fA §mM\l UttmtJSiitg pibmg THE GIFT OF ..IiU...cuj;5Arii. lV^\Z\^ jttWt^ 3777 PUBLICATIONS OF THE TEMPLE COLLEGE, PHILADBEJPHIA SOME ASPECTS OF THE RELIGION OF SOPHOKLES NICHOLAS P. VLACHOS, Ph.D. Professor of Ch'eek at the Temple Gotlege [Bepriu«ed from the HEfoIiMDfa Chukch Review, Vol. X., No. 2, April, 1906.] h f^' ^•ZP\\^\2> III. SOME ASPECTS OF THE EELIGION OE SOPHOKLES. N. p. VI.ACHOS, PH.D. The reaewed aetiyity that of late has manifested itself in the study of Greek religion has not equally extended over all its provinces. It is the older strata of Greek religion — prim- itive religious conceptions and archaic rites, that now mainly claim the attention of scholars; the Greek authors are prin- cipally studied as antiquarian depositories. But the indi- vidual religious beliefs of the gi-eat Greek poets receive but scant attention ; and this in spite of the generally acknowledged fact that many of the great poets were the exponents and repre- sentatives of their national faith in its highest form of de- velopment and constituted a sort of religious prophetism among their people. The reason for this comparative neglect is, how- ever, fairly obvious. Our evidence for popular beliefs and superstitions is constantly being added to ; researches in other than purely " classical " fields, especially the labors of anthro- pologists have totally changed the aspect of Greek religion. But our evidence for the individual religion of each of the Greek poets is substantially the same to-day as it was three hundred years ago. And therefore to open anew the question of Sophokles' religion may seem an unprofitable proceeding. And yet, — - granted that our evidence has not appreciably increased, has not our point of view considerably changed ? The latest ex- haustive treatment of the subject is some twenty-five years old,* and written at a time when it was but too common to look upon Greek religion as a worship of various personified aspects of nature, with an ethical admixture, the whole being * E. Abbott, " Theology and Ethics of Sophocles " in Hellenica. 170 171 Some Aspects of the Religion of SophoMes. measured by Christian standards. Assuredly, the extension of our knowledge of popular beliefs must also affect our esti- mate of the individual belief of a Sophokles. Again, the study of popular beliefs, dealing as it does chiefly with the intellectual side of the religious consciousness holds out greater hopes of definite results to be obtained. But in endeavoring to determine the precise character of the religion of a poet like Sophokles we are confronted with difficulties that may well seem insuperable. Sophokles has left us no confession of faith. We have no evidence outside of his dramas, and for obvious reasons we should be cautious in using their contents, — ^utterances put in the mouth of the actors, — as evidence for the poet's personal belief. And the testimony of his dramas is not only of uncertain character, it is also fragmentary. Again, a merely mechanical method, the rigorous application of a certain set of rules may establish a few facts, — it cannot lead to an adequate realization of the true nature of that complicated aggregate of emotional and intellectual factors that go to make up the religious conscious- ness. The final interpretation of the facts in questions of this kind becomes largely a matter of intuition; consequently our views are subjective and there remains considerable room for difference of opinion. But if exact and positive knowledge on such points is beyond our reach, we can at least strive to make some progress in the desired direction. In the present paper such an effort is made — an endeavor to bring nearer to us the religious personality of Sophokles, at least in some of its aspects, which, it is hoped, may con- tribute to a nicer appreciation of his dramas as works of a distinctly religious art. Former writers on the subject have laid undue stress on the ethical element in Sophokles' religion. They be- gan their inquiries, often perhaps unconsciously, by com- paring Sophokles to his great predecessor, and invariably tried to determine the position of the one poet with refer- ence to that occupied by the other. Now, in Aischylos the Some Aspects of the Religion of Sophokles. 172 question of theodicy is undoubtedly paramount. Conse- quently, when it came to he determined whether Sophokles' drama, from a religious point of view, constitutes an advance on or a retrogression from Aischylos, it was the connection ^.helween sin and suffering that was first inquired into. Then it would become plain that Sophokles did not perceive justice operating in a simple and direct way in God's dealings with man. Some writers, indeed, affirmed that the innocence of the Sophoklean sufferers was only apparent, and set them- selves to prove the existence of some " guilt " or other on the part of an Oidipus, Antigone, Philoktetes, Deianeira. Others, while accepting the disproportion between the suffering of Sophokles' heroes and heroines and their guilt, attributed this to a profounder moral earnestness on the part of the poet, and to his closer observation of the facts of life. They affirmed that he " identified the empire of Zeus with an order of the world which is just and good " ; they spoke of " redemption " and pointed to Oidipus ; thus the gods finally made amends to Philoktetes ; and Antigone's death was set dowa as " her constancy's reward." Again, there was found in Sophokles " an approach to that doctrine which the Hebrews learned in their captivity, of the blessedness of sorrow." Others, re- jecting this mode of interpretation, for which not a particle of evidence can be found in Sophokles' works, thought that a child-like faith in the goodness and justice of the divine power characterises Sophokles and distinguishes him from Aischylos, — the faith of the pious to whom it is sufficient to perceive the hand of God, to make them adore and worship Him. Finally evidence has been found in some of his dramas of a mind strongly inclined toward a fatalistic view of life. With all these writers it is the starting point that is at fault. Sophokles holds no place among the thinkers of Greece. His religion should be approached on its emotional, not on its intellecttial side. I would lay down as the fundamental truth from which to proceed, that Sophokles is almost wholly, if not exclusively, 173 Some Aspects of the Religion of Sophokles. swayed by his emotions, in all matters religious. The re- ligious emotion, — so strong in him that it may fitly be called one of the constituent parts of his being, — consists primarily in man's consciousness that he is in the power of a being or beings whqm he reveres as the all-powerful and supreme.* Since, then, the emotions are the dominating factor in his spiritual life, we should cease to look in his works for a clear- cut and well-thought-out doctrine regarding the divine ; there is simply a broad and deep feeling of god. For his is the " religiosity " of the poet and artist ; the speculations and theorizing of the theologian are foreign to his spirit. Indeed, inherent in Sophokles' religion is its intellectual weakness ; his religion is made up of the most glaringly incon- gruous elements, — the noblest aspirations and the belief in a god, commanding matricide, stand side by side. The last to build up a new system of theology, he did not even attempt to purge traditional belief from the lower elements it contained. Incapable of any such intellectual effort, he merely adapts to his personal needs what he finds at his disposal, — and that without exercising his reason in differentiating between the true and the false. But if the intellect had little share in guiding his vague apprehensions and indefinite longings to a firmer conception of the divine, — how much greater was the scope he uncon- sciously allowed to his sense of wonder. Reverence and won- der lie at the basis of all that deser\'es the name of religionf ; the sense of mystery is an indispensable element in the mental make-up of all religious persons, — in most confined within reasonable limits, but apt to run riot in people of one-sided emotional nature. This is just what happened in Sophokles' case. His sense of the mysterious was developed to a degree bordering on the abnormal ; he seems to have felt a positive need of being moved by his gods to wonder and awe ; a strange delight in suffering himself to be mystified by such decrees * C. P. Tiele, " Elements of the Science of Religion," II., p. 19. t Carlyle. Some Aspects of the Religion of Sophokles. 174 and manifestations of the divine power as baffled all human understanding; there existed in him a natural predisposition to discover a mysterious supernatural cause at work where to others a rational explanation sufficed. For an illustration of this mental tendency on his part, let us examine his version of Deianeira's story. To the author of the Medea the jealousy of the heroine, culminating in a murderous deed, would have formed the center of interest. "Not so with Sophokles. The element most strongly appealing to him was not the human but the divine element in the story ; this he found in the fact that Deianeira slew her husband un- wittingly. For that made the story another illustration of the contrast between appearance and reality, between the meaning of events as seen by man, and as designed by god. Forever prone to discern the hand of god, Sophokles nowhere detects the silent and mysterious influence of the deity more readily than where there is so striking a contrast between the end the human will aims at and that which it in fact achieves. JS'ow, there are two innovations in Sophokles' version of the story. The first of these is the oracles, — one relating to the time, the other to the manner of Herakles' death. Both oracles may be safely set down as the pious invention of the poet. They go to prove that he wished to impress iipon his audience that the fatal mistake of Deianeira was not merely an accident, but an event decreed by god and brought about by god, so that at the close of the play Hyllos may speak of the " sorrows manifold and strange; and in all this there is nought but Zeus," — ^that is, as Professor Jebb explains, Zeus is manifested in each and all of these events. Where others, then, would have spoken of an " irony of fate," there Sophokles introduced oracles and felt the mysterious influence of an unseen presence. The other innovation concerns Deianeira. To the mind of the average Athenian her name may have brought with it a suggestion of ferocity. In Sophokles' hands she grew into " a perfect type of gentle womanhood " (Jebb). Contrary to all legend, he placed her marriage at an early period of Herakles' 175 Some Aspects of the Religion of SophoMes. life, before he had performed the labors for Eurystheus. Thus all the fears and anxieties of the devoted wife who knows her husband constantly exposed to grave perils, fell to her lot ; these were the ties that bound her to her husband. " From youth upwards she has endured constant anxieties relieved only by gleams of happiness, — the rare and brief visits of Heracles to his home" (Jebb). Whatever act of disloyalty to her Heracles has been guilty of, she has condoned and against this new rival, who is to share her home, she feels no hatred, no bitterness even; she only wishes to retain the place that is hers by right of these many years of devotion and suf- fering. What, now, caused Sophokles to depart so widely from tra- dition? We may judge of the cause by the effect attained; such portrayal of Deianeira immeasurably heightened the appalling significance of that " unwittingly." The mystery in which the whole episode is shrouded is deepened ; god chose the gentlest hand to strike the most cruel blow. But the mystical pantheism of Sophokles is only a feeling of god, a rather vague consciousness of the omnipresence of the divine, which makes no attempt to draw a clear line be- tween human will and divine agency. And throughout the Trachinice there is no hint even that the question as to the motive of the terrible deity ever suggested itself to the poet's mind. He only bids the spectator feel the presence of that Ineffable Something there, and wonder, and be humble. This sense of wonder will mainly account for his profound consciousness of human limitations, keener in him perhaps than in any other Greek, and for the meek submission of his reason to what it takes to be the hidden counsels of God. His attitude towards this god, with whom man cannot and may not reason became one of unqualified submission. And again, closely connected with his sense of the mysterious is his con- sciousness of the " Nichtigkeit " of human life ; for man is moving in utter darkness, entirely at the mercy of a power Some Aspects of the Religion of Sophokles. 176 whose ways are past understanding; therefore human life is all uncertainty. But it will be readily understood that the open, crude and violent interference of the gods in human affairs in which former generations had believed, meant little or nothing to Sophokles. Scholars have rightly observed in Herodotus an inclination "to contract the limits of the Supernatural." This observation would also hold good of Sophokles, who had so much in common with the historian. At the same time these limits are indefinitely expanded. Sophokles eliminates all manifestation of the divine power, showing itself in rude and sudden disturbance of existing order. God's work is not to be perceived by the human eye ; not by the senses ; it is rather to be apprehended, dimly felt by the heart. For not by out- ward visible act, but in a subtle mysterious way, evading rational analysis, God works out his will. And, therefore, since he naturally discerns the divine everywhere, the scope of the divine agency is indefinitely expanded, God's influence pervading the entire sphere of human life. The clear day- light in which gods and men move in the Homeric poems is replaced in the Sophoclean drama by a twilight where all outline is dimmed, all movement assumes a mysterious aspect.* * The Elektra forms the only exception; here for once god stands outside; this accounts for the Homeric qualities of the play, which have often been noted. But Sophokles' version of the story is a purely con- ventional one, with its calm condonation of matricide. Conventional is also the deus ex machina in the Philoktetes, and the prologue of the Aids. Yet, even in the Philoktetes we have the truly Sophoklean con- trast between appearance and reality; the councils of Zeus reserved the wretched outcast as the saviour of the Greeks. And in the Aias the conventional Athena is speedily dropped and the dark, nameless power that plays such an appalling rOle in the lives of the Sophoklean heroes is once more in control. After his madness is past, Aias still labors under the divine influence, d nigi uavia ^vvav^o^ (611), as the chorus sur- mises. And we are informed in so many words by the seer Kalchas. Here again we have an innovation of Sophokles' hand, — a peculiar touch, char- acteristic of the poet, and strikingly parallel to the one in the Trachiniae, noted above. Sophokles again refuses to present Aias' deed in its purely , human aspects; not only a sense of shame and despair drove the hero 177 Some Aspects of the Religion of SophoMes. There is a wide gulf separating the " naif " belief of the Homeric man in his humanized gods from the mystical pan- theism of a Sophokles. But feeling the immediate presence of his god, he not only must have been constantly on the alert for a sign, be it in dream or portent, to guide his conduct; not only must have desired to draw near to that power, easily offended, to propitiate its anger and win its favor, — but at times jutist have felt an imperative need to lose himself in God, his own will in that of the Deity, to feel at one with it, in order to attain the " blessedness " and peace of mind of the truly religious man, — a need that may have found its fittest expression in devout acts of worship. This is the mystic side of his religion. Indicative of this tendency towards mysticism are the reverence in which he holds the utterances of the Pythia, the mouthpiece of Apollo ; his reverence for Teiresias, the inspired prophet; his belief in the potency of dreams in conveying the will of the deity ; the veneration in which he holds the Eleusinian mysteries. Additional evidence is contained in the scholium on Elehtra 831, "he was a most pious man," which can only mean that Sophokles had been known to discharge his religioiis duties with scrupulous zeal. Tiele has justly observed that " wor- ship always involves a certain mystic element," and that " worship must be pervaded with a genuine and healthy mys- ticism, it must be inspired with belief, without which it is nothing."* Close observance of the ritual may, indeed, be due to various causes; and there is no reasonable doubt but to suicide, but there was added an influence from above. But the char- acter of that baleful influence does not even remotely suggest the person- ality of Athena, and is essentially the same as that -which vexed the mind of Antigone and drove her to her doom. For that Sophokles found in Antigone's frenzied despair an indication of the supernatural, of the heaven-sent arri that had dwelt so long with the Labdacids and made the history of that house a record of violent deeds, — that I have tried to show elsewhere. ("The Subject of Sophokles' Antigone," Philadelphia, 1901.) * " Elements," II., 142, 153. 12 -fc^ Some Aspects of the Religion of Sophohles. 178 that also in Sophokles an attitude of " caution towards the gods "f was a powerful factor in prompting him to do his duty by the gods. At the same time we are safe in ascribing his zeal in matters pertaining to worship primarily to a gen- uine religious emotion which, thus expressed, is more or less mystical in its tendencies. The most conclusive evidence of this mental tendency is furnished by the 0. K. Throughout the play the immediate presence of the divine is felt, and that in the person of Oidipus. The deity does not appear in bodily form, the human eye beholds nothing. But Oidipus inwardly feels the divine promptings and perceives the voice of god. By inspiration he holds the knowledge of such things as are mysteries, which speech may not profane (1526). This spirit of mysticism has found powerful expression especially in the last scene. Oidipus, the blind one, formerly dependent on the guidance of others, now leads the way ; the summons which had come from the godf urges him on ; no one is to touch him and slowly he disappears from view : god in Oidipus. % Edward Caird has admirably characterized mysticism as " the great means whereby a religious principle supplements the defects of its own imperfect development and anticipates the results of a more advanced stage than it has yet attained. "§ Such characterization exactly fits this phase of Sophokles' religion ; in his moments of religious exaltation pure intuition may have allowed him to catch a glimpse of the Eternal, glorious beyond the ordinary conceptions of his time. IsTever- theless, his religion, lacking the solid foundation of reason, is only a feeble attempt to reconcile what could not be reconciled ; a compromise of so confused a nature that it could satisfy none but the simple-minded, an irrational " combination of the inwardness of subjective feeling and the objectivity of tradi- tion." |i • fi npoc Toic i>£oi)f Ev7.a.jit:m ; the expression occurs [Dem.] 59, 74. f Tovn ■deoii nap6v ( 1540) . % For Bacchic ecstasies and mysticism cp. Trach, 216 ff. I The Evolution of Religion, II., p. 290. II O. Pfleiderer, The Philosophy of Religion (E. T.), IV, p. 288. 179 Some Aspects of the Religion of Sophohles. 1 We have allowed in Sophokles a wide scope to his sense of wonder. Only little reflection is needed to reveal the fact, generally overlooked, how truly immense and manifold the material was which stimulated this sense of wonder. And here reference is not made to the irrational elements in myths and legends but primarily to every-day religious practice and to ideas still widely current in those days, survivals of an earlier stage in religious development. There is, to begin with, the " taboo " idea, a sentiment springing, as it seems, from man's instinctive need to distin- guish between actions permissible and such as must not be done under any circumstances, a feeling that sets apart certain things and surrounds them with an imaginary wall of sacred- ness. Closely connected with it is the primitive idea of cere- monial purity and impurity. In this way the ethical con- sciousness found utterance but sanctioned its mandates on religious, i. e., supernatural grounds. The twofold meaning of " agos," — not due to its being derived fron) two different roots, as was once erroneously supposed, — is sufficient evidence that this primitive sentiment once held powerful sway over the Greek mind. The tabooed thing is a thing set apart, either as an object of religious veneration or of religious horror. Oidipus, guilty of parricide and incest, is a tabooed person; he may be morally innocent; it does not alter the fact that his person is a menace to the community in which he dwells. The transmissibility of taboo is a principle firmly believed in. "Whatever comes in contact with the tabooed per- son is in turn infected ; even sight polluted.* Thus the primi- * This explains the horror of the chorus in the 0. K. (220 fif.), when they know whom they are looking upon; and at the close of the play they pray that, having seen Oidipus, they may not have to sufTer for it: fii/6' oAoorov avdp' ISav aiiep6^ X^P''" /icrdaxoifii nac ( 1483 ) . Oidipus himself speaks of his xdpa SvairpdaoirTov (285). The same adjective is applied to the dream of Klytaimestra : ivawpomnr' bvcipara {El. 460), in which con- nection we remember Aisch. Pers 201 f., where Atossa, after her dream purifies herself : ;if epoiv KoXTuppdov ifavaa nr/y^g. To avoid pollution, Laios' attendant leaves Thebes after the slayer of his master had occupied the Some Aspects of the Religion of Sophokles. 180 tive mind could not think of moral guilt except as a physical stain. But the age of Perikles, though, indeed, it produced a Nikias, was beginning to otitgrow such notions, which at this time deserve the name of superstitions only. How great a hold, however, they still had on Sophokles' mind is tolerably clear from his Oidipus dramas. There can be no doubt but that the person of Oidipus inspired him with the same kind of unreasoning horror which it produced in his chorus. The poet is fully aware that Oidipus is morally innocent; and he would be unable to define the exact nature of the " miasma," or stain, in Oidipus' person. Nevertheless, because he is fully unprepared to think out the problem, he accepts the actual and effective existence of that " stain " even as he accepts the miracle that converted Oidipus from an evil- bringing power to a beneficial power; all this transcends human reason : that is why it is divine. Another relic of earlier times is the sentiment, also pre- valent among nearly all primitive peoples, which enjoins silence regarding certain matters and forbids the use of certain words. There is a reverential silence to be observed regarding things divine ; " the identity or at least the close connection between a thing and its name not only makes the utterance of a holy name an invocation which ensures the actual pres- ence of the deity invoked, it also makes the holy name too sacred for common use or even for use at all."* Twice in Sophokles' extant plays Teiresias hesitates to divulge what the deity has made known to him, not only because he fears to offend his master, but the sacredness of his knowledge would throne: ag n2.a.nTov dr/TovS' dTroTrrof aarcug (0. T. 762). And Elektra, leav- ing Aigisthos to be buried by dogs and birds, yet takes care that his body shall be out of her and Orestes' sight: aTTOTrrov ij/ian (El. 1489). Instruc- tive are Kreon's words to the attendants who have suffered Oidipus to go forth from the palace : " if they have lost all reverence for man, at least let them revere the light of the sun: roi6v^ ayog amAvKTov Semuiivat. Cp. also 0. K. 755 ff. and Oidipus' entreaty to hide him somewhere : KaXiiTpaT 7) i^oveiiaa-f, ^ ^akaaami cuijhpa-f, iv9a /i^ttot' cladfea'S' eTi(0. T. 1411). . * F. B. Jevons, "Introduction to the History of Religion," p. 361. 181 Some Aspects of the Religion of SophoUes. he disturbed by and does not bear to be set fortb in simple and direct language. * Similarly Oidipus can divulge only in vague terms what benefits he will bestow on Athensf , to Theseus alone he will confide " such mysteries which speech may not profane." X Again, Tekmessa only reluctantly relates what took place on that fateful morning o^ Aias' madness. How can she speak of which it not lawful to speak ? § For she has witnessed the work of some supernatural power, and, true to Greek sentiment, she fears lest a detailed account of all that happened might bring back the baleful influence of that dread power. A sharp distinction is made between things " rheta " and " arrheta," — things of which it is lawful and of which it is unlawful to speak. Oidipus acknowledges that Teiresias cannot reveal all the god has given him knowledge of. II Thus the messenger from Korinth asks whether it is lawful for him to know what the oracle said.l 1^0 one can fail to observe in what manner notions and senti- ments like these were bound to affect people of Sophokles' stamp. The feeling that made man shrink from speaking of things holy and divine, or at least speak of these matters with bated breath; the firm belief that, when in the mysteries the deities were called upon by secret names, the mere utterance of such names by the votaries put them at once on a footing of intimacy with the god**; the ideas associated with such terms as eutpyjfisiv and duafTjfiuv, — all this must have tended to invest all things pertaining to the divine with a mysterious halo of its own. And innumerable are the things man dare * Teiresias says : ipaeic fie TaKLvrfra 6ia .ov e'lShai ; cp. also 464 f., 1289. O. K. 978 ff., 1000 ff. ** Gardner and Jevons, " Greek Antiquities," p. 224. Some Aspects of the Religion of Sophokles. 182 not know. For not only is the initiated forbidden to divulge his knowledge to the profane; not only does the god entrust his prophet with such knowledge as cannot be cummunicated to the masses; but often the gods themselves hide the truth from man, and in that case all human effort to pierce the darkness is vain and sinful.* Sophokles has no sympathy with those who carry their scrutinies into these forbidden domainsf ; their reckless con- duct fills him with alarm. Again, the Greek ritual, as practiced in Sophokles' day was a survival of a bygone age. The original meaning of most of these rites, often of elaborate character, had long been for- gotten, yet they were carried out with strict observance of minute detail. The importance primitive man attached to this ritual, his fear that the omission of the slightest detail might render the whole ceremony fruitless or worse, — is a fact with which students of religion are familiar. In Sopho- kles' age the circumstance that in the large majority of cases time had obscured the original meaning of these rites, may have resulted in degrading them with many to a mere formal- ism devoid of all meaning. But this very circumstance, viz., that origin and meaning of the ritual was no longer under- stood, tended only to increase its value for those filled with reverential wonder at the divine. In the performance of these rites they found the opportunity, instinctively sought for, of converting into act the ardor of their feelings. The best illustration, apart from the Antigone, of Sopho- kles' attitude towards this ritual is furnished by the careful directions of the chorus in the 0. K., 466 ff., as to the means whereby Oidipus may appease the' wrath of the dread god- desses on whose precinct he trespassed. In these particular rites, as in all others, the irrational element prevailed. Why was it dangerous to pour out wine to the Erinyes ? Why * dX^' oi} yap av to. ^ela Kpwrrdvruv i9frjv, fid^oL^ av, ovd' si Tvdvr' £7rffe/lt9oif OKovav (fr. 834) and cp. 0. T. 280 f. \ ^cau jxev haTi(; Tcuftavij TrepcffKOTVel {fr. 667). /i?)7rdvr' epsiiva' TzdWka Kal ?a-d€iv mUv ( fr. 81 ) ; and cp. O. JC 1640 ff. 183 Some Aspects of the Religion of SophoMes. should Oidipus take care to draw the water for his drink- offering from an ever-flowing spring ? Why should he in the act of worship turn to the East? "Why should he speak in cautious whispers? What mysterious danger was there in turning around after the performance of rites and prayers ? These are all "the unwritten and unfailing statutes of heaven; their life is not of to-day or yesterday, and no man knows when they were first put forth." All attempt to ac- count for them on rational basis may prove futile; for that very reason they were of priceless value to those whose emo- tional temperament demanded expression of some kind. To resume : we have seen there was much in Greek cult and religious sentiment apt to stimulate the sense of mystery, much that seemed to forbid man to reason with god. It was that element in Greek religion, that, belonging to an older stratum of belief, had been at the time of its origin reasonable enough to the primitive mind, but which now had become wholly unintelligible, or partly so. A bold thinker may partially succeed in freeing his mind from traditional bias. It was otherwise with him, who, at the mercy of his emotions, was naturally predisposed to wonder and awe. But such an attitude towards the divine implies a fear of God, which is not the wholesome fear of the guilty conscience but an unreasoning dread at the Supernatural. In gophokles it became the insuperable obstacle to his attaining to a nobler conception of God. For where his moral earnestness and his reverence for the Deity would and did cause him to look Tip to God as a Being, greater and better than himself, morally his superior, there, at another time, did his awe at the mystery, which seemed to enshroud the divine, forbid him to pry into what he conceives to be the secret motives of his god, to give utterance to doubts he may have felt and to reject what his reason would have told him to reject. If his gods are not unjust, not cruel, not malicious, it is only because he does not venture to measure their acts by the standards of human morality. He anxiously refrains from any utterance that Some Aspects of the Religion of Sophokles. 184 might even imply a lack of respect for the divine. When Elektra, in utter despair at the reported death of Orestes, is on the point of assailing the gods, the chorus hastily inter- pose their : " utter no rash cry ! "* For the gods are svs^ift in punishing any utterance at vsrhich they may take offence. For a little boastful word Artemis exacts from Agamemnon the sacrifice of his daughter. Athena does not strike Aias with madness because of his evil designs against his country- men, but in punishment of a few proud words, such as might have escaped the lips of any man, conscious of his strength. And when the cruel goddess lectures Odysseus and boastingly shows what the mighty Aias has become in her hands, the pious Odysseus does not ask himself : is this spitef ulness, this cruelty worthy of a goddess ? 'Rot can he exult in the down- fall of his enemy. He is full of compassion and fear : " I think of mine own lot no less than his. For I see that we are but phantoms, all we who live, or fleeting shadows."f Expressions of this character occur with almost wearisome frequency in Sophokles' works. r« ^i^ra fpoveTv, " to have mortal thoughts," that is the key-note of his attitude towards his god. But this sense of human limitations was rapidly disappear- ing among his contemporaries. An awakening rationalism began to attack what it regarded as the superstitions of a by- gone age. It was a period of enlightenment, in which the spirit of free inquiry began to assert itself. Impatient of authority, it demanded a rational basis for all that formerly had been taken for granted. And worse than all to the pious Athenian : some representatives of the new wisdom did not stop at theorizing but on various occasions aggressively and with great display of profanity attacked the form of religion. This was a phase of the new enlightenment that was particu- larly offensive to the pietism of the Athenians. * El. 830 : fiJjScv fiiy' avar/g. \Ai. 124 : ovdiv TO roirov fiaXkov rj rovfibv ckottov. dpGi yap Tffidg ovSev bvra^ aXko ttTJjv clduV baotircp ^a/iev ^ Kov^n/v dKiav. 185 Some Aspects of the Religion of SophoMes. How keenly Sophokles suffered under this condition of affairs we may still leam from that unique outburst found in the 0. T., — the most heart-felt and impassioned protest of genuine piety against the antagonistic tendencies of its time to be found in classical Greek literature. I mean the second stasimon of the 0. T. Sophokles begins by praying that in the midst of this ungod- liness he may preserve his " purity " in words and deeds, regarding which there are laws of divine origin ; never will these be lulled to sleep, for god lives in them (863-871). He prays in effect to his gods that they may not take away from him the awe with which he approaches all thing sacred; that he may not lose his reverence for the divine will, as announced in oracle and portent ; that he may keep his mouth clean from any impious and blasphemous utterance ; that they may leave him the joy of adoration when in the solemn act of worship. These "laws," then, are not to be identiiied with " the great moral laws." They are the prescription of conduct and speech regarding all matter holy and divine: the laws enjoin- ing reverence for what traditionally had been regarded as sacred, and strict observance of the " vo/w/za," religioiis cus- toms and usages. In short, they are the laws of reverence, but such laws, as must not act as a restraining power from without, but the obedience to which must proceed from the inwardly-felt needs of the heart; even as Antigone spontane- ously performs the burial-rites and obeys the law of reverence because she cannot help obeying. But this spirit of reverence is now sadly lacking in Athens. What generation after generation has held in sacred awe is now too often being ridiculed or contemptuously set aside. And these tendencies have just now culminated in a supreme act of wanton irreverence.* He wai'ns his people : " in- solence breeds the tyrant." For why should he who pays no homage to the divine, have any reverence for the rights of man? Such wanton irreverence cannot last; in the end it Some Aspects af the Religion of SophoTeles. 186 will meet its doom ; it may glut itself with outrage after out- rage : " when it hath scaled the topmost ramparts," it will be hurled down, held fast in the grip of a Greater Power, its limbs paralyzed. " But," the poet prays, " may there ever be in my city another group of men, ready to stand up for the rights of God." He will not cease looking up to the deity as his mainstay (8T2-881). But he well knows that there are many who do not share this humble spirit of the devout. " Walking haughtily in word and deed," they prove their overweening self-reliance; in their ill-fated pride which does not fear the divine wrath, they have no veneration for the images of the gods; they lay their hands in what is holy, caring only for gain, regardless of " dike " ; nothing can be too sacred not to be defiled by their touch. The poet declares in warning and most emphatic tones, that a community like theirs must be forever exposed to the divine wrath. It is true, — ^the semblance of religion is still there ; nominally the gods are still worshipped with public rites. But with righteous indignation he denies that this mummery or the cautious formalism of the hypocrite is a fair substitute for religion. For can one think of a greater in- dignity offered to God, than that of feigning reverence and joining in worship, when the hands are defiled by acts of sacrilege and the mouth by words of blasphemy (882-896) ? Then he turns to his god and with truly Greek imivete threatening the deity to forsake him and his shrines, he calls on him to mete out exemplary punishment to those guilty of such wanton irreverence. He prays to the supreme god, — so grand and powerful that even the name Zeus cannot encom- pass his glory,— to that " King," the " all-ruling one," to his " ever-deathless power ", to give this signal manifestation of his wrath, and to humble man's overweening pride. And it is high time; for oracles are set at nought, the divine will is no longer heeded; nowhere Apollo meets with the honor due to him; all reverence for the divine is perishing* (897-910). * ippct 6i TO. -Stia. 187 Some Aspects of the Religion of Sophohles. Such is the everlasting protest of reverence against irrever- ence ; of the mystic against the rationalist who would " dis- pute out of him the God whose presence he feels in his heart." The fiction of the Theban elders is entirely abandoned. All attempts to narrow down this ode to a mere commentary on the preceding scenes of the drama, are doomed to failure. Yet it is the same spirit that pervades both; or, rather, the sentiment in which the drama was conceived culminates in that ode. The ode we have called the protest of reverence against irreverence: the drama itself is but a powerful illus- tration of utter helplessness of man against god. The story of Oidipus, as told and interpreted by Sophokles would teach the spectator the lesson of humility. Let us outline the tale of Oidipus in that unsophisticated form in which it probably appealed to our poet; and let us, for the time being, banish all thought of theodicy or moral order of the world or fatalism. " Once upon a time there was a King of Thebes whose name was Laios. He dwelt in happiness and peace; when on a certain day god spoke to him and said: Thou shalt have a son; and when he has grown to manhood, he will slay his father and marry his mother. Laios was much concerned, lest the word of god should prevail ; for he was a pious and god-fearing man. And when a child was born to him, he gave it to his herdsman, that he might expose it to the perils of the moun- tain-wilds and there let it perish. " But the herdsman took pity on the child and gave it to another, who was pasturing the flocks of his master, the king of a neighboring country. This king took the child and reared it as his own since he was without offspring. And he named him Oidipus. " But when the boy had grown to manhood, god spoke to him and said: Thou shalt slay thy father and marry th'n mother and have such offspring as man cannot endure to be- hold. And Oidipus was much concerned lest the word of Some Aspects of the Religion of Sophokles. 188 god should prevail; for he was pious and god-fearing. And fleeing from his country, he set out to find a new home. " And it came to pass that on his way he met another traveller, with whom he fell to quarrelling; and Oidipus slew him and his attendants. " ]S"ot long hereafter he chanced to come to a city which was in dire distress. Its king had been killed and nearby, on a hill, there sat a terrible monster, with the face of a maiden and the body of winged lion. It chanted a riddle and certain death awaited all who failed to solve it. " Wherefore the people, in sore need, proclaimed that he who should find the answer, should have a great reward in that he should be made their king and marry their queen. " And, behold, Oidipus, the homeless wanderer, solved the riddle, whereupon the people made him their king and gave him their queen to wife. " And Oidipus, thinking himself the child of good fortune, was grateful to the gods. "The name of the city was Thebes. Many years he ruled in happiness and peace ; for he was a just king and his wisdom was great. And four children be begot by his wife. " But, at last, a great evil fell upon his people. There was a. blight upon the fruits of the earth and on the increase of man and beast; and a terrible pestilence ravaged the town. The people in great despair turned to their king to rescue the state. But even his wisdom could find no means to relieve their suffering. But the god said there was a defiling thing in Thehes which must he driven out. " And it was found that Oidipus himself, the wise and god- fearing ruler of his people, had caused their suffering and had polluted Thebes. " Tor, behold, the word of god had come to pass." Such I conceive to have been essentially the character and the form of that chapter of sacred history as it was present to Sophokles' mind. A tale of powerful simplicity, it made a. direct appeal to his heart, and as such, purely as such, he set 189 Some Aspects of the Religion of Sophokles. himself to dramatize it with all the resources of his genius, — including " tragic irony." The language in which he ad- dresses his audience and by which he may have hoped to awaken them from their intellectual pride, is the language of reverence and wonder. He felt in the story of Oidipus the presence of that ineffable something, at which man can only marvel and bow his head in silent submission. And this he wished to bring home to his audience, — awakening in them the sense of mystery, which is not, indeed, religion itself, but the handmaid of religion ; humbling their pride ; shaking their confidence in that reason which was of so little avail to Odipus. The Oidipus myth was preeminently adapted to Sophokles' purpose : nowhere is the mystery of human suffering more appalling, — the story of a man whom the gods exalted to the highest pinnacle of human glory only to hurl him back to the deepest depth of human misery; a fit vehicle for the lesson the poet wished to impart : the lesson of humility. In no other of the extant plays is the poet's religous ardor so glowingly reflected as in the 0. T. Here at last we see the genial Sophokles becoming conscious of a divine message he has to deliver, and rising almost to the dignity of religious prophetism. But it is idle to guess what event it was that had stirred him so profoundly as to rouse him to bitter de- nunciation of existing evils. The drama, however, is nothing but an appeal to the re- ligious and aesthetic emotions, and while Sophokles rises here to his greatest height, the same play exhibits more glaringly than any other the fatal defect of his religion. We have ob- ser\'ed that modem interpreters have evolved more than one doctrine, including fatalism, from this play; and who shall deny that similar errors were committed by his contemporaries, in that age of subtle and acute arguing ? It is all due to the fact that Sophokles gives absolutely no answer to the question that these interpreters have asked ; his one-sided treatment of the story utterly fails to satisfy the demands of the intellect. Such treatment, again, is characteristic of the man himself; Some Aspects of the Religion of Sofhohles. 190 he felt it deeply, but has not thought it out. His whole re- ligious system, — if system it can be called, — is hopelessly superficial. And this accords well with the little we know of his personality: a man of sound physical constitution, of cheerful temperament, and of epicurean proclivities, a genial companion, easy-going and anxiously guarding the happy medium between the two extremes of the too-much and the too-little, — such is not the stuff religious prophets are made from. The moral grandeur of an Antigone and an Elektra to his mind is inseparable from harsh;iess and intolerance; such bold assertion of right hardly fitted in with his ideas of human limitations. But Sophokles' sermons on sophrosyne offered little conso- lation to those who stood in real need of such. He has no answer for those who vehemently cried for Light, — and such there lived also at his time. In stead of stimulating the thoughts of the spectator, Sophokles is content to mystify him ; the atmosphere of the Sophoklean drama is altogether too op- pressive for him who wants to breathe freely. But that he never seriously and determinedly grappled with the great problems of life, is no doubt partly due to the kindness of fate, which vouchsafed him a long and happy life, rarely marred by any untoward event. All the more astound- ing is the error of those who find in him an approach to that higher and teleological view of suffering which is the choicest fruit of Christianity. The Temple College, Philadelphia. DATE DUE