Apollonius of Tyana, the Philosopher-Reformer of the First Century A.D Part 6

But though Apollonius was an unflinching task-master unto himself, he did not wish to impose his mode of life on others, even on his personal friends and companions (provided of course they did not adopt it of their own free will). Thus he tells Damis that he has no wish to prohibit him from eating flesh and drinking wine, he simply demands the right of refraining himself and of defending his conduct if called on to do so (ii. 7). This is an additional indication that Damis was not a member of the inner circle of discipline, and the latter fact explains why so faithful a follower of the person of Apollonius was nevertheless so much in the dark.

Not only so, but Apollonius even dissuades the Rajah Phraotes, his first host in India, who desired to adopt his strict rule, from doing so, on the ground that it would estrange him too much from his subjects (ii.

37).

Three times a day Apollonius prayed and meditated; at daybreak (vi. 10, 18; vii. 31), at mid-day (vii. 10), and at sun-down (viii. 13). This seems to have been his invariable custom; no matter where he was he seems to have devoted at least a few moments to silent meditation at these times. The object of his worship is always said to have been the Sun, that is to say the Lord of our world and its sister worlds, whose glorious symbol is the orb of day.

We have already seen in the short sketch devoted to his Early Life how he divided the day and portioned out his time among his different cla.s.ses of hearers and inquirers. His style of teaching and speaking was the opposite of that of a rhetorician or professional orator. There was no art in his sentences, no striving after effect, no affectation. But he spoke as from a tripod, with such words as I know, Methinks, Why do ye, Ye should know. His sentences were short and compact, and his words carried conviction with them and fitted the facts. His task, he declared, was no longer to seek and to question as he had done in his youth, but to teach what he knew (i. 17). He did not use the dialectic of the Socratic school, but would have his hearers turn from all else and give ear to the inner voice of philosophy alone (iv. 2). He drew his ill.u.s.trations from any chance occurrence or homely happening (iv. 3; vi.

3, 38), and pressed all into service for the improvement of his listeners.

When put on his trial, he would make no preparation for his defence. He had lived his life as it came from day to day, prepared for death, and would continue to do so (viii. 30). Moreover it was now his deliberate choice to challenge death in the cause of philosophy. And so to his old friends repeated solicitations to prepare his defence, he replied:

Damis, you seem to lose your wits in face of death, though you have been so long with me and I have loved philosophy een from my youth;[114] I thought that you were both yourself prepared for death and knew full well my generalship in this. For just as warriors in the field have need not only of good courage but also of that generalship which tells them when to fight, so too must they who wisdom love make careful study of good times to die, that they may choose the best and not be done to death all unprepared. That I have chosen best and picked the moment which suits wisdom best to give death battle--if so it be that any one should wish to slay me--Ive proved to other friends when you were by, nor ever ceased to teach you it alone (vii. 31).

The above are some few indications of how our philosopher lived, in fear of nothing but disloyalty to his high ideal. We will now make mention of some of his more personal traits, and of some of the names of his followers.

SECTION XIV.

HIMSELF AND HIS CIRCLE.

Apollonius is said to have been very beautiful to look upon (i. 7, 12; iv. 1);[115] but beyond this we have no very definite description of his person. His manner was ever mild and gentle (i. 36; ii. 22) and modest (iv. 31; viii. 15), and in this, says Damis, he was more like an Indian than a Greek (iii. 36); yet occasionally he burst out indignantly against some special enormity (iv. 30). His mood was often pensive (i.

34), and when not speaking he would remain for long plunged in deep thought, during which his eyes were steadfastly fixed on the ground (i.

10 et al.).

Though, as we have seen, he was inflexibly stern with himself, he was ever ready to make excuses for others; if, on the one hand, he praised the courage of those few who remained with him at Rome, on the other he refused to blame for their cowardice the many who had fled (iv. 38). Nor was his gentleness shown simply by abstention from blame, he was ever active in positive deeds of compa.s.sion (cf. vi. 39).

One of his little peculiarities was a liking to be addressed as Tyanean (vii. 38), but why this was so we are not told. It can hardly have been that Apollonius was particularly proud of his birth-place, for even though he was a great lover of Greece, so that at times you would call him an enthusiastic patriot, his love for other countries was quite as p.r.o.nounced. Apollonius was a citizen of the world, if there has ever been one, into whose speech the word native-land did not enter, and a priest of universal religion in whose vocabulary the word sect did not exist.

In spite of his extremely ascetic life he was a man of strong physique, so that even when he had reached the ripe age of four-score years, we are told, he was sound and healthy in every limb and organ, upright and perfectly formed. There was also a certain indefinite charm about him that made him more pleasant to look upon than even the freshness of youth, and this even though his face was furrowed with wrinkles, just as the statues in the temple at Tyana represented him in the time of Philostratus. In fact, says his rhetorical biographer, report sang higher praises over the charm of Apollonius in his old age than over the beauty of Alcibiades in his youth (viii. 29).

In brief, our philosopher seems to have been of a most charming presence and lovable disposition; nor was his absolute devotion to philosophy of the nature of the hermit ideal, for he pa.s.sed his life among men. What wonder then that he attracted to himself many followers and disciples!

It would have been interesting if Philostratus had told us more about these Apollonians, as they were called (viii. 21), and whether they const.i.tuted a distinct school, or whether they were grouped together in communities on the Pythagorean model, or whether they were simply independent students attracted to the most commanding personality of the times in the domain of philosophy. It is, however, certain that many of them wore the same dress as himself and followed his mode of life (iv.

39). Repeated mention is also made of their accompanying Apollonius on his travels (iv. 47; v. 21; viii. 19, 21, 24), sometimes as many as ten of them at the same time, but none of them were allowed to address others until they had fulfilled the vow of silence (v. 43).

The most distinguished of his followers were Musonius, who was considered the greatest philosopher of the time after the Tyanean, and who was the special victim of Neros tyranny (iv. 44; v. 19; vii. 16), and Demetrius, who loved Apollonius (iv. 25, 42; v. 19; vi. 31; vii.

10; viii. 10). These names are well known to history; of names otherwise unknown are the Egyptian Dioscorides, who was left behind owing to weak health on the long journey to Ethiopia (iv. 11, 38; v. 43), Menippus, whom he had freed from an obsession (iv. 25, 38; v. 43), Phdimus (iv.

11), and Nilus, who joined him from Gymnosophists (v. 10 _sqq._, 28), and of course Damis, who would have us think that he was always with him from the time of their meeting at Ninus.

On the whole we are inclined to think that Apollonius did not establish any fresh organisation; he made use of those already existing, and his disciples were those who were attracted to him personally by an overmastering affection which could only be satisfied by being continually near him. This much seems certain, that he trained no one to carry on his task; he came and went, helping and illuminating, but he handed on no tradition of a definite line, and founded no school to be continued by successors. Even to his ever faithful companion, when bidding him farewell for what he knew would be the last time for Damis on earth, he had no word to say about the work to which he had devoted his life, but which Damis had never understood. His last words were for Damis alone, for the man who had loved him, but who had never known him.

It was a promise to come to him if he needed help. Damis, whenever you think on high matters in solitary meditation, you shall see me (viii.

28).

We will next turn our attention to a consideration of some of the sayings ascribed to Apollonius and the speeches put into his mouth by Philostratus. The shorter sayings are in all probability authentically traditional, but the speeches are for the most part manifestly the artistic working-up of the rough notes of Damis. In fact, they are definitely declared to be so; but they are none the less interesting on this account, and for two reasons.

In the first place, they honestly avow their nature, and make no claim of inspiration; they are confessedly human doc.u.ments which endeavour to give a literary dress to the traditional body of thought and endeavour which the life of the philosopher built into the minds of his hearers.

The method was common to antiquity, and the ancient compilers of certain other series of famous doc.u.ments would have been struck with amazement had they been able to see how posterity would divinise their efforts and regard them as immediately inspired by the source of all wisdom.

In the second place, although we are not to suppose that we are reading the actual words of Apollonius, we are nevertheless conscious of being in immediate contact with the inner atmosphere of the best religious thought of the Greek mind, and have before our eyes the picture of a mystic and spiritual fermentation which leavened all strata of society in the first century of our era.

SECTION XV.

FROM HIS SAYINGS AND SERMONS.

Apollonius believed in prayer, but how differently from the vulgar. For him the idea that the G.o.ds could be swayed from the path of rigid justice by the entreaties of men, was a blasphemy; that the G.o.ds could be made parties to our selfish hopes and fears was to our philosopher unthinkable. One thing alone he knew, that the G.o.ds were the ministers of right and the rigid dispensers of just desert. The common belief, which has persisted to our own day, that G.o.d can be swayed from His purpose, that compacts could be made with Him or with His ministers, was entirely abhorrent to Apollonius. Beings with whom such pacts could be made, who could be swayed and turned, were not G.o.ds but less than men.

And so we find Apollonius as a youth conversing with one of the priests of sculapius as follows:

Since then the G.o.ds know all things, I think that one who enters the temple with a right conscience within him should pray thus: Give me, ye G.o.ds, what is my due! (i. 11).

And thus again on his long journey to India he prayed at Babylon: G.o.d of the sun, send thou me oer the earth so far as eer tis good for Thee and me; and may I come to know the good, and never know the bad nor they know me (i. 31).

One of his most general prayers, Damis tells us, was to this effect: Grant me, ye G.o.ds, to have little and need naught (i. 34).

When you enter the temples, for what do you pray? asked the Pontifex Maximus Telesinus of our philosopher. I pray, said Apollonius, that righteousness may rule, the laws remain unbroken, the wise be poor and others rich, but honestly (iv. 40).

The belief of the philosopher in the grand ideal of having nothing and yet possessing all things, is exemplified by his reply to the officer who asked him how he dared enter the dominions of Babylon without permission. The whole earth, said Apollonius, is mine; and it is given me to journey through it (i. 21).

There are many instances of sums of money being offered to Apollonius for his services, but he invariably refused them; not only so but his followers also refused all presents. On the occasion when King Vardan, with true Oriental generosity, offered them gifts, they turned away; whereupon Apollonius said: You see, my hands, though many, are all like each other. And when the king asked Apollonius what present he would bring him back from India, our philosopher replied: A gift that will please you, sire. For if my stay there should make me wiser, I shall come back to you better than I am (i. 41).

When they were crossing the great mountains into India a conversation is said to have taken place between Apollonius and Damis, which presents us with a good instance of how our philosopher ever used the incidents of the day to inculcate the higher lessons of life. The question was concerning the below and above. Yesterday, said Damis, we were _below_ in the valley; to-day we are _above_, high on the mountains, not far distant from heaven. So this is what you mean by below and above, said Apollonius gently. Why, of course, impatiently retorted Damis, if I am in my right mind; what need of such useless questions?

And have you acquired a greater knowledge of the divine nature by being nearer heaven on the tops of the mountains? continued his master. Do you think that those who observe the heaven from the mountain heights are any nearer the understanding of things? Truth to tell, replied Damis, somewhat crestfallen, I _did_ think I should come down wiser, for Ive been up a higher mountain than any of them, but I fear I know no more than before I ascended it. Nor do other men, replied Apollonius; such observations make them see the heavens more blue, the stars more large, and the sun rise from the night, things known to those who tend the sheep and goats; but how G.o.d doth take thought for human kind, and how He doth find pleasure in their service, and what is virtue, righteousness, and common-sense, that neither Athos will reveal to those who scale his summit nor yet Olympus who stirs the poets wonder, unless it be the soul perceive them; for should the soul when pure and unalloyed essay such heights, I swear to thee, she wings her flight far far beyond this lofty Caucasus (ii. 6).

So again, when at Thermopyl his followers were disputing as to which was the highest ground in Greece, Mt. ta being then in view. They happened to be just at the foot of the hill on which the Spartans fell overwhelmed with arrows. Climbing to the top of it Apollonius cried out: And I think _this_ the highest ground, for those who fell here for freedoms sake have made it high as ta and raised it far above a thousand of Olympuses (iv. 23).

Another instance of how Apollonius turned chance happenings to good account is the following. Once at Ephesus, in one of the covered walks near the city, he was speaking of sharing our goods with others, and how we ought mutually to help one another. It chanced that a number of sparrows were sitting on a tree hard by in perfect silence. Suddenly another sparrow flew up and began chirping, as though it wanted to tell the others something. Whereupon the little fellows all set to a-chirping also, and flew away after the new-comer. Apollonius superst.i.tious audience were greatly struck by this conduct of the sparrows, and thought it was an augury of some important matter. But the philosopher continued with his sermon. The sparrow, he said, has invited his friends to a banquet. A boy slipped down in a lane hard by and spilt some corn he was carrying in a bowl; he picked up most of it and went away. The little sparrow, chancing on the scattered grains, immediately flew off to invite his friends to the feast.

Thereon most of the crowd went off at a run to see if it were true, and when they came back shouting and all agog with wonderment, the philosopher continued: Ye see what care the sparrows take of one another, and how happy they are to share with all their goods. And yet we men do not approve; nay, if we see a man sharing his goods with other men, we call it wastefulness, extravagance, and by such names, and dub the men to whom he gives a share, fawners and parasites. What then is left to us except to shut us up at home like fattening birds, and gorge our bellies in the dark until we burst with fat? (iv. 3).

On another occasion, at Smyrna, Apollonius, seeing a ship getting under weigh, used the occasion for teaching the people the lesson of co-operation. Behold the vessels crew! he said. How some have manned the boats, some raise the anchors up and make them fast, some set the sails to catch the wind, how others yet again look out at bow and stern.

But if a single man should fail to do a single one of these his duties, or bungle in his seamanship, their sailing will be bad, and they will have the storm among them. But if they strive in rivalry each with the other, their only strife being that no man shall seem worse than his mates, fair havens shall there be for such a ship, and all good weather and fair voyage crowd in upon it (iv. 9).

Again, on another occasion, at Rhodes, Damis asked him if he thought anything greater than the famous Colossus. I do, replied Apollonius; the man who walks in wisdoms guileless paths that give us health (v.

21).

There is also a number of instances of witty or sarcastic answers reported of our philosopher, and indeed, in spite of his generally grave mood, he not unfrequently rallied his hearers, and sometimes, if we may say so, chaffed the foolishness out of them (see especially iv. 30).

Even in times of great danger this characteristic shows itself. A good instance is his answer to the dangerous question of Tigellinus, What think you of Nero? I think better of him than you do, retorted Apollonius, for you think he ought to sing, and I think he ought to keep silence (iv. 44).

So again his reproof to a young Crsus of the period is as witty as it is wise. Young sir, he said, methinks it is not you who own your house, but your house you (v. 22).

Of the same style also is his answer to a glutton who boasted of his gluttony. He copied Hercules, he said, who was as famous for the food he ate as for his labours.

Yes, said Apollonius, for he was Hercules. But _you_, what virtue have you, midden-heap? Your only claim to notice is your chance of being burst (iv. 23).