ous_~, 699 (~soi\\ me\\n he/dr\u00ea\nthei/oisi par' andra/si~, _AP._ vii, 659, 3).]\n\n[131\\15: Description of the charms of the ~maka/r\u00f4n n\u00ea=soi~ and the\nElysian fields where ~oude\\ potheino\\s anthr\u00f4/p\u00f4n e/ti bi/otos~,\n_Ep._ 649. More elaborate in the poem of Marcellus on Regilla the\nwife of Herodes Att.: _Ep._ 1046 (she is ~meth' h\u00ear\u00f4/|n\u00easin en\nmaka/r\u00f4n n\u00ea/soisin, hi/na Kro/nos embasileu/ei~, 8-9; Zeus had\ndispatched her thither with soft breezes, ~es \u00f4keano/n~, 21 ff. Now\nshe is ~ou thn\u00eat\u00ea/, ata\\r oude\\ the/aina~ but a Heroine, 42 ff. In\nthe ~choro\\s protera/\u00f4n h\u00eamithea/\u00f4n~ she serves as an ~opa/\u00f4n\nnu/mph\u00ea~ of Persephone, 51 ff.).]\n\n[132\\15: Clearly e.g. the place where Rhadamanthys holds sway in\nHades, _Ep._ 452, 18-19.]\n\n[133\\15: The ~ch\u00f4=ros eusebe/\u00f4n~ clearly indicates Hades: ~Ai/de\u00f4\nnuchi/oio me/las hupede/xato ko/lpos, eusebe/\u00f4n th' hosi/\u00ean eu/nasen\nes klisi/\u00ean~, _Ep._ 27, 3-4; cf. inscr. from Rhodes, _IGM. Aeg._ i,\n141, of an old schoolmaster--~euseb\u00f4=n ch\u00f4=ros [sph' e/chei];\nPlou/t\u00f4n ga\\r auto\\n kai\\ Kor\u00ea kat\u00f4/|kisan, Herm\u00ea=s te kai\\\nda|dou=chos Heka/t\u00ea, prosph[il\u00ea=] ha/pasin ei=nai, mustik\u00f4=n t'\nepista/t\u00ean e/taxan auto\\n pi/ste\u00f4s pa/s\u00eas cha/rin~.--Not\ninfrequently Elysion and the place of the ~eusebe/es~ are\nidentified: e.g. _Ep._ 338, ~eusebe/es de\\ psuch\u00ea\\n~ (sc. ~e/chousi)\nkai\\ pedi/\u00f4n te/rmones \u00calusi/\u00f4n. tou=to saophrosu/n\u00eas e/lachon\nge/ras, ambrosi/\u00ean de\\~ (the immortality of her soul) ~s\u00f4/matos\nhubrist\u00ea\\s ouk epa/t\u00ease chro/nos. alla\\ ne/\u00ea nu/mph\u00ea|si~ (thus the\nstone: _Ath. Mitt._ iv, 17) ~met' eusebe/essi kath\u00ea=tai~.--If there\nis a judgment in Hades ~oik\u00ea/seis eis do/mon eusebe/\u00f4n~, _Ep._ 215,\n5-6. Kore conducts the dead ~ch\u00f4=ron ep' eusebe/\u00f4n~, 218, 15-16.\n~ka/stin en eusebe/\u00f4n h\u00ea\\n dia\\ s\u00f4phrosu/n\u00ean~, 569, 12. ~eusebe/\u00f4n\nch\u00f4=ros~, 296. ~eus. do/mos~, 222, 7-8. ~eusebe/\u00f4n nai/ois hiero\\n\ndo/mon~, _IPE._ ii, 298, 11. ~psuch\u00ea\\ d' eusebe/\u00f4n oi/chetai eis\ntha/lamon~, _Ep._ 90 (_CIA._ ii, 3004). ~eus. eis hierou\\s\nthala/mous~, 222b, 12. ~eus. en skieroi=s thala/mois~, 253, 6.\n~esthla\\ de\\ nai/\u00f4 d\u00f4/mata Phersepho/nas ch\u00f4/r\u00f4| en eusebe/\u00f4n~, 189,\n5-6. ~met' eusebe/essi kei=sthai, ant' aret\u00ea=s~, 259. ~th\u00ea=k' Ai/d\u00eas\nes mucho\\n eusebe/\u00f4n~, 241a, 18. ~eusebi/\u00eas d' hei/neken eusebe/\u00f4n\nch\u00f4=ron e/b\u00ea phthi/menos~, _Ath. Mitt._ xi, 427 (Kolophon). Late\nRoman inscr., _IG. Sic. et It._ 1660: a wife says of her dead\nhusband ~peri\\ hou= de/omai tou\\s katachthoni/ous theou/s, t\u00ea\\n\npsuch\u00ea\\n eis tou\\s eusebei=s katata/xai~.]\n\n[134\\15: The ~ch\u00f4=ros maka/r\u00f4n~ in the sky: ~psuch\u00ea\\ d' athana/t\u00f4n\nboulai=s epid\u00ea/mio/s estin a/strois kai\\ hiero\\n ch\u00f4=ron e/chei\nmaka/r\u00f4n~, _Ep._ 324, 3-4. ~kai\\ nai/eis maka/r\u00f4n n\u00ea/sous . . .\naugai=s en katharai=sin, Olumpou pl\u00easi/on o/nt\u00f4s~, 649, 2, 8. The\n~\u00ealu/sion pedi/on~ outside the ~phthime/n\u00f4n do/moi~, 414, 8, 6.\nSometimes both the heavenly abode of the blessed and the Islands of\nthe Blest occur together: [Luc.] _Dem. Enc._ 50. {572} Demosth. is\nafter his death either in the ~maka/r\u00f4n n\u00ea/sois~ with the Heroes,\nor else in the ~ourano/s~ as an attendant daimon on ~Zeu\\s\nEleuthe/rios~.]\n\n[135\\15: ~psuch\u00ea\\ pro\\s _O/lumpon_ an\u00ea/llato~, _Ep._ 646a, 3.\n~psuch\u00ea\\ d' en Olu/mp\u00f4|~, 159, 261, 11. ~\u00ea=lthen d' eis Aidao\nde/mas, psuch\u00ea\\ d' es O/lumpon~, _AP._ vii, 362, 3. (~Ai/d\u00eas~ here =\nthe grave as often; so too in _Ep._ 288, 4-5, ~psuch\u00ea\\ . . . es\naithe/ra . . . oste/a eis Ai/d\u00ean a/tropos ei=le no/mos.) meta\\\npo/tmon hor\u00f4= pha/os Oulu/mpoio~, _AP._ vii, 678, 5.--~psuch\u00ea\\n d'\nek mele/\u00f4n _ourano\\s_ euru\\s e/chei~, _Ep._ 104b, 4. ~\u00ea=tor d'\nouran\u00f4=| meta/rsion~, 462, 6. ~psuch\u00ea\\ moi nai/ei d\u00f4/mat'\nepoura/nia~, 261, 10 (and frequently in this poem in various forms).\n~es ourani/as atarpou\\s psuch\u00ea\\ paptai/nei s\u00f4=m' apodusame/n\u00ea~,\n_AP._ vii, 337, 7; cf. also 363, 3; 587, 2; 672, 1 and ix, 207-8.\n~_aith\u00ea\\r_ me\\n psucha\\s hupede/xato~, _Ep._ 21 (fifth century B.C.,\nsee above, chap. xii, n. 149). ~Euruma/chou psuch\u00ea\\n kai\\\nhuperphia/lous dianoi/as aith\u00ea\\r hugro\\s e/chei~, 41 (fourth century\nB.C. but the ~aith\u00ea/r~ is not \"moist\"--~aith\u00ea\\r lampro\\s e/chei~ is\nthe more primitive version of the phrase given in the corresponding\nepigr. of the ~Pe/plos.~ The ~a\u00ea/r~ would be ~hugro/s~: ~t\u00ean\npsuch\u00ea\\n ape/d\u00f4ken es ae/ra~, _Ep._ 642, 7). ~psuch\u00ea\\n me\\n es\naithe/ra kai\\ Dio\\s aula/s~, 288, 4. ~psuch\u00ea\\ d' aithe/rion\nkate/chei po/lon~, 225, 3. ~es ai/thr\u00ean psuch\u00ea\\ e/b\u00ea eme/then~, 325,\n5.--~psuch\u00ea\\ d' athana/t\u00f4n boulai=s epid\u00ea/mio/s estin _a/strois_~,\nEp. 324, 3. From Thyatira, _BCH._ 1887, p. 461: ~tha/psen d'\nadelpho\\s Arche/laos s\u00f4=m' emo/n, psucha\\ de/ meu pro\\s a/stra kai\\\ntheou\\s ESI~ (read ~e/b\u00ea~). One company of the souls ~tei/ressi su\\n\naitheri/oisi choreu/ei; h\u00ea=s strati\u00ea=s hei=s eimi~, _Ep._ 650, 11-12\n(Diogenes) ~nu=n de than\u00f4\\n aste/ras oi=kon e/chei~, _AP._ vii, 64,\n4.]\n\n[136\\15: ~psuch\u00ea\\ d' ek rhethe/\u00f4n ptame/n\u00ea meta\\ dai/monas a/llous\n\u00ea/luthe s\u00ea/, nai/es d' en maka/r\u00f4n dape/d\u00f4|~, _Ep._ 243, 5-6. ~kai/\nme the\u00f4=n maka/r\u00f4n kate/chei do/mos a=sson io/nta, ourani/ois te\ndo/moisi ble/p\u00f4 pha/os \u00carigenei/\u00eas~, 312, 6.--~t\u00ea\\n su/neton\npsuch\u00ea\\n maka/r\u00f4n eis ae/ra dou=sa, pro/sthen me\\n thn\u00eat\u00ea/, nu=n de\\\nthe\u00f4= me/tochos~, 654, 4-5.--~alla\\ nu=n eis tou\\s theou/s~ _IG.\nSic. et It._ 1420. ~h\u00f4s de\\ phu/sis me\\n e/lusen apo\\ chthono/s,\natha/natoi me\\n auto\\n e/chousi theoi\\ s\u00f4=ma de\\ s\u00eako\\s ho/de~,\n_AP._ vii, 570; 61, 2; 573, 3-4.]\n\n[137\\15: See above, chap. xii, p. 436 ff.]\n\n[138\\15: See above, p. 500 f. ~pneu=ma~, _Ep._ 250, 6; 613, 6;\n~pneu=ma lab\u00f4\\n da/nos ourano/then tele/sas chro/non antape/d\u00f4ka~\n(cf. ~pneu=ma ga/r esti theou= chr\u00ea=sis thn\u00eatoi=si~, _Carm. Phoc._\n106). 156, 2: ~pnoi\u00ea\\n aith\u00ea\\r e/laben pa/lin, ho/sper e/d\u00f4ken~\n(third century B.C.; see K\u00f6hler on _CIA._ ii, 4135).--This\nconception having become popular frequently occurs in the\ntheological poetry of later times: e.g. ~chr\u00easmo/s~ ap. Stob.,\n_Ecl._ 1, 49, 46, i, p. 414 W.: ~to\\ me\\n (to\\ s\u00f4=ma) luthe/n esti\nko/nis, psuch\u00ea\\ de\\ pro\\s ai/thr\u00ean ski/dnatai, hoppo/then \u00ea=lthe,\nmet\u00ea/oros eis aithe/r' haplou=n~ (read ~aithe/r' es _hagno/_~).\nOracle of Apoll. Tyan. ap. Philostr., _VA._ viii, 31: ~atha/natos\npsuch\u00ea\\ . . . meta\\ s\u00f4=ma maranthe\\n . . . rh\u00eaidi/\u00f4s prothorou=sa\nkera/nnutai \u00eae/ri kou/ph\u00f4|~.]\n\n[139\\15: ~psuch\u00ea\\n d' _atha/naton_ koino\\s e/chei tha/natos~, _Ep._\n35, 6 (_CIA._ ii, 3620, fourth century B.C.). _IG. Sic. et It._ 940,\n3-4: ~athana/t\u00ea psuch\u00ea\\ me\\n es aithe/ri kai\\ Dio\\s augai=s\np\u00f4ta=tai~. ib. 942: ~. . . entha/de kei=mai, _ouchi\\ than\u00f4/n_;\nthn\u00ea/skein m\u00ea\\ le/ge tou\\s agathou/s~ (from Call., _Epigr._ 11,\n~ta=|de Sa/\u00f4n . . . hiero\\n hu/pnon koima=tai. thna/skein m\u00ea\\ le/ge\ntou\\s agathou/s).--_ouk e/thanes_, Pr\u00f4/t\u00ea, mete/b\u00eas d' es amei/nona\nch\u00f4=ron~ _Ep._ 649.]\n\n[140\\15: This retains its full and original meaning (as in Call.,\nEpigr. 11); cf. _Ep._ 559, 7, ~le/ge Popili/\u00ean heu/dein a/ner; ou\nthemito\\n thn\u00ea/skein tou\\s agathou/s, all' hu/pnon h\u00eadu\\n e/chein~.\nMore often as a mere conventional phrase: 433; 101, 4; 202, 1; 204,\n7; ~s' ekoi/misen hu/pnos ho l\u00ea/th\u00eas~, 223, 3; 502, 2; _AP._ vii,\n29, 1; 30, 2, 260.]\n\n[141\\15: _Ep._ 651: ~thn\u00eato\\n s\u00f4=ma . . . to\\ d' atha/naton es\nmaka/r\u00f4n ano/rouse {573} ke/ar; psuch\u00ea\\ ga\\r aei/z\u00f4s h\u00ea\\ to\\ z\u00ea=n\npare/chei kai\\ theo/phin kate/b\u00ea . . . s\u00f4=ma chit\u00f4\\n psuch\u00ea=s~ (cf.\nEmp. 414 M. = _fr._ 126 D., ~sark\u00f4=n periste/llousa chit\u00f4=ni~ sc.\n~t\u00ea\\n psuch\u00ea/n); to\\n de\\ theo\\n se/be mou~ (the god in me, my\n~psuch\u00ea/~). 261, 6, ~t\u00ea\\n psuch\u00ea\\n d' athana/t\u00ean e/lachon; en gai/\u00ea|\nme\\n s\u00f4=ma to\\ suggene/s oura/nios de\\ \u00ea/luthen h\u00ea psuch\u00ea\\ d\u00f4=ma\nkat' ou phthi/menon ktl.~; cf. 320, 6 ff.--594 (late epitaph of a\ndoctor with philosophic leanings; found in Rome, 7 ff.: ~oud' a/ra\nthn\u00eato\\s e/\u00ean, hup' ana/gk\u00eas hupsime/dontos tu/mb\u00f4| einale/\u00f4|\npeped\u00eame/nos \u00ea/nusen oi=mon. ek rhethe/\u00f4n d' a/ma steich\u00f4n semno\\n\ne/b\u00ea Dio\\s oi=kon~. No sense can be made of the passage if ~tu/mb\u00f4|~\nis understood as the real grave and this has led to altering or\nstraining the sense of ~einale/\u00f4|~ (~einali/\u00f4|~ Franz, ~sigale/\u00f4|~\nJacobs). But the poet means: the dead man was (in his real nature,\nhis soul) immortal, only the will of the gods had caused him (his\nsoul) to be bound to the body and to complete his course of life in\nthe body, after the end of which he will rise immediately (and\nreturn) to the realm of the gods. Read therefore ~tu/mb\u00f4| _ein\nala\u00f4=|_ peped\u00eame/nos~, fettered in the \"dark grave\" of the body:\n~s\u00f4=ma = s\u00ea=ma~. (Exactly as in Verg., _A._ vi, 734, the animae:\nclausae tenebris et carcere caeco.)--603: he who lies buried here\n~thn\u00eatoi=s psuch\u00ea\\n pei/sas epi\\ s\u00f4/masin elthei=n t\u00ea\\n hautou=,\nme/leos, ouk ane/peise me/nein~. That is: he has persuaded his\n(previously living and bodiless) soul to enter into the realm of\nmortal bodies (to occupy a body), but could not persuade it to\nremain there long--in this earthly life.]\n\n[142\\15: Once at the most: ~_ei_ pa/lin e/sti gene/sthai . . . _ei_\nd' ouk e/stin pa/lin elthei=n~--_Ep._ 304 (cf. above, chap. xii, n.\n138).]\n\n[143\\15: The epitaphs quoted in n. 141 have a theological meaning\nbut do not allude to any specifically Platonic opinion or doctrines.\nThere is no need to see Platonic influence (as Lehrs would: _Pop.\nAufs._^2, p. 339 f.) in the numerous epitaphs that speak of the\nascent of the soul into the _aither_, the stars, etc. (notes 135,\n136). It is true that Alexis 158 K. inquires whether the view that\nthe body decays after death--~to\\ d' atha/naton ex\u00ea=re pro\\s to\\n\nae/ra~--is not Platonic doctrine (~tau=t' ou schol\u00ea\\ Pla/t\u00f4nos~).\nBut he has no real knowledge of Platonic teaching and calls Platonic\nthat idea of the ascent of the souls of the dead into the upper\nregions which had long been popular in Athens--even before Plato's\ntime. In fact Plato's doctrine has only the most distant resemblance\nto the popular one, and the latter originated and persisted without\nbeing influenced at all by Plato or his school.]\n\n[144\\15: _Ep._ 650, 12. I belong to the company of the blessed which\n~tei/ressi su\\n aitheri/oisi choreu/ei, lach\u00f4\\n theo\\n h\u00eagemon\u00ea=a~.\nThese last words must refer to a special relation of a pious kind to\nsome god. We may note the conclusion of the _Caesares_ of Julian\n(336 C): Hermes addresses the Emperor: follow the ~entolai/~ of\n~pat\u00ea\\r Mi/thras~ in life, ~kai\\ h\u00eani/ka a\\n enthe/nde apie/nai\nde/\u00ea|, meta\\ t\u00ea=s agath\u00ea=s elpi/dos _h\u00eagemo/na theo\\n eumen\u00ea=_\nkathista\\s seaut\u00f4=|~. Cf. also the promise made in an Egyptian magic\npapyrus ed, Parthey, _Abh. Berl. Ak._ 1865, p. 125, l. 178 ff.: the\nghost thus conjured up will after your death ~sou= to\\ pneu=ma\nbasta/xas eis ae/ra a/xei su\\n haut\u00f4=|, eis ga\\r a/|d\u00ean ou ch\u00f4r\u00ea/sei\nae/rion pneu=ma _sustathe\\n_~ (i.e. commended) ~_kratai\u00f4=|\npare/dr\u00f4|_~. Cf. Pl., _Phd._ 107 D ff.: the souls of the dead are\nconducted each by the ~dai/m\u00f4n ho/sper z\u00f4=nta eil\u00ea/chei~ to the\njudgment place: thence they go ~eis ha=|dou meta\\ h\u00eagemo/nos\nekei/nou hou= d\u00ea\\ proste/taktai tou\\s enthe/nde ekei=se poreu=sai~.\nAfterwards yet another, ~a/llos h\u00eagem\u00f4/n~ as it appears, leads them\nback again. A blessed abode hereafter is found by ~h\u00ea kathar\u00f4=s te\nkai\\ metri/\u00f4s to\\n bi/on diexelthou=sa kai\\ xunempo/r\u00f4n kai\\\n_h\u00eagemo/n\u00f4n the\u00f4=n tuchou=sa_~, 108 C. The same idea occurs on the\nmonument of Vibia (in the Catacombs of Praetextatus in Rome):\n_Mercurius nuntius_ {574} conducts her (and Alcestis) before\nDispater and Aeracura to be tried: after that a special _bonus\nangelus_ leads her to the banquet of the blessed (_CIL._ vi, 142).\nThere is nothing Christian in this, any more than in the whole\nmonument or its inscriptions. (The \"angel\" as an intermediate being\nbetween gods and men had long been taken from Jewish religion by\nheathen belief and philosophy: they were sometimes identified with\nthe Platonic ~dai/mones~: see R. Heinze, _Xenokrat._ 112 f. These\nintermediate natures, the ~a/ggeloi~, have nothing to do with the\nold Greek conception of certain gods as \"Messengers\" or of the Hero\n~Eua/ggelos~, etc. [cf. Usener, _G\u00f6tternamen_, 268 ff.].) With the\nfanciful picture of Vibia we may compare (besides the Platonic\npassages mentioned above) what Luc., _Philops._ 25, has to say of the\n~neani/as pa/gkalos~ who leads the souls into the underworld (~hoi\nagago/ntes auto/n~ less precisely in the parallel narrative of\nPlutarch, _de An. fr._ 1, ap. Eus., _PE._ 11, 36, p. 563 D).]\n\n[145\\15: Hermes the conductor of the souls as ~a/ggelos\nPhersepho/n\u00eas~ _Ep._ 575, 1. Hermes brings the souls to Eubouleus\nand Persephone, _Ep._ 272, 9.--He leads the souls to the ~maka/r\u00f4n\n\u00ealu/sion pedi/on~, 414, 9; 411; to the Islands of the Blest, 107, 2.\nHe leads them by the hand to heaven, to the blessed gods, 312, 8\nff.]\n\n[146\\15: _Ep._ 218, 15, ~alla\\ su/, pambasi/leia thea/, polu\u00f4/nume\nkoura/, t\u00ea/nd' a/g' ep' eusebe/\u00f4n ch\u00f4=ron, e/chousa chero/s~. 452,\n17 ff. Of the souls of the dead man, his wife and children it is\nsaid: ~de/cheo es Ha/idou~ (Hades does not admit everyone: cf. the\ndead man who prays ~hoi\\ stu/gion ch\u00f4=ron huponai/ete dai/mones\nesthloi/, de/xasth' eis A\u00ef/d\u00ean kame\\ to\\n oiktro/taton~, 624),\n~po/tnia nu/mph\u00ea, ki\\ psucha\\s prou/pempe, hi/na xantho\\s\nRhada/manthus~. To be thus received and conducted by a god or\ngoddess is evidently regarded as a special favour. The abode of the\n~eusebei=s~ is reached by those who have honoured Persephone before\nall other deities: _IG. Sic. et It._ 1561. Zeus too conducts the\nsouls, _Ep._ 511, 1: ~anti/ se kudali/mas areta=s, polu\u00ea/rate\nkou=re, h\u00ea=xen es \u00calu/sion auto\\s a/nax Kroni/d\u00eas (theo/s~, 516,\n1-2). Speaking of a Ptolemy who has died young, Antipater Sid. says\n(_AP._ vii, 241, 11 ff.) ~ou de/ se nu\\x ek nukto\\s ede/xato; d\u00ea\\\nga\\r a/naktas toi/ous ouk A\u00ef/das, Zeu\\s d' es o/lumpon a/gei~.\nApollo also: Parmenis buried by her parents says ~[nu=n mega/l]ou~\n(to be restored in some such fashion) ~de/ m' e/chei te/menos Dio/s,\nho/rra/ t' _Apo/ll\u00f4n_ [loig]ou=~ (doubtful completion) ~a/meipsen,\n_hel\u00f4\\n ek puro\\s_ atha/naton~, _IGM. Aeg._ i, 142\n(Rhodos).--Tibull. is clearly imitating Greek poetry when he says\n(1, 3, 57) sed me quod facilis tenero sum semper Amori ipsa Venus\ncampos ducet ad Elysios (the poet himself explains why it should be\nVenus: he has specially honoured her. There is no need to imagine a\nVenus Libitina). Phleg., _Mirab._ 3, p. 130, 16 ff. West. [73, 1\nKell.]: ~Phoi=bos Apo/ll\u00f4n Pu/thios . . . moi heo\\n kratero\\n\nthera/pont'~ (the daimonic wolf) ~epipe/mpsas \u00ea/gagen eis maka/r\u00f4n\nte do/mous kai\\ Persephonei/\u00eas~.]\n\n[147\\15: Isidote, hierophantis in Eleusis (grand-daughter of the\nfamous sophist Isaios) is called by her epitaph (~Eph. Arch.~ 1885,\np. 149, l. 8 ff.) ~e/xochon e/n t' aretai=s e/n te saophrosu/nais;\nh\u00ea\\n kai\\ ameibome/n\u00ea D\u00ea\u00f4\\ maka/r\u00f4n epi\\ n\u00ea/ssous \u00ea/gage, pantoi/\u00eas\nekto\\s ep\u00f4duni/\u00eas~. (l. 20 ~h\u00ea=n kai\\ D\u00eam\u00ea/t\u00ear \u00f4/pasen\nathana/tois~.)]\n\n[148\\15: By their noble death the gods show ~h\u00f4s a/meinon ei/\u00ea\nanthr\u00f4/p\u00f4| tethna/nai ma=llon \u00ea\\ z\u00f4/ein~, Hdt. i, 31; cf. [Pl.]\n_Axioch._ 367 C; Cic., _TD._ i, 113; Plu., _Cons. ad Apoll._ 13, 108\nE; cf. Amm. Marc. 25, 3, 15.--The epitaph of Isidote alludes to the\nlegend, l. 11: ~d\u00f4=ke~ (Demeter) ~de/ hoi tha/naton gluker\u00f4/teron\nh\u00eade/os hu/pnou pa/gchu kai\\ Argei/\u00f4n phe/rteron \u00ea\u00efthe/\u00f4n.~] {575}\n\n[149\\15: ~G\u00earale/\u00ean psuch\u00ea\\n ep' akmai/\u00f4| s\u00f4/mati Glau=kos kai\\\nka/llei kera/sas krei/ttona s\u00f4phrosu/n\u00ean, o/rgia pa=sin e/phaine\nbrotoi=s phaesi/mbrota D\u00eaou=s einaete/s, deka/t\u00f4| d' \u00ea=lthe par'\nathana/tous. \u00ea= kalo\\n ek maka/r\u00f4n must\u00ea/rion, ou mo/non ei=nai to\\n\ntha/naton thn\u00eatoi=s ou kako/n, all' agatho\\n~, ~Eph. Arch.~ 1883,\npp. 81-2 (third century A.D.). Below the statue of a daughter of\nthis Glaukos, at Eleusis, there is an inscr., ~Glau/kou de\\ gn\u00f4t\u00ea\\\ntheoeide/os, ho/s te kai\\ auto\\s _hierophant\u00ea/sas \u00f4/|chet' es\nathana/tous_~, ~Eph. Arch.~ 1894, p. 205, n. 26, l. 11 ff.]\n\n[150\\15: As a conventional formula; [D.H.] _Rhet._ 6, 5: ~epi\\\nte/lei~ (of the funeral oration) ~peri\\ psuch\u00ea=s anagkai=on eipei=n,\nho/ti atha/natos, kai\\ ho/ti tou\\s toiou/tous, en theoi=s o/ntas,\namei=non i/s\u00f4s apalla/ttein~.]\n\n[151\\15: ~--to\\n atha/natoi phile/eskon; tou/neka kai\\ p\u00eagai=s\nlou=san en athana/tois~ (we are reminded of the ~atha/natos p\u00eag\u00ea/~\nout of which Glaukos drew ~athanasi/a~: Sch. Pl., _Rp._ 611 C),\n~kai\\ maka/r\u00f4n n\u00ea/sous ba/llon es athana/t\u00f4n~, _Ep._ 366, 4 ff.\nThere are two fountains in Hades, that (to the left) of Lethe, and\n(to the right) of Mnemosyne, from which cold water flows (l. 5):\nfrom the latter the guardians will give the suppliant soul water to\ndrink ~kai\\ to/t' e/peit' a/lloisi meth' h\u00ear\u00f4/essin ana/xei~:\nsepulchral tablet from Petelia (about third century B.C.), _IG. Sic.\net It._ 638 (_Ep._ 1037; Harrison, _Proleg._ 661 ff.). Mutilated\ncopies of the same original have been found at Eleuthernai in Crete,\n_BCH._ 1893-4, p. 126, 629; cf. above, chap. xii, n. 62.--This, in\nfact, is the \"water of life\" so often mentioned in the folk-lore of\nmany countries; cf. Grimm, _D. M\u00e4rchen_, n. 97, with _Notes_ iii, p.\n178, 328; Dieterich, _Abraxas_, 97 f.; _Nekyia_, 94, 99. This is the\nfountain from which Psyche also has to bring water to Venus (Apul.,\n_M._ vi, 13-14); and it is certain that in the original Psyche-story\nit was not the water of the Styx that was intended (as Apul.\nsupposes, but of what use would that be?), but the water of the\nfountain of life in Hades. It is a _speaking_ fountain, _vocales\naquae_ (Apul. vi, 14), and, in fact, precisely the same as that\nmentioned in a unique legend of Herakles given in [Justin.] ~pro\\s\nHe/ll\u00eanas~ 3 (p. 636, 7, ed. Harnack, _Ber. Berl. Ak._ 1896);\nHerakles is called ~ho o/r\u00ea p\u00ead\u00ea/sas~ (? ~_pidu/sas_~, \"making it\ngush forth,\" would be more acceptable) ~hi/na la/b\u00ea| hu/d\u00f4r\n_e/narthron ph\u00f4n\u00ea\\n apodido/n_~. Herakles makes the mountain gush\nforth by striking the speaking water out of the rock. This is\nexactly paralleled in the modern Greek stories given by Hahn, _Gr.\nu. alb. M\u00e4rchen_, ii, p. 234; the Lamia who guards the water of life\n(~to\\ atha/nato nero/~, the phrase often appears in these stories;\ncf. also Schmidt, _Griech. M\u00e4rchen_, p. 233) \"strikes with a hammer\non the rock till it opens and she can draw the water of life\". This\nis the same ancient fairy tale motif. The proper home of this water\nof life is probably the lower world, the world of either death or\nimmortality, though this is not expressly stated in the Herakles\nlegend nor in the fairy tale of Glaukos who discovered the\n~atha/natos p\u00eag\u00ea/~ (but probably also in the magic country of the\nWest. Thus Alexander the Great finds the ~atha/natos p\u00eag\u00ea/~ at the\nentrance to the ~maka/r\u00f4n ch\u00f4/ra~ acc. to Ps.-Callisth. ii, 39 ff.;\nhis story shows clear reminiscences of the Glaukos tale, its\nprototype, in c. 39 fin., 41, 2).--The Orphic (and Pythagorean)\nmythology of Hades (see above: chap. xi, n. 96; chap. xii, nn. 37-8;\nchap. vii, n. 21) then proceeded to make use of the folk-tale for\ntheir own purposes. In _Ep._ 658 the prayer also refers to the\nOrphic fable (_CIG._ 5772) ~psuchro\\n hu/d\u00f4r doi/\u00ea soi a/nax\nene/r\u00f4n A\u00efd\u00f4neu/s~, and 719, 11, ~psuch\u00ea=| dips\u00f4/s\u00ea| psuchro\\n\nhu/d\u00f4r metado/s~. They mean: may you live on in complete\nconsciousness. (The same thing in the negative: the dead man dwells\n~ha/ma paisi\\ the\u00f4=n kai\\ l\u00ea/th\u00eas ouk e/pien liba/da~, 414, 10:\n{576} ~ouk e/pion L\u00ea/th\u00eas A\u00efd\u00f4ni/dos e/schaton hu/d\u00f4r~, so that I\ncan perceive the mourning of the living for my loss, 204, 11. ~kai\\\nthn\u00ea/sk\u00f4n ga\\r e/ch\u00f4 no/on ou/tina baio/n~, 334, 5.--Poetical\nallusion in _AP._ vii, 346: ~su\\ d' ei the/mis, en phthime/noisi\ntou= L\u00ea/th\u00eas ep' emoi\\ m\u00ea/ ti pi/\u00ea|s hu/datos~.--Perhaps something\nof the sort already occurs in Pindar; see above, chap. xii, n. 37.)]\n\n[152\\15: ~eupsu/chei kuri/a kai\\ doi/\u00ea soi ho O/siris to\\ psuchro\\n\nhu/d\u00f4r~, _IG. Sic. et It._ 1488; 1705; 1782; _Rev. Arch._ 1887, p.\n201. (And once the line ~soi\\ de\\ Osei/ridos hagno\\n hu/d\u00f4r Ei=sis\nchari/saito~, inscr. from Alexandria: _Rev. Arch._ 1887, p. 199.)\n~eupsu/chei meta\\ tou= Osei/ridos~, _I. Sic. et It._ 2098. The dead\nman is with Osiris, _Ep._ 414, 5. Osiris as lord in the world of the\nblessed: _defixio_ from Rome, _I. Sic. et It._ 1047; ~ho me/gas\nO/seiris ho e/ch\u00f4n t\u00ea\\n katexousi/an kai\\ to\\ basi/leion t\u00f4=n\nnerte/r\u00f4n the\u00f4=n~.--It appears that the legend of the fountain of\nMnemosyne and its cold water was independently developed by the\nGreeks and then associated subsequently with the analogous Egyptian\nidea or brought into harmony with it (certainly not as e.g.\nB\u00f6ttiger, _Kl. Schr._, thinks, originally belonging to the Egyptians\nalone and thence imported into Greece from Egypt). Egyptian Books of\nthe dead often speak of the cool water that the dead enjoy (cf.\nMaspero, _\u00c9t. de mythol. et d'arch. \u00e9gypt._ 1893, 1, 366 f.), as\nwell as of the water drawn from the Nile and preserving the youth of\nthe dead man: Maspero, _Notices et Extraits_, 24, 1883, pp. 99-100.\nThe formula, \"may Osiris give you the cold water\" (everlasting life),\ndoes not seem to occur on original Egyptian monuments. It is prob.\ntherefore modelled by Egyptian Greeks on their own ancient Greek\nformula.--On Christian inss. we often have the formula: _spiritum\ntuum dominus_ (or _deus Christus_, or a holy martyr) _refrigeret_:\nsee Kraus, _Realencykl. d. christl. Alterth._ s.v. _refrigerium_.\nThis is probably, as has been frequently suggested, an imitation of\nthe heathen formula, like so many features of early Christian burial\nusage.]\n\n[153\\15: On sarcophagi in Isauria the lion is sometimes represented\non the lid with the inscr. describing the contents: ~ho dei=na z\u00f4=n\nkai\\ phron\u00f4=n ane/th\u00eaken _heauto\\n le/onta_ kai\\ t\u00ea\\n gunai=ka\nautou= prote/ran~, etc. On another sarcophagus: ~Lou/kios ane/st\u00ease~\n(three names) ~kai\\ _heauto\\n aeto\\n_ kai\\ A/mmoukin Babo/ou to\\n\npate/ra _aeto\\n_ teim\u00ea=s cha/rin~, _American School at Athens_, iii,\np. 26, 91-2. These expressions must refer to something quite\ndifferent from the otherwise not uncommon practice of representing\nlions or eagles on graves. I can only explain them on the\nsupposition that the dead persons represent themselves and the\nrelatives named in the forms which had belonged to them in the\nmysteries of Mithras, in which lions and lionesses formed the fourth\ngrade, and eagles, ~aetoi/~ (or ~hie/rakes~) the seventh (cf.\nPorph., _Abst._ iv, 16); these are elsewhere called ~pate/res~.]\n\n[154\\15: The soul of a dead son (who as it appears from ll. 1, 2, 6\nff. had been killed by a flash of lightning and therefore removed to\na higher state of being [see Append. i]) appears by night to his\nmother and confirms her own assertion, ~ouk \u00ea/m\u00ean broto/s~, _Ep._\n320. The soul of their daughter who has died ~a/\u00f4ros~ and\n~athala/meutos~ appears to her parents on the ninth day (l. 35)\nafter death, 372, 31 ff. (The ninth day marks the end of the first\nofferings to the dead: see above, chap. v, n. 84; cf. \"Apparitions\nof the deceased occur most frequently on the ninth day after death\":\na German superstition mentioned by Grimm, 1812, n. 856.) It is\nsignificant that the daughter who thus appears in a vision has died\nunmarried. The ~a/gamoi~, like the ~a/\u00f4roi~, do not find rest after\ndeath: see Append. vii and iii. The {577} soul of another unmarried\nmaiden says distinctly that those like herself are especially able\nto appear in dreams: ~_\u00ea\u00efthe/ois_ ga\\r e/d\u00f4ke theo\\s meta\\ moi=ran\nole/thron h\u00f4s z\u00f4/ousi lalei=n pa=sin epichthoni/ois~, _Ep._ 325,\n7-8.--It becomes more general, however, in 522, 12-13: ~s\u00f4/mata\nga\\r kate/luse Di/k\u00ea, psuch\u00ea\\ de\\ propa=sa atha/natos di' ho/lou~\n(thus the stone, _Ath. Mitt._ xiv, 193) ~p\u00f4t\u00f4me/n\u00ea pa/nt' epakou/ei~\n(cf. Eur., _Orest._ 667 ff.).]\n\n[155\\15: ~psuch\u00ea\\ de\\~--says his son and pupil to the dead physician\nPhiladelphos--~ek rhethe/\u00f4n ptame/n\u00ea meta\\ dai/monas a/llous \u00ea/luthe\ns\u00ea/, nai/es d' en maka/r\u00f4n dape/d\u00f4|, hi/lathi kai/ moi o/paze no/s\u00f4n\na/kos, h\u00f4s to\\ pa/roithen, nu=n ga\\r theiote/r\u00ean moi=ran e/cheis\nbio/tou~, _Ep._ 243, 5 ff. (_Inscr. Perg._ ii, 576).]\n\n[156\\15: There is a striking conjunction of the most exalted hope\nand the most utter unbelief on a single stone: _Ep._ 261.]\n\n[157\\15: ~ei/ ge/ ti e/sti (este/) ka/t\u00f4~, _CIG._ 6442.--~kata\\ g\u00ea=s\nei/per chr\u00eastoi=s ge/ras esti/n~, _Ep._ 48, 6; 63, 3. ~ei/ g' en\nphthime/noisi/ tis ai/sth\u00easis, te/knon, esti/n~--_Ep._ 700, 4. ~ei\nde/ ti/s esti no/os para\\ Tarta/r\u00f4| \u00ea\\ para\\ L\u00ea/th\u00ea|~, 722, 5. ~ei\nge/nos eusebe/\u00f4n z\u00f4/ei meta\\ te/rma bi/oio~, _AP._ vii, 673.--Cf.\nabove, chap. xii, n. 17.]\n\n[158\\15: Call., _Epigr._ 15; _Ep._ 646; 646a (p. xv); 372, 1 ff.]\n\n[159\\15: ~h\u00eamei=s de\\ pa/ntes hoi ka/t\u00f4, tethn\u00eako/tes, oste/a,\nte/phra gego/namen, a/llo d' oude\\ he/n~, _Ep._ 646, 5 f.; cf. 298,\n3-4. ~ek gai/as blast\u00f4\\n gai=a pa/lin ge/gona~, 75 (third century\nB.C.); cf. 438; 311, 5: ~tou=th' ho/ pot' \u00f4/n~ (the I that was once\nliving has now become these things, viz.), ~st\u00ea/l\u00ea, tu/mbos,\nli/thos, eik\u00f4/n~. 513, 2, ~kei=tai anai/sth\u00eatos h\u00f4/sper li/thos~\n(cf. Thgn. 567 f.) ~\u00eae\\ si/d\u00earos~. 551, 3, ~kei=tai li/thos h\u00f4/s, h\u00ea\npa/nsophos, h\u00ea peri/b\u00f4tos~.]\n\n[160\\15: ~He/st\u00eaken me\\n He/r\u00f4s~ (prob. on the monument) ~heu/d\u00f4n\nhu/pnon, en phthime/nois de\\ ou po/thos, ou philo/t\u00eas e/sti\nkatoichome/nois. all' ho than\u00f4\\n kei=tai pedi/\u00f4| li/thos hoi=a\npep\u00eag\u00f4/s, eich\u00f4/r\u00f4n apal\u00f4=n sa/rkas aposkeda/sas--ex hu/datos kai\\\ng\u00ea=s kai\\ pneu/matos~ (here evidently not in the Stoic sense, but\nsimply = ~a\u00ea/r~) ~\u00eaa pa/roithen; alla\\ than\u00f4\\n kei=mai pa=si~ (all\nthe elements) ~ta\\ pa/nt' apodou/s. pa=sin tou=to me/nei; ti/ de\\\nto\\ ple/on? hoppo/then \u00ea=lthen, eis tou=t' au=t' elu/th\u00ea s\u00f4=ma\nmaraino/menon~ (inscr. in Bucharest; Gomperz, _Arch. epigr. Mitt. a.\nOest._ vi, 30).]\n\n[161\\15: ~pneu=ma lab\u00f4\\n da/nos ourano/then tele/sas chro/non\nantape/d\u00f4ka~, _Ep._ 613, 6. (This is a commonplace of popular\nphilosophy: \"life is only lent to man\"; see Wyttenbach on Plu.,\n_Cons. ad Apoll._ 106 F; Upton on Epict. 1, 1, 32 Schw.; cf. usura\nvitae _Anth. Lat. Ep._ ed. B\u00fccheler, i, p. 90, n. 183.)]\n\n[162\\15: Epitaph from Amorgos: _Ath. Mitt._ 1891, p. 176, which\nends: ~to\\ te/los ape/d\u00f4ka~.]\n\n[163\\15: ~dai/m\u00f4n ho pikro\\s ktl.~, _Ep._ 127, 3 (cf. 59).\n~asto/rgou moi=ra ki/chen thana/tou~, 146, 6. ~di/ssa de\\ te/kna\nlipou=san ha pantoba/r\u00eas la/be m' Ha/id\u00eas, a/kriton a/storgon\nth\u00earo\\s e/ch\u00f4n kradi/\u00ean~ (Tyrrheion in Akarnania, _BCH._ 1886, p.\n178).]\n\n[164\\15: ~pau/sasthai deinou= pe/nthous deinou= te kudoimou=; oude\\n\nga\\r ple/on (PACIN~ the stone as stated) ~esti/, thano/nta ga\\r\noude/na~ (read ~oude\\n~) ~egei/rei ktl.~, ins. from Larisa, _Ath.\nMitt._ xi, 451. ~ei d' \u00ea=n tou\\s agathou\\s ana/gein pa/lin~, ins.\nfrom Pherai, _BCH._ 1889, p. 404.]\n\n[165\\15: ~ou kako/s est' Ai/d\u00eas~--comfort being derived from the\nfact that death is \"common\". _Ep._ 256, 9-10; 282; 292, 6; 298.]\n\n[166\\15: ~eupsu/chei, te/knon, oudei\\s atha/natos~, _IG. Sic. et\nIt._ 1531; 1536 (cf. 1743 ad fin.); 1997 and frequent; _CIG._ 4463;\n4467 (Syria), ~eupsu/chei Atala/nt\u00ea, ho/sa genna=tai teleuta=|~, _IG.\nSic. et It._ 1832. ~kai\\ ho H\u00earakl\u00ea=s ape/thanen~, 1806.--Even on\nChristian graves the formula is frequent: ~eupsu/chei (h\u00ea dei=na),\noudei\\s atha/natos~ (see Schultze, _Die Katakomben_, 251).] {578}\n\n[167\\15: ~ouk \u00ea/m\u00ean, geno/m\u00ean, ouk e/som' ou me/kei moi; ho bi/os\ntau=ta~. _IG. Sic. et It._ 2190 (the original form of the ending is\nprobably ~ouk e/somai; ti/ ple/on~; see Gomperz, _Arch. ep. Mitt.\nOesterr._ vii, 149; _Ztschr. f. \u00f6st. Gymn._ 1879, p. 437); cf. _Ep._\n1117, ~ouk \u00ea/m\u00ean, geno/m\u00ean, \u00ea/m\u00ean, ouk eimi/; tosau=ta;~ (this\n_~tosau=ta~_, or more commonly _~tau=ta~_, is frequent in epitaphs\nas a formula of resignation--a summary of existence: \"all life comes\nto nothing but this.\" See Loch, _Zu d. griech. Grabschr._\n289-95)--~ei de/ tis a/llo here/ei, pseu/setai; ouk e/somai~. _CIG._\n6265: ~eupsuch\u00f4=, ho/stis ouk \u00ea/m\u00ean kai\\ egeno/m\u00ean, ou/k eimi kai\\\nou lupou=mai~ (cf. also _Ep._ 502, 15; 646, 14; _AP._ vii, 339, 5-6;\nx, 118, 3-4). Frequent also in a Latin form: Non eris, nec fuisti,\nSen., _Epist._ 77, 11 (see above, chap. xiv, pt. i, n. 68).\nAusonius, p. 252, ed. Schenkl (ex sepulchro latinae viae): nec sum\nnec fueram; genitus tamen e nihilo sum. mitte nec explores singula,\ntalis eris (probably this is how it should be read); cf. _CIL._ ii,\n1434; v, 1813, 1939, 2893; viii, 2885, etc.; B\u00fccheler, _Carm. lat.\nepigr._ i, p. 116.]\n\n[168\\15: ~gnou\\s h\u00f4s thnatoi=s oude\\n gluker\u00f4/teron auga=s z\u00ea=thi~,\n_Ep._ 560, 7. Coarser admonitions to enjoy the passing hour, _CIG._\n3846 (iii, p. 1070). _Ep._ 362, 5. ~pai=son, tru/ph\u00eason, z\u00ea=son;\napothanei=n se dei=~, 439, 480a, 7. An ins. from Saloniki, second\ncentury A.D., _Ath. Mitt._ 1896, p. 99, concludes--~ho bi/os\nhou=tos. ti/ st\u00ea/hkeis anthr\u00f4pe? tau=ta ble/p\u00f4n UPALOUSOU\n(_apo/lauson_~? Or ~_apolau/ou_~?).]\n\n[169\\15: ~ei kai\\ . . . phrou=don s\u00f4=ma . . . all' areta\\ biota=s\naie\\n z\u00f4oi=si me/testi, psucha=s manu/ous' eukle/a s\u00f4phrosu/n\u00ean~,\n_Ep._ 560, 10 ff. ~s\u00f4=ma me\\n entha/d' e/chei so/n, Di/phile, gai=a\nthano/ntos, mn\u00ea=ma de\\ s\u00ea=s e/lipes pa=si dikaiosu/n\u00eas~ (and\nelsewhere with variations): _Ep._ 56-8. Or only: . . ~te/lesen de\\\nkai\\ essome/noisi no\u00ea=sai st\u00ea/l\u00ean~, _Ath. Mitt._ 1891, p. 263, 3\n(Thessaly). Homeric: see above, chap. i, n. 88, and cf. ~sa=ma toz'\nIdameneu\\s poi/\u00easa hi/na kle/\u00f4s ei/\u00ea . . .~ ancient inscr. from\nRhodos: _Ath. Mitt._ 1891, p. 112, 243 (_IGM. Aeg._ i, n. 737).]\n\n[170\\15: From an earlier period (_ca._ third century B.C.), _Ep._\n44: ~\u00ea\\n ho su/neunos e/sterxen me\\n z\u00f4=san epe/nth\u00easen de\\\nthanou=san. ph\u00f4=s d' e/lip' eudai/m\u00f4n, pai=das pai/d\u00f4n epidou=sa~.\nFine also are 67 and 81b. But something like them appears even late:\n647, 5-10; 556: a priestess of Zeus congratulates herself ~eu/teknon\nastona/ch\u00eaton e/chei ta/phos; ou ga\\r amaur\u00f4=s dai/mones h\u00eamete/r\u00ean\ne/blepon eusebi/\u00ean~.--To recover for a moment the taste of the old\nrobust spirit we may remind ourselves of Herodotos' story of Tellos\nthe Athenian, the happiest of mankind. He was born in a prosperous\ncity, had fine children and saw the children of all these children,\nnone of whom died. And his happy life was crowned by a noble end. In\na battle of the Athenians against their neighbours he was successful\nin putting the foe to rout and then he himself fell while fighting,\nso that his country buried him in the place where he fell and\nhonoured him greatly. (Hdt. i, 30. Herodotos' Solon does indeed\nassign the second prize of happiness to Kleobis and Biton and their\nfortunate end: c. 31. A changed attitude to life makes itself felt\nin their story.)]\n\n[171\\15: Mundus senescens, Cyprian, _ad Demetr._ 3 ff. The\nChristians lay the blame for the impoverishment and decay of life on\nthe heathen. The latter in turn blame the recently arrived and now\ndominant Christianity for the unhappiness of the time: Tertull.,\n_Apol._ 40 ff.; Arnob. 1; Aug., _CD._ It was already a vulgare\nproverbium--Pluvia defit, causa Christiani sunt, _CD._ ii, 3. The\nEmp. Julian found ~t\u00ea\\n oikoume/n\u00ean h\u00f4/sper lipopsuchou=san~ and\nwished ~t\u00ea\\n phthora\\n t\u00ea=s oikoume/n\u00eas st\u00ea=sai~, Liban., _Or._ i,\np. 617, 10; 529, 4.--The Christians returned the compliment: the\nreason why everything in nature and the life {579} of men was going\nawry is simply paganorum exacerbata perfidia (_Leg. Novell. Theodos.\nii_, i, 3, p. 10 Ritt.).]\n\n[172\\15: We know of a certain Nikagoras Minuc. f. (significantly\nenough an ardent admirer of Plato) temp. Const. ~da|dou=chos t\u00f4=n\nhagi\u00f4ta/t\u00f4n Eleusi=ni must\u00eari/\u00f4n~, _CIG._ 4770. Julian, even as a\nboy, was initiated at Eleusis: Eunap., _V. Soph._, p. 53 (Boiss.).\nAt that time, however, in miserandam ruinam conciderat Eleusina,\nMamert., _Act. Jul._ 9. Here again Julian seems to have restored the\ncult. Valentinian I, on the point of abolishing all nocturnal\nfestivals (see _Cod. Theod. iii_, 9, 16, 7), allowed them to\ncontinue when Praetextatus Procons. of Achaea represented to him\nthat for the Greeks ~ho bi/os~ would be ~abi/\u00f4tos, ei me/lloien\nk\u00f4lu/esthai ta\\ sune/chonta to\\ anthr\u00f4/peion ge/nos hagi\u00f4/tata\nmust\u00ea/ria kata\\ thesmo\\n ektelei=n~, Zosim. iv, 3. (Praetext. was a\nfriend of Symmachus and, like him, one of the last pillars of Roman\northodoxy: _princeps religiosorum_, Macr., _S._ i, 11, 1. He was\nhimself _sacratus Eleusiniis_, and _hierophanta_ there: _CIL._ vi,\n1779; probably the ~Praite/xtatos ho hieropha/nt\u00eas~ of Lyd., _Mens._\n4, 2, p. 148 R. [p. 65 W.], is the same person.) In 375 A.D. we hear\nof a Nestorius (probably the father of the Neoplatonic Plutarch) as\n~hierophantei=n tetagme/nos~ at the time (Zos. iv, 18). In 396\nduring the _hierophantia_ of a ~pat\u00ea\\r t\u00ea=s Mithriak\u00ea=s telet\u00ea=s~\n(whose oath should have excluded him from that office) the temple of\nEleusis was destroyed by Alaric, incited thereto by the monks who\naccompanied him (Eunap., _VS._, p. 52-3). The regular holding of the\nfestival must then have come to an end.--Evidence of later\ncelebration of the Eleusinia is not forthcoming. The expressions of\nProclus, which Maass regards as \"certainly\" proving that the\nfestival was still being held in the fifth century (_Orpheus_, 15),\nare quite insufficient to the purpose. Proclus speaks of various\nsacred ceremonies of initiation from which we ~memath\u00ea/kamen~\nsomething: of a ~ph\u00ea/m\u00ea~, i.e. written tradition, of certain\nunspecified Eleusinian ~theolo/goi~; of what the Eleus. mysteries\n~hupischnou=ntai~ to the _mystai_ (just as we might speak in the\npresent tense of the permanent content of Greek religion). These\npassages prove nothing: whereas the imperfects which he uses\nelsewhere clearly show that neither temple nor festival existed any\nlonger in his time. (He speaks, _in Alc._, p. 5 Crz., of what used\nto be in the temple of Eleusis and still more of what formerly\noccurred ~en toi=s Eleusini/ois hieroi=s--ebo/\u00f4n ktl.~, _in Ti._ 293\nC.) The festival moreover cannot have gone on without the temple and\nits apparatus.]\n\n[173\\15: The Orphic hymns in the form in which we have them all\nbelong as it seems to one period, and that can hardly have been\nearlier than the third century A.D. They are all composed for\npractical use in the cult, and that presupposes the existence of\nOrphic communities (see Sch\u00f6ll, _Commun. et coll. quib. Graec._\n[_Sat. Saupp._], p. 14 ff.; Dieterich, _de H. Orph._).--It must be\nadmitted that they were not purely and exclusively Orphic\ncommunities for which the poems were written. These hymns, called\n\"Orphic\" a potiori, make use in parts of older Orphic poetry (cf.\n_H._ 62, 2 f., with [Dem.] 25, 11).]\n\n[174\\15: Probably all these cults promised immortality to their\n_mystai_. This is certain in the worship of Isis (cf. Burckhardt,\n_Zeit Constantins d. G._^2, p. 195 ff.). Apul., _M._ xi, 21-3,\nalludes to symbolic death and reawakening to everlasting life as the\nsubject of the ~dr\u00f4/mena~ in the Isis mysteries. The initiated is\nthus _renatus_ (21). In the same way the mystai of Mithras are said\nto be _in aeternum renati_: _CIL._ vi, 510; 736. Immortality must\ncertainly have been promised. Acc. to Tert., _Pr. Haer._ 40, the\nmysteries of Mithras {580} included an _imago resurrectionis_. By\nthis the Christian author can only understand a real ~ana/stasis\nt\u00ea=s sarko/s~. Did these mysteries promise to their ~ho/sioi~ a\nresurrection of the body and everlasting life? This belief in the\n~ana/stasis nekr\u00f4=n~ (always a difficulty for the Greeks: _Act Ap._\nxvii, 18; 32; Plotin. 3, 6, 6 fin.) is in fact ancient Persian\n(Theopomp. _fr._ 71-2; H\u00fcbschmann, _Jb. Prot. Theol._ v, p. 222\nff.), and probably came to the Jews from Persia. It is possible then\nthat it may have been the essential idea of the Mithras\nmysteries.--Hopes of immortality as they appeared to the _mystai_ of\nSabazios are illustrated by the sculptures of the monument of Vibia\n(in the Catac. of Praetextatus), and of Vincentius: numinis antistes\nSabazis Vincentius hic est. Qui sacra sancta deum mente pia coluit\n(Garrucci, _Tre Sepolcri_, etc., tab. i-iii, Nap. 1852).--It is\ndifficult to see why Christian archeologists should regard this\nVincentius as a Christian. He calls himself a worshipper of \"the\ngods\" and an _antistes Sabazii_ (there cannot be the slightest\nobjection to giving this meaning to numinis antistes Sabazis. The\ndifficulties raised by Schultze, _Katakomben_, 44, are groundless:\nSabazis = Sabazii is no more objectionable or doubtful than the\n**genitives Clodis, Helis: see Ritschl, _Opusc._ iv, 454-6. The\narrangement of words, _n. a. Sab._, is due to the exigencies of\nmetre.]\n\n[175\\15: ~h\u00ea o/rexis tou= agathou= eis he\\n o/nt\u00f4s a/gei kai\\ epi\\\ntou=to speu/dei pa=sa phu/sis~, Plot. 6, 5, 1. ~pa/nta ore/getai\nekei/nou kai\\ ephi/etai autou= phu/se\u00f4s ana/gk\u00ea| . . . h\u00f4s a/neu\nautou= ou du/natai ei=nai~, 5, 5, 12; 1, 8, 2. ~pothei= de\\ pa=n to\\\ngenn\u00ea=san~ (the ~nou=s~ desires the ~pr\u00f4=ton~, the ~psuch\u00ea/~ the\n~nou=s~): 5, 1, 6.]\n\n[176\\15: ~hai e/x\u00f4 tou= aisth\u00eatou= geno/menai (psuchai/)~, Plot. 3,\n4, 6. In death ~ana/gein to\\ en h\u00eami=n thei=on pro\\s to\\ en t\u00f4=|\npa/nti thei=on~, Porph., _V. Plot._ 2. Return ~eis patri/da~, Plot.,\n5, 9, 1.]\n\n[177\\15: 2, 9, esp. \u00a7 16 ff.]\n\n[178\\15: ~to\\ me\\n ga\\r aischro\\n enanti/on kai\\ t\u00ea=| phu/sei kai\\\nt\u00f4=| the\u00f4=|~, 3, 5, 1.]\n\n[179\\15: Flight from the ~en s\u00f4/mati ka/llos~ to the ~t\u00ea=s psuch\u00ea=s\nka/ll\u00ea~, etc., 5, 9, 2. And again in the fine treatise, ~p. tou=\nkalou=~, 1, 6, 8. Though even here it is in a different sense from\nthat in which Plato speaks in the _Symp._ of the ascent from ~kala\\\ns\u00f4/mata~ to ~kala\\ epit\u00eadeu/mata~, etc. Plotinos protests\nenergetically against the idea that his own sense of beauty makes\nhim any the less ~pheu/gein to\\ s\u00f4=ma~ than the hatred of beauty\ncultivated by the Gnostics: 2, 9, 18. He too waits here below, only\na little less impatiently, for the time when he will be able to say\nfarewell to every earthly habitation: ib.]\n\n[180\\15: ~. . . kai\\ hou/t\u00f4 the\u00f4=n kai\\ anthr\u00f4/p\u00f4n thei/\u00f4n kai\\\neudaimo/n\u00f4n bi/os apallag\u00ea\\ t\u00f4=n t\u00ea=|de, bi/os an\u00ea/donos t\u00f4=n\nt\u00ea=|de, phug\u00ea\\ mo/nou pro\\s mo/non~, 6, 9, 11 fin.]\n\n\n{{581}}\n\nAPPENDIX I\n\n\nIn many legends death by _lightning_ makes the victim holy and\nraises him to godlike (everlasting) life. We need only remember the\nstory of Semele who now ~z\u00f4/ei en Olumpi/ois apothanoi=sa bro/m\u00f4|\nkeraunou=~ (Pi., _O._ ii, 27), or that of Herakles and his vanishing\nfrom the pyre of wood lighted by Zeus' flash of lightning (see\npartic. D.S. 4, 38, 4-5), or the parallel accounts of the\ntranslation or death by lightning of Erechtheus (above, chap. iii,\nn. 39). The primitive, popular belief finds unusually clear\nexpression in the words of Charax ap. Anon. _de Incred._ xvi, p.\n325, 5 ff. West., who says of Semele, ~keraunou= katask\u00ea/psantos\n\u00eaphani/sth\u00ea; ekei/n\u00ean me\\n ou=n, _hopoi=a epi\\ toi=s diobl\u00ea/tois\nle/getai, thei/as moi/ras lachei=n \u00f4|\u00ea/th\u00easan_~. (In this account\nSemele is _immediately_ raised to heaven by the flash of\nlightning--a version of the story frequently given by later authors:\n~Zeu\\s t\u00ea\\n Seme/l\u00ean ek t\u00ea=s g\u00ea=s eis to\\n O/lumpon komi/zei dia\\\npuro/s~, Aristid. 1, p. 47 Dind. [_O._ 41, 3 K.]. Cf. Philostr.,\n_Imag._ i, 14; Nonnus, _D._ viii, 409 ff. The passage of Pindar\nquoted above would also admit of a similar interpretation.)\nGenerally speaking, ~ho keraun\u00f4thei\\s h\u00f4s theo\\s tima=tai~ (Artem.\n2, 9, p. 94, 26) as one ~hupo\\ Dio\\s tetim\u00eame/nos~ (ib. 93, 24). The\nbelief in such elevation of a mortal through the disruption and\npurification of his body by the sacred fire of lightning (a ~pu=r\nkatha/rsion~ of the highest kind--see chap. i, n. 41) need not be of\nlate origin simply because it so happens that only late authorities\nspeak of it in unmistakable terms (as Wilamowitz thinks, _Ind.\nSchol. G\u00f6tting. hib._ 1895, pp. 12-13). Such lofty conceptions were\nby this time no longer the product of popular imagination. Besides,\nit is quite clearly referred to in the above-mentioned story of\nSemele (see esp. D.S. 5, 52, 2) and in those of Herakles,\nErechtheus, Asklepios. In the same way lightning struck the tomb of\nLykourgos (as afterwards that of Euripides) as ~theophile/statos\nkai\\ hosi\u00f4/tatos~ (Plu., _Lyc._ 31). When the statues of the Olympic\nvictor Euthymos at Locri and Olympia are struck by lightning it\nshows that he has become a Hero: Pliny, _NH._ vii, 152. The body of\nthe person struck by lightning remains uncorruptible: dogs and birds\nof prey dare not touch it: Plu., _Smp._ 4, 2, 3, p. 665 B; it must\nbe buried in the place where the lightning struck it (Artem., p. 95,\n6; cf. Fest., p. 178b, 21 ff.; Plin., _NH._ ii, 145). Every detail\nshows plainly that the ~dio/bl\u00eatos~ was regarded as holy. This,\nhowever, does not prevent death by lightning from being regarded on\nother occasions as the punishment of crime--as in the cases of\nSalmoneus, Kapaneus, etc.; though in some even of these cases the\nidea is occasionally present that the lightning's victim is raised\nto a higher existence. This is distinctly so when Euripides in\n_Suppl._ makes a character call Kapaneus, who has been killed by\nlightning, a ~_hiero\\s_ nekro/s~ (935) and his ~tu/mbos~ (_rogus_)\n~hiero/s~ too (981). ~hiero/s~ never means {582} \"accursed\" like the\nLat. _sacer_: it is invariably a title of honour. Kapaneus is here\ncalled \"holy\" just as Astakides, on his translation to everlasting\nlife, is ~hiero/s~ in Kallimachos; and as Hesiod speaks of the\n~hiero\\n ge/nos athana/t\u00f4n~ (with ~tu/mbos hiero/s~ cf. S., _OC._\n1545, 1763). We must not fail to observe that in this passage, where\na friend of Kap. is supposed to be speaking, the latter is certainly\nnot regarded by Eurip. as an impious person (as he is generally in\nTragedy, and by Eurip. himself in _Phoen._, and even in _Suppl._ the\nenemy so regards him (496 ff.), though acc. to this speaker\nAmphiaraos too is snatched away in atonement for his crime).\nEuripides in fact makes him highly praised by Adrastos (861 ff.) as\nthe very opposite of a ~hubrist\u00ea/s~; and it is obvious that Euadne's\nsacrifice of her life which immediately follows is not intended to\nbe offered for the benefit of a criminal and enemy of the gods. For\nthese reasons Euripides ennobles the character of Kapaneus and,\nconsequently, the death of the Hero by lightning can no longer stand\nfor his punishment, but is on the contrary a distinction. He becomes\na ~_hiero\\s_ nekro/s~. This, however, could not have been done by\nEurip. unless the view that such a death might in certain\ncircumstances bring honour on the victim and elevate him to a higher\nplane of being, had been at that time widespread and generally\nrecognized. Eurip. therefore provides the most distinct evidence for\nthe existence of such a belief in his time. (As one of the exalted\ndead Kapaneus is to be separated from the rest of the dead and burnt\n~par' oi/kous tou/sde~: 935, 936, 1009--i.e. before the ~ana/ktoron~\nof the Goddesses at Eleusis: 88, 290.)--Finally Asklepios, in all\nthe stories that are told of his death by lightning (and already in\nHes. _fr._ 109 Rz.), is never regarded as entirely removed from this\nlife: he lives on as Hero or god for all time, dispensing blessings.\nZeus allows him to live on for ever immortal (Luc., _DD._ 13), and\nacc. to later versions of the story, in the constellation Ophiuchus\n(Eratosth. ~katast.~ 6; Hygin., _Astron_, ii, 14); the real and\nprimitive conception evidently being that he was transported to\neverlasting life by Zeus' lightning-flash. So Min. Fel. 22, 7, says\nquite rightly: Aesculapius, ut in deum surgat, fulminatur.\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX II\n\n\n~_maschalismo/s_~\n\n~emaschali/sth\u00ea~ is the word used by Aesch., _Cho._ 439, of the\nmurdered Agamemnon. Soph., _El._ 445, says ~huph' h\u00ea=s\n(Klutaimn\u00ea/stras) than\u00f4\\n a/timos h\u00f4/ste dusmen\u00ea\\s\nemaschali/sth\u00ea~--also of Agamemnon. What particular abomination was\nmeant by this brief statement must have been immediately understood\nby the Athenian public of the day. A more detailed account is given\nby Phot. and Suid. ~maschali/smata~ (cf. Hesych. s.v.; Apostol.,\n_Pr._ xi, 4), and they give Aristophanes of Byzantium as their\nauthority. (Not from Aristophanes--for they differ in many\nparticulars--but from a closely related source come the two versions\n{583} of the Scholion to Soph., _El._ 446 and _EM._ 118, 22 f.)\nAccording to their authority ~maschalismo/s~ is something done by\nthe murderer (~hoi phoneu/santes ex epiboul\u00ea=s~--Aristoph.) to the\ncorpse of the murdered man. He cuts off the extremities of his\nvictim, strings the severed parts on a chain and puts them on.--On\nwhom? on himself? or the murdered man? Aristophanes' words are\nundecisive: the Schol. Soph., _El._ 445, speaks in the first version\nof \"himself\" (~heautoi=s~, p. 123, 17 Papag.) and in the second of\n\"him\", i.e. the murdered man: ~peri\\ t\u00ea\\n mascha/l\u00ean autou=\nekre/mazon auta/ [ta\\ a/kra]~, p. 123, 23; cf. 124, 5. This too is\nprobably the meaning of Schol. Ap. Rh. iv, 477; _EM._ 118, 28-9,\nspeaks distinctly of hanging the chain round the neck of the dead\nman. This is, in fact, the most probable version. The murderer hung\nthe limbs, strung together on a rope, round the neck of his victim\nand then drew the rope under the armpits (~mascha/lai~): a\nproceeding which is far from being \"impossible\" (as has been said),\nas anyone may discover by trying it for himself. The murderer then\ncrossed the ends of the rope over the breast of his victim and after\ndrawing them under the armpits fastened them behind his back. From\nthis process of drawing under the armpits the whole procedure is\ncalled ~maschalismo/s~, and the ~mo/ria~ of the dead man thus\nfastened to his body are his ~maschali/smata~ (Aristoph.).\n\nAnyone who wishes to reject this description of ~maschalismo/s~ (as\nsome have done recently) must first of all show from what source\nAristophanes of Byzantium--whom no one who knows him would accuse of\nimprovizing such details or of concealing his ignorance by\ninvention--can have got his information if not from actual report\nand historical tradition. The possibility that he arrived at it by\nstraining the meaning and giving a private interpretation of his own\nto the words ~maschali/zein~ and ~maschalismo/s~ is excluded by the\nnature of these words. They offer no hint whatever in the direction\nof the special meaning suggested by his account. We cannot indeed\nsay (as Wilamowitz does on A., _Cho._ 439) that \"grammar\" forbids us\nto accept the explanation of what happened in ~maschali/zein~ given\nby Aristoph. To say: ~emaschali/sth\u00ea~, \"he had to suffer\n~maschali/zein, maschalismo/s~,\" is equally correct whatever sense\nwe give to the process of ~maschalismo/s~. But the word itself does\nnot testify, by its mere form, to the absolute or exclusive\ncorrectness of Aristophanes' interpretation: it denotes without\ndistinction absolutely any proceeding in which the ~mascha/lai~\nfigure at all. Verbs in ~-izein~, derived from the names of parts of\nthe body, can denote according to the circumstances the utmost\nvariety of actions done to or with the part of the body concerned:\ncf. ~kephali/zein, aucheni/zein, trach\u00eali/zein, laimi/zein,\n\u00f4mi/zein, rhachi/zein, cheiri/zein, daktuli/zein, gastri/zein,\nskeli/zein~ (and even ~pugi/zein~). What particular sort of activity\napplied to the ~mascha/lai~ is indicated by the verb ~maschali/zein~\ncannot be decided from the mere form of the verb. This only makes it\nthe more necessary to adhere to Aristophanes' interpretation, which\nmust have been derived from some other source, i.e. from actual\nknowledge. It may be true that ~maschali/zein~, considered simply\nfrom {584} the point of view of its form, might conceivably mean to\ntear the arm from the shoulder at the armpits (as Benndorf suggests,\n_Monument von Adamklissi_, p. 132 A)--though such an ~ekmochleu/ein\nto\\n brachi/ona ek t\u00ea=s mascha/l\u00eas~ should rather be\n~apomaschali/zein~ or ~ekmaschali/zein~. But that out of its many\npossible meanings the verb should have just this particular one is\nnot suggested by anything: least of all by the sculptured relief on\nwhich the gods appear to be tearing out the right arms of their\ndefeated enemies. Such scenes according to Benndorf represent\n~maschalismo/s~. But can the Greeks really have attributed to the\ngods this much execrated practice of cowardly murderers? We are not\ntold by anyone that this scene represents ~maschalismo/s~--that is\nonly a conclusion drawn from an apparent agreement between the\nrepresentation and the view (itself as yet unproved) of what\nhappened in ~maschali/zein~. Is the correctness of the meaning\nassigned to the word to be proved in its turn from its agreement\nwith the representation? A most palpable argument in a circle!\n\nThere is no valid reason for rejecting the statement of\nAristophanes; and there must be very good reason indeed for so doing\nbefore we may discredit such an authority. He gives his information\nwith no uncertain voice and no suggestion of hesitation, and it must\nbe regarded as the simple account of well-established facts. It\nwould receive additional confirmation--if it needed any--from the\nvery meaning and conception of the word _~mascha/lisma~_.\n~maschali/smata~ must be the product of ~maschalismo/s~; they are,\nin fact, the severed ~mo/ria~ of the murdered man, with which too\nAristophanes identifies them. ~Sophokl\u00ea=s en **Tr\u00f4\u00ef/l\u00f4| pl\u00ea/r\u00ea\nmaschalisma/t\u00f4n ei/r\u00eake to\\n maschalismo/n~ (probably a mere\noversight for ~to\\n tra/ch\u00ealon~): Suid. s.v. ~emaschali/sth\u00ea~ (Soph.\n_fr._ 566 = 623 P.). If ~maschali/zein~ had consisted in the\ndislocation of the arm from its socket, it would be impossible to\nsay what such ~maschali/smata~ might be. They are without doubt\nidentical with what are otherwise called, in descriptions of\nmutilations of the corpse of a murdered man, ~apa/rgmata~ (Jason\nafter the murder of Apsyrtos ~apa/rgmata ta/mne thano/ntos~, A.R.\niv, 477; cf. Schol. and _EM._ 118, 22 ff.), ~akr\u00f4t\u00earia/smata, to/mia\n(ta\\ apotm\u00ea/mata kai\\ akr\u00f4t\u00earia/smata tou= nekrou=~, Hesych.). These\nexpressions allow us to conclude that the whole procedure is\nintended to offer the murdered man as a sacrifice to some sort of\n~apotro/paioi~. The ~maschali/smata~ are the ~aparchai/~ of this\nsacrificial victim. Indeed, Aristoph. of Byzantium, ap. Phot.\n[Suid.] ~maschali/smata~, definitely states that ~maschali/smata~\nwas the name given to ~ta\\ toi=s m\u00earoi=s epitithe/mena apo\\ t\u00f4=n\n\u00f4m\u00f4=n~ (not ~\u00f4/m\u00f4n~ as the edd. give; as also Nauck, _Arist. Byz._,\np. 221) ~kre/a en tai=s t\u00f4=n the\u00f4=n thusi/ais~. This refers--though\nit does not seem to have been remarked by those who have hitherto\ndealt with the passage--to the parts of the body which were cut off\nfrom the raw flesh of the ~hierei=on~ before the sacrifice, laid on\nthe severed ~m\u00earoi/~ of the victim, and burnt up completely with\nthese: the _~\u00f4mothetei=n~_ in fact so often mentioned in Homer (~A~\n460 i.; ~B~ 423 f.; ~g~ 456 ff.; ~m~ 360 f.; ~x~ 427 f.). If these\n~\u00f4mothetou/mena~ could also be called (in {585} a comparison)\n~maschali/smata~, that again shows that at the ~maschalismo/s~ there\nwas no tearing out of an arm from its socket, but that in reality\nthe extremities of the murdered man (~--akr\u00f4t\u00earia/santes mo/ria\ntou/tou~) were hewn off and a piece cut off ~ek panto\\s me/rous tou=\ns\u00f4/matos~ as the grammarians following Aristophanes say. Only in\nthis case is the proceeding like that which took place at the\n~\u00f4mothetei=n~ when the sacrificers ~e/kopsan mikro\\n apo\\ panto\\s\n**me/lous~ (Aristonic. in Schol. ~A~ 461; Apollon., _Lex. Hom._ 171,\n8; _lex. Rhet._ ap. Eust. ~A~ 461, p. 134, 36: ~\u00f4mothe/t\u00easan; to\\\naph' heka/stou me/lous tou= hierei/ou apete/monto kai\\ ap\u00ea/rxanto\nap' _\u00f4mou=~ [so the last word should be written here too, though\nEustath. found--and was surprised--~\u00f4/mou~] ~kai\\ ene/balon eis ta\\\nm\u00eari/a kata\\ t\u00ea\\n thusia/n~). So too it is said of Eumaios: ~ho d'\n\u00f4mothetei=to sub\u00f4/t\u00eas, pa/nt\u00f4n arxa/menos mele/\u00f4n~, ~x~ 427 f. (this\nis the passage in which ~h\u00earm\u00ea/neuse [ho poi\u00eat\u00ea/s], ti/ esti to\\\n\u00f4mothetei=n~: Schol., B.L. ~A~ 461; it is this passage, and not ~A~\n461, which is meant by Hesych. too s.v. ~\u00f4mothetei=n~, when he says\n~ex\u00eagei=tai d' auto\\s Ho/m\u00earos~; cf. also Dion. Hal. 7, 72, 15).\n\n~maschalismo/s~ was then essentially an offering intended to avert\nevil or, what comes to the same thing, a kathartic offering (i.e. a\nsymbol indicating such an offering). It was consummated by murderers\n~epi\\ tai=s katha/rsesin~ (Sch. S., _El._ 445); ~hupe\\r tou= t\u00ea\\n\nm\u00ea=nin ekkli/nein~ as Aristoph. Byz. says (p. 221 N.); ~to\\ e/rgon\naphosiou/menoi~ as we are told by Apostolius, _Prov._ xi, 4. All\nthese mean the same thing. But besides these there may still have\nbeen another intention present in the minds of the superstitious.\nThe mutilation of the murdered man took place according to Sch. S.,\n_El._ 445 (in the second version; there is something similar even in\nthe first, p. 123, 18 f.) ~hi/na, phasi/n, asthen\u00ea\\s ge/noito pro\\s\nto\\ antiti/sasthai to\\n phone/a~. The mutilation of the corpse was\ntransferred to the ~psuch\u00ea/~ that was leaving the body--such is the\nancient conception to which Homer too is not a stranger (cf. e.g.\n~l~ 40 ff.). If the dead man is mutilated he will not, for example,\nbe able to hold or throw the spear which in Athens was borne before\nthe murdered man at his funeral (if he left no kinsman as avenger\nbehind him) and was then set up beside his grave ([D.] 47, 69: Eur.,\n_Tro._ 1147 f.: Poll. viii, 65; Ister ap., _EM._ 354, 33 ff.; _AB._\n237, 30 f.)--certainly for no other purpose than that of supplying\nthe dead man himself with a weapon with which to take vengeance on\nhis own account since no one else would ~bo\u00eathei=~ him. (Thus among\nthe Tasmanians a spear was planted on the grave of the dead that he\nmight have a weapon ready for fighting: Quatrefages, _Hommes\nfossiles et hommes sauvages_, p. 346.) Probably the Greek murderer\nwhen he ~emascha/lizen~, calculated in exactly the same fashion as\nthe Australian negro who cuts off the thumb from the right hand of\nhis fallen foe in order that his soul may no longer be able to hold\na spear (Spencer, _Princ. of Sociol._ i, p. 212).\n\nIn Soph., _El._ 446, the murderer after the ~maschalismo/s~ also\nwipes the bloody instrument of death on the head of the murdered\nman. Murderers did this ~h\u00f4/sper apotropiazo/menoi to\\ mu/sos to\\ en\nt\u00f4=| pho/n\u00f4|~ {586} (Schol.). There are passages in the Odyssey\nwhich allude to the custom (~me/ga e/rgon, ho\\ s\u00ea=| kephal\u00ea=|\nanama/xeis~, ~t~ 92) as well as in Herodotos and Demosthenes (see\nSchneidewin on _Electra_). Their meaning is quite correctly given in\nEust. on _Od._ ~t~ 92: ~h\u00f4s eis kephal\u00ea\\n d\u00ea=then ekei/nois (toi=s\npephoneume/nois) trepome/nou tou= kakou=~. Evidently a mimic version\nof ~eis kephal\u00ea\\n soi/~. Something similar is intended when the\nmurderer sucks the blood of the murdered man three times and spits\nit out again three times. Ap. Rh. describes such a scene (iv, 477\nf.); and something similar occurred in Aesch. (_fr._ 354; _EM._\nrefers to this in immediate connexion with ~maschalismo/s~). Here\ntoo the object is the ~ka/tharsis~ of the murderer, the expiation of\nthe impious deed. (~h\u00ea\\ the/mis authe/nt\u00ea|si doloktasi/as\n_hile/asthai_~, A.R.; ~apoptu/sai dei= kai\\ _kath\u00ea/rasthai_ sto/ma~,\nA.) Spitting three times is a regular feature in magic charms and\ncounter-charms: in this case the blood of the murdered man and with\nit the power of vengeance that rises up out of the blood, is\naverted, (despuimus comitiales morbos, hoc est, contagia regerimus,\nPlin., _NH._ 28, 35.)--What \"savage\" tribe ever had more primitive\nideas or a more realistic symbolism than the Greek populace--and\nperhaps not populace only--of classical times in the sinister\nbackwaters of their life into which we have here for a moment\ndescended?\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX III\n\n~_amu/\u00eatoi, a/gamoi_~ AND DANA\u00cfDES IN THE UNDERWORLD\n\n\nIn Polygnotos' picture of the underworld were to be seen the figures\n~t\u00f4=n ou memu\u00eame/\u00f4n, t\u00f4=n ta\\ dr\u00f4/mena Eleusi=ni en oudeno\\s\ntheme/n\u00f4n lo/g\u00f4|~--an old man, a ~pai=s~, a young and an old woman,\nwho bear water to a ~pi/thos~ in broken pitchers: Paus. 10, 31,\n9-11. The myth is evidently founded upon an etymological play on\nwords--those who have neglected the \"completion\" of the holy ~te/l\u00ea~\nand are ~atelei=s hier\u00f4=n~ (_h. Cer._ 482) must perform the vain\nlabour in the realm of Persephone of carrying water in broken\nvessels: the ~Dana\u00ef/d\u00f4n hudrei/as _atelei=s_~ (_Axioch._ 371 E). It\ncan only have been an oversight that made Pausanias forget to say\nthat the ~pi/thos~ is ~_tetr\u00eame/nos_~, for this is essential to the\nstory (see Pl., _Gor._ 493 BC; Philetair. ap. Ath. 633 F, 18 [2, p.\n235 K.]; Zenob., _Prov._ ii, 6, etc.), and certainly cannot, as\nDieterich, _Nekyia_, 70, imagined, be replaced by the ~kateago/ta\no/straka~. That the ~ou memu\u00eame/noi~, the ~amu/\u00eatoi~, as the\ninscription on the picture called them (Paus. \u00a7 9), were in fact\nthose who had neglected the Eleusinian mysteries is only a\nconclusion of Pausanias' (or of his authority), as we see from the\nway he speaks in \u00a7 11; but it is probably the right conclusion. The\nOrphics took over the Eleusinian fable, but exaggerated it to the\npoint of absurdity: they ~tou\\s anosi/ous kai\\ adi/kous koski/n\u00f4|\nhu/d\u00f4r anagka/zousi phe/rein~ in Hades (Pl., _Rp._ 363 D; _Gor._ 493\nBC). In this they followed a hint given by a popular\nproverb--representing one of the ~adu/nata--koski/n\u00f4| hu/d\u00f4r\nphe/rein~ (which is also Roman: cf. Plaut., {587} _Pseud._ 102; as\nan \"ordeal\": Plin., _NH._ 28, 12). It is not until later (nor in\nsurviving literature before the _Axiochus_, 371 E: though perhaps a\nlittle earlier on vase paintings from South Italy) that the story\noccurs in which it is the _daughters of Danaos_ who are punished in\nHades by having to fill the leaking vessel. The reason given for\nthis punishment is their murder of the sons of Aigyptos in the\nmarriage bed: but why did the punishment take this particular form?\nClearly in the case of the Danaides their non-fulfilment of an\nimportant ~te/los~ is requited in the ever ~atelei=s hudrei=ai~.\nTheir marriage union was uncompleted through their own choice (thus\nmarriage itself was often called a ~te/los~ and the wedding was\npreceded by ~prote/leia~ and compared with the ~te/l\u00ea~ of the\nmysteries). In this it is certainly implied that their deed had not\nbeen expiated, and they themselves had not found other husbands, but\nhad as it were immediately after their impious deed been sent down\nto Hades (cf. Sch. Eur., _Hec._ 886, p. 436, 14 Dind.). The\ndaughters of Danaos came to the underworld as ~a/gamoi~. To die\nbefore marriage was regarded as the height of ill-luck by the common\npeople (cf. Welcker, _Syll. ep._, p. 49): the essential reason being\nthat those who die thus leave behind them nobody who is called upon\nto keep up the cult of their souls (E. _Tro._ 380). Other ideas may\nhave been vaguely combined with this. Thus, on the graves of\n~a/gamoi~ a ~loutropho/ros~ was set up--a figure of a ~pai=s~ or a\n~ko/r\u00ea loutropho/ros~, or a vessel called the ~loutropho/ros~ which\nhas been identified with certain _bottomless_ vases (see\nFurtw\u00e4ngler, _Samml. Sabouroff_, on Pl. lviii-lix; cf. Wolters,\n_Ath. Mitth._ xvi, 378 ff.). Can this have referred to a similar\nfate awaiting the ~a/gamoi~ after their death, a fate such as was\nimputed to the Danaides in particular as mythical types of those who\nare ~a/gamoi~ by their own fault?--an ever unsuccessful carrying of\nwater for the ~loutro/n~ of the bridal bath. (Dieterich, _Nekyia_,\n76, with some probability takes this as the reason for the\nwater-carrying.)\n\nOf these two myths, was the one which appears later in order of\ntime--the story of the Danaids--merely a subsequent development out\nof the earlier one (even said to occur on a black-figured vase),\nwhich told of the vain water-carrying of the _~amu/\u00eatoi~_? I cannot\nbe so sure of this as I once was. I cannot indeed admit (with\nD\u00fcmmler, _Delphica_, 18 ff., who, however, fails to prove an\nearlier date for the story of the Danaids' jar) that it would be\ndifficult to imagine how a special class of human beings came to be\nreplaced later on by certain mythical representatives such as the\nDanaids were. But it is a very suspicious fact that the Danaids do\n_not_ as a matter of fact represent the particular class of\nmankind--the ~amu/\u00eatoi~--whose place they are supposed to have taken\nas their mythological representatives. They are not ~amu/\u00eatoi~ at\nall, but _~a/gamoi~_. The ~a/gamoi~ and their ~atelei=s hudrei=ai~\nin Hades must have been familiar in popular belief: in addition to\nthis the mystical fable of the similar behaviour of those who had\nneglected the ~te/los~ of initiation may have sprung up, but\ncertainly not as the model of the ~a/gamoi~ story, more probably as\na subsequent {588} rehandling of it for the purposes of mystical\nedification. (The story of the ~a/gamoi~ has a much more primitive\nand popular flavour; and it alone gives a definite relation between\nthe special labour of water-carrying in Hades and the nature of\ntheir default on earth.) The mythical fate of the ~a/gamoi~ was then\nforgotten owing to the competing interest of the story of the\n**~amu/\u00eatoi~, which, in fact, absorbed it, when a poet--for a poet\nit must have been--took up what still-surviving custom and its\naccompanying legend applied to the ~a/g.~ in general and transferred\nit to the _Danaides_. This version of the myth was then victorious\nin the general consciousness both over the popular tradition about\nthe ~a/gamoi~ and the mystery-fable of the **~amu/\u00eatoi~.--It remains\nto be said that the Danaids (and the **~amu/\u00eatoi~ too in a lesser\ndegree) were supposed to be _punished_ by their ~atelei=s hudrei=ai~,\nThis, so long as it was a matter of the ~a/gamoi~ simply, cannot\nhave been the meaning of that fate of purposeless toil in their case\nany more than it was in the case of Oknos. Even Xenophon, _Oec._\nvii, 40, lets us see that the vain toilers are not as a matter of\nfact intended to inspire horror, as sinners, but rather pity. His\nwords are: ~ouch hora=|s, hoi eis to\\n tetr\u00eame/non pi/thon antlei=n\nlego/menoi h\u00f4s _oikti/rontai_, ho/ti ma/t\u00ean ponei=n dokou=si? n\u00ea\\\nDi/', e/ph\u00ea h\u00ea gun\u00ea/, kai\\ ga\\r tl\u00ea/mone/s eisin, ei tou=to/ ge\npoiou=sin~. This gives us the attitude of mind from which the whole\nstory originally grew up.\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX IV\n\nTHE TETRALOGIES OF ANTIPHON\n\n\nI ought not to have admitted the doubt suggested in chap. v, n. 176,\nas to the genuineness of the Tetralogies traditionally ascribed to\nAntiphon. I have examined more carefully the well-known linguistic\nvariations between the Tetralogies and speeches i, v, and vi of\nAntiphon, and also the recently noticed divergences (see\nDittenberger, _Hermes_, 31; 32) of the Tetralogies from Athenian law\n(for which the author, like the declamation-writers of later times,\nsubstitutes occasionally a \"_ius scholasticum_\"--a purely fanciful\ncreation but one more suited to pleading _in utramque partem_). All\nthese objections seem to me, on maturer consideration, insufficient\nto make us reject the identity--otherwise so well established--of\nthe author of the Tetralogies with the author of the Speeches.\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX V\n\nRITUAL PURIFICATION EFFECTED BY RUNNING WATER, RUBBING WITH ANIMAL\nOR VEGETABLE SUBSTANCES (~ski/lla~, FIGS), ABSORPTION OF THE\n_materia peccans_ INTO EGGS.\n\n\nFor the purpose of ritual purification it is necessary to have water\ndrawn from running springs or streams, or from the sea: ~tha/lassa\nklu/xei pa/nta tanthr\u00f4/p\u00f4n kaka/~, Eur., _IT._ 1193. (Hence in the\nexalted {589} semi-oracular language of bardic poetry ~h\u00ea ami/antos\n= tha/lassa~, Aesch., _P._ 578. At a sacrifice ~ho hiareu\\s\naporrai/netai thala/ssa|~, sacrificial calendar from Kos: _Inscr.\nCos_, 38, 23.) Various details on this point in Lomeier, _De\nlustrat._ c. 17. In the water thus drawn from running sources the\npower of washing off and carrying away the evil still seemed to be\ninherent. When the pollution is unusually severe it has to be purged\nby the water from several running springs: ~kr\u00eana/\u00f4n apo\\ pe/nte~,\nEmped. 452 M. = 143 D.; ~apo\\ kr\u00ean\u00f4=n tri\u00f4=n~, Menand., ~Deis.~ 530,\n22 K.; Orestes se apud tria flumina circum Hebrum ex response\npurificavit (from the stain of matricide), Lamprid., _Heliog._ vii,\n7--or else at Rhegion in the seven streams which combine to form one\nriver: Varro ap. Prob., _ad Verg._, p. 3, 4 Keil; Sch. Theoc.,\nprol., p. 1, 3 ff. D\u00fcb. (and cf. Hermann, _Opusc._ ii, 71 ff.). Even\nwater from fourteen different springs might be used at a\npurification of murder: Suid. 476 BC Gaisf. (~apo\\ di\\s hepta\nkuma/t\u00f4n~, conclusion of an iambic or trochaic line). In all this the\nremarkable persistence of Greek ritual performances is shown once\nmore. Even in a late period the same kathartic rules prevail. An\norder of the Klarian oracle of about the third century A.D. (ap.\nBuresch, _Klaros_, p. 9) commands those who seek its aid ~apo\\\nNa\u00efa/d\u00f4n hepta mateu/ein katharo\\n po/ton entu/nesthai, ho/n\nthei\u00f4=sai pro/sothen~ (taken from _Il._ ~Ps~ 533, but understood in\na temporal sense) ~echr\u00ea=n kai\\ epessume/n\u00f4s aphu/sasthai rh\u00ea=nai/ te\ndo/mous ktl.~ And in a magical papyrus (about fourth century), ap.\nParthey, _Abh. Berl. Ak._ 1865, p. 126, l. 234-5, instructions are\ngiven to collect ~hu/d\u00f4r p\u00eagai=on apo\\ z' p\u00eag\u00f4=n~ for magic\npurposes. (Then again in medi\u00e6val superstition: for the purposes of\n_hydromantia_ \"water must be taken from three running streams, a\nlittle from each\", etc.--Hartlieb ap. Grimm, p. 1770--probably a\nsurvival from classical antiquity: cf. Plin., _NH._ 28, 46, _e\ntribus puteis_, etc.) Cf. also and in general the completely\nanalogous use of water in old Indian ceremonies of purification:\nOldenberg, _Rel. Veda_, 423 ff.; 489.--~_perima/ttein,\napoma/ttein_~: wiping-off of the uncleanness: see Wyttenb. ad Plu.,\n_Mor._ vi, pp. 1006-7. In this use _~perips\u00ea=n~_ also occurs: in a\ntransferred sense a ~pharmako/s~ is called a ~peri/ps\u00eama =\nperika/tharma~, _Ep. ad Cor._ 1, 4, 13. Washing-off with bran,\nearth, etc., is often mentioned. Otherwise the _~ski/lla~_ is used\nor the bodies of sacrificed dogs: ~eka/th\u00eare/ te/ me kai\\ _ape/maxe_\nkai\\ peri\u00ea/gnise da|di/ois~ (with ~peri\u00ea/gn.~) ~kai\\ _ski/ll\u00ea|_~,\nLuc., _Necyom._ 7. The Superstitious Man is accustomed ~hierei/as\nkale/sas ski/ll\u00ea| \u00ea\\ _sku/laki_ keleu=sai hauto\\n perikatha=rai~,\nThphr., _Ch._ 28 (16) fin. All sorts of medicinal properties were\nattributed to the ~ski/lla~. (The idea is elaborated farcically in\nthe pamphlet of \"Pythagoras\" ~peri\\ ski/ll\u00eas~ [D.L. viii, 47?\n~k\u00ea/l\u00eas~ Cobet], an extract of which is given by Galen ~p.\neupori/st.~ 3, vol. xiv, **576-9 K.) But above all it is regarded as\n~katha/rsios~: Artem. iii, 50; ~kathartik\u00ea\\ pa/s\u00eas kaki/as~, Sch.\nTheoc. v, 121, and cf. Cratin., ~Chei/r.~ 232 K. Hence it is also\n~alexipha/rmakon, ho/l\u00ea pro\\ t\u00f4=n thur\u00f4=n kremame/n\u00ea~, Diosc. ii,\n202 fin. (see _Hermes_, 51, 628); such also was the teaching of\n\"Pythagoras\": Plin., _NH._ 20, 101; **or it may be buried at the\nthreshold: Ar. ~Dana\u00ef/d.~ _fr._ 8 [255 H.-G.]. {590} It is also\n~lu/k\u00f4n phthartik\u00ea/~: Artem. iii, 50 (cf. _Gp._ 15, 1, 6, with notes\nof Niclas). As being able to keep off daimones (in wolf-form) it was\nthen used in religious \"purification\".--Figs are also used for the\npurpose of religious cleansing and scouring (_black_ figs\nparticularly inferum deorum et avertentium in tutela sunt, Macr. 3,\n20, 2-3). Figs used ~en katharmoi=s~: Eustath., _Od._, p. 1572, 57\n(? is this the meaning of the ~perima/ttein~ of the eyes with figs\nin Pherecr. ap. Ath. 3, 78 D [132 K.]). Hence ~Zeu\\s suka/sios =\nkatha/rsios~ (Eustath.). Figs the best ~alexipha/rmakon~: Arist. ap.\nJul., _Ep._ 24, p. 505, 7 ff. From the specially magic properties of\nthe fig comes the idea that fig-trees are never struck by lightning:\nPlu., _Smp._ 5, 9, p. 684 C; _Gp._ 11, 2, 7; Theoph. Nonn. 260, 288\n(and cf. _Rh. Mus._ 50, 584); Lyd., _Mens. fr. fals._ 1, p. 181 W.;\n4, 4, p. 69 W. The ~pharmakoi/~ at the Thargelia (above, chap. ix,\nn. 26) wear strings of figs round their necks (Hellad. ap. Phot.,\n_Bibl._, p. 534a, 5 ff.), and are beaten with branches of the\nfig-tree (~kra/dai~) and with ~ski/llai~ (Hippon. _frr._ 4, 5, 8;\nHsch. ~kradi/\u00eas no/mos~): here again the figs have a kathartic\npurpose (M\u00fcller mistakes this, _Dorians_, i, 346), as is shown also\nby the presence of ~ski/llai~ as well (cf. in general Theoc. vii,\n107; v, 121). Before the ~pharmakoi/~ were driven out of the city as\nscapegoats they were thus \"purified\" with the above-mentioned\n~kra/dai~ and ~ski/llai~. The same thing is said in the story of the\nravens which parodies this expiatory rite. The ravens are offered up\nto ~Loimo/s~ as a sort of ~pharmakoi/--_perikathai/rontas_ ep\u00f4|dai=s\naphie/nai z\u00f4=ntas, kai\\ epile/gein t\u00f4=| Loim\u00f4|; pheu=g' es ko/rakas~\n(Arist. _fr._ 454 [496 Tbn.]; for a similar ~apotropiasmo/s (eis\nai=gas agri/as)~ see the commentators on Macar. iii, 59, Diogen. v,\n49; cf. ~t\u00ea\\n _no/son_~ (regarded as a daimon), ~phasi/n, es ai=gas\ntre/psai~, Philostr., _Her._ 179, 8 Kays.).--Rubbing-off of the\n\"impurity\" was effected also with the dead bodies of puppies\n(~ski/ll\u00ea \u00ea\\ sku/laki~, Thphr., _Ch._ 28 [16]). Those ~hagnismou=\ndeo/menoi~ were rubbed down with the bodies of puppies (which had\nbeen sacrificed to Hekate): ~perima/ttontai~, and this is\n~periskulakismo/s~, Plu., _Q. Rom._ 68, p. 280 C.\n\nIt was believed that these materials (wool and the skins of animals\nwere also employed) received into themselves the harmful and\npolluting substance. This is why _eggs_ are also used as\n~katha/rsia~: e.g. in _P. Mag. Lond._, n. 121, l. 522 ap. Kenyon,\n_Greek papyri in BM._ i, p. 101 (1893): ~gra/phe to\\ o/noma eis \u00f4|a\\\ndu/o arrenika\\ kai\\ t\u00f4=| heni\\ _perikathai/reis_~ (sic) ~seauto\\n\nktl.~ More in Lomeier, _Lustr._ (ed. 2 Zutph. 1700), p. 258 f. They\nwere meant to absorb the impurity. ~anela/mbanon ta\\ tou=\nperikatharthe/ntos kaka/~, Auct. ~p. deisid.~ ap. Clem., _Str._ vii,\np. 844 P.\n\n\nAPPENDIX VI\n\n\nHEKATE AND THE ~Hekatika\\ pha/smata~, GORGYRA, GORGO, MORMOLYKE,\nMORMO, BAUBO, GELLO, EMPOUSA, ETC.\n\nHekate herself is addressed as ~Gorg\u00f4\\ kai\\ Morm\u00f4\\ kai\\ M\u00ea/n\u00ea kai\\\npolu/morphe~: _Hymn._ ap. Hipp., _RH._ iv, 35, p. 102, 67 D.-S. Sch.\nA.R. {591} iii, 861, says of Hek. ~le/getai kai\\ _pha/smata_\nepipe/mpein~ (cf. Eur., _Hel._ 569; D. Chr. iv, p. 73 M. [i, p. 70\nArn.]; Hsch. ~antai/a), ta\\ kalou/mena _Heka/taia_ (pha/smata\nHekatika/~, Marin., _V. Procl_. 28) ~kai\\ polla/kis _aut\u00ea\\\nmetaba/llein to\\ ei=dos_ dio\\ kai\\ _E/mpousan_ kalei=sthai~.\nHekate-Empousa also in Ar. _Tagen. fr._ 500-1: Sch. Ar., _Ran_, 293;\nHesych. ~E/mpousa~. Thus Hekate is the same as Gorgo, Mormo, and\nEmpousa. Baubo also is one of her names: _H. Mag._, p. 289 Abel.\n(Baubo probably identical with the _~Bab\u00f4/~_ mentioned among other\n~chtho/nioi~ in an inscr. from Paros: ~Ath\u00ea/naion~, v, 15; cf. the\nmale personal names ~Bab\u00f4/, Babei/s~. ~Baub\u00f4/~ can hardly be\netymologically connected with ~baub\u00f4/n~ unpleasantly familiar in\nHerond. (though the mistake has been repeated in Roscher, _Myth.\nLex._ ii, 3025); one does not see how a female daimon could be named\nafter a male _~o/lisbos~_. The nature of Hekate makes its more\nprobable that she got her name from _~bau/~_ the noise of the baying\nhound: cf. ~bauku/\u00f4n~, _P. Mag. Par._ 1911.) Baubo, too, is\nelsewhere the name of a gigantic nocturnal spectre: Orph. _fr._ 216\nAb.; Lob., _Agl._ 823.--Elsewhere these ~epikl\u00ea/seis~, or forms in\nwhich Hekate, Gorgo, Mormo, etc., appear, are found as the names of\nseparate infernal spirits. ~_Gorgu/ra_; Ache/rontos gun\u00ea/~ Apollod.\n~p. the\u00f4=n~ ap. Stob., _Ecl._ i, 49, p. 419, 15 W.; cf. [Apollod.]\n1, 5, 3. ~Gorg\u00f4/~ is probably only the shortened form of this daimon\n(she is alluded to as an inhabitant of Hades as early as _Od._ ~l~\n634; in the ~kata/basis~ of Herakles [Apollod.] 2, 5, 12; ~chthoni/a\nGorg\u00f4/~, Eur., _Ion_, 1053). Acheron, whose consort she is, must\nhave been regarded as the lord of the underworld. We also hear of a\nmother of the underworld god: in Aesch., _Ag._ 1235, Kassandra calls\nKlytaimnestra _~thu/ousan Ha/idou m\u00eate/ra~_. In this very striking\nphrase it is impossible to take ~ha/|dou~ in its generalized sense\n(as Lob. does: _Aj._^3, p. 292), and the whole phrase as merely\nmetaphorical = ~ainom\u00ea/tora~. Why ~m\u00eate/ra~ in particular? And,\nabove all, what would be the point of ~thu/ousan~? Klytaimnestra, of\ncourse, it goes without saying, is only metaphorically called the\n\"raging mother of Hades\", i.e. a true she-devil; but the thing with\nwhich she is compared, from which the metaphor is taken, must have\nbeen a real figure of legend. In exactly the same way, in Byz.\nGreek, _~t\u00f4=n daimo/n\u00f4n m\u00ea/t\u00ear~_ is a figurative expression for a\nwicked woman: see ~Kalli/m. kai\\ Chrusorro/\u00ea~ 2579 ed. Lambros; cf.\nib., 1306, ~t\u00f4=n N\u00ear\u00eai/d\u00f4n ma/mm\u00ea~. In German too \"the **devil's\nmother\", or grandmother, or the devil's wife or bride, are of\nfrequent occurrence in a metaphorical sense: Grimm, p. 1007; 1607.\nBut in all these cases the comparison invariably implies the\nexistence of real legendary figures to which the comparison refers:\nand often enough in medi\u00e6val and modern Greek folk-lore these\ncreatures actually occur. We may therefore conclude that the\n~thu/ousa Ha/idou m\u00ea/t\u00ear~ was a real figure of Greek legend. \"Hades\"\nin this connexion cannot be the god of the underworld, common in\nHomer and a regular poetic character elsewhere, the brother of Zeus\nand Poseidon. In that case his mother would be Rhea who certainly\ncannot be identified with the ~thu/ousa Ha/idou m\u00ea/t\u00ear~. In local\nmythology there were numerous other underworld {592} gods any of\nwhom might be loosely called ~Ha/id\u00eas~, the word being used as a\ngeneral name for such deities. But the \"raging\" mother of the\nunderworld god has the most unmistakable resemblance to Hekate who\nflies about by night on the wind (see above, chap. ix, p. 297 f.;\nbelow, App. vii) ~psuchai=s neku/\u00f4n me/ta bakcheu/ousa~ (Reiss, _Rh.\nMus._ 49, 181 n., compares her less well with the \"huntsman of\nHades\"). It seems almost as if the two were identical: local legend\ncould quite well have made Hekate the mother of the underworld god\n(just as she was the daughter of Admetos, or of Eubouleus, i.e. of\nHades). If she is the same as ~Morm\u00f4/~ (cf. the _Hymn._ ap. Hipp.,\n_RH._ iv, 35) then she was also known to folk-lore as the\nfoster-mother of Acheron. This title is applied to ~_Mormolu/ka_;\ntith\u00ea/n\u00ea~ of Acheron in Sophron _fr._ 9 Kaibel. But _~Morm\u00f4/~_ is\nsimply the abbreviated form of ~Mormolu/k\u00ea~ as ~Gorg\u00f4/~ is of\n~Gorgu/ra~, and cf. also ~Momm\u00f4/~ Hsch., and with metathesis of ~r~,\n~Mombr\u00f4/~ id. (~Mormol.~ is mentioned together with ~Lamia/, Gorg\u00f4/,\nEphia/lt\u00eas~ as a legendary creature in Str., p. 19, and see Ruhnken,\n_Tim. Lex._, p. 179 ff., ~Mormolu/keion~.) ~Morm\u00f4/~ also in plural:\n~h\u00f4/sper mormo/nas paida/ria (phobou=ntai)~, Xen., _HG._ 4, 4, 17;\nHsch. ~mormo/nas; pla/n\u00eatas dai/monas~ (i.e. \"wandering\", as in\nHesiod, and like the Erinyes in the Pythagorean ~su/mbolon~, and the\n~ala/st\u00f4r~, the unquiet and wandering soul whose name is derived\nfrom ~ala=sthai~--so Lob., _Paralip._ 450). Besides this we have\n~Heka/tas~ too in the plural: Luc., _Philops._ 39 fin. (perhaps only\ngeneralizing); ~triss\u00f4=n Hekat\u00f4=n~, _P. Mag. Par._ 2825 f.;\n~E/mpousai~ (with ~a/lla ei/d\u00f4la~), D.P. 725, etc., to say nothing\nof ~Gorgo/nes~. ~Morm\u00f4/~ as a bogey to frighten children: ~Morm\u00f4\\\nda/knei~, Theoc. xv, 40 (cf. ~[ana/]kl\u00easis Mormo[u=s]~, a theatrical\npiece, probably a farce: _IGM. Aeg._ i, 125g). So too is the monster\n~_La/mia_~ that kidnaps children: Duris, _fr._ 35 (2 _FHG_); D.S.\n20, 41; Heraclit., _Incred._ 34, etc. Some details in Friedl\u00e4nder,\n_Darstell. a. d. Sitteng._^4, i, 511 f. (as a nickname ~Lam\u00f4/~: Sch.\nAr., _Eq._ 62). Mormo herself is called Lamia, ~Mormou=s t\u00ea=s kai\\\nLami/as~, Sch. Greg. Nz. ap. Ruhnken, _Tim. Lex._, p. 182a. With\nMormo and Lamia ~_Gell\u00f4/_~ is also identified (Sch. Theoc. xv, 40),\na ghost that kidnaps children mentioned already by Sappho, _fr._ 44;\nZenob. iii, 3, etc. _~Kark\u00f4/~_, too, is the same as ~La/mia~\n(Hesych.). Lamia is evidently the general name (see above, chap. iv,\nn. 115), while Mormo, Gello, Karko, and even Empousa, are particular\nLamiai, who also merge into one another. Just as Mormo and Gello\ncoincide, so also do Gello and Empousa: ~_Gell\u00f4\\_ ei/d\u00f4lon\nEmpou/s\u00eas~, Hsch. (Empousai, Lamiai, and Mormolykai the same:\nPhilostr., _V. Ap._ 4, 25, p. 145, 16 K.). Empousa, who appears in\ncontinually changing shapes (Ar., _Ran._ 289 ff.), is seen by human\nbeings at night (~nukterino\\n pha/sma h\u00ea E/mpousa~, _V. Aeschin._\ninit.; Philostr. _V. Ap._ 2, 4), but even more commonly at midday\n(like the Hekate of Lucian): ~mes\u00eambri/as ho/tan toi=s\nkatoichome/nois enagi/z\u00f4sin~, Sch. Ar., _Ran._ 293. She is, in fact,\nthe _daemonium meridianum_ known to Christian writers as Diana\n(Lob., _Agl._ 1092; Grimm, 1162). For devils appearing at midday see\nRochholz, _Glaube u. Br._, i, 67 ff.; Mannhardt, _Ant._ {593} _Wald\nu. Feldc._ ii, 135 f.; Haberland, _Ztschr. V\u00f6lkerpsych._ xiii, 310\nff.; Drexler in _Myth. Lex._ ii, 2832 ff; Grimm, 1661. Hekate, in so\nfar as she appears as an ~ei/d\u00f4lon~ in the upper world is identical\nwith Emp. and with Borbo, Gorgo, Mormo, as well as Gello, Karko,\nLamia. (Acc. to Sch. A.R. iv, 828 Stesichoros, ~en t\u00ea=| Sku/ll\u00ea|\n_ei/dous_ [Eidou=s~ Bergk on Stes. _fr._ 13 quite unconvincingly]\n~_tino\\s Lami/as_ t\u00ea\\n Sku/llan ph\u00easi\\ thugate/ra ei=nai~. Here Hek.\nherself seems to be described as \"a kind of Lamia\", for she was\ngenerally regarded as the mother of Skylla, e.g. by Akousilaos [73\nB, 27 _Vors._], in the Hesiodic _Eoiai_, 172 Rz. [Sch. A.R.], and\neven in A.R. himself who in iv, 829, explains the Homeric Krataiis\n[~m~ 124] as merely a name of Hekate.)--The vagueness of feature and\nconfusion of personality is characteristic of these ghostly and\ndelusive apparitions. In reality the individual names (in some cases\nonomatopoeic formations to suggest terror) were originally the\ntitles of local ghosts. In the long run they all come to suggest the\nsame general idea and are therefore confused with each other and are\nidentified with the best known of them, Hekate. The underworld and\nthe realm of ghosts is the proper home of these feminine daimones as\na whole and of Hekate too; most of them, with the possible exception\nof Empousa, give way entirely to Hekate in importance and are\nrelegated to children's fairy-tales. In the case of Gorgyra (Gorgo)\nand Mormolyke (Mormo) this fact is clearly attested. Lamia and Gello\ncarry off children and also ~a\u00f4/rous~ from this life, like other\ndaimones of the underworld, Keres, Harpies, Erinyes, and Thanatos\nhimself. The Lamiai rise to the light from their underground\nlairs--~_lami/as_ tina\\s historou=ntes~ (the oldest writers of\nhistories) ~en hu/lais kai\\ na/pais _ek g\u00ea=s anieme/nas_~, D.H.,\n_Thuc._ 6. Empousa appears on earth at midday because that was the\ntime when sacrifice was offered to the dead (Sch. Ar., _Ran._ 293;\nsacrifice to Heroes at midday: above, chap. iv, n. 9). She\napproaches the offerings to the creatures of the lower world because\nshe herself is one of their number. (In the same way the chthonic\ncharacter of the _Seirenes_--they are closely related to the\nHarpies--is shown by the fact that they too appear like Empousa at\nmidday and oppress sleepers, etc., according to the popular\ndemonology. See Crusius, _Philol._ 50, 97 ff.)\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX VII\n\n\nThe _Hosts of Hekate_ cause fear and sickness at night: ~ei/t'\ne/nupnon pha/ntasma phob\u00ea=| chthoni/as th' _Heka/t\u00eas k\u00f4=mon_\nede/x\u00f4~, Trag. Incert. _fr._ 375 (Porson suggested Aesch.). They\nform the ~nukti/phantoi _pro/poloi_ Enodi/as~, Eur., _Hel._ 570.\n(These ~pro/poloi ta=s theou=~ are probably also referred to in the\n_defixio_ _CIG._ 5773; W\u00fcnsch, _Tab. Defix._, p. ixb.) They are\nnothing else than the restless souls of the dead wandering in the\ntrain of Hekate. Nocturnal terrors are produced by ~Heka/t\u00eas\nepibolai\\ kai\\ h\u00ear\u00f4/\u00f4n e/phodoi~, Hp., _Morb. Sacr._ (vi, 362 L.).\nHence Orph., _H._ i, 1, calls Hekate ~psuchai=s neku/\u00f4n me/ta\nbakcheu/ousan~. The souls which thus wander about with Hekate are\n{594} in part those of the _~a/\u00f4roi~_, i.e. of those who have died\nbefore the completion of their \"destined\" period of life, ~pri\\n\nmoi=ran ex\u00ea/kein bi/ou~, Soph., _Ant._ 896; cf. Phrynich. in _AB._\n24, 22, and ~pro/moiros harpag\u00ea/~, _Inscr. Cos_, 322. Thanatos has\nacted unjustly towards them ~en tachut\u00ea=ti bi/ou pau/\u00f4n neo\u00ea/likas\nakma/s~, Orph., _H._ 87, 5-6. The period of conscious existence on\nearth which they had left incomplete they must now fulfil as\ndisembodied \"souls\": aiunt immatura morte praeventas (animas) eo\nusque vagari istic, donec reliquatio compleatur aetatum quas tum\npervixissent si non intempestive obiissent, Tert., _An._ 56. (They\nhaunt the place of their burial: ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4es atuchei=s, hoi\\ en t\u00f4=|\ndei=ni to/p\u00f4| sune/chesthe~, _P. Mag. Par._ 1408; cf. _CIG._ 5858b.)\nFor this reason it is often mentioned on gravestones (and elsewhere:\nEur., _Alc._ 168 f.) as something specially to be lamented that the\nperson there buried had died ~a/\u00f4ros~--see _Epigr. Gr._ 12; 16; 193;\n220, 1; 221, 2; 313, 2-3: ~a/teknos a/\u00f4ros~, **236, 2; and cf. 372,\n32; 184, 3; _CIG._ 5574 (see also App. iii and chap. xiv, pt. ii, n.\n155, ~a/gamoi~). Gello who herself ~parthe/nos a\u00f4/r\u00f4s eteleu/t\u00ease~\nthen becomes a ~pha/ntasma~, slays children and causes ~tou\\s t\u00f4=n\na\u00f4/r\u00f4n thana/tous~, Zenob. iii, 3; Hsch. ~Gell\u00f4/~. The souls of the\n~a/\u00f4roi~ cannot rest but must continually wander: see Plaut.,\n_Most._ 499. They (~ane/m\u00f4n ei/d\u00f4lon e/chontes~, _H. Hec._, l. 15:\nOrph., p. 290 Ab.) are the creatures which accompany Hekate in her\nnocturnal wanderings. The _Hymn._ to Hekate, p. 289 Ab. (cf. _P.\nMag. Par._ 2727 ff.) addresses Hek. thus (10 ff.): ~deu=r' Heka/t\u00ea\ntriodi=ti, puri/pnoe, pha/smat' e/chousa (a/gousa~ Mein.)~, h\u00ea/ t'\ne/laches deina\\s me\\n hodou\\s (deina/s t' epho/dous~?) ~chalepa/s\nt' epipompa/s, t\u00ea\\n Heka/t\u00ean se kal\u00f4= su\\n apophthime/noisin a\u00f4/rois\nkei/ tines h\u00ear\u00f4/\u00f4n tha/non agnai=oi/ te (kai\\~ Mein., but this\nposition of ~te/~ is a regular Hellenistic usage; occurs frequently\nin _Orac. Sibyll._) ~a/paides ktl.~ Thus the ~a/\u00f4roi~ became the\ntypical haunting spirits ~kat' exoch\u00ea/n~. Just as in this _Hymn._\nthey are summoned (with Hek.) for unholy purposes of magic, so an\n~a/\u00f4ros~ is sometimes expressly invoked in the _defixiones_ which\nwere placed in graves (esp. in those of ~a/\u00f4roi~: see the\ninstructions given in _P. Mag. Par._ 332 ff., 2215, 2220 f.; _P.\nAnastasy_, l. 336 ff.; 353): ~le/g\u00f4 t\u00f4=| a\u00f4/r\u00f4| t\u00f4=| k[ata\\ tou=ton\nto\\n to/pon~, etc.]: Roman _defixio_, _I. Sic. et It._ 1047;\n~exorki/z\u00f4 se, neku/daimon a/\u00f4re~, leaden tablet from Carth., _BCH._\n1888, p. 299 (_Tab. Defix._, p. xvi); cf. also _P. Mag. Par._ 342 f.;\n1390 ff.; ~para/dote~ (the victim) ~a\u00f4/rois~, leaden tablet from\nAlexandria, _Rh. Mus._ 9, 37, l. 22; a lead tablet from Phrygia\n(_BCH._ 1893, p. 251) has: ~gra/ph\u00f4 pa/ntas tou\\s emoi\\ anti/a\npoiou=ntas meta\\ t\u00f4=n a\u00f4/r\u00f4n; Epa/gathon Sabi=nan~, etc. In the\ncurses of _Epigr. Gr._, p. 149, the ~Heka/t\u00eas melai/n\u00eas dai/mones~\nalternate with ~a/\u00f4roi sumphorai/~; see also Sterrett, _Amer. Sch.\nAthens_, ii, 168.--Everything that has been said of the ~a/\u00f4roi~\napplies also to the _~biaiotha/natoi~_ (or ~bi/aioi~, a term found\nin the magical papyri; cf. also ~biotha/naton pneu=ma~, _P. Mag.\nPar._ 1950); they are a special kind of ~a/\u00f4roi~: they find no rest,\nsee above, chap. v, n. 147; Tert., _An._ 56-7; Serv., _A._ iv, 386,\nquoting the _physici_; cf. also Heliod., 2, 5, p. 42, 20 ff. Bk. A\n~biaiotha/natos~, who has thus been deprived of his life, has to\nmake special supplication for admission {595} into Hades: _Epigr.\nGr._ 625; cf. Verg., _A._ iv, 696 ff. Such souls become\n~_ala/stores_~, wandering spirits: see above, Append. vi, p. 592;\nwandering of a ~biaiotha/natos~, Plu., _Cim._ 1.--Finally the souls\nof unburied persons who have no share in the cult of the souls or\nhome in the grave are also condemned to wander (cf. Eur., _Hec._\n31-50): see above, chap. v, p. 163. The ~a/taphos~ is detained\n~entha/de~: Soph., _Ant._ 1070, and wanders about the earth:\n~alai/nei~, Eur., _Tro._ 1083; cf. Tert., _An._ 56. Hence the souls\nof these ~a/taphoi~ could be forced to appear and answer the\nsorcerer: Heliod., p. 177, 15 ff. Bk.; _rite conditis Manibus_ the\nwanderings of the soul cease: Plin., _Ep._ 7, 27, 11; Luc.,\n_Philops._ 31 fin.--The art of the ~ma/ntis~ and of the ~kathart\u00ea/s~\n(and of the ~apoma/ktria grau=s~, Plu., _Superst._ 3, p. 166 A) is\nsupposed to keep off such nocturnal terrors; it is \"purification\"\nprecisely because it drives away such unholy beings. It is also a\nkind of ~katha/rsion~ that is employed when ~apomagdali/ai~ (instead\nof to the dogs: Ath. 409 D) are thrown out ~en toi=s ampho/dois\nginome/nois nukterinoi=s pho/bois~ (Harmodios of Leprea ap. Ath. 149\nC), i.e. to Hekate and her rout which also appears as a pack of\nhounds.\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX VIII\n\nDISINTEGRATION OF CONSCIOUSNESS AND REDUPLICATION OF PERSONALITY\n\n\nIn that period of extreme excitement the Greeks must have had\nfrequent experience of the abnormal but by no means unusual\npsychical state in which a division of consciousness takes place and\nbecomes apparent. The single personality splits up into two (or more)\ndistinct centres of consciousness; and these give rise to two\npersonalities (succeeding each other, or contemporaneous), with a\ndouble will and a double intellect appearing in one man. Even\nunprejudiced psychological observers of our own time are unable to\ndescribe such phenomena, which appear (spontaneously or produced\nexperimentally) in certain neuropathic conditions, except as a\nreduplication or multiplication of personality. A second self comes\ninto being, a second centre of consciousness following or by the\nside of the first and normal personality, which is generally unaware\nof the existence of its rival. (Probably the most complete and\ncautious account of these matters is that given by Pierre Janet in\n_L'automatisme psychologique_, Paris, 1889.) When such phenomena\nappear in conjunction with marked religious or spiritualistic\ntendencies they are naturally explained in accordance with these\nintellectual preconceptions. The appearance in a man or woman of an\nintelligent will, unguided or unperceived by the normally dominant\npersonality, is conceived as the entrance of a foreign personality\ninto the individual; or as the expulsion of the real soul of the\nindividual by such a demonic or spiritual visitor. Nothing, however,\nis commoner, in all ages, than the religious or spiritualist\npreconceptions that lead to such an explanation; and so {596} what\nthe Greeks called ~e/kstasis~ or ~kate/chesthai ek theou=~ has been\na very frequent explanation of such mysterious occurrences from the\nearliest times (and in the present day). It has appealed just as\nmuch to the person affected by such \"reduplication of personality\"\nas to those round about him (unless they have been scientifically\neducated). The actual experience of such phenomena is generally a\nfact; fancy begins only with the explanation offered. For the Greeks\nthe Pythia was always the best known example of such \"possession\" of\na human being by a foreign will or spirit which seemed to enter\nviolently and from outside into the human individual, having little\ncorrespondence (as it usually happened) with the character or the\nintellect of the \"medium\" in his or her normal state of\nconsciousness. The Sibyls, Bakides, ~Ba/kchoi~, the seers and\npriests of purification, Epimenides, Aristeas, and so many others,\nwere further cases of the ascent of the soul to the divine or the\nentrance of a god into the soul. It was inevitable that the idea of\nan immediate relation between the soul and the divine, and of the\ndivine nature of the soul itself, should grow up in connexion with\nsuch cases as these, and seem to be authenticated in them more than\nin any other way. Greece is not the only place where this has\nhappened.\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX IX\n\nTHE GREAT ORPHIC THEOGONY\n\n\nThe information about a coherent Orphic Theogony and Anthropogony\nwhich has come down to us from the statements of Neoplatonic\nphilosophers and their contemporaries, is derived, as Lobeck very\nrightly concluded, from the ~en tai=s _rhaps\u00f4|di/ais_ Orphikai=s\ntheologi/a, h\u00ea\\n kai\\ hoi philo/sophoi dierm\u00eaneu/ousin~ (Damasc.,\n_Princ._, p. 380 K.). This last statement means that they were\nexplained in lectures given by the heads of the Platonic school\nsince the time of Syrianos (~Orphikai\\ sunousi/ai~ of Syrian.:\nProcl., _in Tim._ 96 B; Scholia of Proclus on Orpheus, ~ei kai\\ m\u00ea\\\neis pa/sas ta\\s _rhaps\u00f4|di/as_~: Marin., _V. Procl._ 27). Written\ncommentaries were also published, more particularly in order to\nprove the ~sumph\u00f4ni/an Orphe/\u00f4s, Puthago/rou kai\\ Pla/t\u00f4nos~\n(Syrianos wrote a book with this title, wrongly ascribed to Proclus\nby Suidas: see R. Sch\u00f6ll on Procl. _in Rp._, p. 5. Probably the work\nof Syr. ~eis t\u00ea\\n Orphe/\u00f4s theologi/an~ is the source of Orph.,\n_frr._ 123-4, which are traced back in the ~Theosophi/a~, \u00a7 50, to\n~Suriano\\s en toi=s heautou= pon\u00ea/masin~. From Syr. also probably\ncomes the citation from Orpheus ~en t\u00ea=| teta/rt\u00ea| rhaps\u00f4|di/a|~,\nib., \u00a7 61). The older Neoplatonists before Syrianos took little\nnotice of the Orphica. Plotinos gives no quotation at all (though\nperhaps an allusion in 4, 3, 12; see Lob., p. 555), Iamblichos\nquotes nothing from immediate acquaintance, Porphyrios, who read\neverything, gives a little (_frr._ 114; 123 Euseb. from Porph.; 211)\nand what he does give certainly comes from the Rhapsodiai. In fact,\n{597} the Neoplatonics as a whole when they quote Orpheus from their\nown knowledge (and do not, for example, simply write \"Orpheus\"\ninstead of \"Pythagoras\": see above, chap. x, n. 9) use the\nRhapsodiai _only_, as Lobeck rightly maintains, p. 466 (Abel did not\nrealize this, to the detriment of his collection of the _frr._). The\ntitle of the poem they used can hardly have been ~Theogoni/a~. (This\nseems to occur as a title in _fr._ 188 [Clem. Al. from auct. ~p.\nklop\u00ea=s~]. In _fr._ 108 it is only a description of contents; _fr._\n310 is spurious. In Suidas, Gaisford's MSS., we do indeed read of a\n~theogoni/a, e/p\u00ea \"as'\"~: but the figure indicating the number of\nlines corresponds most suspiciously with that of the previous\n~onomastiko/n~, and in any case would be insufficient for the great\nlength of the ~rhaps\u00f4|di/ai~.) It seems extremely probable (as\nLobeck already suspected, p. 716, 726) that the simple description:\nan Orphic poem divided into several Rhapsodiai, ~_hieroi\\ lo/goi_ en\nrhaps\u00f4|di/ais kd'~ (Suid.), was the real title of the poem, which\nconsisted of several ~rhaps\u00f4|di/ai~. This ~hiero\\s lo/gos~ (the\nplural only means that there were several books) is, however a\ndifferent one (Lobeck missed this, p. 716) from the ~hiero\\s lo/gos~\nwhich Epigenes (ap. Clem. Al., _Str._ i, 21, p. 144 P.) attributed\nto the Pythagorean Kerkops. (And again when Suid. attributes the 24\nRhaps. to the Thessalian Theognetos or to Kerkops he also means the\n_old_ ~hiero\\s lo/gos~ not divided into Rhaps., and confuses this\nwith the later and much extended ~hiero\\s lo/gos~.) The older\n~hiero\\s lo/gos~ is that alluded to by Cic., _ND._ i, 107, and prob.\nalso by Plu., _Smp._ 2, 3, 2, p. 636 D (_fr._ 42); the quotation in\n_EM._ (_fr._ 44) from the 8th Bk. refers to the later ~hiero\\s\nlo/gos~. But it is certain that the ~hiero\\s lo/gos~ in 24 Bks., the\npoem possessed by the Neoplatonists, from which by far the greater\nnumber of our fragments are taken, was not a work of the sixth\ncentury, written for instance (as Lobeck was inclined to think, 683\nf.) by Onomakritos. It is even untrue--regrettably enough we might\nadd--that as the Neoplatonists presumed (and Lobeck believed in\nconsequence: p. 508, 529 f., 602, 613) Plato knew and made use of\nthe \"Rhapsodies\". (This emerges with particular plainness from\nGruppe's study of the question in _Jb. Philol. Supp._ xvii, 689\nff.). And when this is gone no other evidence for the earlier date\nof the Orphic Theogony in this form is left. And in the very few\npassages in which a real coincidence (and not a doubtfully assumed\none) exists between the Rhapsodies and Pherekydes, Herakleitos,\nParmenides (see Lob., p. 532; Kern, _Theogon._, p. 52; Gruppe, p.\n708) or Empedokles, the poet of the Rhapsodies is the borrower not\nthe creditor. The age in which he lived cannot be precisely\ndetermined; the fact that Neoplatonic writers are the first to quote\nhim does not settle the question; it is uncertain whether he lived\nafter (as I think) or before the (otherwise unknown) Hieronymos\nwhose statement about an Orphic Theogony is quoted by Damasc.,\n_Princ._ 381 f. K. In any case Gruppe (p. 742) has correctly\nappreciated the character of the bulky poem (equalling or even\nsurpassing the length of the Iliad), when he says that it consists\nin the main of a loosely connected patchwork of older Orphic\ntradition. {598} There are many points in which agreement between\nthe Rhapsodies and older Orphic teaching and poetry is still\ndemonstrable; lines from older Orphic poems were taken over\nunaltered; subjects from older Orphic Theogonies were combined,\nsometimes without regard for their divergent character; different\nversions of the same motif occur together. Thus we have the\n~kata/posis~ (modelled eventually upon Hesiod) twice over: in the\nfirst version Zeus swallows Phanes, in the second the heart of\nZagreus. Both mean the same thing; the devouring of the heart of\nZagreus may perhaps belong to the older Orphic legendary material,\nthe devouring of Phanes to the later. The personality of ~Pha/n\u00eas~,\nhowever, cannot have been unknown even to the older stratum of\nOrphic poetry. D.S. 1, 11, 3, quotes a line of \"Orpheus\", which\ncertainly was not taken from the Rhaps., in which ~Pha/n\u00eas~ is\nmentioned (and identified with Dionysos). And in a gold tablet,\nfolded up with the tablet bearing an inscription of Orphic\ncharacter, _I. Sic. et It._ 642, and found in the same grave near\nSybaris, there occurs in addition to other (illegible) matter a list\nof divine names which includes that of _~Pha/n\u00eas~_ (and also\n~Pr\u00f4to/gonous~ here apparently distinguished from ~Pha/n\u00eas~ with\nwhom this figure of Orphic theology is generally identified): see\nComparetti, _Notizie degli scavi di antichit\u00e0_, 1879, p. 157; 1880,\np. 156. This establishes the existence of this figure of Orphic\nmythology as early as the third cent. B.C. (the prob. date of these\ntablets).--We may therefore employ the facts derived from the\nRhapsodies with some confidence for the reconstruction of Orphic\npoetry and doctrine at those points at least in which coincidence\nwith older Orphic teaching and the fantastic creatures of Orphic\ntheology can still be proved. [I leave these remarks exactly as they\nstood in the first edition of this book, for they still fully\ncorrespond to my own opinion. Others in the meanwhile have expressed\ndivergent views, esp. Gomperz, _Greek Thinkers_, i, p. 539. But that\nGruppe's proof of the fact that Plato did not know the Rhapsodist\nTheogony is \"wholly unsuccessful\", is something which no one has yet\nsought to show upon intelligible _grounds_. Until such a disproof is\nforthcoming the belief in the early date of the Rhapsodies has no\nreal ground on which to stand.]\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX X\n\nPREVIOUS LIVES OF PYTHAGORAS. HIS DESCENT TO HADES\n\n\nPythagoras' miraculous power of remembering what had happened long\nago in previous lives seems to be already alluded to in the lines of\nEmpedokles, 430 ff. M. = _fr._ 129 D. The legend in which it was\nrelated how Pythag. showed that he had once been **Euphorbos the son\nof Panthous who had been slain by Menelaos in the Trojan war, must,\nat any rate, have been put forward at an early period. The story is\noften told or alluded to: D.S. 10, 6, 1-3; Sch. V. {599} on ~R~ 28:\nMax. Tyr. 16 (i, 287 f. R.); Porph., _VP._ 26-7; Iambl., _VP._ 63;\nPhilostr., _V. AP._ 1, 1, 1; 8, 7, 4; _Her._ 17, p. 192, 23 ff. Ks.;\nTatian, _Gr._ 25; Hor., _C._ 1, 28, 10; Ov., _M._ 15, 160 ff.;\nHygin. 112; Lact., _Inst._ 3, 18, 15; cf. also Call., _fr._ 83a\n(completely misunderstood by Schneider) who even calls Pythag.\n\"Euphorbos\", as Hor. does and Luc., _DM._ 20, 3. The story is always\ntold in such a way as to imply that no intermediate **~ens\u00f4mat\u00f4/sis~\nof his soul had taken place between Pythag. himself and Euphorbos\n(they are definitely excluded in Luc., _Gall._ 17).--Why was\nEuphorbos in particular selected? The fact that through his father\nPanthous he had a special connexion with Apollo, like Pythagoras (a\ntrue ~psuch\u00ea\\ Apoll\u00f4niak\u00ea/~: cf. also Luc., _Gall._ 16), can hardly\nhave been sufficient reason (as G\u00f6ttling, _Opusc._ 210; Krische,\n_Soc. Pythag._ 67 f. suggest).--Euphorbos was taken up and made one\nof a whole series of previous incarnations\n(Aithalides--Euphorbos--Hermotimos--Pyrrhos the Delian\nfisherman--Pythagoras) by Herakleides Pont.: D.L. viii, 4-5 (with\nwhich agree Hippol., _RH._ 1, 2, p. 12, 54 f. D.-S.; Porph., _VP._\n45; Tert., _An._ 28, 31; Sch. Soph., _El._ 62). Starting with\nAithalides (to whom Herakleides was perhaps the first to ascribe the\ngift of miraculous memory in addition to other miraculous powers)\nthe power of ~ana/mn\u00easis~ in life and death was transmitted through\nall the links in the chain down to Pythag. himself. (The story of\nthe shield of Euphorbos was now transferred to Hermotimos for\nobvious reasons.) According to D.L. Herakleides ~ph\u00easi\\n peri\\\nhautou= ta/de le/gein (to\\n Puthago/ran)~. It is very possible that\nthe language is here inexact and Herakleides did not (as the words\nof D.L. would strictly suggest) appeal to a statement of Pythagoras\n(in a book) but represented him as saying all this (in a dialogue).\nIf this is correct, apart from the incarnation as Euphorbos which he\ntook over from the tradition, Herakleides invented all the rest,\naccording to his own fancy. The fable was then taken up with\nvariations by others: in Sch. A.R. i, 645, two versions derived from\nthe fiction of Herakl. but diverging in some points are mentioned\n(one being supported by ~hoi Puthagorikoi/~, the other by Pythagoras\nhimself--in a book? ~Puthago/ras ph\u00easi/n~ are the actual words).\nWhat Gellius 4, 11, 14, has to say on the authority of Klearchos and\nDikaiarchos differs (except in the matter of Euphorbos) entirely\nfrom Herakleides (and the names given should not be altered). But it\nmay, nevertheless, be essentially the same fable over again, this\ntime in the form of a parody of Herakl. (which is not very likely in\nthe case of Klearchos but suits Dikaiarch. very well). Encouraged by\nthese predecessors Lucian in the _Cock_ (19-20) carried still\nfurther the parody of the fabulous tale. The story of Herakleides\nseems to be seriously used in the ~graph\u00ea/~ in which Pythagoras\n~auto/s ph\u00easi di' hepta\\ kai\\ di\u00eakosi/\u00f4n et\u00f4=n ex ai/de\u00f4\nparagegen\u00ea=sthai es anthr\u00f4/pous~, D.L. viii, 14. As Diels, _Archiv.\nf. Gesch. Philos._ iii, 468 f., shows to be very probable, this was\nin the ps.-Pythagorean book written in the Ionic dialect, not before\nthe third century and divided into three parts, which D.L. quotes\nand makes use of (viii, 6; 9; 14; cf. also Sch. Pl., _Rp._ 600 B).\n{600} Pyth. here states that he appears on earth from the underworld\n\"every 207 years\", and the calculation may possibly be based on the\nseries of lives invented by Herakleides and the Chronology of\nApollodoros (in which case it could not be before the last century\nB.C.), thus: Pythag. born 572, Pyrrhos 779, Hermotimos 986,\nEuphorbos 1193 (in the first year of the ~Tr\u00f4ika/~ acc. to\nEratosthenes and Apollodor.), Aithalides 1490. It must indeed be\nadmitted that this method of reckoning makes the gross error of\ncalculating from birth to birth instead of from the death of A to\nthe birth of B. (Other intervals are given in _Theologum. Arithm._,\np. 40 Ast [216 = 6^3: D.L. viii, 14, should not be altered to suit\nthis as I once proposed]; Sch. Bern. Lucan, ix, 1, p. 289, 12 Us.\n[462, ? an error for 432 = 2 x 216; cf. _Theol. Arith._, p. 40,\n30])--The existence of a Pythagorean writing belonging to the period\nbefore Herakleides, in which these previous lives of Pythag. were\nmentioned cannot be certainly proved. It might be supposed (as I\nonce supposed: _Rh. Mus._ 26, 558) that the conjunction of the\nlegend of Pythagoras' previous lives with the descent of P. to\nHades, which appears in Sch. Soph., _El._ 62, and Tert., _An._ 28,\nis ancient and original; in which case the previous lives would have\nbeen described in a Pythagorean ~kata/basis eis ha/|dou~. But the\nconjunction is quite arbitrary and is not such as would be likely in\na Pythagorean book on the descent: the descent is, in fact, told as\na parody, the form which had been given to it by Hermippos, and with\nthe implication that it is untrue. Nor is it very likely that the\nprevious lives would be described in connexion with a descent to\nHades, considering that Pyth. remembered them while alive on earth\nand not in a condition of ecstasy, and did not learn of them in\nHades. It would be more natural that, vice versa, an account of the\nprevious lives should also include something about ~ta\\ en\nha/|dou~--the ~ana/mn\u00easis~ included that also: cf. D.L. viii, 4 fin.\n(see the decisive objections to my previous view raised by G. Ettig,\n_Acheruntica_, Leipz. Stud. 13, 289 f.). This applies equally to the\nview of Diels[1\\A10] (_Archiv_, p. 469) that Herakleides (in his\nwork ~p. t\u00f4=n en ha/|dou~) told of the previous lives of P. in\nconnexion with the descent of P. to Hades and that Herakl. was the\nfirst to make P. go down to Hades. There is nothing to prove that\nHerakl. did this or to make it even probable. Without any {601}\ngrounds for doing so Diels supposes that what Pythagoras (acc. to\nSch. Ambros. on ~a~ 371) ~\"ph\u00easi/n\"; e/x\u00f4 geno/menos tou= s\u00f4/matos\nak\u00ea/koa emme/lous harmoni/as~, was said by Pythag., not in a book\ngoing under his name, but in a dialogue by Herakleides (who is not\neven mentioned in that Schol.). There is no reason at all to doubt\nthat these words (as Lobeck supposed, 944) came from a book ascribed\nto Pythagoras himself, in which he described his ekstasis and\necstatic visions (cf. Sch. Arist. 496b, 1 f., 13 ff. Br.). There is\nno further definite evidence for the existence of such a Pythagorean\n~Kata/basis eis ha/|dou~ (for the ~graph\u00ea/~ of D.L. viii, 21, has\nanother and better interpretation, as already remarked). But a\nfairly early date for the origin of at least a legend about a\ndescent of P. to Hades (and of quite definite statements about it\nwith a propagandist aim) is attested by Hieronymos of Rhodos ap.\nD.L. viii, 21. (But we should not without more definite reason\nascribe the invention of the fable itself to Hieron., as is done by\nHiller, _Hier. Rh. frag._, p. 25. What reason could Hieron. have had\nfor inventing anything of the kind?) Further, the lines of the comic\npoet Aristophon ap. D.L. viii, 38 [_fr._ 12 K.], already suggest\nthat such legends were in existence in the third century B.C.\nWhether the work on the subject of Pythagoras' descent to Hades\ncalled forth the legend or whether the legend was already current\nand called forth the book, must remain undecided. But in any case\nthe book included no account of the previous lives of Pythagoras:\nthese (apart from the older legend of P. and Euphorbos) were first\nput forward by Herakleides Pont. (but not the Descent of P. to\nHades).\n\n[1\\A10: What Diels, _Parmenides_, p. 15 (1897) says in support of\nhis view might stand if we were willing to ignore the fact that\nPythag., as has already been remarked, remembered his previous lives\nwhile he was still alive, and not in the ecstatic condition--not\n~e/x\u00f4 geno/menos tou= s\u00f4/matos~. But this is a fact, so that Diels'\nview remains untenable.--I cannot see what there is of a\n\"rationalist\" character (Diels) in the fact that Pyth. saw Hesiod\nand Homer in Hades undergoing punishment ~anth' h\u00f4=n ei=pon peri\\\nthe\u00f4=n~ (D.L. viii, 21). This is, in fact, an anti-rationalist,\npriestly invention (and so I see Dieterich also understands it,\n_Nekyia_, 130). This fact certainly does not tell against the view\nthat the Hades poem had its origin in the sixth (or the first half\nof the fifth) century B.C.]\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX XI\n\nINITIATION CONSIDERED AS ADOPTION BY THE GOD\n\n\nThe Mystes whose soul is speaking in the first of the gold tablets\nfound at Sybaris (Diels, No. 18) says, l. 7-8: ~himertou= d' epe/ban\nstephanou= posi\\ karpali/moisi, _despoi/nas d' hupo\\ ko/lpon e/dun\nchthoni/as basilei/as_~. This ~hupo\\ ko/lpon e/dun . . .~ can hardly\nmean anything else than: I seek (as ~hike/t\u00eas~) the protection of\nher maternal bosom (or lap). It would certainly be attractive to\ntake this (with Dieterich, _de hymn. Orph._, p. 38) as referring to\na symbolical act, corresponding to the ceremony in which in Greece\nand elsewhere, the adoption of a boy, his reception into a new\n~ge/nos~, was symbolically represented. (D.S. 4, 39, 2, in\nparticular records the process: see Wesseling's learned note there;\ncf. also Preller, _Gr. Mythol._^4 i, 702.) But such a _symbolical_\nproceeding if it was to bring about the association of the ~mu/st\u00eas~\nwith the goddess must have taken place already in the ~o/rgia~ once\nheld upon earth--here we are in Hades, and it is to say the least of\nit difficult to believe that this ~die/lkesthai tou= ko/lpou~ can\nhave been supposed to occur in Hades in the neighbourhood of the\ngoddess herself (a fact which made a merely symbolical act of the\nkind supposed quite {602} unnecessary).--Apart from this the views\nof Dieterich are quite sound: the ceremony was essentially regarded\nas an _adoption_ of the ~mu/st\u00eas~ by the goddess or the god, as a\nreception of the initiated into the divine ~ge/nos~. The ~dra/k\u00f4n~\n(who represents the god himself) ~dielko/menos tou= ko/lpou~ in the\nSabazia seems actually to have had this meaning. Further the\n~mu/st\u00eas~ is sometimes called _renatus_, or _in aeternum renatus_\n(Apul., _M._ xi, 21; _CIL._ vi, 510; 736); the day of his initiation\nis his _natalis sacer_ (Apul., _M._ xi, 24, where _natalem sacrum_\nshould be read): in these circumstances we may venture to recall\nthat the above-mentioned solemn rites of adoption also represented a\n_new birth_ of the ~theto\\s huio/s~ from the womb of his new mother\n(see D.S. l.c. Hence Hera is called the _~deute/ra tekou=sa~_ of\nHerakles whom she adopted: Lycophr. 39; and hence also the adopted\nis called _~deutero/potmos~_, i.e. reborn: Hsch. s.v. ad fin.) This\nconception also provides the simplest explanation of the fact that\nthe ~_mu\u00f4=n_~, who has received the ~ne/os mu/st\u00eas~ into the divine\n~ge/nos~ to which he himself already belongs, can be called the\n_pater_ or _parens_ of the ~mu/st\u00eas~ (Apul., _M._ xi, 25; Tert.,\n_Apol._ 8; _ad Nat._ i, 7)--he effects the entrance of the new\nmember into his own family. (In Greek the name for such a mystic\n\"father\" seems to have been ~patromu/st\u00eas~, _CIG._ 3173,\n3195.)--This conception of a _new birth_ by initiation reminds us of\nthe Christian idea of _rebirth_ by baptism (which in its turn is\ndeveloped from older Jewish ideas: see Anrich, _Ant.\nMysterienwesen_, p. 111, n.). It is nevertheless one which the\nGreeks themselves had at an early date. The ~mu/stai~ of the\nEleusinia seem to have been not far from regarding initiation as an\nadoption into the divine ~ge/nos~.\n\nIn the ps.-Platonic _Axiochus_, p. 371 D, we read in the description\nof the ~ch\u00f4=ros euseb\u00f4=n: entau=tha toi=s memu\u00eame/nois esti/ tis\nproedri/a kai\\ ta\\s hosi/ous hagistei/as kakei=se suntelou=si; p\u00f4=s\nou=n ou soi\\ pr\u00f4/t\u00f4| me/testi t\u00ea=s tim\u00ea=s, _o/nti genn\u00ea/t\u00ea|_ t\u00f4=n\nthe\u00f4=n? kai\\ tou\\s peri\\ H\u00earakle/a te~ (perhaps ~de/~ would be\nbetter) ~kai\\ Dio/nuson katio/ntas eis Ha/idou pro/teron lo/gos\nentha/de~ (i.e. at Athens) ~_mu\u00eath\u00ea=nai_ kai\\ to\\ tha/rsos t\u00ea=s\nekei=se porei/as para\\ t\u00ea=s Eleusini/as enau/sasthai~.--Here\nAxiochos (for it is to him that Sokrates is speaking) is plainly\ndescribed as ~genn\u00ea/t\u00eas t\u00f4=n the\u00f4=n~ simply and solely because he\nbelongs to the ~memu\u00eame/noi~. According to Wilamowitz (G\u00f6tt. Gel.\nAnz._, 1896, p. 984) he is called ~genn\u00ea/t\u00eas t\u00f4=n the\u00f4=n~ only as a\nmember of the ~ge/nos~ of the ~Eupatri/dai~ to which he apparently\nbelonged. But that anyone just on the strength of the by no means\nuncommon fact that he belonged to a ~ge/nos~ that happened to trace\nits earliest origin from a god (nor is it certain even that the\n~Eupatri/dai~ did this)--that anyone on this account should have\ndared to call himself a \"member of the same family as the gods\" is\nto say the least of it difficult to parallel. In this case at any\nrate nothing of the kind can be meant. From the general principle\nthat the initiated have a ~proedri/a~ in Hades it is deduced, simply\nas conclusion from premiss, with a \"surely then\"--(~p\u00f4=s _ou=n_\nou--~), that Axiochos too may hope to enjoy this same honour\n(~_t\u00ea=s_ tim\u00ea=s--~). It is then entirely impossible that, to account\nfor this hope, a reason {603} should be implied and expressed which,\nlike the supposed descent of Axiochos from the gods, had nothing to\ndo with the mysteries and the privileges of the ~mu/stai~. If it was\nthe (alleged) descent of Axiochos from the gods which secured him\n~tim\u00ea/~ in Hades it would be quite meaningless to accompany the\nmention of the ~tim\u00ea/~ thus secured to Axiochos with an allusion to\nthe ~tim\u00ea/~ obtained on quite different grounds by the ~memu\u00eame/noi~\n(which yet is mysteriously equivalent to that obtained by right of\nbirth). This allusion, moreover, is put in such a way that it quite\nunambiguously includes the special case of Axiochos in the common\ndenomination of the ~memu\u00eame/noi~ of whom he is said to be one. The\nfact, indeed, that the privileges of the ~memu\u00eame/noi~ is the only\nsubject alluded to throughout is shown also by the third and last\nsentence: the famous cases of the initiation of Herakles and\nDionysos are only mentioned as emphasizing still further the\nimportance of _~mu\u00eath\u00ea=nai~_ for those ~eis ha/|dou katio/ntas~.\n\nHere then Axiochos can only be called ~genn\u00ea/t\u00eas t\u00f4=n the\u00f4=n~ in so\nfar as he is ~memu\u00eame/nos~. Why, indeed, he ~pr\u00f4=tos~, before other\n~memu\u00eame/noi~, should have a claim to the honour of ~proedri/a~ is\nsomething that our text does not say and that can hardly be\nextracted from it. It certainly appears that Axiochos has a special\nprivilege beyond that of other Mystai. Had he reached a specially\nhigh stage of the ~te/l\u00ea~ which was not open to everyone and at\nwhich kinship with the gods was first fully assured? Did the family\nof the ~Eupatri/dai~ undertake some active part in the ~mu/\u00easis~\nwhich gave them a closer relation to the gods? In any case his claim\nto be regarded as ~genn\u00ea/t\u00eas t\u00f4=n the\u00f4=n~ must have depended on his\nhaving been initiated at Eleusis.\n\nNow this kinship with the gods to which he thus attains can only be\nmade intelligible, if, in accordance with the analogies adduced\nabove, we regard the ~mu/\u00easis~ (or perhaps only its highest stages)\nas a symbolic adoption by the divinities, suggesting or representing\nentrance into the divine ~ge/nos~. No one will maintain that\n~genn\u00ea/t\u00eas t\u00f4=n the\u00f4=n~ is a \"very unnatural phrase\" (Wil.) for one\nwho has been \"adopted\" by the gods, who will recall the fact that at\nAthens the adopted person was inscribed ~eis tou\\s _genn\u00ea/tas_~ of\nthe adopter (Is. 7, 13; 15; 17; 43), or, which is precisely the same\nthing, ~eis tou\\s suggenei=s~ of the adopter (Is. 7, 27; 1).\nThereby he becomes himself ~genn\u00ea/t\u00eas~ of the members of the\n~ge/nos~ into which he thus enters; he is now their ~genn\u00ea/t\u00eas~, or,\nas it is once expressed in an absolutely equivalent phrase, their\n~_suggen\u00ea\\s_ kata\\ t\u00ea\\n poi/\u00easin~ ([Dem.] 44, 32).\n\nThus the fully initiated is ~genn\u00ea/t\u00eas~ of the divine family, ~kata\\\nt\u00ea\\n poi/\u00easin~.\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX XII\n\nMAGICAL EXORCISMS OF THE DEAD ON LATE _~kata/desmoi, phim\u00f4tika/~_,\nETC.\n\n\nInvocations and conjurings of ~a/\u00f4roi~ and other ~nekudai/mones~ of\nan earlier period are mentioned above (p. 594 f.). To a later period\nbelong {604} the _defixiones_ found at Cyprus (Kurion) and edited in\nthe _Proc. of the Soc. of Bibl. Archaeology_, p. 174 ff. The\n_defixiones_ are there called ~parath\u00ea=kai, _phim\u00f4tikai\\_ tou=\nantidi/kou~ (i, 39, and frequently), or ~phim\u00f4tika\\ katathe/mata~\n(iv, 15, etc.). _~phimou=n~_ and _~phim\u00f4tiko/n~_ in this rude\nEgypto-Syrian Greek are equivalent to the terms, otherwise usual for\nsuch magic charms, _~katadei=n, kata/desmos~_ (see above, chap. ix,\nn. 107). See also _P. Mag. Lond._ (Kenyon, _Greek Pap. in BM._, p.\n114), l. 967 ff.: in an appeal to a god (~deu=ro/ moi kai\\)\n_phi/m\u00f4son_, hupo/taxon, katadou/l\u00f4son to\\n dei=na t\u00f4=| dei=ni\nktl.~--ib., p. 97, l. 396 ff.: ~_phim\u00f4tiko\\n_ kai\\ hupotaktiko\\n\ngennai=on kai\\ ka/tochos; lab\u00f4\\n mo/lubon apo\\ psuchropho/rou\ns\u00f4l\u00ea=nos poi/\u00eason la/mnan kai\\ epi/graphe chalk\u00f4=| graphei/\u00f4|~\n(bronze is a magic metal), ~h\u00f4s hupokei=tai, kai\\ the\\s para\\\na/\u00f4ron~ (see above, p. 594 f.) here follows the rest of the\nbarbarous text.--On these Cypriote _defixiones_ among the other\ninvocations regularly appear those addressed to the souls of the\nunquiet dead, to the ~dai/mones polua/ndrioi~ (vi, 17. adds\n~pepelekisme/noi kai\\ es[taur\u00f4me/noi~ or ~eskolopisme/noi~? cf.\nLuc., _Philops._ 29]) ~kai\\ biotha/natoi kai\\ a/\u00f4roi kai\\ a/poroi\ntaph\u00ea=s (t\u00ea=s hiera=s taph\u00ea=s~ iv, 18): thus i, 30 f., and\nfrequently. The ~dai/mones _polua/ndrioi_~ were probably the souls\nof executed criminals whose bodies were thrown out into the common\nburial grounds--as at Melite in Athens: Plu., _Themist._ 22--the\n~polua/ndria~ (cf. Perizon. on Ael., _VH._ 12, 21). ~biotha/natoi\nei/te xe/noi ei/te ento/pioi~ are invoked, iv, 4. Invocation is made\nin common to: ~tu/mbe panda/krute kai\\ chtho/nioi theoi\\ kai\\\nHeka/t\u00ea chthoni/a kai\\ Herm\u00ea= chtho/nie kai\\ Plou/t\u00f4n kai\\ Erinu/es\nhupochtho/nioi kai\\ humei=s hoi h\u00f4=de kat\u00f4|k\u00eame/noi a/\u00f4roi kai\\\nan\u00f4/numoi~ (see _Rh. Mus._ 50, 20, 3): i, 35, and frequently\nrepeated with the same formula. What we have here is of frequent\noccurrence: a dead person is called upon to carry out a curse. An\nearly example is _CIG._ 539: ~katad\u00f4= autou\\s~ (the persons to be\ncursed) ~soi/, On\u00ea/sime~ (Attica, fourth century B.C.). The tablet\nin B\u00f6ckh, i, p. 487, admits the reading ~On\u00ea/sime~ as well as\n~On\u00ea/sim\u00ea~. The latter (as a nominative is preferred by W\u00fcnsch,\n_Tab. Defix._, p. ivb, p. 25 (n. 100), simply in order to expel\nevery example of the invocation of a dead person to carry out a\ncurse. But this is only a petitio principii; and if we accepted\n~On\u00easi/m\u00ea~ (as the name of the curser) at least the addition of some\nword like ~eg\u00f4/~ after ~autou\\s soi/~ would be necessary--for which\nthere is no room on the tablet. It will be necessary to retain the\ngenerally accepted vocative ~On\u00ea/sime~ (to which the coming ~pa/ntas\n. . . t\u00earei=n~, l. 5-8, is much better suited than to the following\n~Herm\u00ea=~, l. 8, as in W\u00fcnsch's version). There is nothing remarkable\nin the invocation here of the individual ~nekudai/m\u00f4n~ by name (thus\ndoubling the force of compulsion exerted; cf. Kroll, _Rh. Mus._, 52,\n345 f.) to complete and carry out the curse: parallels are given\nabove, p. 594 ff., and in the above-mentioned Cypriote ~phim\u00f4tika/~:\ncf. also _CIG._ 5858b, ~dai/mones kai\\ pneu/mata~ (i.e. \"souls\") ~en\nt\u00f4=| to/p\u00f4| tou/t\u00f4| th\u00ealuk\u00f4=n kai\\ arrenik\u00f4=n, exorki/z\u00f4 huma=s~.\n\nThe custom of burying such magic defixions was astonishingly\nwidespread. Defigi diris deprecationibus nemo non metuit, Plin.,\n_NH._ 28, 19. In the places where Latin was spoken such abominations\nwere {605} indeed even more common than in Greek-speaking countries.\n(The Latin _defixiones_ are collected now by W\u00fcnsch, _Tab. Defix._\nxxv f.) The practice had a long life and is not quite dead even\nto-day. On the Roman side examples from the seventh and eighth\ncenturies are by no means rare: see e.g. [Aug.] _Hom. de Sacrileg._,\n\u00a7 20. For a Greek example see e.g. the story ap. Sophronius, _SS.\nCyri et Ioannis Miracula_ (saec. vi), chap. 55, p. 3625 Migne:\nmagical objects were buried under the doorstep of the victim's\nhouse; were discovered and dug up; whereupon the death immediately\nfollowed of--not the victim but--the magician.\n\n\n12_th August_, 1897 (= 2nd German Ed.).\n\n\n\n\nINDEX\n\n\n_The figures indicate pages, except where they follow a Roman\nnumeral, in which case they refer to the numbered notes._\n\nAbarbare\u00eb and Boukolion, xiv, ii, 105.\n\nAbaris, 300.\n\nAbioi, 63.\n\nAbipones in Paraguay, i, 30; viii, 28.\n\nAcademy, its doctrine of the Soul, xiv, 1.\n\nAcheron, ~Acherousia\\s li/m\u00ean~, i, 67; v, 25; 241.\n\nAcheron, god of Hades, 591.\n\nAchilles, i, 41; in Hades, 39; translated, 64 f.; on the ~maka/r\u00f4n\nn\u00ea=sos~, xiv, ii, 99; on Leuke, xiv, ii, 102; as Hero or God, 66;\n126; iv, 3, 87, 137; xiv, ii, 42.\n\nAdmetos, xii, 40; ix, 90.\n\nAdonis, iii, 30.\n\nAdoption, 172; Ritual Act of Adoption in the Mysteries, 601 f.\n\nAeneas translated, xiv, ii, 110, 114 (ii, **3).\n\nAeracura, xiv, ii, 144.\n\nAeschylus, 157; vii, 12; 422 f.; _Agam._ 1235, 591 f.\n\nAether, the element of the Souls, 435 f.; dwelling place of Souls,\n170-1; x, 45; xiv, 53, 69; 541.\n\nAethiopians, 63.\n\nAges, different, of Mankind (Hesiod), 67 f.; Golden Ages, ii, 49;\nvii, 18.\n\nAgamemnon translated, xiv, ii, 99.\n\n~a/gamoi~ after death, 586; xiv, ii, 154.\n\nAgathos daimon, v, 133.\n\nAgides in Sparta, iv, 53.\n\nAgon, see _Funeral Games_.\n\nAgriania, viii, 28; ix, 11-12.\n\nAgrianios, name of a month in **Boeotia, v, 92.\n\nAiaia, ii, 14.\n\nAiakos, vii, 13.\n\nAias, Hero, 126; 137; xiv, ii, 55, 102; Sophokles' Aias, xii, 88.\n\n~ai/desis~, v, 151.\n\n~Ha/id\u00eas = tha/natos, Tha/natos~, xii, 4; = the grave, xiv, ii,\n135; confusion of the two ideas, ib., 92; cf. _Hades_.\n\n~eis Ai/dao, A/\u00efdo/sde~, i, 32.\n\n~Ha/idou m\u00ea/t\u00ear~, 591 f.\n\n~haimakouri/a~, iv, 13.\n\nAipytos, 123; iv, 53.\n\nAir, see _Aether_.\n\nAithalides, xi, 51; 599.\n\nAithiopis, 64; v, 166; xiv, ii, 102.\n\nAkrisios, iii, 43.\n\nAktaion, 134.\n\nAkousilaos, 593.\n\nAlabandos, iv, 138.\n\nAlaric, xiv, ii, 172.\n\n~ala/st\u00f4r~, v, 148, 178; xii, 73; 592, 595.\n\nAlbanians in the Caucasus, i, 30.\n\nAletes, ix, 66.\n\nAlexander the Great reaches the land of the Blest, xiv, ii, 101;\ntranslated, ib., 107; Return of, and false Alexanders, ib., 112.\n\nAlexander of Aphrodisias, xiv, 34.\n\nAlexis, comic poet, xiv, ii, 143.\n\n~alit\u00ea/rios~, v, 176, 178.\n\nAlkandros, iii, 56.\n\nAlkmaion Hero, iv, 105, 136; Physician, xi, 28, 35, 40, 55; xii,\n150; xiii, 22.\n\n_Alkmaionis_, v, 17, 40.\n\nAlkmene, iv, 134; translated, xiv, ii, 99.\n\nAlkon, iii, 56.\n\n~allathea/des~, v, 88.\n\nAllegorical interpretation of myths, vi, 23.\n\nAlthaimenes, iii, 4.\n\nAmbrosia, 58.\n\nAmeinias (Pythagorean), xi, 30.\n\nAmelesagoras, ix, 58.\n\n~ametastrepti/~, ix, 104.\n\nAmpelius, _Lib. Mem._, viii, 3; iii, 12. {608}\n\nAmphiaraos, translated, 89 f., 92-3; (Zeus Amph.), 94, 101, 159; (not\noriginally a god), iii, 57; (later cult of), xiv, ii, 104.\n\n~amphidro/mia~, ix, 72.\n\nAmphilochos translated, iii, 5, 13, 56; 133; iv, 105; xiv, ii, 104,\n114.\n\nAmphilytos, ix, 59.\n\nAmphion, 238.\n\n~amu/\u00eatoi~, 586 f.\n\nAmyklai, 99 f.\n\n~anabi\u00f4/seis~, xi, 103.\n\nAn\u00e6sthesia, see _Insensibility_.\n\nAnagyros, Hero, 134.\n\n~ana/mn\u00easis~ as taught by Pythagoras, Empedokles, Plato, xi, 96; 598\nf.\n\nAnaxagoras, vi, 23; 386; 432; xii, 143; fr. 6 [12], xi, 110-11.\n\nAnaximander, x, 38; 366; xi, 98.\n\nAnaximenes, 366; xi, 98.\n\nAncestor-cult, 10 f.; 27 f.; 77 f. (Hesiod); Ancestors in the cult\nof Heroes, 119 f., 527 f.; of the ~ge/n\u00ea~, etc., 124 f. (with nn.).\n\nAnchises translated, xiv, ii, 110.\n\n~agchistei/a~ (in the cult of souls), v, 42, 141; 176; xiv, ii, 10.\n\n~anie/nai (ta\\ kala/~, etc.), v, 120.\n\nAnima and animus in Lucretius, xiv, 74.\n\nAnimals in cult of the dead, v, 105; care of animals enjoined, vi,\n35 (and see _Food_); skin of, apotropaic use of, xi, 58 (v, 167);\nsouls of, x, 45; xiii, 40.\n\nAndronikos (Peripatetic), 512.\n\n~a/nemoi~, x, 45.\n\n~anemokoi=tai~, ix, 107.\n\nAngekoks, of Greenland, 262; ix, 117.\n\nAngels, xiv, ii, 144.\n\nAnthropogony (Orphic), 341 f., (Hesiodic) 67 f.\n\nAnios, iv, 102.\n\nAnthesteria, 168; ix, 11.\n\n_Anthologia Palatina_, xiv, ii, 122.\n\n~anthr\u00f4podai/m\u00f4n~, ii, 43.\n\nAntichrist, xiv, ii, 113.\n\nAntigone, 163; 426; xii, 94.\n\nAntilochos translated, xiv, ii, 102 (p. 567).\n\nAntinous translated, xiv, ii, 114.\n\nAntiochos of Kommagene, his tomb, xiv, ii, 13 (p. 554).\n\nAntiphon (of Rhamnous, the orator), v, 176; 588.\n\nAntipodes, xiv, ii, 101.\n\n~a\u00f4rotha/natoi~, 594 (add Phryn. App. Soph. in Bekk. Anecd., 24,\n22).\n\n~a/\u00f4roi~, xiii, 36; 533; 553; 594; 604; xiv, ii, 154.\n\n~a\u00f4robo/ros~ Hekate, ix, 92.\n\nApis, ix, 68.\n\n~apokata/stasis~, x, 47; 519.\n\nApollo, 97 f.; 130; xii, 40; god of expiation, 180 f.; as leader of\nthe Souls, xiv, ii, 146; and Dionysos, 287 f.; supplants Gaia, 290;\nHyakinthos, 99 f.; ~Atu/mnios~, etc., iv, 99.\n\nApolline _mantik\u00e9_, 289 f.\n\nApollonia in Chalkidike, v, 92.\n\nApollonios of Tyana, ii, 18; xiv, ii, 115.\n\n~apomagdali/ai~, 595.\n\n~apoma/ttein~, **589, 590.\n\n~apo/nimma~, ix, 88.\n\n~apopomp\u00ea/ (daimo/n\u00f4n)~, v, 168.\n\n~apo/taphoi~, **xiv, ii, 20.\n\n~apotropai=oi (theoi/)~, v, 168.\n\nApparitions of the departed, xiv, ii, 154; see _Ghosts_.\n\n~a/psucha~ trial held over, iv, 118.\n\n~arai=os (ne/kus, dai/m\u00f4n)~, v, 148; xii, 107.\n\nAratos as Hero, xiv, ii, 57 f.\n\n~arch\u00eagoi/, arch\u00eage/tai~, iv, 51, 55; 527.\n\nArchelaos, the philosopher, 432; xii, 152.\n\nArchemoros Vase, v, 40.\n\nArchilochos, v, 173.\n\nArchon Basileus at Athens, 178.\n\nAreopagos, 162; v, 145; 178.\n\nArgeios and Herakles, i, 35.\n\nArgimpaioi, x, 78.\n\nArginousai, battle of, 162.\n\nAristaios, iii, 6.\n\nAristeas of Prokonnesos, 300, 596.\n\nAristogeiton and Harmodios in Hades, 237.\n\nAristogeiton, Speech against, vii, 15.\n\nAristomenes as Hero, 528.\n\nAristophanes _Frogs_, 240.\n\nAristophon, comic poet, 601.\n\nAristotle, 383; xiv, 1; 493 f. (_An._ 408_b_, 18; xiv, 27).\n\nAristoxenos, xi, 47, 52; 512.\n\nAristophanes of Byzantium, 583.\n\nArkesilaos, xiv, 1.\n\nArt of the Greeks, 157; Cult of Souls as represented in, v, 105.\n{609}\n\nAskesis (Asceticism), vi, 35; 302, 338; Orphic, 343; Thracian, x,\n78; Pythagorean, xi, 47; Empedokles, 381; practised in foreign\nmystery-religions, 546.\n\nAsklepiades, doctor, xi, 69.\n\nAsklepios, iii, 13; chthonic, mantic, 100 f.; his death by\nlightning, 582; Asklepiadai, iv, 92 f.\n\nAsphalt (bitumen), apotropaic virtue of, v, 95.\n\n~aspho/delos~ sacred to the ~chtho/nioi~, ix, 115.\n\nAssociations: burial, xiv, ii, 4; religious, xiv, ii, 53.\n\nAstakides, xiv, ii, 105; 582.\n\nAstarte, iii, 30.\n\nAstrabakos, 137.\n\n~a/taphoi~, restless wandering of, 163; v, **147; 595 (i, 33).\n\n~ate/lestoi~, uninitiated, lying in mud in the underworld, vii, 15;\n586 f.\n\n~atha/natos p\u00eag\u00ea/~ (in the underworld), xiv, ii, 151.\n\nAthenaeus (139 E), iii, 48.\n\nAthena\u00efs, ix, 59.\n\nAthene ~apotropai/a~, v, 168.\n\nAthenodoros, philosopher and Hero, 530.\n\nAthens, 98; A. and Eleusis, 219 f.\n\nAtlantes, x, 78.\n\nAtomists, 385 f.; 506.\n\nAtonement in Plato (Purgation), xiii, 36.\n\nAttis, iii, 30; viii, 55, 546.\n\nAugustine, xiv, ii, 87.\n\nAugustus, ascent to Heaven, of, xiv, ii, 107.\n\nAurelius, M. Antoninus, xiv, 44, 63, 69; 504.\n\nAusonius, xiv, ii, 167.\n\nAustralian natives, religious dances of, viii, 55; 585.\n\nAutolykos, iv, 101; xiv, ii, 43.\n\nAuthority, later Antiquity's need of, 545.\n\n_Axiochos_, the pseudo-Platonic dialogue, vii, 15; xii, 120; 602 f.\n\nAvenging spirit, v, 148, 176; cf. ~ala/st\u00f4r~.\n\nAverting the eves from the sight of spirits, ix, 104.\n\nAvoiding the sight of spirits, iv, 84; ix, 104.\n\n\nBaal, ecstatic prophets of, viii, 43.\n\nBabo, v, 19; 591.\n\nBabylonia, i, 44.\n\nBacchanalia in Rome, xiv, ii, 106; viii, 54.\n\nBakchiadai, iv, 46, 47.\n\n~Ba/kchos~, viii, 10, 35; 335; cf. _Dionysos_.\n\n~Ba/kchoi~, viii, 31 f.\n\nBakis, Bakides, 292; ix, 58, 63, 66; 595.\n\nBanishment, 163; in expiation of murder, 175 f. (v, 142 f.).\n\nBanquet of the Pure (Orphic doctrine of), in the other world, vii,\n18; x, 70.\n\nBarathron at Athens, v, 32.\n\nBarbarossa, legend of, iii, 16.\n\n~Basili/dai~, iv, 47.\n\n~Bassareu/s~ (Bassarides), viii, 10 f.\n\nBatloka, viii, 30.\n\nBaubo, 591 f.\n\nBeans, see _Food, prohibition of_.\n\nBeer known to the Thracians, viii, 38.\n\nBendis, Bendideia at Athens, x, 4.\n\nBerenike, translated, xiv, ii, 107.\n\nBessoi in Thrace, 260; viii, 53-4.\n\n~biaiotha/natoi (biotha/natoi, bi/aioi~), 175 f.; v, 148, 176; 594\nf.; 604.\n\nBirds (incarnations of Heroes), xiv, ii, 102.\n\nBirth, pollution of, 295.\n\nBirthday as day of remembrance of the dead, v, 89; xiv, ii, 18, 45.\n\nBiton and Kleobis, xiv, ii, 148, 170.\n\nBlack objects (trees, fruit, etc.) sacred to ~chtho/nioi~, and hence\nhave kathartic properties, v, 61; ix, 81; cf. ix, 26; 590.\n\n_Blest_, of the dead, 171; vii, 10; xiv, ii, 31; 541 (cf.\n~makari/t\u00eas~ and _Islands of the Blest_).\n\nBlindness follows the sight of a deity, xiv, ii, 41.\n\nBliss, life of, in Hades; see _Utopia_.\n\nBlood = thought, 380.\n\nBoccaccio, iv, 134.\n\nBo\u00ebthos, xiv, 34 (fin.), 57.\n\nBones of Heroes, cult paid to, 122.\n\nBorn, better not to be, xii, 10.\n\nBoukolion, xiv, ii, 105.\n\n~Bouko/loi~, Dionysiac, viii, 35.\n\nBouselidai, v, 69, 129.\n\nBrahminism, 302; x, 83.\n\nBrasidas, as Hero, iv, 20; 128.\n\nBreathing out the soul, i, 25; 30.\n\nBride, contests for the hand of a, i, 19.\n\nBronze: see _Noise_, etc.\n\nBrotinos (Pythagorean), x, 7. {610}\n\nBrutus, 515; xiv, ii, 88.\n\nBuddhism, viii, 60; x, 83; xi, 54, 96.\n\nBurial, i, 34; oldest customs of, 22 f.; coffinless, v, 61, 62;\ninhumation and burning in Attica, v, 58; within the house, at the\nhearth, v, 66; xiv, ii, 9; within the city, v, 68; xiv, ii, 8.\n\nBurial societies, xiv, ii, 4.\n\nBurning and inhumation, 19 f.; burning the possessions of the dead,\ni, 30, 51; burning the dead; see _Cremation_.\n\nButios of Antilles, 262.\n\n\nC\u00e6sar, deification of, xiv, ii, 111.\n\nCalling home the Souls, 42.\n\nCanosa, vase from, vii, 27.\n\nCannibalism, x, 54.\n\nCaracalla as an avatar of Alexander, xiv, ii, 112.\n\nCato of Utica, xiv, 64.\n\nCave of Zeus in Crete, 96 f.\n\nCave-deities, 89 f.; viii, 68.\n\nCaves, sleep in, ix, 116.\n\nCatacombs, xiv, ii, 144, 166, 174.\n\nCelsus, xiv, ii, 96.\n\nCelts, x, 81.\n\nCenotaph, i, 88.\n\nCeremonial of funerals restricted, 165, 167; v, 135; 540.\n\nCities, Founders of, 127 f.; cf. ~arch\u00eagoi/~.\n\nChains attached to a sacred statue, iv, 108.\n\n~chai=re~ on tombstones, 526 f.\n\nChalkis, criminal law of, v, 145.\n\n~cha/risma~, 292.\n\nCharon, 237.\n\n~Char\u00f4/nion~, v, 23.\n\nCharon's fare given to the dead, 18; 162; vii, 9.\n\nChildren, importance of, 172; xii, 7.\n\nChina, ancestor-worship in, v, 129.\n\n~choai/~, for the dead, v, 106, 120.\n\nChoes, v, 95; ix, 11.\n\n~chr\u00eastoi/~ of the dead, xiv, ii, 29 f. (vii, 10).\n\nChristianity; ascetics and exorcists, 292, xiv, ii, 171, 179; use of\nword ~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~, xiv, ii, 82; violation of graves by, xiv, ii, 11;\nHell, 242; future rewards and punishments, xiv, ii, 96; rebirth,\n602; Antichrist, xiv, ii, 113.\n\nChristi, Russian sect of, viii, 57.\n\nChrysippos, xiv, 40, 47, 60-1; xiv, ii, 87.\n\nChthonic deities, 158 f., 218 f.; vi, 29; groups of ~chtho/nioi~, v,\n19; invoked at marriage and birth, 171; ix, 91.\n\nChytroi, festival at Athens, 168; ix, 11.\n\nCicero, vi, 22, 23; xiv, 54; 519; xiv, ii, 71, 96.\n\nCliff of Leukas, xiv, ii, 102.\n\nClosing the eyes of the dead, i, 25.\n\nCoffin-burial, v, 60.\n\nCollegia funeraticia, xiv, ii, 4.\n\nColonies, Greek, 27; 156.\n\nComedy, Descents to Hades in, 240.\n\nConscience, 294, 384.\n\nConsciousness division of, 595; see ~e/kstasis~.\n\n_Consolationes_, xiv, ii, 6, 100.\n\nCorinth, criminal law of, v, 145.\n\nCornutus, 504.\n\nCorpes devoured by a daimon (Eurynomos), vii, 25; (Hekate), ix, 92.\n\nCosmopolitanism, v, 34; 499 f.\n\nCosmos, 29.\n\nCostume, see _Dress_.\n\nCoulanges, Fustel de, iv, 48; v, 131.\n\nCremation, 8, 19 f., 28; i, 66; iv, 38; v, 33, 58; and burial in\nlater period, v, 58.\n\nCrete, cult of Zeus in, 96 f.; v, 167; ix, 113-14 (mantic and\nkathartic reputation).\n\nCreuzer, 223.\n\nCrossways, 216; ix, 88.\n\nCrowning the dead body with garlands, v, 40.\n\nCrowns (of flowers) for the dead, v, 40.\n\nCrumbs, etc., left on the ground for the Souls, v, 114.\n\nCult-societies, 221.\n\nCure of diseases by prophets, 294 f.\n\nCurses against tomb-violators, 526 f.\n\nCurse-tablets; see _Defixiones_.\n\nCycle, Epic, 34, 64 f., 75, 90.\n\nCyclic poetry, editing of, x, 17.\n\nCynics, v, 34; 499.\n\nCypress at funerals, v, 39.\n\n\nDaeira, Daira, ~Daeiri/t\u00eas~ at Eleusis, vi, 8.\n\n_daemonium meridianum_, ix, 96; 592.\n\nDaimones, deities of second rank, i, 56; distinct from Heroes, iv,\n23; xii, 121; in Hesiod, 70 f.; Empedokles, 381; Stoics, 500. {611}\n\n~dai/m\u00f4n~, personal, of individual men, xiv, 44; (= ~po/tmos~),\nxii, 26; xiv, 44; ~agatho\\s d.~, v, 133; cf. xiv, 44; ~dai/m\u00f4n\nthn\u00eato/s (anthr\u00f4podai/m\u00f4n, nekudai/m\u00f4n)~, ii, 43.\n\n~dai/mones apotro/paioi~, v, 168; ~arai=oi~, v, 148; ~meili/chioi~,\nv, 168; ~pla/n\u00eates~, 592; ~prostro/paioi~, v, 148, 176; = Angel,\nxiv, ii, 144; ~daimo/n\u00f4n m\u00ea/t\u00ear~, 591.\n\nDaites, Trojan Hero, iv, 3.\n\nDamon, ix, 19.\n\nDanaides, 242; 587.\n\nDances, religious, 257; viii, 55; ix, 19.\n\nDance, circular, in cult of Dionysos, viii, 15.\n\nDante, 33, 242.\n\nDanube, mouths of, xiv, ii, 102.\n\nDaphne, 100.\n\n~da/phn\u00ea~, v, 38, 95; ix, 46; xi, 85.\n\nDaphnis, xiv, ii, 105.\n\nDays, unlucky, v, 158.\n\nDea Syria, viii, 55.\n\nDead, offerings to, 18 f.; 165 f.; v, 105; dirge for the, 18, 164;\nBanquet of, 168; sacrifices to (Patroklos), 12 f.; in Mycenean\ngraves, 22 f.; in Od. ~l~, 36 f.; elsewhere, 116, 164, 167 f.;\nOracles of the, 24; i, 73; Judges of the (Aesch. and Plato), 238 f.;\n(Pindar), xii, 34 f.; (Aesch.), xii, 77; (later), 541; classes of\nthe, xii, 62; xiv, ii, 127; imagined as skeletons, xiv, 11, 92;\nexorcism, conjuration of, see _Souls_ and _Ghosts_.\n\nDeath, **3; superior to life, 229, 542; causing pollution, 295; of\ngods, iii, 30; Black Death, 284.\n\n_Defixiones_, ix, 92, 107; 534, 594, 603 f.\n\nDeification of Rulers, 537 f. (cf. 530 f.).\n\nDelos, purification of, ix, 119.\n\nDelphic Oracle, regulates expiatory rites, v, 167; 180 f.; authority\nof, in the cult of Heroes, 128 f.; gives support to the cult of\nSouls, 174; to the Eleusinian worship, vi, 5; to the worship of\nDionysos in Attica, vi, 9; sources of oracular inspiration, 289 f.;\nimportance of D. in religious life of Greece, 157; grave of Python\nat D., 97; Delphic funeral ordinance, v, 45.\n\nDelphinion at Athens, v, 172.\n\nDemeter (and Kore), 160 f.; v, 168; 218 f.\n\nDemetrios Poliorketes as Hero, xiv, ii, 69.\n\nDemetrios, Cynic, xiv, 64.\n\nDemigods (~h\u00eami/theoi~), iv, 23.\n\n~d\u00ea=moi~ called after ~ge/n\u00ea~ in Attica, etc., iv, 52.\n\nDemokritos, xi, 35; 385 f.; xii, 150; xiii, 27; ~peri\\ t\u00f4=n en\nha/|dou~, xi, 103 (fragg. moral.).\n\nDemonassa, vi, 35.\n\nDemonology, 534.\n\nDemopho\u00f6n, i, 41.\n\nDe mortuis nil nisi bene, v, 81; 170.\n\nDervishes, viii, 15, 43; 262, 266.\n\nDevil's Bride, ii, 7.\n\nDevil's Mother, 591.\n\nDexikreon, ix, 111.\n\nDexion the Hero (Sophokles), iv, 71.\n\nDiagoras of Melos, 240; xii, 65.\n\nDiana = Empousa, 592; in the Middle Ages, ix, 101.\n\nDiasia at Athens. v, 168.\n\nDies nefasti, v, 158.\n\nDikaiarchos, xi, 52; 512; 599.\n\nDikte, Mt. in Crete, 96.\n\nDiochaites, Pythagorean, xi, 30.\n\nDiogenes, of Apollonia, 432, 436.\n\nDiogenes, Cynic, vi, 27; 239.\n\nDiogenes Laertius (viii, 31), xi, 50.\n\nDiomedes, 67; on the ~maka/r\u00f4n n\u00ea=sos~, xiv, ii, 99.\n\nDionysos, the Thracian, 256 f.; Greek god, 282 f.; Greek (not\nThracian) name, ix, 1; Orphic, 335 f.; 340 f.\n\n~Dio/nusos maino/menos~, viii, 4; Lord of Souls, 168, 271; ix, 11;\nat Delphi, 97, 287; Oracle of Dionysos, 260, 290; as Bull, viii, 19,\n33, 35; x, 35; as ~bouko/los~, viii, 35; at Eleusis, vi, 9;\nEpiphanies of, 258, 279, 285; Worship of, in Rome, viii, 54; xiv,\nii, 106.\n\nDioscuri, ~heter\u00ea/meroi~, xi, 51; translated, xiv, ii, 109.\n\nDipylon, cemetery at Athens, v, 58.\n\nDipylon vases, 165.\n\nDirge, 164.\n\nDiscovery, geographical, xiv, ii, 101.\n\nDisease, origin of, in daimonic influence, 294 f.; ix, 81-2.\n\nDivision of consciousness, 595 f.\n\nDodona, iii, 14; ix, 42. {612}\n\nDogs sacrificed to Hekate, 298, 589-90; Hekate appears as a dog, ix,\n99; 595; on grave reliefs, v, 105.\n\nDorians in the Peloponnese, 27.\n\nDrakon, 115, 176.\n\nDrama, 285, 421; in cult, 222, 258; mystic drama at Eleusis, 227.\n\nDreams, visions of the dead in, 7 (proving survival); xiv, ii, 154;\ni, 55; see _Incubation_ and _Prophecy_.\n\nDress in Dionysiac worship, 257.\n\nDrimakos (Hero), 530.\n\nDriving out the souls, v, 99, 100.\n\nDruids, x, 81.\n\nDrusilla (ascent to heaven), xiv, ii, 107.\n\nDryopes, v, 18.\n\n~Du/alos~, viii, 10.\n\nDuty, as conceived by the Stoics, 498 f.\n\n\nEarth = Hell, xi, 75.\n\nEarth-deities; see _Chthonic_.\n\nEarth, Oracle of, at Delphi, 97, 160; ix, 46.\n\nEchetlos (Hero), 136.\n\nEchidna, v, 23.\n\nEckhart, xiii, 75.\n\n~egchutri/striai~, v, 77.\n\nEggs, kathartic use of, x, 55; 590.\n\nEgypt, i, 5, 39; 242; 335; x, 8, 45; 346; xiv, ii, 109, 152-3, 144.\n\n~ekphora/~ of the dead body, v, 46, 50, 60.\n\n~e/kstasis~ (~enthousismo/s, katoch\u00ea/~), 30, 255; viii, 24; 258 f.;\n284 f.; 293; 300 f.; 384; 471; 547; 595 f.\n\nEleatics, 371 f.\n\nElements, the four, xi, 28; 379.\n\nEleusinian Mysteries, 218 f.; secrecy at, 222; promises made by,\n223; modern interpretations of, 223 f.; symbolism at, 226; later\nmention and end of (fourth century), 542; xiv, ii, 172; \"Lesser\nMysteries\" at Athens, 220; and Morality, 228.\n\nEleusis, v, 19, 21.\n\nElijah, **ii, 18; xiv, ii, 109.\n\n~elle/boros~ kathartic effects of, ix, 26, 75.\n\nElpenor, 17; i, 29, 33; 19; 20; 36.\n\nElysium, 55 f., 59 f., 75 f.; xiv, ii, 99; 541.\n\nEmbalming in Egypt, i, 39; in Sparta, iv, 46.\n\nEmpedokles, 378 f.; x, 72; xi, 28, 34, 42, 50, 56 f.; xii, 41; xiii,\n40, 68; xiv, ii, 107; 597.\n\nEmpedotimos, ix, 111-12; xii, 44; xiv, 53.\n\nEmpousa, vii, 25; 591.\n\n~enagi/zein~, iv, 15, 86.\n\n~e/nata~, an offering to the dead, v, 82-3.\n\nEnemies of the gods in Hades, 238, 241.\n\n~eniau/sia~ for the dead, v, 81, 90, 92.\n\n~e/ntheos (enthousiasmo/s)~: see ~e/kstasis~.\n\n~enthu/mion~, 216.\n\nEnlightenment in Greece, 79, 115, 292.\n\n~ennaet\u00eari/s~ in expiation of murder, xi, 78; xii, 34, 40; 180.\n\nEnoch, ii, 18; xiv, ii, 109.\n\nEoiai, Hesiodic, 593.\n\n~epag\u00f4g\u00ea/ (daimo/n\u00f4n)~, ix, 106-7.\n\nEphialtes (daimon), ix, 102; xiv, ii, 86; 592.\n\nEphyrai in Thesprotia, v, 23.\n\nEpicharmos, vi, 5; 436 f.; xii, 151; xiv, 53.\n\nEpidauros, iii, 13, 54.\n\nEpidemics, religious, 284.\n\nEpigenes, 597.\n\nEpikteta, Testament of, v, 126; xiv, ii, 18, 71.\n\nEpiktetos, 504; xiv, 3, 41, 44.\n\nEpicurus, doctrine of the soul, 504 f.; foundation for the cult of\nhis soul, v, 126, 137.\n\n_Epigrammata Graeca_, ed. Kaibel, xiv, ii, 119 f. (No. 594: 141).\n\nEpilepsy (see mental diseases), viii, 39.\n\nEpimachos, v, 19.\n\nEpimenides, 301; iii, 24; v, 57; 596; _Theogony_ of, ix, 123.\n\n~epipha/neia~ of Dionysos, 258; viii, 68; 285.\n\n~epipompai/ (daimo/n\u00f4n)~, v, 168; ix, 107.\n\nEpitaphs, 539 f. (see _Anth. Pal._).\n\n~ep\u00f4|dai/~, ix, 81-2, 107.\n\nErechtheus (Erichthonios), 98; 581.\n\nErinyes, ii, 6; v, 5, 97, 121; 178 f.; vii, 6; xii, 75; 592.\n\n~erinu/ein~, ix, 58.\n\nEros, v, 112.\n\n~escha/ra~, i, 53.\n\nEskimo, manner of burial, v, 67\n\nEssenes, x, 78; xiv, ii, 117.\n\nEsthonian cult of the dead, v, 99.\n\n~e/tai~, v, 141.\n\nEteoboutadai, iv, 52.\n\n~euag\u00ea/s~, xii, 58.\n\n~Eua/ggelos~ Hero, xiv, ii, 63, 144.\n\nEuadne, **582.\n\n~Eua/pan~, ix, 102 {613}\n\nEubouleus (Euboulos), god of the underworld, v, 7, 19; 220; xiv, ii,\n145.\n\nEudemos, _Ethics_ of, 512.\n\nEuhemeros, iii, 28.\n\nEukleides (Socratic), xiv, 44.\n\nEuklos, ix, 58.\n\nEumolpos, Eumolpidai, vi, 6, 16; x, 70.\n\nEunostos (Hero), 134.\n\nEuodos (Hero), 529.\n\nEupatridai in Athens, iv, 47; v, 139; 602 f.\n\nEuphemistic names for ~chtho/nioi~, v, 5.\n\nEuphorbos, 599.\n\nEuripides, 432 f.; _Alcestis_, xii, 121; _Bacchae_, 286; _Hecuba_,\nviii, 70; orthodoxy of, xii, 135.\n\nEurynomos, Hades-daimon, vii, 25.\n\nEurypontidai, iv, 53.\n\nEurysthenidai, iv, 53.\n\n~euseb\u00f4=n ch\u00f4=ros~, vii, 15; xiv, ii, 133.\n\nEuthykles, iv, 117.\n\nEuthymos, 135; 581.\n\nEvil, speaking, of the dead forbidden, v, 115.\n\nEvil, nature of, 470 (Plato); 498; xiv, 40, 60.\n\nExegetai, their advice sought in questions relating to the cult of\nSouls, v, 139, 174.\n\nExorcism, 604.\n\nExpiation, gods of, v, 168; sacrifices of, made to ~chtho/nioi~, v,\n167; after murder, 180 f.\n\nEyes of the dead, closing of, i, 25.\n\n\nFainting (~lipopsuchi/a~), i, 9.\n\nFame, all that is left to the dead, 43; xii, 13, 20, 25; xiv, ii,\n169.\n\nFamily graves in the country, v, 69, 70; 525 f.\n\nFate and guilt, 423 f., 426 f.\n\nFear of the dead, 16, 163, 169; of death, dispelled by Epicurus,\n506; breaks out at the end of the classical period, 545 (xiv, **ii,\n170).\n\nFeet of the corpse pointing towards the door, i, 26.\n\nFetishism in Greece, iv, 118.\n\nFigs, kathartic uses of, 590.\n\nFire, kathartic uses of, i, 41; ix, 127.\n\nFish: see _Food, prohibition of_.\n\nFlaminius as Hero, 531.\n\nFolk-poetry, 25; belief about the souls, 524; legends about the\n\"translated\", xiv, ii, 105.\n\nFolk tales (Greek), iv, 115; xiv, ii, 151.\n\nFood, Prohibition of certain foods (attributed to Eleusis), vi, 35;\namong the Orphics, x, 54-5; Thracian, x, 78; by Pythagoras, xi, 42,\n47; Empedokles, xi, 76, 85.\n\nFountains in Hades, xii, 62; xiv, ii, 151; of Immortality, xiv, ii,\n151.\n\nFravashi (Persian), i, 5.\n\nFrederick, legend of the return of the Emperor, 93; xiv, ii, 112.\n\nFreewill: see _Will_.\n\nFriendship in the doctrine of the Epicureans, 506.\n\nFuneral rites, in Homer, 17 f.; in later times, 162 f., 524 f.; of\nprinces, i, 17; of kings in Sparta, Corinth, Crete, iv, 46; at\npublic expense, xiv, ii, 5; refusal of, v, 32-3.\n\nFuneral feast in Homer, 18; later (~peri/deipnon~), 167; games, in\nHomer, 15; for Heroes, 116 f.; procession, 165; v, 60.\n\nFurious Host, ii, 7; 298; xiii, 5; (593).\n\nFustel de Coulanges; see _Coulanges_.\n\n\nGabriel, the Archangel, iv, 134.\n\nGaia, 160, 168; v, 121; at Delphi, 290.\n\nGambreion, mourning period of, v, 86.\n\nGames, 15, 116 f.; iv, 22; originally funeral ceremonies, 116 f.\n\nGanymedes, 58.\n\nGarganus, mountain in Italy, iv, 92, 96.\n\nGarlands for the dead, v, 40.\n\nGauls, x, 81.\n\nGello, 592.\n\n~gene/thlios dai/m\u00f4n~, xii, 26.\n\n~Gene/sia~, private and public, v, 15; 167.\n\n_Genesis_, ii, 18.\n\nGenetyllis, ix, 91.\n\n~ge/n\u00ea~, 124.\n\nGenius, i, 5; v, 132; xiv, 44.\n\n~genn\u00ea/t\u00eas t\u00f4=n the\u00f4=n~, 603.\n\nGerman tribes, i, 34; 22.\n\nGetai, 263.\n\nGhosts, 9; 21; 29; 134; v, 99, 104, 114; 534; xiv, ii, 154; 566; 590\nf.\n\n~Gi/g\u00f4n~, viii, 10.\n\nGlaukos, xiv, ii, 151.\n\nGnostics, xiv, ii, 179. {614}\n\nGods, in Homer, 25 f.; Olympians and others, **i, 56; idea of\ndivinity, xiv, ii, 107; Gods not immortal, 384; asleep or dead, iii,\n30; buried, 96 f.; birthdays of, v, 89; in human shape, iv, 134;\nvisiting men, ii, 38; compared with men, 253 f., 414; periodically\nappearing, viii, 28; of expiation, v, 168; amours of, iv, 134;\nconductors into the lower world, xiv, ii, 144 f.; unknown, iv, 62;\nstatues of, 136; see _Chthonic_.\n\nGoethe, xiii, **64.\n\nGolden Age, 67 f.; ii, 49; vii, 18.\n\n~gonei=s~, iv, 49; v, 146.\n\nGorgias, pupil of Empedokles, 378.\n\n~Gorgu/ra, Gorg\u00f4/~, vii, 25; 591.\n\nGrace of the gods (salvation), 342.\n\nGrave and Hades confused, xiv, ii, 92.\n\nGraves: see _Burial_, _Family-graves_, and _Rock-graves_; of Gods,\n96; of Asklepios, 101; Erechtheus, 98; Hyakinthos, 99; Kekrops, iii,\n41; Plouton, iii, 34; Python, 97; Zeus, 96; of Heroes, 121; cult of,\n123, 166 f.; silence at, v, 110; curses attached to, xiv, ii, 13.\n\nGrave-monuments, i, 28; v, 69 f.\n\nGrave-robbers, 526.\n\nGregory the Great, xiv, ii, 87.\n\nGrief, display of, disturbing to the dead, v, 49.\n\nGuardian spirit of individuals, xiv, 44.\n\nGuilt: see _Sin_ and _Fate_.\n\n\nHades, 26, 35 f., 159, 223, 236 f.; xii, 4, 62; 500, 535 f., 540 f.;\nPicture of, painted by Polygnotos, 241 f.; on vases from Southern\nItaly, vii, 27; cult of, 159; mother of, 591; entrances to\n(Ploutonia), v, 23; Ferryman of, vii, 9; Descents to, 32 f.; i, 62,\n65; iii, 8; 236 f.; 240 f.; (Epic), vii, 2-4; (Theseus and\nPeirithoos), vii, 3; (Herakles), 591; (in comedy), 240 f.; (vases),\nvii, 27; (Orphic), x, 60; (Pythag.), 600 f.; rivers of, 35, 237;\nvii, **21; Judges in, 247.\n\nHail: see _Weather-magicians_.\n\n~haimakouri/a~, iv, 13.\n\nHair, offering of, i, 14.\n\nHallucinations, 259; **262.\n\nHaloa, 222; vi, 35.\n\nHamilcar, translation of, xiv, ii, 109.\n\nHaokah dance of the Dakota, viii, 55.\n\nHarmodios, translation of, xiv, ii, 99; and Aristogeiton in the\nother world, vii, 5.\n\nHarmonia and Kadmos, xiv, ii, 99.\n\n~harmoni/a~ (of the soul), xi, 52.\n\nHarpocration on ~A/baris~, ix, 108.\n\nHarpies, 56; v, 124; 593.\n\nHashish, 259.\n\nHasisatra, ii, 18; xiv, ii, 109.\n\nHearth, earliest place of burial, v, 66.\n\nHeaven (the sky), as dwelling place of the Blest, xii, 44, 62; xiv,\nii, 134; ascent to, of Roman Emperors, xiv, ii, 107; of Apollonios\nof Tyana, xiv, ii, 115.\n\nHedonism, 492 (xiv, **3).\n\nHegesias, xiv, **3.\n\nHeirs, their duties to the dead, v, 129.\n\nHekabe, ix, 99.\n\nHekate, v, 5, 88, 168; 297 f., 590 f.; (_H. Hek._, p. 289 Ab.), 594;\nHosts of 593 f.; Banquet of, v, 97; 216; ix, 88, 103.\n\n~Hekatika\\ pha/smata~, 590 f.\n\nHektor, as Hero, iv, 35; xiv, ii, 41 (still worshipped with\nsacrifice in the middle of the fourth century in the Troad: Julian,\n_Ep._ 78, p. 603-4 H.).\n\nHelen, legend of her ~ei/d\u00f4lon~, i, 79; translated, ii, 21; xiv, ii,\n99, 102; given heroic honours, 137.\n\nHelios in Hades, xii, 38.\n\nHell, punishment in, 40 f.; 238 f., 242, 344, 415, 536; creatures\nof, 25, 590 f. (see _Kerberos_).\n\nHemithea, iv, 103.\n\n~h\u00eami/theos~, iv, 23.\n\nHephaistion, xiv, ii, 70.\n\nHerakles in the Odyssean Nekyia, 39; his descent to Hades, v, 25;\nvii, 4; 591; H. and Argeios, i, 35; H. and Eurystheus (Omphale), xii,\n40; as Hero-God, 132; translated, 581; xiv, ii, 103.\n\nHerakleides Ponticus, ix, 58, 60 (Sibyls), 108 (Abaris), 111, 96;\nxii, 44 (Empedotimos); xi, 61 (Empedokles); xiv, i, 53 (souls in the\nair); 599 f. (Pythagoras).\n\nHerakleitos, 367 f.; xi, 5, etc., 101; xii, 137, 150; 464; xiv, 32;\n499; 504; 597.\n\nHermes, conductor of souls, 9, 168; xiv, ii, 145. {615}\n\nHermione, cult of ~chtho/nioi~ there, iii, 34; v, 18, 26.\n\nHermippos, 600.\n\nHermotimos, 300 f.\n\nHero of Alexandria, xii, 150.\n\nHerodes Atticus, xiv, ii, 71, 131.\n\nHerodikos, of Perinthos, vii, 3; x, 7.\n\nHeroes, 74, 97 f., 115 f.; iii, 46; 254; 416; xii, 121; help in war,\n136 f.; graves of, 121; v, 68; games for, 116 f.; bones of,\ntransferred and worshipped, iv, 35-6; 529; as Birds, xiv, ii, 102;\nrelation with ~theoi/~ and ~dai/mones~, iv, 25; become gods, 132;\nHomeric \"Heroes\", iv, 26; in Hesiod, 74 f., 118; nocturnal sacrifice\nto, iv, 9; what falls to the ground sacred to, v, 114; in Pindar,\n414 f.; legends of, 134 f.; later, 527 f.\n\n~h\u00ea/r\u00f4s~ = a dead person, v, 110, 134; 531; (Christian), xiv, ii,\n82; applied to the living, 530 f.; xiv, ii, 68; nameless or\nadjectival Heroes, 126 f., 529; xiv, ii, 61-2; ~h\u00ea. iatro/s~ iv,\n94-5; xiv, ii, 45; ~h\u00ea. suggenei/as~, v, 132.\n\nHeroized Kings and Lawgivers, 128; Kings of Sparta, Corinth, and\nCrete, iv, 46; Warriors of the Persian Wars, 528; prominent men of\nlater times, 530; Heroizing easier in Boeotia, v, 134; in Thessaly,\nxii, 121; 532; becomes common, 531 f.; substitution of descendants\nfor original Hero, xiv, ii, 65.\n\nHero-Physicians (Oracular), 133; xiv, ii, 45.\n\n~h\u00ea/r\u00f4es duso/rg\u00eatoi~, v, 119.\n\n~h\u00ear\u00f4=|a~ at the doors, iv, 105, 136; v, 68.\n\n~H\u00ear\u00f4\u00efko/s~ of Philostratos, xiv, ii, 41.\n\n~h\u00ear\u00f4\u00ef\\s, h\u00ear\u00f4\u00efka/~, ix, 11; xiv, ii, 50; Birthday festivals of H.,\nv, 89.\n\n~h\u00ear\u00f4\u00efstai/~, xiv, ii, 53.\n\nHerodotos, 115; xii, 8.\n\nHerophile of Erythrai, ix, 60.\n\nHesiod, The Five Ages, 67 f.; _Op. et D._ (124), ii, 34; (141), ii,\n41; _Theog._ (411), ix, 95a.\n\nHesychos, vii, 6.\n\nHierapolis, its ~plout\u00f4/nion~, v, 23.\n\n~hierothe/sion~, xiv, ii, 13 (p. 554).\n\nHierophant at Eleusis, ~eunouchisme/nos~, vi, 12.\n\n~hilasmo/s~, v, 167.\n\nHippokrates, cult of, v, 89; xiv, ii, 45.\n\nHippolytos, iv, 38.\n\nHippon of Samos, 432.\n\nHippotes, xii, 40.\n\nHerdsman (shepherd), type of God, xi, 36; (see divine apparitions),\nxiv, ii, 41.\n\nHomer, 25 f., 157.\n\nHomicide, state trials of, 176 f.; held over inanimate objects (in\nAthens), iv, 118.\n\nHorace (_Odes_, iv, 2, 21), xii, 45.\n\nHoney-cakes offered to the underworld, i, 13; v, 98; vii, 6.\n\n~h\u00f4/ria, h\u00f4rai=a~ offered to the dead, v, 128.\n\nHorse in the cult of the dead, v, 105.\n\nHost, Furious, ii, 7; 298; xiii, 5; (593).\n\nHouse, earliest place of burial, v, 66.\n\nHouse-spirit, v, 132.\n\nHuman sacrifice, ix, 87; in the cult of Dionysos, 285; offered by\nEpimenides, ix, 121; in the cult of Heroes, xiv, ii, 49; replaced by\nanimal sacrifice or ~poin\u00ea/~, v, 144; 179-80.\n\nHumanity: see _Mankind_.\n\nHunt: see _Host_.\n\nHyades, iii, 45.\n\n~Huaki/nthia~, 99 f.\n\nHyakinthides, iii, 45.\n\nHyakinthos, 99 f.\n\n**Hydromantia, 589.\n\nHydrophoria at Athens, v, 98.\n\nHylas, xiv, ii, 105.\n\nHylozoism, 365, 385, 432.\n\n~hupopho/nia~, v, 154.\n\n\nIamblichos, _Vit. Pythag._, viii, 77.\n\nIakchos, 220 f.\n\nIanthe, iii, 3.\n\nIaso, iii, 56.\n\nIatromantic, 133.\n\nIatros, Hero, iv, 94-5; xiv, ii, 45.\n\nIceland, i, 43.\n\nIdaian cave in Crete, 96; 161.\n\nImages, cult of, 136.\n\nImmortal = godlike (becoming god), in Homer, 57; = _being_ a god,\n253 f.\n\nImmortality, Belief in, connected with Dionysiac religion, 263 f.;\namong Orphics, 343 f.; in Philosophy, 365 f.; 463 f.; 496; xiv, 60;\nin Popular Religion, 538 f.; 542; 546; doubts of, xiv, ii, 157.\n{616}\n\nImprecations: see _Curses_.\n\nIncas, i, 30.\n\nIncense in temples, viii, 39; ix, 19.\n\nIncubation, iii, 8; 92; ix, 46; Heroic oracles of, 133.\n\nIndians, Burial customs, 10, 21-2; cult of the dead, i, 75; v, 84-6,\n90, 105, 123; Yama in Hades, vii, 6; religious an\u00e6sthesia, viii, 26;\nYogis, viii, 43; kartharsis, ix, 78; Ascetics, 343; x, 78;\nphilosophy (Jainism), xi, 16; (South American) mutilation of\ncorpses, i, 34; (North American) cult of souls, v, 136.\n\nIndividualism, 117; 388 f.; 499 f.; 545.\n\nInheritance, laws of, v, 146.\n\nIno Leukothea, 58; iv, 104.\n\nInsanity: see _Madness_ and _Mental_.\n\nInscriptions (_I.G._ (_xiv_) _Sic. et It._ 641), xii, 49 f.; (_IG. M.\nAeg._ i, 142), xiv, ii, 146; (_Ath. Mitt._), xiv, ii, 164, 168.\n\nInsensibility to pain, etc., in visionary states, viii, 43.\n\nInspiration, prophecy of, 92 f.; (in Thrace), 260; (in Greece), 289 f.\n\nIntoxication, religious use of, viii, 39.\n\nInvisibility (in Homer), 56.\n\nIolaia in Thebes, iv, 21.\n\nIonia, 27 f.\n\nIphigeneia, 64, 66; xiv, ii, 99, 102.\n\nIphis, iii, 3.\n\nIron keeps away daimones and the dead, i, 72.\n\nIsaeus, v, 129.\n\nIschys, iii, 56.\n\nIsis, mysteries of, xiv, ii, 174.\n\nIslands of the Blest (Hesiod). 68 f.; (Pindar), 415 f.; translation\nof Heroes to, xiv, ii, 99; dwelling-place of all the pious, xiv, ii,\n100, 130 f.; discovered by sailors, xiv, ii, 101; identified with\nLeuke, xiv, ii, 99, 102.\n\nIsodaites, 271.\n\nIsokrates, vi, 22; ii, 43.\n\nIsthmian Games, iv, 22.\n\nIsyllos, iv, 2.\n\nIxion, vii, 11.\n\n\nJainism (see _Indian_), xi, 16.\n\nJapan, cult of dead in, v, 99.\n\nJaws of the dead, binding up the, xiv, ii, 2.\n\nJewish forgery of a Pindaric poem, xii, 45.\n\nJews, influenced by Greeks, xiv, ii, 14.\n\nJews influence Greeks, xiv, ii, 144.\n\nJudaeo-Hellenistic doctrine of the soul, xiv, ii, 117.\n\nJudgment in Hades, 238 f., 535 f., 541; Orphic, 344; Pindar, 415;\nPlato, xiii, 36.\n\nJulian the Apostate, xiv, ii, 107, 144, 171.\n\nJulius Kanus, xiv, 64.\n\njus talionis, x, 71.\n\nJustin, ~pro\\s He/ll.~, 3, xiv, ii, 151. (The emendation ~pidu/sas~\nis already mentioned, as I see too late, in the Mauriner edition of\nJustin Martyr. The apparently traditional ~ho/r\u00ea p\u00ead\u00ea/sas~ is indeed\npossible on grammatical grounds [analogous constructions, otherwise\npeculiar to poetry, are not unknown in prose: see Lobeck ad Aiac.^3,\np. 69-70], but provides no satisfactory sense.)\n\n\nKa of Egyptians, i, 5.\n\nKadmos translated to Islands of the Blest, xiv, ii, 99.\n\nKaiadas at Sparta, **v, 32.\n\nKaineus, iii, 3.\n\nKalchas, iv, 96.\n\nKalypso, xiv, ii, 105.\n\nKanobos, iii, 43.\n\nKanus Julius, xiv, 64.\n\nKapaneus, 581 f.\n\n~Kark\u00f4/~, 592.\n\nKarmanor, ix, 113.\n\nKarneades, xiv, 59, 61, 83.\n\n~karpou=n~, v, 126.\n\nKassandra, viii, 52; ix, 65.\n\n~katadei=n, kata/desmos, kata/desis~ in magic, ix, 107; 604.\n\n~katha/rmata~ given up to the spirits, ix, 88 (cf. 81).\n\nKathartic practices, etc., v, 36; 180; vi, 18; vii, 15; 294 f.; 302;\n378; 582; 585; 589 f.\n\n~ka/tharsis mani/as~ (music), ix, 19; (of Pythagoreans), xi, 48; by\nMelampous, 287; Bakis, 294; Orphic, 338 f.; 343; Empedokles, xi, 85;\nPlato, 470.\n\n~kathe/drai~, festival of Souls, v, 86.\n\n~ka/tochos~, of magic, ix, 107.\n\n~ka/tochoi, katoch\u00ea/, kate/chesthai~, of \"possession\", viii, 24, 44.\n\nKattadias (Devil-priests of Ceylon), viii, 55.\n\nKaukones, v, 12. {617}\n\nKaunians, v, 99.\n\nKausianoi, viii, 75, 77.\n\nKekrops, iii, 41.\n\nKeos, funeral ordinance from, v, 42, 52, 56, 74, 76-7, 87, 92, 135.\n\nKerberos, vii, 6.\n\n~k\u00ea=res~ = souls, i, 10; v, 100; ix, 92.\n\nKerkops (Pythagorean), x, 7; 597.\n\nKerykes, vi, 6, 16.\n\nKey, keeper of, in Hades, vii, 13.\n\nKikones of the Odyssey, 42.\n\nKimon as Hero, 129.\n\nKirke, 32; v, 169.\n\nKissing the hand to a grave, xiv, ii, 26-7.\n\nKleanthes, xiv, 41, 47.\n\n~kleidou=choi theoi/~, 247.\n\nKleisthenes, 124.\n\nKleitos, 58.\n\nKleobis and Biton, xiv, ii, 148.\n\nKleombrotos, xiv, 3.\n\nKleomedes (Hero), 129; xiv, ii, 114.\n\nKleomenes as Hero, xiv, ii, 59.\n\nKlymenos = Hades, v, 8, 18; reduced to rank of Hero, iii, 34.\n\nKnossos, 96; iii, 25.\n\nKore, 160; v, 11; 219 f.; 224; xiv, ii, 146.\n\nKoronis, iii, 56.\n\nKorybantism, viii, 36, 52; 286 f.\n\nKos (Ge), v, 16.\n\nKotytto, 336.\n\nKouretes, v, 167.\n\n~k\u00f4lu/mata~, magic spells, ix, 81.\n\nKragos, iii, 30.\n\nKrantor, xiv, 1.\n\nKrataiis, 593.\n\nKrates (Cynic), v, 34.\n\nKratinos, vii, 17.\n\nKratippos, 512.\n\n~krei/ttones~ = the dead, v, 65, 110, 117.\n\nKrinagoras, vi, 22.\n\nKritias, _Sisyphos_, x, 54.\n\nKritolaos, xiv, 32.\n\nKrobyzoi, viii, 65, 75.\n\nKrokos, iii, 43.\n\nKronos, ruler in Elysium, 76.\n\n~kte/rea kterei/zein~, i, 20, 29.\n\nKybele, 257; viii, 32, 43, 55; 286 f.; ix, 56; xiv, ii, 174.\n\nKychreus (~puchrei/d\u00eas o/phis~), iv, 129.\n\nKydas, ix, 66.\n\n**Kyffh\u00e4user, legend of, 93; xiv, ii, 112.\n\nKylon, at Athens, ix, 120.\n\nKyme, criminal law of, v, 145.\n\n_Kypria_, 64.\n\n\nLabyadai, their funeral ordinance in Delphi, v, 52, 85, 128.\n\nLamentation disturbs the dead, v, 49.\n\nLamia, vii, 25; 592 f.\n\nLanterns, feast of in Japan, v, 99.\n\nLaodike, iii, 6.\n\n_Lar familiaris_ and _Lares_ at Rome, v, 132.\n\nLatinus, translation of, xiv, ii, 110.\n\nLaurel, drives away ghosts, v, 95.\n\nLaw, unwritten, 163, 426; xii, 94.\n\nLebadeia, 90 f., 95; iii, 26; v, 19, 133; xiv, ii, 104.\n\nLectisternia, iii, 26; iv, 16.\n\nLekythoi, v, 38; 169; 170; 237.\n\nLemnos, feast of the dead in, ix, 76.\n\nLemuria in Rome, v, 99.\n\nLeonidas (as Hero), iv, 20; 528.\n\nLeosthenes (Hero), vii, 5; xiv, ii, 59.\n\nLerna, ix, 88; viii, 28.\n\nLethe, vii, 21; xii, 37; and Mnemosyne, fountains of, xiv, ii, 151.\n\nLeto, iii, 46\n\nLeuke, I. of Achilles, 65, 66; xiv, ii, 102; Cliff of, ib.\n\nLeukothea: see _Ino._\n\nLie, justification of, xii, 72.\n\nLife, 3, 31; repudiation of, viii, 75; only lent, xiv, ii, 161; 505;\nWater of life, xiv, ii, 151-2; Future Life, 236 f.; see _Hades_ and\n_Ways_.\n\nLightning sanctifies its victim, iii, 39; 100; v, 68; ix, 127; xii,\n54; xiv, ii, 154; 581 f.\n\nLinos, iii, 43.\n\nLobeck, 222.\n\nLocal deities and their cults, 25 f.; 27.\n\n~lo/gos~, 499; xiv, 69.\n\nLokroi, criminal law of, v, 145.\n\nLot, oracles received by means of (Delphi, 290.\n\n**~loutropho/roi~, 587.\n\nLucian, iii, 28; 236; _de Luctu_, xiv, ii, 2; _Philops._, xiv, ii,\n87, 144; **ix, 96.\n\nLucretius, 505.\n\nLydia, v, 167.\n\nLying-in-state of the dead, 165.\n\nLykaios, Zeus, v, 170.\n\nLykas (Hero), iv, 114.\n\nLykia, imprecatory tablets from graves in, 553.\n\nLykian language, iv, 99.\n\nLykos (Hero), iv, 114. {618}\n\nLykourgos, King of Edonians, ix, 3; in Sparta worshipped as Hero and\nGod, 132; sanctified by lightning, 581.\n\nLyric poetry of the Greeks, 157; 411 f.\n\nLysander as Hero, 531.\n\nLysimachos (Hero), xiv, ii, 67.\n\n~lu/sios Dio/nusos~, ix, 21; ~lu/sioi theoi/~, x, 50.\n\n~lu/sis~ of the soul, x, 61, 66; xiii, 67.\n\n\nM\u00e2, worshipped with ecstatic cult, viii, 43, 55.\n\nMacedonians, viii, 31.\n\nMachaon and Podaleirios, iv, 92.\n\nMacriani, xiv, ii, 112.\n\nMadness cured by magic, ix, 19, 81; cf. _Mental diseases_.\n\nMagical papyri, xiv, ii, 144; 589; 592; 604; cf. _Defixiones_.\n\nMagicians, among savage peoples, 261 f.; Greek, 294 f., 298 f.; xi,\n58; 533 f.; 604.\n\nMah\u00e2bh\u00e2rata, iii, 3.\n\n~maina/s~, 256.\n\n~makari/t\u00eas~ (of the dead), vii, 10; xiv, ii, 31.\n\n~maka/r\u00f4n n\u00ea=soi~: see _Islands of the Blest_.\n\nManes, v, 99, 133.\n\n~mani/a~, divine, 255 f.; 286 f.; in the worship of Dionysos, 282 f.\n\nManichaeans, x, 83.\n\nMankind, origin of, according to the Orphics, 341 f.; generations\n(Ages) of, in Hesiod, 67 f.\n\n~ma/nteis~, ix, 41 f.; as magicians, ix, 68.\n\n_Mantik\u00e9_ (inspired prophecy), 260, 289 f.\n\nMarathon, iv, 84; 136; Grave of the dead at, xiv, ii, 37.\n\nMarjoram, kathartic, apotropaic uses of, v, 36.\n\nMaron (Hero), xiv, ii, 41.\n\n~maschalismo/s~, 181; 582 f.\n\nMassagetai, 259.\n\nMaterialism, 385.\n\n\"Matriarchy,\" not Greek, xii, 75.\n\nMedea translation of, xiv, ii, 99; (v, 169).\n\nMedicine men (North American Indians), 262; ix, 68, 117; dance of\nthe Winnebago, viii, 55.\n\n~me/gara~, iii, **7.\n\n~meili/choi theoi/~, v, 168; ~Dio/nusos meili/chios~, ix, 21.\n\nMeilinoe, v, 5; ix, 96.\n\nMelampous, 89; 287.\n\nMelanippides, xii, 1, 21.\n\nMelesagoras, ix, 58.\n\nMemnon, 64 f.\n\nMenelaos (translation of), 55 f.; iv, 2; ii, 21.\n\nMenestheus, iv, 100.\n\nMental diseases, origin and cure of, 286 f.; ix, 19, 81.\n\nMetal, noise of, drives away ghosts, i, 72; ix, 83; see _Iron_,\n_Bronze_.\n\nMetamorphoses, iii, 3; x, 82.\n\n~metempsu/ch\u00f4sis~, x, 84; see _Transmigration_.\n\nMetrodoros, allegorical interpretation of mythology, vi, 23.\n\nMetrodoros (Epicurean), xiv, 85, 86, 97.\n\n~m\u00ea\\ phu=nai~, xii, 10.\n\n~m\u00ea/nima the\u00f4=n~, v, 148; ~alit\u00eari/\u00f4n~, v, 176.\n\n~mi/asma~, v, 176; 295 f.\n\n~mia/st\u00f4r~, v, 178.\n\nMichael, the Archangel, iv, 96.\n\nMidas, 412.\n\nMid-day, spectres appearing at, ix, 96; xiv, ii, 41; 592 f.\n\nMigrations, Greek, 27, 155, 161, 284.\n\nMilky Way (abode of the souls), ix, 111; xii, 44.\n\nMiltiades, as Hero, iv, 20.\n\nMimnermos, xii, 7.\n\nMind, 5, 29 f., 383, 387, 493 f.\n\nMingrelians, i, 30.\n\nMinos (and Zeus, in Crete), 96; Judge in Hades, vii, 13.\n\n_Minyas_, **vii, 3; 237, 238, 282.\n\nMiracle, 254; xiv, ii, 40-1, 45, 70; 537; desire for in later ages\nof antiquity, 546 f.\n\nMissions, sent out from Eleusis, 161.\n\nMithras, Mysteries of, xiv, ii, 144, 153, 172, 174.\n\nMitylene, funeral ordinance of, v, 54.\n\nMitys, iv, 118.\n\n~mn\u00ea/m\u00ea~ (Empedokles and Pythagorean), xi, 96; and ~l\u00ea/th\u00ea~ in Hades\n(Pindar), xii, 37; xiv, ii, 151.\n\nMnemosyne, xii, 37; xiv, ii, 151.\n\n~moi=ra~, 29.\n\nMoon and stars inhabited by souls, x, 75; xi, 116; xiv, **53.\n\nMonism, 432; 500. {619}\n\nMopsos, iii, 5, 13; 133.\n\nMorality, 40; 228; 294 f.; 302; 376.\n\n~Mormolu/k\u00ea, Morm\u00f4/~, vii, 25; 592.\n\nMoschion, x, 54.\n\nMoses, ii, 18; xiv, ii, 109.\n\nMotes in the sunbeam = Souls (Pythagoras), xi, 40; Emped. **xi, 101.\n\nMountains, legends about, 263; viii, 68.\n\nMourning, period of, 167.\n\nMousaios, x, 70.\n\n~mu/chioi theoi/~, iii, 35.\n\n~muei=n~, vi, 16.\n\nMurderer, excluded from religious worship, vi, 17.\n\nMurder, action for, religious sense of, 180 f.; expiation of, 174\nf., 138; xii, 34, 40.\n\nMurder trials; see _Homicide_.\n\nMusic in Dionysiac worship, 257; as a cure for Korybantic frenzy and\nother diseases, 286 f.; ix, 19; xi, 48.\n\nMusonius, v, 34; 503.\n\n_Mutterrecht_, not Greek, xii, 75.\n\nMutilation of the dead, 582 f.\n\nMycenae, 22, 27, 122.\n\nMykonos (cult of Chthonic Zeus), v, 3, 7, 16.\n\nMyrtle sacred to ~chtho/nioi~, iv, 21; v, 40, 61.\n\nMysians, x, 78.\n\nMysteries: see _Eleusinian M._; Orphic, 343 f.; Samothracian, vi,\n34; (see also _Isis_ and _Mithras_).\n\nMysticism, 225 f., 254 f., 262, 291 f., 344; xiii, 75, 104; xiv, 1.\n\nMyth, allegorical interpretation of, vi, 23.\n\n\nName, calling the dead by, 42, 527; of Hero used in sacrificing, iv,\n62; in invocation of avenging spirits, 604.\n\nNameless Gods, iv, 62; Heroes, 126 f.; 529; xiv, ii, 61, 63.\n\nNamnites in Gaul, viii, 55.\n\nNarcissus (Orphic?), x, 29.\n\n~na/rth\u00eax~, viii, 22.\n\nNational Heroes: see ~arch\u00eagoi/~.\n\n\"Nature,\" religion of, 223 f.\n\nNaulochos (Hero), xiv, ii, 74.\n\nNectar, 58.\n\nnefasti dies, v, 158.\n\nNegro tribes, i, 34; v, 110; 271.\n\nNekyia of the Odyssey, 32 f.; iii, 8; 237 f.; 240 f.; 2nd Nekyia, i,\n62, 65; N. in other epics, 237 f., (see _Descents_); on vases, vii,\n27.\n\n~neku/sia~, v, 92.\n\nNemea, iv, 22.\n\n~neme/seia, ne/mesis, Ne/mesis~, **v, 91.\n\nNeoplatonic writers, x, 27, 29, 38; 596 f.\n\nNeoptolemos, translation of, xiv, ii, 99.\n\nNero, translated (Antichrist), xiv, ii, 113.\n\nNeurotic diseases, cure of, 286 f.\n\nNew Zealand (method of burial), v, 67.\n\nNightmare, ix, 102; xiv, ii, 86.\n\nNine, sanctity of number, v, 84; xiii, 45; xiv, ii, 154.\n\nNoise of bronze or iron drives away ghosts, i, 72; v, 167; ix, 83.\n\nNostoi, 66 f.\n\nNovel (Greek, etc.), iv, 134; xiv, ii, 87.\n\nNovemdialia: festival in Rome, v, 84.\n\n~nou=s~, in Anaxagoras, 387 f.; in Aristotle, 493 f.; cf. 383.\n\nNumbers (Pythagorean mystical theory of), x, 9.\n\nNyktelios, Nyktelia, viii, 28; 285; ix, 36.\n\n~numpho/l\u00eaptos~, ix, 63.\n\n~ek numph\u00f4=n ka/tochos~, ix, 58.\n\nNymphs, agents of Translation, xiv, ii, 105.\n\n\nOath, religio-juristic significance of, 41 f.; v, 156; 238; xi, 77;\nxii, 40.\n\nOath-breaking punished in Hades; see _Perjury_.\n\nOath taken by both parties in a suit, v, 156.\n\nObolos for the ferryman of the dead: see _Charon_.\n\nOcrisia, v, 132.\n\nOdyssey, 32 f., 55, 62 f., 236; 2nd Nekyia, i, 62, 65.\n\nOdysseus, end of, ii, 30; oracle of, iv, 97; as Hero, xiv, ii, 41;\nO. and Kalypso, xiv, ii, 105.\n\nOedipus, 430 f.; xii, 85, 112 f.\n\nOikistes, 127 f.\n\nOinomaos, iv, 2.\n\nOknos, 241.\n\nOlbia, xiv, ii, 102. {620}\n\nOlive, kathartic effects of, v, 36-7, 61; ix, 72.\n\nOlympos as dwelling-place of souls, xiv, ii, 135.\n\nOlympia, iv, 22, 62; 121, 160; v, 98.\n\n~\u00f4mothetei=n~, 584 f.\n\n~omphalo/s~ at Delphi, iii, 31.\n\nOnomakritos, 336-7, 338 f.; (the Lokrian), ix, 113.\n\nOracles of Heroes, 133 f.; of Earth, 160; see _Delphi_, _Dodona_,\n_Incubation_.\n\nOrators, Greek, 413.\n\nOrators' official speeches of consolation, xiv, ii, 6.\n\nOrestes, iv, 35; 178; 424, 426.\n\nOrgeones, 124.\n\nOrgiastic cults in Greece, ix, 56; in Thessaly and Phrygia, 257.\n\nOrient influenced by Greece, 539.\n\nOrigen, _c. Cels._, iii, **20; xiv, 33.\n\nOrion, 39; 58.\n\nOropos, 92; iii, 19, 56; xiv, ii, 104.\n\nOrpheus, ~kata/basis eis Ha/idou~, vii, 3, 27; x, 60; of Kamarina,\nx, 7; of Kroton, x, 7, 11.\n\nOrphics, v, 99; 124; vi, 13; vii, 15, 18; 335 f.; xii, 137; xiii,\n44; 70a; 586; alleged influence in Homer, x, 5.\n\nOrphic cult of Bakchos, x, 1; poetry, authorship of, x, 7;\nRhapsodical Theogony, ix, 123; 339-40; 596 f.; other Theogonies, x,\n21; origin of mankind in, 339 f.; x, 77; six Rulers of the world, x,\n40; Asceticism, 342 f.; kathartic doctrine, 338; ideas of Hades, 344\nf.; doctrine of rebirth and Transmigration of souls, 345 f.;\ngrave-tablets (Sicily), 417 f.; xiv, ii, 151; 598, 601; _Hymns_,\nxiv, ii, 173.\n\nOrphica (fr. 120). x, 22; (fr. 226), x, 48.\n\nOrphico-Pythagorean Hymnus on Number, x, 9.\n\n~Ortugi/\u00ea~, ii, 25.\n\nOs resectum of the Romans, i, 34.\n\n~ho/sioi~, the Pure, vi, 18; 343.\n\nOsiris, xiv, ii, 152.\n\nOstiaks, religious dances of the, viii, 55.\n\n~oxuthu/mia~, 216; ix, 88.\n\n~ouk \u00ea/m\u00ean, geno/m\u00ean ktl.~ on epitaphs, xiv, ii, 167.\n\nOuranos, x, 28.\n\n\nPaetus Thrasea, xiv, 64.\n\nPalamedes, xiv, ii, 41.\n\nPalaimon, iii, 38.\n\n~palamnai=os~, v, 178.\n\n~paliggenesi/a~, 224; vii, 21; x, 47, 81, 84; 519; xiv, **i, 68, 142;\n547.\n\nPan, ix, 56.\n\nPanaitios, xiv, 24; 501 f.\n\nPandaemonism, 519.\n\nPandareos, daughters of, ii, 5.\n\nPantheism, 261, 498 f.; xiv, 60; 504.\n\nPanchatantra, iv, 134.\n\nParadise, imaginary, in Hades, vii, 18.\n\n~paramuth\u00eatika\\ ps\u00eaphi/smata~, xiv, ii, 6.\n\nPardon for Homicide, v, 144, 151, 154.\n\nParentalia in Rome, v, 90.\n\nParmenides, 372; 408; 597.\n\nParsley used in cult of the dead, iv, 22; v, 40, 107.\n\nPasipha\u00eb, iv, 104.\n\n~pa/trai~, iv, 49; v, 131; in Rhodos, iv, 52.\n\nPatroklos, Funeral of, 12 f.; Translation of, xiv, ii, 102.\n\n~patromu/st\u00eas~, 602.\n\nPausanias, Spartan King, v, 173; Periegeta, 126; 529; (4, 32, 1)\n554; Doctor (pupil of Empedokles), 378; xi, 61.\n\nPehuenchen Indians (S. America), i, 26.\n\nPeiritho\u00f6s, vii, 3.\n\nPelasgians, v, 18.\n\nPeleus, Translation of, xiv, ii, 99.\n\nPellichos, xiv, ii, 45.\n\nPelops, 121; iv, 37.\n\nPenates, v, 132-3.\n\nPenitents undergoing punishment in Hades, 40 f., 238, 241; vii, 27.\n\nPentheus, 283.\n\n~peri/deipnon~, 167.\n\n~perika/tharma~, 589.\n\n~perima/ttein~, 590.\n\nPerjury punished in Hades, 41 f.; v, 156; 238; xi, 77; xii, 40.\n\nPeripatetics, 512.\n\n~perips\u00ea=n~, 589.\n\nPersephone, 158 f.; v, 5; 160 f.; 220; 222 f.; and see _Kor\u00e9_.\n\nPerseus and the Mainades, ix, 3.\n\nPersian War, Heroizing of those who fell in, 131.\n\nPersians, i, 5; 10; 22; v, 85-6; kathartic practice among, ix, 78.\n\nPersinos of Miletos, x, **7.\n\nPersius, i, 31; 504. {621}\n\nPersonality, reduplication of, 595 f.; cf. ~e/kstasis~.\n\nPeru, religious dances in, viii, 55.\n\nPessimism, 412, 545.\n\nPetelia, grave tablet from, 417 f., 601 f., 598.\n\nPhaeacians, 63; ii, 17, 46.\n\nPha\u00ebnnis, ix, 59.\n\nPha\u00ebthon, iii, 35.\n\nPhanes, x, 9; 598.\n\nPharisees, xi, 50.\n\n~pharmakoi/~, ix, 87; 589 f.\n\n~pha/smata Hekatika/~, 590 f.\n\nPherekrates, comic poet, vii, 17.\n\nPherekydes, 301; x, 79; xi, 51; vi, 25; 597.\n\nPhilippos of Opos, author of _Epinomis_, xiv, 1.\n\nPhiliskos, xii, 157.\n\nPhilo Judaeus, xiv, ii, 117; (ap. Gal. xiii, 268), iii, 43.\n\nPhilodamos of Skarpheia, his Hymn to Dionysos, vi, 9.\n\nPhilolaos, x, 44; xi, 35-6, 50, 55.\n\nPhilopoimen, as Hero, xiv, ii, 49.\n\nPhilopregmon (Hero), 529.\n\nPhilosophy, 362 f.; 432 f.; 463 f.; 490 f.\n\nPhilostratos, _Heroikos_, xiv, ii, 41; _V. Apoll._, xiv, ii, 115.\n\n~phimou=n, phim\u00f4tiko/n~, 604.\n\nPhokion, v, 66.\n\nPseudo-Phokylides, xiv, ii, 117.\n\nPhormion, of Sparta, ix, 111.\n\nPhratriai in Athens, 124 f.\n\nPhrygians, v, 167; 257; viii, 52; 286; xiv, ii, 13, 174.\n\nPhylai in Athens, 124 f.\n\nPig, in cult of the dead, v, 105.\n\nPitch, kathartic property of, v, 95; ix, 72.\n\nPiety of the Greeks, 28 f.\n\nPiety towards the dead, 16, 164, 169.\n\nPindar, 7, 115, 157; vi, 22; 238; 412; 414 f.; (_O._ 2, 57), xii,\n35; (_O._ 2, 61), xii, 38; (_P._ 8, 57), iv, 105; (_fr._ 129-30),\nxii, 37; (_fr._ 132), xii, 45; (_fr._ 133), xii, 34, 41.\n\n~pi/thos tetr\u00eame/nos~ in Hades, 586 f.\n\nPittakos of Mitylene, v, 54.\n\nPixodaros (Hero), xiv, ii, 63.\n\nPlato, ix, 107; 383; xi, 96; 463 f.; xiv, ii, 108; 547; Beauty in\n473; influence of, on popular belief, xiv, ii, 143; doctrine of\nIdeas, 470 f.; different strata of the _Republic_, xiii, 8; 474;\n_Laws_, xiii, 36, 37; 476; _Gorgias_, vii, 13; xiii, 36, 96; _Meno_,\nxiii, 100; _Phaedo_, xiii, 36; 468 f.\n\nPlants with souls, xi, 72, 82; 382; xi, 117; xiii, 40.\n\n~hoi plei/ous~, the dead, xiv, ii, 124.\n\nPlotinos, 547 f.\n\nPlouton, iii, 34; 160.\n\n~plout\u00f4/nia~, v, 23.\n\nPlutarch, v, 34; vi, 23; vii, 1; xiv, ii, 85, 87.\n\nPluto, iii, 34; 160.\n\n~pneu=ma~ = soul, **xii, 150; 498; 541 f.\n\nPodaleirios, iii, 13; 133.\n\n~poin\u00ea/~ for homicide, in Homer, 175; forbidden, v, 154; and see\n_Murder_.\n\nPolemon, xiv, 1.\n\nPolemokrates (Hero), iv, 93.\n\nPolitics, Epicurean withdrawal from, 506 f.\n\nPollution, 294 f.\n\n~polua/ndrioi dai/mones~, 604.\n\nPolyaratos, ix, 111.\n\nPolybios, 492.\n\nPolyboia, 100.\n\nPolygnotos' picture of Hades, 241 f.; 586.\n\nPolynesians, v, 161.\n\nPomegranate in the cult of the dead, v, 105.\n\nPomptilla, grave in Sardinia, xiv, ii, 71.\n\nPoplar in the cult of the dead, v, 61; xiv, ii, 102.\n\nPopular belief about the dead, 524.\n\nPopular version of \"Translation\", xiv, ii, 105.\n\nPoseidonios, x, 78; xi, 35, 55; xiv, 40, 44, 51, 53-4; 502; xiv,\n60-2.\n\nPossession, 255; 595; see ~e/kstasis~.\n\nPossessions of the dead burnt with the body, i, 30, 51.\n\nPostponement of coming events by the gods, ix, 120.\n\nPoulytion, 222.\n\nPraetextatus, xiv, ii, 172.\n\nPraise of the dead at the ~peri/deipnon~, v, 81.\n\nPre-existence: see _Soul_.\n\nProphecy by Incubation (dream-oracles), 92 f., 289 f.; by Heroes,\n133; in Thracian worship of Dionysos, 260; two kinds of (~technik\u00ea/~\nand ~a/technos~), 289; by \"inspiration\", 289 f.; at Delphi, 289 f.;\nin Greek {622} worship of D., 289 f.; wandering prophets, 292 f.; by\nmeans of lots at Delphi, 289; in Leuke, xiv, ii, 102.\n\nProdikos of Keos, vi, 23; of Phokaia, vii, 3; of Samos, vii, 3; x,\n7.\n\nPro\u00ebrosia, ix, 108.\n\nProitides, 282, 287.\n\nProklidai, iv, 53.\n\nProphecy: see _Mantik\u00e9_.\n\nProphetic power of the dying, i, 69.\n\n~prospha/gion~, v, 46.\n\n~prostro/paios~, v, 148, 176.\n\nProtagoras, 438.\n\nProtesilaos, iv, 98.\n\nProteus in the Odyssey, 55.\n\n~pro/thesis~ of the corpse, 164 (v, 41 f.).\n\nProverbs, Greek, v, 120; xii, 3; 586.\n\nPrussia, cult of the dead in, v, 99, 114.\n\n~psuch\u00ea/~ in Homer, 4 f.; 30 f.; 364 f.; = alter ego, 6; in Pindar,\nxii, 32; in Philosophy, 364 f.; situated in eye or mouth, i, 25; =\nLife, i, 59; xi, 1.\n\n~psuchag\u00f4go/s~, ix, 106.\n\nPsyche (of Apuleius), xiv, ii, 151.\n\nPsychology, Homeric, 30 f.; of the philosophers, 364 f.\n\n~psuchomantei=a~, v, 23.\n\n~psuchpompei=a~, v, 23.\n\n~psuchostasi/a~, v, 100.\n\nPunishment of guilty through descendants, xii, 7, 65; xiv, ii, 96.\n\nPurification: see _Kathartic_, ~ka/tharsis~; after a funeral, v, 77;\n[after seeing a corpse: Jul., _Ep._ 77, p. 601, 20 f. H.]; carried\nout by ~ex\u00eag\u00eatai/~, v, 139; of murderers, 179 f.; 295; (this not\nHomeric), v, 166; ritual, in daily life, 295; of the new-born, ib.;\nby blood, 296; by fire, 21; by running water, 588 f.; removal of the\npolluting substance with figs or eggs, 589 f.\n\n\"Pure, the,\" vi, 18; 343.\n\nPurgation in Plato, xiii, 36.\n\nPurple (Red) colour proper to the dead, v, 61.\n\nPythagoras, 374 f.; xii, 150; and Zalmoxis, viii, 68; and Abaris,\nix, 108, 122; his previous births, 598 f.; descent to Hades, 600 f.\n\nPythagoreans, suicide, v, 33; bury the body on leaves, v, 61; and\nOrphics in Herodotos, 336; x, 8; in Athens, 337; psychology, xi, 55;\nTransmigration-doctrine, x, 79, 81; xi, 42; xiii, 40; ~psuch\u00ea/~\n(Alkmaion), xi, 28, 35; and Parmenides, xi, 30; Empedokles and P.\n~ana/mn\u00easis~, xi, 96; ~U~ Pythag., xii, 62; and Plato (divisions of\nthe soul), xiii, 27; (transmigration of the soul), xiii, 40; and the\nStoics (souls in the air), xiv, 53.\n\nPythia, viii, 52-3; ix, 45; 289 f.; 596.\n\nPythian Games, iv, 22.\n\nPython, 97; 180 f.\n\n\nQuietism, 380.\n\n\nRam, in cult of the dead, v, 105, 107; as expiatory sacrifice, v,\n167.\n\nRationalism among the Greeks, 29 f.; 122; 492; 545.\n\nRebirth (see ~paliggenesi/a~), xiv, ii, 174; 602.\n\nRecurrence, periodical, of everything, x, 47; xiv, 68.\n\nRed colour belonging to the dead, v, 61.\n\nReduplication of Personality, 595 f.\n\nRegilla, wife of Herodes Atticus, xiv, ii, 71, 131.\n\nRelatives obliged to prosecute vendetta, v, 141.\n\n\"Release\" of man from fate, etc., 342 f.; xi, 50; 384.\n\nReligion, Homeric, 28 f.; of \"Nature\" 223 f.; Symbolic, ib.\n\nRelics, cult of, iv, 2; 121 f.; 529.\n\nResponsibility, moral, in Tragedy (Aesch.), 423 f.\n\nResurrection of the body, xiv, ii, 174.\n\nRevenge and Vendetta, circle of those expected to carry it out (in\nHomer), v, 141; Vend. bought off (in Homer), v, 143; this later\nforbidden, v, 154; Vend. in Tragedy, 424 f., 434.\n\nRewards and punishments transmitted to descendants, xii, 65 (x, 47);\nexact equivalence, x, 71; xi, 44; in Hades, 40-1; 239 f.; 467 f.;\n536.\n\nRight and left, significance of, in Hades, xii, 62.\n\nRhadamanthys, 55 f.; ii, 17, 23; 247; xiv, ii, 132.\n\n~rha/mnos~, kathartic uses of, v, 95; xi, 85.\n\nRhea: see _Kybele._\n\nRhesos, iv, 36; 557. {623}\n\nRock graves, v, 62, 66.\n\nRome, _genius_, i, 5; v, 132; marriage ceremonies, v, 95; Lares, v,\n66, 132; Lemuria, v, 99; Manes, ib.; v, 133; Novemdialia, v, 83-4;\nos resectum, i, 34; Parentalia, v, 90; Penates, v, 132-3; Cult of\nSouls in, v, 114; Cremation, i, 37, 39.\n\nRomans, admitted to Eleusinian Mysteries, 226.\n\nRomulus, translation of, xiv, ii, 103, 107, 110.\n\n\nSabazios (Sabos), viii, 10.\n\n~sa/bos, saba/zios~, viii, 32.\n\n~Saba/zia~ in Athens, x, 12.\n\nSabazios Mysteries (late, xiv, ii, 174.\n\nSacrifice at graves, 167, 169; made to Heroes before gods, iii, 46;\nkathartic, 585.\n\nSalamis, 136 f.\n\nSalmoneus, 581.\n\nSamothrace, Mysteries of, vi, 34.\n\nSappho, xii, 12\n\nSarpedon, ii, 28; iv, 99.\n\nSatrai, viii, 53.\n\nScapegoat, ix, 87.\n\nSchelling, 223.\n\nScheri\u00ea, ii, 46.\n\nSchol. Aristoph. _Vesp._ 1038, ix, 102.\n\nScythians, 259; ix, 15; x, 78.\n\nSecond sight, 260; 293 (see ~e/kstasis~).\n\nSecond-sight of the dying, i, 69.\n\nSecret cults, 219.\n\nSects, Orphic, 335.\n\nSeers, ecstatic: see ~ma/nteis~ and _Prophecy_.\n\nSeirenes, ix, **102; 593.\n\n~se/linon~ sacred to the dead, v, 40, 107.\n\n~Se/lloi~, iii, 14.\n\nSemele, 581.\n\nSeminoles of Florida, i, 25.\n\nSemitic influence on Greeks, 60; 96.\n\nSemonides (Simonides of Amorgos), xii, 4, 8, 15.\n\nSeneca, xiv, 41, 56, 68; 503.\n\nSertorius, his search for the Islands of the Blest, xiv, ii, 101.\n\nSeverus Alexander, xiv, ii, 112.\n\nServius ad. _Aen._ vi, 324 (Poeta Anon.), xi, 77.\n\nSex, changes of, in legend, iii, 3.\n\nShamans, viii, 43; 262.\n\nSheep (or Ram), v, 105, 107, 167.\n\nSibyls, viii, 52; 292 f.; 596.\n\nSicily, xii, 47; 417 f.\n\nSikyon (limitation on the length of epitaphs), xiv, ii, 118.\n\nSilenus, legend of, xii, 10 (viii, 15, 31).\n\nSilence in passing graves, v, 110.\n\nSimonides of Keos, xii, 1, 3, 11.\n\nSin, 294 f., 343, 381, (Plato) 466; consciousness of, 242.\n\nSisyphos, i, 82; 241; vii, 27.\n\nSit tibi terra levis, xiv, ii, 120.\n\nSithon, iii, 3.\n\nSitting (not reclining) at feasts in honour of the dead, v, 86.\n\nSkedasos, daughters of, xiv, ii, 35.\n\nSkeletons, the dead as, xiv, ii, 92.\n\n~ski/lla~, kathartic property of, ix, 115; xi, 85; 589 f.\n\nSkiron, v, 168.\n\nSkotos, vii, 6.\n\nSkylla (daughter of Hekate), 593.\n\nSlaves admitted to initiation at the Mysteries, vi, 14; when freed,\nbound to keep up the cult of their dead master, v, 128.\n\nSlavonic cult of souls, v, 161.\n\nSleep and Death, ii, 28; Death only Sleep, xiv, ii, 140; of the\nGods, iii, 30; \"Temple-sleep\": see _Incubation_.\n\nSnakes, form in which ~chtho/nioi~ appear, iii, 12, 33; 98; iii, 55;\niv, 129; v, 105**, 113, 133, 168; 602.\n\nSocieties: see Associations.\n\nSokrates, 463.\n\nSolon, date of archonship, ix, **120; as Hero, iv, 38; limits funeral\npomp, 4, 45, 57, 75; protects the memory of the dead, v, 115; his\nview of life, xii, 6; and Croesus, xiv, ii, 170.\n\nSorcery: see _Magic_ and _Conjuration of the dead_.\n\nSortilege, oracle of at Delphi, 290.\n\nSoul = breath (~pneu=ma~), 500 f.; xiv, ii, 138; represented on\nlekythoi as winged, 170; Pre-existence of, taught by Pythagoras, xi,\n49; by Plato, 465 f.; Aristotle, 495 f.; Stoics, xiv, 60; by Jews\nunder Greek influence, xiv, ii, 117; Soul and Mind, in Aristotle,\n496; \"Poor Souls,\" v, 114; x, 66; Souls **become daimones (Hesiod),\n67 f.; transition from Soul to daimon, v, 133, 148; 179; v, 176;\nassist growth of crops, v, 120; called upon {624} at marriages, v,\n121; appearances after death, ix, 105; 533 f.; xiv, ii, 154;\ndissipated by wind after leaving the body, xiii, 5; xi, 102; xiv,\n49, 77; of murdered men, 181 f.; kingdom of Souls in the air, in the\nAether or in Heaven, 342; xi, 35; 436 f.; Stoic, 500 f.; 541 f.; cf.\n_Hades_; in popular belief, xiv, ii, 142; in Neoplatonism, 547;\nparts of the soul, acc. to Pythagoras, xi, 55; Plato, 466 f.;\nPeripatetics, 512; Stoics, xiv, 60; Epicureans, 505; conjuration of\nsouls not known in Homer, 24; later, v, 23; ix, 106; xiv, ii, 87,\n90; on Defixions, 594 f., 604 f.; Souls, Cult of, after burial, 22\nf., 77 f., 158 f., 163 f., 166 f., 181 f., 253 f.; Rudiments of, in\nHomer, 12 f.; in the family, 172 f.; represented on sepulchral\nreliefs, v, 105; Souls, Festival of, 168; in cult of Dionysos, ix,\n11; Soul, \"Salvation\" of the, 172.\n\nSouls: Transmigration of Souls--Greek names for, x, 84; Thracian\nbelief in, 263 f.; Egyptian belief in, 346; Orphic, 337; 342 f.; 346\nf.; Pythagorean, 375; xi, 50, 55; in Pindar, 415 f.; Empedokles, xi,\n75, 96; Plato, 467; Stoics (Poseidonios?), xiv, 60.\n\n~s\u00f4=ma--s\u00ea=ma~: Orphic, 342; x, 73; Pythagoras, 375; xi, 50;\nEmpedokles, xi, 75; Euripides, xii, 137; Plato, xiii, 44; in popular\nbelief, xiv, ii, 141.\n\n_Somnium Scipionis_, xiv, 53, 54, 62; xiv, ii, 58.\n\nSophists, 432.\n\nSophokles, vi, 22, 26; 426 f.; as Hero, iv, 71; _Oed. Col._ 1583,\nxii, 112.\n\n~s\u00f4t\u00ea/r (h\u00ea/r\u00f4s)~, xii, 128.\n\nSparta; funeral of kings, iv, 46; burial customs, v, 61; reliefs\nrepresenting feasts of the dead, v, 105, 86; criminal law of, v,\n145.\n\nSpeaking ill of the dead forbidden, v, 115.\n\nSpell: see _Magic_.\n\nSpencer, Herbert, 6.\n\nSpielhansel, folk-tale of, i, 82.\n\nSpiritualism, 264 f.; 385; 500; 595.\n\nSpirits: see _Ghosts_.\n\nSpirits, island of (Leuke), xiv, ii, 102; nocturnal battle of, xiv,\nii, 37; magical compulsion of, ix, 107.\n\nSpitting, apotropaic effect of, 586.\n\nStars inhabited, xi, 116; by the souls of the departed, x, 75-6;\nmyths, 58.\n\nState: see _Politics_; State Funerals, xiv, ii, 5-6.\n\nStatues of Heroes, miracles performed by, 136.\n\n~ste/phanos~, iv, 21.\n\nStertinius, C. Xenophon (Hero), xiv, ii, 64.\n\nStobaeus, _Ecl._ i, 49, 46; xiv, ii, 138.\n\nStoics, xi, 98; xii, 67; 497 f.; 542.\n\nStones (a soul attributed to), xi, 72.\n\nStormclouds, shooting at, viii, 63; cf. _Weather-magicians_.\n\nStraton, xii, 150; xiv, 34.\n\nStriking the ground in calling on ~chtho/nioi~, iii, 10.\n\nStyx, vii, 21.\n\nSubterranean translation among the Greeks, 89 f.; xiv, ii, 104; in\nGermany, 93; in Mexico and in the East, iii, 17.\n\nS\u00fbfis of Persia, viii, 60; 266.\n\nSuicide forbidden (Orphic), x, 44; suicides refused burial, v, 33.\n\nSuidas on ~emaschali/sth\u00ea~, 582 f.\n\nSulphur, kathartic property of, v, 95.\n\nSwoon (~piopsuchi/a~), i, 9.\n\nSyrians, xiv, ii, 174.\n\nSybaris (Lamia), iv, 115; Orphic gold tablets from, 417 f.; 598; 601.\n\nSymbolism in religion, 224, 226 f.\n\nSymmachos, xiv, ii, 172.\n\nSyncretism, 288; 534.\n\nSyrianos, 596 f.\n\nSyrie, 62 f.\n\n\nTacitus, xiv, 47.\n\nTahiti, funeral dirges of, v, 48.\n\nTalthybios, 134.\n\nTantalos, 40 f., 241; vii, 27.\n\nTarantism, ix, 19.\n\nTaraxippos (Hero), 127.\n\nTarentum, v, 68.\n\nTartaros, 76; vii, 6; 340; xi, 38.\n\nTasmania, cult of dead in, 585.\n\n~Tau=ta, tosau=ta~ in epitaphs, xiv, ii, 167.\n\nTeiresias, 36 f., 41; iii, 3, 8.\n\n_Telegoneia_, 65, 90.\n\nTeleology in Anaxagoras, xi, 104.\n\nTellos the Athenian, xiv, ii, 170.\n\nTemesa, the Hero of, 135 f. {625}\n\nTemple-sleep: see _Incubation._\n\nTenes, iv, 138.\n\nTerizoi in Thrace, **viii, 65.\n\nThales, vi, 25; 366.\n\nThamyris, 238.\n\nThanatos, xii, 4, 121; and Hypnos, ii, 28.\n\nThargelia, ix, 87.\n\nTheagenes (Hero), 136; iv, 119, 134.\n\n_Thebais_, 75, 90, 93.\n\n~thei=os an\u00ea/r~, xiii, 68.\n\nThemistokles as Hero, iv, 30.\n\nTheognetos (Orphic), x, **7; 597.\n\nTheognis, 411 f.; xii, 13.\n\nTheogony of Epimenides, ix, 123; of Hesiod, x, 5; Orphic, 339 f.;\n596.\n\nTheokrasia, x, 24.\n\nTheology, Homeric, 25 f., 31 f.; of the court in Hellenistic period,\n538 (see _Orphics_).\n\nTheophanes (Hero), xiv, ii, 64.\n\nTheophrastos, xiv, 34; Testament of, v, 137.\n\nTheopompos, on Abaris, ix, 108; Aristeas, ix, 109; Bakis, ix, 66;\nEpimenides, ix, 117; Hermotimos, ix, 112; Phormion, ix, 111.\n\n~ho theo/s, h\u00ea thea/~ at Eleusis, v, 19.\n\nTheosophy (Orphic), 336.\n\nTheoxenia, 96; iv, 16, 71; festival at Delphi, iv, 82.\n\nTheron, 416.\n\nTheseus, transfer of his bones to Athens, 122; expiation of murder\nof Skiron, v, 168; Descent to Hades, vii, 3.\n\nThesmophoria, 222.\n\n~thi/asos~, Dionysiac, Thracian, viii, 31.\n\n30,000 = innumerable, xi, 78.\n\n~tho/loi~, iii, 31.\n\nThorn: see _White-thorn_.\n\nThracians, viii, 11; cult of Dionysos, 256 f.; belief in\nimmortality, 263 f.; in Transmigration, 263 f.; Ascetic practices,\nx, 78.\n\nThrasea Paetus, xiv, 64.\n\n~thro/non str\u00f4nnu/nai~ for a god, iii, 26.\n\n~thro/n\u00f4sis~ (of mystai), ix, 19.\n\nThunder clouds driven away by noise, etc., viii, 63.\n\n~thu/ein~, iv, 15.\n\nThyme used in burial, v, 36.\n\n~thumo/s~ and ~psuch\u00ea/~, i, 58; xi, 1.\n\nThyrsos, viii, 22.\n\nTii of Polynesia, v, 161.\n\nTimokles of Syracuse, x, 7.\n\nTimoleon as Hero, xiv, ii, 59.\n\nTitans (Orphic), 340 f.; x, 77 (cf. p. 76).\n\nTithonos, 58.\n\nTityos, 40 f.\n\nTragedy, Greek, 421 f.\n\n~Tra/leis~, Thracian tribe of mercenaries, viii, 77.\n\nTralles in Karia, criminal law of, v, 150.\n\n_Translation_, in Homer, 55 f.; subterranean, 89 f.; in Pindar, 414;\nin Euripides, xii, 127; Semitic, 60; xiv, ii, 109; German, 93;\nItalian, xiv, ii, 110; Tr. to Islands of the Blest, xiv, ii, 99; to\nthe Nymphs, xiv, ii, 105; into a river, xiv, ii, 114; by lightning,\n583; Tr. of Achilles, 64 f.; Alkmene, xiv, ii, 99; Althaimenes, iii,\n4; Amphiaraos, 89 f.; Amphilochos, iii, 5; Antinous, xiv, ii, 114;\nApollonios of Tyana, xiv, ii, 116; Aristaios, iii, 6; Aristeas (?),\nix, 109; Berenike, etc., xiv, ii, 107; Diomedes, 67; xiv, ii, 99;\nEmperors, xiv, ii, 107; Empedokles, xi, 61; Erechtheus, 98;\nEuthymos, 136; Hamilcar, xiv, ii, 109; Helen, ii, 21; Herakleid.\nPont., xi, 61; Iphigeneia, ii, 26; Kleomedes, 129; Laodike, iii, 6;\nMemnon, 64; Menelaos, 55; ii, 21; Oedipus, xii, 112; Phaethon, iii,\n35; Rhadamanthys, ii, 17; Telegonos and Penelope, 65; Trophonios,\n90; Tr. no longer understood in later ages, xiv, ii, 103; effected\nmechanically, xiv, ii, 106.\n\nTrausians, viii, 75.\n\nTrees planted round graves, i, 28; v, 73; sacred to the\n~chtho/nioi~, v, 61.\n\n~Triaka/des~, v, 86 f.; xiv, ii, 17.\n\nTrieteric festival of Dionysos, 258, 285.\n\nTriopion, ancient Greek cult there, ix, 89.\n\nTriphylians, v, 11.\n\nTriptolemos, i, 41; 220; vi, 35; as Judge in Hades, vii, 14.\n\n~tri/ta~ (sacrifice to the dead), v, 83.\n\n~tritopa/tores~, v, 123 f.; x, 45.\n\nTrophonios, 90 f., 101, 121, 159, 161; v, 133; viii, 68; xiv, ii,\n104; _Zeus_ Troph., iii, 18.\n\nTrojan Heroes, xiv, ii, 41.\n\nTronis in Phokis, iv, 34. {626}\n\nTurning one's back on spirits: see _Avoiding_, etc.\n\nTurnus, translation of, xiv, ii, 110.\n\n~tumb\u00f4ru/chos~, xiv, ii, 11.\n\nTwelve **Tables influenced by Solon, v, 47.\n\nTyphon, vii, 6.\n\nTyrtaios, xii, 13.\n\n\nUnderworld, pictures of on vases, vii, 27; Polygnotos' picture of,\n241 f., 586 f.\n\nUnknown gods, iv, 62; Heroes, 127.\n\nUnlucky days, v, 158.\n\nUtopia in Hades, vii, 18.\n\n\nVampyre, v, 161; xiv, ii, 86.\n\nVapour-baths used by Scythians and Indians to produce religious\nintoxication, viii, 39.\n\nVarro, i, 21, 34; iii, 31; vi, 23; ix, 111.\n\nVendetta: see _Revenge_.\n\nVenus, conductress of souls, xiv, ii, 146.\n\nVergil, i, 37; vii, 6; xi, 50; xii, 62; 535.\n\nVibia, tomb of, xiv, ii, 144, 174.\n\nVine, cultivation of in Thrace, viii, 38; branches used in burial,\nv, 37.\n\nVirbius, legend of, iv, 38.\n\nVisions, 30 f., 258 f. (and see ~e/kstasis~).\n\nVisits of Gods to men, ii, 38 (iv, 134).\n\nVoodoo, Negro sect in Haiti, viii, 55.\n\n\nWanderings: see _Migration_.\n\nWater polluted by the neighbourhood of a corpse, v, 38; ix, 76;\nflowing, kathartic properties of, 588 f.; cold water in the lower\nworld, xiv, ii, 151; of Life in folk-lore, ib.; speaking, ib.\n\nWays, Two, Three, in the lower world, xii, 62.\n\nWeather-magicians, viii, 63; ix, 107.\n\nWeregild, 175 f.; forbidden, v, 154.\n\nWill, freedom of, 423 f.; 498 f.\n\nWind = Soul, xiii, 5; Spirits of, v, 124; Bride of, ii, 7.\n\nWine, belongs to later Dionysos, viii, 3.\n\nWisdom of Solomon, xiv, ii, 117.\n\nWhite-thorn, v, 95.\n\nWitches, etc. (see also _Hekate_), ix, 101.\n\nWorks of \"supererogation\" assist others, x, 66.\n\nWorld, different Ages of, in Hesiod, 67 f.\n\nWorld, withdrawal from, in later Greek life, 546 f.; enjoyment of,\nin early period, **3, 63; xiv, ii, 170; hatred of, Christian-Gnostic,\nxiv, ii, 179; periods of (Orphic), 342.\n\nWolf-shape, of spirits, iv, 114; 590.\n\nWool, kathartic properties of, 590.\n\n\n~xenikoi\\ theoi/~, x, 3.\n\nXenokrates, vi, 35; x, 39; xiv, 1.\n\nXenophanes, 371 f.; xi, 42; xii, 150; xiv, 53.\n\nXenophon C. Stertinius (Hero), xiv, ii, 64.\n\n\nYama, Indian god of the lower world, vii, 6.\n\nYogis of India, viii, 43.\n\n\nZagreus, 340 f.; viii, 28; x, 9, 12, 77; 598.\n\nZaleukos, v, 145.\n\nZalmoxis, iii, 13; viii, 10, 28; 263.\n\nZeno (Eleatic), 372 f.\n\nZeno (Stoic), xiv, 43.\n\nZeus in Crete, 97 f., 161; ix, 56; and Alkmene, iv, 134; as\nconductor of Souls, xiv, ii, 146.\n\n~Zeu\\s Amphia/raos~, iii, 19; ~chtho/nios~, 159; v, 167; 220;\n~Eubouleu/s, Bouleu/s~, v, 7, 19; ~Lu/kaios~, v, 170; ~meili/chios~,\nv, 168; ~prostro/paios~, v, 148; ~phi/lios~, ii, 38; ~Saba/zios~,\nviii, 10; ~Troph\u00f4/nios~, iii, 18.]\n\nZopyros, x, 7, 11.\n\nZoroastrianism, 302.\n\n\n* * * * *\n\n\nTranscriber's Notes\n\nPage numbers are written in {}, {{}} when not printed in the text\nbut referred to in the Table of Contents, etc.\n\nFootnote markers and footnotes are numbered [m\\n] where m is the\nnumber of the footnote, n is the number of the chapter (chapter 14\nPart 2 is here numbered 15).\n\nTranscribed Greek text is placed within ~~. Accents are marked / for\nacute, \\ for grave, = for circumflex; | indicates iota subscript.\nRough breathings are written h; smooth breathings are omitted. A few\nGreek words use digamma, transcribed w.\n\nDeliberate changes from the text of the English translation are\nmarked by ** and listed below. Most changes in foreign language\nquotations are based on comparison with the original German version\nand, where possible, other online versions such as at the Perseus\nProject. This transcription indicates emphasis in Greek and Latin\ntexts by the sign for italics _ _; in general the English translation\ndid not mark them.\n\nLocation Original text Emendation in this version\n\nTrans. note Gp. _Gp._\n Reinisches Rheinisches\nch 1 n. 1 omitted ) at end of sentence\n n. 16 pota/m\u00f4| potam\u00f4=|\n n. 30 Langl\u00e9s Langl\u00e8s\nch 2 p. 62 conquerers conquerors\n p. 65 Telegonos Telemachos\n p. 66 immortality mortality\n n. 6 aphipol\u00f4=n amphipol\u00f4=n\nch 3 p. 88 naivity naivety\n p. 93 the word 'cult' was put at the beginning of a line\n instead of at the end\n p. 94 soares soars\n n. 2 Th\u00eab\u00ea|si Th\u00ea/b\u00ea|si\nch 4 n. 4 Plata\u00ef/da Platai\u00ef/da\n n. 22 FHG. _FHG._\n n. 38 26, p. 70 16, p. 170\n n. 62 Her\u00f6on Hero\u00f6n\n n. 93 Her\u00f6on Hero\u00f6n\n n. 135 omits second t\u00ea=|si\nch 5 p. 163 witholder withholder\n p. 164 forebade forbade\n p. 166 con-considered considered\n n. 7 Eiboulos Euboulos\n n. 23 katagei=on kata/geion\n n. 37 Friedrich Fredrich\n n. 47 eiusdem eisdem\n n. 58 Char. is not in italics\n n. 67 565 465\n n. 74 ga/nos . . . . . . ga/nos\n n. 81 The Greek text le/gein epide/xia epi\\\n tethn\u00eako/ti was omitted in the English translation\n n. 83 quam qua\n n. 95 toi=s tai=s\n n. 103 Bendorf Benndorf\n n. 116/120 488 485\n n. 133 oiki/\u00f4n oiki\u00f4=n\n n. 143 poin\u00ea\\n is omitted\n n. 145 katakan\u00f4/n katakan\u00f4\\n\n n. 146 anepsi\u00f4/n anepsiad\u00f4/n (v. n. 10\\15)\n n. 174 Lex. _Lex._\n n. 178 tou=to is omitted\nch 6 n. 20 apedei/knue epedei/knue\n n. 24 muthologei=to muthologei=tai\nch 7 n. 12 sorbitionis sorbitione\n n. 25 : (\nch 8 p. 266 ecstacy ecstasy\n n. 10 d. griech. d. Gesch. d. griech.\n n. 27 p\u00eada= p\u00eada=|\n n. 28 perserved preserved\n n. 35 archibucolos archibucolus\n n. 68 poverty-striken poverty-stricken\n n. 70 to/de ta/de\n n. 76 eudaimoni/a| eudaimoni/\u00ea|\n n. 77 t\u00ea=n t\u00ea\\n\nch 9 p. 285 solemized solemnized\n p. 287 multitide multitude 1\n n. 26 asphaltos a/sphaltos\n n. 46 concitebat concitabat\n n. 47 autou= auto\\\n n. 54 eschu/ei ischu/ei\n n. 58 Puthi/as Puthia/s\n n. 68 401-819 401, 819\n n. 109 ecstacy ecstasy\nch 10 n. 3 collegiun collegium\n n. 45 holou= ho/lou\n n. 47 apoka/tasis apokata/stasis.\n n. 80 Erla\u00fct. Erl\u00e4ut.\nch 11 p. 361 Erla\u00fct. Erl\u00e4ut.\n p. 387 Where-ever Wherever\n n. 1 ) omitted after 896\n n. 19 9, v, v, 9,\n n. 36 presented prevented\n n. 99 regraded regarded\n n. 119 Opusc. _Opusc._\nch 12 p. 416 subserviance subservience\n p. 423 envelopes envelops\n p. 424 Choephorai Choephoroi\n n. 88 hos\u00ea/ ho/s\u00ea\nch 13 n. 33 orginally originally\n n. 50 energe/tis euerge/tis\nch 14 p. 503 stubborness stubbornness\n n. 1 emanicipation emancipation\n n. 47 A A-C\n z\u00f4/\u00f4n z\u00f4/|\u00f4\n n. 53 callocant collocant\n n. 59 distruction destruction\nch 15 p. 544 unadultered unadulterated\n n. 96 descendents descendants\n n. 116 anthr\u00f4/pou anthr\u00f4/p\u00f4n\n thaumazome/nou thaumazome/no\n n. 174 genetives genitives\napp 2 p. 584 Tro\u00ef/l\u00f4| Tr\u00f4\u00ef/l\u00f4|\n p. 585 me/rous me/lous\napp 3 p. 588 a/mu\u00eatoi amu/\u00eatai\napp 5 p. 589 576-9 567-9\n of or\napp 6 p. 591 devils devil's\napp 7 p. 594 336 236\napp 10 p. 598 Emphorbos Euphorbos\n p. 599 ~ens\u00f4mat\u00f4/seis~ ~ens\u00f4mat\u00f4/sis~\nindex Aeneas 4 3\n Agrianios Boiotia Boeotia\n apoma/ttein 586 589\n apo/taphoi v, 88, 158 xiv, ii, 20\n a/taphoi 148 147\n Death 1 3\n Elijah i ii\n Euadne 581 582\n Fear xiv, xiv, ii,\n Gods ii i\n Goethe 13 64\n Hades 21 22\n hallucinations 362 262\n hedonism 1 3\n Hegesias 1 3\n Hydromantic Hydromantia\n Kaiadas ii v\n Kyffha\u00fcser Kyffh\u00e4user\n loutropho/rsi loutropho/roi\n Lucian xi ix\n megara 3 7\n Minyas viii vii\n Moon 52 53\n motes ix xi\n neme/seia iv v\n Origen 80 20\n paliggenesi/a ii i\n Persinos 8 7\n pneu=ma xi xii\n sereines 100 102\n snakes ; ,\n Solon 20 120\n soul becomes become\n Terizoi ix vii\n Theognetos 8 7\n Twelve Tabes Tables\n World 1 3","title":"Psyche: The Cult of Souls and Belief in Immortality among the Greeks","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":326520}