THE HELLENIC ORIGINS OF
CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM
- - BY
JOSEPH WARD SWAIN. A.M.
-
SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILºNT or THE Rºoumºnts
For THE DEGREE OF Doomoº or PHILOSOPHY
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THE HELLENIC ORIGINS OF
CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM
BY
JOSEPH WARD SWAIN, A.M.
SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS
FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY
IN THE FACULTY OF POLITICAL SCIENCE
CoLUMBIA UNIVERSITY
NEW YORK
1916
A/.
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'THE NEW ERA Printing Coºp ANY
LAN CASTER, PA

TABLE OF CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº gº e º 'º & tº e º 'º e
|PART I: EARLY GREEK AscETICISM
CHAPTER I. Asceticism in Early Cults . . . . . . . © e º G
1. Poverty of sources, 6.
2. Purity and pollution: necessity of purity for those who
would approach sacred things, 8; special purity de-
manded of priests, 8; sources of impurity, 10.
3. Purifications, private and public, 13; in certain great
festivals, Anthesteria, Thargelia, Thesmophoria, 14;
ascetic rites required for purification, 19.
4. Mysteries of Eleusis, 20; long preparation for initia-
tion, which required purity, 21; purifications during
the mysteries, 22; especial purity of priests, 23,
which demanded celibacy and other ascetic acts of
some, 24.
5. Ideas of purity and impurity at the bottom of Greek
asceticism, 25; cases of individual ascetics, 26.
CHAPTER II. Asceticism in the Orphic Movement . .
1. General religious development in the eighth to sixth
centuries, 29; IDionysos, 30.
2. Orphism, origins, 31; doctrine, 33; dual nature of man,
35; original sin, 35; eschatology, 36; purity the goal
of the Orphics, 37; their ascetic methods for acquiring
it, 37; essentials of Orphic asceticism, 38.
3. Pythagoreanism, nature of movement, 40; asceticism, 41.
4. Empedocles, relations with Orphics and Pythagoreans,
43; asceticism in his rule of life, 45.
5. Activity of the early philosophers and sophists, 46;
first use of the word āorkmats, 47.
CHAPTER III. Asceticism in Plato . . . . . . . . . . . . .
1. Recapitulation of asceticism in early Greece, 48.
2. Sophists and their importance for Plato, 50; aristocratic
nature of Plato, 51; love for Athens, 51; hatred of
sophism, 52; debt to Orphism, 53, and Sophists, 54.
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48
iv.
3. Plato, main points in his philosophy, 55; real existence
of ideas, 55; dual world, 56; dual man, 56; fall, 57;
Orphic nature of doctrine, 57; progress and attain-
ment of purity through philosophical speculation, 58.
4. Plato's asceticism: Plato did not hate the body, 60;
but did consider the mind much loftier, 61; philos-
ophers should disregard things of the body, 62; essence
of Plato's asceticism, 64.
5. Platonic asceticism with later thinkers, 65.
PART II: Aso FTICISM IN THE GRAECO-ROMAN WORLD
CHAPTER IV. Religious Asceticism . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
1. Religious history of Greece after Alexander: establish-
ment of new cults; importation of oriental re-
ligions, 67.
2. Continuation of asceticism in Greek cults, 68.
3. Asceticism in oriental religions, 69; how important for
Greek thought, 69; ascetic nature of the oriental re-
ligions, 70; asceticism in special cults: Cybele, 72;
Attis, 74; Adonis, 75; Mithra, 76; Isis, 77.
4. Gnostic asceticism, 79; combination of oriental and
Greek asceticism, 80; asceticism of great Gnostics, 81.
CHAPTER W. Ethical Asceticism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
1. Rise of Ethical Schools, 84; distinguished from re-
ligions and philosophies, 85.
2. Cynicism, (a) early cynicism, 85; renunciation of goods
of civilization, 86; asceticism in early Cynicism, 88;
(b) revival of Cynicism under the Roman Empire, 89;
typical Cynics, Peregrinus, 90; Demonax, 92; Epicte-
tus’s ideal Cynic, 93; Musonius Rufus, 97.
3. Neo-Pythagoreanism, 98; resemblance with Cynicism,
98; Pythagorean rule, 99.
4. Popular ascetical teachers without a school, Dion Chry-
ostom, 99; Seneca's early training, 100.
5. Origins of this asceticism, 101; development of Greek
asceticism, 102; oriental influence, 102.
CHAPTER VI. Philosophical Asceticism . . . . . . . . . . .
1. Importance of ascetic ideals in the philosophy of the
day, 104; Stoicism: early Stoics not ascetics, 105; Posi-
donius gives cosmological background for later as-
cetics, 106.
67
V
2. Seneca : typical of his age, 109; his philosophy based
on theories of the transitoriness of things, 110; and
the eternal value of the soul, 111; importance of rea-
son, 112, and the soul, 1.12; life of philosopher opposed
to that of vulgar man, 114; struggle required of
philosopher, 115; baseness of body, 116; wickedness of
world, 117; value of philosophic retreat, 118; value of
ascetic discipline, 1.19; excessive austerities condemned,
120; essence of Seneca’s asceticism, 120.
3. Minor philosophies of the period: Philo, 121; Neo-
Pythagoreans, 123.
4. Neo-Platonism, essence of, 124; Plotinus, 126; his ascetic
. life, 126; his philosophical doctrine: distinction of in-
telligible and sensible worlds, 127; matter mark of
sensible world and of evil, 128; Universal Soul in man,
129; fall of man, 130; flight from world, 132; insuffi-
ciency of civil virtues, 132; insignificance of worldly
goods, 133; loftiness of intellectual life, 134; contem-
plation and ecstacy, 135; asceticism in Plotinus, 137;
Plotinus’s successors, 139.
CoNCLUSION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
THE HELLENIC ORIGINS OF CHRISTIAN
ASCETICISM
INTRODUCTION
For many years, and particularly since the appearance of
Havet's Le Christianisme et ses origines," and of Harnack's
monumental Lehrbuch der Dogmengeschichte,” and the pub-
lication of Hatch’s celebrated lectures on The Influence of
Greek Thought and Usages upon the Christian Church,”
scholars have realized that the origins of Christianity are to
be sought in the Greek world even more than among the Jews,
and that the Greek philosophers were the fathers of Christian
theology, rather than the Hebrew prophets. In recent years,
and particularly since the advent of the twentieth century,
large numbers of special studies have appeared in which the
dependence of the early Christians upon the Greeks of their
day is clearly set forth: it is shown that in their special doc-
trines, such as those concerning salvation, redemption and
immortality, as well as in their cosmological and moral theo-
ries, the Christians did not differ materially from many of
their contemporaries. Up to the present, however, no study
has been made of the origins of Christian asceticism from
this point of view. Scholars have, of course, been aware that
at the period of the rise of Christian asceticism, there was a
considerable movement in the same direction in the Greek
world, and have correctly inferred that it exercised a certain
influence upon budding Christian asceticism. Moreover,
scholars have attempted at times to account for certain fea-
1 Paris, 1872–1884.
2 Freiburg, 1886 (1 ed.).
s Hibbert Lectures, 1888.
2 1
2
tures of Christian asceticism by invoking Greek parallels:
Zeller tried to explain the ascetic movement among the Chris-
tians of the first centuries as a survival of Cynicism;* many
years later Weingarten attempted to derive Christian mo-
nasticism from an ascetic cult which he had found in the
temple of Serapis at Memphis;" Reitzenstein, approaching
the subject from the point of view of comparative literature,
has more recently shown the influence which the contempo-
rary aretologies had upon the early stories of Christian
monks.” But these writers have only dwelt upon certain
sides of the subject: if they attempted to generalize, as Wein-
garten did, and held that they had discovered the true and
only source of Christian asceticism, their conclusions were
wholly false." The trouble was that there has been, up to
the present, no rounded picture of the asceticism of the Greeks
at the time, and consequently when scholars noticed resem-
blances between early Christian ascetics and the Cynics, or
the recluses of the Serapeum, or some other special cult, they
at once concluded that they had found the source of the
Christian ascetic movement, for they completely ignored the
other Greek forms of asceticism then prevalent. It is the
purpose of the present study, then, to attempt to draw such
a picture of Greek asceticism as will enable others to see to
exactly how great an extent the Christians were dependent
upon the Greeks for their ascetic ideas and ideals; it is the
intention to give a rounded picture of Greek asceticism in the
various forms in which it appeared at the time of the spread
of Christianity. But no attempt will be made to show how
these ideas were transferred into Christianity, or to write of
early Christian asceticism: that would be too large a subject,
4 Eclecticism, p. 303.
* Der Ursprung des Mönchtums in machconstantinischen Zeitalter (1877).
• Hellenistische Wundererzählungen (1906).
* For a scholarly criticism of these various theories, though from an
orthodox Catholic point of view, see Leclercq, in Dictionnaire d’Arché.
ologie chrétienne, art. “Cénobitisme.” -
3
for it would require a careful study, not only of Greek asceti-
cism and early Church history, but also of Judaism and the
many oriental religions which were prevalent in the Roman
Empire; it is impossible to maintain that all Christian asceti-
cism was of Greek origin. But it seems that by this collec-
tion of material for the strictly Greek asceticism in the Ro-
man Empire, a contribution will be made to a future History
of the Origins of Christian Asceticism. -
Though, as has been stated, there is as yet no rounded pic-
ture of Greek asceticism, the subject is not a wholly new
one. In recent years a number of scholars have been study-
ing the subject, particularly in its early and more primitive
phases; these scholars have quite succeeded in breaking down
the old classic theory of Greek life which taught that there
was no place for ascetic rites in Greece, at least in the pre-
Bellenistic period. It used to be said that in Homeric days
the land was filled with fighting nobles who found only the
greatest pleasure in life and war, who had no time for pessi-
mistic or melancholy thoughts, and whose religion was one
of joy and gladness, giving no place to other-worldliness, and
that in later times this same optimistic world-view continued;
therefore the Greek people are to this day associated by many
persons with all that shows harmony, serenity, reasonable-
ness and joy in life. It may very well be the case that
Greek thought and religion were characterized to an eminent
degree by just these qualities—but they were not the only
ones. After the recent studies of a large number of scholars,
including Miss Harrison,” Farnell,” Wächter,” Fehrle, 11
and others, the old view, represented by Zöckler,” who dis-
missed Greece with a few pages in his general history of
8 Prolegomena to the Study of the Greek Religion (1903).
• The Evolution of Religion (1905); Cults of the Greek States (1896–
1909).
10 *~~~ in griechischen Kult (1910).
11 Die kultische Keuschheit im Altertum (1910).
12 Askese und Mönchtum (1898).
4
asceticism, is now completely untenable. These scholars
have made it perfectly clear that ascetic tendencies did exist
in Greece from very early times, but they too give only par-
tial pictures of Greek asceticism: they have concerned them-
selves only with the early and so-called primitive religions
of Greece. Wächter and Fehrle, to be sure, whose studies
are little more than compilations of Greek texts and inscrip-
tions, have covered the later periods, too, but their works give
none of the higher developments of Greek ascetical thought.
But it is just these higher developments that are important
for the student of early Christianity, for it was with them
particularly that the early Christians came in contact. Up
to the present, these higher developments have not been
studied at all. In the present study, therefore, attention will
be directed particularly to them. As they cannot be under-
stood without some knowledge of the forms out of which they
evolved and upon which they rested, it will be necessary to
devote an introductory chapter to the asceticism of the early
cults; but as these lower forms have already been well stud-
ied, this introductory chapter will be based largely upon these
other studies. These primitive forms of asceticism consti-
tuted the substratum upon which later development was
based, though they remained almost unaltered during the
whole course of Greek history: in the closing period of the
Greek world, Jamblichus shows that ideas were then preva-
lent which are also found in the early stages of Greek history;
therefore a strictly chronological study is not essential, and
the leading ideas may be illustrated from authors in the
various periods of Greek history. At a very early date,
however, development upon these elementary notions did be-
gin; in the Second chapter, therefore, attention will be devoted
to these developments, particularly as found in Orphism,
Pythagoreanism and some of the early philosophers. In the
third chapter a careful study will be made of the asceticism
of Plato; it will be seen that his thought upon the subject is
5
merely an exquisite exposition of the doctrines developed by
his more obscure predecessors. These three chapters will
constitute the first and introductory part of the study; they
will set forth the essential elements contained in Greek as-
cetic thought. The second part of the study will be devoted
to the different phases of the asceticism of the later Hellen-
istic age, which was contemporary with early Christianity.
This second part is therefore the central part of the study,
but it will readily be seen that a knowledge of the earlier
period, and particularly of the thought of Plato, is absolutely
indispensable to an understanding of the later part. Also
the influence which Plato had directly upon many Christians,
such as Origen, was very great.
PART I
E A R L Y G. R. E. E. K. A S C E TICISM
CHAPTER I
AscFTICISM IN THE EARLY CULTs
In taking up a study of early Greek asceticism, it must be
constantly borne in mind that the literary sources for this
side of the Greek religion are not all that might be desired.
Homer has nothing to say of asceticism, and very little to say
of purifications in general." This silence is probably due in
part to the fact that Homer represents a different set of reli-
gious ideas than those contained in the Minoan religion;
Homer was Aeolic, or Indo-European, but it seems that most
of the rites of this purifying nature were of Ionic, Attic,
Minoan origin.” At a later period, Aeschylus did take up
this tradition and spoke considerably of purification, which,
as will presently appear, is at the basis of all asceticism, but
he never carried his ideas to ascetic extremes. The other
classic authors have even less to say on the subject: a few
1 Gilbert Murray has supported a contrary view in his Rise of the
Greek Epic, pp. 123-4, pointing to the fact that Homer’s heroes let
their hair grow long during the siege of Troy, and, referring to the
unquestionable Jewish parallel custom, he assumes that this was “the
visible sign of various abstinences,’’ including one from women. But
Andrew Lang, in his World of Homer, pp. 132ff, denies any such ab-
stinences, showing that the Greeks let their hair grow long all the time,
and did not abstain from women during the siege. ‘‘Homer knows
nothing of taboos.”
2 Lang, p. 134: “These rites (of purification) are Ionic, Attic, and,
in historic Greece, are Hellenic, also Asiatic. They make an inseparable
barrier between Homeric and Ionic religion.”
6
7
hints can be picked up from the other dramatists and the
orators, but that is all. Nor is this surprising when we re-
member that this literature was written largely to entertain;
if too much were said of sin and punishment, of pollution,
purification and penance, it would be disagreeable and out of
place here. It should be remembered, therefore, that the
classic Greek literature gives only one side of the Greek reli-
gion—and this is not the side which interests the present
study. Recent epigraphical discoveries have opened up a
mine of new materials for the student of the Greek religion,
but unfortunately most of the inscriptions which have been
published are of late date: very few indeed which relate to
this subject antedate the fifth century, while the majority
come only from Hellenistic times. The study of ancient
vase-paintings, too, has shed much light upon new phases of
Greek religious life and thought. But after all, one of the
main sources of information for the early Greek cults remains
the writers of the Alexandrian period. Antiquarians of this
epoch are the ones who have passed down most of what is
known of the early Greek religion. The early Fathers of
the Church, too, such as Clement of Alexandria, have pre-
served much valuable material. But the difficulties under
which the Alexandrians worked are obvious. All that they
could possibly know was the cults as they existed in their
time; the persistency of such cults is well known, however,
and it is extremely probable that they continued to exist
for many centuries without undergoing any fundamental
change. In the case of the Fathers of the Church, it must be
remembered, too, that they were trying to show how foolish
such beliefs and practises were, and consequently they were
not very sympathetic observers; but on the other hand, it is
also a fact that they were writing for pagans who were well
acquainted with all these things, and must have known that
if they misrepresented them too violently, they would merely
discredit themselves with their readers.
8
But taking the materials as they are given, let us see what
ascetic tendencies we can find in early Greece.
From the earliest times of which there is any record, the
Greeks possessed certain ideas of purity which they expressed
by the word áYveta, and of stain, which they designated by
Putaoua, and of purifications which one so polluted had to
undergo, and which were called 'cabapplot. Now, if anyone
wished to enter a temple, or perform a sacrifice, or, in fine,
enter into relations of any sort whatsoever with the gods, he
had to be pure (àyvds). Thus Hesiod said, “being purified
and pure, offer sacrifices to the immortal gods”;” inversely,
Homer made some one say, “I am afraid to pour out strong
wine to Zeus, while having unwashed hands.” Moreover,
everything connected with the act had to be pure. Thus
Achilles purified the cup before pouring a libation to Zeus.”
The things sacrificed had to be pure. Euripides made Iphi-
genia say to her brother, whom she had been ordered to sac-
rifice, “we shall say that it is not permitted to sacrifice you
to the goddess, as you are not pure.” Plutarch remarked
that “a thing to be sacrificed must be pure in both body and
soul, and be unharmed and uncorrupted.” The whole
thing is well summed up in an inscription coming from
Astypalaia: “No one may enter the temple who is not pure.”
Injunctions of purity were particularly strict for priests.
IExceptional purity was demanded of those who entered the
temple every day and who handled the sacred things; they
had to take unusual care not to pollute themselves.” In the
first place, they had to keep away from forbidden things,
8 Op. 336f.: Köö 6' ºpóew iép 30avárotat 6eoforty &yvös kal kaðapās.
4 Il. Z 266f.: Xeport 6' divitrºtotow All Aelflew atóotra oivov čouai. Cf. Hes.
Op. 724.
5 Il. II 228.
6 Eur. Iph. Taur. 1035ff.: 'Qs of 6éus ore Néopiev 6&eiv 6e? ... of kaðapóv čvra.
7 Plut. de def. orac. 49.
8 [’E]s to lepov uh égépreuv darts tº &Yvös eart. Numerous other texts are
given in Th. Wächter, Reinheitsvorschriften in griechischen Kult, esp. § 1.
9 Wächter, pp. 12ff, and passim.
9
such as corpses, but that was not all: a life of complete purity
was required. Thus Plato, in the Laws, said that one chosen
priest should be scrutinized “first as to whether he is of
sound body and legitimate birth; and in the second place,
in order to show that he is of a perfectly good family, not
stained with homicide or any other impurity in his own per-
son, and also that his father and mother have led a similarly
unstained life.” Pausanias said of the priests and priest-
esses of Artemis Hymnia in Orchomenos, “they are required
not only to be pure from sexual intercourse and other things
during their whole lives, but they do not have baths and other
like things, nor do they enter the houses of individuals.”
The ancient interpreters of the oracle at Dodona, the Selloi,
were apparently forbidden to sleep in beds or wash their
feet.” The Greeks were particularly insistent upon the
sexual purity of priests. There were innumerable cults
which demanded the absolute chastity of the priest or priest-
ess; sometimes this obligation was extended to others who
were not priests, but who had some function to perform in
the cult notwithstanding. Apollo, having charge of purity
himself, was supposed to be particularly careful about this
matter. He was supposed to inspire Pythia by entering her
through the sexual organs, wherefore absolute chastity was
required of her.” Cassandra was another of his virgin
priestesses;** others are mentioned in Thebes and Epirus.**
Virgin priests and priestesses are also mentioned for Diony-
sos, Herakles, Zeus, Artemis, Athene, etc.” It is therefore
obvious that priests had to be doubly careful to keep away
10 Plat. Leg. WI 759c.
11 Paus. VIII 13, 1.
12 C. H. Moore, Greek and Roman Ascetic Tendencies, in Smyth,
Harvard Essays on Classical Subjects, p. 102.
13 Origen, c. Cels. VII 3.
14 Eur. Troad. 41ſf.
15 Paus. IX 10, 4; Aelian, Nat. An., 11, 2.
16 Cf. Fehrle, pp. 75–126. -
10
from polluting things: at times, this led to a veritably ascetic
mode of life. -
Certain of the Olympian gods were thought to have special
care for purity. In Pallas Athene we find a goddess who
concerned herself with all sorts of interests, and especially
with intellectual ones, and who was a virgin and pure. Vir-
gins were placed under her protection,” and she was even
called “the Pure ?' and “the Purifier.” In the cult of
Apollo particularly, attention was given to purity, as was
just pointed out; this was because it is he who had charge of
all things connected with purity,” as his very name shows.
Liddell and Scott say that he was called Phoebus because of
the purity and radiant beauty of youth; Miss Harrison re-
marks that the epithet has more to do with purity than radiant
beauty. The root of the word meant “in a condition of cere-
monial purity, holy in a ritual sense.” Plutarch says,
“the ancients, it seems to me, called everything that was pure
and sanctified Phoebic, as the Thessalians still say, I believe,
of their priests when they are living in seclusion apart on cer-
tain prescribed days that they are living Phoebically.”
Now just what did this purity consist in 2 What was it
that made one impure ? Wächter gives an immense number
of texts, taken from the Greek authors and inscriptions,
which show the sorts of things which polluted a person.
With the single exception of murder, none of the things for-
bidden are what we would call moral faults at all: they are
17 Herod. iv., 180.
18 "Ayvá, Schol. ad Ar. Nub. 967; kabápotos, Aesch. Eumen. 578.
19 But it is not true that Apollo was always a perfect model of purity
himself; cf. Eur. Ion, 436ff., where he is roundly denounced for his
‘‘misdeeds” and told that if he does not reform he will not have money
enough to pay his fines.
20 Harrison, p. 394.
21 Plut. de EI apud Delph., xx, 1: poºgov 5é 6% irov Tô kaffapóv kot &yvöv
ot traXavol trav čvápagov &s étu Georga}\ot toys tepéas ev roſis à troºpáow huépaus
aëroºs éq’ avròv čw 6tarpſbovtas oluai botflowouetotal Aéyovot.-Cf. Harrison,
p. 394. -
11
merely ritual faults; they are quite similar in character to -
the taboos of the most primitive peoples known to us to-day. -
The causes of pollution given in Wächter’s work are (1) child-
birth; a woman lying-in was impure, as were all who came
in contact with her, the child, and even the house; in some
cases this impurity lasted for forty days, and special rites
were required for purification; (2) a woman during men-
struation was impure; (3) certain diseases, especially in-
sanity, demanded purifications; (4) a corpse was impure, as
was anyone who approached one; a man had to purify him-
self after attending a funeral, while certain priests could not
be present at one at all; (5) every murderer was impure, not
only because of the approach to a corpse, but also, as
Wächter maintains,” through the putaoua of the soul of his
victim, which followed him; (6) certain animals were im-
pure, so that their flesh might not be sacrificed or eaten; in
different cults, swine, goats, sheep, cattle, horses, asses, deer,
dogs, birds, fish, etc., were taboo and in others all flesh food
was forbidden; (7) in some cults, certain vegetables were for-
bidden, such as beans, lentils, garlic, onions, mallows, mint,
apples, ivy, myrtle; also wine; (8) iron or bronze could not
be brought near to certain sanctuaries, nor gold to others.”
Of course, all these things were not forbidden to all Greeks;
many of them were confined to a few small cults. Neither
were they all contemporaneous. All that can be said is that
some cult has been found in Greece at one period or another
which regarded these things as taboo, or as they said, &Yds.
But even here, one of the most important sources of pollu-
tion is not mentioned: in fact, this source was so important
that it could not be grouped with the others, but had to be
treated in a separate volume. This is the pollution arising
22 Wächter, p. 64; cf. Rohde, Psyche, I 264, n. 2; 275, n. 2; II 78, n. 1.
23 Large numbers of texts illustrating the nature of these taboos will
be found in Wächter, op. cit., pp. 25–118. See also, Solomon Reinach,
Mythes, Cultes et Religions, I, pp. 24ff. Encyc. Rel. Eth., art. “Birth,’’
‘‘Animals,” etc. .
12
from sexual intercourse, which is dealt with in Fehrle’s com-
panion volume on ritual chastity.” The regulations in re-
gard to this were due to a vast variety of causes, including
not only such important points as the theories in regard to
the organization of the family, but also the wide-spread belief
that the union of men, and particularly of women, with the
divine was effected by this means (for examples, Pythia and
several of the mysteries”) and that persons who had been so
honored, or who aspired to being so honored, must abstain
from such unions with mortals. But it is also undeniable
that from the earliest times, the act was held to be polluting,
even in wedlock.” Purifications were required in certain
cases before a person so polluted could assist at any religious
ceremony; even purifications could never completely wash
away the stain, however, and for certain rites it was neces-
sary to have little girls so young that there could be no ques-
tion of their absolute purity.
If one inquires more carefully into the exact manner in
which these things were supposed to be polluting, he finds that
ideas in regard to evil spirits were invoked to explain it.”
These evil spirits were in early times thought of as little
winged sprites which fluttered about and were always anxious
to attach themselves to people; if they ever succeeded, their
unhappy host was sure to be not only polluted, but also
afflicted with disease and other woes untold, until they were
driven off again. Sickness was a sign that a person harbored
such evil spirits, which probably explains the injunction,
mentioned above, forbidding sick persons to enter a sanc-
tuary. So he was doubly unfortunate, and sometimes the
24 Die kultische Keuschheit *m. Altertum.
25 Cf. Origen, c. Cels. VII 3; Diodorus, XVI 26; Fehrle, pp. 7ff.
26 Tā āq poètoria utatuet, Porph. de Abst. IV 20. Hesych., s.v. &yvedetw.
kaðapečeuv diró red?poöta tow kal diró vexpo5. Cf. Hes. Op. 733ff. Fehrle, ch. ii.
27 See Wächter, pp. 2ff.; Fehrle, pp. 34ff.; 42ff.; Harrison, Prolego-
mena to the Study of the Greek Religion, ch. iv.; Bouché-Leclercq, in
Dict. des Antiq., art. ‘‘lustratio.”
13
positive and material miseries thus occasioned loomed up
larger than the alienation from God. At the very end of
Greek history, Porphyry, while discussing these spirits, wrote,
“because of them are purifications, not for inducing the pres-
ence of the gods, but in order that these things may keep
away.” But it is certain that possession by these spirits
also prevented men from approaching sacred things. How-
ever, the exact way in which the pollution was explained in
the mythology is not so important for the present study as is
the belief that it existed, and had to be washed away. What
were the methods by which this was accomplished ?
In some cases, it was very simple: mere washing was suffi-
cient. Thus, a basin of water was placed at the entrance to
the temple,” in which all who entered were supposed to wash
themselves; if their stains were not very great, this is all
that was demanded. In other cases, washing in sea-water
was required. Thus Iphigenia tells the king that she must
take the statue (which she is really planning to steal) and
the two polluted prisoners to the sea to wash them and thus
rid them of their pollution.” We shall presently see that
one of the great ceremonies of the Eleusinian mysteries was
the "AAabe putatat, in which all the participants purified
themselves in a lake of salt water. Sometimes the water of
mineral springs was supposed to have purifying virtues supe-
rior to those of ordinary water.” On certain occasions the
person or object to be purified, instead of being washed, was
merely sprinkled with water; branches of laurel or olive
trees were used for this purpose, just as the holy-water
sprinklers are used in the Catholic Church to-day. In case
28 Porph. de philos. ea orac. haur., p. 149 (quoted by Euseb. Praep.
Ev. IV 23, 3), kal Stå rotiro al āyveſat, où 6tà rows beobs trpoo`myovuévos, &AW ty
oirot &mogróort. The whole fragment is very important.
29 Wächter, p. 7; Dict, des Ant., art. “lustratio,” where pictures of
such basins are given; cf. art. ‘‘labrum.” .
30 Eur. Iph. Taur. 1193: 6á\aga'a k\}{et trèvra rāvépêtrov Kaká.
31 Gruppe, Griechische Mythologie- und Religionsgeschichte, p. 888.
14
a more thorough-going purification was deemed necessary,
this could be accomplished by fire; it was done by fumiga-
tion, frequently with sulphur.” On other occasions purifi-
cation was brought about by contact with very pure things;
laurel branches were used for this purpose in the cults of
Apollo, and olive in those of certain chthonian deities; some-
times the blood of a pig was used for this purpose.”
Such were the sorts of purifications which were demanded
of individuals in case they became contaminated in any way.
Just as the pollution had been individual, the purification
was individual; the polluted person might require a little aid
in the ceremonies, but that was all; the purification was
strictly an individual matter. However, there were other
occasions when the purification was collective: all of the citi-
zens of the community took part and were purified together.
In such cases the pollution was not traced to the fault of any-
body, but seems to have been due rather to the general wear
and tear of time; at certain times of the year it was felt that
a general cleaning up and driving out of all evil spirits was
desirable, so special rites were performed with this end in
view. One such time was the early spring or late winter,
just as the new life was beginning. Another was the time
of the harvest (which comes in May and June in Greece).
A third was the autumn. At each of these times there was
a great public ceremony, and though purification was not
always its only, or even its most prominent motive, elements
of this nature were always to be found, and were in all prob-
ability the most primitive part. Thus in the Greek month
of Anthesterion (= February), came the Anthesteria, which
was paralleled among the Romans by the ceremonies in con-
nection with the februa, or purifiers (whence our word Feb-
32 The Greek word for sulphur is 6eſov, and is therefore identical with
the word for divine, but this is accidental; it is supposed that the word
is related to 600, sacrifice. See Liddell and Scott, s.vv.; Il. II 228;
Od. x 481.
38 Aeschyl. Eumen, 283, 458ff.
15
ruary). Later, when the harvest was at its height came cere-
monies such as the Thargelia. Finally as the year was
dying came the Thesmophoria. In all of these feasts there
were elements of purification, though in classic times these
were frequently overlaid with a mass of other rites. In her
Prolegomena to the Study of the Greek Religion, Miss Harri-
son has been able to show that the primitive idea back of all
of these was purification and the placation of demons. A
consideration of these festivals is well worth our while, there-
fore, especially as their cleansing nature has been so fully
established by Miss Harrison that we can base our study
upon hers.” 4.
The Anthesteria was a feast to Dionysos. It lasted for
three days, the 11th to the 13th of the month, which three
days were known as Pithoigia (cask-opening), Choes (cups)
and Chytroi (pots). The three days were given over to
drinking, revelling and rejoicing, so that at first sight every-
thing seems to say that it was a simple wine festival in honor
of Dionysos. Nevertheless a certain note of sadness ran
through the whole ceremony, which should lead one to pause
to ask if it was really such a simple merry-making. An old
proverb preserved by Suidas strengthens this doubt, and
gives the clue to the real interpretation of the feast. We are
told that to those who were constantly demanding a repetition
of the favors formerly received, one said, “Get out, Keres, it
is no longer Anthesteria!” Keres is the Greek name for the
little sprites of which we have already spoken as causing ill-
ness, etc. Suidas, who preserved the proverb, says that “in
the Anthesteria, ghosts are going about the city.” This
shows us that originally the Anthesteria was an All Souls'
Day. The scholiast on Aristophanes quotes Theopompos,
84 Prolegomena, etc., ch. 2–4, pp. 32–162; cf. Dict, des Ant. and
Pauly-Wissowa, Real-Encyclopädie der klassischen Altertumswissenschaft,
under the various feasts; A. Mommsen, Feste der Stadt Athen.
35 Suid. s.v. 6&page 6&page kipes, oëk ºvu 'Avôearipta, dºs karū thy tróMy roſs
'Avôearmptots rôv puxāv trepiepkopévov. &
16
who said that at this feast they sacrificed to Hermes Chtho-
nios.” The lexicographer Photius, explaining the words
puapā fiftépa, “ day of pollution,” says that such a day oc-
curred “in the day of Choes in the month of Anthesterion,
in which they believed that the spirits of the dead rose up
again. From early morning they used to chew buckthorn
and anointed their doors with pitch.” Buckthorn was a
purgative, and would therefore drive out of the body whatever
evil spirits might be there;” as pitch was especially pure,
it would prevent their coming into the house. The Anthes-
teria, then, was primarily a festival of purification from
spirits, and more especially, the spirits of the dead. The
whole performance was but one example of a general form
of rite to which the Greeks gave the name évaytoºds, which
was intended to remove the stain of blood from a man and
thus purify him: the methods used were washings of one sort
or another, and sacrifices; each had the positive effect of puri-
fication.” At the bottom of this great festival of Athens,
therefore, was the idea of pollution and purification; as we
examine others, we shall find it in them, too.
After some months came another important festival, which
was known as the Thargelia, and which was an offering of
the first-fruits of the harvest. This, too, seems to have been
a time at which purity was deemed essential, and we conse-
quently find that a considerable part of the ceremony was
devoted to its acquisition. Thus, Diogenes Laërtius says in
his life of Socrates that “he was born on the 6th day of
Thargelion, the day when the Athenians purify the city.”
36 Schol. ad Ar. Ram. 218.
37 Photius s.v. Muapā huépa év roſs Xovolv’Avôearmpióvos unvös, év (; Öokoſſov
at puxal rôv teNeurma &vrov čvićvat, fiduvig $offew éuagóvro kai triartm Täs biºpas
ëxptov.
38 Porphyry speaks of evil spirits which “creep into those making
use” of impure things (eigõvovres roſs Xpoſuévois), de phil. eaſ orac. haur.
149.
39 For these évayuruot in general, see Harrison, pp. 55–76.
40 Diog. Laert. ii 4.
17
They did this through persons known as happarcoſ : Harpo-
cration remarks, “at Athens they led out two men to be puri-
fications for the city; it was at the Thargelia; one was for
the men and the other for the women.”* The way they did
this was to take some person, and by ritually heaping all the
impurities of the city upon him, to make a scape-goat of
him: he was pelted and driven out of the city, and the im-
purities went with him. The scholiast on Aristophanes says
that “the pharmakoi purified the cities by their slaughter,”
and then goes on to say, “for the Athenians maintained cer-
tain very ignoble and useless persons, and on the occasion
of any great calamity befalling the city, I mean a pestilence
or anything of the sort, they sacrificed these persons with a
view to purification from pollution and they called them
purifications (kaffāpuara).” For the details of this cere-
mony, we are indebted to a very late author, Tzetzes (A.D.
1150), who incorporated fragments of Hipponax, of the
sixth century B.C. He says, “they gave him cheese with
their hands and a barley cake and figs, and seven times they
smote him with leeks and wild figs and other wild plants.
Finally they burnt him with fire with the wood of wild trees
and scattered the ashes into the sea or to the winds, for a
purification, as I said, of the suffering city.” Whether or
not this human sacrifice was maintained in classic times, it is
hard to say; Miss Harrison thinks that it was,” but this view
is by no means universally accepted; it may very well be
that he was merely pelted and driven out of the city and for-
bidden to return. At any rate, the rite is clearly one of
purification, behind which is the same idea that is found in
the Christian conception of the atonement: that the punish-
ment of one may purify many from their stains. However,
there was no idea of an angry god to be appeased, nor of a
41 Harpocrat. s.v. papuakós .
42 Schoł. ad Ar. Eq. 1136.
43 Tzetzes, Hist. 23, 726ff.
44 Harrison, pp. 102ff.
3
18
vicarious sacrifice. The whole thing consisted in loading
all the pollutions upon the unfortunate scape-goat, and then
driving him out of the city; naturally the polluting spirits
went with him, and the city thus became purified.
A third ceremony, the last which we shall study here, came
in the fall, and was known as the Thesmophoria. It was per-
formed by women only. Like the Anthesteria, it lasted three
days, from the 11th to the 13th of Pyanepsion (= October–
November); these three days were known as the Kathodos
and Anodos (down-going and uprising), Nesteia (fasting),
and Kalligeneia (fair-born or fair-birth); on the first day
women who had already been purifying themselves for nine
days” went down into certain clefts or chasms, called uéyapa,
taking with them suckling pigs, which they sacrificed, and
bringing up the remains of last year's pigs; during the second
day, these remains were exposed upon the altar, while the
women sat about, fasting; on the third day, the rotten pig's
flesh was mixed with seed and strewn upon the fields. The
object of the rite is obviously to promote fertility: to this
end there were certain other rites, in connection with repre-
sentations of the male generative organ; it has also been sug-
gested that the squatting of the women on the ground was to
permit union with a chthonian deity, which had been pre-
pared for by their nine days of continence before and during
the feast.” We are told that they put branches of a purify-
ing and anaphroditic virtue on their beds.” Of especial in-
terest is the fasting, for this is the first time we have come
upon this popular form of asceticism. The Stoic Cornutus
writes, “they fast in honor of Demeter . . . when they cele-
brate her feast at the season of sowing.”* Athenaeus men-
tions the fast;” one of the Cynics says, “my friends are
45 Ovid, Met. 10, 431.
46 Cahen in Dict, des Ant., art. “Thesmophoria.”
47 Plin. His. Nat. 24, 59.
48 Cornut. de Theol. 28
49 Ath. 307 ff.
19
keeping a fast as if this were the middle day of the Thesmo-
phoria”; the fast had thus become proverbial.” A votive
relief has been found showing a procession of women bring-
ing gifts to the Earth-mother, who is crouching upon the
ground as the fasting women did on this day.” The reasons
for this fasting were undoubtedly, first, the presence of the
rotten pig's flesh; when so sacred a thing was present it would
be most unbecoming to eat profane things; and secondly, if
a worshipper did eat, she would greatly risk getting some
evil demon on her which would incapacitate her for taking
any further part in the ceremonies; nine days had been re-
quired to attain the required purity, and now extra precau-
tions had to be observed to retain it. It is remarked in the
passage already quoted from Porphyry” that these evil
spirits come at us when we eat and thus settle upon our
bodies;” so if one wishes to remain perfectly pure, he had
better abstain from eating. The two rites are obviously for
the attainment and preservation of that ritual purity which
is required of all those who approach sacred things.
Thus, it appears that in three of the most important reli-
gious ceremonies of Athens, great attention was given to
ritual purity. It had to be acquired by means of positive
acts, which demanded not only the time and attention of the
person to be purified, but also entailed a certain expense (in
case of a sacrifice) and positive renunciations; if the purity
thus acquired had to be maintained for any length of time,
this could be done only through further privations and cere-
monies. From the earliest times, therefore, there were per-
sons in Greece who believed that purity could be purchased
only at the price of real asceticism. . -
But as yet, only isolated rites have been described. The
50 Harrison, 126ff.
51 Ibid., p. 127, fig. 12; cf. Ath. Mitt. 1899, taf. viii, 1.
52 Supra, p. 13, n. 28.
53 Porph. de philos. ea; Orac. haur. p. 149 : kol yáp påXtoro, roºts trotoſs
rpoqois xo.ipovort, autovuévay Yâp juáv trpoolooru kot irpool; ávovort tº odºuart.
*~...~
20
same tendencies will be found, however, if one of the cults is
2 examined in its entirety. Let us take the mysteries of
/ Eleusis.” These formed one of the oldest cults in Greece,
and survived as long as paganism itself survived. As they
reach back into hoary antiquity, modern scholars have been
led to suggest that they were perhaps a relic of the old agri-
\cultural life of the Minoan period.” The mysteries were
subsequently taken under the protection of the city of Athens,
which of course added enormously to their dignity. Their
priesthood became more important, and their rites were so
celebrated that they were sought by people from all over the
world.” In Hellenistic times they were taken as one of the
signs of the unity of the Greek-speaking world. Though con-
tinuing to exist down to the very end of Greek civilization,
they underwent but little development after the seventh cen-
tury B.C.; in character the rites always remained rather
primitive.
According to Isocrates, the mysteries reminded the Atheni-
ans of the two benefits which they had received from Deme-
ter, the goddess to whom they were dedicated: first, agricul-
ture, and secondly, the initiation which gave a hope of a
blessed immortality.” The rites had originally (if we are
to trust modern scholars) the purpose of increasing the fer-
tility of the land and of assuring good crops; participation in
them assured the participant of a happy life beyond the
54 The best book on the mysteries is Foucart, Les Mystères d’Eleusis
(1914). Cf. Harrison, pp. 540–572; Dict, des Antiq. (art. “Mystères,”
“Eleusinia’’). s
55 Foucart, ch. iii, and pp. 248ff.
$6 Foucart, pp. 263ff.; Dict, des Antiq.
57 Isocr. Panegyr. 28: [Ahuntpos] §otons àopeãs 5urrës attep uéywrrow rvy-
xávovoruv oboot, robs re koptrots, of row paſſ &mptočás $ºv huàs oriruot yeyóvoort,
Kozi rāv re)\erāv, is oi ueroaxóvres trepi te ris toū 8tov re)\evris Kozi too otpatroºvros
otóvos jótovs rās &Xtrióos éxovalv. Cf. Hymn. in Cer. 480–2: ÖABuos, 3s rā5
6traorév čtrux'}oviaju ävěpátrov' 6s 6 &rexis tepēv, 6s r’ ãuuopos, oitroë Spotov
oforov gyet bötuevös rep inró (644 hepôevrt. Cf. Aristoph. Ran. 154–8, 448–459;
Soph. apud Plut. de Aud. Poet. 4; Cic. Leg. II 14, 36; Dict. des Ant.,
art. “Eleusinia’’ VIII, “Les mystères et l'autre vie.”
21
grave. The ceremonies consisted in a dramatic representa-
tion of the myth of Demeter. * *
There are two points in which these mysteries are of in-
terest to us, first, the purity required of all who sought initia-
tion, and secondly, the higher purity demanded of the priests
during the period of the great mysteries.
Only those were admitted to the initiation who had under-
gone a certain preparation. In the first place, those wishing
to be initiated had to go through the “lesser mysteries” be-
fore they could be admitted to the greater; in the course of
these preparations, the candidates were purified and washed
in the Ilissos River.” As this was done at the end of the
month of Anthesterion, it was over six months before the
definite initiation took place. When the second part, or the
Grand Mysteries, arrived, the preparation was continued.
First the candidates were instructed in the myth of Demeter,
without a knowledge of which the rites would be unintelli-
gible; as this was kept a profound secret by the mystics, only
those who had been initiated knew it. A certain interpreta-
tion of the myth was also taught. But the main point was
the ritual preparation, which was much more complicated
and rigorous than anything we have yet seen. At the very
beginning the herald forbade “whoever does not have clean
hands.” Before this the candidates had been observing a
fast—which purified their hands; for several days they had
taken no form of food, so long as the sun was in the heavens.
There was a myth that while seeking her daughter, Demeter
had refused all food and drink for nine days, and it was sup-
posed to be in memory of this that the mystics fasted; how-
ever the myth is clearly aetiological, that is, it was invented
* Polyaen. Strat. W 17: röv'IAlgoëv, où rév kočapuāv rexoſal roºs axárrog.
avarmpiots. Schol. ad Ar. Plut. 845: £ari ră utkpá ſuvarhpua) &rep irporáðap-
orus koci ºrpoãºyvevous róv HeyāXaov.
59 The exact formula is preserved by Theon of Smyrna, p. 22: ré ºff-
puypto rotºro knpörrero:t &otis rās xeſpons ºf kat}opós.
22
afterwards to explain the rite, and not vice versa.” They
were especially strict about certain foods; the mystagogues,
or teachers, were constantly saying, “If you eat this or that,
you are not pure,” Among the things specially forbidden
were a kind of shark (Yaxeds), mullet (épw8pivos), crayfish
(cápagos), a certain sea-fish, “black tail” (Hexduoupos), red
mullet (TpſyM)); at least some of these were foods especially
sought after by the Greeks of the fourth century.” But for
a variety of reasons, they were held to be impure, so could
not be eaten by those who wished to be pure.”
It was on the 15th of Boedromion that they assembled at
Eleusis, and the herald made the proclamation mentioned
above. On the following day took place the most important
rites of purification, which went under the name of “3Xabe
pºiſotat,” “to the sea, mystics,” the shout which accompanied
the principal ceremony. The mystics, who had returned
from Eleusis the day before and were then at Athens, went
and purified themselves by washing in the sea, and by sacrific-
ing a pig previously purified by immersion in the sea. The
blood of these animals was considered a most powerful agent
of purification, for it was thought to attract all the evil spirits
irresistibly and to hold them.* Each person had to have a
pig of his own; thus the purification was individual, but
being performed simultaneously by the whole group, was the
60 However, Foucart (p. 284) here as always insists that the mytho-
logical interpretation is the true one. Of course he is correct in saying
that they explained their fasting by the myth; but the real reason why
they fasted was because it was customary, and because they thought
that the act gave positive virtues, etc.; they later invented or adapted
the myth to explain their acts.
61 Cf. Liban. Corinth. p. 356: kot ióta TráXtv ré et row Koºt row # et roße
&yetaco, où kočopós rápet, Kozi troXXh rotºrov tropä Tots pivoto. Yoyots &TuéNeto.
62 Foucart, p. 287.
63 Thus the shark was thought to be impure because it laid its eggs
by the mouth, the black-tail because it ate disagreeable food which other
fish did not eat; on the other hand, they abstained from red mullet
because of its fecundity, which they honored, etc., cf. Foucart, p. 285.
64 Foucart, p. 294. - -
23
more powerful. The bodies of these pigs were then burnt
and the ashes scattered. During the fifth century, a feast in
honor of Asklepios was introduced into the ceremony which
retarded the return to Eleusis by two days. As the purity of
the participants had to be maintained all this time, unusual
precautions were necessary. The mystics could not appear
in public, but shut themselves up in their houses, giving them-
selves over undoubtedly to fasting and abstinences; it was a
veritable retreat.”
It has been inferred by some, from the aetiology of the
IHomeric Hymn to Demeter, that there were other rites of
purification, at least for children, which consisted in passing
through fire; but there is little positive evidence for this.”
A further point which has been urged is the meaning of
the word mystery itself. The ancients related the word to
pivo, “I shut my eyes and ears and lips,” so mysteries were
things secret and not talked about. However, Miss Harrison
suggests a better derivation. She connects it with the word
Putaos, a pollution, and makes the “mystery” a ceremony of
purification from pollution. Lydus makes the same sug-
gestion: “mysteries,” he says, “are from the taking away of
a pollution (wúoos) as equivalent to purification.” At any
rate, it is clear that purification was an essential element of ſ
the mysteries. -
In addition to this purity of those to be initiated, there was
a higher grade which had to be attained by the priests.
Arguing from a passage in Pausanias, some have maintained
65 Foucart, p. 295; Aristot. Constit. Ath. 56.
66 Harrison, pp. 156ff.; F. B. Jevons, Introd. to the Hist. of Rel., ch.
xxiv app.
07 Harrison, p. 154. Lyd. de mens. TV 38: uvorrhoto &ró rās a rephorea's
toū utorous āvri rās &ywooivns. Cf. Clem. Al. Protr. ii: uvorrhoto. . . . &rö roß
ovuòeffmkóros rept rôv Atóvvorov učaſovs. ‘‘ ‘Mysteries’ (ought to be de-
rived) from the pollution relating to Dionysos.” Cf. Eur. Suppl. 470:
Xüoovto: oreguá a reguárov and El. 87: čk 9600 uvorrmptov.
24
\
that an absolute celibacy was required of them.* We have
already seen that similar demands were made upon the
priests and priestesses in various other cults, but it is
not certain that it was an absolute demand in this case.
Quite the contrary, we have an inscription from Eleusis
which is the dedication of a votive offering raised to a hiero-
phant by his wife.” This came from the first century B.C.,
so if Pausanias is right, the celibacy requirement is a later
addition. What is more probable is that continence was im-
posed upon the priests for the period of the mysteries only.
At any rate, it is clear that at least this much was required,
so we may say that a special purity was demanded of the
priests.” These special restrictions for the clergy are better
shown, however, in the class of priestesses known as the
iépetal travayets. The few literary sources which we have
show us that they were celibate and lived in common.” A
story of the legendary epoch depicts them united in a banquet
after the sacrifice.” When the sacred objects were taken
from Eleusis to Athens, it was they who carried them during
the crossing of the Rheitan lakes, according to a decree of
421.** On other circumstances, they were associated with
the hierophant and under his direction, as during the proces-
sion of the Kalamaia.” At Eleusis they dwelt in houses
belonging to the Two Goddesses (Demeter and Kore) and
68 Speaking first of other mysteries, he says (II 14): i.epodávrms & obk as
röv 8tov Trávro &troëéðeukrow, kord, 6& &Kāormv reMerºv &XXoré £orrup &XXos orghioty
oiperós, Mouflávov, #v čáAm, koi Yvvoſtko. kol roºro. Suádopo ròu èv "EXevolvi
vout; ovat, rā Śē is oſtrºv Tºv re)\evrºv čkelvov čariv is utumou.
69'Iepoqāvūrmv) Meveſk\letónv Geo®huov Kvějoºmvaſtéo, yvyi).-Bull. de corr.
hellen., 1895, p. 128; Foucart, p. 173. - *
70 Cf. Arrian. Dissert. Epict. III 21: obk to 3%rn &xets, jv Šeſ róv iepodáv
rmp, . . . obz inveuko's &s treſvos. ("Ayvos here is castus).
71 Hesych.: IIovoye’s ‘’A&#vnot iépetal iépeto, #rts of uto’yerot &vôpt. Bek-
ker, Anecd., p. 212: āyos koi rô riulov kot &#tov orefláguaros é of ai iépetov
ăvoye’s kot &ym rà uvorrhoto: kot &A\o rivá. p. 330: £ of koi iépetov troºvoryeſs.
72 Demo, frg. 1, in Didot, F.H.G. I. 378.
7s Ath. Mitt., 1894, p. 163.
74 C. I. A. IV, p. 122.
25
were supported at their expense.” They were not ordinary
priestesses, but rather resembled a religious community de-
voted to the Two Goddesses. Some have recognized in them
the Bees (Méxicoat) of which Porphyry and several gram-
marians speak.'" At any rate they represent the nearest
approach to a genuinely ascetic life which is to be found
in early Greece.
The various facts which we have set forth are amply suffi-
cient to prove that ideas of pollution and purity are to be
found in the Greek religion at all the stages of its develop-
ment. It is perfectly certain that the Greeks had the idea º
that there were some things which were incompatible with
the gods, and which therefore could not be brought into con-
tact with anything which pertained to the gods. And not
only were they incompatible with the gods themselves, but as
this characteristic of theirs was to a high degree contagious,
nothing which had been in close contact with them could ap-
proach sacred things either, without a preliminary purifica-
tion. Now when this idea is once firmly established we have
the foundation of all asceticism: the sole end and aim of the
ascetic is to keep himself as free as possible from all these
pollutions, and to be constantly purifying himself from those
which he has incurred in spite of all his precautions. To º
this end, he removes himself as far as possible from the
sources of pollution, he “flees the world,” and gives himself
over to prayers, fasts, vigils and other purificatory exercises,
in order that he may remain pure, and approach as nearly as
possible to the divine. But this definition would tend to
make all men ascetics; the injunctions which we have been
observing were applicable to all alike: if their mere ob-
servance makes men ascetics, the whole population of ancient
Greece would consequently have been such. Now as will be
seen in the course of this study, there actually is a certain
75 C. I. A. TV, p. 203, l. 81: Eis rās iepās otºlo's raisiepelots ºvo&poro.
76 Foucart, pp. 214f.
26
asceticism immanent in the whole religious life, but it would
undeniably be an abuse of language to carry the point to this
extreme. The practical distinction is this: all men are pol-
luted from time to time and must be purified—all men sin
and must do penance, to put it in Christian terms—but the
great majority are not especially scrupulous about the matter,
and if the great stains are washed away, and a fair average
of purity is maintained, they are content to let it go at that;
but some persons are more careful, and are not content with
this average purity; they want to raise themselves to a still
higher degree of purity, and therefore submit themselves
to all sorts of extraordinary penances and abstinences;
these are the veritable ascetics. We have found examples
of these, too, and we have observed some primitive cults in
which it was required that there be certain persons who main-
tained a state of purity above that of ordinary people. We
are justified in saying, therefore, that these persons were
ascetics.
In the first place were the priests, for whom there were
extraordinary regulations in regard to purity, and especially
in regard to chastity: we might say that the priests who lived
up to these regulations were ascetics, for by acts of renuncia-
tion and abnegation, they sought to attain a purity higher
than that with which the ordinary person was content. The
Eleusinian mysteries, too, tended in this direction, for not
everybody was initiated; those who were did it because they
wished to be unusually pure, and because special rewards, in
the form of immortality, were promised to those who attained
to this degree of purity; we have also seen the ascetic ele-
ments in the rites conferring this purity. Finally there can
be no doubt of the genuinely ascetic nature of the restrictions
placed upon the Eleusinian priesthood, and particularly upon
the priestesses known as the iépétat Travayeſs: here we have
the essential features of a veritable monastic life.
Other cases of early Greek asceticism are sometimes men-
27
tioned. Thus Herodotus and Pindar mention a certain
Abaris, a Hyperborean, who is said to have gone all around
the world on an arrow, fasting;" later writers associate him
with Pythagoras,” so there may have been other ascetic
features to this performance; his fasting may have helped
give him the supernatural power required for such a feat.
Another celebrated ascetic of early times was Epimenides,
who purified Athens in the latter part of the seventh cen-
tury;” his fasts and his general ascetic form of life are told
by Diogenes Laërtius and others.” But none of these men
added anything new : they are merely further examples of
what we have already seen, and only serve to make more
certain our contention that ascetic tendencies existed in
Greece from the very earliest times.
As to the origin of these ascetic tendencies we can say
almost nothing. In his recent work on the mysteries of
IEleusis, Foucart has argued that the rites were introduced
into Greece from Egypt.” One of his proofs of this is their
asceticism, which he compares with that of the devotees of
Isis and Osiris; he even claims that fasting was a rite un-
known to other early cults in Greece (he includes the Thes-
mophoria with the Eleusinian rites, as being in honor of
Demeter).” So it may be that this cult, with its fasts and
its asceticism, was introduced from Egypt; but in any case,
the introduction took place very early (at least fifteen hun-
77 Herod. iv. 36; Pind. frg. 270. Cf. Plato, Charm. 158b, where he is
mentioned as a wonder-working physician. References in later litera-
ture are numerous.
78 Jamb. de Vit. Pythag. xix. $91.
79 Or perhaps the end of the sixth; cf. Pauly-Wisowa, s.v.
80 Diels, Frag. der Vorsokrater, II, pt. i., pp. 489ff., esp. 490, Il. 16ff.,
492, 25ff., 493, 4ff.; Rohde, Psyche, II 96ff.; W. Capelle, Altgriechische
Askese, in Neue Jahrbücher für das klassische Altertum, 25 (1910),
p. 683.
81 Foucart, Pt. I; cf. Harrison, pp. 120ff.; this was the belief of the
ancients themselves, Herod. ii. 171.
82 Foucart, pp. 62ff.
28
dred years before Christ according to Foucart), so we may
say that it was a part of the religion of Greece at the earliest
period with which we are acquainted. It, and the other
forms of asceticism which we have signalized, were a part
of the Greek religion from the very start.
But really there is no occasion to point out a specific origin
i for all these forms of asceticism, since they all are to be found
in practically every known religion. Wächter and Fehrle
give numerous citations from secondary works establishing
parallel rites and beliefs in other religions. The asceticism
which we have been describing shows remarkable similarities
with that found in the most primitive peoples of whom we
have any knowledge.* -
Nor does it make the slightest difference to the present
study what their origin was. As has already been clearly
stated, this chapter is merely introductory; it is intended to
summarize the work of previous scholars who have made
special studies of early Greek religion. Their conclusions in
regard to the origin and interpretation of these rites have
been mentioned in passing, but it cannot be emphasized too
strongly that the remainder of our study does not depend in
any way upon the truth or falsity of these conclusions. All
that this chapter has sought to establish is that at an early
period, the Greeks had very decided notions of purity and
pollution, and that from these, they deduced a theology which
at times demanded genuinely ascetic acts. If this has been
established, as we believe that it has, the foundation is laid
for the higher developments of ascetic thought among the
Greeks, which is the subject of the present study.
83 Cf. Durkheim, The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life, Bk.
III, ch. 1, pp. 299ff. (Eng. tr.).
• *ºtº..….,
CHAPTER II
AscFTICISM IN THE ORPHIC MOVEMENT
The facts which we have been discussing so far all originate
in the most primitive and ancient form of the Greek religion
which we can know. But though primitive, they did not
pass away with primitive Greece; on the contrary, they re-
mained as a substratum of the Greek religion throughout the
course of its history. As Greek society advanced, however,
*the religion naturally developed also. And about the eighth
century, such an advance did begin to be noticeable. At this
time began the period of commercial expansion and coloniza-
tion. The Ionian cities and particularly Miletus took the
lead, but others in Greece proper came close behind. Thus,
the relative isolation of former times was broken down to a
certain extent, and the intelligence of ordinary men was
raised; an extensive reorganization of society then became
necessary, above all in the intellectual world." This social
movement also had its effects upon the Greek religion. Ac-
cording to Gruppe, an oriental mysticism entered Greece at
this time.” New cults arose, and old ones were transformed.
At this time, too, the religion became more diversified; with
the larger number of cults, different sorts were offered, and a
person could choose, to a certain extent at least, the one to
which he would give his closest allegiance. Thus, some peo-
ple developed the religion of the Olympian gods, but there
were others who were not satisfied with this. The old long-
ing for purity remained in their hearts, but their old rites
1 For this general movement and its repercussions upon philosophy
and religion, see Eduard Meyer, Gesch. des Altertums, II, Bk. 3, pp.
533–762; Busolt, Griechische Geschichte, I, ch. 2, pp. 127–509.
2 Gruppe, Gesch. der griech. Mythologie, I $72.
29
30
a
could no longer satisfy it—nor could Olympus, in spite of its
glorious splendors. So a new religious movement came over
Greece in the seventh and sixth centuries B.C., which was a
continuation and revival of the old native religion, and also
a development upon it. “The essence of the new religion
was the belief that man could become god: the new ritual
feature it introduced, a feature wholly lacking in the old
uneaten “sacrifice,’ was mystical communion by eating the
body of the god. But as man was mortal, there was mor-
tality to be purged away; and hence, although with a new
faith and a new hope, men reverted to the old ritual of puri-
fication.”
The first representative of this new religious movement to
appear in Greece was the religion of Dionysos. Though there
may have been an old Greek god of somewhat the same nature,
the real Dionysos cult seems to have been introduced into
Greece from Thrace, between the ninth and sixth centuries.
In Thrace, the cult was adapted to the wild and savage nature
of the country and its people, and had a highly orgiastic char-
acter. It was celebrated upon the mountains at night, in
the midst of burning torches, tumultuous music and loud
cries; the rites were performed mostly by women, who danced
and revelled thus until they, like the Mainads whom they
impersonated, became quite beside themselves. Being wholly
unable to account for this extraordinary madness which thus
seized them, they attributed it to the god; he was thought
of as “insane.”
When the cult was introduced into Greece, it was long a
scandal; the more sober Greeks did not at all approve of their
women carrying on in such a way on the mountains at night.
3 Harrison, Prolegomena, p. 162, cf. p. 478. .
4. For the Thracian rites of Dionysos, see Rohde, Psyche, II, ch. i-ii.
Foucart, Le Culte de Dionysos en Attigue, in Mémoires de l’Academie
des Inscriptions et Belles Lettres (1904), ch. 2; and the articles on
“Dionysos” in Pauly-Wissowa, Roscher and the Dictionnaire des An-
tiquités. The references to Dionysos in classic writers are collected in
Farnell, Cults of the Greek States, V, pp. 280–334.
*
31
But gradually the rites became softened and toned down;
Dionysos became civilized. He became associated with wine
(undoubtedly because of the similar effects of these two forms
of inspiration) and presently found himself one of the most
popular gods of Greece. The details of his cult do not inter-
est the present study, for it hardly seems probable that this
ecstatic religion of a wine god should be of importance for
the development of ascetic ideals. This was not entirely the
case, however. For its rites led its worshippers to believe in
an external god, with whom it was possible for an individual
to unite himself: the Bacchantes felt the god within them,
they believed themselves inspired. This led to the develop-
ment of several beliefs in regard to the possibility of union
with god, sacraments, and the immortality of the soul, all of
which were put to use by later ascetical theologians.” But
the chief importance of the Dionysos cult for the present
study lies in its later developments, particularly Orphism.
Here there was real asceticism.
The origins of Orphism are by no means clear, but one
thing at least seems certain, namely, that it was born of the
religion of Dionysos, and in fact, was a higher spiritual devel-
opment of it. Legend had it that, like the religion of Diony-
sos, Orphism originated in Thrace. Ancient and modern
writers, however, have suggested various other sources: some
have noticed resemblances with Egyptian practices; others
with the mysteries of Samothrace; some have claimed Phryg.
ian or Cretan origins; a connection with Pythagoras has been
*
*
claimed by others; while if we are to take the word of the
early Christians for it, Orpheus derived practically all his
doctrine from the books of Moses." There is probably a cer-
tain element of truth in all of these conjectures except the
* For the influence of Dionysos, see also Capelle, in Neue Jahrbb. f. kl.
Altertum, 25 (1910), pp. 684ff. -
6 References to authors who have supported these views will be found
in Monceaux, in Dict. des Antiq., art. “Orphici.”
32
last; in the course of their evolution, the Orphics probably
did adopt elements from all of these various sources. But
during the early stages of the history of the sect, these were
all so well assimilated and adapted to the needs and desires
of the Greek people that the religion was in no way a foreign
one, but was so thoroughly Hellenic in its nature that some
have been led to deny a foreign origin at all. This is, how-
ever, an untenable position; modern scholars are pretty gen-
erally agreed upon the Thracian origin of Orphism."
Tradition had it, too, that the religion was founded by
Orpheus. The legends concerning this singer were numerous
and varied, but they do not concern us here, any more than
the much-disputed question of the historical existence of
Orpheus does: it makes little difference to us whether he
really existed, as Miss Harrison has recently maintained, or
whether he did not, as others, since the days of Aristotle, have
held.* The first literary references to Orphism are in Tby-
cos (c. 560) and Pindar (c. 490);” during the latter half of
the sixth century the earliest Orphic books known were
composed or collected.” So we can state that during
the sixth and following centuries the Orphic cult spread
throughout Greece, and then proceed to what is the important
thing for us, namely, that Orphism was a religion seeking
consecration or the attainment of divine life, that it laid the
7 Ancient authors who held this opinion include, Strabo, p. 330;
Herod. ii. 81; Eur. Hippol. 953; Apollod. I 3, 2; Diod. III 65; Plut.
Alea’. 2; Procl. In Plat. Remp. p. 398; Macrob. Sat. I 18, 17; In Somn.
Scip. I 12, 12. **
8 Cic. De nat. deor. I 38, 107: Orpheum poetam docet Aristoteles
numquam fuisse, et hoc orphicum carmen Pythagorei ferunt cuiusdam
fuisse Ceropis.--This text may signify that Orpheus never existed or
merely that he was not a poet; the former is the interpretation gen-
erally accepted. See also Gruppe, in Lea. d. griech. w. rôm. Mythologie,
art. “Orpheus” and Monceaux, in Dict, des Antiq., art. “Orpheus” and
“Orphici’’; Harrison, pp. 470ff. -
• Ibyc. fr. 9 Bergk; Pind. Pyth. IV 716 (315).
10 Suid. s.v. 'Opoets; Clem. Al. Strom. I 21; Paus. I 22, 7; etc.
33
greatest emphasis upon purity and purification and upon the
blessed immortality to which they led, and that to this end
a mode of life which was, theoretically at least, far more
ascetic than anything which had yet appeared in Greece was
taught.
It is in these doctrines that we are able to see the connec-
tion and also the profound differences between this religion
and that of Dionysos. Both worshipped the same deity; both
shared in beliefs which were not universally held by the
Greeks; Orpheus passed as a reformer of the Dionysiac reli-
gion.” But “in the whole Church of Dionysos-Bacchos,
the Orphics formed a mystic Church, an élite of the devout,
for whom the essential thing was doctrine, purity of life, and
preparation for death and future existences.” Therefore,
though Orphism was born of the religion of Dionysos, the
two were also very different. Nothing shows this better than
the nature of the cult. While the worship of Dionysos en-
couraged tumultuous and ecstatic manifestations, the Orphics
adopted the contrary attitude. In an inscription discovered
on the Acropolis are preserved the rules of an Orphic sect;
among the rules we read that “within the place of sacrifice
no one is to make a noise . . . but each is to say his part
in all quietness and order,” and, moreover, if anyone does
make a disturbance, he is to be taken out.” The Orphic cult
was “a worship fair and orderly.” With the Orphics, the
things of highest importance were doctrine and the observance
of an ascetic life; as we shall see, their doctrine was a real
contribution to the history of Greek thought, having had an
enormous influence upon no less a thinker than Plato, and
the mode of life which followed as a result of this doctrine
was destined to no less important a rôle in subsequent his-
11 Diod. III 65. **
12 Monceaux, loc. cit., p. 248.
18 The inscription was published in Ath. Mit. xix (1894), p. 248.
14 Cf. Harrison, p. 476. .
4
34
tory. As the whole formed a unified system, we must begin
by a brief examination of the general theology of the Orphics.
The sources of our knowledge of Orphic doctrine are vari-
ous, and of varying value. The best source is the literature
which was produced by the sect; large numbers of poems,
either cosmological, theological, mythological or liturgical,
were written during the one thousand years which separated
the fourth century A.D. from the sixth B.C., of which three
complete works and numerous fragments still remain.”
During the course of its history, Orphism was greatly influ-
enced by various contemporary movements of thought, and
unfortunately most of the literature which we now possess
comes from the very end of the whole development. But on
the other hand, the value of these late poems as illustrative
of earlier thought has frequently been too greatly depreciated:
several years ago a number of tablets of very thin gold were
discovered in tombs in southern Italy, dating from the fourth
or third century before our era, and inscribed with Orphic
teachings;” previously these doctrines had been known only
from writings coming from the fourth century A.D., so at
a stroke their antiquity was augmented by 700 years. These
tablets are our most important source for the earlier Orphism:
as they were buried with the dead, the information they im-
part is chiefly eschatological, but there is much that is litur-
gical, and in either case, they well illustrate Orphic thought.
In addition to these and the earlier portions of the Orphic
poems, we have several passages, either expressly or obviously
referring to Orphic beliefs and practices, in contemporary
Greek literature. So taking what sources we have, let us
attempt a brief sketch of Orphic theology.
15 The three works are the Argonautica, Lithica and the Orphic
Hymns; the fragments have been collected by Abel, Orphica (Leipzig,
1885) and Vari, Nova Fragmenta Orphica (Wien. Stud. XII, p. 222).
16 See the textual discussion of these tablets by Gilbert Murray, in
Harrison, Prolegomena, appendix, pp. 660-674. -
35
To begin with, we must say that “the Orphic philosophy
undertook to give an answer to the two great questions which
tormented the Greek mind after the sixth century: an explana-
tion of the world, and the destiny of man. On the one hand, ,
the Orphics gave a cosmological and theological system, and
on the other a metaphysical doctrine of the soul.” Into the
details of their theogony and cosmogony it is not necessary
for us to enter; it is sufficient to say that the earliest forms
of these doctrines did not differ markedly from those of
Hesiod on the same subject. In general, the whole thing,
both theogony and cosmogony, is very confused, and it is
hardly worth our while to attempt to unravel it.
Their anthropogony, however, is more important, for in
this a belief fundamental to later asceticism, the dual nature
of man, is very clearly stated. According to the myth,
Dionysos was a favorite son of Zeus, but one day when he
happened to be in the form of a bull, he was caught and torn
to pieces by the wild Titans, themselves of divine ancestry,
who thought to gain dominion over the world thus;* his
heart alone was saved, which Zeus ate and presently brought
forth a new Dionysos. But the Titans had to be punished,
so Zeus destroyed them with his thunderbolt. From their
ashes men were made. So to this day men are of a double
nature: on the one hand they, like their ancestors, are of
divine origin, but on the other hand, they are descended from
the wicked Titans, and their forbears' sin is upon them.
Like the Christians centuries later the Orphics believed, there-
fore, in the original divinity of man and in his fall, and in
the doctrine of original sin. Pindar speaks of this fault as
f
17 Monceaux, loc. cit., p. 249.
18 The part which the old Dionysiac rite of tearing a bull asunder and
eating its raw flesh, the Omophagia, had in the development of this
myth has been shown by Miss Harrison (p. 495). The Orphic could
not bring himself to give up the old savage rite of daubing himself
with white clay and eating raw bulls, but he did invent a new myth to
explain it and give it a high spiritual significance.
36
the Taxatów Trév60s;” Jamblichus refers to it as the pleyd Na
àpaptijuata.” Before their fall the Titans had lived with
the gods, but as a result of their sin, their descendants were
exiled from this blissful abode, and condemned to terrestrial
life. Though they retained their souls, the symbol of their
divinity, a body was forced upon them, too, which is the sign
of their fallen nature, and, as it were, the prison of the soul
(body = a&pia ; prison = a fina).”
The soul, thanks to its divine nature, is immortal, and the
hope is held out to it that it may at length regain its original
state. The Orphic eschatology shows this very clearly. In
the Orphic tablets and the “Nekyia.” in the eleventh book of
the Odyssey (which was clearly of Orphic origin”), we have
descriptions of the other world as they imagined it. In the
latter, we read of the punishments of motorious sinners, such
as Tantalus and Sisyphus; in the former we find directions
for the pure as to how they are to proceed. Both from the
tablets and other early Orphic literature it is evident that
the two main features of their eschatology were the ideas of
future rewards and punishments for acts committed in this
life, and that of the transmigration of souls. If one strives
earnestly to regain the primitive purity, he will succeed at
last, and will then dwell forever in some Happy Isles, or
perhaps in heaven itself; but until that time, he is doomed
to pass from body to body, even entering animals. If his
deeds during life are good, he will have a better host next
time, but if they are bad, his next abode will be much worse.
19 Fr. 110 Bergk.
20 Prof. VIII 134.
21 This idea is referred to the Orphics in Plato, Cratyl. 400c; cf.
Phaedr. 62b; Procl. In Plat. Remp. 372; Jambl. Prot. VIII 134. The
dual nature of man is illustrated by the Orphic tablet which makes the
soul say, upon arriving in Hades (tr. Gilbert Murray, in Harrison, op.
cit., p. 661):
‘‘I am a child of Earth and Starry Heaven;
But my race is of Heaven alone.’’
22 Dieterich, Nekyia, pp. 75ff.
37
This made up what they called the “circle of generation”;
everyone should try to escape it and enter the Happy Isles,
and the way to do so is to follow Orphic teaching.” Those
who have read the early church Fathers will see that Origen,
in his great work, de Principiis, did little more than copy
this; nor was the influence of Orphic theology upon early
Christians confined to Origen alone; its influence, direct and
indirect, upon the development of Christian theology, was
immense.”
These two ideas were fundamental to Orphic theology: the
primitive purity and subsequent fall of man, and the possi-
bility and desirability of regaining this purity; these were
the ideas which were at the basis of their entire rule of life,
and we shall see that this rule was a genuinely ascetic one.
So purity was their goal, but how did they seek to attain it?
In the first place, all who wished to be pure had to have
themselves initiated. Those who had been initiated called
themselves the “Holy Ones” or the “Pure Ones”: initiation
by itself gave purification. After death those who had been
23 These beliefs are well summed up in three of the Orphic tablets
found at Compagno, which give the formula to be spoken by a ‘‘pure
one’’ upon reaching Hades. Murray reconstructs the formula as fol-
lows (l. c., p. 670):
“Out of the Pure I come, Pure Queen of Them Below,
And Eukles and Euboleus, and other Gods and Demons:
For I avow me that I am of your blessed race.
And I have paid the penalty for deeds unrighteous,
Whether it be that Fate laid me low or the Gods Immortal
Or . . . with star-flung thunderbolt.
I have flown out of the sorrowful weary Wheel;
I have passed with eager feet to the Circle desired;
I have sunk beneath the bosom of Despoina, Queen of the Under-
world;
I have passed with eager feet to (or from) the Circle desired;
And now I come a suppliant to Holy Phersephoneia
That of her grace she may receive me to the seats of the Hallowed.—
Happy and Blessèd One, thou shalt be God instead of Mortal.’’
24 See Dieterich, Nekyia, Beiträge zur Erklärung der neuentdeckten
Petrusapokalypse (1893, 2 ed., 1913).
*
*
38
initiated would receive a fairer fate than others, even in case
they did not succeed in attaining heaven; while awaiting a
new incarnation, they would enjoy a privileged lot in Hades.
However, initiation by itself was not enough; it was also
necessary to perform other purifications and fasts, to fulfil
certain rites and follow a special regimen, and more than that,
personal piety was also essential. -
In describing the efforts of the Orphics to attain purity, we
may begin by quoting two very important passages from Eurip-
ides. The first is a fragment of his lost Cretans, preserved
by Porphyry; some one says:
“Robed in pure white, I have borne me clean
From man’s vile birth and coffined clay,
And exiled from my lips alway
Touch of all meat where Life hath been.”
The second is less sympathetic; Theseus denounces the Orphic
Hippolytos for his self-righteousness, crying:
“Now is the day ! Now vaunt thee, thou so pure
No flesh of life may pass thy lips' Now lure
Eools after thee; call Orpheus King and Lord,
Make ecstacies and wonders | Thumb thine hoard
Of ancient rolls and ghostly mysteries.”
Another illuminating passage is found in Aristophanes's
Clouds, in which the comedian deliberately parodies the
Orphic mysteries. Old Strepsiades seeks Socrates, and finds
him suspended in a basket—that he may be free of earthly
things and give himself over entirely to heavenly ones!”
In these three passages the essentials of Orphic asceticism are
observable: on the One hand, purity is sought by pure clothes,
by keeping away from contaminating things and by eating cer-
25 Tr. Miss Harrison.
26 Eur. Hipp. 952ff, tr. Harrison.
27 Ar. Nub. 223ft. That this scene parodies Orphic ritual is shown
by Dieterich, Rh. Mus. 1893, pp. 275ff.; Harrison, pp. 512ff.
39
tain foods only; on the other is the more far-reaching proposi-
tion that all matter, and all material and worldly things are
impure and consequently to be avoided. In the first place are
the same old taboos which we have already found in primitive
Greece: Herodotus tells us that the Orphics could not wear,
or at least could not be buried in woollen clothes;* we read
that eggs were forbidden them; like many other persons, they
were careful not to pollute themselves by eating beans.” But
even more important was their aversion to all flesh; this is
explained by their belief in the transmigration of souls, which
led one to believe that he might be eating a departed friend
if he tasted meat. In all of these things, however, they dif-
fered from the other Greeks only in degree; the great con-
tribution of the Orphics was their doctrine by which they
rationalized these performances. By their depreciation of
the body and of all matter generally, and by their emphasis
upon spirit and mind and their divine nature,” they drew a
sharp distinction between the real world and a spiritual world
which they imagined; by their teaching of the infinite supe-
riority of the latter—in fact, that the former had been created
merely as a punishment for sin—they prepared the way for
that “other-worldliness” which occupied so great a place in
the religion of Europe for centuries to come. They clearly
taught that the world was bad, and that if one would seek true
and eternal felicity, he must forsake it, he must keep himself
as pure as possible from this world of death which is a prison-
house.
But their practice was not so rigorous as their teaching.
They never went to the extremes of the Buddhist and Chris-
28 Herod. II 81.
29 Seixot, irávösixa, Kväuov &rö xelpos éxegºat.—This sentiment is attrib-
uted by different authors to various persons, especially Pythagoras and
Empedocles, but by some to Orpheus; see Diels, Frg. d. Vorsok. I 214,
no. 141.
80 Cf. Procl. ad Cratyl. p. 82: 6 ºv juïv voús Atovva workös Baru koi & Yaºua:
6vra's roi, Atovířorov. -
40
tian ascetics, even though they did share their doctrine; ab-
stention from flesh food was their most rigorous self-mortifi-
cation. They fled the world in theory alone, and were conse-
quently called hypocrites by some.
Nor was there, in a strict sense of the term, such a thing
as an organized Orphic sect. There was a body of Orphic
doctrine, whose limits were always vague and floating, and
there were, in various parts of the Greek world, persons or
groups of persons who accepted this doctrine, making more or
less of an attempt to live according to it. But organized sect
there was none: the doctrine, partly philosophical and sci-
entific, partly theological and ascetical, the chief thing which
actually existed. So Orphism was never so popular as the
religion of Dionysos; according to the testimony of Plato,
there were numbers of disreputable parsons who attached
themselves to the movement and went around selling “puri-
fications” and other quacks of one sort or another, but in the
main Orphism appealed only to an élite.
Closely associated with Orphism was another movement of
avery similar character, Pythagoreanism. This doctrine was
founded by Pythagoras, who lived in southern Italy. It is
said that he had been profoundly interested by Orphic
thought, and it is certain that his system of speculation does
present many points in common with Orphism. Chief among
these are the doctrines of the transmigration of souls and
asceticism, including abstinence from all flesh and beans.
But Orphism knows nothing of the mathematics which was
so important for Pythagoras, and it is doubtful whether the
Orphics ever achieved an organization comparable to that of
the Pythagoreans.
In regard to the doctrines of the early Pythagoreans, we
are even worse off than for those of the Orphics: practically
all we know of them is derived from writers who lived in the
time of Christ or later (while Pythagoras lived five centuries
before) and whose ideas were greatly influenced by the Neo-
41
Pythagoreans who flourished during the first centuries before
and after the Christian era. By this time, ascetic thought
had undergone a tremendous development in the Hellenistic
world; also at this same time everybody was most anxious to
attribute his ideas to some very ancient person. Conse-
quently the various lives of Pythagoras merit little confidence.
But from the earliest sources still preserved, it is clear that
the Pythagorean movement was largely religious. Its pur-
pose seems to have been to give its members a more adequate
satisfaction of their religious desires; it was for the “culti-
vation of holiness.” Also, it appears that Pythagoras
“ desired to effect, chiefly by the aid of religion, a reform
of the moral life.” To this end, he developed still further
the old idea taken over by the Orphics from the devotees of
Dionysos, and taught that “men are in the image of God.”
He made a rule of life,” which his followers should observe,
and which has been summed up in the frequently quoted
words étrov fleó ;” to follow God and beeeme—like-him is
Pythogoras's highest ideal.”
In this rule of life, asceticism played a considerable rôle.
Of course all that the Neo-Pythagoreans attributed to their
hero is not to be accepted as historically true; these reports
are frequently contradictory, as when Diogenes Laertius says
in one place that he “knew neither love nor drunkenness,”
and a few pages later speaks of his wife.” One of our early
authorities, Aristoxenos, is even quoted as saying that he
preferred beans to every other vegetable;” but his prohibi-
31 Burnet, Early Greek Philosophy, p. 97.
82 Zeller, Philosophy of the Greeks to Socrates, I 355.
** Themist. Or. xv. 192b: elkövo, trpès 3e3v etvai &věpátrovs. - Clem. Al.
Strom. v. 55.
84 Plato speaks of Pythagoras as the originator of a 636s ris8tov, Rep. X
600b.
35 Plut. de Aud. I 37; Clem. Al. Str. v 390D.
36 Plut. de Supers. 9, 169.
37 Diog. L. viii 19 versus 42. Cf. Clem. Al. Str. iii 435c.
38 Apud Gell. iv. 11, 5.
42
tion of them is so well attested that this statement must be
set aside, unless, as has been suggested, there was a sacra-
mental meal, to which Aristoxenos is confusedly referring,
in which the sacred vegetable was solemnly eaten; but there
is no other evidence for such a sacrament. In general, the
things which Pythagoras tabooed were things which the
Orphics had tabooed before him: in this side of his teaching
he merely follows them, as is implied by Herodotus in the
passage already quoted.” But from numerous passages in
the Middle Comedy, it is evident that in the fourth century
before Christ, there were plenty of people who practiced
asceticism in his name.”
We have seen that the Orphics devoted considerable atten-
tion to speculation upon the world, and even to developing a
philosophical theology. The Pythagoreans too devoted them-
selves to such speculations from the very first. It is not
necessary to describe their elaborate number-philosophy here:
Zeller has conclusively shown that the later ideas in regard
to the One being God, spiritual and good, and the Dual being
material and bad, do not date from the earliest times.”
However, in the emphasis which they laid upon speculation
(in which they followed and developed upon the Orphics),
the early Pythagoreans did contribute to the development
of ascetical thought. Pythagoras divided men into three
classes, the bºdicépèets, or lovers of gain, the blººdtuou, or
./ lovers of honor, and the ºbt)\ógoſpot, or lovers of knowledge;”
Z of these, only the last were really lofty persons. He also
/ taught that scientific, and especially mathematical study is
/ the best purifier of the soul; it is a means of escape from the
“wheel.” This idea runs through all the rest of Greek
history, constantly developing, until we get to such persons
39 Herod. ii. 81.
40 These are collected in Diels, Frg. d. Vorsok, pp. 291ff.
41 Zeller, Op. cit., p. 397.
42 Diog. Laer. viii 6.
43
as Apollonius of Tyana, who regarded themselves as suc-
cessors of Pythagoras, and for whom the ideal wise man was
wholly detached from the world. Early stages of this thought
are found in Socrates, Plato and even Aristotle; it was upon
this feature of Socrates’s teaching that the Cynics fastened,
and from them came the ideal of the Stoic sage and the
Christian saint.” Here is the beginning of the tendency to
turn from the things of “this world” to “higher” things,
which is the essence of asceticism. -
There is one other representative of this general movement
who must be mentioned here, Empedocles. He is generally
classed as a philosopher, but only a slight acquaintance with
his thought is sufficient to show his close relations with the
Orphics and Pythagoreans. It is said that in his youth he
was affected by Orphism, and that at a later period he came
under the influence of Pythagoras; one of the fragments,
which refers to some great man in very glowing terms, is
supposed to refer to him.** At any rate, he wrote a long
poem with the good Orphic title “Purifications,” several
fragments of which have been preserved. In this, the doc-
trines of the fall of man, the body as a punishment, the trans-
migration of souls, purification by asceticism, and the possi-
bility of final reconciliation with God are clearly taught. In
the Introduction to his poem he says that there is a decree
of Necessity that whoever of the demons polluted his hands
with bloodshed or strife or perjury must leave the abode of
the gods for three thousand seasons, passing from one form of
mortal to another; such a one the author himself claims to
be, an exile from God and a wanderer.” He says else-
48 Burnet, Early Greek Philosophy, p. 89f.; Greek Philosophy, Part I
p. 41. -
44 Frg. 129 Diels.
* Frg. 115: ágriv'Aväykms xpfiuo ,
elité ris àpatrºomimoru dºwe $lxto: Yuto: pathwm,
[Netket 8" &s k(e) éiríopkov &goprāgo's brouðron,
6oziuoves oire uokpo.icovos AéNáxoat 8towo
44
where “from what honor and from what length of bliss have
I come to mortals, falling to earth,” and again “I wept
and wailed upon seeing this uninhabitable land,” and “we
have come into a roofed-over cave.” The body is an un-
natural garment.” Men are in a fallen state. Closely con-
nected with this is the doctrine of the transmigration of souls.
“Already I have been a boy and a maiden, a bush, a bird
and a mute fish in the sea.” Men are therefore related to
animals, and the eating of flesh is consequently forbidden;
“will you not stop this hateful slaughter? do you not see that
you are eating one another in your thoughtlessness?” In
one fragment he attributes his then unhappy state to his
having eaten flesh: “alas, that ruthless time did not destroy
me before the abominable act of taking meat across my
lips!” But improvement is possible, and is to be accom-
plished by following the rule of life which he sets forth:
“happy is he who possesses the riches of divine wisdom, but
he is miserable to whom the doctrine is dark.” If people
do follow this way of life, they shall at last “appear among
mortal men as prophets, song-writers, physicians and princes;
and thence they rise up as gods exalted in honor, sharing the
hearth of the other gods and the same table, free from human
woes, safe from destiny and incapable of hurt.”
Tpis puu plvptors &poſs &trö uokápaw &Aá\mat}ot,
qvogévous troºvroto: Övö, xpóvov eiðeo. 9pm ròv
&pyo Méd's 8tórowo uéro: \\áo govto: kexeiðovs . . .
Tôv kozi čºyd, vov eipt, qvyås &eóðev kot &Xàtims,
Neiket plouvouévg triovvos.
46 Frg. 119.
47 Frg. 118.
48 Frg. 120.
* Frg. 126: gopków &\\oyvårt treptoté\\ovgo, Xvrövt.
50 Frg. 117.
51 Frg. 136.
52 Frg. 139.
53 Frg. 132: 3X3tos, 8s 3etov irportöcov čktha oro TVoûrov,
ôet\0s 6', 3 okotóeggo Jeſºv repi 66% uéum Nev.
54 Frgg. 146–7.
45
In the rule of life which he laid down, ascetic features were
prominent. Not only did he forbid flesh food, but he also
placed a taboo upon beans” and laurel.” In these things he
is merely following the model of the old injunctions for purity
which dated from the most primitive times. But he also
tended to put a spiritual interpretation upon some of them:
thus he said, “Fast from evil.” Finally, he says in one
of the fragments of his other poem that the four roots of all
things are Zeus, Hera, Aidoneus (i. e., Hades) and a goddess
named Nestis, “Fasting,” “who moistens with tears the well-
spring of mortals.” Diogenes explains these elements as
fire, earth, air and water,” but why Empedocles raised an
otherwise unknown goddess of this ascetic name to so im-
portant a place is not clear, unless it be that he wished to
emphasize the ascetic exercise whose name she bore. It has
been suggested that she was some form of an oriental goddess,
for example, Isis weeping for Osiris, or perhaps that she was
connected with the Adonis myth.” In this case we would
have a Greek thinker at least giving recognition to a myth
which teaches one of the most highly spiritualized forms of
asceticism: the doctrine of purification or forgiveness after
mere weeping and sorrow. This interpretation of Em-
pedocles's remark, however, is only hypothetical.
As we pointed out at the opening of the present section, the
people who were interested in the movements which we have
55 Frg. 141.
B6 Frg. 140.
* Frg. 144: vna reſigot Koſkörnros.
* Frg. 6. Téa ooſpo. Yêp Távrov štºucero, trpárov &kové
Zeis &pyńs "Hon re depéggios #3’ ‘Atjovets
Nñaris 3', i. 6akpious réyyet kpotvouo. Boötetov.
* Diog. Laër. viii 76: Ato uév rô Túp X&yov, "Homy 34 rºw yºv, 'Awāovéo. 6&
rów &épa, Nāarty 6) ré úðap. Burnet, Early Greek Philosophy, p. 264m.
argues that Diogenes has mixed these, and that Zeus is really the air
and Hades fire; this seems very plausible.
60 See Dieterich, on Hilgenfeld, Die Grabinschrift des Aberkios er-
klürt, in Berliner Philologische Wochenschrift, 1897, p. 394.
46
just been describing were probably descended from the old
population, and who had been able to raise their status and
intelligence somewhat (but not too much) thanks to the eco-
nomic developments of the seventh and sixth centuries;
their religion was largely a continuation and a development
of the primitive rites of purification which we described in
the first section of our essay. But at the same time there
were other streams of thought in Greece, to the eminent repre-
sentatives of which the title of philosopher is generally given.
We must not assume, however, that there was absolutely no
interaction between the two schools: on the contrary there
seems to have been a good deal of it. Nevertheless, it is
generally possible to distinguish them, because after all, their
thought was quite different, and appealed to different classes
of persons. In Periclean times, the Orphics were not very
high-class persons, but the sophists were.
That this distinction was not a hard and fast one, and not
always even a possible one, is shown in the first place by the
fact that the early philosophers, Thales, Anaximander,
Heraclitus, etc., were influenced to a considerable extent by
Orphism, and that it in its turn was influenced by them,”
and in the second place by the fact that it is not always pos-
sible to say which group a given man belongs to: thus we
have classed Pythagoras and Empedocles in the “Orphic”
group, though they are generally called philosophers, and
other sides of their doctrine, which we have ignored, certainly
entitle them to such a name. But in general the philosophers
paid but little-attention-to-the-old-beliefs about purification
and fasting and asceticism; the most that they did was to
develop doctrines which were later utilized for this purpose
by others. Heraclitus was one of the few who did mention
61 Rob. Eisler, Weltmantel und Himmelsgelt, ii. pp. 661ff., 693–706;
Cornford, From Religion to Philosophy, chap. vi; Kern, in Hermes, xxv
1ff.; Diels, in Archiv f. Gesch, d. Phil., ii. 91ff.; Burnet, op. cit., index
s.v. Orphics.
47
these purifications, and what he said was “those who when
stained purify themselves with blood do as if some one who
had stepped into the mud should wash himself with mud.”
These pre-Socratic philosophers did render one service,
however. They supplied the word asceticism. The original
meaning of the word &aketu, as used by Homer, was to
“work” or “fashion” raw materials. Thus he speaks of
“working” wool (maketv eipta, y288) and of “worked ” yarn
(väua &oºmtos, A134). From this was derived a secondary
meaning, to work upon oneself, that is, to “practice” or
“exercise” and especially to “train.” Now from the days
of Hesiod, it had been taught in Greece that virtue could
be attained only by labor.” Democritus gave the name
ão knots to this sort of labor. While he also uses the word in
other senses,” he says in one passage that “more are good
from training, asceticism (āorkmats), than nature.” Simi-
larly Protagoras says that “one should receive education
from nature and training.” This was therefore the mean-
ing of the word “asceticism'' when it was first introduced
into the vocabulary of philosophy.
62 Frg. 5 Diels.
** Hes. Op. 287 ff.: Tºv uév toº kokörnro, koi i\o:5öv early &Aéoùot
Antôlos Aelm uév 666s, uáNo. 3' by yööt vote,
tàs 3 &perås ióporo. Jeot Tootápotºev £9mkov
&öävotot porkpós 6è Kazi Špi}tos olpos és obt?v
kol rpmxts to trpárov étrºv 8 els ákpov tºmtat,
fimučim 6% tretto. TréAet, xo:Netri, trep toãoo.
*4 Thus in one place (frg. 110), he uses it in conjunction with X&Yos
for ‘‘to talk.” The same meaning of “use” is given the word in
frg. 53a.
* Frg. 242: TAéoves # &akhotos &Yoºol yt yovrat # &ró díjatos.
* Frg. 3: bioecos kal &akhorea's Ötöda koxto: Seiret. Cf. frg. 10; Critias, frg.
9. Cf. Capelle, in Neue Jahrbb. f. kl. Alt., 25 (1910), p. 697, n. 2.
CHAPTER III
AscETICISM IN PLATO
The preceding chapters of this essay have been devoted to
a study of the ascetic features of the religion of early Greece.
We have found numerous interdictions of the most elementary
sort, greatly resembling the taboos found among all primitive
peoples; we have seen that any approach of such interdicted
things to a person polluted that person; he who would remain
pure had to keep away from them. It has also been seen
that a person polluted in this way had to undergo purifica-
tions which were sometimes of a most stringent sort, demand-
ing acts of veritable asceticism. An unusual degree of purity
was demanded before important religious acts, the attainment
of which required, at times, fasting and continence. It has
been seen, too, that back of practices was a belief in evil
spirits, which were supposed to reside in the tabooed things,
and which attached themselves to a person’s body whenever
they got a chance, polluting it and thus making it impossible
for that person to approach sacred things; back of the whole
thing, therefore, was a division of the world, or at least of
the spiritual world, into two parts, one good and the other
bad, one fas and the other nefas, and the belief that these two
worlds, or two orders of spirits were so radically hetero-
geneous that they could not even approach one another. As
to the why and the wherefore of all this, these primitive
peoples did not ask; persons in their intellectual stage seem
to take it pretty much for granted.
During the seventh and sixth centuries, however, a new
religious movement came over Greece, which was marked by
the appearance of new cults, and which showed a great ad-
48
49
vance in the religious development of Greece. One example
of these new cults is found in Orphism. The followers of
this religion retained the old rites and purifications and
abstinences, but explained them by the theological system
which we outlined above: a theory of the world was drawn up
which made asceticism seem not only a natural but also a
highly desirable thing.
But there is still a third stage in the evolution of early
Greek ascetical thought, and after that, as will be seen, there
was very little for succeeding generations to add. This third
stage is found in the asceticism of Plato; in it, the ascetic
tendencies which we have been studying were united and
clarified and reduced to a theory, and this theory so closely
united with the then universally accepted of the world,
that Plato's thought remained the source from which ascetical
theologians drew their doctrines for centuries to come. It
is therefore of the highest importance for us to understand
Plato's doctrine on the subject. But this portion of his phi-
losophy is so closely related to all the rest, and his whole
philosophy is in a way so much the product of his time, that
we must have these accompanying features clearly in mind
before turning to his strictly ascetical thought.
The gradual expansion of Greece during the eighth and
following centuries, and the effect which this had upon the
development of Greek religion and thought, have already been
noted. In the fifth century this process continued at an even
more rapid rate, and at the same time numerous internal
causes cooperated to bring about even greater upheavals in
Greece. As the present study is not a social history of Greece,
there is no need for describing these developments in detail,
and it will be sufficient to say that after the times of Marathon
and Salamis, new tendencies appeared and nothing was ever
quite the same in Greece again. The old petty rivalries of
the city-states tended to be forgotten to a certain extent, and
the new ideal of Hellas began to arise; the isolated agri-
5
50
cultural communities began to break up, and with them de-
parted the old superstitions which had formerly bound men;
an era of enlightenment ensued—an era to which no parallel
can be found previous to the nineteenth century. The new
demands for education brought into being a new class of men,
called Sophists, whose business it was to impart this educa-
tion. During the fifth century, these sophists were the in-
tellectual leaders of Greece, and it was their liberalizing
instruction which brought about the intellectual revolution
of the century—it is a most noteworthy fact that the true
nature of the sophists was first recognized, and that they were
first raised from the general opprobrium to which Plato's
diatribes had consigned them for a period of over two thou-
sand years, by a historian, Grote, who was himself a radical
of much the same sort, and that the most brilliant account
of their work which we possess was written by another still
more radically-minded thinker, Gilbert Murray." It is hard
for us to imagine the revolutionary effect which this teaching
must have had upon Greece, and particularly upon Athens,
but as it is hard to find anything that was immune from their
criticism, its consequences must indeed have been far-reach-
ing: when Protagoras taught that “man is the measure of all
things,” pretty much all the old moral values must already
have been overthrown. The sophists at least brought intel-
lectual freedom, but perhaps they brought anarchy too. Then
came the Peloponnesian War, and Athens was defeated. In
spite of her freedom, in spite of her enlightenment, in spite of
her culture, in spite of her lofty ideals, such as those ex-
pressed in Pericles's funeral oration, Athens was defeated.
Though no doubt her soldiers were just as brave and just as
strong as her enemies', something was wrong; some people
laid this to the work of the sophists, which, they claimed, had
weakened Athens. Perhaps they were right, too; perhaps
1 Grote, History of Greece, chap. lvii; Murray, Euripides and his Age,
pp. 44–58 and passim.
51
the sophists were partially to blame for the eternal quibbling
which was Athens's ruin; perhaps it is true that the ideals
which they taught, though lofty, were “machtlos,’ were unable
to inspire men to put forth their best efforts, to sacrifice any-
thing and everything for their sake, and that from that ultra-
pragmatic point of view which teaches that truth is not only
what “works’ but also what makes us work, they were de-
ficient. At any rate, as soon as the war was over, it became
evident that further intellectual reform was an urgent neces-
sity, and at just this moment Plato appeared.
Plato was descended from one of the old aristocratic fami-
lies of Athens,” and of his loyalty to his city, we can have
no doubt. The old story of the heroic deeds of the Athenians
in times forgotten, which he relates at the beginning of the
Timaeus, is a proof of this. In one passage” he speaks very
highly of Isocrates, singling him out from among all the
sophists as one who might eventually come to be something,
which might suggest that Plato was interested in the pan-
Hellenism of the fourth century, of which Isocrates was so
eminent an advocate, but in any case his first loyalty was
always to Athens. He was not blind to the faults of her
citizens, and was perfectly willing to criticise many of the
things which they held dear, but notwithstanding this,
passages too numerous to mention, in which he speaks of her
beauty and grandeur, should convince us that the fate of
Athens was always near his heart. But, as has been pointed
out, Athens had just been defeated; this fact, and his love
for his city, were the main-springs of all Plato's activity.
His great purpose in all his work was to rehabilitate the city
in its ancient splendor, and to make possible once more that
former glory, which now seemed to be gone. Our first witness
is the attention he gave to political philosophy, and his efforts
2 See Plato's genealogy, given in Burnet, Greek Philosophy from
Thales to Plato, Part I, p. 351.
3 Phaedr. 279.
52
to conceive an ideal state which would point out to his fellow-
citizens how to make their city great again; the attention he
gives to defenders, to military preparedness, shows where his
real interest lay. Again, his antipathy to the sophists is thus
explained; others at the time were blaming them for Athens's
weakness, and it is probably the case that Plato, too, all un-
consciously perhaps," felt that they, and especially their
damnable teaching, were to blame for his city’s fall, and that
he hated them accordingly. At any rate, his onslaught upon
their ideas is enough to show that he felt that it was a matter
of the highest concern that they should be refuted; why was
he so zealous in this, if not that he thought that it would do
some good to somebody?
It was a firm belief of Plato, and of the Greeks in general,
that to act rightly, one must think correctly, that right think-
ing precedes right acting: if men do wrong, it is because
they think wrong. Thus Plato says that “no man is volun-
tarily bad; but the bad become bad by reason of an ill disposi-
tion of the body and bad education.” Consequently, if one
would improve morally, he should improve himself intel-
lectually; a few lines below, Plato continues, “we should
endeavour as far as we can by education, and studies, and
learning, to avoid vice and attain virtue.” It is no wonder,
then, that when Plato set out to better the condition of his
city, he first attacked what he considered a vicious philosophy
and then urged the study of true philosophy. Let us see
exactly what he wished to reform.
The sophists had been radical empiricists: they had main-
tained that nothing existed which could not be perceived by
the senses. Thus Protagoras taught that “man is the meas-
ure of all things.” Carried into the moral field, this doc-
4 Cf. Rep. VI 492, where it is denied that the sophists were corruptors
of youth. But cf. the parable of the mutinous crew (§ 488) which is
rather obviously directed at the Athenians, and especially the spirit of
the sophists.
b Tim. 86, 87. Here, as elsewhere, Jowett’s translation is followed.
53
trine led to a denial of the existence of moral ideals, goodness,
justice and the like; Euripides was then able to say that
“nothing is either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”
It was this denial of the real existence of ideals which aroused
Plato's greatest antagonism, and we shall see that his affirma-
tion of their real and absolute existence is the very heart of
his philosophy.
There was a second doctrine which was a particular abomi-
nation to Plato: this was Heraclitus's teaching that nothing
is stationary, but that everything flows. In Plato's day, it
was only too obvious a fact that everything was changing, and
this was the cause of his concern. It was true that many
things, yes, all visible things did change incessantly, but
Plato would not admit that there was absolutely nothing
stable, nothing enduring in the whole universe. When this
doctrine of eternal change was applied to everything—to the
ideals of the good, the true, the beautiful, and the like—
people were going too far, it seemed, and Plato protested. If
there really were nothing constant and in the world, then
science, knowledge, learning from experience, law, justice,
and society itself would be impossible, and perhaps the then
unhappy state of the Athenians was due to their great desire
for change. Plato, on the other hand, held that there was
much that was desirable in the past, and tried to show that
there were things which were unchanging.
This leads us to a third point: the sophists, like the philoso-
phers who preceded them, had but little respect for the reli-
gion of the past—as was but natural. But this did not seem
quite right to Plato either. To be sure, he would have been
glad enough to get rid of the Olympians and their chronique
scandaleuse, but it seemed to him that there was much that
was worth preserving in the old religion of his people. There
is a sort of piety that runs through the dialogues which is
hardly what we should expect from the rationalizing and em-
pirical sophists—“I too believe that the gods are our guar-
56
vº
*,
\
mortal, and unintelligible, and multiform, and dissoluble and
g
,
A.
r
Thus he arrives at the conception of a dual world: the sen-
sible or visible world, and the world of ideas, or the intelli-
gible world. But the intelligible world is not only the world
of ideas; it is also the world of changeless things; moreover,
it is the only real world. “That which is apprehended by
reflection and reason always is, and is the same; that, on the
other hand, which is conceived by opinion with the help of
sensation and without reason, is in a process of becoming and
perishing, but never really is.” So there can be no doubt
as to the infinite superiority-of-the-intelligible-world over the
_sensible one, and the highest aspiration that a man can have
is to live in this other, superior, ideal-world.
*~~~... -
“This is that life above all others which a man should live, in
the contemplation of beauty absolute; a beauty which if you once
beheld, you would see not to be after the measure of gold, and
garments, and fair boys and youths, which when you now behold
you are in fond amazement, and you and many a one are content
to live seeing only and conversing with them without meat or
drink, if that were possible. . . . In that communion only, be-
holding beauty with the eye of the mind, he will be enabled to
bring forth, not images of beauty, but realities. . . . Would that
be an ignoble life?”
But how is a man to live this life “in the contemplation
of beauty absolute”? This leads us to a discussion of Plato's
anthropology. Like the world, man is dual: just as “the
seen is the changing and the unseen the unchanging,” so “the
soul is more like the unseen, and the body to the seen.”
“The soul is the very likeness of the divine and immortal,
\ and intelligible, and uniform, and indissoluble, and unchange-
able; and the body is the very likeness of the human, and
|
!
changeable.” Thus we find the two parts of man, the soul
16 Tim. 28.
Yº--..
17 Symp. 211–2.
18 Phaed. 79.
19 Phaed. 80.
57
and the body, of which the soul is unquestionably the superior
part; it would be better if the body could be dispensed with
altogether.
“The soul is dragged by the body into the region of the change-
able, and wanders and is confused; the world spins round her,
and she is like a drunkard when under their [the senses’] influ-
ence. . . . But when returning into herself she reflects, then she
passes into the realm of purity, and eternity, and immortality,
and unchangeableness, which are her kindred, and with them she
ever lives, when she is by herself and is not let or hindered; then
she ceases from her erring ways, and being in communion with
the unchanging is unchanging.”
The similarity with Orphic views is obvious here, but it
becomes still more so if we turn to his theory of how the soul
came to be in the body, for he, as they, believed in a Fall and
that the body is a punishment. He speaks of a former “state \
of innocence, shining in pure light, pure ourselves and not ,
yet enshrined in that living tomb which we carry about, now
that we are imprisoned in the body, as in an oyster-shell. Let
me linger thus long over the memory of scenes that have
passed away.” y
Connected with this is his further acceptance of the Orphic
doctrine of the transmigration of souls. Like the Orphics,
Plato believed not only in rewards and punishments after
death for acts committed during this life—“for I have good
hope that there is yet something remaining for the dead, and
as has been said of old, something far better for the good than
for the evil”—but he also believed in the transmigration
of souls into higher or lower animals, or else advance to fel-
lowship with the gods after death: low persons after death
enter into asses, wolves, etc., “but he who is a philosopher
or lover of learning, and is entirely pure at departing, is alone
20 Phaed. 79. .
21 Phaedr. 250.
22 Phaed. 83, cf. 107ff., esp. 113.
56
sº
…”
f
J
.”
f
Thus he arrives at the conception of a dual world: the sen-
sible or visible world, and the world of ideas, or the intelli-
gible world. But the intelligible world is not only the world
of ideas; it is also the world of changeless things; moreover,
it is the only real world. “That which is apprehended by
reflection and reason always is, and is the same; that, on the
other hand, which is conceived by opinion with the help of
sensation and without reason, is in a process of becoming and
perishing, but never really is.” So there can be no doubt
as to the infinite superiority-of-the-intelligible-world over the
sensible one, and the highest aspiration that a man can have
is to live in this other, superior, ideal-world.
“This is that life above all others which a man should live, in
the contemplation of beauty absolute; a beauty which if you once
beheld, you would see not to be after the measure of gold, and
garments, and fair boys and youths, which when you now behold
you are in fond amazement, and you and many a one are content
to live seeing only and conversing with them without meat or
drink, if that were possible. . . . In that communion only, be-
holding beauty with the eye of the mind, he will be enabled to
bring forth, not images of beauty, but realities. . . . Would that
be an ignoble life?”
But how is a man to live this life “in the contemplation
of beauty absolute’’’ This leads us to a discussion of Plato's
anthropology. Like the world, man is dual: just as “the
seen is the changing and the unseen the unchanging,” so “the
soul is more like the unseen, and the body to the seen.”
“The soul is the very likeness of the divine and immortal,
\ and intelligible, and uniform, and indissoluble, and unchange-
< able; and the body is the very likeness of the human, and
mortal, and unintelligible, and multiform, and dissoluble and
| changeable.” Thus we find the two parts of man, the soul
\
16 Tiºm. 28.
17 Symp. 211–2.
18 Phaed. 79.
19 Phaed. 80.
57
and the body, of which the soul is unquestionably the superior
part; it would be better if the body could be dispensed with
altogether.
“The soul is dragged by the body into the region of the change-
able, and wanders and is confused; the world spins round her,
and she is like a drunkard when under their [the senses’] influ-
ence. . . . But when returning into herself she reflects, then she
passes into the realm of purity, and eternity, and immortality,
and unchangeableness, which are her kindred, and with them she
ever lives, when she is by herself and is not let or hindered; then
she ceases from her erring ways, and being in communion with
the unchanging is unchanging.”
The similarity with Orphic views is obvious here, but it
becomes still more so if we turn to his theory of how the soul
came to be in the body, for he, as they, believed in a Fall and
that the body is a punishment. He speaks of a former “state \
of innocence, shining in pure light, pure ourselves and not ,
yet enshrined in that living tomb which we carry about, now
that we are imprisoned in the body, as in an oyster-shell. Let
me linger thus long over the memory of scenes that have)
passed away.” .*
Connected with this is his further acceptance of the Orphic
doctrine of the transmigration of souls. Like the Orphics,
Plato believed not only in rewards and punishments after
death for acts committed during this life—“for I have good
hope that there is yet something remaining for the dead, and
as has been said of old, something far better for the good than
for the evil”—but he also believed in the transmigration
of souls into higher or lower animals, or else advance to fel-
lowship with the gods after death: low persons after death
enter into asses, wolves, etc., “but he who is a philosopher
or lover of learning, and is entirely pure at departing, is alone
20 Phaed. 79.
21 Phaedr. 250.
22 Phaed. 83, cf. 107ff., esp. 113.
58
permitted to reach the gods.” I am “persuaded,” says
Socrates, “that I am going to other gods who are wise and
good (of this I am as certain as I can be of anything of the
sort), and to men departed (though I am not so certain of
this) and are better than those whom I leave behind.” In
the Phaedrus, again, he develops at length his theory of the
Fall from seeing the truth, the struggle to attain that happy
state again, and the passage, meantime, through various ani-
mals: ordinary people will return to their former state of
bliss after 10,000 years, but lovers and philosophers after
only 3,000.”
This gives us a hint as to what Plato considered the way
of progress, the way to purify oneself and return to one's
original exalted state, as to what he considered man’s highest
activity: this was philosophic speculation. In good Greek
wise, he held that the only way to have one act correctly was
to have him think correctly, whence the great emphasis he
placed upon philosophy: teaching this was, according to his
opinion, the only way to improve men. Therefore he re-
quires that the guardians of his ideal state shall be philoso-
phers: it is the highest form of activity which any man can
follow: the finer sort of minds identify wisdom and the
good.” This is the ultimate standard of value: “is there not
one coin for which all things ought to exchange?—that is
wisdom; and only in exchange for this, and in company with
this, is anything truly bought or sold, whether courage or
temperance or justice.” Elsewhere, he says that “the
study of philosophy is the noblest and best music.” “For
‘many,’ as they say in the mysteries, “are the thyrsus-bearers,
but few are the mystics,'—meaning, as I interpret the words,
23 Phaed. 81.
24 Phaed. 63.
25 Phaedr. 248–9.
26 Rep. VI 505.
27 Phaed. 69.
28 Phaed. 61.
59
the true philosophers.” Phaedrus is made to say, “What
motive has a man to live if not for the pleasures of discourse?
Surely he would not live for the sake of bodily pleasures,
which are rightly called slavish.”
“And therefore the mind of the philosopher alone has wings;
and this is just, for he is always, according to the measure of his
abilities, clinging in recollection to those things in which God
abides, and in believing which he is what he is. And he who
employs aright these memories is ever being initiated into perfect
mysteries and alone becomes perfect. But as he forgets earthly
interests and is rapt in the divine, the vulgar deem him mad,
and rebuke him; they do not see that he is inspired.”
But, after all, the best proof of what Plato thought of
philosophers and their work is shown by the glorious future
which he promised them.
“He who has lived as a true philosopher has reason to be of
good cheer when he is about to die, and after death he may hope
to receive the greatest good in the other world.”
“Those who are remarkable for having led holy lives are re- .
leased from this earthly prison, and go to their pure home, which º'
is above, and dwell in the purer earth; and those who have duly
purified themselves with philosophy live henceforth altogether >
without the body, in mansions fairer far than these, which may
not be described, and of which time would fail me to tell. . . . L.
do not mean to affirm that the description which I have given of
the soul and her mansions is exactly true—a man of sense ought
hardly to say that. But I do say that, inasmuch as the Soul is
shown to be immortal, he may venture to think, not improperly
or unworthily, that something of the kind is true. The adventure
is a glorious one, and he ought to comfort himself with words
like these, which is the reason why I lengthen out the tale.
Wherefore, I say, let a man be of good cheer about his soul, who
29 Phaed. 69.
30 Phaedr. 258.
31 Phaedr. 249.
82 Phaed. 64.
L
60
has cast away the pleasures and ornaments of the body as alien to
him, and rather hurtful in their effects, and has followed after
the pleasures of knowledge in this life; who has adorned the soul
in her own proper jewels, which are temperance, and justice, and
courage, and truth—in these arrayed she is ready to go on her
journey to the world below, when her time comes.”
But it must not be assumed that everybody was supposed
to be a philosopher, or even could be one: only a chosen few
might aspire to such a rank. Others, if they attempted phi-
losophy, would only degrade it, as the sophists did: “all
those mercenary adventurers, whom the world calls Sophists
and rivals, do but teach the collective opinion of the many,
which are the opinions of their assemblies; and this is their
wisdom.” “The world cannot possibly be a philosopher?
Impossible. And therefore philosophers must inevitably fall
under the censure of the world? They must.” All can-
not be philosophers, but he that is able to receive it, let him
receive it.
Such, then, seem to have been the fundamental concepts of
Plato's philosophy: the real existence of ideas, and particu-
larly of ideals, which form a separate and superior world, and
which are known by the mind alone; the inability of most
people to see these clearly, or at all; the ability of the phi-
losopher to see them, and the joy which this gives him, both
here and hereafter. Let us see how all this is connected with
his asceticism.
In the first place, we must point out that though there are
many passages, some of which we shall quote, which teach a
depreciation of the body, there are also many which encour-
age its development, which teach the ideal of a “mens sana
in corpore Sano.” He never criticises gymnastics, but he fre-
quently does praise them: “that is the best of the purifica-
tions of the body which is effected by gymnastic.”
33 Phaed. 115.
84 Rep. VI 493.
35 Rep. 494.
36 Timº. 89.
61
- ºf
“But the fair mind in the fair body will be the fairest and
loveliest sight to him who has the seeing eye. . . . [To attain
this] we should not move the body without the soul or the soul
without the body, and thus they will aid one another and be
healthy and well balanced. And therefore the mathematician
or anyone else who devotes himself to some intellectual pursuit,
must allow his body to have motion also, and practice gymnastic;
and he who would train the limbs of his body, should impart to
them the motions of the soul, and should practice music and all
philosophy, if he would be called truly fair and truly good.”
These passages are enough to show that Plato did not share
in that hatred of the body which many ascetics have sought to
show, and that he would never have sanctioned mutilations
and the other excessive penances which have at times been in-
flicted upon the body. None of the texts cited below demand
much more than that the body be kept in its proper place, and
that the philosopher attach_m0. value to it.
But notwithstanding all this, one should never forget that
“the beauty of the mind is more honorable than the beauty
of outward form.” One must remember that “in the re-
gion above the heavens is the place of true knowledge,” and
that “no impure thing is allowed to approach the pure.”
Moreover, “what is purification but the separation of the soul
from the body—but the release of the soul from the chains
of the body? And the true philosophers, and they only,
study and are eager to release the soul.”
“The soul which is pure at departing draws after her no bodily
taint, having never voluntarily had connection with the body,
which she is ever avoiding, herself gathered into herself; (for
such abstraction has been the study of her life). And what does
37 Tºm. 88.
a8 Symp. 210.
39 Phaedr. 247.
40 Phaed. 67.
41 Ibid.
62
this mean but that she has been a true disciple of philosophy,
and has practiced how to die easily?”
After death “the foolishness of the body will be cleared away
and we shall be pure and hold converse with other pure souls,
and know of ourselves the clear light everywhere; and this is
surely the light of truth.”
“While we are in the body, and while the soul is mingled with
this mass of evil, our desire will not be satisfied, and our desire
is of the truth. For the body is a source of endless trouble to us
by reason of the mere requirement of food; and also is liable to
diseases which overtake and impede us in the search after truth:
and by filling us as full of loves, and lusts, and fears, and fancies,
and idols, and every sort of folly, prevents our ever having, as
people say, so much as a thought.”
This reminds one of the old Orphic doctrine that the body
is evil, that it is a punishment, that it is a tomb. In fact, in
one place Socrates is made to say that “there is a doctrine .
uttered in secret that man is a prisoner; this is a great mys-
tery which I do not quite understand.” The body is a
hindrance to the philosopher.
Finally, there are a certain number of passages which de-
scribe even more clearly the disregard which the true philoso-
pher will have for all things connected with the body. I will
quote two of them.
“He whose desires are drawn towards knowledge in every
—feel bodily pleasure—I mean, if he be a true philosopher and not
a sham one. Such a one is sure to be temperate and the reverse
of covetous; for the motives which make other men covetous and
also profuse in expenditure, are no part in his character.”
“Do you think that the philosopher ought to care about the
42 Phaed. 80.
43 Phaed. 67.
44 Phaed. 66.
45 Phaed, 62.
46 Rep. VI 485.
63
pleasures—if they are to be called pleasures—of eating and
drinking?
“Certainly not, answered Simias.
“And what do you say about the pleasures of love—should he
care about them P
“By no means.
“And will he think much of the other ways of indulging the
body, for example the acquisition of costly raiment, or sandals,
or other adornments of the body? Instead of caring about them,
will he not rather despise anything more than nature needs?
What do you say? “s tº
“I should say that the true philosopher would despise them.
“Would you not say that he is entirely concerned with the soul
and not with the body ? He would like, so far as he can, to be
quit of the body and turn to the soul.
“That is true.
“In matters of this sort philosophers, above all other men,
may be observed in every sort of way to dissever the soul from the
body.
“That is true.
“Whereas, Simmias, the rest of the world are of the opinion
that a life which has no bodily pleasures and no part in them is
not worth having; but that he who thinks nothing of bodily
pleasures is almost as though he were dead.
“That is quite true.
“What again shall we say of the actual acquirement of knowl-
edge?—is the body, if invited to share in the inquiry, a hinderer
or a helper? I mean to say, have sight and hearing any truth
in them 2 Are they not, as the poets are always telling us, inac-
curate witnesses? and yet, if even they are inaccurate and indis-
tinct, what is to be said of the other senses?—for you will allow
that they are the best of them? -
“Certainly, he replied.
“Then when does the soul attain truth?—for in attempting to
consider anything in company with the body, she is obviously
deceived.
“Yes, that is true.
64
“And thought is best when the mind is gathered into herself
and none of these things trouble her—neither sounds nor sights
nor pains nor pleasures—when she has as little as possible to do
with the body, and has no bodily sense or feeling, but is aspiring
after being?
“And in this the philosopher dishonors the body; his soul
runs away from the body and desires to be alone and by herself?
“That is true.”47
In these passages, at last, we come to a truly ascetic ideal.
Here, at last, is that complete inversion of the ordinary values
of the world which is known as asceticism. Here is described
the ideal sage, rising above the cares and worries, and also
above the pleasures and delights of this world, that he may
give himself over completely to the contemplation of higher
things. Here, too, is the teaching that man’s highest and
noblest activity is pure speculation. And this speculation is
not merely noble, but is also useful: the most important men
in the state were to be the philosophers. The greatest service
is not rendered by those who busy themselves with the affairs
of this world, but by those who spend-their lives-in-the-con-
templation of beauty absolute and absolute truth and all the
other absolute ideas, and who pass down to their fellowmen
the truths thus learned—they also serve who only sit and
think, so the ascetic does not live in vain.
In the preceding sections of our essay it has been shown
how the idea arose among the Greeks that there were certain
things which it was better not to do, even though they ap-
peared to be harmless enough in themselves: we have seen
the old beliefs in evil demons which inhabited certain things,
which should therefore be avoided; we have seen how the
progress of intelligence made these old beliefs less readily
tenable, and how a new interpretation of them became neces-
sary, which taught the radical dualism of soul and body, with
the great superiority of the former, and the implication that

47 Phaed. 64–5.
65
restraining the latter raised the former to a more perfect
state; we now come to the consummation of this whole devel-
opment. Perhaps we should have noticed certain contribu-
tions of the pre-Socratic philosophers: of Heraclitus who
taught that Logos, Reason, ruled everything,” and of Anaxa-
goras, who is said to have been the first to distinguish between
spirit and matter;” probably these thinkers had a certain in-
fluence upon Plato, too. We have also attempted to sketch
the social and intellectual conditions which led Plato to take
the attitude he did, and to lay such stress upon these ideas
which, he taught, had a real and absolute existence. So we
at last arrived at Plato's teaching of a superior and invisible
world which is known by the mind alone, but which is so far
superior to the sensible world that all who can should stop
bothering greatly about the affairs of this lower sphere, and
seek only the joys and pleasures of the world above. And
finally, we saw how this doctrine led Plato to make statements
which have a genuinely ascetic ring.
Later thinkers had but little to add. Aristotle took over
the conception that man's highest activity is pure specula-
tion: “perfect happiness is a species of speculative activity;”
“animals, as being perfectly destitute of such activity, do not
participate in happiness.” “We conclude then that happi-
ness is coextensive with speculation, and that the greater a
person’s power of speculation, the greater will be his happi-
ness, not as an accidental fact, but in virtue of the specula-
tion, as speculation is honorable in itself. Hence happiness
must be a kind of speculation.” Speculation is even of a
divine nature, for “the activity of God being prečminently
blissful will be speculative, and if so, then the human activity
which is most nearly related to it will be most capable of
happiness.”
48 Frg. 1, 2 Diels.
49 Aristot. Metaph. I 3, 984b, 15.
50 Aristot. Nic. Eth. X 8 (tr. Welldon).
In later times the Cynics took up this side of
6
66
the Socratic teaching which recommended the neglect and
depreciation of the body in favor of activity of the mind, and
Socrates became their ideal sage. From them, the Stoics
took their ideal of detachment from worldly affairs, and
finally the Christians took from them and the Neo-Platonists
(and to a certain extent from the various pagan religions
with which they came in contact) the ideals which went to
make up the Christian saint. Exactly how all this took place
we shall see in the second part of our study, but it may be
remarked at present that the whole work of the Hellenistic
epoch consisted merely in an elaboration and exaggeration
and popularization of ideas which have already been observed.
Before bringing our discussion to a close, however, one
more thing must be added. Plato was not only a philoso-
pher, but also a poet, and it may make it a little easier to
understand his ideas better if we watch him approach them
from this other poetic point of view as well. In the Phaedrus
he gives a little myth which well illustrates his idea of higher
activity at the expense of the body, and of the reward which
awaits those who do such things; this is the story of the origin
of grasshoppers. -
“Grasshoppers are said to have been human beings in an age be-
fore the Muses. And when the Muses came and song appeared
they were ravished with delight; and singing always, they never
thought of eating and drinking, until at last they forgot and
died. And now they live again in the grasshoppers; and this is
the return which the Muses make to them—they hunger no more,
neither thirst any more, but are always singing from the moment
they are born, and never eating or drinking; and when they die,
they go to the Muses in heaven.”
51 Phaedr. 259.
PART II
A S C E TIC ISM IN T H E G R AE CO – R O M A N
- WO R L D
********-*
CELAPTER IV
RELIGIOUs AscETICISM
During the period immediately following the life of Plato,
a great change came over Greece, which had the most far-
reaching effect upon all the phases of Greek life and thought.
Politically the old organization on the basis of city-states was

wiped away by the Macedonian-eonquest, while the campaigns
.***
-of Alexander in Asia widened the Greek world to an enor-
mous extent. Economically the expansion was parallel, and
Greece now became a part of the Hellenistic Empire. In-
tellectually the revolution was just as great: it has been seen
how the activity of the sophists revolutionized the intellectual
life of Athens, changing the population in less than a cen-
tury from a group of superstitious farmers into one of the
most enlightened communities which the world has ever seen.
Though even Athens was not able to maintain this lofty posi-
tion permanently, her history during the fifth century is but
an exaggerated form of what was going on all over Greece in
this and the following period. This intellectu . -
tion and the great widening of the horizon which resulted
from Alexander's conquests had so great an effect that a new
period in the history of Greek thought must date from the
end of the fourth century.
This social revolution was observable in all the phases of
Greek life, but nowhere was it more evident than in religion.
67
68
After the criticism of the sophists, the old beliefs in the Olymp-
ian gods were no longer tenable for enlightened persons, the old
religion was undermined, and men had to find a new one. This
constant search for a new religion is the most important and
most characteristic feature of the Hellenistic Age. Some
people tried to revive old popular cults, and were to a certain
extent successful. Eleusis continued to play an important
rôle in the Greek religious life; the Orphics continued to
attract a certain number of persons. The cults of gods who
had formerly been rather insignificant, such as Asculapius
or Hercules, were developed a great deal. Others estab-
lished new cults, such as those of Fate or the Emperor. Still
others sought to make philosophy a substitute for religion,
and philosophical Schools of a decidedly religious nature, such
2 as Stoicism, became popular. But one of the most important
of the religious developments of the centuries following Alex-
ander was the introduction of new religions from the Orient.
Even in the fourth century this process began, and during
the next seven hundred years a constant stream of new reli-
gions poured into the western world from Egypt, Asia Minor,
Syria, Persia, Babylonia and Palestine. The religious life
of later Greece is therefore marked by the greatest confusion,
by the struggles of sects, by the constant search for something
new, for a religion which could adequately fill the needs of
the new age: it was not until the advent of Christianity that
such a religion was found."
In the various foreign religions of the period, asceticism
was prominent, but it must be stated at the outset that in the
distinctly Greek cults and religions, there was little that was

1 For a splendid general account of the political, economic and social
developments of this period, and particularly for their repercussions
upon intellectual, philosophical and religious development, see Wend-
land, Die hellenistisch-römische Kultur (3 ed., 1912). For the general
religious development, see also Gruppe, Griech. mythol.- w. rel.-geschichte,
II Š 3, pp. 1458ff. For detailed points, the modern literature in
enormous; reference should be made here to the writings of Cumont,
Reitzenstein, Wendland, Dieterich, Bousset, etc.
69
new. Orphism continued to teach the ascetic life, but it had
already done so for many years, and it is quite impossible to
say how much was added that was new ; it is hardly probable
that Orphism remained identically the same during the one
thousand years of its history, but as has already been pointed
out, there is absolutely no material which would enable one
to trace its development exactly. It is probable, however,
that the general point of view of the Orphics remained the
same during their whole history, and that whatever changes
did take place were in a greater or less emphasis upon certain
details: as we are without materials for forming an accurate
judgment, an a priori supposition may be hazarded, that as
time went on, asceticism became more and more important
in the Orphic mysteries, for, as will appear later, asceticism
was very much more “in the air” during the later period
than before, and the Orphics could hardly have failed to be
affected by this Zeitgeist. The ascetic features of one of the
most popular cults of this period, the Eleusian mysteries, have
already been described; as in the Orphic mysteries, there was
no fundamental change at this time, but it is probable that
under the influence of contemporary thought the ascetic fea-
tures received greater emphasis than before. In the new
cults which were mentioned, such as the Emperor cult, there
was no place for asceticism, and the philosophical schools,
while attempting to take the place of religion, were not reli-
gions, so their asceticism was not strictly religious asceticism;
it was an ethical or philosophical asceticism, and will have to
receive a separate treatment in the following chapters. It is
thus seen that the strictly Greek side of the religious develop-
ment of the Hellenistic times did not add much to the ascetic
features of religion. This is probably due in part to the fact
that persons of an ascetic turn of mind found their desires
better filled, either by the philosophical schools, or by the
oriental religions; attention must now be directed to these.
In regard to the oriental religions, a word of introduction
70
f
is necessary. It is not the purpose of the present study to
give a complete account of the non-Christian antecedents of
Christian asceticism, and much less to give a general history
of asceticism; if this were its purpose, a great amount of
space would have to be devoted to these religions. But the
present paper is intended merely to give an account of the
- Greek antecedents of Christian asceticism. From this point
of view, it might seem as though there were no occasion for
mentioning oriental asceticism at all; this is just as wrong,
however, as the other view, for, dating from the days of the
Roman Empire at least, the devotees of these religions were
to be found in all parts of the Roman world, and their influ-
ence upon Greeks and Romans was great. In the following
chapters it will be seen how important this influence upon
ethical teachers and philosophers was. The ethical teachers
showed this influence by directly imitating Oriental ascetics,
though they did so on purely ethical grounds—they did not
accept any religion as a whole. Philosophers felt its effects
chiefly through Gnosticism, a curious blend of Oriental
theology and Platonic philosophy, which arose somewhat
before the advent of the Christian era, and which had a
powerful influence upon early Christians from the days of
Paul on, but which also had a noticeable effect upon Greeks
such as Plotinus. It is consequently necessary to have at
least a general view of the nature of this oriental asceticism,
if the later Greek development is to be understood. The
account to which the remainder of this chapter will be devoted
seeks to supply this general view, though it does not in any
way pretend to be complete, and is based entirely upon the
works of modern specialists.
Although the term “Oriental religions” covers a multitude
of sects, coming from many lands, from Asia Minor to Egypt
or Persia, and representing all stages of refinement, from the
savage rites of Cybele to the highly spiritualized devotion to
Isis, still there were certain things which they had in com-
71
mon. “Two new things in particular were brought by the
Oriental priests: mysterious methods of purification, by which
they claimed to wash away the impurities of the soul, and
the assurance that a blessed immortality would be the reward
of piety.” Such are the words in which Cumont sums up
his researches on the subject. Now it has already been shown
that both of these things had been offered for centuries by the
Orphics, so one may ask whether the adjective “new” is
correctly applied to them; but it is incontestable that the
Oriental religions did present these ideas to many persons for
the first time—Orphism had always been confined to a rela-
tively small number of persons—and that they did actually
present just these things. Moreover, they agreed, to a con-
siderable extent, in the methods by which they sought to
attain this purity: they “pretended to restore lost purity to
the soul either through the performance of ritual ceremonies
or through mortifications and penance. They had a series of
ablutions and lustrations supposed to restore original inno-
cence to the mystic. He had to wash himself in the sacred
water according to certain prescribed forms... . . The votary,
again, might drink or besprinkle himself with the blood of a
slaughtered victim or of the priests themselves, in which case
the prevailing idea was that the liquid circulating in the
veins was a vivifying principle capable of imparting a new
existence. These and similar rites were supposed to regener-
ate the initiated person and to restore him to an immaculate
and incorruptible life.” But this purgation of the soul
was not effected solely through such liturgic acts; at times,
self-denial and suffering, real asceticism, was required.
“Abstinence, which prevented the introduction of deadly
elements into the system, and chastity, which preserved men
from pollution and debility, became means of getting rid of.
the-domination—of evil—powers—and of regaining heavenly
2 Cumont, Oriental Religions in the Roman Empire (1907), p. 39.
3 Ibid., pp. 39f.
72
favor. Macerations, laborious pilgrimages, public confes-
~sions, sometimes flagellations and mutilations, in fact, all
forms of penance and mortifications uplifted the fallen man
and brought him nearer the gods. . . . This shows the intro-
duction into Europe of Oriental asceticism.” Asceticism
was therefore one of the prominent features of these new
religions, and undoubtedly contributed not a little to their
spread, while on the other hand, their spread contributed not
a little to the development of ascetic ideals in the Roman
world; the two advanced simultaneously as things went from
bad to worse in the Roman Empire. “We note the spread
of that feeling of exhaustion and debility which follows the
aberrations of passion, and the same weakness that led to
crime impelled men to seek absolution in the formal practices
of asceticism.” But without dwelling further upon a dis-
cussion of the causes of this ascetic movement, let us attempt
to describe more carefully the asceticism taught by specific
religions.
As these Oriental religions were all independent of one
another, there is no logical order for studying them, and a
geographical order will be as good as any. Then the first
cult to be studied will be that of Cybele, This cult has been
traced back to the Cretans, fifteen centuries before our era,
whence it passed, at an early date, to Asia Minor, where it
found its real home in the Anatolian highlands of Phrygia.
The Greek goddess Rhea was probably descended from the
same Minoan ancestor, but by the end of the fifth century,
Cybele began to appear in Greece herself, under the name
of Mother of the Gods." The cult of the goddess was
formally introduced into Rome in the year 204 B.C. From
that time on, this religion was among the most popular in
the city, until the second and third centuries A.D., when it
4 Ibid., p. 40f.
5 Ibid., p. 42.
• Graillot, Le Culte de Cybèle, Mère des Dieuz (1912), pp. 1–24.

73
reached its greatest importance, and was even accepted by
emperors." The principal rite of the religion was the tauro-
bolium, or sacrifice of a bull, for the safety of a beneficiary;
sometimes it was for the safety of the Emperor, the Empire
or a city, and sometimes for that of an individual person.*
The ascetic features of the cult are illustrated in the institu-
tion of sacred eunuchs, or Galli, who were in the service of
the goddess. The barbarous rite of emasculation here em-
ployed was probably of Semitic origin and always remained
abhorrent to the greater part of the Occidentals, but the
empire could not prevent its spread. “The Galli were
mystics who had received the major initiation. They had
reached the highest step of the mystic ladder. Emasculation
is here the supreme consecration, a veritable sacrament. . . .
Properly speaking, it is a votive offering, resting upon the
original notion of substitution and ransom. At the begin-
ning, they sacrificed some of the most beautiful adolescents
of the tribe. Later, a partial sacrifice, the ablation and obla-
tion of the virile organs, might take the place of the complete
sacrifice of life.” The men who had offered this sacrifice
held a privileged place in the religion: they wore special in-
signia, they performed divination, cured cattle, prophesied
and became magicians; sometimes they developed orgiastic
cults of their own, marked by wild dances terminating in
delirium, by flagellation and maceration, the sacrifice of their
own blood, and by mutilations.” Their whole life was sepa-
rated froïthat of profane-persees. “Their religious life is
incompatible with lay existence. For them, the service of
their lady is exclusive; it keeps them about the temples and
holy images.” They lived upon charity. They were sub-
jected to a common rule which imposed mendicancy upon
7 Ibid., pp. 182,224.
8 Ibid., ch. iv.
9 Ibid., p. 293.
10 Ibid., pp. 301ff.
11 Ibid., p. 301.
$.”
74
them, which led Tertullian to speak of it as a “Religion of
beggars.” This demanding alms was one of their forms of
asceticism.” The Galli resembled a mendicant and begging
order.” By this mode of life, they won the admiration of
multitudes. “Their ardent faith, their ascetic life, their
austere disciplines were an effective and contagious discipline.
Many a troubled soul was borne towards these interpreters of
a divine word, who appeared superior to other men because
they were no longer men, who heard confessions and directed
consciences, forgave sins, and gave consolations and sublime
hopes.” Others did not attain the lofty place held by
these Galli, but Ted an ascetic life nevertheless. Some who
had merely undergone a simple initiation organized them-
selves into communities called the “Beligious—of the Great
Mother,” and led a life of greater strictness than that of other
people, supported wandering Galli, let their hair grow long,
wore speaial costumes; but they were not pagan monks in the
full sense of the term, for they did not cut themselves off
from the world altogether—they married and became fathers
of families.”
The companion of Cybele was Attis. Though apparently
of an independent origin, he was, in historical times, always
associated with her as her lover. In fact, the self-mutilation
which the Galli performed was explained as being in imita-
tion of Attis's emasculating himself during frenzy. But
there were certain features of the Phrygian religion which
were an Attis cult, and which merit special attention as they
contained exceptional ascetic elements. According to the
myth, Attis died as a result of his self-mutilation, and his
death was bitterly mourned by Cybele. In memory of this
event, the worshippers mourned also, every spring. During
three days they spent their time in lamenting the death of the
12 Ibid., p. 312.
13 Ibid.
14 Ibid., p. 319.
15 Ibid., p. 284.
75
god. But in the night of the last day, their sorrow was
turned to joy, for the priest announced that Attis had risen.
This was hailed as a promise that they too would ultimately
issue triumphant from the corruption of the grave.” Dur-
ing the days of mourning, however, the worshippers had given
themselves over to a stringent asceticism—perhaps in prep-
aration for the coming sacrament as much as in a sign of
sorrow—which was a performance much like the day of
Fasting in the Greek Thesmophoria. They abstained from
sexual intercourse and from certain forbidden foods, par-
ticularly bread." t"
This Easter rejoicing preceded by three days of ascetic
mourning is also found in the cult of Adonis, in Syria. In
fact, the resemblance of the two cults is so great that some
have inferred a common origin. According to the myth,
Adonis was slain by a boar, while hunting, and was bitterly
mourned for by Aphrodite (i. e., Astarte; Adonis is a Greek
form of Adon, “lord,” his Syrian name being Tammuz.)
This mourning was imitated each spring by his worshippers,
particularly at Byblos, but also elsewhere (including Jeru-
salem, Ezek. 8, 14), and on the third day, just as in the
Attis cult, they rejoiced for the risen Adonis.” Here again,
therefore, we find the doctrine that sorrow expressed merely
by weeping, or else accompanied by ascetic acts, is an effective
purification, and a fitting preparation for sacred things. The
Syrians also had a sacred fish, which could not be eaten; we
read of a man who had offended the goddess by eating this
fish: “dressed in sordid rags, he covered himself with a sack
and sat in the public highway humbly to proclaim his mis-
deed in order to obtain forgiveness.” We also read that
the Syrian goddess, too, had her Galli.” -
1. Frazer, Adonis, Attis, osiris, I, p. 272.
17 Hepding, Attis, seine Mythen und sein Kult (1904), pp. 155, 182.
18 Frazer, Op. cit., I, ch. i and ix.
19 Cumont, Oriental Religions, p. 40.
20 Ibid., p. 222, n. 31.
76
Farther to the east was Persia, the home of the religion of
Mithra. As far back as the religion of this people has been
raced, it has been found that they worshipped a divinity of
light, named Mithra, who soon began to receive special atten-
tion. Regarded as a god of light or fire, sometimes identified
with the sun, and also regarded as a war god and the giver
of victory, Mithra received great attention during the period
of the Persian Empire, and had a large place in the official
cult. Finally, during the period of moral and religious
fermentation provoked by the Macedonian conquest, Mithra-
ism received its final form—the form under which it sub-
sequently spread over the Roman Empire.” The religion of
Mithra was not well received in Greece, but in Rome it was
for a long time one of the principal religions. It was appar-
ently introduced into Italy during the first century B.C., but
dating from the end of the first century.A.D. began its real
prominence. It was always a religion particularly popular
with the army, and the chief centers of its cult were the
camps guarding the frontiers of the empire. The religion
was dualistic in its character, dividing all things into two
classes, the good ones being under the charge of the superior
gods of light, and the bad ones given over to the powers of
darkness. A mighty conflict between good and evil was sup-
posed to be engaged in upon earth, and this universal conflict
gave the key to the moral system taught by the religion.
“Life is a proving, and to leave it victoriously, one had to
observe the law which the god himself had delivered to the
ancient Magi.” Incertitude as to the exact nature of this
law is extreme, but it appears that “perfect purity remained
for them the end towards which the existence of the faithful
should tend. Their ritual included repeated lustrations and
ablutions, which were believed to wash away the stains of the
*~
21 Cumont, Teates et Monuments figurés relatifs awa, mystères de
Mithra (1896ff.), I, pp. 223ff.
22 Ibid., I, p. 307.


77
soul. This purification conformed to Mazdean traditions, as
well as being in harmony with the general tendencies of the
epoch. Ceding to these tendencies, the Mithraists even
carried their principles to excesses, so that their ideal of per-
fection inclined towards asceticism. They praised absti-
nence from certain foods and absolute continence.” The
'cult had a clergy upon whom ascetic rules were imposed.
Tertullian says that the supreme pontiff might marry only
once, and that, like the Christians, the worshippers of this
god had their “virgins” and “continents.” “The exist-
ence of this sort of Mithraic monasticism is the more remark-
able,” says Cumont, “because this value attached to celibacy
is contrary to the spirit of Zoroastrianism.” It serves to
illustrate, however, how great the tendencies in this direction
Were.
The other great religion which spread through the Roman
Empire was the Egyptian cult of Isis. This goddess was the
chief divinity of Egypt in the Tasſepoch of its religious de-
velopment. As was pointed out above,” some scholars are
of the opinion that the cult of Isis exercised considerable
influence upon the Greek religion in the earliest stages of its
development; it is certain that by the time of Herodotus,
the Greeks themselves believed that they saw affinities between
the two religions. But later the Egyptian cult itself was
introduced: it had long been known in the Aegean archi-
peligo, but by 350 B.C. an altar had been erected to Isis at
Piraeus; later the cult appeared in other parts of Greece, and
in the first century-B.g., it was introduced into Rome; dur-
ing more than five centuries it was tended in the Latin
world.” In the worship of Isis, asceticism always had a
23 Ibid., p. 307.
24 Ibid., p. 324.
25 Ibid.
26 Supra, p. 27.
27 Roscher, Lea. d. griech. u. rôm. myth., art. “Isis”; Cumont, Or.
Rel., pp. 78–85.
78
prominent place. The myth related that at one time her son
Osiris was killed, and his body cut up and thrown into the
Nile; for a long time she sought him, sorrowing, until at last
she found him and brought him to life again. In memory
of this event, her worshippers lamented also for a while over
the slain Osiris, but as in the other religions, their sorrow
was followed by rejoicing upon the resurrection of the god.”
The period of mourning was marked by fasts and other
ascetic rites. It has sometimes been urged that a special
asceticism was demanded of the priests of Isis. A fragment
of the Stoic Chaeremon has preserved a description of these
priests, with their ascetic life, their slow march, their down-
cast eyes, etc.;” but it has recently been strongly urged that
this description is a great exaggeration. The most recent
writer on the subject maintains that there was no asceticism
among the Egyptian priests. But whether Chaeremon exag-
gerated or not, it is certain that Otto” is wrong when he
denies that there were any ascetics at all. It is certain that
at least in the second century before our era, there were in-
dividuals who had given themselves over to an ascetic life in
honor of Isis or Serapis. In the papyri coming from the
great Serapeum at Memphis there is frequent mention of
individuals called editoxot, who were recluses in the temple
and devoted to the service of the goddess. It is true that
Preuschen and others maintain that this word means “pos-
sessed,” and signifies that these individuals were “possessed”
by the goddess or inspired,” but the best modern scholars
agree that it really means “bound” and signifies that they
were recluses, prisoners of the goddess.” Over sixty years
28 Frazer, Op. cit., II, ch. i, and pp. 49–51, 84–86.
29 Apud Porph. de Abst. IV 6. tº e .
30 Otto, Priester und Tempel im hellenistischen Agypten (1905), II,
. 167.
p 31 Preuschen, Mönchtum und Serapiskult (1899).

32 Bouché-Leclercq, in Mélanges Perrot, p. 17ff.; Reitzenstein, Hellen-
istische Mysterienreligionen, p. 74. -
79
ago Brunet de Presle, in a paper read before the French
Institute, suggested a connection between these recluses and
the early monks;* several years later, Weingarten seriously
attempted to explain the whole rise of Christian monasticism
from them, alleging that Pachomius, the legislator of Chris-
tian monasticism, had been such a recluse in his youth;” this
is obviously too simple a theory, and is not held by any
serious scholars today, but the very posing of the question
directed considerable attention to these men, and their ascetic
character has been made very evident. “We may also con-
sider as established that the cdroxol of Serapis and Isis are
novices who serve for years or even a life time in the temple
in the hope of consecration,” and that there was a theory
that “this neglect of the body was especially pleasing to God,
and a hope of being considered worthy of extraordinary
dreams and visions while in such a state.” As time went
on, asceticism became ever more common in Egypt: in the
second and third centuries, the land was filled with anchorites
and wandering asgetics, who not only made it a point to ab-
&
stain from flesh, wine and sexual...intercourse, but who also
pººr ºre-º ºt, sº-ºººººº “”
********, *-a-...--...resº
Egypt became preeminently the land of extravagant ascetics,
so that the eccentric Christians had but little to add to what
these Egyptians had already done.
As was said at the outset, all of this had the greatest influ-
ence upon later Christian development, but for the Greeks,
its effect was felt chiefly through the intermediacy of that
curious philosophy known as Gnosticism, which grew up out
of a combination of the theological tenets of these various.
38 Mémoire sur le Sérapéum de Memphis, in Mémoires Présent&s par
diverses savants à l’Academie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres II
(1852).
** Der Ursprung des Mönchtums in machconstantinischen Zeitalter
(1877).
35 Reitzenstein, Mysterienrel., pp. 89ff. . .
* Reitzenstein, Wunderereihlungen, pp. 65ff., 142ff, etc.
**.
80
sects with Platonic philosophy. A few words must there-
fore be devoted to a description of some of the features of
this system.
The term Gnosticism is applied to a somewhat hetero-
geneous group of systems of belief which were prevalent
during the first three centuries of our era, and which con-
cerned themselves with a Yvogts, or higher knowledge, which
amounted to a revelation for the direction of life. Though it
was the result of the general syncretism of the period, the
sources of the different Gnostic systems varied: thus some
Gnostics showed closer affinities with Egyptian, others with
Babylonian, and others with Persian thought, but all in-
cluded within their systems elements coming from all of
these sources, as well as from Greek philosphy.” This type
of thought had the greatest influence upon the speculations
of the early Christians: in the second century there was an
extremely close connection between the two, but these rela-
tions go back to the apostle Paul himself, who was pro-
foundly influenced by Gnostic speculation.” But it is clear
that Gnosticism was independent of Christianity and even
preceded it.”
The central ideas common to all the systems of Gnostic
speculation were those of a radical dualism in the world, and
of the ascent of the soul to the higher element. This dualism
contained both the Persian antithesis of good and bad, of
see e--------~~~~~ *---------sºmeº
light and darkness, and the Platonic antithesis of soul an
º
body. Into the details of the myths by which the origin
of this dualism was explained, it is not necessary to go: it
will be sufficient to say that they were a most curious and
37 Cf. Scott, in Encyc. Rel, and Ethics, art. ‘‘ Gnosticism,’’ p. 234.
38 See particularly, Reitzenstein, Mysterienrel.; p. 56: “Die religions-
geschichtliche Betrachtung darf ihn stellen nicht als den ersten, aber als
den grossesten Gnostiker.” P. 59: “Die hellenistische religiöse Litera-
tur musser gelesen haben; ihre Sprache redet er, ihre Gedanken hat er
sich himeinversetzt.”
89 Friedländer, Der vorchristl. jüd. Gnosticismus (1898).
81
confused medley of myths from all sorts of sources and repre-
senting all stages of refinement. In the universe which this
dualism thus divided into hostile camps, man held an inter-
mediate position: he was evil, he was material, but he also
had a soul, though a fallen one, and by this he was attached
to the superior world.” Now the central idea of Gnosticism
was redemption: the Gnosis was offered to the elect as a
means whereby the soul might free itself from the body and
its bondage. As all of the evil and misery of the world were
blamed upon the mixture of the two antagonistic principles,
redemption from them consisted in deliverance from the in-
trinsically evil material world. It is obvious that such a
theory could only lead to a stringent asceticism as the basis
of ethical teaching, and as a matter of fact, a study of the
great Gnostics shows that they did teach just such an
asceticism.
The great Gnostics, Basilides, Valentinus and Marcion, were
Christians as well, but this did not prevent their being per-
fectly good Gnostics, and it is certain that their asceticism
was not of Christian origin, for in their day Christianity had
developed very little asceticism; it was rather they who first
introduced it into Christianity on a large scale. A study of
their asceticism will therefore show the typically Gnostic
theories on the subject.
For Basilides, marriage was at best a concession to men,
and he strongly advised abstention from it; though he re-
garded the sexual appetite as natural, he said that it was by
no means imperative, and held that it was better not to gratify
it.” He also taught the purifying virtues of suffering—an
idea which is at the basis of all highly developed asceticism,
and which has already been met with. “Tribulations and
sufferings expiate, purify and correct,” he taught. “They
40 For Gnostic dualism, see Bousset, Hauptprobleme der Gnosis (1907),
pp. 91ff.
41 de Faye, Gnostiques et Gnosticisme (1913), p. 27; cf. Bousset, p. 95.
82
constitute the punishment which saves, the coxaaſtriptov, and
are consequently a good thing. Basilides says so expressly.
|He declares that they are the result of the goodness of ‘him
who leads all things.’ The martyr is a privileged person.
The expiation which he undergoes is more glorious than that
which falls to ordinary believers.” Like him, his son
Isidore also taught a most rigorous asceticism. For both,
asceticism was a way of redemption, and it was to it that they
gave their entire attention.*
Valentinus, was preoccupied with much the same question
and gave a similar answer. His fundamental theories of the
distinction of soul and body, and that the body is the source
of all evil and the enemy to be routed, naturally led to
asceticism; in fact, he made this an essential part of what
amounts to a veritable doctrine of sin and redemption.
“With these views, Valentinus could not fail to become an
ascetic in morals. In the final analysis, redemption, for him,
consisted in the elimination of the corporal element, in the
mortification of the flesh, in a sort of inward death. To
realize this ideal was the privilege of spiritual men.”
Marcion, too, was an ascetic, and even went so far in this
regard that some accused him of being a Cynic. He con-
demned the flesh and forbade marriage. If married, his dis-
ciples had to renounce all sexual relations. “Tertullian con-
stantly finds fault with him on this account. ‘Caro in nuptio
tollitur,’ he said. “Why does he impose chastity upon this
infirm and unworthy flesh, whether this is to be considered a
burden or a glory?’”* Marcion even made continence a
condition of baptism. “Marcion does not baptise flesh unless
it is virgin or widow or celibate, or unless it has bought bap-
tism by a divorce. This institution is born of the condemna-
tion of marriage.” He even carried his asceticism into his
42 de Faye, p. 30; references to fr. in Clem. Al. Strom. IV 12, 83.
48 de Faye, pp. 27, 34.
44 de Faye, p. 42; Clem. Al. Strom. IV 13, 89.
45 de Faye, p. 147; Tertullian, adv. Marc. I 28.
46 Ter. adv. Marc, I 29.
83
theory of the world, and became a complete pessimist. “It
may be asked whether it was his doctrine of God which, as a
logical consequence, made Marcion an ascetic, or whether it
was his asceticism, which was older than his theological ideas,
which found a plausible excuse in these. It seems probable
that Marcion, like all the fervent souls of his time, philoso-
phers as well as Christians, early felt strong ascetic tenden-
cies. When he had once established his great principle of
the opposition between the Supreme God and the creator, he
saw in it the most solid foundation for virtue as he under-
stood it. His doctrine of God strengthened his asceticism,
and gave it a more precise form.”
Such were the ascetic tendencies of the oriental religions
which entered the Roman Empire during the first centuries
of our era. In the following chapters it will be shown what
effect these had upon subsequent Greek speculation.
47 de Faye, pp. 147–8; Bousset, p. 111.
CEIAPTER V
ETHICAL AscETICISM f
The new elements of the Greek religion which appeared
during the centuries following Alexander were not, therefore,
of indigenous origin, but were importations from the Orient.
As much may be said for the ascetic tendencies of the age
which were strictly religious: they were of eastern origin and
were introduced into the Occident along with the religions of
which they formed a part. If it were not for the fact that
these oriental religions and this oriental asceticism affected
Greek speculation on the subject to a remarkable extent, there
would be no occasion for mentioning the religious asceticism
of the period at all here. But it is undeniable that such an
influence was actually exercised, so a brief account of the
oriental asceticism and its theory was essential to an under-
standing of the later Greek asceticism.
But though the Greek religion, properly so called, did not
develop greatly during the period of the Hellenistic and Ro-
man Empires, the Greek mind had not lost its originality nor
had it ceased to speculate. The only difference was that this
speculation began to flow in other channels. As has been
pointed out above, the old official religions had become unten-
able for a large part of the people, and new means had there-
fore to be found for satisfying their religious needs. One
means that was tried, the introduction of new cults, has been
described; another equally important one was found in what
were known as philosophical Schools.
A movement towards the establishment of such schools
arose among the immediate disciples of Socrates, who divided
themselves up into groups, Cyrenaics, Megareans, Cynics, etc.
As time went on, these sects and their successors received
84
85
an ever-increasing attention, until in the early years of the
Roman Empire, when they reached their fullest development,
the majority of the upper class people had attached themselves
to one school or another. These schools, therefore, filled a dis-
tinctly religious need, and their teaching took an increasingly
religious aspect; they cannot be called religions, however, for
they lacked one thing that is essential to every religion, namely,
a cult. But if these schools were not religions, neither was
their teaching philosophy in the strictest sense of the term.
Though it is unquestionably true that many of these schools,
and particularly the Stoics, did produce philosophers of note,
still the name philosopher cannot be applied to every one who
was a member of one of these schools. Philosophy, as now
understood, is a discipline to which but few have either the
leisure or the ability to devote themselves, and which includes
the formulation of a reasoned view of life and the universe.
These schools, and especially the more popular ones, did not
do this: they appealed to a wider class of people than could
interest themselves in such problems, and what they gave
these people was a set of maxims for the conduct of life.
Some may have developed upon these maxims and thus formu-
lated a real philosophy (as was the case with Seneca, for ex-
ample, whose writings will be examined in the next chapter),
but the vast majority of the adherents to the schools did not:
they contented themselves with regulating their lives accord-
ing to the precepts of their school, so the schools may be called
ethical schools and their thought ethical thought; their asceti-
cism was ethical asceticism.
These ethical schools were numerous, each catering to a dif-
ferent sort of people, and each supplying a different sort of
ethical system. The one which best illustrates the ascetic
tendencies of the day is that of the Cynics.
Cynicism claimed to go back to the Socratic teaching; it
claimed as its founder Antisthenes, who is described in Xeno-
phon’s Memorabilia and Symposium. But its real founder
86
was Diogenes of Sinope, who flourished in the middle of the
fourth century. After him came Crates and various lesser
disciples, but after about the middle of the third century we
lose track of the school. But in the first century B.C. it re-
emerged, and from then until the time of St. Augustine it
remained one of the most prominent of the ethical schools.
Cynicism has been spoken of as “the philosophy of the
Greek proletariat.” Though there were brilliant exceptions,
such as Hipparchia, the majority of the followers of this
school were of plebeian origin. They made it their mission in
life to carry on an incompromising warfare against all the
institutions of their day, political, religious and other, and
the method they chose for doing this was to ridicule and
abuse. The Diatribe, an abusive, scurrilous and sometimes
vulgar, but always witty harangue, became their favorite form
of discourse: they so popularized it that it became the stand-
ard form for all agitators with a message, and traces of it are
clearly observable in the epistles of St. Paul and St. James.”
They foreswore all the comforts of civilization themselves,
and wandered about from place to place, delivering their dia-
tribes, and living as best they could ; they have frequently
been compared to the begging friars of later ages.”
The cardinal point in the Cynics’ teaching was the supreme
value of virtue, and the utter insignificance of everything
else: if other things were not positively bad, they were at
least indifferent and unworthy of a man’s efforts. Wisdom
itself they classified among indifferent things. They allowed
of no distinctions between men except on the basis of virtue
alone: rich and poor, freeman and slave, wise and foolish,
Greek and barbarian were all alike to them, except in so far
as one excelled another in virtue. Moreover, they saw in
civilization the chief enemy of virtue. According to their
--~~~~" ~~~~
1 Gomperz, Greek Thinkers, II, p. 148 (Eng. tr.).
2 Wendland, Philo und die kynisch-stoische Diatribe (1895); Die wr-
christliche Literaturformen (1912); R. Bultman, Der Stil der paulin-
ischen Predigt und die kymisch-stoische Diatribe (1910).
3 Bernays, Lucian und die Kyniker (1879), p. 99.
87
doctrine, the philosopher should show himself absolutely in-
dependent of civilization and society, and even of other per-
sons, and devote himself entirely to the pursuit of virtue.
Hence came the eccentricities and bizzareries for which the
founders of the school are famous: we all know of the numer-
ous legends of which Diogenes is the hero, of his life in a
barrel, of his scanty clothes, his attempts to do without fire
by eating his meat raw, of his disregard for social conventions
and usages which resulted in the completest shamelessness;
these were all means by which he sought to express his entire
self-sufficiency and to lead a life in harmony with nature.”
But exactly what they meant by virtue, beyond this inde-
pendence and life of nature, is by no means clear: it is a fact
that their teaching was largely of a negative character.
Because of their emphasis upon a renunciation of the goods
of civilization, the Cynics found some of the phases of the
Socratic teaching particularly sympathetic : in a former chap-
ter extracts were quoted illustrating Socrates's contempt for
the goods of this world—though as modified by Platonic ideal-
ism. The Cynics seized upon these same things, but gave
them a very different interpretation, for they were radical
empiricists.” Starting from these premises, they developed
a rule of life which from the first bore great resemblance to
that of ascetics, and which later had a very great influence
upon the development of asceticism. They taught that life i
was a constant struggle against evils and Hercules became
4 These stories came mostly from Diogenes Laertius, Bk. VI, and
Clement of Alexandria; they can be taken for what they are worth. Cf.
Schwartz, Charakterköpfe aus der antiken Literatur, Zweite Reihe, I,
‘‘Diogenes der Hund und Krates der Kyniker.”
5 The contempt in which Plato and the Cynics mutually held each
other was due no doubt in part to the differences in their social status,
and in part to their radical philosophical differences. Thus Simplicius
(Categ. Schol. in Arist. 66b45) tells how Antisthenes said to Plato, “I
can see a horse, but not the idea of a horse.” Plato replied, “True,
for you have the eye with which one sees a horse, but you are deficient
in the eye with which one sees the idea of a horse.”
88
their patron god. They compared life to the struggles of an
athlete (tradition says that one of the early Cynics was a
bºxer before he was won for philosophy) and it was from
them that came the many similes to the prize-ring, of which
moralists in the Roman Empire, such as Seneca or St. Paul,
were so fond.
** As a matter of fact, this is about all that the asceticism of
the earlier Cynicism amounted to: every philosopher should
be free from dependence upon anything, so should denounce
and reject all things; he should do all in his power to harden
himself against them, and to the practices employed to this
end, they gave the name āormats...] It has already been seen
that certain of the sophists used this term to designate the
mode of life by which one should live; the Cynics did the
same, only their mode of life was a much more rigorous one,
and demanded acts which had never been demanded before.
As has been seen, the Cynics did this as a reaction against
...the reigning-social order, and not because they had another
which they wished to introduce: their ideal of épéticonsisted
largely in foreswearing all civilization, which they considered
the cause of all vice, and by returning to the happy state of
nature. They taught that if a man should train himself by
asceticism, he would be freed from the temptations of the
* * *********, ºr ,
*** **, *-*.
world and its lusts. It was in this that the Cynics differed
from Plato: Plato saw the chief enemy of the philosophic life
in the body, but the Cynics saw it in civilization; Plato
urged that one chastise the body, but the Cynics, with their
teaching that naturalia non sunt turpia, were willing to in-
dulge such passions as they considered natural (as the sexual
passion), frequently in a most shameless way; Plato sought
things which were ideal and social, the Cynics sought things
which were empirical and individual. Thus Diogenes gave
himself no pains to chastise his sinful body, but fortified it
against desire. When some one asked him what a philoso-
pher should eat, he replied, “Whatever he can get, just like
89
anybody else.” The Cynic life consisted in seeking evöatuouſa,
and the way it did this was by avoiding the lusts and desires
engendered by the civilization against which it was a revolt.
Such was the asceticism of the early Cynics. It was
clearly the product of the time which produced it—the deca-
dent Greece of the fourth century. From the third to the
first century before Christ, following upon the conquests of
* * * * *** *** ****
...~""
nence. A Neo-Cynicism then arose which continued the tra-
ditional sturdy rebelliousness of the early school; once more
all the institutions of society were subjected to the attacks of
popular wandering beggars who professed allegiance to the
doctrines of Diogenes.
The historians of the Imperial period frequently speak of
Cynic preachers, but after all, one of our best sources for
these Cynics is Lucian, who seems to have taken a great in-
terest in them, even though his accounts are far from sympa-
thetic. In many of his writings, such as On the Death of
Peregrinus, Zeus Cross-Ea:amined, Cynicus, or The Sale of
Creeds, he gives descriptions of Cynics and their mode of
life which are most enlightening.
Thus as a description of the typical Cynic, one may quote
the words, “Who are you, anyway? You have a beard and
long hair, but no shirt, and your skin shows; you go barefoot,
choosing a wandering and inhuman life like the beasts; un-
like others, you make your body the object of your austerities,
and you constantly go about from place to place, sleeping only
on the hard ground, so that that philosopher's cloak is disgust-
ingly dirty, though it never was fine or soft or bright col-
ored.” Dressed in such a uniform and leading such a life,
the Cynics travelled over the whole empire, giving frequent
examples of their outspokenness, not even hesitating to de-
6 Luc. Cyn. 1.
90
nounce the Emperor to his face in the theater," and carrying
on a warfare against the popular religions which was scarcely
less bitter than that waged by the Christians.”
The positive side of their creed, in so far as there was any,
consisted in a preaching of brotherhood (buxavěpotría) and a
promise of liberty to those who followed their mode of life.
But in the main, now as in the earlier period, the chief item
in their creed was the utter worthlessness of all the mundane
things upon which men ordinarily set their hearts. The life
and in particular the death of a celebrated Cynic of the second
century, Peregrinus, make this clear.
In his essay On the Death of Peregrinus, Lucian tells the
story of this man. He was born in Armenia, but while still
a young man he commenced to follow the wandering life of a
Cynic. Lucian says that for a while he was associated with
the Christians in Palestine, who made much of him; he was
arrested but presently dismissed. He returned to Armenia;
“his hair (even in these early days) is long, his cloak is
shabby; at his side is flung the philosopher’s wallet, his hand
grasps the philosopher's staff.” He distributed all the wealth
which had been left him by his father; when the people heard
the news, they said, “Here is true philosophy; the spirit of
true philosophy is here.” Presently, after severing his con-
nection with the Christians, he made a trip of Egypt. “Here
he went through the most interesting course of discipline: he
shaved half of his head bare, anointed his face with mud,
grossly exposed himself before a large number of spectators
as a practical illustration of ‘Stoic indifference,’ received cas-
tigation with a birch rod, administered the same, and mysti-
fied the public with a number of still more extravagant
follies.” Then he went to Rome, where he commenced to
7 This is said to have happened to Titus, Sueton. Tit. 7; other examples
are given by Luc. de Morte Per. 17, 18; Dion Cass. 66, 5, 13. Cf. Ber-
nays, p. 29.
8 Luc. Zeus Conf.; Vit. Auct. 8. Bernays, p. 32ff.
9 Luc. de Morte Per. 15.
10 Ibid. 17.
91
abuse everybody, and particularly the Emperor, until he was
expelled from the city; “he was in every one's mouth as the
philosopher who was banished for being too outspoken, and
saying what he thought. He took place with Musonius, Dion
and Epictetus.” Finally he went to Greece, and there con-
ceived the idea of closing his life by publicly cremating him-
self at the Olympic games. He appeared at an important
moment during the games, to announce his resolution and ex-
plain it: Lucian tells us how he talked about “the life he had
lived, the risks he had run, the trials he had undergone in
the cause of philosophy. . . . Upon a golden life he desired
to set a golden crown. He had lived like Heracles: like
Beracles he must die, and mingle with the upper air. ‘It
is my aim,” he continued, ‘to benefit mankind; to teach them
how contemptible a thing is death.’” A pyre was pre-
pared, and it was announced that the cremation would take
place at midnight. “Then Proteus (i.e., Peregrinus) threw
aside his scrip and cloak and club—his club of Heracles—
and stood before them in scrupulously unclean linen. He de-
manded frankincense to throw upon the fire; being supplied,
he first threw it on, then, turning to the south, he exclaimed:
‘Gods of my mother, gods of my father, receive me with
favor.” With these words he leaped into the fire.” Nat-
urally this act aroused the greatest interest and many came
to regard Peregrinus as superhuman; legends grew up about
him, statues were erected to him.**
Lucian’s entire treatment of the story of Peregrinus is
most severe. He ascribed all of his activity to the basest
motives, particularly love of notoriety, and pictured him as a
most blatant impostor. But it is far from certain that this
is a just estimation of him. The great Cynic made a very
different impression upon Aulus Gellius, who had frequently
11 Ibid. 18.
12 Ibid. 32, 33.
13 Ibid. 36.
14 Ibid. 40,41.
92
visited him during his student days at Athens, and who found
him a serious and high-minded man.” It is an undeniable
fact that Cynicism did appeal to persons in the lower classes
of society, and undoubtedly it attracted many unscrupulous
impostors, but it is equally certain that many Cynics had
lofty characters, and it is quite possible that in his self-
immolation Peregrinus sincerely wished to give men a prac-
tical lesson teaching contempt of death.” -
Another Cynic, with much the same gospel, but a very dif-
ferent method of teaching it, was the gentle sage Demonax.
His character was such that he even won the admiration of
that universal scoffer Lucian, who had “long consorted with
him,” and who wrote his biography “to keep his memory
green, and provide the most earnest of those who aspire to
philosophy with a contemporary pattern.” A Cyprian by
birth, he came of an influential family, but “his views soared
above such things as wealth; he claimed nothing less than the
highest, and devoted himself to philosophy.” His teachers,
Epictetus, Demetrius and others, taught him to lay the great-
est stress upon self-sufficiency, freedom from fear and hope,
and a good disposition. “He took independence and candor
for his guiding principles, lived himself an upright, whole-
some, irreproachable life, and exhibited to all who saw or
heard him the model of his own disposition and philosophic
sincerity. . . . He was consistent enough, when he found
that he could no longer suffice to himself, to depart volun-
tarily from life, leaving a great reputation behind him among
the nobility of Greece.” Lucian has preserved for us many
15 Aul. Gell. xii, 11.
16 Cf. Dill, Roman Society from Nero to Marcus Aurelius, pp. 356ff.;
M. Croisset, Un ascète paien au siècle des Antonius. Peregrinus Protée,
in the Mémoires . . . de l’Académie . . . de Montpellier, 1880, vol. vi., pp.
455–491. Zeller, Alexander und Peregrinus, in Deutsche Rundschau,
Sept., 1876.
17 Luc. Demon. 1, 2.
18 Ibid. 3.
19 Ibid. 3, 4.
93
of his biting criticisms of men of his day, and also his teach-
ing of the insignificant value of worldly goods. “To all
who repined at poverty, resented exile, or complained of old
age or bad health, he administered laughing consolation, and
bade them not forget how soon their troubles would be over,
the distinction between good and bad be obsolete, and long
freedom succeed to short-lived distress.” He lived to be
nearly a hundred years old, free from disease and pain, bur-
dening no man, asking no man’s favors, serving his friends,
and having no enemies. Not Athens only, but all Greece
was so in love with him that as he passed, great men would
give him place and there would be a general hush. Baker
wives would contend for the honor of supplying him, while
children used to call him father and make him presents of
fruit.” When he died, the Athenians gave him a public
funeral, his body was borne to the grave by philosophers, and
his memory held sacred.”
The best account of the Cynics, however, and the most
sympathetic, is the one given by Epictetus,” who was himself
a Cynic or nearly one. According to him, the true Cynic
“must know that he is sent a messenger from Zeus to men
about good and bad things, to show them that they have wan-
dered and are seeking the substance of good and evil where
it is not, but where it is they never think. . . . In fact the
Cynic is a spy of the things which are good for men and
which are evil, and it is his duty to examine carefully and
to come and report truly, and not to be struck with terror
so as to point out as enemies things which are not enemies,
nor in any other way to be perturbed by appearances nor con-
founded.” “Man, the Cynic is the father of all men; the
men are his sons, the women are his daughters: he so care-
20 Ibid. 8.
21 Ibid. 63.
22 Ibid. 67.
23 Diss. iii. 22.
24 Ibid. § 23–25 (Schenkl).
94
fully visits all, so well does he care for all. Do you think
that it is from idle impatience that he rebukes those whom
he meets 3 He does it as a father, as a brother, and as the
minister of the father of all, the minister of Zeus.” Such
is the lofty calling of the true Cynic, and one must constantly
labor to make himself worthy of it.
In the course of his essay, Epictetus gives several examples
of Cynic diatribes, which well illustrate the teachings of his
school. Thus he teaches that power and happiness are not
to be found in external things. “You seek for prosperity
and happiness where they are not,” the ideal Cynic teacher
is made to declaim, “and if another shows you where they
are, you do not believe him. Why do you seek it without 2
In the body? It is not there. If you doubt, look at Myro,
look at Ophellius. In possessions? It is not there. But if
you do not believe me, look at Croesus: look at those who are
now rich, with what lamentations their life is filled. In
power? It is not there. If it were, those would be happy
who have been twice or thrice consuls, but they are not.”
Again, he holds himself up as a model of how one should act
to be happy, and incidentally gives an excellent picture of
a Cynic:
“And how is it possible that a man who has nothing, who is
naked, houseless, without a hearth, squalid, without a slave, with-
out a city, can pass a life that flows easily? See, God has sent
you a man to show you by his acts that it is possible. Look at
me, who am without city, without a house, without possessions,
without a slave; I sleep on the ground, I have no wife, no chil-
dren, no praetorium, but only the earth and heavens, and one
poor cloak. And what do I want? Am I not without sorrow?
am I not without fear? am I not free? When did any of you
see me failing in the object of my desire? or falling into that
which I would avoid P Did I ever blame God or man P did I
25 Ibid. § 81–82.
26 Ibid. § 26–27.
95
ever accuse any man? did any of you ever see me with a sorrowful
countenance? And how do I meet with those whom you are
afraid of and admire? Do I not treat them like slaves? Who,
when he sees me, does not think that he sees his king and
master P’’27
To become a true Cynic “in the first place, in the things which
relate to yourself, you must not be in any respect like what you
are now : you must not blame God or man: you must take away
desire altogether, you must transfer avoidance only to the things
which are within the power of the will: you must not feel anger
nor resentment nor envy nor pity; a girl must not appear hand-
some to you, nor must you love a little reputation, nor be pleased
with a boy or a cake.”
Since the Cynic has this high calling of reproving other
people's vices, he must be very careful to suppress his own.
As Epictetus says:
“Before all, the Cynic's ruling faculty must be purer than the
Sun; and if it is not, he must necessarily be a cunning knave
and a fellow of no principle, since while he is himself entangled
in some vice he will reprove others. För see how the matter
stands: to these kings and tyrants, their guards and arms give
the power of reproving some persons, and of being able even to
punish those who do wrong, though they are themselves bad; but
to a Cynic, instead of arms and guards, it is conscience which
gives this power. When he knows that he has watched and
labored for mankind, and has slept pure, and sleep has left him
still purer, and that he has thought whatever he has thought as a
friend of the gods, as a minister, as a participator of the power
of Zeus, and that on all occasions he is ready to say, ‘Lead me,
O Zeus, and thou, O Destiny’; and also, if it so pleases the gods,
so let it be; why should he not have confidence to speak freely to
his own brothers, to his children, in a word, to his kinsmen?”
27 Ibid. § 45–49.
28 Ibid. § 13.
20 Ibid. § 93–96.
96
The Cynic, above all men, must not indulge in the com-
forts of civilization, even friendship: this is not only because
these are really not good, but also because he must give all his
strength to following his high calling. A young man asked
Epictetus if a Cynic, when sick, might go to the house of a
friend to be cared for, and received as a reply:
“And where shall you find, I ask, a Cynic's friend? For the
man who invites ought to be such another as the Cynic, that he
may be worthy of being reckoned the Cynic's friend. He ought
to be a partner in the Cynic's Scepter and his royalty, and a
worthy minister, if he intends to be considered worthy of a
Cynic's friendship, as Diogenes was a friend of Antisthenes, as
Crates was a friend of Diogenes. Do you think that if a man
comes to a Cynic and salutes him, that he is the Cynic's friend,
and that the Cynic will think him worthy of receiving a Cynic
into his house? So that if you please, reflect on this also: rather
look around for some convenient dunghill upon which you shall
bear your fever and which will shelter you from the north wind
that you may not be chilled. But you seem to me to wish to go
to some man’s house and to be well fed there for a time. Why
then do you think of attempting so great a thing as the life of a
Cynic?”
. †. to a true Cynic: a wife and
children would impose upon him—cares and duties which he

has not the right to take,” for his services are demanded for
all humanity, who are his children. What the Cynic gives
society is of more value than many children.
“In the name of God, are those men greater benefactors to
society who introduce into the world to occupy their own pleas-
ures two or three grunting children, or those who superintend, as
far as they can, all mankind, and see what they do, how they live,
what they attend to, what they neglect contrary to their duty.”
30 Ibid. § 62–66.
31 Ibid. § 69ff.
82 Ibid. § 77.
97
But Epictetus has the sharpest criticism for the Cynics of
his day. He speaks with contempt of “the present Cynics
who are dogs that wait at tables, and in no respect imitate
the Cynics of old, except perhaps in breaking wind, but in
nothing else.” He denounces the dirtiness which was so
characteristic of the Cynics of his day, and urges all true
Cynics to maintain a respectable appearance.
“It is necessary for a Cynic to have a certain habit of body:
for if he appears to be consumptive, thin and pale, his testimony
has not then the same weight. For he must not only by showing
the qualities of his soul prove to the vulgar that it is in his
power, independent of the things which they admire, to be a good
man, but he must also show by his body that his simple and
frugal way of living in the open air does not even injure the
body. See, he says, I am a proof of this, and my own body also
is. So Diogenes used to do, for he used to go about fresh-look-
ing, and he attracted the notice of many by his personal appear-
ance. But if a Cynic is an object of compassion, he seems to be
a beggar : all persons turn away from him. He ought not to
appear dirty, so as not to drive away men by it; but his very
roughness ought to be clean and attractive.”
During this same period, there were many other popular
teachers who were not avowed Cynics, but who shared many
of their doctrines and methods of teaching. One of these,
who lived in the early years of the Roman Empire, was
Musonius Rufus. The fragments of his diatribes which re- - , ,
main fill only a small book, but one of these is entitled Tepi
&akāaeos, and well serves to show how much he was in sym-
pathy with the ideas already described. His idea of virtue
was a very practical One, requiring constant effort and prac-
tice, or Čakmats. “He strongly urged askesis upon those
hearing him, always using these words: ‘Virtue,” he would
say, ‘is not theoretical knowledge only, but also practical,
like medicine or music.” Then through several pages his
83 Ibid. § 80.
84 Ibid. § 86–89.
35 Muson. p. 22, ed. Hense.
98
idea of the ascetic life is developed, in terms which parallel
those of his contemporaries. “The ascetic must lead a supe-
rior life, not be pleased with pleasure, nor avoid pain, not
love life nor fear death, and not esteem possessions so much
that he will set himself to acquiring them.”
Contemporary with this revival of Cynicism, came a re-
vival of Pythagoreanism—as-a-popular ethical system. The
older Pythagoreanism had continued down to the end of the
fourth century, for frequent references to abstinence from
beans and flesh are found in the Middle Comedy,” but
during the two following centuries we hear very little of the
school and its tenets. In the last century before our era,
however, there was a great revival of interest in the Pytha-
gorean rule of life, and from that time until the end of the
antique world, the tradition remained unbroken. A frag-
ment of Alexander Polyhistor speaks of Neo-Pythagoreans
in his time (B.C. 80–69);” a contemporary of Cicero,
Nigidius Figulus, established the school at Rome. After
that time the number of Neo-Pythagoreans was more numer-
ous: in the first century there were Apollonius of Tyana and
Moderatus as the most eminent, in the second century, Nicho-
machus and Numenius, in the third, Philostratus, while
others, such as Jamblichus and Porphyry, were profoundly
interested in these doctrines.
At this period the school was of a popular nature. Many
of its teachers, like Apollonius of Tyana, went about in a
manner almost like that of the Cynics, just described; others
adopted more literary methods of propaganda, and wrote
numerous popular books, such as the numerous lives of Pytha-
goras,” Philostratus's life of Apollonius, or Porphyry’s tract

86 Ibid., p. 27. -
37 Vid. Sup., p. 42, n. 40.
s8 Diog. Laert. VIII 24ff. -
89 Lives were written by Moderatus, Nichomachus, Antonius, Apol-
lonius, Porphyry, Jamblichus, etc. Cf. Rohde, Die Quellen des Jam-
blichus in seiner Biographie des Pythagoras, in Kleine Schriften, II,
pp. 102–172.
99
against animal food. Some members of the school, it is to
be admitted, were more profound philosophers, and developed
ideas upon the One and the Many, and God and Matter, which
were used by the Neo-Platonists later, but for most of its
members, the Neo-Pythagorean school confined itself to offer-
ing the Pythagorean rule as a guide to life.
This rule was supposed to be the one taught by Pythagoras
himself. Here are the terms in which Jamblichus described
the teaching of the master: “the best polity, popular concord,
community of possessions among friends, the worship of the
gods, piety to the dead, legislation, erudition, silence, absti-
nence from animals, continence, temperance, Sagacity, divin-
ity, and in a word, whatever is sought after by lovers of
learning, was brought to light by Pythagoras.” The ascetic
features of the rule were obvious: five years of silent contem-
plation were demanded,” meat or beans could not be eaten,”
and abstinence from wine was required;” some went beyond
the letter of the rule, and rejected marriage.”
These two distinct schools show how great was the propa-
ganda during the early part of the Roman Empire which
taught the renunciation of the goods of this world, and urged
a veritably ascetic mode of life. The two schools which have
been mentioned, the Cynics and the Neo-Pythagoreans, ex-
emplified these tendencies more clearly than any others, but
they were not unique. There was a host of other popular
preachers, who attached themselves to no school in particular,
but who taught the same doctrines that have already been
outlined. One example of this type is the celebrated Dion
Chrysostom, whose preserved orations contain ascetic senti-
ments in great quantities, but ones differing but little from
what has already been seen.” Another example of the popu-
40 Jamb. Wit. Pyth. 6, cf. 20ff. -
41 Philostr. Wit. Apol. I 14; Luc. Vit. Auct. 3.
42 Philostr. I 8, 21; II 6, 26, etc.; Luc. Vit. Auct. 6.
48 Philostr. I 8; II 7; etc.
44 Philostr. I 13. .
45 Cf. von Arnim, Das Leben und Werke des Dion von Prusa (1898).
100
lar teaching of the day is found in Seneca's account of his
early training, which is worth quoting in full.
“Indeed, as I heard Attalus declaiming against the vices, the
errors and the evil of life, I frequently bewailed the human race,
and I believed him sublime and above human rank. He said of
himself that he was king. But to me he seemed something more,
for he justly censured kings. When he commenced to commend
poverty, and to show that whatever was superfluous was an un-
necessary burden and hardly to be borne, it frequently seemed
pleasant to go forth from the school poor. When he com-
menced to accuse our pleasures and to praise a chaste body, a
Sober table, and a mind free not only from illicit pleasures but
also from superfluous ones, it was pleasant to restrain gluttony
and the belly. A part of this still persists with me, Luculus, for
I approached all with great enthusiasm. When reduced to civil
life, I retained a few of the things thus well begun. Because of
this, I have renounced oysters and mushrooms during my whole
life. For they are not food but amusement, encouraging those
who are already filled to eat more, which is most pleasant to the
gluttonous and those stuffing themselves with more than they can
hold, as they descend readily and are as readily given back. Be-
cause of this, I have, during my whole life, abstained from per-
fume, since the best odor for the body is none at all. Because
of this, my stomach has ever gone without wine. Because of this,
I have fled warm baths all my life, believing that they weaken the
body, while seething it is a useless and over delicate thing.
Though I have broken off from complete abstinence from certain
other things, there remains a severe rule of life which is almost
abstinence, and which may even be more difficult, since it is
easier to cut some things off from the Soul altogether than to
temper them.
“Since I have begun to explain to you with how much greater
enthusiasm I approached philosophy as a youth than I now pro-
ceed with it as an old man, I shall not shame to say with what
love Pythagoras inspired me. Sotion told me why he had ab-
stained from animals, and why Sextius subsequently did. Their
reasons were different, but both were magnificent. . . . When
101
Sotion had exposed these things and completed them with argu-
ments of his own, he used to say, “Do you not believe that souls
are placed in other bodies and other things, and that what we
call death is a migration? Do you not believe that what was
formerly the soul of a man still survives in the beasts or cattle
or the fish of the sea? Do you not believe that nothing perishes
in this world, but only changes place? and that the celestial
bodies are not turned through given orbits any more than animate
ones go through their changes in order and are driven through
the world to souls? Great men have believed that. Therefore,
suspend your judgment for a while and think these matters over
carefully. If things really are thus, to abstain from animals is
innocense; if this is false, to do so is frugality. What part of
your credulity is destroyed here? I snatch from you the food
of lions and vultures.’ Incited by such exhortations, I com-
menced to abstain from animals, and after the lapse of a year,
this custom was not only easy for me but also pleasant. I be-
lieved that my mind was more active, nor today can I affirm that
this was not the case. Do you ask how I came to stop? Well,
the period of my youth fell in the first years of the reign of
Tiberius Caesar. At that time foreign priests were expelled,
and among the arguments for their superstition was placed the
abstinence of some of them from meat. So upon being re-
quested by my father, who did not fear calumny but who hated
philosophy, I returned to my original custom. Nor was it hard
for him to persuade me to take up a better fare.
“Attalus also used to praise a mattress which would resist the
body: even as an old man, I use one in which an impression can-
not remain. I have related these things in order that I might
prove to you how eagerly the young recruits receive the first
impulse towards the good.” a
The question of the origin of this asceticism is a compli-
cated one. It has been seen that Cynicism and Pythagorean-
ism traced their origins back to the earlier period of Greek
history, the one to certain phases of the Socratic teaching, and
the other to the Greek Pythagoras. To a great extent the
46 Sen. Ep. ad Luc. 108, 13–17, 20–23.
102
movement was the development of germs found in Greece
from early times; social conditions became such that a teach-
certain persons developed these previously existing germs.
But on the other hand, it has been seen that at just this time
there was a great influx of oriental ascetics into the Empire:
their asceticism, too, had the redeeming features which were
so sorely needed by the age, and must have suggested many
things to their contemporary Greek fellow teachers. As a
matter of fact, if the teaching of these Greek schools is exam-
ined, many traces of such oriental influence will be observed.
The similarities between the Cynics and the Galli are patent,
and undoubtedly many Cynics consciously imitated these wor-
shippers of Cybele. It is a very significant fact that Pere-
grinus underwent his severest asceticism in Egypt where, as
has been seen, native asceticism was strong, and tended to-
wards the extravagances recorded of Peregrinus during his
stay there. Many of the ascetic practices indulged in at this
period were quite foreign to occidental peoples: Seneca ob-
jected to ascetics who castrated themselves,” but this act was
something unknown to the Greeks and Romans, so was un-
doubtedly suggested by the orientals. It may even be asked
whether the “scrupulous filthiness” of the later Cynics was
not an imported feature, for, as Epictetus has been seen to
point out, this was foreign to Diogenes. The lives of Pytha-
goras dating from this period say that he learned his wisdom
from the Egyptians and Babylonians; the first books of Phi-
lostratus's life of Apollonius are devoted to a journey he is
said to have made to India to learn the wisdom of the Hindus
—which wisdom was of course ascetic: these trips to India
became very common in the popular literature of the day, and
stories of Indian ascetics became very current.
Among these Indian stories, that of Calenus, an Indian
who immolated himself in the time of Augustus, thus becom-
* Nat. Q. vii 31, 3.
103
ing a hero for many, and perhaps suggesting the idea to Pere-
grinus, is a pre-eminent one. Strabo tells the story of how
he came with an embassy to Augustus, and while at Athens,
in the presence of an astonished crowd and perhaps of the
Emperor himself, he anointed himself and leaped smilingly
upon a pyre. A tomb was raised which was visible as late
as the age of Plutarch, upon which his self-immolation was
recorded. How much attention this act attracted in the west
is shown by the numerous references to it in literature;”
Josephus even makes his hero Eleazer hold Calanus up as a
model to his men,” and it has been suggested that St. Paul
had his act in mind when he wrote, “And if I give my body
to be burned, but have not love, it profiteth me nothing.”
It is safe to conclude, therefore, that a considerable oriental
influence was exercised in the development of this popular
asceticism of the time of the Roman Empire. But it is also
clear that this oriental influence only modified the form in
which the Greek ascetic ideas were expressed: it did not
bring the asceticism itself into being: the social condition of
the Roman Empire did that. Nor did it contribute the fun-
damental ideas upon which this asceticism was based, for
these have been observed in Greece long before this oriental
influence could have begun. Orientals suggested a few ex-
trayagant acts for outwardly expressing these ideas, but it
was the Greeks themselves who contributed the idea thaf all
mundame things are to be considered as useless or worse, and
that the body and its cares are the greatest enemy to the soul
and virtue. • .
It may be remarked here, too, that the early Christians
*** * *
eagerly seized upon both oriental expression and Greek idea,

for they found in them a most valuable corellary—te—their
teaching of another world—an idea which received little at-
fention among the Greeks whom we have just been studying.
º arwazarº “
48 Strabo xv. 1, 73 (270); 4 (686); Dion Cass. 66, 9; Plut. Vit. Alez.
69; Clem. Alex. Strom. iv. 571; Aelian War. Hist. v. 6.
49 Jos. Bell. Jud. vii. 87.
50 Lightfoot, Colossians, p. 394, n. 2.
CHAPTER WI
PHILosophic AL ASCETICISM
In the preceding chapter it was seen how, beginning in the
last century before Christ, large numbers of people began
to give themselves over to all sorts of ascetic practices; from
the opening of this century until the end of the pagan world,
such practices became ever more popular. The persons who
did such things, however, did not do them from strictly re-
ligious motives, but rather from ethical ones: the asceticism
which has been described was a distinctly ethical asceticism.
Two different sorts of asceticism have been found in the
Roman Empire, then, one religious and largely oriental, the
other ethical, and more distinctly Greek—though it too was
influenced by oriental forces. But there was a third sort
as well, which must be described before the present study will
be complete.
In general, the persons whose activities were described in
the last chapter were not very philosophic persons; they were
not the sort who would think things through and formulate
a reasoned exposition of the grounds for their conduct; they
were content to invoke a few general conceptions and let
it go at that. But at the same time there were other persons,
likewise interested in asceticism, who were more deep-think-
ing. These latter were profoundly influenced by the more
popular asceticism which they saw about them, and which
was undoubtedly the determining cause of their own, but
owing to their character, they could not rest content until
they had worked out a rationale of the whole thing. These
more philosophic persons therefore formulated a philosophy
of asceticism which stated in enduring terms the confusedly-
104
105
felt aspirations of the popular ascetics of their day. Not
only do they serve to clarify this popular movement, but they
also show how great a part of the attention of even the highly
intellectual classes was devoted to such subjects: after the
time of Christ, all the great thinkers gave much attention to
the subject, doing so to a greater and greater extent as time
went on, so that it is possible to say that all the philosophy
of fading Hellas was a philosophy of asceticism.
During the period of the Roman Empire, two philosophies
predominated, Stoicism and Neo-Platonism. Of course there
were many others, but the eclecticism" of the time was so
great that nearly all the schools shared much the same ideas,
and differed only in the emphasis which they placed upon
one idea or another; much the same results might be obtained
by a study of others, but the ones which developed the ascetic
side the most, and which are therefore best adapted for our
present purposes, are the ones just mentioned.
The Stoic school arose at the end of the fourth century as
a development of Cynicism. Zeno, its founder, had been
attracted towards the Cynics in his youth, and both he and
his followers always had a high opinion of Cynic virtue.
Many of the fundamental Cynic ideas, such as those of self-
sufficiency, impassibility, indifference to externals, were in-
corporated into Stoicism; the chief difference between the
two schools, in fact, lay in the polemic nature of the Cynics,
which the Stoics did not share. The early Stoics, Zeno,
Cleanthes and Chrysippus, did not give great attention to
asceticism, and as much may be said for their successors in
what is sometimes called the Middle Stoa, which is marked
by Panaetius and Posidonius, who flourished, the former in
the last half of the second century, the latter in the first half
of the first B.C. But, as has been seen, there was not much
asceticism of any kind at this period. This absence of philo-
1 The volume of Zeller which deals with the first part of this period is .
called Eclecticism, in the English translation. -
106
sophical asceticism merely parallels the absence of any other
kind, and the general prosperous condition of the Hellenistic
world. By the time of Posidonius, however, the ascetic
movement was beginning again, and he is not without im-
portance for later development. With him a new spirit was
brought into Stoic thought, and into all Greek speculation for
that matter, which was destined to have a great effect upon
subsequent philosophers, for his thought was what served as
the foundation upon which the later theorists of asceticism
built.”
Posidonius was born at Apamea, a Greek city in Syria,
about 135 B.C. While still a boy he went to Athens where
he studied philosophy with Panaetius (m.c. 109) and others,
and then travelled extensively, going as far as Spain and
Upper Egypt. He finally settled in Rhodes, of which city
he became a citizen, and there taught philosophy during the
remainder of his life. Ancient authors refer to twenty-
four books said to have been written by him, but of these only
a few fragments remain,” largely preserved in the writings of
his personal friend Cicero. We do not know the details
of his doctrines, therefore, but we do know that these doctrines
had an enormous influence upon subsequent writers, Cicero,
Seneca, Varro, Philo of Alexandria, Plutarch and others.
But throughout, Posidonius's originality was slight; he did
not invent the ideas which he set forth, but collected them.
For this reason, some take “Posidonius” as the name of a
body of ideas then current, of a tradition, rather than of a
person.* -
Having been a Syrian by birth, Posidonius is believed by
some to have been influential in introducing a stream of
oriental mysticism into Greek thought. It is undeniable that
2 The best modern accounts of Posidonius are in Schmekel, Philosophie
der mittleren Stoa (1892) esp. pp. 238–90, and Bevan, Stoics and
Sceptics (1913), ch. iii.
8 Posidonii Rhodii reliquae doctrinae, ed. Bake, 1810.
4 Bevan, p. 96.
107
just such a mysticism did begin to appear in occidental specu-
lation at this time, and it is also certain that Posidonius's
thought contained many mystical elements,” but it cannot be
proved that these were of oriental origin: they might equally
well have been derived from Plato. Posidonius left his
oriental home while still a boy, so he had probably not pene-
trated deeply into the wisdom of his country, while it is
known that his thought was in other respects profoundly
influenced by Plato. But whatever its source may have
been, it is clear that a considerable amount of mysticism was
introduced into Stoicism at this time, so if we take the word
Posidonius in the very broad sense of a tradition then cur-
rent, oriental influences may have been an important factor,
even though most of the tradition came from Greek prede-
cessors. It is this mysticism which makes the period im-
portant for the student of asceticism, for mysticism and
asceticism are always kindred things, appealing to the same
type of mind.
It is impossible to find any direct teaching about asceticism
in the fragments of Posidonius; his importance rather lies in
the fact that he formulated a theory of the world and its
nature which was generally accepted by later thinkers. As
they made it the foundation of their more strictly ascetical
speculation, a brief description of it is required here.
Posidonius varied to a certain extent from the strict
monism of the earlier Stoics by dividing all things into two
eategories, things with bodies and things without bodies,
matter and spirit. However, both were derived from an
original being, a sort of fiery breath, the giver of life and
reason, eternal and divine. This divided into spirit and
matter. The former was supposed to be infused throughout
the latter, giving it form and life. The conventional Greek
division of things into four elements, earth, air, fire and
water, was accepted. The elements were supposed to be
5 Schmekel, pp. 400ff. -
108
arranged in the order of their density, with earth at the
center, surrounded by water, then by air, and finally by the
fire outside of all. Thus the one farthest from the earth was
the purest and the least deviated from its divine origin. As
was said, spirit was to be found in all sorts of matter; every-
thing was alive; the world itself had a soul; but this was
especially true of plants, still truer of animals, and above all
the case with men. The dual nature of man was so marked
that he was in a class by himself, far above animals, and
even resembling the divine, because of the unusual quality of
his soul. Men's souls were of the same nature as the
divinity," an etherial breath;" they were therefore in sharp
contradistinction to the body, which was but matter, and
useless and rotten flesh,” the support, however, of the God
dwelling in man.” The body was therefore only a chain for
the soul which hindered and impeded its free movement.”
The soul was really independent of the body, having existed
before it and having come to it for the time being, and would
undoubtedly continue to exist after it.” From this followed
his rule of ethics: each part of man should (following the
Cynic-Stoic dictum) live according to nature, which might
be reduced to saying that man should seek the true and the
good, the truth as the end of the activity of the spirit, the
good that of the body;” these two made up virtue. But
owing to the superior quality of spirit, its activity was con-
sidered superior too: in the final analysis, the really virtuous
man was the sage. This briefly is the theory of the nature of
the world and man which is behind most of the thought of
Greek thinkers who came after Posidonius.
6 Cic. Tusc. I 24, 56–28, 70.
7 Ibid. 1 17, 40; 18, 42.
8 Sen. Ep. 92, 10.
9 Cie. Nat. Deor. II 9, 24ff.
10 Cie. Div. I 49, 110.
11 Cic. Tusc. I 12, 27ff.; 22, 53ff.
12 Clem, Al. Strom. If 416b.
109
II. The best illustration of what the Stoics thought about
asceticism in the first years of the Empire is found in Seneca;
he is typical of the time, giving in a concentrated form the
essence of the Stoicism which was the prevailing philosophy
of his day. Just as Nero's household, of which he was an
inmate, demonstrated in a concentrated form the tendencies
which were prevailing in the whole Roman Empire and which
were already heading it towards ruin (though moralizing
historians since the days of Tacitus may have exaggerated
the vice of Nero's court), so the philosophy of Seneca, which
was his reaction to the life at court, represented in a con-
centrated form the philosophical ideas which prevailed among
large classes of persons throughout the world, and which gave
the age its general tone. It is certain that the type of
thought which Seneca represents was popular throughout the
Roman Empire at the time, so his asceticism may be taken
as typical of the ascetic tendencies of the period.
Seneca was born at Cordova, in Spain, practically at the
opening of the Christian era. In the reign of Augustus his
father came to Rome as a rhetor. During his early life,
Seneca held several public offices, but in 41 A.D. he was
banished to Corsica, where he remained for eight years. At
length he was recalled, however, in 49, by the Empress
Agrippina, who made him the tutor of her son Nero. Upon
the ascension of the latter upon the throne of the Empire,
Seneca and his colleague Burrus virtually ruled the world.
For a while, all went well. But presently things changed,
and began to grow rapidly worse, and Seneca wished to with-
draw from court. He had amassed an enormous fortune,
which became a scandal to others, and Seneca felt the reproach
deeply. He wished to give it up, but Nero forbade him
either to resign his wealth or to leave Rome. From that
time on, his life lay in Nero's hands, as Seneca was perfectly
well aware. He devoted himself during the remainder of
his life to literary pursuits: among the various products of
110
the time are his letters to Luculus, which contain the best
exposition of his philosophy, and particularly of its ascetical
features. At length the order came, and Seneca committed
suicide in the year 66.”
From his youth upwards, Seneca had received philosophical
instruction. In one of his letters to Luculus, in a passage
quoted in the last chapter, he tells in detail of his early
studies. In this passage he describes his rigorous mode of
life, his abstinence from all delicacies which might tend to
soften the body, and from all fresh food, and in general, shows
himself an enthusiastic adept of the popular philosophy of
the time. If as a youth Seneca received such instruction
with enthusiasm, it is no wonder that in his old age he gave
asceticism a considerable place in his philosophy. But as
with preceding ascetical philosophers, his asceticism was
an integral part of his philosophy, and a logical deduction
from its basic propositions, so it cannot be adequately under-
stood apart from the rest.
The starting point of his philosophy—and of all the other
philosophies of the time, for that matter, as was but natural—
was a consideration of the transitoriness and uncertainty of
all things. There seemed to be nothing in the world in which
a man could have confidence. Even if things appear for the
moment to be calm, he argued, one never knows what will
come next: “do not trust this tranquility,” he warned
Luculus, “the sea is changed in a moment.”** Nor is human
nature itself any more certain: “we waver between various
plans; we wish nothing freely, nothing absolutely, nothing
always. “It is folly,' you say, “to which nothing is constant,
and is pleased long with nothing.’” In such a state of
affairs, a remedy must be sought, to make life bearable: since
13 For the relation of Seneca’s philosophy to his times, see Glover, The
Conflict of Religions in the Roman Empire (1909), ch. ii; cf. Dill,
Roman Society from Nero to Marcus Aurelius, Bk. 3, ch. i.
14 Ep. 4, 7. -
15 Ep. 52, 1.
111
all the things in this world are transitory, “seek something
more amenable to the good; but there is nothing that is this
except what the soul finds within itself; virtue alone offers
a sure and etermal pleasure.” In this sentence is the
essence of his whole philosophy: to attain happiness, one
should forsake external things and seek the things of the
soul, or virtue, for they alone are eternal. “Do not take
pleasure in vain things: I said this was the foundation of
philosophy: it is its apex.” “No one is able to live securely
who thinks too much of procuring things, who counts many
years among good things; meditate daily how you may leave
life with a calm mind.” “Philosophy will persuade you
not to sit at the counting desk.” In one place he says,
“If you wish to have your soul free, you must be poor, or as
though you were poor.” But it is not necessary to live
in penury; it is enough to be “as though you were poor.”
In another passage, he says that one should have sufficient to
live: “‘what is the measure of riches?’ you ask: first to have
what is necessary, then to have what is sufficient.” All
that he means to say is that one should not attach himself
to these external things. Among these things to which a
wise man will not attach himself is life itself: “I advise you
this, not only as a remedy for disease but also for all life:
despise death. Nothing is sad when we have fled this fear.”
The gods have no use for external things, so why should the
sage?” He will care only for virtue, and what is virtuous,
even though it be painful, is what he will seek and all that he
will seek.”4
16 Ep. 27, 3.
17 Ep. 23, 1.
18 Ep. 4, 4.
19 Ep. 17, 2.
20 Ep. 17, 5.
21 Ep. 2, 6.
22 Ep. 78, 5.
23 Ep. 76, 25.
24 Ep. 71, 21.
112
These ideas were all based upon the old Cynic teaching
that one should forswear the goods of civilization and live
according to nature: “indeed, it is our purpose to live accord-
ing to nature,” said Seneca.” If one has this determination,
and also has, as the Stoics did haye, a clear conception of the
necessity of nature, he will always wish to act in harmony
with it: “the wise man does nothing unwillingly; he escapes
necessity, for he desires what is necessary.” Parallel with
this, or rather, as a consequence of it, was the great emphasis
which was placed upon reason. “If you wish to submit all
things to yourself, submit yourself to reason; you will rule
many things if reason rules you.” But this reasonable-
ness is not only practical: reason being the highest part of
man, its perfection is the highest perfection. “It is well if
the reason is set free and right, and accommodates the will
to its nature. For as reason alone perfects a man, so perfect
reason alone makes him happy.” “You rejoice that you
are improving and calm; yet that joy is a very different one
which comes from the contemplation of a resplendent mind,
pure from all defilement.” But reason is more than the
highest part of man: it is an element of the divine within
him. “Reason is nothing other than a part of the divine
spirit placed in the human body.” Thus reappears the old
Stoic doctrine of the Spermatic Logos and its incarnation
in man. *
This importance of reason led to a great emphasis upon
the personality or individuality of a man, upon his soul.
Since reason was considered the most important part of man,
and was internal, and since all external things were vain,
men were urged to rely upon their own souls, to withdraw
25 Ep. 5, 4.
26 Ep. 54, 7.
27 Ep. 37, 4.
28 Ep. 76, 15–16.
20 Ep. 4, 1.
80 Ep. 66, 12.
113
within themselves. “Withdraw into yourself as much as you
are able; commune with those things which will make you
better.” Also, it was taught that a man should be judged
by these internal things only: “when you wish to arrive at a
true estimation of a man, and to know what sort he is, regard
him naked: let him set aside his inheritance, his honors and
the other lies of nature, and let him divest himself of his
body itself: regard the soul, as to what sort and how great it
is, and whether its greatness is due to him or someone else.”
Corollary with this was the teaching that a man should show
himself independent even of other men: the greatest contempt
is shown for the turba. It is said to be the incarnation of
foolishness and vice. The sage will flee it.*
The reward which awaits him who does this is freedom,
“perpetual liberty, and dread (timor) of neither man nor
god.” In a splendid passage, Seneca speaks of the reward
which a sage may expect, and in it, he sums up a good deal
of his philosophy. “And how great a recompense awaits, if
we break off from our preoccupations and most tenacious
evils. Neither passion nor fear disturbs us. Unmoved by
terrors, uncorrupted by vices, we shall dread neither death
nor the gods: we shall know that death is not an evil and that
the gods are not bad: for that is weak which harms, rather
than that which is harmed. The best lack evil power.
There awaits us, if hereafter we go from this debased to that
lofty state, tranquility of soul and, after all delusions have
been expelled, absolute liberty. Do you ask what these
mean? Not to dread either men or gods; to wish nothing
base or superfluous; to have the greatest power in oneself:
for it is an inestimable good to be made master of oneself.”
31 Ep. 7, 8.
82 Ep. 76, 32.
* Ep. 7, 1, 2; 8, 1, 2; de Otio 8, 1.
34 Ep. 17, 6.
35 Ep. 75, 16–18.
9
114
Upon this foundation, teaching the vanity of all external
things, and exalting to the skies the gloriousness of the
individual soul, Seneca’s asceticism was built. The end
of life, he taught, is virtue, but few men ever attain it. His
ascetical philosophy aimed to point out the way which one
should follow to attain it.
In the first place, all men are sinners: “ peccavimus,” he
says.” But though this statement may be enlightening, it
does not aid greatly in remedying the situation, except in so
far as it emphasizes the fact that there is a situation to be
remedied. It is more important to know why all men are
sinners. “What is it, Luculus,” he asks, “which drags us one
way when we want to go another, and forces us towards that
from which we wish to recede 3’” The answer is that
“many things bind us, many things maim us. As long as we
are buried in vices, it is difficult to be saved. We are not
impure, but poisoned.” The real cause of sin is that men
do not realize the vanity of everything, but are constantly
wanting things; in good Buddhist fashion, he teaches that
desire is the root of all evil: he quotes with approval from
FIecaton, “you will cease fearing if you cease desiring.”
The trouble with men is that they do not heed the teaching of
philosophy.
The life which a philosopher should lead, and the one led
by ordinary people are two absolutely incompatible modes of
life; in the manner of so many of his contemporaries, he
compares them to two cities.” One is the ordinary every-
day world of transitoriness and discord and sordidness; the
other the real and spiritual world. He urges his friend
Luculus to “ascend from this world to that.” “As great as
is the difference between their splendor and light—and one
36 de Clem. i. 6.
37 Ep. 52, 1.
38 Ep. 59, 9.
39 Ep. 5, 7.
40 Ep. 68, 2; de Otio iv.
115
has its own certain source of light, but the other shines by the
light of the first—so great is the difference between this life
and that: the present one is illuminated by light coming from
without and whoever comes makes a thick shadow; that one
is illuminated by its own light.”
This other life is the one which every man, or at least
every philosopher, should seek to lead; this other city is the
one in which he should seek to establish his true citizenship.
But this is by no means an easy task: it requires constant
struggle and warfare on the part of the philosopher. “It
would make you laugh if someone should tell you that the
struggle is gentle and easy. I do not wish to deceive you.
The expression is the same for this most glorious profession,
and that most base one [of gladiator]: ‘to practice (usi =
ãaketu), to conquer and to be slain by the sword.’ It might
better be avoided by those who place themselves in the arena,
and who eat and drink what they gain by blood, for they suffer
such things unwillingly; but when said by you, it is not base,
for you endure willingly and freely. They are allowed to throw
down their arms and demand mercy of the people, but you may
neither surrender nor ask for your life.” The life of the
philosopher is like that of the soldier, and both should be
terminated with the word “Vici !” “Do you ask whom you
are to conquer ? Not the Persians nor the farthest of the
Medes nor whatever warlike people lies beyond the Dahae,
but avarice, ambition and fear of the death which conquers
the conquerors of peoples.” He bids men endure the buf-
fetings of fate by remembering that “no athlete is able to
approach the struggle who has never been beaten black and
blue.”* One of his arguments for a rigorous mode of life
is that “the strongest soldiers come from the rough country,
while the lazy ones come from the city. The more severe
41 Ep. 21, 1–2.
42 Ep. 37, 1–2; cf. 96, 5.
43 Ep. 71, 37.
44 Ep. 13, 2.
116
discipline of the country strengthens their nature, and makes
it suitable for greater endeavours.” Finally, no one is able
to attain the good things which lead to a happy life unless
“one is regardless of labor,” but if one does persevere, he will
at last succeed, and receive a reward which is comparable to
a victor’s crown.”
To attain this crown, the essential thing is to cultivate virtue
and flee from vice. Now, like the good ascetic that he is, and
like the faithful descendant of the Greek tradition that he also
is, Seneca associates the former with the internal and invisible
soul, and the latter with the external and visible body. Thus
he arrives at the distinction of soul and body, with the cor-
ollary doctrine of the infinite superiority of the former: he
who would seek virtue, and he who would sin no more, must
cease caring for the body.
In a number of passages, Seneca points out the baseness of
the body. “Leave the body, as something rotten.” “It is
useless and decaying flesh, good only for receiving food, as
Posidonius said.”* “Restrain your body as much as you
are able, and give the place to the soul.” “The body is to
be treated severely, lest the soul perish miserably.” He
speaks of the body as “corpusculum,” and says that “even if
nothing can be done without it, consider it a necessary thing
rather than a great one.” It is able to and does make life
miserable,” and is a punishment.” “The body is a burden
to the soul and a punishment; the soul is constantly distressed
by it and in its chains,” a doctrine familiar since the
45 Ep. 51, 10–11.
46 Ep. 78, 16, 4.
47 Ep. 120, 17.
48 Ep. 92, 10.
49 Ep. 15, 2.
50 Ep. 8, 5.
51 Ep. 22, 6.
52 Ep. 22, 3.
b3 Ep. 120, 14.
54 Ep. 65, 16.
117
advent of Orphism, but which Seneca undoubtedly took from
Plato. “This little body is a jailer and chain for the soul.”
“These bones which you see thrown about us, and the nerves
and the skin stretched over them, and the face and hands and
the other things in which we are enclosed, are chains and
shadows of the soul. The soul is buried in them, it is choked,
slain, turned from the truth and driven into falsity by them.
All life is a bitter struggle with this flesh.” But Seneca
remembers all the while that the body is a necessary thing,
and says that one “may indulge the body as much as is neces-
sary for good health.” “I admit that a care for our bodies
is laid upon us; I admit that we have a wardship over them.
I do not say that the body is not to be cared for; I deny that
it is to be served. For he serves many things who serves the
body, who fears it too much, who refers all things to it. If
it is necessary for us to care for it, it is not that we should
live for the sake of the body, but that we cannot live without
it. Love of it disturbs us with fears, burdens us with cares,
exposes us to injury. Honor is base to him to whom the body
is too dear. We should most diligently control our concern
for it, so that if reason demands, or dignity or honesty, we
may consign it to the flames.” The body is therefore what
is really at the bottom of all our troubles, and we would be
better off without it: “if souls only remained free from
bodies, their state would be happier than when they are in
them.”59
But the body, while being the chief source of evil, is not
the only one. At other times he attributes wickedness to the
things of the world, and particularly what he calls the
“crowd’’: his contempt for this has already been mentioned,
but he did not stop at contempt, but went on to teach that it
55 Dial. xii 11, 7.
58 Dial. vi 24, 5.
57 Ep. 8, 5.
58 Ep. 14, 1–2.
59 Ep. 76,25.
118
was inherently wicked. “Do you inquire what I think you
should particularly avoid? The crowd. Conversation with
many is hurtful; there is no one who will not commend some
vice or press it upon you, or color it over for you unawares.
Therefore the greater the number of people we are associated
with, the greater is our danger.” But the “crowd’” is not
the only thing either: from every quarter come temptations
which seek to destroy us. “We should therefore direct our
course so that we may be able to flee as far as possible from
inducements to vice. The soul is to be toughened and with-
drawn far from the allurements of pleasure. One winter
undid Hannibal, and the delicacies of Campania effeminated
the man unconquered by the snows of the Alps. He con-
quered with arms, but was conquered by vices.” A par-
ticular source of temptation he saw in the theater, which he,
like Plato, condemned as subversive of good morals. “Really
there is nothing so destructive to good morals as to sit in
some theater. Because of the spectacle, vices break forth
more easily.”
It was an orthodox Stoic doctrine that the sage is superior
to external circumstances, for he will rise above them. Thus
“Canopus does not prevent any one from being good, nor does
Laia itself.” Nevertheless, discretion is sometimes the bet-
ter part of valor, and it is consequently desirable to flee
temptation, as was shown in the quotations in the preceding
paragraph: a philosophic retreat is urged, and he remarks
that “no one thinking of a retreat would ever choose Cano-
pus.” In several of his letters he expatiates upon the
advantages of a retreat from the world and its justifications.
“I approve of your plan: conceal yourself in ease—but also
flee ease itself. If this is not to be justified from the prin-
60 Ep. 7, 1–2.
61 Ep. 51, 5–6.
62 Ep. 7, 2.
68 Ep. 51, 3.
64 Ep. 51, 3.
119
ciples of the Stoics, you know that at least it is permitted
from their example. But you may also do this according to
their precepts; you will be approved both by yourself and
whomever you wish. We should not concern ourselves with
every matter, nor always nor unlimitedly. Moreover, as we
Stoics give the wise man a commonwealth worthy of him, that
is, the universe, he is not beyond public matters, even if he
goes into retreat; but on the contrary, if only a small corner
is left for him, it being placed in the heavens, he knows that
he is in a greater place than before, when he ascended to the
magistrate’s seat or the tribunal, or when he sat in a humble
place.” “Do you ask me what pleases me most of those
things which I hear about you? It is when I hear nothing
at all, and when many of those whom I question do not know
what you are doing. It is a good thing to have nothing to
do with different persons, and those desiring different things.
. . . I am not afraid that they may change you, but that they
may impede you.” “‘You order me to avoid the crowd 3’
you ask, ‘and to go into retreat? Where, then, are your pre-
bepts which say that we should die in action ?? Well, what I
seem to urge upon you, I perform myself, withdrawing and
closing my doors, in order that I may be able to advance as
much as possible. . . . I withdraw not so much from men
as from things, and particularly from my own things: I work
for posterity.”
This mere withdrawal from worldly affairs, however, was
not all. Sometimes he made it include a life of ascetic dis-
cipline, at least upon certain days. “I should like to tempt
the strength of your soul in another way,” he wrote to Luculus,
“ and teach you something from the precepts of great men.
Set apart certain days, upon which to be content with very
little and vile food, and with rough and prickly clothing, so
that you can say to yourself, ‘Is this what was feared ?’ In
65 Ep. 68, 1–2; cf. 36, 1.
66 Ep. 32, 2.
67 Ep. 8, 1–2.
120
its present security, the mind thus prepares itself for diffi-
culties, and in the midst of benefits, strengthens itself against
the injuries of fortune.” The justification here is as
typical as the act justified.
Thus certain austerities are recommended as a valuable
training. But Seneca was unwilling to recommend the ex-
cesses to which many persons were going in his day. “I
warn you lest, after the manner of those who do not desire
to progress but to be seen, you might do some things which
would make your costume or manner of life notable. Avoid
a cultivated filth, an unshorn head, a more neglected beard,
an advertised contempt for money, a bed on the ground, and
whatever else ambition seeks by a perverse way. . . . It is
contrary to nature to rack the body, to hate an easy cleanli-
ness, to seek filth, and to use food which is not so much cheap
as offensive and horrid. . . . Philosophy demands temper-
ance, not punishment, and there may be a decency of tem-
perance. . . . He is great who uses clay in the same way as
silver, nor is he less great who uses silver as though it were
clay.” Going further, he was disgusted by the mutilations
with which some zealots deformed themselves; “daily they
contrive means by which injury may be done to virility, while
others cut off their genitals.”
All the propositions which are fundamental to asceticism
are to be found, therefore, in Seneca: the body is bad and to
be suppressed, the world is the source of temptations and to
be fled, austerities are to be indulged in as training. In all
of this, Seneca was following the spirit of his time, and
rationalizing what multitudes of persons were then doing,
as was seen in the last chapter. He began his philosophic
career, as was seen, by eagerly practicing this popular asceti-
cism: his importance for the present study lies in the fact
that in later life he developed from this the philosophy of
68 Ep. 18, 5.
69 Ep. 5, 1, 2, 4, 5, 6.
70 Nat. Ques. vii. 31, 3.
121
asceticism which has just been outlined, and thus stated the
aspiration of the time in enduring words. He formulated a
view of life which made asceticism seem reasonable and de-
sirable, and which was destined to the greatest influence in
subsequent history. The Christians found this view of life
so congenial that they were unwilling to believe that its au-
thor was unacquainted with the Gospel, so forged a corre-
spondence between him and St. Paul which even deceived
Jerome and Augustine. And the sum and substance of this
world-view was that the world itself is fleeting and not to be
counted upon, and that the soul alone is stable and worthy of
the care of a wise man; that the body and all else which inter-
feres with the soul is to be shunned, or to receive as little
attention as possible; and that the really great man is the one
who neglects all for the cultivation of his soul. “Believe me,
those who seem to do nothing are really doing the greatest
things: they have to do at the same time with human things
and divine.”
III. If the attempt were being made here to give a com-
plete account of the asceticism of all the philosophical writers
who later had an influence upon Christian ascetics, consider-
able space would have to be devoted at this point to Philo of
Alexandria. For of all the writers of this period, Philo
probably had the greatest influence upon his Christian suc-
cessors,” and as asceticism plays a considerable rôle in his
philosophical system, it is but natural that his theory of
asceticism should be of equal importance. But as has already
been pointed out several times, there is no intention of here
discussing all the forerunners of Christian asceticism; we
must confine ourselves to those who are obviously in the Greek
tradition, that is, to those who received the majority at least
of their opinions from Greeks, and who passed theirs on
71 Ep. 8, 6.
72 Conybeare, Philo About the Contemplative Life (1895). Pp. x,
330, 328ff. -
122
to later Greeks. But Philo did neither of these things; he
was born and brought up a Jew and received his inspiration
from the Jews, though he took his material largely from the
Greeks; on the other hand, he always remained unknown to
later Greeks and his influence upon them was therefore in-
significant. Consequently Philo was an offshoot from the
Greek tradition, rather than a part of it, and outside the
proper field of the present study. Nevertheless, Philo was a
very typical representative of his time, and parts of his phi-
losophy represented what many Greeks were thinking at the
same time: in spite of his Jewish origin, Philo was pro-
foundly affected by Greek speculation. It will not be wholly
out of place, therefore, to summarize his ascetic thought
briefly, even though nowhere near the amount of space is
devoted to it which his influence upon Christian thought
would justify, if a general history of asceticism were being
written.”
In his moral system particularly, Philo was a Greek. He
had taken over from the Stoics the idea of the possibility of
moral progress, but the religious note in his system was much
stronger than in theirs, for he made the whole progress culmi-
nate in an ecstatic union with God—an idea frequently found
in the later mystics, and especially Plotinus. In his account
of the different virtues, too, Philo merely followed the Stoics
to a large extent. His portrait of the ideal sage, his em-
phasis upon internal, spiritual life (which is the center of his
moral system) and his ideas in regard to human fraternity
are as Stoical as is his abundant use of the allegorical method.
But Philo's asceticism seems to have been taken from a more
popular source, namely, the Cynics and such diatribe writers
as Musonius."* For him, as for them, it was pleasure, the
73 For an excellent account of the moral system of Philo, see Bréhier,
Les Idées philosophiques et religieuses de Philon d’Alexandrie (1907),
Bk. 3, ch. 3, pp. 250–310; cf. Bousset, Die Religion des Judentums
(1904), pp. 503ff.; Conybeare, Op. cit., pp. 265ff. -
74 Wendland, Philo wad die kynisch-stoische Diatribe (1895); Bréhier,
pp. 261ff.
123
chief evil, which was the cause of the fall of man, and of all
their vices and passions. Consequently, the most important
virtue was the one which was opposed to pleasure, namely,
temperance or continence. “He rejects and banishes all
luxury from life; he finds his ideal of life realized in the
community of Therapeutae. He regrets that the wise man
cannot destroy the desire for food, and that human nature is
driven to use food and drink.” He describes at length the
internal combat in which one should engage against pleasure,
passions and vices.” Virtue is to be acquired only after a
long series of pains and efforts, which constitutes a veritable
asceticism—both in the original sense of training and in the
derived sense of abstention. This asceticism consisted in
seeking virtue and in learning to despise false goods.” Dif-
ferent practices are recommended in different passages: read-
ing, exercise, practice of the cult, meditation upon the good,
the accomplishment of regular functions.” But the most
important things are struggle against temptation and the
inward life. This latter sometimes takes the form of retire-
ment from the world”—though in general Philo disapproved
of non-social hermits”—and sometimes of interior medita-
tion.** By such acts, one was trained to live virtuously, just
as the gladiator was trained for the contest.” By means of
them, a man might hope to arrive at last at that state for
which all should struggle, perfection.
At the same time as Philo (the last years before Christ
and the first after) came the great revival of Pythagorean
philosophy, which, as we have seen, contained a great deal of
75 Bousset, p. 511; Philo. Leg. All. III 141ſf.
76 Leg. All. II 79–108; III 118–160; etc.
77 de cong. er. gr. 24–34.
78 Leg. All. I 18; quis rer. div, her. 253.
79 de leg. spec. III 1; Bousset, p. 510.
80 de fuga 33ff.; Bréhier, p. 268.
81 de gig. 44. -
82 This figure, borrowed from the Cynics, is found frequently in Philo.
124
asceticism. Developing upon the number mysticism of the
earlier Pythagoreans, they taught that the One was to be
associated with God, and the Many with Matter, and from
this they deduced philosophical principles recommending the
subjugation of matter and a general asceticism. Continuing
the old belief about the transmigration of souls, they argued
for abstention from meat; their arguments for this are well
shown in Jamblichus’s work On Abstention from Animal
Food.” But Neo-Pythagoreanism never became a widely
accepted philosophy, especially in its metaphysical features.
Most of the persons who interested themselves in it were like
those who were described in the last chapter, who took it as
a popular ethical system. Its real significance as a philoso-
phy lies in the fact that it prepared the way for Neo-Plato-
nism. Just as centuries before Pythagorism had led up to
Platonism, so now the revised Pythagorism led up to a re-
vised Platonism.
IV. It has already been shown how closely the thought of
Plato was related to the environment which produced it: as
a result of the activity of the sophists during the fifth century
B.C., the old ideals and aspirations of the Athenians had been
shattered, and their old values reduced to nought; to some
minds, and especially to Plato's, this destructive work of the
sophists seemed to lead to ruin, and the mainspring which
drove his entire philosophical activity was the desire to show
that ideals do have a real existence, in fact, a realer existence
than any other things, and that they are more worthy of our
efforts than anything else; this was the sum and substance
of the Platonic teaching. But while this destructive work
against which Plato revolted is generally laid to the sophists,
it was really due to the general evolution of the times, and to
the political and social situation of Athens. Now, during
the closing centuries of the history of the pagan world, this
83 For a general account of Neo-Pythagoreanism, see Zeller, vol. 3, pt.
2, pp. 110–139.
125
same situation was repeated. The Hellenic civilization was
losing its force, and again old ideals were falling into decay.
A reading of Lucian should convince anyone of that. As the
present seemed unable to produce anything worth while, se-
rious minds turned more and more to the past, and all sorts
of methods were attempted to reinstate the old ideals which
had made possible the Greek civilization. The allegorical
method of the Stoics is an early example of this; by it they
attempted to make the old myths and beliefs credible once
more. But as time went on things grew worse, and other
methods were tried. The last of these was an attempted re-
vival of Platonic philosophy. It was no wonder that the men
of the third century felt an especial attraction for Plato,
for he had faced a situation much like theirs; they found a
kindred mind in him, and the answers he gave to the great
problems were taken up with eagerness by these disciples
centuries later. Hence the rise of Neo-Platonism. But the
Neo-Platonists did not confine themselves to taking over
Plato; continuing the eclecticism which had marked Greek
philosophy for several centuries, they also drew heavily upon
Aristotle and the Stoics, while their immediate source of
origin seems to have been Neo-Pythagoreanism. The influ-
ence of oriental speculation, and especially of gnosticism, was
also marked.* In the main, however, Neo-Platonism was a
continuation and revival of Platonism.
The school of the Neo-Platonists claimed Ammonius Saccas
as its founder. This philosopher flourished in Alexandria
about the year 200 A.D. He wrote nothing himself, but in-
spired a large number of pupils, who perpetuated the system
which he had formulated. From his time until the end of
the Greek world, Neo-Platonism was the predominating phi-
losophy. During this period the School produced many
writers, but among these the most eminent and the most
84 For the question of the relations of Neo-Platonism and Gnosticism,
see C. Schmidt, Plotins Stellung gum Gnosticismus und kirchlichen Chris-
tentum, Texte und Untersuchungen, N.F. iv, 1901.
126
typical was Ammonius's own pupil, Plotinus. His Enneads
are the classical exposition of Neo-Platonic philosophy. In
our search for the ascetic theory of the school, we cannot do
better than turn to them.
Plotinus was born at Lykopolis in Egypt in 204 or 205.
He early devoted himself to the study of philosophy at Alex-
andria, where he came in contact with Ammonius. In 242
he set out for Persia with the expedition of the Emperor Gor-
dianus, to study the philosophy of the Persians and Hindus;
but as the emperor was killed in Mesopotamia, the expedition
was a failure, and Plotinus went to Antioch. Two years later
he went to Rome, where he taught philosophy until his death
in 269 or 270.
His pupil and biographer Porphyry tells us that he was so
ashamed of having a body that he never spoke of his parents
who had given him one.” In regard to his own ascetic life,
we are told that “he never ate the flesh of domestic animals,
much less of wild ones. He never bathed, but contented him-
self with having his body rubbed every day; when those who
performed this office died of a plague which was then making
great ravages, he dispensed with this, too, which interruption
gave him quins.y.” Ascetic practices were common among
Plotinus’s pupils, too. Thus Rogotianus, a Roman senator,
who applied himself to the study of philosophy under Ploti-
nus, “became so detached from the things of this world that
he abandoned his property, dismissed his domestics, and re-
nounced his dignities. Having been named praetor, at the
moment of entering upon his duties, when the lictors already
awaited him, he determined not to go out or to exercise any of
the functions of this office. He was not even willing to live
in his house, but went to his friends' houses. There he ate
and slept. He only took food one day in two, and by this
regimen, after having been so afflicted with gout that he had
85 Porph. Vit. Plot. 1.
86 Ibid. 2.
127
to be carried about in a chair, he regained his strength and
stretched out his hands as easily as a mechanic, though he had
been unable to make any use of them before. Plotinus had a
great friendship for him; he praised him highly and held
him up as a model to those who wished to become philoso-
phers.” But the importance of Plotinus is not in what he
did, but in what he taught. In his essays, a theory of asceti-
cism is developed which represents the highest point attained
by the Greeks in ascetical doctrine. As the essays were ar-
ranged by his pupil Porphyry according to subject matter,
most of his remarks upon the subject are collected in the first
Ennead, which treats of morals, though numerous passages in
other parts of the work either amplify the theory or its meta-
physical background.
Fundamental to the whole philosophy of Plotinus is his dis-
tinction between the intelligible and the sensible worlds.
Like all idealists, Plotinus posited another world above the
one with which his senses made him acquainted—a world
known by the mind alone, but one which was, in the fullest
sense of the term, the only real world. In this world he
located all that was good or beautiful or intelligent, or that
had being. It was the abode of the gods. It was complete
and self-sufficient, had need of nothing, was the measure and
end of all things, and was eternal; it was the only reality.
But it was not all of a piece: like the Christian God, it was a
trinity, having three hypostases or principles. The lowest of
these was the Universal Soul, the second the Divine Intelli-
gence, and the highest or first, the Good or the One. The One
was the principle “upon which all depends, though it depends
upon nothing itself.” This first principle, the Good or Ab-
solute Being or the One, or even God as it is sometimes called,
was therefore the center upon which all things were focused,
the end towards which all things strove, even the rest of the
intelligible world which was lower in the hierarchy. “The
87 Ibid. 7.
128
Universal Soul directs all its activity towards the Supreme
intelligence and, in a way, lives only by it. Moving around
it and about it according to the laws of harmony, the Uni-
versal Soul attached its regards upon it, and penetrating into
its most intimate depths by contemplation, it thus beholds God
himself. It is in this that the serene and happy life of the
gods consists, which is a life where evil has no place.” The
first principle was the center of the universe, towards which
all things were drawn by a sort of Platonic ēpos; this first
principle was the highest good.
Sharply opposed to this intelligible world was the sensible
world, made up of material things. Just as the other world
was the essence of the good, this sensible world was the
essence of evil; as it was one, this was many; as it was
Being, this was non-Being; as it was spiritual, this was
material. This matter was the visible sign of the sensible
world, as well as being the cause of its baseness. Plotinus's
denunciations of matter are numerous. “Matter does not
possess being; it is truly said to be the non-being.” “The
nature of bodies, in so far as it partakes of matter, is an
evil.” “The cause of evil is therefore the presence of
matter in sensible things.” Matter is the mark of evil,
but its essence is something else. “To determine better the
nature of evil, we may think of it as the lack of measure as
measure is concerned, as indetermination in regard to a goal,
as the lack of form in relation to the principle which is crea-
tive of form, as eternal need as compared with that which is
self-sufficient, as perpetual illimitation and mutability, and
finally as absolute instability and indigence. That which is
the subject of the form, the determination, the limitation, that
88 Enn. I 8, 2. As there is no good English translation of Plotinus,
this and the following extracts are based on the Greek text and the
admirable French translation of Bouillet.
89 IS, 5.
90 IS, 5.
91 I 8, 4.
129
which owes its ornaments to other things and has nothing
good of its own, that which in relation to true beings is only
a vain image, in a word, the essence of evil if such an essence
of evil is possible, that is what reason obliges us to recognize
as the first evil, as Evil-in-itself. The nature of bodies,
in so far as it participates in matter, is evil; for it has a
certain form, though this form is nothing real; moreover, it is
deprived of life, as bodies corrupt one another mutually; they
are in a perpetual flux, contrary to the immutable nature of
essences; therefore they constitute the second evil.” The
sensible world, then, is a vain and inglorious and unreal one,
and one can already foresee a teaching that it is to be
shunned.
But the earth itself is not so bad after all: the Universal
Soul is infused into it, and gives it a certain amount of
beauty. In the essay on the Three Hypostases, there are
many eloquent passages describing the beauty which the world
thus receives. “The presence of the Soul has made an ad-
mirable whole out of that which was before an inert cadaver,
earth and water, or rather shades of matter, non-being, an
object of horror to the gods, as the poet says.” “If the
heaven, the sun and the stars are gods, this is due to the
presence of the Soul. It is through this that we ourselves
become something; a corpse is more vile than a dung-heap.”
“Without a soul, every body is but earth; it is the soul which
gives the body its beauty.” Elsewhere it is said that bodies
“become beautiful by participating in a reason coming from
God.”96
As this Universal Soul extends everywhere, there is really
nothing absolutely without it, and therefore nothing abso-
lutely and utterly base; everything which we see about us is
92 I 8, 3–4.
98 v 1, 2.
24 V 1, 2.
95 V 1, 2.
96 I 6, 2.
10
130
a mixture of matter and soul, but the best example of this
fusion of body and soul is man himself. Man is double,
made up of a material body and a soul “which is a god which
came from on high to dwell in us.” This soul, therefore,
is in value far superior to anything which we possess: “strip
it of all that envelops it, regard it in its purity, and you
will see how precious is the essence of the soul, and how far
superior it is to every body.” Such being the value of
the soul, one should devote the greatest pains to its care, but
owing to its very union with the body, the soul becomes
impure.
“We would be correct in saying that the soul becomes ugly
by mixing itself with the body and matter, in uniting itself
to it, in inclining towards it. Ugliness of the soul consists
in not being pure and unalloyed, as that of gold is being
defiled with particles of earth.” Though the soul is never
completely united with matter, but always separated some-
what from it, matter “attempts to penetrate into the place
occupied by the soul, but all this place is sacred, for nothing
is there deprived of the soul. Matter, in exposing itself to
the rays of the soul, is illuminated by it, but cannot receive
into itself the principle illuminating it. In fact, this latter
does not allow of matter, though it be present, nor even see
it, for it is evil. Matter darkens and enfeebles the light
which is shed upon it, for it adds its own shadows. It gives
the soul occasion for generation, by offering free access to
itself: for if matter were not present, the soul would not
approach it. To descend thus into matter is the fall of the
Soul.”100
Here is the old, old story of the fall; men are now in their
present unhappy state because they have fallen from the glory
97 I2, 6.
os VI, 2.
99 I 6, 5.
100 I 3, 14; cf. I 8, 4.
131
that once was theirs. Time and time again it has been seen
that this doctrine leads directly to asceticism: men should try
to regain their primitive state, and to do so, they must give
themselves over to all sorts of ascetic practices. But before
turning to this, how did the fall come about? Plotinus is
very explicit in one passage. “How does it come about that
having a divine nature, being issue from God, souls do not
realize this or their own value? The origin of their evil is
audacity, generation, the original diversity, the desire to be-
long to no one but themselves.” As soon as they had tasted
the pleasure of possessing an independent life, using freely of
the power which they had to move, they advanced in the road
leading them from their origin so that now they have arrived
at such an estrangement from God that they do not know that
they received their life from him.”
Fallen though it may be, however, the soul still remains
related to the divine, and may return to it; the soul relates us
to the divine, and opens up to us a means of advancing
towards it. “Since the essence of the soul is so divine and
precious, be persuaded that by it you may attain to God; with
it, raise yourself to him. You do not have to seek him far
away; there are not many intermediaries between him and
you. To attain to him, take as your guide the most divine
and loftiest part of your soul, the power from which it pro-
ceeds and by which it touches the intelligible world.”
There is always a way, therefore, to return to the state from
which the soul once fell, “to become again that which it was
originally”;” the soul supplies this means, but just how %
A general answer is to be given first. “Life in a body is in
itself an evil; but by virtue, the soul places itself in the
101 ‘‘C’est-à-dire le desire qui a conduit les àmes à se séparer primi-
tivement de Dieu et à s”unir aux corps.”—Bouillet, Fr. tr. of Plot,
interpolation, vol. iii, p. 3.
102 V 1, 1.
108 V 1, 3.
104 I2, 6.
***
132
good, by not conserving this union with the body, but by
separating itself from it.” But now what is virtue? and
just what does he mean by separating the soul from the body?
“Since evil reigns here below and inevitably dominates
in this world, and since the soul wishes to flee evil, it is
necessary to flee from this world. But what is the way to do
so? It is, according to Plato, to resemble God. We shall
succeed by regulating ourselves according to justice, holiness,
wisdom and virtue in general.” But by virtue he does
not mean what he calls the civil virtues, prudence, courage or
temperance. “These give us a certain resemblance with
God, but it is through virtues of a superior order that we
become completely like him.” The virtuous man will
certainly exercise these inferior virtues, but he will transform
them, and will not confine himself to these. He will “ad-
vance to the virtues of a superior order and form himself
according to their rules. For example, he will not make
temperance consist only in being moderate, but he will try to
separate himself more and more from matter; he will not be
contented with leading the life of a good man, as demanded
by the civil virtues, but will aspire to still higher, to the
life of the gods. It is they, and not merely good men whom
we must resemble. To seek merely to resemble good men
would be to make an image similar to another image. The
assimilation which we prescribe consists in taking a superior
being as model.” No, civil virtues are bodily affairs, and
those who would seek the highest good should use the soul,
for this is the part of man which approaches the nearest
to God. “The soul, which by its nature is closer to the
divine essence than the body, by that very fact participates in
it to a greater degree.” It is these virtues of the soul
105 I 7, 3.
106 I2, 1; cf. I 8, 7.
107 I2, 1.
108 I2, 7.
109 I2, 2.
133
which one must cultivate, if he is to approach God. Plo-
tinus's interpretation of the story of Hercules, the patron god
of the Cynics and Stoics, well illustrates his thought upon
this point. “Hercules's virtue was active, and because of
his great qualities he was judged worthy of being admitted
to the rank of the gods; but as he possessed the active virtue
only, and not the contemplative virtue, he could not be ad-
mitted wholly into heaven; therefore, while a part of him
is in heaven, a part is also in Hades.”
But what was the nature of this true virtue? how was one
to learn it 2 Plotinus says that “to convert souls to God, to
elevate them to the Supreme Principle, to the One, to the
First, one must reason with them in two ways. In the first
place, he must show the baseness of the objects which they
now esteem, and then he must remind them of the origin and
dignity of the soul.” To these two points, the insignif-
icance of external things and the infinite value and dignity
of the soul, Plotinus gives much attention.
In a long passage he sets forth in veritably Stoic terms
the truth that happiness does not depend upon external
things.” “The wise man will not make his fate depend
upon the happiness of others.” “It is the duty of virtue to
improve upon the ordinary state of human nature and to
lead it to that which is most beautiful, elevating itself above
the opinion of the vulgar. It is beautiful not to cede to that
which the vulgar ordinarily regard as evils.” In general,
“the world offers a spectacle of injustice and disorder, for
our nature is mortal, and we dwell in an inferior place.”
The sensible world is distinctly inferior and its goods should
therefore not be sought after.
110 T 1, 12.
111 V1, 1.
112 I4, 6ff.
113 I4, 7.
114 I.4, 8.
115 I 8, 6.
134
“Though the vulgar man may be rich, beautiful, great, and
though he may command all others, thus enjoying all the ter-
restrial benefits, it is not necessary to envy him for the deceitful
pleasures which he derives from these advantages. The wise man
will not possess them at first, perhaps, but if he does, he will
diminish them of his own free will, if he has the care for himself
which he should have; by a voluntary negligence, he will weaken
and Sully the advantages of the body; he will renounce his dig-
nities; though preserving the health of his body, he will not de-
sire to be entirely exempt from illness and suffering; if he does
not know these evils, he will wish their acquaintance in his youth;
but when he has arrived at old age, he will not wish to be bothered
any more, either by pains or by pleasures, or anything else, sad
or agreeable, which is relative to the body, so as not to be obliged
to give it his attention.” “In fact, it would be denying the
very essence of happiness to regard exterior objects as the desire
of a virtuous man.” “A man cannot be wise, nor conse-
quently happy, as long as he has not yet succeeded in ridding
himself of these vain notions, has not completely transformed
himself, is not sure of being protected from all evil; it is only
then that he can live without being agitated by any fear.”
On the other hand is the soul, opposed to the material
world, and without its failings; it is to the cultivation of this
that the virtuous man will devote his attention. As the activ-
ity of the soul is associated with that of the intelligence, care
of the soul consists in developing the intellect, and the life of
the soul is the intellectual life. “The perfect, veritable and
real life is in the intelligence.” “A man has the perfect
life when he possesses, in addition to the sensitive life, reason
and veritable intelligence.” “Reduced to intelligence, the
soul sees its beauty increase; in fact, its proper beauty is
the intelligence with its ideas; it is when it is united with the
116 I4, 14.
117 I4, 11.
118 I 4, 15.
119 I4, 3.
120 I4, 4.
135
intelligence that the soul is really isolated from all the
rest.” “Thus intelligence is ours, but in the sense that
the soul is intelligent: for us, the intellectual life is a superior
life. The soul enjoys this life when it thinks of intelligible
beings, or when the intelligence is active in us. The in-
telligence is at once a part of ourselves and a superior thing
to which we raise ourselves.” We make use of this
superior principle when we direct the medium part of our
being either towards the superior world or the inferior
world.” “Men triumph over evil by the aid of those facul-
ties which are not engaged in matter.” It is this in-
tellectual life which unites men to God.” -
The man who has a care for his soul will therefore seek
to lead the intellectual life; the virtuous man is the one who
does do so. The virtuous man or sage is recognizable,
therefore, by two qualities: his serenity, which is the result
of his not caring for external and transitory goods, and his
contemplative life, by which he raises his soul to God. “The
virtuous man is therefore always serene, calm, satisfied; if
he is really virtuous, his state cannot be troubled by any
of the things which we call evils.” This serenity is a
good thing in itself, but its greatest value is that it makes
possible the contemplative life.
“It is necessary that the soul contemplate the Universal Soul;
now in order to raise itself to this contemplation, the soul must
be worthy of it by its nobility, it must be emancipated from error
and freed from the objects which fascinate the regard of vulgar
souls, it must be plunged into a profound meditation and must
calm not only the agitation of the body which envelops it and the
tumult of the senses, but also everything which surrounds it.
121 I6, 6.
122 I 2, 1.
123 I 1, 11,
124 I 8, 5.
125 I, 2, 4; 8, 7; 4, 16; V 1, 6; 1, 11; etc.
128 I 4, 12.
136
Then may all be calm, the earth, the sea, the air and heaven
itself.”127
This contemplation is the highest activity which the soul
can perform. “The good of the soul is to remain united to
the intelligence to which it is sister; its evil is to abandon
itself to contrary things. After having purified the soul,
therefore, it is necessary to unite it to God: to unite it to
God, it is necessary to turn it towards him. . . . The virtue
of the soul does not consist in this conversion, but in what it
obtains by this conversion. But what does it obtain?—the
intuition of the intelligible world.” When carried to its
extreme, this contemplation results in ecstacy, and thus
ecstacy is the highest good possible for man, for it is union
with God. When this is achieved, every lower activity of
the soul, and even thought itself disappears, for the soul is
then united to something which is above thought; it has no
movement or life or opinion or consciousness; it is not even
any longer a soul or a self, but a pure and motionless rest
in God; it is raised above beauty and virtue and knowledge
into a state of ecstacy, of resignation into the Eternal, which
can only be compared to drunkenness or the insanity of
love.” Thus the soul is united to the First Principle; God
not only appears to it, but God and the soul are no longer
two, but an inseparable unity; the soul becomes pure light,
free from all heavy things, it becomes God, or rather, realizes
that it is God.” This state is to be attained only by a
renunciation of all things and prayer. “Let us first invoke
God himself, not by pronouncing words, but by elevating our
soul to him in prayer; now the only way to pray is to
advance solitarily towards the One who is solitary. To con-
template the One, it is necessary to withdraw into one’s own
conscience, as though into a temple, and to remain there
127 W 4, 12.
128 I 2, 4.
129 W 3, 1; 8, 11; VI 7, 35; 9, 10.
180 VI 9, 10; W 8, 11; VI 7, 34–35; 9, 9–11.
137
tranquil and in ecstacy.” Porphyry tells us that his
master entered into this ecstacy four times during the six
years of their acquaintance.”
The ascetic character of Plotinus’s philosophy is already
obvious. The end and aim which every man who does not
wish to be called “vulgar’” should hold before himself is to
turn away from all the things of the world, to separate himself
from all material things and especially from his body, and to
seek union with the divine. His philosophy is permeated
with a longing and striving after better things, after self-
improvement, but these better things are not things of this
world at all, and the criterion of self-improvement is de-
tachment from the world. “Plotinus’s moral system has a
predominatingly negative character,” said Zeller.” But in
order to make the nature of this separation of soul and body,
and of this striving for superior things, more clear, let us
quote, in closing, a few more passages in which these subjects
are dealt with more explicitly.
“That which constitutes a man, and especially a virtuous man,
is not the compound of soul and body; as is proven by the
power which the soul has of separating itself from the body, and
despising what are ordinarily called goods.”
“Evils cannot be abolished. Then how can one flee them P It
is not by changing place, says Plato, but by acquiring virtue and
separating oneself from the body; for that is also separating one-
self from matter, since whatever is attached to the body is also
attached to matter. Plato also explains what it is to be sep-
arated from the body, or not to be separated from it, and finally
what it is to be near the gods: it is to be united to intelligible
objects, for it is to these objects that immortality belongs.”
181 V1, 6.
132 Porph. Wit. Plot. 23. For Plotinus's views in regard to this
ecstacy, see Zeller, Philos. d. Griechen, III 2, pp. 611–19.; Drews, Plotin,
pp. 271–90; for contemplation, Drews, pp. 269–71.
138 Zeller, III 2, p. 599.
184 I 4, 14.
135 I 8, 7.
138
“Happiness is not found in the life of the vulgar. Plato is
right in saying that one must quit the earth to rise to the Good,
and that to become wise and happy, one must turn his regard
towards the Good alone, seek to become like it and to lead a life
in conformity with its. As a matter of fact, this should suffice
to the wise man to attain his end; and he should no longer at-
tach any value to other things, which are mere changes in space,
and can add nothing to happiness.”
“The soul is evil, in so far as it is associated with the body and
participates in its passions and opinions; it becomes better, and
enters into possession of virtue, only when, instead of following
the body, it thinks by itself (which is true thought and consti-
tutes prudence), when it ceases to share in its passions (which is
temperance), when it does not fear being separated from the
body (which is courage), and finally, when reason and intelli-
gence command and are obeyed (which is justice). Without
danger of deceiving ourselves, we may say that the condition of
a soul thus regulated, a soul thinking of intelligible things and
remaining calm, is what is really resemblance with God: for
that which is pure is divine, and such is the nature of divine
action that whatever initiates it already possesses wisdom.”
“What shall we make real temperance consist in, if not in re-
fusing to attach oneself to the pleasures of the body, and in fleeing
them as though they were impure and proper only for an impure
being? Does not courage consist in not fearing death, which is
nothing other than separation of soul and body? Then how could
he who wishes to isolate himself from the body fear death?
Grandeur of soul is merely despising the things here below.
Finally, real prudence is thought, which, being detached from
earth, raises the soul to the intelligible world. A purified soul
becomes a form, a reason, an incorporeal and intelligible essence;
it belongs wholly to the divinity, in whom is the source of the
beautiful and all the qualities which have an affinity with it.”
“The soul separates itself from the body when, abandonning the
various places where it was spread, it retires into itself; when it
186 I 4, 16. -
187 I 2, 3.
188 I6, 6.
139
becomes entirely foreign to the passions; when it allows the body
only those pleasures which are necessary, or adapted to cure it
from its pains, to relieve it of its fatigues, or to prevent it from
becoming importune; when it becomes insensible to sufferings, or,
if that is not within its power, when it supports them patiently
and diminishes them by taking no part in them ; when it ap-
peases anger as much as possible and even Supresses it entirely,
if it can, but if it cannot, its does not participate in it at all, but
leaves to the animal nature all thoughtless passions, while reduc-
ing them and weaking them as much as possible; when it is
absolutely immune from fear, having nothing more to be afraid
of; when it suppresses every sudden movement, except the nat-
ural warnings of approaching danger. Obviously the purified
Soul should desire nothing disgraceful: in eating and drinking,
it will seek only the satisfaction of a need, while remaining a
stranger to it; no more will it seek out the pleasures of love, or if
it does desire them, it will not go beyond that which nature de-
mands, resisting every thoughtless passion, and not going beyond
the involuntary impulses of the imagination. In a word, the soul
will be pure of all these passions and will even wish to purify the
irrational part of our being in such a way as to preserve it from
emotions, or at least to diminish the number and intensity of
these emotions, and to appease them by its presence.”
Such was the asceticism taught by Plotinus; it may be
taken as the clearest expression of what was taught by the
entire Neo-Platonic school. But it must not be thought that
with Plotinus, Greek speculation came to an end; on the
contrary, the Neo-Platonic school continued to exist for over
two hundred years after his time. His own pupil Porphyry
continued to teach Neo-Platonism and asceticism after him;
Porphyry was succeeded by Jamblichus, who in his turn had
many pupils. Finally, in the fifth century, came Proclus,
the last of the Greek philosophers worthy of mention. The
Neo-Platonic tradition continued down to the end of the
Greek world, therefore, and was the last that the Greeks had
189 I2, 5.
140
to say on the subject of philosophy—though by no means the
best. However, the followers of Plotinus added little that
was new to his system: the fundamental propositions of the
intelligible and sensible worlds, the dual nature of man, and
the desirability of devoting all one’s efforts to striving towards
the intelligible world, were retained, and continued to be the
guiding principles of the philosophy. Nevertheless, after
Plotinus, the expressions of this philosophy became ever
weaker and more chaotic and confused, and more and more
mingled with superstitions and non-Greek elements. The
leaders of the school came from all parts of the world and
were not Greeks by blood at all, which fact reacted visibly
upon their thought; in the first chapter of the present study
we saw also that the revival of primitive Greek superstitions
at this time was so great that Miss Harrison has been able to
quote Porphyry and Jamblichus to illustrate ideas which
she found behind the very early rites of the Greeks. The
subsequent development of Neo-Platonism was merely a de-
generation and a watering-out of the thought of Plotinus. In
the later period, too, Neo-Platonism took on more and more a
distinctly religious coloring; this was particularly the case
after Jamblichus.” In the course of this development,
asceticism came to receive a constantly increasing attention
from the followers of the school: a little must therefore be
said in closing in regard to the nature of this ascetical thought.
Porphyry continued to teach the radical dualism of soul
and body which his master had taught, and continued the
teaching that the soul was what united one to God: omne
corpus esse fugiemdum, ut anima possit beata permanere cum
Deo, he is reported to have said.” Love of God and love
of body are two incompatible things;*** fondness for one
140 Zeller, III 2, p. 714: ‘‘Der Neuplatonismus durch ihn zuerst ganz
entschieden in den Dienst der Religion trat, und aus einer philosophischen
Lehre zu einer theologischen Doctrin wurde. Das gleiche bestätigt aber
auch die Geschichte Seiner Schule, so weit sie uns bekannt ist.’’
141 Augustine, Civ. Dei, X 29.
142 ad Marc. 14.
141
necessarily excludes desire for the goods of the other; he who
seeks higher things must renounce the pleasures of the body
and the desire for them, and by philosophical endeavours
loosen the band by which the soul is chained to the body.”
All sensuous pleasures are to be resolutely repressed; even
moderate sexual indulgence is forbidden,*** as are the theater,
dancing, horse-races, and the like.” Especial emphasis is
laid upon abstinence from flesh food, to which subject he
devoted a whole treatise; it would be a good thing, he thinks,
if we could do without any food at all, but since we must
have it, we should take only that which is simplest and most
innocent;” asceticism must be expressed not only by a
mental withdrawal from worldly interests, but also by ex-
ternal acts which chastise the body. For the body is at
best merely a garment of the soul, which one should lay aside
if he is to win the victor’s crown; it is not only base, a
hindrance to him, and irreconcilable with higher aspirations,
but it is also positively injurious, polluting one through the
demons which adhere to it.” Thus pollution again appears
in an important rôle in Greek thought; as a matter of fact,
purifying virtues (cadaptucaſ) are second in Porphyry’s hier-
archy of virtues. First are political virtues; then the purify-
ing virtues by which advance is made, which consist in freeing
oneself from earthly things, and which end in apathy; third
comes the positive corollary of these virtues, namely, the
raising of the soul to God; and finally are the “paradig-
matic” virtues, those of the vots itself.” Though purifying
virtue is not the highest, it is, nevertheless, according to
Porphyry, the one most essential for men, for it is neces-
sarily preliminary to all the others, and their foundation.**
143 de Abst. I 33.
144 de Abst. IV 20; Sent. 34.
145 de Abst. I 33
146 de Abst. IV 20.
147 de Abst. I 31; II 46.
148 Semt. 34.
149 Sent. 34.
142
Thus asceticism, world-denial and world-flight become the
essential elements of a moral life.
Asceticism holds an equally important place in the system
of Jamblichus. Like the other Neo-Platonists, he held to
the dualism of the intelligible and sensible worlds, located
the soul midway betwen the two, and spoke of methods of
“purification” by which it might rise to the higher. Just
as the soul might rise to the rank of the angels, it might also
fall to the place of demons; in fact, the body is once more
taught to be the outward and visible sign of the fact that the
soul has fallen from a former loftier abode. But Jamblichus
added nothing new ; his ethical system is merely a popular
philosophy in the spirit of his school.”
Thus Greek philosophy gradually faded away. As time
went on, Greek thought became vaguer and vaguer, and more
and more childish and superstitious, and cared less and less
for the world of the senses, giving all its attention to the
intelligible world and denouncing such things as marrying
and giving in marriage or even eating and drinking, until,
like the grasshoppers in Plato's fable quoted above, it “forgot
and died, and went to the Muses in heaven.” But before it
passed away, most of it that was of value had been assimilated
by the Christians. After the third century, the intellectual
leadership of the Greek world was in their hands; they then
took over all that Hellas had to give which was good; but
after that time, Hellas contributed nothing new. With Neo-
Platonism, therefore, the field which we marked out for our
study has been covered. -
150 Zeller, III 2, p. 712: “Im iibrigen enthalten die zahlreichen Ueber-
bleibsel seiner ethischen Abhandlungen (in Strobăus’ Florilegium) kaum
etwas anders, als eine popularphilosophische Moral im Geist Seiner
Schule.’’
CONCLUSION
In the preceding pages, the gradual development of Greek
ascetical thought has been traced from the early rites of purſ

ssa wºes”"
fication through abstinence, up to Platonic and Neo-Platonic
idealism. The existence of these primitive rites in early
Greece has been established; it has been shown how the Or-
phics, in pre-Socratic times, while attempting to interpret
these rites, developed theories in regard to a dual world,
marked respectively by body and soul, taught the infinite su-
periority of the latter, and urged men to chastise their sinful
bodies for the good of their souls; Plato accepted this dual-
istic theory, and made it the basis of his philosophy. Thus,
the fundamental view of the world which is at the botto
reek (and Christian) asceticism was clearly stated by the
time of Plato; his successors had nothing to add to this.
Nevertheless, the development of asceticism during the age
following Plato was enormous. It has been shown how, be-
ginning in the first century B.C., a wave of asceticism swept \

*** ****** *** ****** * * ~~~~~~ * :
over the whole Greek world, which became more and more
powerful as time went on. World-flight and other-worldli-
ness were the characteristic features of the thought of decay-
ing Greece; they were one of the important contributions of
Hellas to Christianity. This has been shown, but before the
present study is brought to a close, a few general remarks.
bearing upon the transference of this asceticism into Chris-
tianity must be made. . -
In the first place, it should be pointed out that this study
of Greek asceticism has further illustrated the truth of the
remark already made by others that asceticism is not the rela-
tively rare phenomenon which some have imagined it, but
that on the contrary, it is an essential element of every reli-
143
144
gion." According to the classic views of Greek life, the
Greek religion, if any, should have been free from such tend-
encies, but it has been shown that even here, asceticism played
a considerable rôle. Of course, these tendencies varied in
intensity at different times, but they were never wholly lack-
ing. The explanation of this fact is to be found in the nature
and function of religion itself. Every society has certain
collective ideas and ideals in regard to life and the world
upon which its whole social superstructure is built, and which
are its characterizing feature; if these ideals lose the support
of men, the society itself will perish. It is the function of
religion to inspire men with these ideals. Now, these ideals
, always require that a man should not devote his entire atten-
tion to his own material gain, but should have some regard
for other things of a more distinctly social nature; these are
called “higher ” things—things such as truth, justice, or the
glory of God, to cite a few common examples. If religion is
successful in its function, then, it will lead men to forsake
their material gain sometimes for these higher things, and a
very common method for teaching them to do this is to insist
upon the lesser value of these material gains. It is inevita-
le, moreover, that in every Society some-persons will exag-
gerate this teaching and thus become ascetics. It is for this
reason that asceticism is to be found in all known religions.
In the case of Christianity, it existed to a certain extent from
the very start, but during the early centuries these initial
germs were developed to an enormous degree. It is in this
that Hellenic influence is observable, for at first the asceti-
cism was largely of Jewish or Gnostic origin.
In the second place, a few words must be said upon the
determining causes of the development of asceticism. Little
attention has been devoted to this problem in the preceding
pages, for an effort has been made to limit the discussion to
1. Durkheim, The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life, pp. 316ff.
(Eng. tr.).
145
the question of what Hellenic asceticism was, not why it was;
nevertheless a few words have necessarily been devoted to this
second question as well. It has been shown that asgeticism ... … "
seems to increase as social and economic conditions in the
world grow worse. When the world is no longer able to
please men, and they are dissatisfied with it, they frequently
turn to asceticism. In every social state there will be some
persons who do this, but in evil days, these people will be par-
ticularly numerous: as a society fails and fades away, asceti-
cism will become more noticeable. Asceticism has thus been
spoken of as an “old man’s philosophy,” and such it is to an
eminent, though not to an exclusive degree. The reason for
this fact is obvious: the decay of society is attributed to a
falling away from the old ideals, so many persons try to save
the situation by making unusual efforts to remain true to
them. Thus the decadent Athens of the fourth century pro-
duced Plato, who eloquently urged a return to the old ideals,
even at the expense of the body. This same Athens produced
the Cynics, who differed greatly from Plato both in the spirit
and the letter of their teaching, but who agreed with him that
higher things should be sought at the expense of the body.
Inversely, we find that during the prosperous period follow-
ing the conquests of Alexander, asceticism was reduced to a
minimum. But social conditions in the Roman Empire, and
particularly in the eastern part of it, were especially well
adapted to the production of ascetic ideals, and the result was
the great ascetic movement described in the last three chap-
ters. In spite of the many blessings brought by the Romans
in the form of stable government and the like, society was
rushing to ruin. Though it was by no means the only one,
still it cannot be denied that one of the causes of this decay
was the sensual indulgence of the people; they no longer re-
mained true to their old ideals, nor did they find newer or
better ones. It became obvious that if society was to con-
tinue to exist, men would have to care less for their bodily
146
pleasures and more for ideal things. Hence came the rise of
asceticism. Now it was into this world that Christianity,
with many other new religions, entered, bringing a message
of redemption; but the only form of redemption then possible
was through an ascetic idealism. It was only because it pre-
sented just such an asceticism that Christianity was able to.
save civilizatio n. “x-g . * : * * * *
It therefore seems as though Christianity had been predes-
tined to an ascetic character; not only did it need to have that
quota of asceticism which is common to all religions, but also
the unusually strenuous asceticism demanded by the world
which it entered. It is certain that the early Christians, in
adapting their religion to the needs of their age, did give it
such a nature. But what were the sources from which they
derived their ascetic ideals 2 The present study has at-
tempted to present some of them, though not by any means
all of them. How did the early Christians draw upon these
sources? This is a question for another study, and is beyond
the range of the present one. What we have attempted to do
is to present some of these sources—the ascetic features of
the Greek world which Christianity entered—and thus pre-
pare the way for a study of this larger question.
147
VITA
I, Joseph Ward Swain, was born at Yankton, South Da-
kota, on December 16, 1891, the eldest son of Henry Hunt-
ington and Myra (Olmstead) Swain. I spent my childhood
and youth, and received my early education in Dillon, Mon-
tana. After spending two years in Beloit College, at Beloit,
Wisconsin, I entered Columbia College as a junior in 1910.
I received the A.B. degree from Columbia in 1912, and at
that time was elected to the Phi Beta Kappa society. I was
awarded the Chanler Historical Prize for an essay on “Cal-
houn and the Annexation of Texas.” The following year I
spent in graduate study at Harvard University, from which
institution I received the degree of A.M. in 1913. From
1913 to 1915 I was in Europe, studying especially at the
University of Paris, but also carrying on private studies at
Leipzig and London. During both winters I was regularly
enrolled at the “Ecole Pratique des Hautes Études, Section
des Sciences Religieuses,” at the University of Paris; at the
end of the first year I was promoted to the grade of “élève
titulaire,” and at the end of the second I presented a disserta-
tion entitled “Hebrew and Early Christian Asceticism.”
Owing to the turmoils of war, the faculty have not yet passed
upon this dissertation, but in case it is accepted, I shall receive
the grade of “6lève diplomé” of the section. The year
1915–16 I spent in graduate study at Columbia. I have
translated into English the work of Professor Émile Durk-
heim, of Paris, entitled “The Elementary Forms of the Reli-
gious Life” (London: George Allen & Unwin, Ltd.; New
York: The Macmillan Company, 1915, pp. xi + 456).
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