path: root/77014-0.txt

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77014 ***






                               SELECT WORKS
                                    OF
                                 PORPHYRY;

                                CONTAINING
                             HIS FOUR BOOKS ON
                       ABSTINENCE FROM ANIMAL FOOD;
                              HIS TREATISE ON
                      THE HOMERIC CAVE OF THE NYMPHS;
                                  AND HIS
                                AUXILIARIES
                                  TO THE
                    PERCEPTION OF INTELLIGIBLE NATURES.

                        _TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK_

                                    BY
                              THOMAS TAYLOR.

                                   WITH
                               AN APPENDIX,
           EXPLAINING THE ALLEGORY OF THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES.
                            BY THE TRANSLATOR.

           Και ουτω θεων και ανθρωπων θειων και ευδαιμονων βιος,
           απαλλαγη των αλλων των τῃδε, ανηδονος των τῃδε, φυγη
           μονου προς μονον.—PLOTINI Op. p. 771.

                                  LONDON:
                                PRINTED FOR
                  THOMAS RODD, 17, GREAT NEWPORT STREET.
                                   1823.

                                  LONDON:
                   PRINTED BY J. MOYES, GREVILLE STREET.




                                    TO

                      THE REV. WILLIAM JOHN JOLLIFFE,

                  AS A TESTIMONY OF GREAT ESTEEM FOR HIS
                            TALENTS AND WORTH,

                AND A TRIBUTE OF THE WARMEST GRATITUDE FOR
                              HIS PATRONAGE,

                          THIS WORK IS DEDICATED

                           _BY THE TRANSLATOR_,

                              THOMAS TAYLOR.




INTRODUCTION.


Porphyry, the celebrated author of the treatises translated in this
volume, was dignified by his contemporaries, and by succeeding
Platonists, with the appellation of _the philosopher_, on account of his
very extraordinary philosophical attainments. He is likewise called by
Simplicius, _the most learned of the philosophers_, and is praised by
Proclus for his ιεροπρεπη νοηματα, or _conceptions adapted to sanctity_;
the truth of all which appellations is by the following treatises most
abundantly and manifestly confirmed.

A few biographical particulars only have been transmitted to us
respecting this great man, and these are as follow. He was born at Tyre,
in the twelfth year of the reign of the Emperor Alexander Severus, and
in the two hundred and thirty-third of the Christian era; and he died at
Rome, when he was more than seventy years old, in the latter part of the
Emperor Dioclesian’s reign. He was also a disciple first of Longinus,
and afterwards of the great Plotinus, with whom he became acquainted in
the thirtieth year of his age; and it is to Porphyry we are indebted
for the publication of the inestimable and uncommonly profound works
of that most extraordinary man. For, as I have observed in my History
of the Restoration of the Platonic Theology, it was a long time before
Plotinus committed his thoughts to writing, and gave the world a copy
of his inimitable mind. That light which was destined to illuminate the
philosophical world, as yet shone with solitary splendour, or beamed
only on a beloved few; and it was through Porphyry alone that it at
length emerged from its sanctuary, and displayed its radiance in full
perfection, and with unbounded diffusion. For Porphyry, in the language
of Eunapius, “like a Mercurial chain let down for the benefit of mortals,
unfolded every thing with accuracy and clearness, by the assistance of
universal erudition.”

We are likewise informed, by the same Eunapius, that Porphyry, when
he first associated with Plotinus, bade farewell to all his other
preceptors, and totally applied himself to the friendship of that
wonderful man. Here he filled his mind with science, as from a perennial
and never-satiating fount. But afterwards, being conquered, as it were,
by the magnitude of his doctrines, he conceived a hatred of body, and
could no longer endure the fetters of mortality.—“Hence,” says he[1],
“I formed an intention of destroying myself, which Plotinus wonderfully
perceived; and as I was walking home, stood before me, and said, _Your
present design, O Porphyry, is not the dictate of a sound intellect, but
rather of a soul raging with an atrabilarious fury_. In consequence of
this he ordered me to depart from Rome; and accordingly I went to Sicily,
having heard that a certain worthy and elegant man dwelt at that time
about Lilybæum. And thus, indeed, I was liberated from this perturbation
of soul; but was, in the meantime, hindered from being with Plotinus till
his death.”

Porphyry also maintains a very distinguished rank among those great
geniuses who contributed to the development of the genuine dogmas of
Plato, after they had been lost for upwards of five hundred years; as
I have shown in my above-mentioned History of the Restoration of the
Platonic Theology. Among these dogmas, that which is transcendently
important is this,—that the ineffable principle of things, which is
denominated by Plato _the good_ and _the one_, is something superior to
intellect and being itself. This, as we are informed by Proclus, was
demonstrated by Porphyry, by many powerful and beautiful arguments,
in his treatise Concerning Principles, which is unfortunately lost.
And this dogma, which was derived principally from the 6th book of the
Republic, and the Parmenides, of Plato, and was adopted by all succeeding
Platonists, is copiously unfolded, and the truth of it supported by
reasoning replete with what Plato calls geometrical necessities, by those
two great philosophical luminaries Proclus and Damascius[2]; the former
of whom was the Coryphæus of the Platonists, and the latter possessed a
profoundly investigating mind.

Of the disciples of Porphyry the most celebrated was Iamblichus, a man
of an uncommonly penetrating genius, and who, like his master Plato,
on account of the sublimity of his conceptions, and his admirable
proficiency in theological learning, was surnamed _the divine_. This
extraordinary man, though zealously attached to the Platonic philosophy,
yet explored the wisdom of other sects, particularly of the Pythagoreans,
Egyptians, and Chaldeans; and formed one beautiful system of recondite
knowledge, from their harmonious conjunction[3].

With respect to the works of Porphyry which are translated in this
volume, the first, which is _On Abstinence from Animal Food_, is a
treatise not only replete with great erudition, but is remarkable for the
purity of life which it inculcates, and the sanctity of conception with
which it abounds. At the same time it must be remembered, that it was
written solely, as Porphyry himself informs us, with a view to the man
who wishes in the present life to liberate himself as much as possible
from the fetters of the corporeal nature, in order that he may elevate
his intellectual eye to the contemplation of _truly-existing being_
(το οντως ον,) and may establish himself in deity as in his paternal
port[4]. But such a one, as he beautifully observes, must divest himself
of every thing of a mortal nature which he has assumed, must withdraw
himself from sense and imagination, and the irrationality with which
they are attended, and from an adhering affection and passion towards
them; and must enter the stadium naked and unclothed, striving for the
most glorious of all prizes, the Olympia of the soul[5]. Hence, says
he, “my discourse is not directed to those who are occupied in sordid
mechanical arts, nor to those who are engaged in athletic exercises;
neither to soldiers nor sailors, nor rhetoricians, _nor to those who lead
an active life_[6]; but I write to the man who considers what he is,
whence he came, and whither he ought to tend, and who, in what pertains
to nutriment and other necessary concerns, is different from those who
propose to themselves other kinds of life; _for to none but such as these
do I direct my discourse_[7].” This treatise, also, is highly valuable
for the historical information which it contains, independently of the
philosophical beauties with which it abounds.

The _Explanation of the Homeric Cave of the Nymphs_, which follows next,
is not only remarkable for the great erudition which it displays, but
also for containing some profound arcana of the mythology and symbolical
theology of the Greeks.

And the third treatise, which is denominated _Auxiliaries to the
Perception of Intelligibles_, may be considered as an excellent
introduction to the works of Plotinus in general, from which a great
part of it is extracted, and in particular, to the following books of
that most sublime genius, viz. On the Virtues[8]; On the Impassivity
of Incorporeal Natures[9]; and On Truly-Existing Being, in which it is
demonstrated that such being is every where one and the same whole[10].
This Porphyrian treatise, also, is admirably calculated to afford
assistance to the student of the Theological Elements of Proclus, a work
never to be sufficiently praised for the scientific accuracy, profundity
of conception, and luminous development of the most important dogmas,
which it displays.

In the fourth place, Porphyry, in his treatise On the Cave of the Nymphs,
having informed us, that Numenius, the Pythagorean, considered the person
of Ulysses, in the Odyssey, as the image of a man who passes in a regular
manner over the stormy sea of generation, or a sensible life, and thus at
length arrives at a region where tempest and seas are unknown, and finds
a nation

    “Who ne’er knew salt, or heard the billows roar:”

I have endeavoured, by the assistance of this intimation, to unfold,
in the Appendix which concludes the work, the secret meaning of the
allegory; and, I trust, in a way which will not be deemed by the
intelligent reader either visionary or vain.

With respect to the translation of the treatises, I have endeavoured
faithfully to preserve both the matter and manner of the author; and
have availed myself of the best editions of them, and, likewise, of all
the information which appeared to me to be most important, and most
appropriate, from the remarks of critics and philologists, but especially
from the elucidations of philosophers. This, I trust, will be evident
from a perusal of the notes which accompany the translation.

Of all the other writings of Porphyry, besides those translated in this
volume, few unfortunately have been preserved entire[11], the greater
part of what remains of them being fragments. Among these fragments,
however, there is one very important, lately found by Angelus Maius,
and published by him, Mediol. 1816, 8vo. It is nearly the whole of the
Epistle of Porphyry to his wife Marcella, in which I have discovered
the original of many of the Sentences of the celebrated Sextus
Pythagoricus[12], which have been hitherto supposed to be alone extant
in the fraudulent Latin version of the Presbyter Ruffinus. And for
an account of the other entire works and fragments that are extant,
and also of the lost writings of Porphyry, I refer the reader to the
Bibliotheca Græca of Fabricius, and to my before-mentioned History of
the Restoration of the Platonic Theology; in which latter work, in
speaking of Porphyry’s lost treatise on the Reascent of the Soul, I have
given a long and most interesting extract relative to that treatise,
from Synesius on Dreams.


FOOTNOTES:

[1] In Vit. Plotin.

[2] See the 2d book of my translation of Proclus on the Theology of
Plato, and the Introduction to my translation of Plato, and notes on the
3d volume of that translation.

[3] See my translation of his Life of Pythagoras, and also of his
treatise on the Mysteries. The Emperor Julian says of Iamblichus, “that
he was posterior in time, but not in genius, to Plato himself.”

[4] Such a man as this, is arranged by Plotinus in the class of _divine
men_, in the following extract from my translation of his treatise
on Intellect, Ideas, and Real Being, Ennead V. 9. The extract, which
is uncommonly beautiful in the original, forms the beginning of the
treatise. “Since all men, from their birth, employ sense prior to
intellect, and are necessarily first conversant with sensibles, some,
proceeding no farther, pass through life, considering these as the first
and last of things, and apprehending, that whatever is painful among
these, is evil, and whatever is pleasant, is good; thus, thinking it
sufficient to pursue the one and avoid the other. Those, too, among
them, who pretend to a greater share of reason than others, esteem this
to be wisdom; being affected in a manner similar to more heavy birds,
who, collecting many things from the earth, and being oppressed with the
weight, are unable to fly on high, though they have received wings for
this purpose from nature. But others are in a small degree elevated from
things subordinate, the more excellent part of the soul recalling them
from pleasure to a more worthy pursuit. As they are, however, unable
to look on high, and as not possessing any thing else which can afford
them rest, they betake themselves, together with the name of virtue, to
actions and the election of things inferior, from which they at first
endeavoured to raise themselves, though in vain. _In the third class is
the race of divine men_, who through a more excellent power, and with
piercing eyes, acutely perceive supernal light, to the vision of which
they raise themselves, above the clouds and darkness, as it were, of this
lower world, and there abiding, despise every thing in these regions of
sense; being no otherwise delighted with the place which is truly and
properly their own, than he who, after many wanderings, is at length
restored to his lawful country.”

[5] Page 23.

[6] The translator of this work, and of the other treatises contained
in this volume, having been so circumstanced, that he has been obliged
to mingle the active with the contemplative life (μετα θεωρητικου νου
πολιτευομενος) in acquiring for himself a knowledge of the philosophy of
Plato, and disseminating that philosophy for the good of others, has also
found it expedient to make use of a fleshy diet. Nothing, however, but an
imperious necessity, from causes which it would be superfluous to detail
at present, could have induced him to adopt animal, instead of vegetable
nutriment. But though he has been nurtured in Eleatic and Academic
studies, yet it has not been in Academic bowers.

[7] Page 19.

[8] Ennead I. 2.

[9] Ennead III. 6.

[10] Ennead VI. lib. 4, 5.

[11] For even with respect to the treatise On Abstinence from Animal
Food, there is every reason to believe that something is wanting at the
end of it.

[12] See the Latin translation of these Sentences by Ruffinus, in the
Opuscula Mythologica of Gale. The Sentences which are to be found in this
Epistle of Porphyry, were published by me, with some animadversions, in
the Classical Journal, about two years ago; but on account of the great
importance of these Sentences, and for the sake of those who may not have
this Journal in their possession, I shall here repeat what I have there
said on this subject.

After having premised that great praise is due to the editor for the
publication of this Epistle, but that, as he has taken no notice of the
sources whence most of the beautiful moral sentences with which this
Epistle abounds, are derived, it becomes necessary to unfold them to the
reader, particularly as by this means several of the Sentences of Sextus
Pythagoricus may be obtained in the original Greek;—I then observe:

Previous, however, to this development, I shall present the reader
with the emendation of the following defective sentence in p. 19: Το
δε πεπαιδευσθαι ουκ εν πολυμαθειας αναληψει ... παλαξει δε των ψυχικων
παθων εθεωρειτο. The editor, not being an adept in the philosophy of
Pythagoras and Plato, conceived that παλαξει was a genuine word; for he
remarks, “Nota vocabulum παλαξις,” whereas it is only a part of a word,
_i.e._ it is a part of απαλλαξει. Hence, if after αναληψει, the words
εν απαλλαξει are inserted, the sentence of Porphyry will be perfect both
in its construction and meaning, and will be in English, “Erudition
does not consist in the resumption of polymathy, but is to be surveyed
in a liberation from the passions pertaining to the soul.” The editor,
not perceiving the necessity of this emendation, has, by the following
version, totally mistaken the meaning of the sentence: “Bonam autem
institutionem nunquam æstimem, quæ cum eruditionis copia, animalium
quoque passionum contaminatione sordescat.”

The first sentence of which I have discovered the source, is from Sextus,
and is the following, in p. 23: θεος μεν γαρ δειται ουδενος· σοφος δε
μονου θεου: _i.e._ “For God is not in want of any thing; but the wise
man is alone in want of God.” This, in the version of Ruffinus, is: “Deus
quidem nullius eget, fidelis autem Dei solius.” (Vid. Opusc. Mytholog.
8vo. 1688, p. 646.)

2. Πασης πραξεως και παντος εργου και λογου θεος εποπτης παρεστω και
εφορος, (p. 24): _i.e._ “Of every action, and of every deed and word,
God is present as the scrutator and inspector.” This is evidently derived
from the following sentence of Demophilus, (Opusc. Mythol. p. 621): Εαν
αει μνημονευης, οτι οπου αν ἦ η ψυχη σου, και το σωμα εργον αποτελει,
θεος εφεστηκεν εφορος, εν πασαις σου ταις ευχαις και πραξεσιν, αιδεσθησῃ
μεν του θεωρου το αληστον, εξεις δε τον θεον συνοικον, _i.e._ “If you
always remember, that wherever your soul, or your body, performs any
deed, God is present as an inspector, in all your prayers and actions,
you will reverence the nature of an inspector, from whom nothing can
be concealed, and will have God for a cohabitant.” What immediately
follows in this paragraph is from Sextus, viz. και παντων ων πραττομεν
αγαθων τον θεον αιτιον ηγωμεθα: _i.e._ “Of all the good that we do, we
should consider God as the cause.” And Sextus says, p. 648. “Deus in
bonis actibus hominibus dux est.” Porphyry adds: Των δε κακων αιτιοι
ημεις εσμεν οι ελομενοι, θεος δε αναιτιος. And the latter part is
evidently from Sextus, who says, p. 648, “Mali nullius autor est Deus.”
Porphyry further adds: Οθεν και ευκταιον τα αξια θεου· και αιτωμεθα ἃ
μη λαβοιμεν αν παρ’ ετερου· και ων ηγεμονες οι μετ’ αρετης πονοι, ταυτα
ευχομεθα γενεσθαι μετα τους πονους: _i.e._ “Hence we should ask of God
things which are worthy of him, and which we cannot receive from any
other. The goods also, of which labours are the leaders, in conjunction
with virtue, we should pray that we may obtain after the labours [are
accomplished].” All this is from Sextus. For, in p. 648, he says: “Hæc
posce à Deo, quæ dignum est præstare Deum. Ea pete à Deo, quæ accipere
ab homine non potes. In quibus præcedere debet labor, hæc tibi opta
evenire post laborem.” Only, in this last sentence, Ruffinus has omitted
to add, after _labor_, the words _cum virtute_. What Porphyry says,
almost immediately after this, is precisely the first of the Sentences of
Demophilus, (Opusc. Mythol. p. 626), viz. Ἃ δε κτησαμενος ου καθεξεις,
μη αιτου παρα θεου· δωρον γαρ θεου παν αναφαιρετον· ωστε ου δωσει ὃ μη
καθεξεις: _i.e._ “Do not ask of God that which, when you have obtained,
you cannot preserve. For every gift of God is incapable of being taken
away; so that he will not give that which you cannot retain.” The
sentence immediately following this is ascribed to Pythagoras, and is to
be found in the Sentences of Stobæus, (edit. 1609, p. 65): viz. Ων δε του
σωματος απαλλαγεισα ου δεηθησῃ, εκεινων καταφρονει· και ων αν απαλλαγεισα
δεῃ, εις ταυτα συ ασκουμενη τον θεον παρεκαλει γενεσθαι συλληπτορα. In
Stobæus, however, there is some difference, so as to render the sentence
more complete. For immediately after καταφρονει, there is παντων; for
δεηθησῃ there is δεησῃ; for δεῃ, δεησῃ; for τον θεον, τους θεους; for συ
ασκουμενη, σοι ασκουμενῳ; and instead of γενεσθαι συλληπτορα, γενεσθαι
σοι συλληπτορα. This, therefore, translated, will be: “Despise all those
things which, when liberated from the body, you will not want; and
exercising yourself in those things, of which, when liberated from the
body, you will be in want, invoke the Gods to become your helpers.” In
pp. 27 and 28, Porphyry says, αιρετωτερου σοι οντος [χρηματα] εικη βαλειν
ἢ λογον· και το ηττασθαι τ’ αληθη λεγοντα, ἢ νικᾳν απατωντα: _i.e._ “It
should be more eligible to you carelessly to throw away riches than
reason; and to be vanquished when speaking the truth, than to vanquish
by deception.” And the latter part of this sentence is to be found in
Sextus: for in p. 649 he says, “Melius est vinci vera dicentem, quam
vincere, mentientem.” Almost immediately after Porphyry adds, Αδυνατον
τον αυτον φιλοθεον τε ειναι και φιληδονον και φιλοσωματον· ο γαρ
φιληδονος και φιλοσωματος παντως και φιλοχρηματος· ο δὲ φιλοχρηματος, εξ
αναγκης αδικος· ο δε αδικος, και εις θεον και εις πατερας ανοσιος, και
εις τους αλλους παρανομος· ωστε κᾳν εκατομβας θυῃ, και μυριοις αναθημασι
νεως αγαλλῃ, ασεβης εστι και αθεος και τῃ προαιρεσει ιεροσυλος· διο και
παντα φιλοσωματον ως αθεον και μιαρον εκτρεπεσθαι χρη. This sentence is
the last of the Sentences of Demophilus, (Opusc. Mythol. p. 625); but
in Porphyry it is in one part defective, and in another is fuller than
in Demophilus. For in the first colon, φιλοχρηματον is wanting: in the
second colon, after ο γαρ φιληδονος και φιλοσωματος, the words ο δε
φιλοσωματος are wanting. And in Demophilus, instead of ο δε αδικος και
εις θεον και εις πατερας ανοσιος, και εις τους αλλους παρανομος, there
is nothing more than ο δε αδικος, εις μεν θεον ανοσιος, εις δε ανθρωπους
παρανομος. In Demophilus also, after ωστε κᾳν εκατομβας θυῃ the words και
μυριοις αναθημασι τους νεως αγαλλῃ, are wanting. And in Porphyry, after
νεως αγαλλῃ, the words πολυ μαλλον ανοσιωτερος εστι, και, are wanting.
This sentence therefore, thus amended, will be in English, “It is
impossible for the same person to be a lover of God, a lover of pleasure,
a lover of body, and a lover of riches. For a lover of pleasure is also
a lover of body; but a lover of body is entirely a lover of riches; and
a lover of riches is necessarily unjust. But he who is unjust 1s impious
towards God and his parents, and lawless towards others. So that, though
he should sacrifice hecatombs, and adorn temples with ten thousand gifts,
he will be much more unholy, impious, atheistical, and sacrilegious in
his deliberate choice. Hence it is necessary to avoid every lover of
body, as one who is without God, and is defiled.”

3. The following passages in the epistle of Porphyry, are from Sextus:
Ο δε αξιος ανθρωπος θεου, θεος αν ειη, (p. 30) _i.e._ “The man who is
worthy of God, will be himself a God.” And Sextus says, “Dignus Deo
homo, deus est et in hominibus.” (p. 654.) Porphyry says, Και τιμησεις
μεν αριστα τον θεον, οταν τῳ θεῳ την σαυτης διανοιαν ομοιωσεις, (p. 30,)
_i.e._ “And you will honour God in the best manner, when you assimilate
your reasoning power to God.” Thus also Sextus, “Optime honorat Deum
ille, qui mentem suam, quantum fieri potest, similem Deo facit,” (p.
655.) Again, Porphyry says, Θεος δε ανθρωπον βεβαιοι πρασσοντα καλα·
κακων δε πραξεων κακος δαιμων ηγεμων, (p. 31): _i.e._ “God corroborates
man when he performs beautiful deeds; but an evil dæmon is the leader
of bad actions.” And Sextus says, “Deus bonos actus hominum confirmat.
Malorum actuum, malus dæmon dux est.” (p. 653). Porphyry adds, Ψυχη δε
σοφου αρμοζεται προς θεον, αει θεον ορᾳ, συνεστιν αει θεῳ, (p. 31,)
_i.e._ “The soul of the wise man is adapted to God; it always beholds
God, and is always present with God.” Thus, too, Sextus, “Sapientis
anima audit Deum, sapientis anima aptatur à Deo, sapientis anima semper
est cum Deo,” (p. 655). There is, however, some difference between the
original and the Latin version, which is most probably owing to the
fraud of Ruffinus. And in the last place, Porphyry says, Αλλα κρηπις
ευσεβειας σοι νομιζεσθω η φιλανθρωπια, (p. 58,) _i.e._ “Philanthropy
should be considered by you as the foundation of piety.” And Sextus says,
“Fundamentum et initium est cultûs Dei, amare Dei homines.” (p. 654).
Ruffinus, however, in this version, fraudulently translates φιλανθρωπια,
_amare Dei homines_, in order that this sentence, as well as the others,
might appear to be written by Sixtus the bishop!

4. The learned reader will find the following passages in the Epistle of
Porphyry, to be sentences of Demophilus, viz. Λογον γαρ θεου τοις υπο
δοξης διεφθαρμενοις λεγειν, κ.τ.λ. usque ad ισον φερει, (p. 29). Ουχ η
γλωττα του σοφου τιμιον παρα θεῳ, κ.τ.λ. usque ad μονος ειδως ευξασθαι,
(p. 32). Ου χολωθεντες ουν οι θεοι βλαπτουσι, κ.τ.λ. usque ad θεῳ δε
ουδεν αβουλητον, (p. 35). Ουτε δακρυα και ικετειαι θεον επιστρεφουσι,
ουτε θυηπολια θεον τιμωσιν, ουτε αναθηματων πληθος κοσμουσι θεον, κ.τ.λ.
usque ad ιεροσυλοις χορηγια, (p. 36). In which passage, however, there
is a remarkable difference, as the learned reader will find, between the
text of Porphyry and that of Demophilus. Εαν ουν αει μνημονευῃς, οτι οπου
αν η ψυχη σου περιπατῃ, και το σωμα ενεργον (lege εργον,) αποτελῃ, κ.τ.λ.
usque ad τον θεον συνοικον, (p. 37). Ο συνετος ανηρ και θεοφιλης, κ.τ.λ.
usque ad σπουδαζεται πονησας, (p. 54). Γυμνος δε αποσταλεις [σοφος]
κ.τ.λ. usque ad επηκοος ο θεος, (p. 54.) Χαλεπωτερον δουλευειν παθεσιν
ἢ τυραννοις. And οσα γαρ παθη ψυχης, τοσουτοι και ωμοι δεσποται, (p.
57). And lastly, πολλῳ γαρ κρειττον τεθναναι ἢ δι’ ακρασιαν την ψυχην
αμαυρωσαι, (p. 58). In all these passages, it will be found, by comparing
them with Porphyry, that they occasionally differ from the text of
Demophilus, yet not so as to alter the sense.

I only add, that many of the Sentences of Demophilus will be found among
those of Sextus. Nor is this at all wonderful, as it was usual with the
Pythagoreans, from their exalted notions of friendship, to consider the
work of one of them as the production of all.




THE SELECT WORKS OF PORPHYRY.




ON ABSTINENCE FROM ANIMAL FOOD.

BOOK THE FIRST.


1. Hearing from some of our acquaintance, O Firmus[13], that you, having
rejected a fleshless diet, have again returned to animal food, at first
I did not credit the report, when I considered your temperance, and the
reverence which you have been taught to pay to those ancient and pious
men from whom we have received the precepts of philosophy. But when
others who came after these confirmed this report, it appeared to me that
it would be too rustic and remote from the rational method of persuasion
to reprehend you, who neither, according to the proverb, flying from
evil have found something better, nor according to Empedocles, having
lamented your former life, have converted yourself to one that is more
excellent. I have therefore thought it worthy of the friendship which
subsists between us, and also adapted to those who have arranged their
life conformably to truth, to disclose your errors through a confutation
derived from an argumentative discussion.

2. For when I considered with myself what could be the cause of this
alteration in your diet, I could by no means suppose that it was for the
sake of health and strength, as the vulgar and idiots would say; since,
on the contrary, you yourself, when you were with us, confessed that a
fleshless diet contributed both to health and to the proper endurance
of philosophic labours; and experience testifies, that in saying this
you spoke the truth. It appears, therefore, that you have returned to
your former illegitimate[14] conduct, either through deception[15],
because you think it makes no difference with respect to the acquisition
of wisdom whether you use this or that diet; or perhaps through some
other cause of which I am ignorant, which excited in you a greater fear
than that which could be produced by the impiety of transgression. For
I should not say that you have despised the philosophic laws which we
derived from our ancestors, and which you have so much admired, through
intemperance, or for the sake of voracious gluttony; or that you are
naturally inferior to some of the vulgar, who, when they have assented
to laws, though contrary to those under which they formerly lived, will
suffer amputation [rather than violate them], and will abstain from
certain animals on which they before fed, more than they would from human
flesh.

3. But when I was also informed by certain persons that you even employed
arguments against those who abstained from animal food, I not only
pitied, but was indignant with you, that, being persuaded by certain
frigid and very corrupt sophisms, you have deceived yourself, and have
endeavoured to subvert a dogma which is both ancient and dear to the
Gods. Hence it appeared to me to be requisite not only to show you what
our own opinion is on this subject, but also to collect and dissolve the
arguments of our opponents, which are much stronger than those adduced
by you in multitude and power, and every other apparatus; and thus to
demonstrate, that truth is not vanquished even by those arguments which
seem to be weighty, and much less by superficial sophisms. For you are
perhaps ignorant, that not a few philosophers are adverse to abstinence
from animal food, but that this is the case with those of the Peripatetic
and Stoic sects, and with most of the Epicureans; the last of whom have
written in opposition to the philosophy of Pythagoras and Empedocles, of
which you once were studiously emulous. To this abstinence, likewise,
many philologists are adverse, among whom Clodius the Neapolitan wrote
a treatise against those who abstain from flesh. Of these men I shall
adduce the disquisitions and common arguments against this dogma, at the
same time omitting those reasons which are peculiarly employed by them
against the demonstrations of Empedocles.


_The Arguments of the Peripatetics and Stoics, from Heraclides
Ponticus[16]._

4. Our opponents therefore say, in the first place, that justice will be
confounded, and things immoveable be moved, if we extend what is just,
not only to the rational, but also to the irrational nature; conceiving
that not only Gods and men pertain to us, but that there is likewise an
alliance between us and brutes, who [in reality] have no conjunction with
us. Nor shall we employ some of them in laborious works, and use others
for food, from a conviction that the association which is between us and
them, in the same manner as that of some foreign polity, pertains to a
tribe different from ours, and is dishonourable. For he who uses these
as if they were men, sparing and not injuring them, thus endeavouring
to adapt to justice that which it cannot bear, both destroys its power,
and corrupts that which is appropriate, by the introduction of what is
foreign. For it necessarily follows, either that we act unjustly by
sparing them, or if we spare and do not employ them, that it will be
impossible for us to live. We shall also, after a manner, live the life
of brutes, if we reject the use which they are capable of affording.

5. For I shall omit to mention the innumerable multitude of Nomades and
Troglodytæ, who know of no other nutriment than that of flesh; but to us
who appear to live mildly and philanthropically, what work would be left
for us on the earth or in the sea, what illustrious art, what ornament
of our food would remain, if we conducted ourselves innoxiously and
reverentially towards brutes, as if they were of a kindred nature with
us? For it would be impossible to assign any work, any medicine, or any
remedy for the want which is destructive of life, or that we can act
justly, unless we preserve the ancient boundary and law.

    To fishes, savage beasts, and birds, devoid
    Of justice, Jove to devour each other
    Granted; but justice to mankind he gave[17].

_i.e._ towards each other.

6. But it is not possible for us to act unjustly towards those to whom
we are not obliged to act justly. Hence, for those who reject this
reasoning, no other road of justice is left, either broad or narrow,
into which they can enter. For, as we have already observed, our nature,
not being sufficient to itself, but indigent of many things, would be
entirely destroyed, and enclosed in a life involved in difficulties,
unorganic, and deprived of necessaries, if excluded from the assistance
derived from animals. It is likewise said, that those first men did
not live prosperously; for this superstition did not stop at animals,
but compelled its votaries even to spare plants. For, indeed, what
greater injury does he do, who cuts the throat of an ox or a sheep,
than he who cuts down a fir tree or an oak? since, from the doctrine of
transmigration, a soul is also implanted in these. These therefore are
the principal arguments of the Stoics and Peripatetics.


_The Arguments of the Epicureans, from Hermachus[18]._

7. The Epicureans, however, narrating, as it were, a long genealogy, say,
that the ancient legislators, looking to the association of life, and
the mutual actions of men, proclaimed that manslaughter was unholy, and
punished it with no casual disgrace. Perhaps, indeed, a certain natural
alliance which exists in men towards each other, through the similitude
of form and soul, is the reason why they do not so readily destroy an
animal of this kind, as some of the other animals which are conceded to
our use. Nevertheless, the greatest cause why manslaughter was considered
as a thing grievous to be borne, and impious, was the opinion that it
did not contribute to the whole nature and condition of human life.
For, from a principle of this kind, those who are capable of perceiving
the advantage arising from this decree, require no other cause of being
restrained from a deed so dire. But those who are not able to have a
sufficient perception of this, being terrified by the magnitude of the
punishment, will abstain from readily destroying each other. For those,
indeed, who survey the utility of the before-mentioned ordinance, will
promptly observe it; but those who are not able to perceive the benefit
with which it is attended, will obey the mandate, in consequence of
fearing the threatenings of the laws; which threatenings certain persons
ordained for the sake of those who could not, by a reasoning process,
infer the beneficial tendency of the decree, at the same time that most
would admit this to be evident.

8. For none of those legal institutes which were established from the
first, whether written or unwritten, and which still remain, and are
adapted to be transmitted, [from one generation to another] became lawful
through violence, but through the consent of those that used them. For
those who introduced things of this kind to the multitude, excelled in
wisdom, and not in strength of body, and the power which subjugates the
rabble. Hence, through this, some were led to a rational consideration of
utility, of which before they had only an irrational sensation, and which
they had frequently forgotten; but others were terrified by the magnitude
of the punishments. For it was not possible to use any other remedy for
the ignorance of what is beneficial, than the dread of the punishment
ordained by law. For this alone even now keeps the vulgar in awe, and
prevents them from doing any thing, either publicly or privately, which
is not beneficial [to the community]. But if all men were similarly
capable of surveying and recollecting what is advantageous, there would
be no need of laws, but men would spontaneously avoid such things as
are prohibited, and perform such as they were ordered to do. For the
survey of what is useful and detrimental, is a sufficient incentive to
the avoidance of the one and the choice of the other. But the infliction
of punishment has a reference to those who do not foresee what is
beneficial. For impendent punishment forcibly compels such as these to
subdue those impulses which lead them to useless actions, and to do that
which is right.

9. Hence also, legislators ordained, that even involuntary manslaughter
should not be entirely void of punishment; in order that they might
not only afford no pretext for the voluntary imitation of those deeds
which were involuntarily performed, but also that they might prevent
many things of this kind from taking place, which happen, in reality,
involuntarily. For neither is this advantageous through the same causes
by which men were forbidden voluntarily to destroy each other. Since,
therefore, of involuntary deeds, some proceed from a cause which is
unstable, and which cannot be guarded against by human nature; but
others are produced by our negligence and inattention to different
circumstances; hence legislators, wishing to restrain that indolence
which is injurious to our neighbours, did not even leave an involuntary
noxious deed without punishment, but, through the fear of penalties,
prevented the commission of numerous offences of this kind. I also am
of opinion, that the slaughters which are allowed by law, and which
receive their accustomed expiations through certain purifications,
were introduced by those ancient legislators, who first very properly
instituted these things for no other reason than that they wished to
prevent men as much as possible from voluntary slaughter. For the vulgar
every where require something which may impede them from promptly
performing what is not advantageous [to the community]. Hence those who
first perceived this to be the case, not only ordained the punishment
of fines, but also excited a certain other irrational dread, through
proclaiming those not to be pure who in any way whatever had slain a man,
unless they used purifications after the commission of the deed. For that
part of the soul which is void of intellect, being variously disciplined,
acquired a becoming mildness, certain taming arts having been from the
first invented for the purpose of subduing the irrational impulses
of desire, by those who governed the people. And one of the precepts
promulgated on this occasion was, that men should not destroy each other
without discrimination.

10. Those, however, who first defined what we ought to do, and what we
ought not, very properly did not forbid us to kill other animals. For the
advantage arising from these is effected by a contrary practice, since
it is not possible that men could be preserved, unless they endeavoured
to defend those who are nurtured with themselves from the attacks of
other animals. At that time, therefore, some of those, of the most
elegant manners, recollecting that they abstained from slaughter because
it was useful to the public safety, they also reminded the rest of the
people in their mutual associations of what was the consequence of this
abstinence; in order that, by refraining from the slaughter of their
kindred, they might preserve that communion which greatly contributes to
the peculiar safety of each individual. But it was not only found to be
useful for men not to separate from each other, and not to do any thing
injurious to those who were collected together in the same place, for
the purpose of repelling the attacks of animals of another species; but
also for defence against men whose design was to act nefariously. To a
certain extent, therefore, they abstained from the slaughter of men,
for these reasons, viz. in order that there might be a communion among
them in things that are necessary, and that a certain utility might be
afforded in each of the above-mentioned incommodities. In the course of
time, however, when the offspring of mankind, through their intercourse
with each other, became more widely extended, and animals of a different
species were expelled, certain persons directed their attention in a
rational way to what was useful to men in their mutual nutriment, and did
not alone recal this to their memory in an irrational manner.

11. Hence they endeavoured still more firmly to restrain those who
readily destroyed each other, and who, through an oblivion of past
transactions, prepared a more imbecile defence. But in attempting to
effect this, they introduced those legal institutes which still remain
in cities and nations; the multitude spontaneously assenting to them,
in consequence of now perceiving, in a greater degree, the advantage
arising from an association with each other. For the destruction of
every thing noxious, and the preservation of that which is subservient
to its extermination, similarly contribute to a fearless life. And
hence it is reasonable to suppose, that one of the above-mentioned
particulars was forbidden, but that the other was not prohibited. Nor
must it be said, that the law allows us to destroy some animals which
are not corruptive of human nature, and which are not in any other way
injurious to our life. For, as I may say, no animal among those which the
law permits us to kill is of this kind; since, if we suffered them to
increase excessively, they would become injurious to us. But through the
number of them which is now preserved, certain advantages are imparted
to human life. For sheep and oxen, and every such like animal, when the
number of them is moderate, are beneficial to our necessary wants; but
if they become redundant in the extreme, and far exceed the number which
is sufficient, they then become detrimental to our life; the latter by
employing their strength, in consequence of participating of this through
an innate power of nature, and the former, by consuming the nutriment
which springs up from the earth for our benefit alone. Hence, through
this cause, the slaughter of animals of this kind is not prohibited, in
order that as many of them as are sufficient for our use, and which we
may be able easily to subdue, may be left. For it is not with horses,
oxen, and sheep, and with all tame animals, as it is with lions and
wolves, and, in short, with all such as are called savage animals, that,
whether the number of them is small or great, no multitude of them can be
assumed, which, if left, would alleviate the necessity of our life. And
on this account, indeed, we utterly destroy some of them; but of others,
we take away as many as are found to be more than commensurate to our use.

12. On this account, from the above-mentioned causes, it is similarly
requisite to think, that what pertains to the eating of animals, was
ordained by those who from the first established the laws; and that the
advantageous and the disadvantageous were the causes why some animals
were permitted to be eaten and others not. So that those who assert,
that every thing beautiful and just subsists conformably to the peculiar
opinions of men respecting those who established the laws, are full of a
certain most profound stupidity. For it is not possible that this thing
can take place in any other way than that in which the other utilities
of life subsist, such as those that are salubrious, and an innumerable
multitude of others. Erroneous opinions, however, are entertained in many
particulars, both of a public and private nature. For certain persons do
not perceive those legal institutes, which are similarly adapted to all
men; but some, conceiving them to rank among things of an indifferent
nature, omit them; while others, who are of a contrary opinion, think
that such things as are not universally profitable, are every where
advantageous. Hence, through this cause, they adhere to things which
are unappropriate; though in certain particulars they discover what is
advantageous to themselves, and what contributes to general utility. And
among these are to be enumerated the eating of animals, and the legally
ordained destructions which are instituted by most nations on account of
the peculiarity of the region. It is not necessary, however, that these
institutes should be preserved by us, because we do not dwell in the same
place as those did by whom they were made. If, therefore, it was possible
to make a certain compact with other animals in the same manner as with
men, that we should not kill them, nor they us, and that they should not
be indiscriminately destroyed by us, it would be well to extend justice
as far as to this; for this extent of it would be attended with security.
But since it is among things impossible, that animals which are not
recipients of reason should participate with us of law, on this account,
utility cannot be in a greater degree procured by security from other
animals, than from inanimate natures. But we can alone obtain security
from the liberty which we now possess of putting them to death. And such
are the arguments of the Epicureans.


_The Arguments of Claudius the Neapolitan, who published a Treatise
against Abstinence from Animal Food._

13. It now remains, that we should adduce what plebeians and the vulgar
are accustomed to say on this subject. For they say, that the ancients
abstained from animals, not through piety, but because they did not yet
know the use of fire; but that as soon as they became acquainted with its
utility, they then conceived it to be most honourable and sacred. They
likewise called it Vesta, and from this the appellation of _convestals_
or companions was derived; and afterwards they began to use animals. For
it is natural to man to eat flesh, but contrary to his nature to eat it
raw. Fire, therefore, being discovered, they embraced what is natural,
and admitted the eating of boiled and roasted flesh. Hence lynxes are
[said by Homer[19] to be] _crudivorous_, or _eaters of raw flesh_; and of
Priam, also, he says, as a disgraceful circumstance,

    Raw flesh by you, O Priam, is devoured[20].

And,

    Raw flesh, dilacerating, he devoured[21].

And this is said, as if the eating of raw flesh pertained to the impious.
Telemachus, also, when Minerva was his guest, placed before her not raw,
but roasted flesh. At first, therefore, men did not eat animals, for man
is not [naturally] a devourer of raw flesh. But when the use of fire was
discovered, fire was employed not only for the cooking of flesh, but
also for most other eatables. For that man is not [naturally] adapted
to eat raw flesh, is evident from certain nations that feed on fishes.
For these they roast, some upon stones that are very much heated by the
sun; but others roast them in the sand. That man, however, is adapted to
feed on flesh, is evident from this, that no nation abstains from animal
food. Nor is this adopted by the Greeks through depravity, since the same
custom is admitted by the barbarians.

14. But he who forbids men to feed on animals, and thinks it is unjust,
will also say that it is not just to kill them, and deprive them of life.
Nevertheless, an innate and just war is implanted in us against brutes.
For some of them voluntarily attack men, as, for instance, wolves and
lions; others not voluntarily, as serpents, since they bite not, except
they are trampled on. And some, indeed, attack men; but others destroy
the fruits of the earth. From all these causes, therefore, we do not
spare the life of brutes; but we destroy those who commence hostilities
against us, as also those who do not, lest we should suffer any evil
from them. For there is no one who, if he sees a serpent, will not, if
he is able, destroy it, in order that neither it, nor any other serpent,
may bite a man. And this arises, not only from our hatred of those that
are the destroyers of our race, but likewise from that kindness which
subsists between one man and another. But though the war against brutes
is just, yet we abstain from many which associate with men. Hence, the
Greeks do not feed either on dogs, or horses, or asses, because of these,
those that are tame are of the same species as the wild. Nevertheless,
they eat swine and birds. For a hog is not useful for any thing but food.
The Phœnicians, however, and Jews, abstain from it, because, in short,
it is not produced in those places. For it is said, that this animal is
not seen in Ethiopia even at present. As, therefore, no Greek sacrifices
a camel or an elephant to the Gods, because Greece does not produce
these animals, so neither is a hog sacrificed to the Gods in Cyprus or
Phœnicia, because it is not indigenous in those places. And, for the
same reason, neither do the Egyptians sacrifice this animal to the Gods.
In short, that some nations abstain from a hog, is similar to our being
unwilling to eat the flesh of camels.

15. But why should any one abstain from animals? Is it because feeding
on them makes the soul or the body worse? It is, however, evident, that
neither of these is deteriorated by it. For those animals that feed on
flesh are more sagacious than others, as they are venatic, and possess
an art by which they supply themselves with food, and acquire power and
strength; as is evident in lions and wolves. So that the eating of flesh
neither injures the soul nor the body. This likewise is manifest, both
from the athlete, whose bodies become stronger by feeding on flesh, and
from physicians, who restore bodies to health by the use of animal food.
For this is no small indication that Pythagoras did not think sanely,
that none of the wise men embraced his opinion; since neither any one of
the seven wise men, nor any of the physiologists who lived after them,
nor even the most wise Socrates, or his followers, adopted it.

16. Let it, however, be admitted that all men are persuaded of the truth
of this dogma, respecting abstinence from animals. But what will be
the boundary of the propagation of animals? For no one is ignorant how
numerous the progeny is of the swine and the hare. And to these add all
other animals. Whence, therefore, will they be supplied with pasture? And
what will husbandmen do? For they will not destroy those who destroy the
fruits of the earth. And the earth will not be able to bear the multitude
of animals. Corruption also will be produced from the putridity of those
that will die. And thus, from pestilence taking place, no refuge will be
left. For the sea, and rivers, and marshes, will be filled with fishes,
and the air with birds, but the earth will be full of reptiles of every
kind.

17. How many likewise will be prevented from having their diseases
cured, if animals are abstained from? For we see that those who are
blind recover their sight by eating a viper. A servant of Craterus, the
physician, happening to be seized with a new kind of disease, in which
the flesh fell away from the bones, derived no benefit from medicines;
but by eating a viper prepared after the manner of a fish, the flesh
became conglutinated to the bones, and he was restored to health. Many
other animals also, and their several parts, cure diseases when they
are properly used for that purpose; of all which remedies he will be
frustrated who rejects animal food.

18. But if, as they say, plants also have a soul, what will become of our
life if we neither destroy animals nor plants? If, however, he is not
impious who cuts off plants, neither will he who kills animals.

19. But some one may, perhaps, say it is not proper to destroy that which
belongs to the same tribe with ourselves; if the souls of animals are
of the same essence with ourselves. If, however, it should be granted
that souls are inserted in bodies voluntarily, it must be said that it
is through a love of juvenility: for in the season of youth there is an
enjoyment of all things. Why, therefore, do they not again enter into
the nature of man? But if they enter voluntarily, and for the sake of
juvenility, and pass through every species of animals, they will be much
gratified by being destroyed. For thus their return to the human form
will be more rapid. The bodies also which are eaten will not produce any
pain in the souls of those bodies, in consequence of the souls being
liberated from them; and they will love to be implanted in the nature
of man. Hence, as much as they are pained on leaving the human form,
so much will they rejoice when they leave other bodies. For thus they
will more swiftly become man again, who predominates over all irrational
animals, in the same manner as God does over men. There is, therefore, a
sufficient cause for destroying other animals, viz. their acting unjustly
in destroying men. But if the souls of men are immortal, but those of
irrational animals mortal, men will not act unjustly by destroying
irrational animals. And if the souls of brutes are immortal, we shall
benefit them by liberating them from their bodies. For, by killing them,
we shall cause them to return to the human nature.

20. If, however, we [only] defend ourselves [in putting animals to
death], we do not act unjustly, but we take vengeance on those that
injure us. Hence, if the souls of brutes are indeed immortal, we benefit
them by destroying them. But if their souls are mortal, we do nothing
impious in putting them to death. And if we defend ourselves against
them, how is it possible that in so doing we should not act justly. For
we destroy, indeed, a serpent and a scorpion, though they do not attack
us, in order that some other person may not be injured by them; and in so
doing we defend the human race in general. But shall we not act justly in
putting those animals to death, which either attack men, or those that
associate with men, or injure the fruits of the earth?

21. If, however, some one should, nevertheless, think it is unjust to
destroy brutes, such a one should neither use milk, nor wool, nor sheep,
nor honey. For, as you injure a man by taking from him his garments,
thus, also, you injure a sheep by shearing it. For the wool which you
take from it is its vestment. Milk, likewise, was not produced for you,
but for the young of the animal that has it. The bee also collects honey
as food for itself; which you, by taking away, administer to your own
pleasure. I pass over in silence the opinion of the Egyptians, that we
act unjustly by meddling with plants. But if these things were produced
for our sake, then the bee, being ministrant to us, elaborates honey, and
the wool grows on the back of sheep, that it may be an ornament to us,
and afford us a bland heat.

22. Co-operating also with the Gods themselves in what contributes to
piety, we sacrifice animals: for, of the Gods, Apollo, indeed, is called
λυκοκτονος, _the slayer of wolves_; and Diana, θηροκτονος, _the destroyer
of wild beasts_. Demi-gods likewise, and all the heroes who excel us
both in origin and virtue, have so much approved of the slaughter of
animals, that they have sacrificed to the Gods _Dodeceïdes_[22] and
_Hecatombs_. But Hercules, among other things, is celebrated for being an
_ox-devourer_.

23. It is, however, stupid to say that Pythagoras exhorted men to abstain
from animals, in order that he might, in the greatest possible degree,
prevent them from eating each other. For, if all men at the time of
Pythagoras were anthropophagites, he must be delirious who drew men away
from other animals, in order that they might abstain from devouring each
other. For, on this account, he ought rather to have exhorted them to
become anthropophagites, by showing them that it was an equal crime to
devour each other, and to eat the flesh of oxen and swine. But if men
at that time did not eat each other, what occasion was there for this
dogma? And if he established this law for himself and his associates, the
supposition that he did so is disgraceful. For it demonstrates that those
who lived with Pythagoras were anthropophagites.

24. For we say that the very contrary of what he conjectured would
happen. For, if we abstained from animals, we should not only be deprived
of pleasure and riches of this kind, but we should also lose our fields,
which would be destroyed by wild beasts; since the whole earth would be
occupied by serpents and birds, so that it would be difficult to plough
the land; the scattered seeds would immediately be gathered by the birds;
and all such fruits as had arrived at perfection, would be consumed by
quadrupeds. But men being oppressed by such a want of food, would be
compelled, by bitter necessity, to attack each other.

25. Moreover, the Gods themselves, for the sake of a remedy, have
delivered mandates to many persons about sacrificing animals. For
history is full of instances of the Gods having ordered certain persons
to sacrifice animals, and, when sacrificed, to eat them. For, in the
return of the Heraclidæ, those who engaged in war against Lacedæmon, in
conjunction with Eurysthenes and Proscles, through a want of necessaries,
were compelled to eat serpents, which the land at that time afforded for
the nutriment of the army. In Libya, also, a cloud of locusts fell for
the relief of another army that was oppressed by hunger. The same thing
likewise happened at Gades. Bogus was a king of the Mauritanians, who
was slain by Agrippa in Mothone. He in that place attacked the temple of
Hercules, which was most rich. But it was the custom of the priests daily
to sprinkle the altar with blood. That this, however, was not effected by
the decision of men, but by that of divinity, the occasion at that time
demonstrated. For, the siege being continued for a long time, victims
were wanting. But the priest being dubious how he should act, had the
following vision in a dream. He seemed to himself to be standing in the
middle of the pillars of the temple of Hercules, and afterwards to see
a bird sitting opposite to the altar, and endeavouring to fly to it,
but which at length flew into his hands. He also saw that the altar was
sprinkled with its blood. Seeing this, he rose as soon as it was day, and
went to the altar, and standing on the turret, as he thought he did in
his dream, he looked round, and saw the very bird which he had seen in
his sleep. Hoping, therefore, that his dream would be fulfilled, he stood
still, saw the bird fly to the altar and sit upon it, and deliver itself
into the hands of the high priest. Thus the bird was sacrificed, and the
altar sprinkled with blood. That, however, which happened at Cyzicus, is
still more celebrated than this event. For Mithridates having besieged
this city, the festival of Proserpine was then celebrated, in which it
was requisite to sacrifice an ox. But the sacred herds, from which it was
necessary the victim should be taken, fed opposite to the city, on the
continent[23]: and one of them was already marked for this purpose. When,
therefore, the hour demanded the sacrifice, the ox lowed, and swam over
the sea, and the guards of the city opened the gates to it. Then the ox
directly ran into the city, and stood at the altar, and was sacrificed to
the Goddess. Not unreasonably, therefore, was it thought to be most pious
to sacrifice many animals, since it appeared that the sacrifice of them
was pleasing to the Gods.

26. But what would be the condition of a city, if all the citizens were
of this opinion, [viz. that they should abstain from destroying animals?]
For how would they repel their enemies, when they were attacked by them,
if they were careful in the extreme not to kill any one of them? In this
case, indeed, they must be immediately destroyed. And it would be too
prolix to narrate other difficulties and inconveniences, which would
necessarily take place. That it is not, however, impious to slay and feed
on animals, is evident from this, that Pythagoras himself, though those
prior to him permitted the athletæ to drink milk, and to eat cheese,
irrigated with water; but others, posterior to him, rejecting this diet,
fed them with dry figs; yet he, abrogating the ancient custom, allowed
them to feed on flesh, and found that such a diet greatly increased their
strength. Some also relate, that the Pythagoreans themselves did not
spare animals when they sacrificed to the gods. Such, therefore, are the
arguments of Clodius, Heraclides Ponticus, Hermachus the Epicurean, and
the Stoics and Peripatetics, [against abstinence from animal food]: among
which also are comprehended the arguments which were sent to us by you, O
Castricius. As, however, I intend to oppose these opinions, and those of
the multitude, I may reasonably premise what follows.

27. In the first place, therefore, it must be known that my discourse
does not bring with it an exhortation to every description of men. For
it is not directed to those who are occupied in sordid mechanical arts,
nor to those who are engaged in athletic exercises; neither to soldiers,
nor sailors, nor rhetoricians, nor to those who lead an active life. But
I write to the man who considers what he is, whence he came, and whither
he ought to tend, and who, in what pertains to nutriment, and other
necessary concerns, is different from those who propose to themselves
other kinds of life; for to none but such as these do I direct my
discourse. For, neither in this common life can there be one and the same
exhortation to the sleeper, who endeavours to obtain sleep through the
whole of life, and who, for this purpose, procures from all places things
of a soporiferous nature, as there is to him who is anxious to repel
sleep, and to dispose every thing about him to a vigilant condition. But
to the former it is necessary to recommend intoxication, surfeiting, and
satiety, and to exhort him to choose a dark house, and

    A bed luxuriant, broad, and soft,—

as the poets say; and that he should procure for himself all such things
as are of a soporiferous nature, and which are effective of sluggishness
and oblivion, whether they are odours, or ointments, or are liquid or
solid medicines. And to the latter it is requisite to advise the use of
a drink sober and without wine, food of an attenuated nature, and almost
approaching to fasting; a house lucid, and participating of a subtle air
and wind, and to urge him to be strenuously excited by solicitude and
thought, and to prepare for himself a small and hard bed. But, whether we
are naturally adapted to this, I mean to a vigilant life, so as to grant
as little as possible to sleep, since we do not dwell among those who are
perpetually vigilant, or whether we are designed to be in a soporiferous
state of existence, is the business of another discussion, and is a
subject which requires very extended demonstrations.

28. To the man, however, who once suspects the enchantments attending
our journey through the present life, and belonging to the place in
which we dwell; who also perceives himself to be naturally vigilant, and
considers the somniferous nature of the region which he inhabits;—to
this man addressing ourselves, we prescribe food consentaneous to his
suspicion and knowledge of this terrene abode, and exhort him to suffer
the somnolent to be stretched on their beds, dissolved in sleep. For it
is requisite to be cautious, lest as those who look on the blear-eyed
contract an ophthalmy, and as we gape when present with those who are
gaping, so we should be filled with drowsiness and sleep, when the region
which we inhabit is cold, and adapted to fill the eyes with rheum, as
being of a marshy nature, and drawing down all those that dwell in it to
a somniferous and oblivious condition. If, therefore, legislators had
ordained laws for cities, with a view to a contemplative and intellectual
life, it would certainly be requisite to be obedient to those laws,
and to comply with what they instituted concerning food. But if they
established their laws, looking to a life according to nature, and which
is said to rank as a medium, [between the irrational and the intellectual
life,] and to what the vulgar admit, who conceive externals, and things
which pertain to the body to be good or evil, why should any one,
adducing their laws, endeavour to subvert a life, which is more excellent
than every law which is written and ordained for the multitude, and which
is especially conformable to an unwritten and divine law? For such is the
truth of the case.

29. The contemplation which procures for us felicity, does not consist,
as same one may think it does, in a multitude of discussions and
disciplines; nor does it receive any increase by a quantity of words.
For if this were the case, nothing would prevent those from being happy
by whom all disciplines are collected together [and comprehended].
Now, however, every discipline by no means gives completion to this
contemplation, nor even the disciplines which pertain to truly existing
beings, unless there is a conformity to them of our nature[24] and life.
For since there are, as it is said, in every purpose three[25] ends, the
end with us is to obtain the contemplation of real being, the attainment
of it procuring, as much as it is possible for us, a conjunction of
the contemplator with the object of contemplation. For the reascent of
the soul is not to any thing else than true being itself, nor is its
conjunction with any other thing. But intellect is truly-existing being;
so that the end is to live according to intellect. Hence such discussions
and exoteric disciplines as impede our purification, do not give
completion to our felicity. If, therefore, felicity consisted in literary
attainments, this end might be obtained by those who pay no attention to
their food and their actions. But since for this purpose it is requisite
to exchange the life which the multitude lead for another, and to become
purified both in words and deeds, let us consider what reasonings and
what works will enable us to obtain this end.

30. Shall we say, therefore, that they will be such as separate us from
sensibles, and the passions which pertain to them, and which elevate us
as much as possible to an intellectual, unimaginative, and impassive
life; but that the contraries to these are foreign, and deserve to be
rejected? And this by so much the more, as they separate us from a life
according to intellect. But, I think, it must be admitted, that we should
follow the object to which intellect attracts us. For we resemble those
who enter into, or depart from a foreign region, not only because we are
banished from our intimate associates, but in consequence of dwelling in
a foreign land, we are filled with barbaric passions, and manners, and
legal institutes, and to all these have a great propensity. Hence, he who
wishes to return to his proper kindred and associates, should not only
with alacrity begin the journey, but, in order that he may be properly
received, should meditate how he may divest himself of every thing of a
foreign nature which he has assumed, and should recall to his memory such
things as he has forgotten, and without which he cannot be admitted by
his kindred and friends. After the same manner, also, it is necessary,
if we intend to return to things which are truly our own, that we should
divest ourselves of every thing of a mortal nature which we have assumed,
together with an adhering affection towards it, and which is the cause
of our descent [into this terrestrial region;] and that we should excite
our recollection of that blessed and eternal essence, and should hasten
our return to the nature which is without colour and without quality,
earnestly endeavouring to accomplish two things; one, that we may cast
aside every thing material and mortal; but the other, that we may
properly return, and be again conversant with our true kindred, ascending
to them in a way contrary to that in which we descended hither. For we
were intellectual natures, and we still are essences purified from all
sense and irrationality; but we are complicated with sensibles, through
our incapability of eternally associating with the intelligible, and
through the power of being conversant with terrestrial concerns. For
all the powers which energize in conjunction with sense and body, are
injured, in consequence of the soul not abiding in the intelligible;
(just as the earth, when in a bad condition, though it frequently
receives the seed of wheat, yet produces nothing but tares), and this is
through a certain depravity of the soul, which does not indeed destroy
its essence from the generation of irrationality, but through this is
conjoined with a mortal nature, and is drawn down from its own proper to
a foreign condition of being.

31. So that, if we are desirous of returning to those natures with which
we formerly associated, we must endeavour to the utmost of our power to
withdraw ourselves from sense and imagination, and the irrationality with
which they are attended, and also from the passions which subsist about
them, as far as the necessity of our condition in this life will permit.
But such things as pertain to intellect should be distinctly arranged,
procuring for it peace and quiet from the war with the irrational part;
that we may not only be auditors of intellect and intelligibles, but
may as much as possible enjoy the contemplation of them, and, being
established in an incorporeal nature, may truly live through intellect;
and not falsely in conjunction with things allied to bodies. We must
therefore divest ourselves of our manifold garments, both of this visible
and fleshly vestment, and of those with which we are internally clothed,
and which are proximate to our cutaneous habiliments; and we must enter
the stadium naked and unclothed, striving for [the most glorious of all
prizes] the Olympia of the soul. The first thing, however, and without
which we cannot contend, is to divest ourselves of our garments. But
since of these some are external and others internal, thus also with
respect to the denudation, one kind is through things which are apparent,
but another through such as are more unapparent. Thus, for instance,
not to eat, or not to receive what is offered to us, belongs to things
which are immediately obvious; but not to desire is a thing more obscure;
so that, together with deeds, we must also withdraw ourselves from an
adhering affection and passion towards them. For what benefit shall we
derive by abstaining from deeds, when at the same time we tenaciously
adhere to the causes from which the deeds proceed?

32. But this departure [from sense, imagination, and irrationality,]
may be effected by violence, and also by persuasion and by reason,
through the wasting away, and, as it may be said, oblivion and death of
the passions; which, indeed, is the best kind of departure, since it is
accomplished without oppressing that from which we are divulsed. For,
in sensibles, a divulsion by force is not effected without either a
laceration of a part, or a vestige of avulsion. But this separation is
introduced by a continual negligence of the passions. And this negligence
is produced by an abstinence from those sensible perceptions which excite
the passions, and by a persevering attention to intelligibles. And among
these passions or perturbations, those which arise from food are to be
enumerated.

33. We should therefore abstain, no less than from other things, from
certain food, viz. such as is naturally adapted to excite the passive
part of our soul, concerning which it will be requisite to consider
as follows: There are two fountains whose streams irrigate the bond
by which the soul is bound to the body; and from which the soul being
filled as with deadly potions, becomes oblivious of the proper objects
of her contemplation. These fountains are pleasure and pain; of which
sense indeed is preparative, and the perception which is according to
sense, together with the imaginations, opinions, and recollections
which accompany the senses. But from these, the passions being excited,
and the whole of the irrational nature becoming fattened, the soul is
drawn downward, and abandons its proper love of true being. As much as
possible, therefore, we must separate ourselves from these. But the
separation must be effected by an avoidance of the passions which subsist
through the senses and the irrational part. But the senses are employed
either on objects of the sight, or of the hearing, or of the taste, or
the smell, or the touch; for sense is as it were the metropolis of that
foreign colony of passions which we contain. Let us, therefore, consider
how much fuel of the passions enters into us through each of the senses.
For this is effected partly by the view of the contests of horses and
the athlete, or those whose bodies are contorted in dancing; and partly
from the survey of beautiful women. For these, ensnaring the irrational
nature, attack and subjugate it by all-various deceptions.

34. For the soul, being agitated with Bacchic fury through all these by
the irrational part, is made to leap, to exclaim and vociferate, the
external tumult being inflamed by the internal, and which was first
enkindled by sense. But the excitations through the ears, and which
are of a passive nature, are produced by certain noises and sounds, by
indecent language and defamation, so that many through these being exiled
from reason, are furiously agitated, and some, becoming effeminate,
exhibit all-various convolutions of the body. And who is ignorant how
much the use of fumigations, and the exhalations of sweet odours, with
which lovers supply the objects of their love, fatten the irrational part
of the soul? But what occasion is there to speak of the passions produced
through the taste? For here, especially, there is a complication of a
twofold bond; one which is fattened by the passions excited by the taste;
and the other, which we render heavy and powerful, by the introduction
of foreign bodies [_i.e._ of bodies different from our own]. For, as
a certain physician said, those are not the only poisons which are
prepared by the medical art; but those likewise which we daily assume
for food, both in what we eat, and what we drink, and a thing of a much
more deadly nature is imparted to the soul through these, than from the
poisons which are compounded for the purpose of destroying the body. And
as to the touch, it does all but transmute the soul into the body, and
produces in it certain inarticulate sounds, such as frequently take place
in inanimate bodies. And from all these, recollections, imaginations,
and opinions being collected together, excite a swarm of passions, viz.
of fear, desire, anger, love, voluptuousness[26], pain, emulation,
solicitude, and disease, and cause the soul to be full of similar
perturbations.

35. Hence, to be purified from all these is most difficult, and requires
a great contest, and we must bestow much labour both by night and by
day to be liberated from an attention to them, and this, because we are
necessarily complicated with sense. Whence, also, as much as possible,
we should withdraw ourselves from those places in which we may, though
unwillingly, meet with this hostile crowd. From experience, also, we
should avoid a contest with it, and even a victory over it, and the want
of exercise from inexperience.

36. For we learn, that this conduct was adopted by some of the celebrated
ancient Pythagoreans and wise men; some of whom dwelt in the most
solitary places; but others in temples and sacred groves, from which,
though they were in cities, all tumult and the multitude were expelled.
But Plato chose to reside in the Academy, a place not only solitary and
remote from the city, but which was also said to be insalubrious. Others
have not spared even their eyes, through a desire of not being divulsed
from the inward contemplation [of reality]. If some one, however, at
the same time that he is conversant with men, and while he is filling
his senses with the passions pertaining to them, should fancy that he
can remain impassive, he is ignorant that he both deceives himself and
those who are persuaded by him, nor does he see that we are enslaved to
many passions, through not alienating ourselves from the multitude. For
he did not speak vainly, and in such a way as to falsify the nature of
[the Coryphæan] philosophers, who said of them, “These, therefore, from
their youth, neither know the way to the forum, nor where the court of
justice or senate-house is situated, or any common place of assembly
belonging to the city.” They likewise neither hear nor see laws, or
decrees, whether orally promulgated or written. And as to the ardent
endeavours of their companions to obtain magistracies, the associations
of these, their banquets and wanton feastings, accompanied by pipers,
these they do not even dream of accomplishing. But whether any thing in
the city has happened well or ill, or what evil has befallen any one from
his progenitors, whether male or female, these are more concealed from
such a one, than, as it is said, how many measures called choes the sea
contains. And besides this, he is even ignorant that he is ignorant[27]
of all these particulars. For he does not abstain from them for the sake
of renown, but, in reality, his body only dwells, and is conversant in
the city; but his reasoning power considering all these as trifling and
of no value, “he is borne away,” according to Pindar, “on all sides, and
does not apply himself to any thing which is near.”

37. In what is here said, Plato asserts, that the Coryphæan philosopher,
by not at all mingling himself with the above-mentioned particulars,
remains impassive to them. Hence, he neither knows the way to the court
of justice nor the senate-house, nor any thing else which has been before
enumerated. He does not say, indeed, that he knows and is conversant with
these particulars, and that, being conversant, and filling his senses
with them, yet does not know any thing about them; but, on the contrary,
he says, that abstaining from them, he is ignorant that he is ignorant of
them. He also adds, that this philosopher does not even dream of betaking
himself to banquets. Much less, therefore, would he be indignant, if
deprived of broth, or pieces of flesh; nor, in short, will he admit
things of this kind. And will he not rather consider the abstinence from
all these as trifling, and a thing of no consequence, but the assumption
of them to be a thing of great importance and noxious? For since there
are two paradigms in the order of things, one of a divine nature, which
is most happy, the other of that which is destitute of divinity, and
which is most miserable[28]; the Coryphæan philosopher will assimilate
himself to the one, but will render himself dissimilar to the other, and
will lead a life conformable to the paradigm to which he is assimilated,
viz. a life satisfied with slender food, and sufficient to itself, and in
the smallest degree replete with mortal natures.

38. Hence, as long as any one is discordant about food, and contends
that this or that thing should be eaten, but does not conceive that, if
it were possible, we should abstain from all food, assenting by this
contention to his passions, such a one forms a vain opinion, as if the
subjects of his dissension were things of no consequence. He, therefore,
who philosophizes, will not separate himself [from his terrestrial bonds]
by violence; for he who is compelled to do this, nevertheless remains
there from whence he was forced to depart. Nor must it be thought, that
he who strengthens these bonds, effects a thing of small importance.
So that only granting to nature what is necessary, and this of a light
quality, and through more slender food, he will reject whatever exceeds
this, as only contributing to pleasure. For he will be persuaded of the
truth of what Plato says, that sense is a nail by which the soul is
fastened to bodies[29], through the agglutination of the passions, and
the enjoyment of corporeal delight. For if sensible perceptions were no
impediment to the pure energy of the soul, why would it be a thing of
a dire nature to be in body, while at the same time the soul remained
impassive to the motions of the body?

39. How is it, also, that you have decided and said, that you are not
passive to things which you suffer, and that you are not present with
things by which you are passively affected? For intellect, indeed, is
present with itself, though we are not present with it. But he who
departs from intellect, is in that place to which he departs; and when,
by discursive energies, he applies himself upwards and downwards by his
apprehension of things, he is there where his apprehension is. But it is
one thing not to attend to sensibles, in consequence of being present
with other things, and another for a man to think, that though he attends
to sensibles yet he is not present with them. Nor can any one show that
Plato admits this, without at the same time demonstrating himself to be
deceived. He, therefore, who submits to the assumption of [every kind
of] food, and voluntarily betakes himself to [alluring] spectacles,
to conversation with the multitude, and laughter; such a one, by thus
acting, is there where the passion is which he sustains. But he who
abstains from these in consequence of being present with other things,
he it is who, through his unskilfulness, not only excites laughter in
Thracian maid-servants, but in the rest of the vulgar, and when he sits
at a banquet, falls into the greatest perplexity, not from any defect
of sensation, or from a superior accuracy of sensible perception, and
energizing with the irrational part of the soul alone; for Plato does
not venture to assert this; but because, in slanderous conversation,
he has nothing reproachful to say of any one, as not knowing any evil
of any one, because he has not made individuals the subject of his
meditation. Being in such perplexity, therefore, he appears, says Plato,
to be ridiculous; and in the praises and boastings of others, as he is
manifestly seen to laugh, not dissemblingly, but, in reality, he appears
to be delirious.

40. So that, through ignorance of, and abstaining from sensible
concerns, he is unacquainted with them. But it is by no means to be
admitted, that though he should be familiar with sensibles, and should
energize through the irrational part, yet it is possible for him [at the
same time] genuinely to survey the objects of intellect. For neither do
they who assert that we have two souls, admit that we can attend at one
and the same time to two different things. For thus they would make a
conjunction of two animals, which being employed in different energies,
the one would not be able to perceive the operations of the other.

41. But why would it be requisite that the passions should waste away,
that we should die with respect to them, and that this should be daily
the subject of our meditation, if it was possible for us, as some assert,
to energize according to intellect, though we are at the same time
intimately connected with mortal concerns, and this without the intuition
of intellect? For intellect sees, and intellect hears [as Epicharmus
says]. But if, while eating luxuriously, and drinking the sweetest wine,
it were possible to be present with immaterial natures, why may not this
be frequently effected while you are present with, and are performing
things which it is not becoming even to mention? For these passions
every where proceed from the boy[30] which is in us. And you certainly
will admit that the baser these passions are, the more we are drawn down
towards them. For what will be the distinction which ought here to be
made, if you admit that to some things it is not possible to be passive,
without being present with them, but that you may accomplish other
things, at the same time that you are surveying intelligibles? For it
is not because some things are apprehended to be base by the multitude,
but others not. For all the above mentioned passions are base. So that
to the attainment of a life according to intellect, it is requisite to
abstain from all these, in the same manner as from venereal concerns. To
nature therefore, but little food must be granted, through the necessity
of generation [or of our connexion with a flowing condition of being.]
For, where sense and sensible apprehension are, there a departure and
separation from the intelligible take place; and by how much stronger
the excitation is of the irrational part, by so much the greater is the
departure from intellection. For it is not possible for us to be borne
along to this place and to that, while we are _here_, and yet be _there_,
[i.e. be present with an intelligible essence.] For our attentions to
things are not effected with a part, but with the whole of ourselves.

42. But to fancy that he who is passively affected according to sense,
may, nevertheless, energize about intelligibles, has precipitated many
of the Barbarians to destruction; who arrogantly assert, that though
they indulge in every kind of pleasure, yet they are able to convert
themselves to things of a different nature from sensibles, at the same
time that they are energizing with the irrational part. For I have heard
some persons patronizing their infelicity after the following manner. “We
are not,” say they, “defiled by food, as neither is the sea by the filth
of rivers. For we have dominion over all eatables, in the same manner as
the sea over all humidity. But if the sea should shut up its mouth, so
as not to receive the streams that now flow into it, it would be indeed,
with respect to itself, great; but, with respect to the world, small, as
not being able to receive dirt and corruption. If, however, it was afraid
of being defiled, it would not receive these streams; but knowing its own
magnitude, it receives all things, and is not averse to any thing which
proceeds into it. In like manner, say they, we also, if we were afraid of
food, should be enslaved by the conception of fear. But it is requisite
that all things should be obedient to us. For, if we collect a little
water, indeed, which has received any filth, it becomes immediately
defiled and oppressed by the filth; but this is not the case with the
profound sea. Thus, also, aliments vanquish the pusillanimous; but where
there is an immense liberty with respect to food, all things are received
for nutriment, and no defilement is produced.” These men, therefore,
deceiving themselves by arguments of this kind, act in a manner
conformable to their deception. But, instead of obtaining liberty, being
precipitated into an abyss of infelicity, they are suffocated. This,
also, induced some of the Cynics to be desirous of eating every kind of
food, in consequence of their pertinaciously adhering to the cause of
errors, which we are accustomed to call a thing of an indifferent nature.

43. The man, however, who is cautious, and is suspicious of the
enchantments of nature, who has surveyed the essential properties of
body, and knows that it was adapted as an instrument to the powers of
the soul, will also know how readily passion is prepared to accord with
the body, whether we are willing or not, when any thing external strikes
it, and the pulsation at length arrives at perception. For perception
is, as it were, an answer [to that which causes the perception.] But
the soul cannot answer unless she wholly converts herself to the sound,
and transfers her animadversive eye to the pulsation. In short, the
irrational part not being able to judge to what extent, how, whence,
and what thing ought to be the object of attention, but of itself
being inconsiderate, like horses without a charioteer[31]; whither
it verges downward, thither it is borne along, without any power of
governing itself in things external. Nor does it know the fit time or
the measure of the food which should be taken, unless the eye of the
charioteer is attentive to it, which regulates and governs the motions of
irrationality, this part of the soul being essentially blind. But he who
takes away from reason its dominion over the irrational part, and permits
it to be borne along, conformably to its proper nature: such a one,
yielding to desire and anger, will suffer them to proceed to whatever
extent they please. On the contrary, the worthy man will so act that his
deeds may be conformable to presiding reason, even in the energies of the
irrational part.

44. And in this the worthy appears to differ from the depraved man,
that the former has every where reason present, governing and guiding,
like a charioteer, the irrational part; but the latter performs many
things without reason for his guide. Hence the latter is said to be most
irrational, and is borne along in a disorderly manner by irrationality;
but the former is obedient to reason, and superior to every irrational
desire. This, therefore, is the cause why the multitude err in words
and deeds, in desire and anger, and why, on the contrary, good men act
with rectitude, viz. that the former suffer the boy within them to do
whatever it pleases; but the latter give themselves up to the guidance
of the tutor of the boy, [_i.e._ to reason] and govern what pertains to
themselves in conjunction with it. Hence in food, and in other corporeal
energies and enjoyments, the charioteer being present, defines what is
commensurate and opportune. But when the charioteer is absent, and, as
some say, is occupied in his own concerns, then, if he also has with
him our attention, he does not permit it to be disturbed, or at all to
energize with the irrational power. If, however, he should permit our
attention to be directed to the boy, unaccompanied by himself, he would
destroy the man, who would be precipitately borne along by the folly of
the irrational part.

45. Hence, to worthy men, abstinence in food, and in corporeal enjoyments
and actions, is more appropriate than abstinence in what pertains to the
touch; because though, while we touch bodies, it is necessary we should
descend from our proper manners to the instruction of that which is most
irrational in us; yet this is still more necessary in the assumption of
food. For the irrational nature is incapable of considering what will be
the effect of it, because this part of the soul is essentially ignorant
of that which is absent. But, with respect to food, if it were possible
to be liberated from it, in the same manner as from visible objects,
when they are removed from the view; for we can attend to other things
when the imagination is withdrawn from them;—if this were possible, it
would be no great undertaking to be immediately emancipated from the
necessity of the mortal nature, by yielding, in a small degree, to it.
Since, however, a prolongation of time in cooking and digesting food, and
together with this the co-operation of sleep and rest, are requisite,
and, after these, a certain temperament from digestion, and a separation
of excrements, it is necessary that the tutor of the boy within us should
be present, who, selecting things of a light nature, and which will be
no impediment to him, may concede these to nature, in consequence of
foreseeing the future, and the impediment which will be produced by his
permitting the desires to introduce to us a burden not easily to be
borne, through the trifling pleasure arising from the deglutition of food.

46. Reason, therefore, very properly rejecting the much and the
superfluous, will circumscribe what is necessary in narrow boundaries,
in order that it may not be molested in procuring what the wants of the
body demand, through many things being requisite; nor being attentive to
elegance, will it need a multitude of servants; nor endeavour to receive
much pleasure in eating, nor, through satiety, to be filled with much
indolence; nor by rendering its burden [the body] more gross, to become
somnolent; nor through the body being replete with things of a fattening
nature, to render the bond more strong, but himself more sluggish and
imbecile in the performance of his proper works. For, let any man show
us who endeavours as much as possible to live according to intellect,
and not to be attracted by the passions of the body, that animal food
is more easily procured than the food from fruits and herbs; or that
the preparation of the former is more simple than that of the latter,
and, in short, that it does not require cooks, but, when compared with
inanimate nutriment, is unattended by pleasure, is lighter in concoction,
and is more rapidly digested, excites in a less degree the desires, and
contributes less to the strength of the body than a vegetable diet.

47. If, however, neither any physician, nor philosopher, nor wrestler,
nor any one of the vulgar, has dared to assert this, why should we not
willingly abstain from this corporeal burden? Why should we not, at the
same time, liberate ourselves from many inconveniences by abandoning a
fleshly diet? For we should not be liberated from one only, but from
myriads of evils, by accustoming ourselves to be satisfied with things
of the smallest nature; viz. we should be freed from a superabundance
of riches, from numerous servants, a multitude of utensils, a somnolent
condition, from many and vehement diseases, from medical assistance,
incentives to venery, more gross exhalations, an abundance of excrements,
the crassitude of the corporeal bond, from the strength which excites
to [base] actions, and, in short, from an Iliad of evils. But from all
these, inanimate and slender food, and which is easily obtained, will
liberate us, and will procure for us peace, by imparting salvation to
our reasoning power. For, as Diogenes says, thieves and enemies are not
found among those that feed on maize[32], but sycophants and tyrants are
produced from those who feed on flesh. The cause, however, of our being
in want of many things being taken away, together with the multitude of
nutriment introduced into the body, and also the weight of digestibles
being lightened, the eye of the soul will become free, and will be
established as in a port beyond the smoke and the waves of the corporeal
nature.

48. And this neither requires monition, nor demonstration, on account
of the evidence with which it is immediately attended. Hence, not only
those who endeavour to live according to intellect, and who establish
for themselves an intellectual life, as the end of their pursuits, have
perceived that this abstinence was necessary to the attainment of this
end; but, as it appears to me, nearly every philosopher, preferring
frugality to luxury, has rather embraced a life which is satisfied with
a little, than one that requires a multitude of things. And, what will
seem paradoxical to many, we shall find that this is asserted and praised
by men who thought that pleasure is the end of those that philosophize.
For most of the Epicureans, beginning from the Corypheus of their sect,
appear to have been satisfied with maize and fruits, and have filled
their writings with showing how little nature requires, and that its
necessities may be sufficiently remedied by slender and easily-procured
food.

49. For the wealth, say they, of nature is definite, and easily obtained;
but that which proceeds from vain opinions, is indefinite, and procured
with difficulty. For things which may be readily obtained, remove in a
beautiful and abundantly sufficient manner that which, through indigence,
is the cause of molestation to the flesh; and these are such as have the
simple nature of moist and dry aliments. But every thing else, say they,
which terminates in luxury, is not attended with a necessary appetition,
nor is it necessarily produced from a certain something which is in pain;
but partly arises from the molestation and pungency solely proceeding
from something not being present; partly from joy; and partly from vain
and false dogmas, which neither pertain to any natural defect, nor to
the dissolution of the human frame, those not being present. For things
which may every where be obtained, are sufficient for those purposes
which nature necessarily requires. But these, through their simplicity
and paucity, may be easily procured. And he, indeed, who feeds on flesh,
requires also inanimate natures; but he who is satisfied with things
inanimate, is easily supplied from the half of what the other wants, and
needs but a small expense for the preparation of his food.

50. They likewise say, it is requisite that he who prepares the
necessaries of life, should not afterwards make use of philosophy as an
accession; but, having obtained it, should, with a confident mind, thus
genuinely endure[33] the events of the day. For we shall commit what
pertains to ourselves to a bad counsellor, if we measure and procure
what is necessary to nature, without philosophy. Hence it is necessary
that those who philosophize should provide things of this kind, and
strenuously attend to them as much as possible. But, so far as there
is a dereliction from thence, [_i.e._ from philosophizing], which is
not capable of effecting a perfect purification[34], so far we should
not endeavour to procure either riches or nutriment. In conjunction,
therefore, with philosophy, we should engage in things of this kind,
and be immediately persuaded that it is much better to pursue what is
the least, the most simple, and light in nutriment. For that which is
least, and is unattended with molestation, is derived from that which is
least[35].

51. The preparation also of these things, draws along with it many
impediments, either from the weight of the body, [which they are
adapted to increase,] or from the difficulty of procuring them, or from
their preventing the continuity of the energy of our most principal
reasonings[36], or from some other cause. For this energy then becomes
immediately useless, and does not remain unchanged by the concomitant
perturbations. It is necessary, however, that a philosopher should hope
that he may not be in want of any thing through the whole of life. But
this hope will be sufficiently preserved by things which are easily
procured; while, on the other hand, this hope is frustrated by things of
a sumptuous nature. The multitude, therefore, on this account, though
their possessions are abundant, incessantly labour to obtain more, as if
they were in want. But the recollection that the greatest possible wealth
has no power worth mentioning of dissolving the perturbations of the
soul, will cause us to be satisfied with things easily obtained, and of
the most simple nature. Things also, which are very moderate and obvious,
and which may be procured with the greatest facility, remove the tumult
occasioned by the flesh. But the deficiency of things of a luxurious
nature will not disturb him who meditates on death. Farther still, the
pain arising from indigence is much milder than that which is produced by
repletion, and will be considered to be so by him who does not deceive
himself with vain opinions. Variety also of food not only does not
dissolve the perturbations of the soul, but does not even increase the
pleasure which is felt by the flesh. For this is terminated as soon as
pain is removed[37]. So that the feeding on flesh does not remove any
thing which is troublesome to nature, nor effect any thing which, unless
it is accomplished, will end in pain. But the pleasantness with which
it is attended is violent, and, perhaps, mingled with the contrary. For
it does not contribute to the duration of life, but to the variety of
pleasure; and in this respect resembles venereal enjoyments, and the
drinking of foreign wines, without which nature is able to remain. For
those things, without which nature cannot last, are very few, and may be
procured easily, and in conjunction with justice, liberty, quiet, and
abundant leisure.

52. Again, neither does animal food contribute, but is rather an
impediment to health. For health is preserved through those things by
which it is recovered. But it is recovered through a most slender and
fleshless diet; so that by this also it is preserved. If, however,
vegetable food does not contribute to the strength of Milo, nor, in
short, to an increase of strength, neither does a philosopher require
strength, or an increase of it, if he intends to give himself up to
contemplation, and not to an active and intemperate life. But it is
not at all wonderful, that the vulgar should fancy that animal food
contributes to health; for they also think that sensual enjoyments and
venery are preservative of health, none of which benefit any one; and
those that engage in them must be thankful if they are not injured by
them. And if many are not of this opinion, it is nothing to us. For
neither is any fidelity and constancy in friendship and benevolence to
be found among the vulgar; nor are they capable of receiving these,
nor of participating of wisdom, or any portion of it which deserves to
be mentioned. Neither do they understand what is privately or publicly
advantageous; nor are they capable of forming a judgment of depraved and
elegant manners, so as to distinguish the one from the other. And, in
addition to these things, they are full of insolence and intemperance. On
this account, there is no occasion to fear that there will not be those
who will feed on animals.

53. For if all men conceived rightly, there would be no need of fowlers,
or hunters, or fishermen, or swineherds. But animals governing
themselves, and having no guardian and ruler, would quickly perish,
and be destroyed by others, who would attack them and diminish their
multitude, as is found to be the case with myriads of animals on which
men do not feed. But all-various folly incessantly dwelling with mankind,
there will be an innumerable multitude of those who will voraciously
feed on flesh. It is necessary however to preserve health; not by the
fear of death, but for the sake of not being impeded in the attainment
of the good which is derived from contemplation. But that which is
especially preservative of health, is an undisturbed state of the soul,
and a tendency of the reasoning power towards truly existing being. For
much benefit is from hence derived to the body, as our associates have
demonstrated from experience. Hence some who have been afflicted with
the gout in the feet and hands, to such a degree as to be infested with
it for eight entire years, have expelled it through abandoning wealth,
and betaking themselves to the contemplation of divinity[38]. At the
same time, therefore, that they have abandoned riches, and a solicitude
about human concerns, they have also been liberated from bodily disease.
So that a certain state of the soul greatly contributes both to health
and to the good of the whole body. And to this also, for the most part,
a diminution of nutriment contributes. In short, as Epicurus likewise
has rightly said, that food is to be avoided, the enjoyment of which we
desire and pursue, but which, after we have enjoyed, we rank among things
of an unacceptable nature. But of this kind is every thing luxuriant and
gross. And in this manner those are affected, who are vehemently desirous
of such nutriment, and through it are involved either in great expense,
or in disease, or repletion, or the privation of leisure[39].

54. Hence also, in simple and slender food, repletion is to be avoided,
and every where we should consider what will be the consequence of the
possession or enjoyment of it, what the magnitude of it is, and what
molestation of the flesh or of the soul it is capable of dissolving. For
we ought never to act indefinitely, but in things of this kind we should
employ a boundary and measure; and infer by a reasoning process, that he
who fears to abstain from animal food, if he suffers himself to feed on
flesh through pleasure, is afraid of death. For immediately, together
with a privation of such food, he conceives that something indefinitely
dreadful will be present, the consequence of which will be death. But
from these and similar causes, an insatiable desire is produced of
riches, possessions, and renown, together with an opinion that every
good is increased with these in a greater extent of time, and the dread
of death as of an infinite evil. The pleasure however which is produced
through luxury, does not even approach to that which is experienced
by him who lives with frugality. For such a one has great pleasure in
thinking how little he requires. For luxury, astonishment about venereal
occupations, and ambition about external concerns, being taken away, what
remaining use can there be of idle wealth, which will be of no advantage
to us whatever, but will only become a burden, no otherwise than
repletion?—while, on the other hand, the pleasure arising from frugality
is genuine and pure. It is also necessary to accustom the body to become
alienated, as much as possible, from the pleasure of the satiety arising
from luxurious food, but not from the fulness produced by a slender diet,
in order that moderation may proceed through all things, and that what is
necessary, or what is most excellent, may fix a boundary to our diet. For
he who thus mortifies his body will receive every possible good, through
being sufficient to himself, and an assimilation to divinity. And thus
also, he will not desire a greater extent of time, as if it would bring
with it an augmentation of good. He will likewise thus be truly rich,
measuring wealth by a natural bound, and not by vain opinions. Thus too,
he will not depend on the hope of the greatest pleasure, the existence of
which is incredible, since this would be most troublesome. But he will
remain satisfied with his present condition, and will not be anxious to
live for a longer period of time.

55. Besides this also, is it not absurd, that he who is in great
affliction, or is in some grievous external calamity, or is bound with
chains, does not even think of food, nor concern himself about the means
of obtaining it; but when it is placed before him, refuses what is
necessary to his subsistence; and that the man who is truly in bonds, and
is tormented by inward calamities, should endeavour to procure a variety
of eatables, paying attention to things through which he will strengthen
his bonds? And how is it possible that this should be the conduct of men
who know what they suffer, and not rather of those who are delighted with
their calamities, and who are ignorant of the evils which they endure?
For these are affected in a way contrary to those who are in chains, and
who are conscious of their miserable condition; since these, experiencing
no gratification in the present life, and being full of immense
perturbation, insatiably aspire after another life. For no one who can
easily liberate himself from all perturbations, will desire to possess
silver tables and couches, and to have ointments and cooks, splendid
vessels and garments, and suppers remarkable for their sumptuousness and
variety; but such a desire arises from a perfect uselessness to every
purpose of the present life, from an indefinite generation of good, and
from immense perturbation. Hence some do not remember the past, the
recollection of it being expelled by the present; but others do not
inquire about the present, because they are not gratified with existing
circumstances.

56. The contemplative philosopher, however, will invariably adopt a
slender diet. For he knows the particulars in which his bond consists,
so that he is not capable of desiring luxuries. Hence, being delighted
with simple food, he will not seek for animal nutriment, as if he was
not satisfied with a vegetable diet. But if the nature of the body
in a philosopher was not such as we have supposed it to be, and was
not so tractable, and so adapted to have its wants satisfied through
things easily procured, and it was requisite to endure some pains and
molestations for the sake of true salvation, ought we not [willingly] to
endure them? For when it is requisite that we should be liberated from
disease, do we not voluntarily sustain many pains, viz. while we are cut,
covered with blood, burnt, drink bitter medicines, and are purged through
the belly, through emetics, and through the nostrils, and do we not also
reward those who cause us to suffer in this manner? And this being the
case, ought we not to sustain every thing, though of the most afflictive
nature, with equanimity, for the sake of being purified from internal
disease, since our contest is for immortality, and an association with
divinity, from which we are prevented through an association with the
body? By no means, therefore, ought we to follow the laws of the body,
which are violent and adverse to the laws of intellect, and to the paths
which lead to salvation. Since, however, we do not now philosophize about
the endurance of pain, but about the rejection of pleasures which are not
necessary, what apology can remain for those, who impudently endeavour to
defend their own intemperance?

57. For if it is requisite not to dissemble any thing through fear, but
to speak freely, it is no otherwise possible to obtain the end [of a
contemplative life], than by adhering to God, as if fastened by a nail,
being divulsed from body, and those pleasures of the soul which subsist
through it; since our salvation is effected by deeds, and not by a mere
attention to words. But as it is not possible with any kind of diet, and,
in short, by feeding on flesh, to become adapted to an union with even
some partial deity, much less is this possible with that God who is
beyond all things, and is above a nature simply incorporeal; but after
all-various purifications, both of soul and body, he who is naturally
of an excellent disposition, and lives with piety and purity, will
scarcely be thought worthy to perceive him. So that, by how much more the
Father of all things excels in simplicity, purity, and sufficiency to
himself, as being established far beyond all material representation, by
so much the more is it requisite, that he who approaches to him should
be in every respect pure and holy, beginning from his body, and ending
internally, and distributing to each of the parts, and in short to every
thing which is present with him, a purity adapted to the nature of each.
Perhaps, however, these things will not be contradicted by any one. But
it may be doubted, why we admit abstinence from animal food to pertain
to purity, though in sacrifices we slay sheep and oxen, and conceive
that these immolations are pure and acceptable to the Gods. Hence, since
the solution of this requires a long discussion, the consideration of
sacrifices must be assumed from another principle.


FOOTNOTES:

[13] Porphyry elsewhere calls this Firmus Castricius his friend and
fellow disciple. See more concerning him in Porphyry’s Life of Plotinus.

[14] παρανομηματα. Porphyry calls the conduct of Firmus _illegitimate_,
because the feeding on flesh is for the most part contrary to the laws of
genuine philosophy.

[15] The original in this place is, ἢ δι’ απατην ουν, ἢ το μηδεν
διαφερειν ηγεισθαι προς φρονησιν, κ.τ.λ.; but, for ἢ το μηδεν διαφερειν,
I read δια το μηδεν διαφερειν. And this appears to have been the reading
which Felicianus found in his MS.; for his version of this passage is,
“Vel igitur deceptione inductus, quod sive hoc sive illo modo vescaris,
&c.”

[16] This philosopher was an auditor of Plato and Speusippus.

[17] Hesiod. Op. et Di. lib. I. v. 275, &c.

[18] This philosopher was a Mitylenæan, and is said to have been an
auditor of, and also the successor of, Epicurus.

[19] Iliad, XI. v. 479.

[20] Iliad, IV. v. 35.

[21] Iliad, XXII. v. 347.

[22] _i.e._ Sacrifices from twelve animals.

[23] For Cyzicus was situated in an island.

[24] In the original εαν μη προση και η κατ’ αυτα φυσιωσις και ζωη; but
it is obviously necessary for φυσιωσις to read φυσις.

[25] viz. As it appears to me, a pleasurable, a profitable, and a
virtuous end, which last is a truly beautiful and good end.

[26] For φιλτρων here, I read φιληδονιων.

[27] The multitude are ignorant that they are ignorant with respect to
objects of all others the most splendid and real; but the Coryphæan
philosopher is ignorant that he is ignorant with respect to objects
most unsubstantial and obscure. The former ignorance is the consequence
of a defect, but the latter of a transcendency of gnostic energy. What
Porphyry here says of the Coryphæan philosopher, is derived from the
Theætetus of Plato.

[28] See p. 52 of my translation of the Theætetus of Plato, from which
Dialogue, what Porphyry here says, as well as what he a little before
said, is derived.

[29] See the Phædo of Plato, where this is asserted.

[30] Sense, and that which is beautiful in the energies of sense, are
thus denominated by Plato.

[31] The rational part of the soul is assimilated by Plato, in the
Phædrus, to a charioteer, and the two irrational parts, _desire_ and
_anger_, to two horses. See my translation of that Dialogue.

[32] A kind of bread made of milk and flour.

[33] In the original, αλλα παρασκευασαμενον το θαρρειν τῃ ψυχῃ γνησιως
ουτως αντεχεσθαι των καθ’ ημεραν. But the editor of the quarto edition
of this work, who appears to have been nothing more than a mere verbal
critic, says, in a note on this passage, that the word αντεχεσθαι,
signifies _pertinacissime illis inhærere, nihil ultra studere_; whereas
it must be obvious to any man who understands what is here said, that in
this place it signifies _to endure_.

[34] In the original, ο μη κυριευσει της τελειας εκθαρρησεως; but for
εκθαρρησεως I read with Felicianus εκκαθαρσεως.

[35] In the original, ελαχιστον γαρ και το οχληρον εκ του ελαχιστου. But
it is obviously necessary for οχληρον to read ανοχληρον, and yet this was
not perceived by the German editor of this work, Jacob Rhoer.

[36] _i.e._ Of our reasonings about intelligible objects.

[37] Conformable to this, it is beautifully observed by Aristotle, in his
Nicomachean Ethics, that corporeal pleasures are the remedies of pain,
and that they fill up the indigence of nature, but do not perfect any
energy of the [rational] soul.

[38] This is said by Porphyry, in his Life of Plotinus, to have been the
case with the senator Rogatianus.

[39] And leisure, to those who knew how rightly to employ it, is, as
Socrates said, καλλιστον κτηματων, “_the most beautiful of possessions_.”




ON ABSTINENCE FROM ANIMAL FOOD.

BOOK THE SECOND.


1. Pursuing therefore the inquiries pertaining to simplicity and purity
of diet, we have now arrived, O Castricius, at the discussion of
sacrifices; the consideration of which is difficult, and at the same time
requires much explanation, if we intend to decide concerning it in such a
way as will be acceptable to the Gods. Hence, as this is the proper place
for such a discussion, we shall now unfold what appears to us to be the
truth on this subject, and what is capable of being narrated, correcting
what was overlooked in the hypothesis proposed from the beginning.

2. In the first place therefore we say, it does not follow because
animals are slain that it is necessary to eat them. Nor does he who
admits the one, I mean that they should be slain, entirely prove that
they should be eaten. For the laws permit us to defend ourselves against
enemies who attack us [by killing them]; but it did not seem proper to
these laws to grant that we should eat them, as being a thing contrary to
the nature of man. In the second place, it does not follow, that because
it is proper to sacrifice certain animals to dæmons, or Gods, or certain
powers, through causes either known or unknown to men, it is therefore
necessary to feed on animals. For it may be shown, that men assumed
animals in sacrifices, which no one even of those who are accustomed
to feed on flesh, would endure to taste. Moreover, in the slaying of
animals, the same error is overlooked. For it does not follow, that if it
is requisite to kill some, it is therefore necessary to slay all animals,
as neither must it be granted, that if irrational animals, therefore men
also may be slain.

3. Besides, abstinence from animal food, as we have said in the first
book, is not simply recommended to all men, but to philosophers, and to
those especially, who suspend their felicity from God, and the imitation
of him. For neither in the political life do legislators ordain that the
same things shall be performed by private individuals and the priests,
but conceding certain things to the multitude, pertaining to food and
other necessaries of life, they forbid the priests to use them, punishing
the transgression of their mandates by death, or some great fine.

4. For these things not being confused, but distinguished in a proper
manner, most of the opposing arguments will be found to be vain. For the
greater part of them endeavour to show, either that it is necessary to
slay animals, on account of the injuries sustained from them, and it is
assumed as a thing consequent, that it is proper to eat them; or because
animals are slain in sacrifices, it is inferred that therefore they
may be eaten by men. And again, if it is requisite to destroy certain
animals, on account of their ferocity, it is conceived, that it must
follow, that tame animals likewise ought to be slain. If, also, some
persons may be allowed to eat them, such as those who engage in athletic
exercises, soldiers, and those who are employed in bodily labour,
therefore this may likewise be permitted to philosophers; and if to some,
therefore to all of them; though all these inferences are bad, and are
incapable of exhibiting any necessity for their adoption. And, indeed,
that all of them are bad, will be immediately evident to men that are not
contentious. But some of these inferences we have already confuted, and
we shall show the fallacy of others as we proceed. Now, however, we shall
discuss what pertains to the consideration of sacrifices, unfolding the
principles from which they originated, what the first sacrifices were,
and of what kind they were; how they came to be changed, and whence the
change arose; whether all things ought to be sacrificed by a philosopher,
and from what animals sacrifices are made. In short, we shall unfold
every thing pertaining to the proposed subject, discovering some things
ourselves, but receiving others from the ancients, and as much as
possible directing our attention to what is commensurate and adapted to
the hypothesis, [or thing intended to be investigated.]

5. It seems that the period is of immense antiquity, from which a nation,
the most learned of all others[40], as Theophrastus says, and who inhabit
the most sacred region made by the Nile, began first, from the vestal
hearth, to sacrifice to the celestial Gods, not myrrh, or cassia, nor
the first-fruits of things mingled with the crocus of frankincense; for
these were assumed many generations afterwards, in consequence of error
gradually increasing, when men, wanting the necessaries of life, offered,
with great labour and many tears, some drops of these, as first-fruits,
to the Gods. Hence, they did not at first sacrifice these, but grass,
which, as a certain soft wool of prolific nature, they plucked with
their hands. For the earth produced trees prior to animals; and long
before trees grass, which germinates annually. Hence, gathering the
blades and roots, and all the germs of this herb, they committed them
to the flames, as a sacrifice to the visible celestial Gods, to whom
they paid immortal honour through fire. For to these, also, we preserve
in temples an immortal fire, because it is especially most similar to
these divinities. But from the exhalation or smoke [εκ δε της θυμιασεως]
of things produced in the earth, they called the offerings θυμιατηρια,
_thumiateria_; _to sacrifice_, they called θυειν, _thuein_, and _the
sacrifices_, θυσιαι, _thusiai_; all which, as if unfolding the error
which was afterwards introduced, we do not rightly interpret; since we
call the worship of the Gods through the immolation of animals θυσια,
_thusia_. But so careful were the ancients not to transgress this custom,
that against those who, neglecting the pristine, introduced novel modes
of sacrificing, they employed _execrations_[41], and therefore they
now denominate the substances which are used for fumigations αρωματα,
_aromata_, i.e. _aromatics_, [or things of an execrable nature.] The
antiquity, however, of the before-mentioned fumigations may be perceived
by him who considers that many now also sacrifice certain portions of
odoriferous wood. Hence, when after grass, the earth produced trees, and
men at first fed on the fruits of the oak, they offered to the Gods but
few of the fruits on account of their rarity, but in sacrifices they
burnt many of its leaves. After this, however, when human life proceeded
to a milder nutriment, and sacrifices from nuts were introduced, they
said _enough of the oak_.

6. But as barley first appeared after leguminous substances, the race
of men used it in primitive sacrifices, moistening it for this purpose
with water. Afterwards, when they had broken and bruised it, so as to
render it eatable, as the instruments of this operation afforded a divine
assistance to human life, they concealed them in an arcane place, and
approached them as things of a sacred nature. But esteeming the food
produced from it when bruised to be blessed, when compared with their
former nutriment, they offered, in fine, the first-fruits of it to the
Gods. Hence also now, at the end of the sacrifices, we use fruits that
are bruised or ground; testifying by this how much fumigations have
departed from their ancient simplicity; at the same time not perceiving
on what account we perform each of these. Proceeding, however, from
hence, and being more abundantly supplied, both with other fruits and
wheat, the first-fruits of cakes, made of the fine flour of wheat, and of
every thing else, were offered in sacrifices to the Gods; many flowers
being collected for this purpose, and with these all that was conceived
to be beautiful, and adapted, by its odour, to a divine sense, being
mingled. From these, also, some were used for garlands, and others were
given to the fire. But when they had discovered the use of the divine
drops of wine, and honey, and likewise of oil, for the purposes of human
life, then they sacrificed these to their causes, the Gods.

7. And these things appear to be testified by the splendid procession in
honour of the Sun and the Hours, which is even now performed at Athens,
and in which there were other herbs besides grass, and also acorns, the
fruit of the crab tree, barley, wheat, a heap of dried figs, cakes made
of wheaten and barley flour; and, in the last place, an earthen pot.
This mode, however, of offering first-fruits in sacrifices, having, at
length, proceeded to great illegality, the assumption of immolations,
most dire and full of cruelty, was introduced; so that it would seem that
the execrations which were formerly uttered against us, have now received
their consummation, in consequence of men slaughtering animals, and
defiling altars with blood; and this commenced from that period in which
mankind tasted of blood, through having experienced the evils of famine
and war. Divinity, therefore, as Theophrastus says, being indignant,
appears to have inflicted a punishment adapted to the crime. Hence some
men became atheists; but others, in consequence of forming erroneous
conceptions of a divine nature, may be more justly called κακοφρονες,
_kakophrones_, than κακοθεοι, _kakotheoi_[42], because they think that
the Gods are depraved, and in no respect naturally more excellent than
we are. Thus, therefore, some were seen to live without sacrificing any
thing, and without offering the first-fruits of their possessions to the
Gods; but others sacrificed improperly, and made use of illegal oblations.

8. Hence the Thoes[43], who dwell in the confines of Thrace, as they
neither offered any first-fruits, nor sacrificed to the Gods, were at
that time suddenly taken away from the rest of mankind; so that neither
the inhabitants, nor the city, nor the foundations of the houses, could
by any one be found.

    “Men prone to ill, denied the Gods their due,
    And by their follies made their days but few.
    The altars of the bless’d neglected stand,
    Without the offerings which the laws demand;
    But angry Jove in dust this people laid,
    Because no honours to the Gods they paid.”

                                       HESIOD. Op. et Di. lib. i. v. 133.

Nor did they offer first-fruits to the Gods, as it was just that they
should. But with respect to the Bassarians, who formerly were not only
emulous of sacrificing bulls, but also ate the flesh of slaughtered men,
in the same manner as we now do with other animals; for we offer to the
Gods some parts of them as first-fruits, and eat the rest;—with respect
to these men, who has not heard, that insanely rushing on and biting each
other, and in reality feeding on blood, they did not cease to act in this
manner till the whole race was destroyed of those who used sacrifices of
this kind?

9. The sacrifice, therefore, through animals is posterior and most
recent, and originated from a cause which is not of a pleasing nature,
like that of the sacrifice from fruits, but received its commencement
either from famine, or some other unfortunate circumstance. The causes,
indeed, of the peculiar mactations among the Athenians, had their
beginning either in ignorance, or anger, or fear. For the slaughter
of swine is attributed to an involuntary error of Clymene, who, by
unintentionally striking, slew the animal. Hence her husband, being
terrified as if he had perpetrated an illegal deed, consulted the
oracle of the Pythian God about it. But as the God did not condemn
what had happened, the slaughter of animals was afterwards considered
as a thing of an indifferent nature. The inspector, however, of sacred
rites, who was the offspring of prophets, wishing to make an offering
of first-fruits from sheep, was permitted to do so, it is said, by an
oracle, but with much caution and fear. For the oracle was as follows:—

    “Offspring of prophets, sheep by force to slay,
    The Gods permit not thee; but with wash’d hands
    For thee ’tis lawful any sheep to kill,
    That dies a voluntary death.”

10. But a goat was first slain in Icarus, a mountain of Attica, because
it had cropped a vine. And Diomus, who was a priest of Jupiter Polieus,
was the first that slew an ox; because, when the festival sacred to
Jupiter, and called Diipolia, was celebrated, and fruits were prepared
after the ancient manner, an ox approaching tasted the sacred cake.
But the priest, being aided by others who were present, slew the ox.
And these are the causes, indeed, which are assigned by the Athenians
for this deed; but by others, other causes are narrated. All of them,
however, are full of explanations that are not holy. But most of them
assign famine, and the injustice with which it is attended, as the cause.
Hence men having tasted of animals, they offered them in sacrifice, as
first-fruits, to the Gods; but prior to this, they were accustomed to
abstain from animal food. Whence, since the sacrifice of animals is
not more ancient than necessary food, it may be determined from this
circumstance what ought to be the nutriment of men. But it does not
follow, because men have tasted of and offered animals in sacrifices as
first-fruits, that it must necessarily be admitted to be pious to eat
that which was not piously offered to the Gods.

11. But what especially proves that every thing of this kind originated
from injustice, is this, that the same things are neither sacrificed
nor eaten in every nation, but that they conjecture what it is fit for
them to do from what they find to be useful to themselves. With the
Egyptians, therefore, and Phœnicians, any one would sooner taste human
flesh than the flesh of a cow. The cause, however, is, that this animal
being useful, is also rare among them. Hence, though they eat bulls, and
offer them in sacrifice as first-fruits, yet they spare cows for the
sake of their progeny, and ordain that, if any one kill them, it shall
be considered as an expiation. And thus, for the sake of utility in one
and the same genus of animals, they distinguish what is pious, and what
is impious. So that these particulars subsisting after this manner,
Theophrastus reasonably forbids those to sacrifice animals who wish to be
truly pious; employing these, and other similar arguments, such as the
following.

12. In the first place, indeed, because we sacrificed animals through the
occurrence, as we have said, of a greater necessity. For pestilence and
war were the causes that introduced the necessity of eating them. Since,
therefore, we are supplied with fruits, what occasion is there to use
the sacrifice of necessity? In the next place, the remunerations of, and
thanks for benefits, are to be given differently to different persons,
according to the worth of the benefit conferred; so that the greatest
remunerations, and from things of the most honourable nature, are to
be given to those who have benefited us in the greatest degree, and
especially if they are the causes of these gifts. But the most beautiful
and honourable of those things, by which the Gods benefit us, are the
fruits of the earth. For through these they preserve us, and enable us
to live legitimately; so that, from these we ought to venerate them.
Besides, it is requisite to sacrifice those things by the sacrifice of
which we shall not injure any one. For nothing ought to be so innoxious
to all things as sacrifice. But if some one should say, that God gave
animals for our use, no less than the fruits of the earth, yet it does
not follow that they are, therefore, to be sacrificed, because in so
doing they are injured, through being deprived of life. For _sacrifice_
is, as the name implies, something _holy_[44]. But no one is holy who
requites a benefit from things which are the property of another, whether
he takes fruits or plants from one who is unwilling to be deprived of
them. For how can this be holy, when those are injured from whom they
are taken? If, however, he who takes away fruits from others does not
sacrifice with sanctity, it cannot be holy to sacrifice things taken from
others, which are in every respect more honourable than the fruits of the
earth. For a more dire deed is thus perpetrated. But soul is much more
honourable than the vegetable productions of the earth, which it is not
fit, by sacrificing animals, that we should take away.

13. Some one, however, perhaps may say, that we also take away something
from plants [when we eat, and sacrifice them to the Gods]. But the
ablation is not similar; since we do not take this away from those who
are unwilling that we should. For, if we omitted to gather them, they
would spontaneously drop their fruits. The gathering of the fruits, also,
is not attended with the destruction of the plants, as it is when animals
lose their animating principle. And, with respect to the fruit which
we receive from bees, since this is obtained by our labour, it is fit
that we should derive a common benefit from it. For bees collect their
honey from plants; but we carefully attend to them. On which account it
is requisite that such a division should be made [of our attention and
their labour] that they may suffer no injury. But that which is useless
to them, and beneficial to us, will be the reward which we receive from
them [of our attention to their concerns]. In sacrifices, therefore, we
should abstain from animals. For, though all things are in reality the
property of the Gods, yet plants appear to be our property; since we sow
and cultivate them, and nourish them by other attentions which we pay to
them. We ought to sacrifice, therefore, from our own property, and not
from the property of others; since that which may be procured at a small
expense, and which may easily be obtained, is more holy, more acceptable
to the Gods, and better adapted to the purposes of sacrifice, and to the
exercise of continual piety. Hence, that which is neither holy, nor to
be obtained at a small expense, is not to be offered in sacrifice, even
though it should be present.

14. But that animals do not rank among things which may be procured
easily, and at a small expense, may be seen by directing our view to
the greater part of our race: for we are not now to consider that some
men abound in sheep, and others in oxen. In the first place, therefore,
there are many nations that do not possess any of those animals which are
offered in sacrifice, some ignoble animals, perhaps, excepted. And, in
the second place, most of those that dwell in cities themselves, possess
these but rarely. But if some one should say that the inhabitants of
cities have not mild fruits in abundance; yet, though this should be
admitted, they are not in want of the other vegetable productions of
the earth; nor is it so difficult to procure fruits as it is to procure
animals. Hence an abundance of fruits, and other vegetables, is more
easily obtained than that of animals. But that which is obtained with
facility, and at a small expense, contributes to incessant and universal
piety.

15. Experience also testifies that the Gods rejoice in this more than
in sumptuous offerings. For when that Thessalian sacrificed to the
Pythian deity oxen with gilt horns, and hecatombs, Apollo said, that the
offering of Hermioneus was more gratifying to him, though he had only
sacrificed as much meal as he could take with his three fingers out of
a sack. But when the Thessalian, on hearing this, placed all the rest
of his offerings on the altar, the God again said, that by so doing his
present was doubly more unacceptable to him than his former offering.
Hence the sacrifice which is attended with a small expense is pleasing to
the Gods, and divinity looks more to the disposition and manners of those
that sacrifice, than to the multitude of the things which are sacrificed.

16. Theopompus likewise narrates things similar to these, viz. that
a certain Magnesian came from Asia to Delphi; a man very rich, and
abounding in cattle, and that he was accustomed every year to make many
and magnificent sacrifices to the Gods, partly through the abundance
of his possessions, and partly through piety and wishing to please
the Gods. But being thus disposed, he came to the divinity at Delphi,
bringing with him a hecatomb for the God, and magnificently honouring
Apollo, he consulted his oracle. Conceiving also that he worshipped the
Gods in a manner more beautiful than that of all other men, he asked the
Pythian deity who the man was that, with the greatest promptitude, and
in the best manner, venerated divinity, and made the most acceptable
sacrifices, conceiving that on this occasion the God would deem him to
be pre-eminent. The Pythian deity however answered, that Clearchus, who
dwelt in Methydrium, a town of Arcadia, worshipped the Gods in a way
surpassing that of all other men. But the Magnesian being astonished,
was desirous of seeing Clearchus, and of learning from him the manner in
which he performed his sacrifices. Swiftly, therefore, betaking himself
to Methydrium, in the first place, indeed, he despised the smallness
and vileness of the town, conceiving that neither any private person,
nor even the whole city, could honour the Gods more magnificently and
more beautifully than he did. Meeting, however, with the man, he thought
fit to ask him after what manner he reverenced the Gods. But Clearchus
answered him, that he diligently sacrificed to them at proper times
in every month at the new moon, crowning and adorning the statues of
Hermes and Hecate, and the other sacred images which were left to us by
our ancestors, and that he also honoured the Gods with frankincense,
and sacred wafers and cakes. He likewise said, that he performed public
sacrifices annually, omitting no festive day; and that in these festivals
he worshipped the Gods, not by slaying oxen, nor by cutting victims into
fragments, but that he sacrificed whatever he might casually meet with,
sedulously offering the first-fruits to the Gods of all the vegetable
productions of the seasons, and of all the fruits with which he was
supplied. He added, that some of these he placed before the [statues of
the] Gods[45], but that he burnt others on their altars; and that, being
studious of frugality, he avoided the sacrificing of oxen.

17. By some writers, also, it is related, that certain tyrants, after the
Carthaginians were conquered, having, with great strife among themselves,
placed hecatombs before Apollo, afterwards inquired of the God with which
of the offerings he was most delighted; and that he answered, contrary
to all their expectation, that he was most pleased with the cakes of
Docimus. But this Docimus was an inhabitant of Delphi, and cultivated
some rugged and stony land. Docimus, therefore, coming on that day from
the place which he cultivated, took from a bag which was fastened round
him a few handfuls of meal, and sacrificed them to the God, who was more
delighted with his offering than with the magnificent sacrifices of
the tyrants. Hence, also, a certain poet, because the affair was known,
appears to have asserted things of a similar kind, as we are informed by
Antiphanes in his Mystics:

    In simple offerings most the Gods delight:
    For though before them hecatombs are placed,
    Yet frankincense is burnt the last of all.
    An indication this that all the rest,
    Preceding, was a vain expense, bestowed
    Through ostentation, for the sake of men;
    But a small offering gratifies the Gods.

Menander likewise, in the comedy called the Morose, says,

    Pious th’ oblation which with frankincense
    And _popanum_[46] is made; for in the fire
    Both these, when placed, divinity accepts.

18. On this account also, earthen, wooden, and wicker vessels were
formerly used, and especially in public sacrifices, the ancients
being persuaded that divinity is delighted with things of this kind.
Whence, even now, the most ancient vessels, and which are made of
wood, are thought to be more divine, both on account of the matter
and the simplicity of the art by which they were fashioned. It is
said, therefore, that Æschylus, on his brother’s asking him to write a
Pæan in honour of Apollo, replied, that the best Pæan was written by
Tynnichus[47]; and that if his composition were to be compared with that
of Tynnichus, the same thing would take place as if new were compared
with ancient statues. For the latter, though they are simple in their
formation, are conceived to be divine; but the former, though they are
most accurately elaborated, produce indeed admiration, but are not
believed to possess so much of a divine nature. Hence Hesiod, praising
the law of ancient sacrifices, very properly says,

    Your country’s rites in sacrifice observe:
    [In pious works] the ancient law is best[48].

19. But those who have written concerning sacred operations and
sacrifices, admonish us to be accurate in preserving what pertains to
the _popana_, because these are more acceptable to the Gods than the
sacrifice which is performed through the mactation of animals. Sophocles
also, in describing a sacrifice which is pleasing to divinity, says in
his Polyidus:

    The skins of sheep in sacrifice were used,
    Libations too of wine, grapes well preserved,
    And fruits collected in a heap of every kind;
    The olive’s pinguid juice, and waxen work
    Most variegated, of the yellow bee.

Formerly, also, there were venerable monuments in Delos of those who came
from the Hyperboreans, bearing handfuls [of fruits]. It is necessary,
therefore, that, being purified in our manners, we should make oblations,
offering to the Gods those sacrifices which are pleasing to them, and not
such as are attended with great expense. Now, however, if a man’s body
is not pure and invested with a splendid garment, he does not think it
is qualified for the sanctity of sacrifice. But when he has rendered his
body splendid, together with his garment, though his soul at the same
time is not purified from vice, yet he betakes himself to sacrifice,
and thinks that it is a thing of no consequence; as if divinity did not
especially rejoice in that which is most divine in our nature, when it
is in a pure condition, as being allied to his essence. In Epidaurus,
therefore, there was the following inscription on the doors of the temple:

    Into an odorous temple, he who goes
    Should pure and holy be; but to be wise
    In what to sanctity pertains, is to be pure.

20. But that God is not delighted with the amplitude of sacrifices,
but with any casual offering, is evident from this, that of our daily
food, whatever it may be that is placed before us, we all of us make
an offering to the Gods, before we have tasted it ourselves; this
offering being small indeed, but the greatest testimony of honour to
divinity. Moreover, Theophrastus shows, by enumerating many of the rites
of different countries, that the sacrifices of the ancients were from
fruits, and he narrates what pertains to libations in the following
manner: “Ancient sacrifices were for the most part performed with
sobriety. But those sacrifices are sober in which the libations are made
with water. Afterwards, however, libations were made with honey. For we
first receive this liquid fruit prepared for us by the bees. In the third
place, libations were made with oil; and in the fourth and last place
with wine.”

21. These things, however, are testified not only by the pillars which
are preserved in Cyrbe[49], and which contain, as it were, certain true
descriptions of the Cretan sacred rites of the Corybantes; but also by
Empedocles, who, in discussing what pertains to sacrifices and theogony,
or the generation of the Gods, says:

    With them nor Mars nor tumult dire was found,
    Nor Saturn, Neptune, or the sovereign Jove,
    But Venus [beauty’s] queen.

And Venus is friendship. Afterwards he adds,

    With painted animals, and statues once
    Of sacred form, with unguents sweet of smell,
    The fume of frankincense and genuine myrrh,
    And with libations poured upon the ground
    Of yellow honey, Venus was propitious made.

Which ancient custom is still even now preserved by some persons as a
certain vestige of the truth. And in the last place, Empedocles says,

    Nor then were altars wet with blood of bulls
    Irrationally slain.

22. For, as it appears to me, when friendship and a proper sense of the
duties pertaining to kindred natures, was possessed by all men, no one
slaughtered any living being, in consequence of thinking that other
animals were allied to him. But when strife and tumult, every kind of
contention, and the principle of war, invaded mankind, then, for the
first time, no one in reality spared any one of his kindred natures.
The following particulars, likewise, ought to be considered: For, as
though there is an affinity between us and noxious men, who, as it were,
by a certain impetus of their own nature and depravity, are incited to
injure any one they may happen to meet, yet we think it requisite that
all of them should be punished and destroyed; thus also, with respect to
those irrational animals that are naturally malefic and unjust, and who
are impelled to injure those that approach them, it is perhaps fit that
they should be destroyed. But with respect to other animals who do not
at all act unjustly, and are not naturally impelled to injure us, it is
certainly unjust to destroy and murder them, no otherwise than it would
be to slay men who are not iniquitous. And this seems to evince, that the
justice between us and other animals does not arise from some of them
being naturally noxious and malefic, but others not, as is also the case
with respect to men.

23. Are therefore those animals to be sacrificed to the Gods which are
thought to be deserving of death? But how can this be possible, if they
are naturally depraved? For it is no more proper to sacrifice such as
these, than it would be to sacrifice mutilated animals. For thus, indeed,
we shall offer the first-fruits of things of an evil nature, but we shall
not sacrifice for the sake of honouring the Gods. Hence, if animals
are to be sacrificed to the Gods, we should sacrifice those that are
perfectly innoxious. It is however acknowledged, that those animals are
not to be destroyed who do not at all injure us, so that neither are they
to be sacrificed to the Gods. If, therefore, neither these, nor those
that are noxious, are to be sacrificed, is it not evident that we should
abstain from them more than from any thing else, and that we should not
sacrifice any one of them, though it is fit that some of them should be
destroyed?

24. To which may be added, that we should sacrifice to the Gods for
the sake of three things, viz. either for the sake of honouring them,
or of testifying our gratitude, or through our want of good. For, as
we offer first-fruits to good men, thus also we think it is necessary
that we should offer them to the Gods. But we honour the Gods, either
exploring the means of averting evils and obtaining good, or when we have
been previously benefited, or in order that we may obtain some present
advantage and assistance, or merely for the purpose of venerating the
goodness of their nature. So that if the first-fruits of animals are
to be offered to the Gods, some of them for the sake of this are to be
sacrificed. For whatever we sacrifice, we sacrifice for the sake of some
one of the above-mentioned particulars. Is it therefore to be thought
that God is honoured by us, when we are directly seen to act unjustly
through the first-fruits which we offer to him? Or will he not rather
think that he is dishonoured by such a sacrifice, in which, by immolating
animals that have not at all injured us, we acknowledge that we have
acted unjustly. So that no one of other animals is to be sacrificed for
the sake of honouring divinity. Nor yet are they to be sacrificed for the
purpose of testifying our gratitude to the Gods. For he who makes a just
retribution for the benefits he has received, ought not to make it by
doing an injury to certain other animals. For he will no more appear to
make a retribution than he who, plundering his neighbour of his property,
should bestow it on another person for the sake of honour. Neither are
animals to be sacrificed for the sake of obtaining a certain good of
which we are in want. For he who endeavours to be benefited by acting
unjustly, is to be suspected as one who would not be grateful even when
he is benefited. So that animals are not to be sacrificed to the Gods
through the expectation of deriving advantage from the sacrifice. For
he who does this, may perhaps elude men, but it is impossible that he
can elude divinity. If, therefore, we ought to sacrifice for the sake of
a certain thing, but this is not to be done for the sake of any of the
before mentioned particulars, it is evident that animals ought not to be
sacrificed.

25. For, by endeavouring to obliterate the truth of these things through
the pleasures which we derive from sacrifices, we deceive ourselves, but
cannot deceive divinity. Of those animals, therefore, which are of an
ignoble nature, which do not impart to our life any superior utility, and
which do not afford us any pleasure, we do not sacrifice any one to the
Gods. For who ever sacrificed serpents, scorpions, and apes, or any one
of such like animals? But we do not abstain from any one of those animals
which afford a certain utility to our life, or which have something in
them that contributes to our enjoyments; since we, in reality, cut their
throats, and excoriate them, under the patronage of divinity[50]. For we
sacrifice to the Gods oxen and sheep, and besides these, stags and birds,
and fat hogs, though they do not at all participate of purity, but afford
us delight. And of these animals, indeed, some, by co-operating with our
labours, afford assistance to our life, but others supply us with food,
or administer to our other wants. But those which effect neither of
these, yet, through the enjoyment which is derived from them, are slain
by men in sacrifices similarly with those who afford us utility. We do
not, however, sacrifice asses or elephants, or any other of those animals
that co-operate with us in our labours, but are not subservient to our
pleasure; though, sacrificing being excepted, we do not abstain from
such like animals, but we cut their throats on account of the delight
with which the deglutition of them is attended; and of those which are
fit to be sacrificed, we do not sacrifice such as are acceptable to the
Gods, but such as in a greater degree gratify the desires of men; thus
testifying against ourselves, that we persist in sacrificing to the Gods,
for the sake of our own pleasure, and not for the sake of gratifying the
Gods.

26. But of the Syrians, the Jews indeed, through the sacrifice which
they first made, even now, says Theophrastus, sacrifice animals, and if
we were persuaded by them to sacrifice in the same way that they do,
we should abstain from the deed. For they do not feast on the flesh of
the sacrificed animals, but having thrown the whole of the victims into
the fire, and poured much honey and wine on them during the night, they
swiftly consume the sacrifice, in order that the all-seeing sun may
not become a spectator of it. And they do this, fasting during all the
intermediate days, and through the whole of this time, as belonging to
the class of philosophers, and also discourse with each other about the
divinity[51]. But in the night, they apply themselves to the theory of
the stars, surveying them, and through prayers invoking God. For these
make offerings both of other animals and themselves, doing this from
necessity, and not from their own will. The truth of this, however, may
be learnt by any one who directs his attention to the Egyptians, the most
learned of all men; who are so far from slaying other animals, that they
make the images of these to be imitations of the Gods; so adapted and
allied do they conceive these to be both to Gods and men.

27. For at first, indeed, sacrifices of fruits were made to the Gods;
but, in the course of time, men becoming negligent of sanctity, in
consequence of fruits being scarce, and, through the want of legitimate
nutriment, being impelled to eat each other; then supplicating divinity
with many prayers, they first began to make oblations of themselves
to the Gods, not only consecrating to the divinities whatever among
their possessions was most beautiful, but, proceeding beyond this, they
sacrificed those of their own species. Hence, even to the present time,
not only in Arcadia, in the Lupercal festivals, and in Carthage, men are
sacrificed in common to Saturn, but periodically, also, for the sake of
remembering the legal institute, they sprinkle the altars of those of the
same tribe with blood, although the rites of their sacrifices exclude, by
the voice of the crier, him from engaging in them who is accused of human
slaughter. Proceeding therefore from hence, they made the bodies of other
animals supply the place of their own in sacrifices, and again, through
a satiety of legitimate nutriment, becoming oblivious of piety, they
were induced by voracity to leave nothing untasted, nothing undevoured.
And this is what now happens to all men with respect to the aliment from
fruits. For when, by the assumption of them, they have alleviated their
necessary indigence, then searching for a superfluity of satiety, they
labour to procure many things for food which are placed beyond the limits
of temperance. Hence, as if they had made no ignoble sacrifices to the
Gods, they proceeded also to taste the animals which they immolated;
and from this, as a principle of the deed, the eating of animals became
an addition to men to the nutriment derived from fruits. As, therefore,
antiquity offered the first produce of fruits to the Gods, and gladly,
after their pious sacrifice, tasted what they offered, thus also, when
they sacrificed the firstlings of animals to the divinities, they thought
that the same thing ought to be done by them, though ancient piety did
not ordain these particulars after this manner, but venerated each of the
Gods from fruits. For with such oblations, both nature, and every sense
of the human soul, are delighted.

    No altar then was wet with blood of bulls
    Irrationally slain; but this was thought
    To be of every impious deed the worst,
    Limbs to devour of brutes deprived of life.

28. The truth of this may also be perceived from the altar which is even
now preserved about Delos, which, because no animal is brought to, or
is sacrificed upon it, is called the altar of the pious. So that the
inhabitants not only abstain from sacrificing animals, but they likewise
conceive, that those who established, are similarly pious with those
who use the altar. Hence, the Pythagoreans having adopted this mode of
sacrifice, abstained from animal food through the whole of life. But when
they distributed to the Gods a certain animal instead of themselves,
they merely tasted of it, living in reality without touching other
animals. We, however, do not act after this manner; but being filled with
animal diet, we have arrived at this manifold illegality in our life by
slaughtering animals, and using them for food. For neither is it proper
that the altars of the Gods should be defiled with murder, nor that
food of this kind should be touched by men, as neither is it fit that
men should eat one another; but the precept which is still preserved at
Athens, should be obeyed through the whole of life.

29. For formerly, as we have before observed, when men sacrificed to the
Gods fruits and not animals, and did not assume the latter for food,
it is said, that a common sacrifice being celebrated at Athens, one
Diomus, or Sopater, who was not a native, but cultivated some land in
Attica, seizing a sharp axe which was near to him, and being excessively
indignant, struck with it an ox, who, coming from his labour, approached
to a table, on which were openly placed cakes and other offerings which
were to be burnt as a sacrifice to the Gods, and ate some, but trampled
on the rest of the offerings. The ox, therefore, being killed, Diomus,
whose anger was now appeased, at the same time perceived what kind of
deed he had perpetrated. And the ox, indeed, he buried. But embracing
a voluntary banishment, as if he had been accused of impiety, he fled
to Crete. A great dryness, however, taking place in the Attic land from
vehement heat, and a dreadful sterility of fruit, and the Pythian deity
being in consequence of it consulted by the general consent, the God
answered, that the Cretan exile must expiate the crime; and that, if the
murderer was punished, and the statue of the slain ox was erected in
the place in which it fell, this would be beneficial both to those who
had and those who had not tasted its flesh. An inquiry therefore being
made into the affair, and Sopater, together with the deed, having been
discovered, he, thinking that he should be liberated from the difficulty
in which he was now involved, through the accusation of impiety, if the
same thing was done by all men in common, said to those who came to him,
that it was necessary an ox should be slain by the city. But, on their
being dubious who should strike the ox, he said that he would undertake
to do it, if they would make him a citizen, and would be partakers with
him of the slaughter. This, therefore, being granted, they returned to
the city, and ordered the deed to be accomplished in such a way as it is
performed by them at present, [and which was as follows:]

30. They selected virgins who were drawers of water; but these brought
water for the purpose of sharpening an axe and a knife. And these being
sharpened, one person gave the axe, another struck with it the ox,
and a third person cut the throat of the ox. But after this, having
excoriated the animal, all that were present ate of its flesh. These
things therefore being performed, they sewed up the hide of the ox, and
having stuffed it with straw, raised it upright in the same form which
it had when alive, and yoked it to a plough, as if it was about to work
with it. Instituting also a judicial process, respecting the slaughter of
the ox, they cited all those who were partakers of the deed, to defend
their conduct. But as the drawers of water accused those who sharpened
the axe and the knife, as more culpable than themselves, and those who
sharpened these instruments accused him who gave the axe, and he accused
him who cut the throat of the ox, and this last person accused the
knife,—hence, as the knife could not speak, they condemned it as the
cause of the slaughter. From that time also, even till now, during the
festival sacred to Jupiter, in the Acropolis, at Athens, the sacrifice of
an ox is performed after the same manner. For, placing cakes on a brazen
table, they drive oxen round it, and the ox that tastes of the cakes
that are distributed on the table, is slain. The race likewise of those
who perform this, still remains. And all those, indeed, who derive their
origin from Sopater are called _boutupoi_ [i.e. _slayers of oxen_];
but those who are descended from him that drove the ox round the table,
are called _kentriadai_, [or _stimulators_.] And those who originate
from him that cut the throat of the ox, are denominated _daitroi_,
[or _dividers_,] on account of the banquet which takes place from the
distribution of flesh. But when they have filled the hide, and the
judicial process is ended, they throw the knife into the sea.

31. Hence, neither did the ancients conceive it to be holy to slay
animals that co-operated with us in works beneficial to our life, and we
should avoid doing this even now. And as formerly it was not pious for
men to injure these animals, so now it should be considered as unholy
to slay them for the sake of food. If, however, this is to be done
from motives of religious reverence of the Gods, yet every passion or
affection which is essentially produced from bodies is to be rejected,
in order that we may not procure food from improper substances, and thus
have an incentive to violence as the intimate associate of our life. For
by such a rejection we shall, at least, all of us derive great benefit
in what pertains to our mutual security, if we do not in any thing else.
For those whose sense is averse to the destruction of animals of a
species different from their own, will evidently abstain from injuring
those of their own kind. Hence it would perhaps have been best, if
men in after-times had immediately abstained from slaughtering these
animals; but since no one is free from error, it remains for posterity
to take away by purifications the crime of their ancestors, respecting
nutriment. This, however, will be effected, if, placing before our eyes
the dire nature of such conduct, we exclaim with Empedocles:

    Ah me, while yet exempt from such a crime,
    Why was I not destroyed by cruel Time,
    Before these lips began the guilty deed,
    On the dire nutriment of flesh to feed?

For in those only the appropriate sense sympathetically grieves for
errors that have been committed, who endeavour to find a remedy for the
evils with which they are afflicted; so that every one, by offering pure
and holy sacrifices to divinity, may through sanctity obtain the greatest
benefits from the Gods.

32. But the benefit derived from fruits is the first and the greatest
of all others, and which, as soon as they are matured, should alone be
offered to the Gods, and to Earth, by whom they are produced. For she
is the common Vesta of Gods and men; and it is requisite that all of
us, reclining on her surface, as on the bosom of our mother and nurse,
should celebrate her divinity, and love her with a parental affection,
as the source of our existence. For thus, when we exchange this life for
another, we shall again be thought worthy of a residence in the heavens,
and of associating with all the celestial Gods, whom, now beholding[52],
we ought to venerate with those fruits of which they are the causes,
sacrificing indeed to them from all these, when they have arrived at
maturity, but not conceiving all of us to be sufficiently worthy to
sacrifice to the Gods. For as all things are not to be sacrificed to
the Gods, so neither perhaps are the Gods gratified by the sacrifice of
every one. This, therefore, is the substance of the arguments adduced by
Theophrastus, to show that animals ought not to be sacrificed; exclusive
of the interspersed fabulous narrations, and a few things which we have
added to what he has said.

33. I, however, shall not attempt to dissolve the legal institutes which
the several nations have established. For it is not my design at present
to speak about a polity. But as the laws by which we are governed permit
us to venerate divinity by things of the most simple, and of an inanimate
nature, hence, selecting that which is the least costly, let us sacrifice
according to the law of the city, and endeavour to offer an appropriate
sacrifice, approaching with consummate purity to the Gods. In short, if
the oblation of first-fruits is of any value, and is an acknowledgment of
thanks for the benefits which we receive, it will be most irrational to
abstain ourselves from animals, and yet offer the first-fruits of these
to the Gods. For neither are the Gods worse than we are, so as to be in
want of those things of which we are not indigent, nor is it holy to
offer the first-fruits of that nutriment from which we ourselves abstain.
For we find it is usual with men, that, when they refrain from animal
food, they do not make oblations of animals; but that they offer to the
Gods the first-fruits of what they themselves eat. Hence also it is now
fit, that he who abstains from animals should offer the first-fruits of
things which he touches [for the purpose of food].

34. Let us therefore also sacrifice, but let us sacrifice in such a
manner as is fit, offering different sacrifices to different powers[53];
to the God indeed who is above all things, as a certain wise man said,
neither sacrificing with incense, nor consecrating any thing sensible.
For there is nothing material, which is not immediately impure to an
immaterial nature. Hence, neither is vocal language, nor internal speech,
adapted to the highest God, when it is defiled by any passion of the
soul; but we should venerate him in profound silence with a pure soul,
and with pure conceptions about him. It is necessary, therefore, that
being conjoined with and assimilated to him, we should offer to him,
as a sacred sacrifice, the elevation of our intellect, which offering
will be both a hymn and our salvation. In an impassive contemplation,
therefore, of this divinity by the soul, the sacrifice to him is effected
in perfection; but to his progeny, the intelligible Gods, hymns,
orally enunciated, are to be offered. For to each of the divinities,
a sacrifice is to be made of the first-fruits of the things which he
bestows, and through which he nourishes and preserves us. As, therefore,
the husbandman offers handfuls of the fruits and berries which the
season first produces; thus also we should offer to the divinities the
first-fruits of our conceptions of their transcendent excellence, giving
them thanks for the contemplation which they impart to us, and for truly
nourishing us through the vision of themselves, which they afford us,
associating with, appearing to, and shining upon us, for our salvation.

35. Now, however, many of those who apply themselves to philosophy
are unwilling to do this; and, pursuing renown rather than honouring
divinity, they are busily employed about statues, neither considering
whether they are to be reverenced or not, nor endeavouring to learn from
those who are divinely wise, to what extent, and to what degree, it is
requisite to proceed in this affair. We, however, shall by no means
contend with these, nor are we very desirous of being well instructed in
a thing of this kind; but imitating holy and ancient men, we offer to the
Gods, more than any thing else, the first-fruits of contemplation, which
they have imparted to us, and by the use of which we become partakers of
true salvation.

36. The Pythagoreans, therefore, diligently applying themselves to the
study of numbers and lines, sacrificed for the most part from these to
the Gods, denominating, indeed, a certain number Minerva, but another
Diana, and another Apollo: and again, they called one number justice, but
another temperance[54]. In diagrams also they adopted a similar mode. And
thus, by offerings of this kind, they rendered the Gods propitious to
them, so as to obtain of them the object of their wishes, by the things
which they dedicated to, and the names by which they invoked them. They
likewise frequently employed their aid in divination, and if they were in
want of a certain thing for the purpose of some investigation. In order,
therefore, to effect this, they made use of the Gods within the heavens,
both the erratic and non-erratic, of all of whom it is requisite to
consider the sun as the leader; but to rank the moon in the second place;
and we should conjoin with these fire, in the third place, from its
alliance to them, as the theologist[55] says. He also says that no animal
is to be sacrificed; but that first-fruits are to be offered from meal
and honey, and the vegetable productions of the earth. He adds, that fire
is not to be enkindled on a hearth defiled with gore; and asserts other
things of the like kind. For what occasion is there to transcribe all
that he says? for he who is studious of piety knows, indeed, that to the
Gods no animal is to be sacrificed, but that a sacrifice of this kind
pertains to dæmons, and other powers, whether they are beneficent, or
depraved[56]. He likewise knows who those are that ought to sacrifice to
these, and to what extent they ought to proceed in the sacrifices which
they make. Other things, however, will be passed over by me in silence.
But what some Platonists have divulged, I shall lay before the reader, in
order that the things proposed to be discussed, may become manifest to
the intelligent. What they have unfolded, therefore, is as follows:

37. The first God being incorporeal, immoveable, and impartible, and
neither subsisting in any thing, nor restrained in his energies, is not,
as has been before observed, in want of any thing external to himself, as
neither is the soul of the world; but this latter, containing in itself
the principle of that which is triply divisible, and being naturally
self-motive, is adapted to be moved in a beautiful and orderly manner,
and also to move the body of the world according to the most excellent
reasons [i.e. productive principles or powers]. It is, however,
connected with and comprehends body, though it is itself incorporeal,
and liberated from the participation of any passion. To the remaining
Gods, therefore, to the world, to the inerratic and erratic stars, who
are visible Gods, consisting of soul and body, thanks are to be returned
after the above-mentioned manner, through sacrifices from inanimate
natures. The multitude, therefore, of those invisible beings remains for
us, whom Plato indiscriminately calls dæmons[57]; but of these, some
being denominated by men, obtain from them honours, and other religious
observances, similar to those which are paid to the Gods; but others,
who for the most part are not explicitly denominated, receive an occult
religious reverence and appellation from certain persons in villages
and certain cities; and the remaining multitude is called in common by
the name of dæmons. The general persuasion, however, respecting all
these invisible beings, is this, that if they become angry through being
neglected, and deprived of the religious reverence which is due to them,
they are noxious to those by whom they are thus neglected, and that they
again become beneficent, if they are appeased by prayers, supplications,
and sacrifices, and other similar rites.

38. But the confused notion which is formed of these beings, and which
has proceeded to great crimination, necessarily requires that the nature
of them should be distinguished according to reason. For perhaps it will
be said, that it is requisite to show whence the error concerning them
originated among men. The distinction, therefore, must be made after the
following manner. Such souls as are the progeny of the whole soul of the
universe, and who govern the great parts of the region under the moon,
these, being incumbent on a pneumatic substance or spirit, and ruling
over it conformably to reason, are to be considered as good dæmons, who
are diligently employed in causing every thing to be beneficial to the
subjects of their government, whether they preside over certain animals,
or fruits, which are arranged under their inspective care, or over things
which subsist for the sake of these, such as showers of rain, moderate
winds, serene weather, and other things which cooperate with these,
such as the good temperament of the seasons of the year. They are also
our leaders in the attainment of music, and the whole of erudition, and
likewise of medicine and gymnastic, and of every thing else similar to
these. For it is impossible that these dæmons should impart utility, and
yet become, in the very same things, the causes of what is detrimental.
Among these two, those _transporters_, as Plato calls them, [in his
Banquet] are to be enumerated, who announce the affairs of men to the
Gods, and the will of the Gods to men; carrying our prayers, indeed,
to the Gods as judges, but oracularly unfolding to us the exhortations
and admonitions of the Gods. But such souls as do not rule over the
pneumatic substance with which they are connected, but for the most
part are vanquished by it; these are vehemently agitated and borne along
[in a disorderly manner,] when the irascible motions and the desires of
the pneumatic substance, receive an impetus. These souls, therefore, are
indeed dæmons, but are deservedly called malefic dæmons.

39. All these beings, likewise, and those who possess a contrary power,
are invisible, and perfectly imperceptible by human senses; for they
are not surrounded with a solid body, nor are all of them of one form,
but they are fashioned in numerous figures. The forms, however, which
characterize their pneumatic substance, at one time become apparent, but
at another are invisible. Sometimes also those that are malefic, change
their forms; but the pneumatic substance, so far as it is corporeal, is
passive and corruptible: and though, because it is thus bound by the
souls [that are incumbent on it,] the form of it remains for a long time,
yet it is not eternal. For it is probable that something continually
flows from it, and also that it is nourished. The pneumatic substance,
therefore, of good dæmons, possesses symmetry, in the same manner as
the bodies of the visible Gods; but the spirit of malefic dæmons is
deprived of symmetry, and in consequence of its abounding in passivity,
they are distributed about the terrestrial region. Hence, there is no
evil which they do not attempt to effect; for, in short, being violent
and fraudulent in their manners, and being also deprived of the guardian
care of more excellent dæmons, they make, for the most part, vehement
and sudden attacks; sometimes endeavouring to conceal their incursions,
but at other times assaulting openly. Hence the molestations which are
produced by them are rapid; but the remedies and corrections which
proceed from more excellent dæmons, appear to be more slowly effected:
for every thing which is good being tractable and equable, proceeds in
an orderly manner, and does not pass beyond what is fit. By forming this
opinion, therefore, you will never fall into that most absurd notion,
that evil may be expected from the good, or good from the evil. For this
notion is not only attended with absurdity, but the multitude, receiving
through it the most erroneous conceptions of the Gods, disseminate them
among the rest of mankind.

40. It must be admitted, therefore, that one of the greatest injuries
occasioned by malefic dæmons is this, that though they are the causes
of the calamities which take place about the earth, such as pestilence,
sterility, earthquakes, excessive dryness, and the like, yet they
endeavour to persuade us, that they are the causes of things the most
contrary to these, viz. of fertility, [salubrity, and elementary peace.]
Hence, they exonerate themselves from blame, and, in the first place,
endeavour to avoid being detected as the sources of injury; and, in
the next place, they convert us to supplications and sacrifices to the
beneficent Gods, as if they were angry. But they effect these, and things
of a similar nature, in consequence of wishing to turn us from right
conceptions of the Gods, and convert us to themselves; for they are
delighted with all such as act thus incongruously and discordantly, and,
as it were, assuming the persons of other Gods, they enjoy the effects of
our imprudence and folly; conciliating to themselves the good opinion of
the vulgar, by inflaming the minds of men with the love of riches, power,
and pleasure, and filling them with the desire of vain glory, from which
sedition, and war, and other things allied to these, are produced. But
that which is the most dire of all things, they proceed still farther,
and persuade men that similar things are effected by the greatest
Gods, and do not stop till they even subject the most excellent of the
divinities to these calumnies, through whom they say every thing is in
perfect confusion. And not only the vulgar are affected in this manner,
but not a few also of those who are conversant with philosophy. The cause
of this, however, extends equally to philosophers, and the vulgar; for
of philosophers, those who do not depart from the prevailing notions,
fall into the same error with the multitude; and again, the multitude, on
hearing assertions from celebrated men conformable to their own opinions,
are in a greater degree corroborated in conceiving things of this kind of
the Gods.

41. For poetry also inflames the opinions of men, by employing a diction
adapted to produce astonishment and enchantment, and not only allures
the ears, but is also capable of procuring belief in things that are
most impossible. At the same time, however, it is requisite to be firmly
persuaded, that what is good can never injure, nor what is evil can ever
be beneficial; for, as Plato says, it is not the province of heat to
refrigerate, but of that which is contrary to heat; and, in like manner,
neither is it the province of that which is just to injure. But divinity
is naturally the most just of all things; since otherwise he would not
be divinity. Hence this power and portion of good is not to be abscinded
from beneficent dæmons; for the power which is naturally adapted, and
wishes to injure, is contrary to the power which is beneficent: but
contraries can never subsist about the same thing. As malefic dæmons,
therefore, injure the mortal race in many respects, and sometimes in
things of the greatest consequence, good dæmons not only never cease
to act conformably to their office, but also, as much as possible,
presignify to us the dangers which are impendent from malefic dæmons,
unfolding these through dreams, through a divinely inspired soul, and
through many other things; so that he who is capable of explaining
what is signified, may know and avoid all the perils with which he is
threatened. For they indicate [future events] to all men, but every one
cannot understand what they indicate, nor is every one able to read what
is written by them; but he alone is able to do this, who has learnt their
letters. All enchantment, however, [or witchcraft,] is effected through
dæmons of a contrary nature; for those who perpetrate evil through
enchantments, especially venerate these malefic beings, and the power
that presides over them.

42. For they are full of every kind of imagination, and are sufficiently
qualified to deceive, through effects of a prodigious nature; and through
these, unhappy men procure philtres, and amatory allurements. For all
intemperance, and hope of possessing wealth and renown, and especially
deception, exist through these, since falsehood is allied to these
malevolent beings; _for they wish to be considered as Gods, and the power
which presides over them is ambitious to appear to be the greatest God_.
These are they that rejoice in libations, and the savour of sacrifices,
through which their pneumatic vehicle is fattened; for this vehicle lives
through vapours and exhalations, and the life of it is various through
various exhalations. It is likewise corroborated by the savour of blood
and flesh.

43. On this account, a wise and temperate man will be religiously afraid
to use sacrifices of this kind, through which he will attract to himself
such-like dæmons; but he will endeavour in all possible ways to purify
his soul. For these malefic beings do not attack a pure soul, because
it is dissimilar to them; but if it is necessary to cities to render
them propitious, this is nothing to us. For by these riches, and things
external and corporeal, are thought to be good, and their contraries
evil; but the smallest attention is paid by them to the good of the soul.
We however, to the utmost of our ability, endeavour not to be in want
of those things which they impart; but all our endeavour is to become
similar to God, and to the [divine] powers with which he is surrounded
both from what pertains to the soul, and from externals; _and this is
effected through an entire liberation from the dominion of the passions,
an evolved perception of truly existing beings, and a vital tendency
towards them_. On the other hand, we strive to become dissimilar to
depraved men and evil dæmons, and, in short, to every being that rejoices
in a mortal and material nature. So that, conformably to what is said by
Theophrastus, we also shall sacrifice from those things which theologists
permit us to use for this purpose; as well knowing, that by how much the
more we neglect to exempt ourselves from the passions of the soul, by so
much the more we connect ourselves with a depraved power, and render it
necessary that he should become propitious to us. For, as theologists
say, it is necessary that those who are bound[58] to things external, and
have not yet vanquished their passions, should avert the anger of this
[malefic] power; since, if they do not, there will be no end to their
labours.

44. Thus far what pertains to sacrifices has been elucidated. As we said,
however, at first, as it is not entirely necessary, if animals are to be
sacrificed, that they are also to be eaten, we shall now show that it is
necessary we should not eat them, though it may be sometimes necessary
that they should be sacrificed. For all theologists agree in this, that
in sacrifices, which are made for the purpose of averting some evil, the
immolated animals are not to be tasted, but are to be used as expiations.
For, say they, no one should go into the city, nor into his own house,
till he has first purified his garments, and his body, in rivers, or some
fountain. So that they order those whom they permit to sacrifice, to
abstain from the victims, and to purify themselves before they sacrifice
by fasting, and especially by abstaining from animals. They add, _that
purity is the guardian of piety; and is, as it were, a symbol or divine
seal, which secures its possessor from the attacks and allurements of
evil dæmons_. For such a one, being contrarily disposed to, and more
divine in his operations than those by whom he is attacked, because he
is more pure both in his body and in the passions of his soul, remains
uninjured, in consequence of being surrounded with purity as with a
bulwark.

45. Hence a defence of this kind has appeared to be necessary even to
enchanters; though it is not efficacious with them on all occasions.
For they invoke evil dæmons for lascivious purposes. So that purity
does not belong to enchanters, but to divine men, and such as are
divinely wise; since it every where becomes a guard to those that use
it, and conciliates them with a divine nature. I wish, therefore, that
enchanters would make use of purity continually, for then they would not
employ themselves in incantations, because, through this, they would be
deprived of the enjoyment of those things, for the sake of which they act
impiously. Whence becoming full of passions, and abstaining for a short
time from impure food, they are notwithstanding replete with impurity,
and suffer the punishment of their illegal conduct towards the whole of
things, partly from those whom they irritate, and partly from Justice,
who perceives all mortal deeds and conceptions. Both inward, therefore,
and external purity pertain to a divine man, who earnestly endeavours to
be liberated from the passions of the soul, and who abstains from such
food as excites the passions, and is fed with divine wisdom; and by right
conceptions of, is assimilated to divinity himself. For such a man, being
consecrated by an intellectual sacrifice, approaches to God in a white
garment, and with a truly pure _impassivity_ of soul, and levity of body,
and is not burdened with foreign and external juices, and the passions of
the soul.

46. For, indeed, it must not be admitted as necessary in temples, which
are consecrated by men to the Gods, that those who enter into them should
have their feet pure, and their shoes free from every stain, but that in
the temple of the father [of all], which is this world, it is not proper
to preserve our ultimate and cutaneous vestment pure, and to dwell in
this temple with an undefiled garment. For if the danger consisted only
in the defilement of the body, it might, perhaps, be lawful to neglect
it. But now, since every sensible body is attended with an efflux of
material dæmons, hence, together with the impurity produced from flesh
and blood, the power which is friendly to, and familiar with, this
impurity, is at the same time present through similitude and alliance.

47. Hence theologists have rightly paid attention to abstinence. And
these things were indicated to us by a certain Egyptian[59], who also
assigned a most natural cause of them, which was verified by experience.
For, since a depraved and irrational soul, when it leaves the body, is
still compelled to adhere to it, since the souls also of those men who
die by violence, are detained about the body; this circumstance should
prevent a man from forcibly expelling his soul from the body. The violent
slaughter, therefore, of animals, compels souls to be delighted with the
bodies which they have left, but the soul is by no means prevented from
being there, where it is attracted by a kindred nature; whence many souls
are seen to lament, and some remain about the bodies that are unburied;
which souls are improperly used by enchanters, as subservient to their
designs, being compelled by them to occupy the body, or a part of the
body, which they have left. Since, therefore, these things were well
known to theologists, and they also perceived the nature of a depraved
soul, and its alliance to the bodies from which it was divulsed, and the
pleasure which it received from a union with them, they very properly
avoided animal food, in order that they might not be disturbed by alien
souls, violently separated from the body and impure, and which are
attracted to things of a kindred nature, and likewise that they might
not be impeded by the presence of evil dæmons, in approaching alone [or
without being burdened with things of a foreign nature] to the highest
God[60].

48. For that the nature of a kindred body is attractive of soul,
experience abundantly taught these theologists. Hence those who wish to
receive into themselves the souls of prophetic animals, swallow the most
principal parts of them, such as the hearts of crows, or of moles, or of
hawks. For thus they have soul present with, and predicting to them like
a God, and entering into them together with the intromission of the body.

49. Very properly, therefore, will the philosopher, and who is also the
priest of the God that is above all things, abstain from all animal food,
in consequence of earnestly endeavouring to approach through himself
alone to the alone[61] God, without being disturbed by any attendants.
Such a one likewise is cautious, as being well acquainted with the
necessities of nature. For he who is truly a philosopher, is skilled
in, and an observer of many things, understands the works of nature, is
sagacious, temperate and modest, and is in every respect the saviour
of himself. And as he who is the priest of a certain particular God,
is skilled in placing the statues of that divinity, and in his orgies,
mysteries, and the like, thus also he who is the priest of the highest
God, is skilled in the manner in which his statue ought to be fashioned,
and in purifications, and other things through which he is conjoined to
this divinity.

50. But if in the sacred rites which are here, those that are priests and
diviners order both themselves and others to abstain from sepulchres,
from impious men, from menstrual purgations, and from venereal congress,
and likewise from base and mournful spectacles, and from those auditions
which excite the passions, (because frequently, through those that are
present being impure, something appears which disturbs the diviner; on
which account it is said, that to sacrifice inopportunely, is attended
with greater detriment than gain);—if this, therefore, is the case,
will he, who is the priest of the father of all things, suffer himself
to become the sepulchre of dead bodies? And will such a one, being full
of defilement, endeavour to associate with the transcendent God? It is
sufficient, indeed, that in fruits we assume parts of death, for the
support of our present life. This, however, is not yet the place for such
a discussion. We must, therefore, still farther investigate what pertains
to sacrifices.

51. For some one may say that we shall subvert a great part of
divination, viz. that which is effected through an inspection of the
viscera, if we abstain from destroying animals. He, therefore, who makes
this objection, should also destroy men: for it is said that future
events are more apparent in the viscera of men than in those of brutes;
and many of the Barbarians exercise the art of divination through
the entrails of men. As, however, it would be an indication of great
injustice, and inexhaustible avidity, to destroy those of our own species
for the sake of divination, thus also it is unjust for the sake of this
to slay an irrational animal. But it does not belong to the present
discussion to investigate whether Gods, or dæmons, or soul liberated from
the animal [with which it had been connected], exhibit signs of future
events to those who explore such signs, through the indications which the
viscera afford.

52. Nevertheless, we permit those whose life is rolled about externals,
having once acted impiously towards themselves, to be borne along to that
to which they tend; but we rightly say, that the man whom we designate as
a philosopher, and who is separated from externals, will not be disturbed
by dæmons, nor be in want of diviners, nor of the viscera of animals.
For he earnestly endeavours to be separated from those things for the
sake of which divinations are effected. For he does not betake himself
to nuptials, in order that he may molest the diviner about wedlock, or
merchandise, or inquiries about a servant, or an increase of property, or
any other object of vulgar pursuit. For the subjects of his investigation
are not clearly indicated by any diviner or viscera of animals. But
he, as we have said, approaching through himself to the [supreme] God,
who is established in the true inward parts of himself, receives from
thence the precepts of eternal life, tending thither by a conflux of the
whole of himself, and instead of a diviner praying that he may become a
confabulator of the mighty Jupiter.

53. For if such a one is impelled by some necessary circumstance, there
are good dæmons, who, to the man living after this manner, and who is
a domestic of divinity, will indicate and prevent, through dreams and
symbols, and omens, what may come to pass, and what is necessarily to be
avoided. For it is only requisite to depart from evil, and to know what
is most honourable in the whole of things, and every thing which in the
universe is good, friendly, and familiar. But vice, and an ignorance
of divine concerns, are dire, through which a man is led to despise
and defame things of which he has no knowledge; since nature does not
proclaim these particulars with a voice which can be heard by the ears,
but being herself intellectual[62], she initiates through intellect
those who venerate her. And even though some one should admit the art of
divination for the sake of predicting what is future, yet it does not
from thence necessarily follow that the flesh of animals is to be eaten;
as neither does it follow, that because it is proper to sacrifice to Gods
or dæmons, food from animals is therefore to be introduced. For, not
only the history which is related by Theophrastus, but also many other
narrations inform us, that in ancient times men were sacrificed, yet it
must not be inferred that on this account men are to be eaten.

54. And that we do not carelessly assert these things, but that what we
have said is abundantly confirmed by history, the following narrations
sufficiently testify. For in Rhodes, on the sixth day of June, a man
was sacrificed to Saturn; which custom having prevailed for a long
time, was afterwards changed [into a more human mode of sacrificing].
For one of those men who, by the public decision, had been sentenced to
death, was kept in prison till the Saturnalia commenced; but as soon as
this festival began, they brought the man out of the gates of the city,
opposite to the temple of Aristobulus, and giving him wine to drink,
they cut his throat. But in the island which is now called Salamis,
but was formerly denominated Coronis, in the month according to the
Cyprians Aphrodisius, a man was sacrificed to Agraule, the daughter of
Cecrops, and the nymph Agraulis. And this custom continued till the time
of Diomed. Afterwards it was changed, so that a man was sacrificed
to Diomed. But the temples of Minerva, of Agraule, and Diomed, were
contained in one and the same enclosure. The man also who was about to be
slain, was first led by young men thrice round the altar, afterwards the
priest pierced him with a lance in the stomach, and thus being thrown on
the pyre, he was entirely consumed.

55. This sacred institute was, however, abolished by Diphilus, the king
of Cyprus, who flourished about the time of Seleucus, the theologist.
But Dæmon substituted an ox for a man; thus causing the latter sacrifice
to be of equal worth with the former. Amosis also abolished the law of
sacrificing men in the Egyptian city Heliopolis; the truth of which is
testified by Manetho in his treatise on Antiquity and Piety. But the
sacrifice was made to Juno, and an investigation took place, as if they
were endeavouring to find pure calves, and such as were marked by the
impression of a seal. Three men also were sacrificed on the day appointed
for this purpose, in the place of whom Amosis ordered them to substitute
three waxen images. In Chios likewise, they sacrificed a man to Omadius
Bacchus[63], the man being for this purpose torn in pieces; and the same
custom, as Euelpis Carystius says, was adopted in Tenedos. To which may
be added, that the Lacedæmonians, as Apollodorus says, sacrificed a man
to Mars.

56. Moreover the Phœnicians, in great calamities, either of war, or
excessive dryness, or pestilence, sacrificed some one of their dearest
friends, who was selected by votes for this purpose. The Phœnician
history also is replete with instances of men being sacrificed, which
history was written by Sanchoniatho in the Phœnician tongue, and was
interpreted into Greek in eight books, by Philo Byblius. But Ister, in
his collection of the Cretan sacrifices, says that the Curetes formerly
sacrificed children to Saturn. And Pallas, who is the best of those
that have collected what pertains to the mysteries of Mithras, says,
that under the Emperor Adrian the sacrificing of men was nearly totally
abolished. For, prior to his time, in Laodicea, which is in Syria, they
anciently sacrificed a virgin to Minerva, but now they sacrifice a stag.
The Carthaginians too, who dwell in Libya, formerly sacrificed men; but
this custom was abolished by Iphicrates. And the Dumatii, a people of
Arabia, annually sacrificed a boy, whom they buried under the altar,
which was used by them as a statue. But Phylarchus narrates, that it
was the general custom of all the Greeks, before they went to war, to
immolate men. I omit to mention the Thracians and Scythians, and also
the Athenians, who slew the daughter of Erechtheus and Praxithea. And
even at present, who is ignorant that in the great city of Rome, in the
festival of Jupiter Latialis, they cut the throat of a man? Human flesh,
however, is not on this account to be eaten; though, through a certain
necessity, a man should be sacrificed. For, when a famine takes place
during a siege, some of the besieged feed on each other, yet at the same
time those who do so are deemed execrable, and the deed is thought to be
impious.

57. After the first war, likewise, waged by the Romans against the
Carthaginians, in order to obtain Sicily, when the mercenary soldiers
of the Phœnicians revolted, and, together with them, those of Africa
deserted, Amilcar, who was surnamed Barkas, in attacking the Romans, was
reduced to such a scarcity of food, that at first his men ate those
that fell in battle; but afterwards, these failing, they ate their
captives; in the third place, their servants; and in the last place, they
attacked each other, and devoured their fellow-soldiers, who were led to
be slaughtered for this purpose by lot. But Amilcar, taking those men
that were in his power, caused his elephants to trample on such of the
soldiers as had acted in this manner, conceiving that it was not holy
to suffer them to be any longer mingled with other men; and neither did
he admit that men should be eaten because certain persons had dared to
do this; nor his son Hannibal, who, when he was leading his army into
Italy, was advised by a certain person to accustom his troops to feed on
human flesh, in order that they might never be in want of food. It does
not follow, therefore, that because famine and war have been the causes
of eating other animals, it is also requisite to feed on them for the
sake of pleasure; as neither must we admit, that on this account men are
to be eaten. Nor does it follow, that because animals are sacrificed to
certain powers, it is also requisite to eat them. For neither do those
who sacrifice men, on this account, feed on human flesh. Through what
has been said, therefore, it is demonstrated, that it does not entirely
follow that animals are to be eaten because they are sacrificed.

58. But that those who had learnt what the nature is of the powers in the
universe, offered sacrifices through blood, not to Gods, but to dæmons,
is confirmed by theologists themselves. For they also assert, that of
dæmons, some are malefic, but others beneficent, who will not molest us,
if we offer to them the first-fruits of those things alone which we eat,
and by which we nourish either the soul or the body. After, therefore, we
have added a few observations more, in order to show that the unperverted
conceptions of the multitude accord with a right opinion respecting the
Gods, we shall conclude this book. Those poets, therefore, who are wise,
though but in a small degree, say,

    What man so credulous and void of mind,
    What man so ignorant, as to think the Gods
    In fiery bile and fleshless bones rejoice,
    For hungry dogs a nutriment not fit;
    Or that such offerers they will e’er reward?

But another poet says,

    My offerings to the Gods from cakes alone
    And frankincense shall be; for not to friends
    But deities my sacrifice I make.

59. Apollo also, when he orders men to sacrifice according to paternal
institutes, appears to refer every thing to ancient custom. But the
ancient custom of sacrificing was, as we have before shown, with cakes
and fruits. Hence also, sacrifices were called θυσιαι, _thusiai_, and
θυηλαι, _thuelai_, and θυμελαι, _thumelai_, and αυτο το θυειν, _auto to
thuein_, i.e. _the act of sacrificing_, signified the same thing as του
θυμιᾳν, _tou thumian_, i.e. _to offer incense_, and which is now called
by us, επιθυειν, _epithuein_, i.e. _to sacrifice something more_. For
what we now call θυειν, _thuein_, _i.e. to sacrifice_, the ancients
denominated ερδειν, _erdein_, i.e. _to perform_ or _make_.

    They perfect hecatombs of bulls, or goats,
    _Made_ to Apollo.

60. But those who introduced costliness into sacrifices, were ignorant
that, in conjunction with this, they also introduced a swarm of evils,
viz. superstition, luxury, an opinion that a divine nature may be
corrupted by gifts, and that a compensation may be made by sacrifices
for injustice. Or whence do some make an oblation of three animals with
gilded horns, but others of hecatombs? And whence did Olympias, the
mother of Alexander [the Great,] sacrifice a thousand of each species of
animals, unless sumptuousness had at length proceeded to superstition?
But when the young man was informed that the Gods rejoiced in magnificent
sacrifices, and, as they say, in solemn banquets of oxen and other
animals, how, though he was willing to act wisely, was it possible
that he could? How also, when he conceived that these sacrifices were
acceptable to the Gods, was it possible he should not fancy that he was
permitted to act unjustly, when he might exonerate himself from erroneous
conduct through sacrifices? But if he had been persuaded that the Gods
have no need of these things, and that they look to the manners of those
who approach to them, _and conceive that a right opinion of them, and of
things themselves, is the greatest sacrifice_, how is it possible that he
should not have been temperate, holy, and just?

61. To the Gods, indeed, the most excellent offering is a pure intellect
and an impassive soul, and also a moderate oblation of our own property
and of other things, and this not negligently, but with the greatest
alacrity. For the honours which we pay to the Gods should be accompanied
by the same promptitude as that with which we give the first seat to
worthy men, and with which we rise to, and salute them, and not by the
promptitude with which we pay a tribute. For man must not use such
language as the following to God:

    If, O Philinus, you recal to mind,
    And love me for, the benefits which I
    On you conferr’d, ’tis well, since for the sake
    Of these alone my bounty was bestow’d.

For divinity is not satisfied with such assertions as these. And hence
Plato says [in his Laws], that it pertains to a good man to sacrifice,
and to be always conversant with the Gods by prayers, votive offerings,
sacrifices, and every kind of religious worship; but that to the bad
man, much labour about the Gods is inefficacious and vain. For the good
man knows what ought to be sacrificed, and from what it is requisite to
abstain; what things are to be offered to divinity, and of what the
first-fruits are to be sacrificed; but the bad man exhibiting honours to
the Gods from his own disposition and his own pursuits, acts in so doing
more impiously than piously. Hence Plato thought, that a philosopher
ought not to be conversant with men of depraved habits; for this is
neither pleasing to the Gods, nor useful to men; but the philosopher
should endeavour to change such men to a better condition, and if he
cannot effect this, he should be careful that he does not himself become
changed into their depravity. He adds, that having entered into the right
path, he should proceed in it, neither fearing danger from the multitude,
nor any other blasphemy which may happen to take place. For it would be
a thing of a dire nature, that the Syrians indeed will not taste fish,
nor the Hebrews swine, nor most of the Phœnicians and Egyptians cows; and
though many kings have endeavoured to change these customs, yet those
that adopt them would rather suffer death, than a transgression of the
law [which forbids them to eat these animals]; and yet that we should
choose to transgress the laws of nature and divine precepts through the
fear of men, or of a certain denunciation of evil from them. For the
divine choir of Gods, and divine men, may justly be greatly indignant
with us, if it perceives us directing our attention to the opinions
of depraved men, and idly looking to the terror with which they are
attended, though we daily meditate how we may become [philosophically]
dead to other things in the present life.


FOOTNOTES:

[40] _i.e._ The Egyptians.

[41] In the original αρασαμενους, which is derived from the verb αραομαι,
_imprecor_, _maledico_; and from hence, according to Porphyry, came the
word αρωματα.

[42] _i.e._ May be rather called _malevolent_ than _unhappy_.

[43] Fabricius is of opinion that these _Thoes_ are the same with the
Acrothoitæ, mentioned by Simplicius in his Comment. in Epictet. from
Theophrastus.

[44] In the original, η γαρ θυσια, οσια τις εστιν κατα τουνομα.

[45] In the original, και τα μεν παρατιθεναι, which Felicianus very
erroneously renders, “alius siquidem mihi ad vescendem sumo;” but
Valentinus rightly, “et horum aliqua coram illis apponere.”

[46] A round, broad, and thin cake, which was offered in sacrifice to the
Gods.

[47] Tynnichus, the Chalcidensian, is mentioned by Plato in his Io.

[48] Vid. Hesiod, Fragm. v. 169.

[49] A city of Crete.

[50] _i.e._ Under the pretext of being patronized by divinity in so
doing.

[51] Porphyry, in what he here says of the Jews, alludes to that sect of
them called Essæans; concerning whom, see the 4th book of this work.

[52] In the original, ους νυν ορωντας τιμαν τουτους, κ.τ.λ., instead
of which, Reisk proposes to read, ους νυν ουχ ορωντας τιμαν δει [vel
χρη] τουτοις, κ.τ.λ. But the insertion of ουχ is most absurd: for the
_celestial_ are called the _visible_ Gods. Thus Plato, in the Timæus, in
the speech of the Demiurgus to the junior or mundane Gods, who consist of
the _celestial_ and _sublunary_ deities, calls the _celestial Gods_ those
that _visibly_ revolve, and the _sublunary_, those that become apparent
when they please: Επει ουν παντες οσοι τε περιπολουσι φανερως, και οσοι
φαινονται καθ’ οσον αν εθελωσι θεοι, γενεσιν εσχον, κ.τ.λ. Conformably,
therefore, to the above translation, I read, ους νυν ορωντας τιμαν δει
τουτοις, κ.τ.λ. To which may be added, that our author, in paragraph 37,
expressly calls the stars _visible Gods_.

[53] In the original, Θύσομεν τοινυν και ημεις· αλλα θυσομεν, ως
προσηκει, διαφορους τας θυσιας, ως αν διαφοροις δυναμεσι προσαγοντες.
This Valentinus erroneously translates as follows: “Sacrificabimus igitur
etiam et nos, sed prout decet, victimas scilicet _eximias_ potestatibus
_eximiis_ adducentes.” For διαφορους and διαφοροις, in this passage,
evidently mean _different_, and not _excellent_.

[54] Concerning the appellations which the Pythagoreans gave to numbers,
see my Theoretic Arithmetic, in which also the occult meaning of these
appellations is unfolded.

[55] “Plotinus ni fallor, aut Plato, sed ille potius,” says Reisk;
but every one who is at all conversant with Platonic writers, will
immediately see that by _the theologist_, Porphyry means _Orpheus_.

[56] Though Porphyry excelled in all philosophical knowledge, whence
also he was called κατ’ εξοχην, _the philosopher_, yet he was inferior
to his auditor Iamblichus, in theological information. On this account,
Iamblichus was called by all the Platonists posterior to him, _the
divine_, and _the great_ priest. I shall present the reader, therefore,
with an extract from my translation of his treatise on the Mysteries,
which appears to me to be an admirable supplement to what Porphyry has
said in this book, about sacrificing animals, and a satisfactory answer
to the question whether they are to be sacrificed or not.

In Chap. 14, therefore, of Sect. 5, he observes as follows: “We shall
begin the elucidation of this subject in the best possible manner, if we
demonstrate that the sacred law of sacrifices is connected with the order
of the Gods. In the first place, therefore, we say, that of the Gods some
are material, but others immaterial. And the material, indeed, are those
that comprehend matter in themselves, and adorn it; but the immaterial
are those that are perfectly exempt from, and transcend matter: but,
according to the sacrific art, it is requisite to begin sacred operations
from the material Gods; for the ascent to the immaterial Gods will not
otherwise be effected. The material Gods, therefore, have a certain
communication with matter, so far as they preside over it. Hence they
have dominion over things which happen about matter, such as the
division, percussion, repercussion, mutation, generation, and corruption
of all material bodies. He, therefore, who wishes to worship these
theurgically, in a manner adapted to them, and to the dominion which
they are allotted, should, as they are material, employ a material mode
of worship. For thus we shall be wholly led to a familiarity with them,
and worship them in an allied and appropriate manner. _Dead bodies,
therefore, and things deprived of life, the slaying of animals, and the
consumption of victims, and, in short, the mutation of the matter which
is offered, pertain to these Gods, not by themselves, but on account
of the matter over which they preside._ For though they are, in the
most eminent degree, separate from it, yet, at the same time, they are
present with it; and, though they comprehend matter in an immaterial
power, yet they are co-existent with it. Things also that are governed,
are not foreign from their governors; and things which are subservient
as instruments, are not unadapted to those that use them. Hence it
is foreign to the immaterial Gods, to offer matter to them through
sacrifices, but this is most adapted to all the material Gods.”

In the following chapter, Iamblichus observes, “that as there is a time
when we become wholly soul, are out of the body, and sublimely revolve on
high, in conjunction with all the immaterial Gods; so, likewise, there is
a two-fold mode of worship, one of which is simple, incorporeal, and pure
from all generation; and this mode pertains to undefiled souls; but the
other is replete with every thing of a material nature, and is adapted
to souls which are neither pure, nor liberated from all generation.”
He adds, “we must admit, therefore, that there are two-fold species of
sacrifices; one kind, indeed, pertaining to men who are not entirely
purified, which, as Heraclitus says, rarely happens to one man, or to a
certain easily-to-be-numbered few of mankind; but the other kind being
material, and consisting in mutation, is adapted to souls that are still
detained by the body. Hence, to cities and people not yet liberated from
sublunary fate, and the impending communion of bodies, if such a mode of
sacrifice as this latter is not permitted, they will wander both from
immaterial and material good. For they will not be able to receive the
former, and to the latter they will not offer what is appropriate.”

He farther informs us, in Chap. 22, that though the summit of the
sacrific art recurs to the most principal one of the whole multitude of
Gods [_i.e._ to the ineffable cause of all,] and at one and the same
time worships the many essences and principles that are [rooted and
concentred] in it; yet this happens at the latest period, and to a very
few, and that we must be satisfied, if it takes place, when the sun
of life is setting. “But,” says he, “our present discussion does not
ordain laws for a man of this kind; for he is superior to all law; but
it promulgates a law such as that of which we are now speaking, to those
who are in want of a certain divine legislation.” In the above passage,
by “_a man of this kind_,” Iamblichus most probably alludes to Plotinus,
as both his works, and the life of him, written by Porphyry, show that he
was a man capable of recurring to, and becoming united with the highest
God, and thus at the same time worshipping all the divine powers that are
rooted in him.

To what Iamblichus has thus excellently observed, may be added what the
philosopher Sallust says in his golden treatise On the Gods and the
World, viz. “that since life primarily subsists in the Gods, and there
is also a certain human life, but the latter desires to be united to
the former, a medium is required; for natures much distant from each
other cannot be conjoined without a medium; and it is necessary that
the medium should be similar to the connected natures. Life, therefore,
must necessarily be the medium of life. Hence, men of the present day
that are happy, and all the ancients, have sacrificed animals; and
this, indeed, not rashly, but in a way accommodated to every God, with
many other ceremonies respecting the cultivation of divinity.” Let the
_truly intellectual and pious man_, however, never forget that prayer,
as Proclus divinely observes, possesses _of itself_ a supernatural
perfection and power.

[57] For a more _theological_ account of dæmons, I refer the reader to my
translation of the before-mentioned admirable treatise of Iamblichus on
the Mysteries.

[58] In the original, ως γαρ φασιν οι θεολογοι τοις δεομενοις υπο των
εκτος και μηδεπω κρατουσιν των παθων, κ.τ.λ. But for δεομενοις, it is
necessary to read δεδεμενοις; and it is evident that both the Latin
translators of this work found δεδεμενοις in their manuscripts. For
Felicianus has “qui _devincti_ externis rebus sunt,” and Valentinus, “qui
rebus externis _illigantur_.” Reisk, however, has taken no notice of this
error in the printed text.

[59] Reisk, with his usual stupidity, where merely verbal emendations are
not concerned, says that this Egyptian is Plotinus, whose country was
Lycopolis, in Egypt. But what instance can be adduced, in all antiquity,
of the disciple of a philosopher speaking of his preceptor in this
indefinite manner? Is it not much more probable that this Egyptian is
the priest mentioned by Porphyry in his Life of Plotinus, who, at the
request of a certain friend of Plotinus, (which friend was, perhaps,
Porphyry himself,) exhibited to Plotinus, in the temple of Isis, at Rome,
the familiar dæmon, or, in modern language, the guardian angel of that
philosopher?

[60] Conformably to this, the Pythagorean Demophilus beautifully
observes, Γυμνος αποσταλεις σοφος, γυμνιτευων καλεσει τον πεμψαντα· μονου
γαρ του μη τοις αλλοτριοις πεφορτισμενου επηκοος ο θεος. _i.e._ “The
wise man being sent hither naked, should naked invoke him by whom he was
sent. For he alone is heard by divinity, who is not burdened with things
of a foreign nature.”

[61] This expression of “approaching _alone_ to the _alone_ God,”
Porphyry derived from his master, the great Plotinus, who divinely
concludes his Enneads as follows:—και ουτω θεων και ανθρωπων θειων και
ευδαιμονων βιος, απαλλαγη των αλλων των τῃδε, ανηδονος των τῃδε, φυγη
μονου προς μονον—_i.e._ “This, therefore, is the life of the Gods, and
of divine and happy men, a liberation from all terrene concerns, a life
unaccompanied by human pleasures, and _a flight of the alone to the
alone_.”

[62] Nature, considered as the last of the causes which fabricate
this corporeal and sensible world, “bounds (says Proclus in Tim.) the
progressions of incorporeal essences, and is full of forms and powers,
through which she governs mundane affairs. And she is a Goddess, indeed,
considered as deified; but not according to the primary signification
of the word. By her summit likewise she comprehends the heavens, but
through these rules over the fluctuating empire of generation; and she
every where weaves together partial natures in admirable conjunction with
wholes.” See more on this subject in my translation of that work.

[63] This epithet is used in two of the Orphic hymns, viz. in Hymn LI.
7., and Hymn XXIX. 5. But the following appears to be the reason why
Bacchus is so called. Bacchus is the intellect, and Ippa the soul of
the world, according to the Orphic Theology; and the former is said by
Orpheus to be carried on the head of the latter. For so we are informed
by Proclus, in Tim. p. 124. Jacob de Rhoer, therefore, the editor of this
work, was grossly mistaken in saying, “Non dubito, quin ωμαδιος Διονυσος,
idem sit qui ωμηστης, crudivorus.” Scaliger, in his version of the Hymns,
very improperly translates ωμαδιος _bajulus_, _a porter_. For Bacchus is
_carried on_, but does not _carry_ Ippa.




ON ABSTINENCE FROM ANIMAL FOOD.

BOOK THE THIRD.


1. In the two preceding books, O Firmus Castricius, we have demonstrated,
that animal food does not contribute either to temperance and frugality,
or to the piety which especially gives completion to the theoretic life,
but is rather hostile to it. Since, however, the most beautiful part of
justice consists in piety to the Gods, and this is principally acquired
through abstinence, there is no occasion to fear that we shall violate
justice towards men, while we preserve piety towards the Gods. Socrates
therefore says, in opposition to those who contend that pleasure is the
supreme good, that though all swine and goats should accord in this
opinion, yet he should never be persuaded that our felicity was placed
in the enjoyment of corporeal delight, as long as intellect has dominion
over all things. And we also say, that though all wolves and vultures
should praise the eating of flesh, we should not admit that they spoke
justly, as long as man is by nature innoxious, and ought to abstain
from procuring pleasure for himself by injuring others. We shall pass
on, therefore, to the discussion of justice; and since our opponents
say that this ought only to be extended to those of a similar species,
and on this account deny that irrational animals can be injured by men,
let us exhibit the true, and at the same time Pythagoric opinion, and
demonstrate that every soul which participates of sense and memory is
rational. For this being demonstrated, we may extend, as our opponents
will also admit, justice to every animal. But we shall epitomize what has
been said by the ancients on this subject.

2. Since, however, with respect to reason, one kind, according to the
doctrine of the Stoics, is internal, but the other external[64]; and
again, one kind being right, but the other erroneous, it is requisite
to explain of which of these two, animals, according to them, are
deprived. Are they therefore deprived of right reason alone? or are they
entirely destitute both of internal and externally proceeding reason?
They appear, indeed, to ascribe to brutes an entire privation of reason,
and not a privation of right reason alone. For if they merely denied
that brutes possess right reason, animals would not be irrational, but
rational beings, in the same manner as nearly all men are according to
them. For, according to their opinion, one or two wise men may be found
in whom alone right reason prevails, but all the rest of mankind are
depraved; though some of these make a certain proficiency, but others are
profoundly depraved, and yet, at the same time, all of them are similarly
rational. Through the influence, therefore, of self-love, they say, that
all other animals are irrational; wishing to indicate by irrationality,
an entire privation of reason. If, however, it be requisite to speak the
truth, not only reason may plainly be perceived in all animals, but in
many of them it is so great as to approximate to perfection.

3. Since, therefore, reason is two-fold, one kind consisting in external
speech, but the other in the disposition of the soul, we shall begin from
that which is external, and which is arranged according to the voice. But
if external reason is voice, which through the tongue is significant of
the internal passions of the soul (for this is the most common definition
of it, and is not adopted by one sect [of philosophers] only, and if it
is alone indicative of the conception of [internal] reason)—if this be
the case, in what pertaining to this are such animals as have a voice
deficient? Do they not discursively perceive the manner in which they
are inwardly affected, before it is vocally enunciated by them? By a
discursive perception, however, I mean the perception produced by the
silent discourse which takes place in the soul. Since, therefore, that
which is vocally expressed by the tongue is reason, in whatever manner
it may be expressed, whether in a barbarous or a Grecian, a canine or a
bovine mode, other animals also participate of it that are vocal; men,
indeed, speaking conformably to the human laws [of speech], but other
animals conformably to the laws which they received from the Gods and
nature. But if we do not understand what they say, what is this to the
purpose? For the Greeks do not understand what is said by the Indians,
nor those who are educated in Attica the language of the Scythians, or
Thracians, or Syrians; but the sound of the one falls on the ears of the
other like the clangor of cranes, though by others their vocal sounds
can be written and articulated, in the same manner as ours can by us.
Nevertheless, the vocal sounds of the Syrians, for instance, or the
Persians, are to us inarticulate, and cannot be expressed by writing,
just as the speech of animals is unintelligible to all men. For as we,
when we hear the Scythians speak, apprehend, by the auditory sense, a
noise only and a sound, but are ignorant of the meaning of what they
say, because their language appears to us to be nothing but a clangor,
to have no articulation, and to employ only one sound either longer or
shorter, the variety of which is not at all significant to us, but to
them the vocal sounds are intelligible, and have a great difference, in
the same manner as our language has to us; the like also takes place
in the vocal sounds of other animals. For the several species of these
understand the language which is adapted to them, but we only hear a
sound, of the signification of which we are ignorant, because no one who
has learnt our language, is able to teach us through ours the meaning of
what is said by brutes. If, however, it is requisite to believe in the
ancients, and also in those who have lived in our times, and the times of
our fathers, there are some among these who are said to have heard and
to have understood the speech of animals. Thus, for instance, this is
narrated of Melampus and Tiresias, and others of the like kind; and the
same thing, not much prior to our time, is related of Apollonius Tyanæus.
For it is narrated of him, that once, when he was with his associates,
a swallow happening to be present, and twittering, he said, that the
swallow indicated to other birds, that an ass laden with corn had fallen
down before the city, and that in consequence of the fall of the ass, the
corn was spread on the ground[65]. An associate, also, of mine informed
me, that he once had a boy for a servant, who understood the meaning of
all the sounds of birds, and who said, that all of them were prophetic,
and declarative of what would shortly happen. He added, that he was
deprived of this knowledge through his mother, who, fearing that he would
be sent to the Emperor as a gift, poured urine into his ear when he was
asleep.

4. Omitting, however, these things, through the passion of incredulity,
which is connascent with us, I think there is no one who is ignorant,
that there are some nations even now who understand the sounds of certain
animals, through an alliance to those animals. Thus, the Arabians
understand the language of crows, and the Tyrrhenians of eagles. And,
perhaps, all men would understand the language of all animals, if a
dragon were to lick their ears. Indeed, the variety and difference in the
vocal sounds of animals, indicate that they are significant. Hence, we
hear one sound when they are terrified, but another, of a different kind,
when they call their associates, another when they summon their young
to food, another when they lovingly embrace each other, and another
when they incite to battle. And so great is the difference in their
vocal sounds, that, even by those who have spent their whole life in the
observation of them, it is found to be extremely difficult to ascertain
their meaning, on account of their multitude. Diviners, therefore, who
predict from ravens and crows, when they have noted the difference of the
sounds, as far as to a certain multitude, omit the rest, as not easily
to be apprehended by man. But when animals speak to each other, these
sounds are manifest and significant to them, though they are not known to
all of us. If, however, it appears that they imitate us, that they learn
the Greek tongue, and understand their keepers, what man is so impudent
as not to grant that they are rational, because he does not understand
what they say? Crows, therefore, and magpies, the robin redbreast, and
the parrot, imitate men, recollect what they have heard, are obedient
to their preceptor while he is teaching them; and many of them, through
what they have learnt, point out those that have acted wrong in the
house. But the Indian hyæna, which the natives call crocotta, speaks in
a manner so human, and this without a teacher, as to go to houses, and
call that person whom he knows he can easily vanquish. He also imitates
the voice of him who is most dear, and would most readily attend to the
person whom he calls; so that, though the Indians know this, yet being
deceived through the similitude, and obeying the call, they come forth,
and are destroyed. If, however, all animals do not imitate, and all of
them are not adapted to learn our language, what is this to the purpose?
For neither is every man docile or imitative, I will not say of the vocal
sounds of animals, but of the five dialects of the Greek tongue. To which
may be added, that some animals, perhaps, do not speak, because they have
not been taught, or because they are impeded by the ill conformation
of the instruments of speech. We, therefore, when we were at Carthage,
nurtured a tame partridge, which we caught flying, and which, in process
of time, and by associating with us, became so exceedingly mild, that it
was not only sedulously attentive to us, caressed and sported with us,
but uttered a sound corresponding to the sound of our voice, and, as far
as it was capable, answered us; and this in a manner different from that
by which partridges are accustomed to call each other. For it did not
utter a corresponding sound when we were silent, but when we spoke to it.

5. It is also narrated, that some dumb animals obey their masters with
more readiness than any domestic servants. Hence, a lamprey was so
accustomed to the Roman Crassus, as to come to him when he called it by
its name; on which account Crassus was so affectionately disposed towards
it, that he exceedingly lamented its death, though, prior to this,
he had borne the loss of three of his children with moderation. Many
likewise relate that the eels in Arethusa, and the shell-fish denominated
saperdæ, about Mæander, are obedient to those that call them. Is not the
imagination, therefore, of an animal that speaks, the same, whether it
proceeds as far as to the tongue, or does not? And if this be the case,
is it not absurd to call the voice of man alone [external] reason, but
refuse thus to denominate the voice of other animals? For this is just as
if crows should think that their voice alone is external reason, but that
we are irrational animals, because the meaning of the sounds which we
utter is not obvious to them; or as if the inhabitants of Attica should
thus denominate their speech alone, and should think that those are
irrational who are ignorant of the Attic tongue, though the inhabitants
of Attica would sooner understand the croaking of a crow, than the
language of a Syrian or a Persian. But is it not absurd to judge of
rationality and irrationality from apprehending or not apprehending the
meaning of vocal sounds, or from silence and speech? For thus some one
might say, that the God who is above all things, and likewise the other
Gods, are not rational, because they do not speak. The Gods, however,
silently indicate their will, and birds apprehend their will more rapidly
than men, and when they have apprehended it, they narrate it to men as
much as they are able, and different birds are the messengers to men of
different Gods. Thus, the eagle is the messenger of Jupiter, the hawk and
the crow of Apollo, the stork of Juno, the crex and the bird of night
of Minerva, the crane of Ceres, and some other bird is the messenger of
some other deity. Moreover, those among us that observe animals, and are
nurtured together with them, know the meaning of their vocal sounds. The
hunter, therefore, from the barking of his dog, perceives at one time,
indeed, that the dog explores a hare, but at another, that the dog has
found it; at one time, that he pursues the game, at another that he has
caught it, and at another that he is in the wrong track, through having
lost the scent of it. Thus, too, the cowherd knows, at one time, indeed,
that a cow is hungry, or thirsty, or weary, and at another, that she is
incited to venery, or seeks her calf, [from her different lowings][66].
A lion also manifests by his roaring that he threatens, a wolf by his
howling that he is in a bad condition, and shepherds, from the bleating
of sheep, know what the sheep want.

6. Neither, therefore, are animals ignorant of the meaning of the voice
of men, when they are angry, or speak kindly to, or call them, or pursue
them, or ask them to do something, or give something to them; nor, in
short, are they ignorant of any thing that is usually said to them, but
are aptly obedient to it; which it would be impossible for them to do,
unless that which is similar to intellection energized, in consequence
of being excited by its similar. The immoderation of their passions,
also, is suppressed by certain modulations, and stags, bulls, and other
animals, from being wild become tame. Those, too, who are decidedly of
opinion that brutes are deprived of reason, yet admit that dogs have a
knowledge of dialectic, and make use of the syllogism which consists of
many disjunctive propositions, when, in searching for their game, they
happen to come to a place where there are three roads. For they thus
reason, the beast has either fled through this road, or through that, or
through the remaining road; but it has not fled either through this, or
through that, and therefore it must have fled through the remaining third
of these roads[67]. After which syllogistic process, they resume their
pursuit in that road. It may, however, be readily said, that animals
do these things naturally, because they were not taught by any one to
do them; as if we also were not allotted reason by nature, though we
likewise give names to things, because we are naturally adapted to do so.
Besides, if it be requisite to believe in Aristotle, animals are seen to
teach their offspring, not only something pertaining to other things, but
also to utter vocal sounds; as the nightingale, for instance, teaches
her young to sing. And as he likewise says, animals learn many things
from each other, and many from men; and the truth of what he asserts is
testified by all the tamers of colts, by every jockey, horseman, and
charioteer, and by all hunters, herdsmen, keepers of elephants, and
masters of wild beasts and birds. He, therefore, who estimates things
rightly, will be led, from these instances, to ascribe intelligence to
brutes; but he who is inconsiderate, and is ignorant of these things,
will be induced to act rashly, through his inexhaustible avidity
co-operating with him against them. For how is it possible that he should
not defame and calumniate animals, who has determined to cut them in
pieces, as if they were stones? Aristotle, however, Plato, Empedocles,
Pythagoras, Democritus, and all such as endeavoured to discover the
truth concerning animals, have acknowledged that they participate of
reason.

7. But it is now requisite to show that brutes have internal reason. The
difference, indeed, between our reason and theirs, appears to consist,
as Aristotle somewhere says, not in essence, but in the more and the
less; just as many are of opinion, that the difference between the Gods
and us is not essential, but consists in this, that in them there is a
greater, and in us a less accuracy, of the reasoning power[68]. And,
indeed, so far as pertains to sense and the remaining organization,
according to the sensoria and the flesh, every one nearly will grant that
these are similarly disposed in us, as they are in brutes. For they not
only similarly participate with us of natural passions, and the motions
produced through these, but we may also survey in them such affections
as are preternatural and morbid. No one, however, of a sound mind, will
say that brutes are unreceptive of the reasoning power, on account of
the difference between their habit of body and ours, when he sees that
there is a great variety of habit in men, according to their race, and
the nations to which they belong, and yet, at the same time, it is
granted that all of them are rational. An ass, therefore, is afflicted
with a catarrh, and if the disease flows to his lungs, he dies in the
same manner as a man. A horse, too, is subject to purulence, and wastes
away through it, like a man. He is likewise attacked with rigour, the
gout, fever, and fury, in which case he is also said to have a depressed
countenance. A mare, when pregnant, if she happens to smell a lamp when
it is just extinguished, becomes abortive, in the same manner as a woman.
An ox, and likewise a camel, are subject to fever and insanity; a
raven becomes scabby, and has the leprosy; and also a dog, who, besides
this, is afflicted with the gout, and madness: but a hog is subject to
hoarseness, and in a still greater degree a dog; whence this disease in a
man is denominated from the dog, _cynanche_. And these things are known
to us, because we are familiar with these animals; but of the diseases
of other animals we are ignorant, because we do not associate with them.
Castrated animals also become more effeminate. Hence cocks, when they
are castrated, no longer crow; but their voice becomes effeminate, like
that of men who lose their testicles. It is not possible, likewise, to
distinguish the bellowing and horns of a bull, when he is castrated,
from those of a cow. But stags, when they are castrated, no longer cast
off their horns, but retain them in the same manner as eunuchs do their
hairs; and if, when they are castrated, they are without horns, they do
not afterwards produce them, just as it happens to those who, before they
have a beard, are made eunuchs. So that nearly the bodies of all animals
are similarly affected with ours, with respect to the bodily calamities
to which they are subject.

8. See, however, whether all the passions of the soul in brutes, are not
similar to ours; for it is not the province of man alone to apprehend
juices by the taste, colours by the sight, odours by the smell, sounds
by the hearing, cold or heat, or other tangible objects, by the touch;
but the senses of brutes are capable of the same perceptions. Nor are
brutes deprived of sense because they are not men, as neither are we to
be deprived of reason, because the Gods, if they possess it, are rational
beings. With respect to the senses, however, other animals appear greatly
to surpass us; for what man can see so acutely as a dragon? (for this
is not the fabulous Lynceus). And hence the poets denominate _to see_
δρακειν, _drakein_: but an eagle, from a great height, sees a hare.
What man hears more acutely than cranes, who are able to hear from an
interval so great, as to be beyond the reach of human sight? And as to
smell, almost all animals so much surpass us in this sense, that things
which fall on it, and are obvious to them, are concealed from us; so that
they know and smell the several kinds of animals by their footsteps.
Hence, men employ dogs as their leaders, for the purpose of discovering
the retreat of a boar, or a stag. And we, indeed, are slowly sensible
of the constitution of the air; but this is immediately perceived by
other animals, so that from them we derive indications of the future
state of the weather. With respect to juices also, they so accurately
know the distinction between them, that their knowledge of what are
morbific, salubrious, and deleterious among these, surpasses that of
physicians. But Aristotle says, that animals whose sensitive powers are
more exquisite, are more prudent. And the diversities, indeed, of bodies
are capable of producing a facility or difficulty of being passively
affected, and of having reason, more or less prompt in its energies; but
they are not capable of changing the essence of the soul, since neither
are they able to change the senses, nor to alter the passions, nor to
make them entirely abandon their proper nature. It must be granted,
therefore, that animals participate more or less of reason, but not that
they are perfectly deprived of it; as neither must it be admitted that
one animal has reason, but another not. As, however, in one and the same
species of animals, one body is more, but another less healthy; and, in
a similar manner, in diseases, in a naturally good, and a naturally bad,
disposition, there is a great difference; thus also in souls, one is
naturally good, but another depraved: and of souls that are depraved, one
has more, but another less, of depravity. In good men, likewise, there
is not the same equality; for Socrates, Aristotle, and Plato, are not
similarly good. Nor is there sameness in a concordance of opinions. Hence
it does not follow, if we have more intelligence than other animals, that
on this account they are to be deprived of intelligence; as neither must
it be said, that partridges do not fly, because hawks fly higher; nor
that other hawks do not fly, because the bird called phassophonos[69]
flies higher than these, and than all other birds. Some one, therefore,
may admit that the soul is co-passive with the body, and that the former
suffers something from the latter, when the latter is well or ill
affected; but in this case it by no means changes its nature: but if the
soul is only co-passive to, and uses the body as an instrument, she may
be able to effect many things through it, which we cannot, even when it
is organized differently from ours, and when it is affected in a certain
manner, may sympathize with it, and yet may not change its proper nature.

9. It must be demonstrated, therefore, that there is a rational power in
animals, and that they are not deprived of prudence. And in the first
place, indeed, each of them knows whether it is imbecile or strong, and,
in consequence of this, it defends some parts of itself, but attacks
with others. Thus the panther uses its teeth, the lion its nails and
teeth, the horse its hoofs, the ox its horns, the cock its spurs, and
the scorpion its sting; but the serpents in Egypt use their spittle,
(whence also they are called πτυαδες, _ptuades_, i.e. _spitters_,) and
with this they blind the eyes of those that approach them: and thus a
different animal uses a different part of itself for attack, in order
to save itself. Again, some animals, viz. such as are robust, feed [and
live] remote from men; but others, who are of an ignoble nature, live
remote from stronger animals, and, on the contrary, dwell nearer men.
And of these, some dwell at a greater distance from more robust animals,
as sparrows and swallows, who build their nests in the roofs of houses;
but others associate with men, as, for instance, dogs. They likewise
change their places of abode at certain times, and know every thing
which contributes to their advantage. In a similar manner, in fishes and
in birds, a reasoning energy of this kind may be perceived; all which
particulars are abundantly collected by the ancients, in their writings
concerning the prudence of animals; and they are copiously discussed by
Aristotle, who says, that by all animals an habitation subservient to
their subsistence and their safety, is most exquisitely contrived.

10. But he who says that these things are naturally present with animals,
is ignorant in asserting this, that they are by nature rational; or
if this is not admitted, neither does reason subsist in us naturally,
nor with the perfection of it receive an increase, so far as we are
naturally adapted to receive it. A divine nature, indeed, does not become
rational[70] through learning, for there never was a time in which he
was irrational; but rationality is consubsistent with his existence,
and he is not prevented from being rational, because he did not receive
reason through discipline: though, with respect to other animals, in
the same manner as with respect to men, many things are taught them by
nature, and some things are imparted by discipline. Brutes, however,
learn some things from each other, but are taught others, as we have
said, by men. They also have memory, which is a most principal thing in
the resumption of reasoning and prudence. They likewise have vices, and
are envious; though their bad qualities are not so widely extended as in
men: for their vices are of a lighter nature than those of men. This,
indeed, is evident; for the builder of a house will never be able to lay
the foundation of it, unless he is sober; nor can a shipwright properly
place the keel of a ship, unless he is in health; nor a husbandman plant
a vine, unless he applies his mind to it; yet nearly all men, when they
are intoxicated, can beget children. This, however, is not the case with
other animals; for they propagate for the sake of offspring, and for the
most part, when the males have made the female pregnant, they no longer
attempt to be connected with her; nor, if they should attempt it, would
the female permit them. But the magnitude of the lascivious insolence
and intemperance of men in these things, is evident. In other animals,
however, the male is conscious of the parturient throes of the female,
and, for the most part, partakes of the same pains; as is evident in
cocks. But others incubate together with the females; as the males of
doves. They likewise provide a proper place for the delivery of their
offspring; and after they have brought forth their offspring, they both
purify them and themselves. And he who properly observes, will see that
every thing proceeds with them in an orderly manner; that they fawn
on him who nourishes them, and that they know their master, and give
indications of him who acts insidiously.

11. Who likewise is ignorant how much gregarious animals preserve justice
towards each other? for this is preserved by ants, by bees, and by other
animals of the like kind. And who is ignorant of the chastity of female
ring-doves towards the males with whom they associate? for they destroy
those who are found by them to have committed adultery. Or who has not
heard of the justice of storks towards their parents? For in the several
species of animals, a peculiar virtue is eminent, to which each species
is naturally adapted; nor because this virtue is natural and stable,
is it fit to deny that they are rational? For it might be requisite
to deprive them of rationality, if their works were not the proper
effects of virtue and rational sagacity; but if we do not understand how
these works are effected, because we are unable to penetrate into the
reasoning which they use, we are not on this account to accuse them
of irrationality; for neither is any one able to penetrate into the
intellect of that divinity the sun, but from his works we assent to those
who demonstrate him to be an intellectual and rational essence.

12. But some one may very properly wonder at those who admit that justice
derives its subsistence from the rational part, and who call those
animals that have no association with men, savage and unjust, and yet
do not extend justice as far as to those that do associate with us; and
which, in the same manner as men, would be deprived of life, if they
were deprived of human society. Birds, therefore, and dogs, and many
quadrupeds, such as goats, horses, sheep, asses, and mules, would perish,
if deprived of an association with mankind. Nature also, the fabricator
of their frame, constituted them so as to be in want of men, and
fashioned men so as to require their assistance; thus producing an innate
justice in them towards us, and in us towards them. But it is not at all
wonderful, if some of them are savage towards men; for what Aristotle
says is true, that if all animals had an abundance of nutriment, they
would not act ferociously, either towards each other, or towards men.
For on account of food, though necessary and slender, enmities and
friendships are produced among animals, and also on account of the places
which they occupy; but if men were reduced to such straits as brutes
are [with respect to food,] how much more savage would they become than
those animals that appear to be wild? War and famine are indications of
the truth of this; for then men do not abstain from eating each other;
and even without war and famine, they eat animals that are nurtured with
them, and are perfectly tame.

13. Some one, however, may say, that brutes are indeed rational animals,
but have not a certain habitude, proximity, or alliance to us; but he
who asserts this will, in the first place, make them to be irrational
animals, in consequence of depriving them of an alliance to our nature.
And, in the next place, he will make their association with us to depend
on the utility which we derive from them, and not on the participation
of reason. The thing proposed by us, however, is to show that brutes are
rational animals, and not to inquire whether there is any compact between
them and us. For, with respect to men, all of them do not league with us,
and yet no one would say, that he who does not enter into a league with
us is irrational. But many brutes are slaves to men, and, as some one
rightly says, though they are in a state of servitude themselves, through
the improbity of men, yet, at the same time, by wisdom and justice, they
cause their masters to be their servants and curators. Moreover, the
vices of brutes are manifest, from which especially their rationality
is demonstrated. For they are envious, and the males are rivals of each
other with respect to the favour of the females, and the females with
respect to the regard of the males. There is one vice, however, which is
not inherent in them, viz. acting insidiously towards their benefactors,
but they are perfectly benevolent to those who are kind to them, and
place so much confidence in them, as to follow wherever they may lead
them, though it should even be to slaughter and manifest danger. And
though some one should nourish them, not for their sake, but for his
own, yet they will be benevolently disposed towards their possessor. But
men [on the contrary] do not act with such hostility towards any one,
as towards him who has nourished them; nor do they so much pray for the
death of any one, as for his death.

14. Indeed, the operations of brutes are attended with so much
consideration[71], that they frequently perceive, that the food which is
placed for them is nothing else than a snare, though, either through
intemperance or hunger, they approach to it. And some of them, indeed, do
not approach to it immediately, but others slowly accede to it. They also
try whether it is possible to take the food without falling into danger,
and frequently in consequence of rationality vanquishing passion, they
depart without being injured. Some of them too revile at, and discharge
their urine on the stratagem of men; but others, through voracity, though
they know that they shall be captured, yet no less than the associates
of Ulysses, suffer themselves to die rather than not eat. Some persons,
likewise, have not badly endeavoured to show from the places which
animals are allotted, that they are far more prudent than we are. For as
those beings that dwell in æther are rational, so also, say they, are
the animals which occupy the region proximate to æther, viz. the air;
afterwards aquatic animals differ from these, and in the last place, the
terrestrial differ from the aquatic [in degrees of rationality]. And we
belong to the class of terrene animals dwelling in the sediment of the
universe. For in the Gods, we must not infer that they possess a greater
degree of excellence from the places [which they illuminate], though in
mortal natures this may be admitted.

15. Since, also, brutes acquire a knowledge of the arts, and these such
as are human, and learn to dance, to drive a chariot, to fight a duel, to
walk on ropes, to write and read, to play on the pipe and the harp, to
discharge arrows, and to ride,—this being the case, can you any longer
doubt whether they possess that power which is receptive of art, since
the recipient of these arts may be seen to exist in them? For where
will they receive them, unless reason is inherent in them in which the
arts subsist? For they do not hear our voice as if it was a mere sound
only, but they also perceive the difference in the meaning of the words,
which is the effect of rational intelligence. But our opponents say,
that animals perform badly what is done by men. To this we reply, that
neither do men perform all things well. For if this be not admitted,
some men would be in vain victors in a contest, and others vanquished.
They add, that brutes do not consult, nor form assemblies, nor act in a
judicial capacity. But tell me whether all men do this? Do not actions in
the multitude precede consultation? And whence can any one demonstrate
that brutes do not consult? For no one can adduce an argument sufficient
to prove that they do not. But those show the contrary to this, who
have written minutely about animals. As to other objections, which are
adduced by our adversaries in a declamatory way, they are perfectly
frivolous; such, for instance; as that brutes have no cities of their
own. For neither have the Scythians, who live in carts, nor the Gods.
Our opponents add, that neither have brutes any written laws. To this we
reply, that neither had men while they were happy. For Apis is said to
have been the first that promulgated laws for the Greeks, when they were
in want of them.

16. To men, therefore, on account of their voracity, brutes do not appear
to possess reason; but by the Gods and divine men, they are honoured
equally with sacred suppliants. Hence, the God[72] said to Aristodicus,
the Cumean, that sparrows were his suppliants. Socrates also, and prior
to him, Rhadamanthus, swore by animals. But the Egyptians conceive them
to be Gods, whether they, in reality, thought them to be so, or whether
they intentionally represented the Gods in the forms of oxen, birds, and
other animals, in order that these animals might be no less abstained
from than from men, or whether they did this through other more mystical
causes[73]. Thus also the Greeks united a ram to the statue of Jupiter,
but the horns of a bull to that of Bacchus. They likewise fashioned the
statue of Pan from the form of a man and a goat; but they represented the
Muses and the Sirens winged, and also Victory, Iris, Love, and Hermes.
Pindar too, in his hymns, represents the Gods, when they were expelled
by Typhon, not resembling men, but other animals. And Jupiter, when in
love with Pasiphae, is said to have become a bull; but at another time,
he is said to have been changed into an eagle and a swan; through all
which the ancients indicated the honour which they paid to animals, and
this in a still greater degree when they assert that Jupiter was nursed
by a goat. The Cretans, from a law established by Rhadamanthus, swore
by all animals. Nor was Socrates in jest when he swore by the dog and
the goose; but in so doing, he swore conformably to the just son of
Jupiter [Rhadamanthus]; nor did he sportfully say that swans were his
fellow-servants. But fables obscurely signify, that animals have souls
similar to ours, when they say that the Gods in their anger changed men
into brutes, and that, when they were so changed, they afterwards pitied
and loved them. For things of this kind are asserted of dolphins and
halcyons, of nightingales and swallows.

17. Each of the ancients, likewise, who had been prosperously nursed by
animals, boasted more of this than of their parents and educators. Thus,
one boasted of having been nursed by a she-wolf, another by a hind,
another by a she-goat, and another by a bee. But Semiramis gloried in
having been brought up by doves, Cyrus in being nursed by a dog, and a
Thracian in having a swan for his nurse, who likewise bore the name of
his nurse. Hence also, the Gods obtained their surnames, as Bacchus that
of _Hinnuleus_, Apollo that of _Lyceus_, and, likewise _Delphinius_,
Neptune and Minerva that of _Equestris_. But Hecate, when invoked by
the names of a bull, a dog, and a lioness, is more propitious. If,
however, those who sacrifice animals and eat them, assert that they are
irrational, in order that they may mitigate the crime of so doing, the
Scythians also, who eat their parents, may in like manner say that their
parents are destitute of reason.

18. Through these arguments, therefore, and others which we shall
afterwards mention, in narrating the opinions of the ancients, it is
demonstrated that brutes are rational animals, reason in most of them
being indeed imperfect, of which, nevertheless, they are not entirely
deprived. Since, however, justice pertains to rational beings, as our
opponents say, how is it possible not to admit, that we should also act
justly towards brutes? For we do not extend justice to plants, because
there appears to be much in them which is unconnected with reason; though
of these, we are accustomed to use the fruits, but not together with the
fruits to cut off the trunks. We collect, however, corn and leguminous
substances, when, being efflorescent, they have fallen on the earth,
and are dead. But no one uses for food the flesh of dead animals, that
of fish being excepted, unless they have been destroyed by violence. So
that in these things there is much injustice. As Plutarch also says[74],
it does not follow that, because our nature is indigent of certain
things, and we use these, we should therefore act unjustly towards all
things. For we are allowed to injure other things to a certain extent,
in order to procure the necessary means of subsistence (if to take any
thing from plants, even while they are living, is an injury to them);
but to destroy other things through luxury, and for the enjoyment of
pleasure, is perfectly savage and unjust. And the abstinence from these
neither diminishes our life nor our living happily. For if, indeed,
the destruction of animals and the eating of flesh were as requisite
as air and water, plants and fruits, without which it is impossible to
live, this injustice would be necessarily connected with our nature. But
if many priests of the Gods, and many kings of the barbarians, being
attentive to purity, and if, likewise, infinite species of animals never
taste food of this kind, yet live, and obtain their proper end according
to nature, is not he absurd who orders us, because we are compelled to
wage war with certain animals, not to live peaceably with those with whom
it is possible to do so, but thinks, either that we ought to live without
exercising justice towards any thing, or that, by exercising it towards
all things, we should not continue in existence? As, therefore, among
men, he who, for the sake of his own safety, or that of his children or
country, either seizes the wealth of certain persons, or oppresses some
region or city, has necessity for the pretext of his injustice; but he
who acts in this manner through the acquisition of wealth, or through
satiety or luxurious pleasure, and for the purpose of satisfying desires
which are not necessary, appears to be inhospitable, intemperate, and
depraved;—thus too, divinity pardons the injuries which are done to
plants, the consumption of fire and water, the shearing of sheep, the
milking of cows, and the taming of oxen, and subjugating them to the
yoke, for the safety and continuance in life of those that use them.
But to deliver animals to be slaughtered and cooked, and thus be filled
with murder, not for the sake of nutriment and satisfying the wants of
nature, but making pleasure and gluttony the end of such conduct, is
transcendently iniquitous and dire. For it is sufficient that we use, for
laborious purposes, though they have no occasion to labour themselves,
the progeny of horses, and asses, and bulls, as Æschylus says, as our
substitutes, who, by being tamed and subjugated to the yoke, alleviate
our toil.

19. But with respect to him who thinks that we should not use an ox for
food, nor destroying and corrupting spirit and life, place things on
the table which are only the allurements and elegancies of satiety, of
what does he deprive our life, which is either necessary to our safety,
or subservient to virtue? To compare plants, however, with animals,
is doing violence to the order of things. For the latter are naturally
sensitive, and adapted to feel pain, to be terrified and hurt; on which
account also they may be injured. But the former are entirely destitute
of sensation, and in consequence of this, nothing foreign, or evil, or
hurtful, or injurious, can befall them. For sensation is the principle
of all alliance, and of every thing of a foreign nature. But Zeno and
his followers assert, that alliance is the principle of justice. And is
it not absurd, since we see that many of our own species live from sense
alone, but do not possess intellect and reason, and since we also see,
that many of them surpass the most terrible of wild beasts in cruelty,
anger, and rapine, being murderous of their children and their parents,
and also being tyrants, and the tools of kings [is it not, I say,
absurd,] to fancy that we ought to act justly towards these, but that no
justice is due from us to the ox that ploughs, the dog that is fed with
us, and the animals that nourish us with their milk, and adorn our bodies
with their wool? Is not such an opinion most irrational and absurd?

20. But, by Jupiter, the assertion of Chrysippus is considered by our
opponents to be very probable, that the Gods made us for the sake of
themselves, and for the sake of each other, and that they made animals
for the sake of us; horses, indeed, in order that they might assist us
in battle, dogs, that they might hunt with us, and leopards, bears, and
lions, for the sake of exercising our fortitude. But the hog (for here
the pleasantry of Chrysippus is most delightful) was not made for any
other purpose than to be sacrificed; and God mingled soul, as if it
were salt, with the flesh of this animal, that he might procure for us
excellent food. In order, likewise, that we might have an abundance of
broth, and luxurious suppers, divinity provided for us all-various kinds
of shell-fish, the fishes called purples, sea-nettles, and the various
kinds of winged animals; and this not from a certain other cause, but
only that he might supply man with an exuberance of pleasure; in so
doing, surpassing all nurses [in kindness], and thickly filling with
pleasures and enjoyments the terrestrial place. Let him, however, to
whom these assertions appear to possess a certain probability, and to
participate of something worthy of deity, consider what he will reply to
the saying of Carneades, that every thing which is produced by nature, is
_benefited_ when it obtains the end to which it is adapted, and for which
it was generated. But _benefit_ is to be understood in a more general
way, as signifying what the Stoics call _useful_. The hog, however, [says
he] was produced by nature for the purpose of being slaughtered and used
for food; and when it suffers this, it obtains the end for which it is
adapted, and is benefited. But if God fashioned animals for the use of
men, in what do we use flies, lice, bats, beetles, scorpions, and vipers?
of which some are odious to the sight, defile the touch, are intolerable
to the smell, and in their voice dire and unpleasant; and others, on
the contrary, are destructive to those that meet with them. And with
respect to the _balænæ_, _pistrices_, and other species of whales, an
infinite number of which, as Homer says[75], the loud-sounding Amphitrite
nourishes, does not the Demiurgus teach us, that they were generated for
the utility of the nature of things[76]? And if our opponents should
admit that all things were not generated for us, and with a view to our
advantage, in addition to the distinction which they make being very
confused and obscure, we shall not avoid acting unjustly, in attacking
and noxiously using those animals which were not produced for our
sake, but according to nature [_i.e._ for the sake of the universe],
as we were. I omit to mention, that if we define, by utility, things
which pertain to us, we shall not be prevented from admitting, that we
were generated for the sake of the most destructive animals, such as
crocodiles, balænæ, and dragons. For we are not in the least benefited
by them; but they seize and destroy men that fall in their way, and use
them for food; in so doing acting not at all more cruelly than we do,
excepting that they commit this injustice through want and hunger, but
we through insolent wantonness, and for the sake of luxury, frequently
sporting in theatres, and in hunting slaughter the greater part of
animals. And by thus acting, indeed, a murderous disposition and a brutal
nature become strengthened in us, and render us insensible to pity: to
which we may add, that those who first dared to do this, blunted the
greatest part of lenity, and rendered it inefficacious. The Pythagoreans,
however, made lenity towards beasts to be an exercise of philanthropy
and commiseration. So that, how is it possible they should not in a
greater degree excite us to justice, than those who assert that, by not
slaughtering animals, the justice which is usually exercised towards
men will be corrupted? For custom is most powerful in increasing those
passions in man which were gradually introduced into his nature.

21. It is so, say our antagonists; but as the immortal is opposed to
the mortal, the incorruptible to the corruptible, and the incorporeal
to the corporeal, so to the rational essence which has an existence in
the nature of things, the irrational essence must be opposed, which has
a subsistence contrary to it; nor in so many conjugations of things, is
this alone to be left imperfect and mutilated. [Our opponents, however,
thus speak], as if we did not grant this, or as if we had not shown that
there is much of the irrational among beings. For there is an abundance
of it in all the natures that are destitute of soul, nor do we require
any other opposition to that which is rational; but immediately every
thing which is deprived of soul, being irrational and without intellect,
is opposed to that which possesses reason and _dianoia_[77]. If, however,
some one should think fit to assert that not nature in common, but the
animated nature, is divided into that which possesses and that which is
without imagination, and into that which is sensitive, and that which
is deprived of sensation, in order that these oppositions of habits and
privations may subsist about the same genus, as being equiponderant;—he
who says this speaks absurdly. For it would be absurd to investigate in
the animated nature that which is sensitive, and that which is without
sensation, that which employs, and that which is without imagination,
because every thing animated is immediately adapted to be sensitive and
imaginative. So that neither thus will he justly require, that one part
of the animated nature should be rational, but another irrational, when
he is speaking to men, who think that nothing participates of sense
which does not also participate of intelligence, and that nothing is
an animal in which opinion and reasoning are not inherent, in the same
manner as with animals every sense and impulse are naturally present.
For nature, which they rightly assert produced all things for the sake
of a certain thing, and with reference to a certain end, did not make an
animal sensitive merely that it might be passively affected, and possess
sensible perception; but as there are many things which are allied and
appropriate, and many which are foreign to it, it would not be able to
exist for the shortest space of time, unless it learnt how to avoid
some things, and to pursue others. The knowledge, therefore, of both
these, sense similarly imparts to every animal; but the apprehension and
pursuit of what is useful, and the depulsion and avoidance of what is
destructive and painful, can by no possible contrivance be present with
those animals that are incapable of reasoning, judging, and remembering,
and that do not naturally possess an animadversive power. For to those
animals from whom you entirely take away expectation, memory, design,
preparation, hope, fear, desire, and indignation, neither the eyes when
present, nor the ears, nor sense, nor phantasy, will be beneficial, since
they will be of no use; and it will be better to be deprived of them
than to labour, be in pain, and be afflicted, without possessing the
power of repelling these molestations. There is, however, a treatise of
Strato, the physiologist, in which it is demonstrated, that it is not
possible to have a sensible perception of any thing without the energy of
intellection. For frequently the letters of a book, which we cursorily
consider by the sight, and words which fall on the auditory sense, are
concealed from and escape us, when our intellect is attentive to other
things; but afterwards, when it returns to the thing to which it was
before inattentive, then, by recollection, it runs through and pursues
each of the before-mentioned particulars. Hence also it is said [by
Epicharmus],—

    ’Tis mind alone that sees and hears,
    And all besides is deaf and blind.

For the objects which fall on the eyes and the ears do not produce a
sensible perception of themselves, unless that which is intellective
is present. On which account, also, king Cleomenes, when something
that was recited was applauded, being asked, if it did not also appear
to him to be excellent, left this to the decision of those that asked
him the question; for he said, that his intellect was at the time in
Peloponnesus. Hence it is necessary that intellect should be present with
all those with whom sensible perception is present.

22. Let us, however, admit that sense does not require intellect for
the accomplishment of its proper work, yet, when energizing about what
is appropriate and what is foreign, it discerns the difference between
the two, it must then exercise the power of memory, and must dread that
which will produce pain, desire that which will be beneficial, and
contrive, if it is absent, how it may be present, and will procure
methods of pursuing and investigating what is advantageous, and of
avoiding and flying from hostile occurrences. Indeed, our opponents, in
their Introductions, [as they call them], every where inculcate these
things with a tedious prolixity, defining design to be an indication of
perfection; the tendency of intellect to the object of its perception,
an impulse prior to impulse; preparation, an action prior to action;
and memory, the comprehension of some past thing[78], the perception
of which, when present, was obtained through sense. For there is not
any one of these which is not rational, and all of them are present
with all animals. Thus, too, with respect to intellections, those which
are reposited in the mind, are called by them εννοιαι, _notions_; but
when they are in motion [through a discursive energy] they denominate
them διανοησεις, or _perceptions obtained by a reasoning process_. But
with respect to all the passions, as they are in common acknowledged to
be depraved natures and opinions, it is wonderful that our opponents
should overlook the operations and motions of brutes, many of which are
the effects of anger, many of fear, and, by Jupiter, of envy also and
emulation. Our opponents, too, themselves punish dogs and horses when
they do wrong; and this not in vain, but in order to make them better,
producing in them, through the pain, a sorrow which we denominate
repentance. But the name of the pleasure which is received through the
ears is κηλησις, _i.e._ _an ear-alluring sweetness_; and the delight
which is received through the eyes is denominated γοητεια, _i.e._
_enchantment_. Each of these, however, is used towards brutes. Hence
stags and horses are _allured_ by the harmony produced from reeds and
flutes; and the crabs, called παγουροι, _paguri_, are evocated from
their caverns by the melody of reeds. The fish _thrissa_, likewise, is
said through harmony to come forth from its retreats. Those, however,
who speak stupidly about these things, assert that animals are neither
delighted, nor enraged, nor terrified, nor make any provision for what
is necessary, nor remember; but they say that the bee _as it were_
remembers, that the swallow _as it were_ provides what is requisite,
that the lion is _as it were_ angry, and that the stag is _as it were_
afraid. And I know not what answer to give to those who say that animals
neither see nor hear, but see _as it were_, and _as it were_ hear; that
they do not utter vocal sounds, but _as it were_ utter them; and that,
in short, they do not live, but _as it were_ live. For he who is truly
intelligent, will readily admit that these assertions are no more sane
than the former, and are similarly destitute of evidence. When, however,
on comparing with human manners and lives, actions, and modes of living,
those of animals, I see much depravity in the latter, and no manifest
tendency to virtue as to the principal end, nor any proficiency, or
appetition of proficiency, I am dubious why nature gave the beginning of
perfection to those that are never able to arrive at the end of it[79].
But this to our opponents does not appear to be at all absurd. For as
they admit that the love of parents towards their offspring is the
principle in us of association and justice; yet, though they perceive
that this affection is abundant and strong in animals, they nevertheless
deny that they participate of justice; which assertion is similarly
defective with the nature of mules, who, though they are not in want of
any generative member, since they have a penis and vulva, and receive
pleasure from employing these parts, yet they are not able to accomplish
the end of generation. Consider the thing, too, in another way: Is it
not ridiculous to say that such men as Socrates, Plato, and Zeno, were
not less vicious than any slave, but resembled slaves in stupidity,
intemperance, and injustice, and afterwards blame the nature of brutes,
as neither pure, nor formed with sufficient accuracy for the attainment
of virtue; thus attributing to them a privation, and not a depravity
and imbecility of reason? Especially since they acknowledge that there
is a vice of the rational part of the soul, with which every brute is
replete. For we may perceive that timidity, intemperance, injustice, and
malevolence, are inherent in many brutes.

23. But he who thinks that the nature which is not adapted to receive
rectitude of reason, does not at all receive reason, he, in the first
place, does not differ from one who fancies that an ape does not
naturally participate of deformity, nor a tortoise of tardity; because
the former is not receptive of beauty, nor the latter of celerity. And,
in the next place, this is the opinion of one who does not perceive the
obvious difference of things. For reason, indeed, is ingenerated by
nature; but right and perfect reason is acquired by study and discipline.
Hence all animated beings participate of reason, but our opponents cannot
mention any man who possesses rectitude of reason and wisdom [naturally],
though the multitude of men is innumerable. But as the sight of one
animal differs from that of another, and the flying of one bird from that
of another, (for hawks and grasshoppers do not similarly see, nor eagles
and partridges); thus, also, neither does every thing which participates
of reason possess genius and acuteness in the highest perfection.
Indeed there are many indications in brutes of association, fortitude,
and craft, in procuring what is necessary, and in economical conduct;
as, on the contrary, there are also indications in them of injustice,
timidity, and fatuity. Hence it is a question with some, which are the
more excellent, terrestrial or aquatic animals[80]? And that there are
these indications, is evident from comparing storks with river horses:
for the former nourish, but the latter destroy their fathers, in order
that they may have connexion with their mothers. This is likewise seen
on comparing doves with partridges: for the latter conceal and destroy
their eggs, if the female, during her incubation, refuses to be connected
with the male. But doves successively relieve each other in incubation,
alternately cherishing the eggs; and first, indeed, they feed the young,
and afterwards the male strikes the female with his beak, and drives
her to the eggs and her young, if she has for a long time wandered from
them. Antipater, however, when he blames asses and sheep for the neglect
of purity, overlooks, I know not how, lynxes and swallows; of which, the
former remove and entirely conceal and bury their excrement, but the
latter teach their young to throw it out of their nest. Moreover, we
do not say that one tree is more ignorant than another, as we say that
a sheep is more stupid than a dog. Nor do we say that one herb is more
timid than another, as we do that a stag is more timid than a lion. For,
as in things which are immoveable, one is not slower than another, and
in things which are not vocal, one is not less vocal than another: thus,
too, in all things in which the power of intellection is wanting, one
thing cannot be said to be more timid, more dull, or more intemperate
than another. For, as these qualities are present differently in their
different participants, they produce in animals the diversities which
we perceive. Nor is it wonderful that man should so much excel other
animals in docility, sagacity, justice, and association. For many brutes
surpass all men in magnitude of body, and celerity of foot, and likewise
in strength of sight, and accuracy of hearing; yet man is not on this
account either deaf, or blind, or powerless. But we run, though slower
than stags, and we see, though not so accurately as hawks; and nature
has not deprived us of strength and magnitude, though our possession
of these is nothing, when compared with the strength and bulk of the
elephant and the camel. _Hence, in a similar manner, we must not say that
brutes, because their intellection is more dull than ours, and because
they reason worse than we do, neither energize discursively, nor, in
short, possess intellection and reason; but it must be admitted that they
possess these, though in an imbecile and turbid manner, just as a dull
and disordered eye participates of sight._

24. Innumerable instances, however, might be adduced in proof of the
natural sagacity of animals, if many things of this kind had not by many
persons been collected and narrated. But this subject must be still
further considered. For it appears that it belongs to the same thing,
whether it be a part or a power, which is naturally adapted to receive
a certain thing, to be also disposed to fall into a preternatural mode
of subsistence, when it becomes mutilated or diseased. Thus, the eye is
adapted to fall into blindness, the leg into lameness, and the tongue
into stammering; but nothing else is subject to such defects. For
blindness does not befall that which is not naturally adapted to see, nor
lameness that which is not adapted to walk; nor is that which is deprived
of a tongue fitted to stammer, or lisp, or be dumb. Hence, neither can
that animal be delirious, or stupid, or insane, in which intellection,
and the discursive energy of reason, are not naturally inherent. For it
is not possible for any thing to be passively affected which does not
possess a power, the passion of which is either privation, or mutilation,
or some other deprivation. Moreover, I have met with mad dogs, and also
rabid horses; and some persons assert that oxen and foxes become mad.
The example of dogs, however, is sufficient for our purpose: for it is a
thing indubitable, and testifies that the animal possesses no despicable
portion of reason and discursive energy, the passion of which, when
disturbed and confounded, is fury and madness. For, when they are thus
affected, we do not see that there is any change in the quality of their
sight or hearing. But as he is absurd who denies that a man is beside
himself, and that his intellectual, reasoning, and recollective powers,
are corrupted, when he is afflicted with melancholy or delirium, (for it
is usually said of those that are insane, that they are not themselves,
but have fallen off from reason): thus, also, he who thinks that mad dogs
suffer any thing else than that of having the power, which is naturally
intellective, and is adapted to reason and recollect, full of tumult and
distortion, so as to cause them to be ignorant of persons most dear to
them, and abandon their accustomed mode of living;—he who thus thinks,
appears either to overlook what is obvious; or, if he really perceives
what takes place, voluntarily contends against the truth. And such are
the arguments adduced by Plutarch in many of his treatises against the
Stoics and Peripatetics.

25. But Theophrastus employs the following reasoning:—Those that are
generated from the same sources, I mean from the same father and mother,
are said by us to be naturally allied to each other. And moreover, we
likewise conceive that those who derive their origin from the same
ancestors that we do, are allied to us, and also that this is the case
with our fellow-citizens, because they participate with us of the same
land, and are united to us by the bonds of association. For we do not
think that the latter are allied to each other, and to us, through
deriving their origin from the same ancestors, unless it should so happen
that the first progenitors of these were the sources of our race, or
were derived from the same ancestors. Hence I think we should say, that
Greek is allied and has an affinity to Greek, and Barbarian to Barbarian,
and all men to each other; for one of these two reasons, either because
they originate from the same ancestors, or because they participate of
the same food, manners, and genus. Thus also we must admit that all
men have an affinity, and are allied to each other. And, moreover, the
principles of the bodies of all animals are naturally the same. I do
not say this with reference to the first elements of their bodies; for
plants also consist of these; but I mean the seed, the flesh, and the
connascent genus of humours which is inherent in animals. But animals
are much more allied to each other, through naturally possessing souls,
which are not different from each other, I mean in desire and anger; and
besides these, in the reasoning faculty, and, above all, in the senses.
But as with respect to bodies, so likewise with respect to souls, some
animals have them more, but others less perfect, yet all of them have
naturally the same principles. And this is evident from the affinity of
their passions. If, however, what we have said is true, viz. that such
is the generation of the manners of animals, all the tribes of them are
indeed intellective, but they differ in their modes of living, and in the
temperature of the first elements of which they consist. And if this be
admitted, the genus of other animals has an affinity, and is allied to
us. For, as Euripides says, they have all of them the same food and the
same spirit, the same purple streams; and they likewise demonstrate that
the common parents of all of them are Heaven and Earth.

26. Hence, since animals are allied to us, if it should appear, according
to Pythagoras, that they are allotted the same soul that we are, he
may justly be considered as impious who does not abstain from acting
unjustly towards his kindred. Nor because some animals are savage, is
their alliance to us to be on this account abscinded. For some men may be
found who are no less, and even more malefic than savage animals to their
neighbours, and who are impelled to injure any one they may meet with, as
if they were driven by a certain blast of their own nature and depravity.
Hence also, we destroy such men; yet we do not cut them off from an
alliance to animals of a mild nature. Thus, therefore, if likewise some
animals are savage, these, as such, are to be destroyed, in the same
manner as men that are savage; but our habitude or alliance to other
and wilder animals is not on this account to be abandoned. But neither
tame nor savage animals are to be eaten; as neither are unjust men. Now,
however, we act most unjustly, destroying, indeed, tame animals, because
some brutes are savage and unjust, and feeding on such as are tame.
With respect to tame animals, however, we act with a twofold injustice,
because, though they are tame, we slay them, and also, because we eat
them. And, in short, the death of these has a reference to the assumption
of them for food.

To these, also, such arguments as the following may be added. For he who
says that the man who extends the just as far as to brutes, corrupts
the just, is ignorant that he does not himself preserve justice, but
increases pleasure, which is hostile to justice. By admitting, therefore,
that pleasure is the end [of our actions], justice is evidently
destroyed. For to whom is it not manifest that justice is increased
through abstinence? For he who abstains from every thing animated,
though he may abstain from such animals as do not contribute to the
benefit of society, will be much more careful not to injure those of his
own species. For he who loves the genus, will not hate any species of
animals; and by how much the greater his love of the genus is[81], by so
much the more will he preserve justice towards a part of the genus, and
that to which he is allied. He, therefore, who admits that he is allied
to all animals, will not injure any animal. But he who confines justice
to man alone, is prepared, like one enclosed in a narrow space, to hurl
from him the prohibition of injustice. So that the Pythagorean is more
pleasing than the Socratic banquet. For Socrates said, that hunger is
the sauce of food; but Pythagoras said, that to injure no one, and to
be exhilarated with justice, is the sweetest sauce; as the avoidance of
animal food, will also be the avoidance of unjust conduct with respect
to food. For God has not so constituted things, that we cannot preserve
ourselves without injuring others; since, if this were the case, he would
have connected us with a nature which is the principle of injustice.
Do not they, however, appear to be ignorant of the peculiarity of
justice, who think that it was introduced from the alliance of men to
each other? For this will be nothing more than a certain philanthropy;
but justice consists in abstaining from injuring any thing which is not
noxious. And our conception of the just man must be formed according
to the latter, and not according to the former mode. Hence, therefore,
since justice consists in not injuring any thing, it must be extended as
far as to every animated nature. On this account, also, the essence of
justice consists in the rational ruling over the irrational, and in the
irrational being obedient to the rational part. For when reason governs,
and the irrational part is obedient to its mandates, it follows, by the
greatest necessity, that man will be innoxious towards every thing. For
the passions being restrained, and desire and anger wasting away, but
reason possessing its proper empire, a similitude to a more excellent
nature [and to deity] immediately follows. But the more excellent nature
in the universe is entirely innoxious, and, through possessing a power
which preserves and benefits all things, is itself not in want of any
thing. We, however, through justice [when we exercise it], are innoxious
towards all things, but, through being connected with mortality, are
indigent of things of a necessary nature. But the assumption of what
is necessary, does not injure even plants, when we take what they cast
off; nor fruits, when we use such of them as are dead; nor sheep, when
through shearing we rather benefit than injure them, and by partaking
of their milk, we in return afford them every proper attention. Hence,
the just man appears to be one who deprives himself of things pertaining
to the body; yet he does not [in reality] injure himself. For, by this
management of his body, and continence, he increases his inward good,
_i.e._ his similitude to God.

27. By making pleasure, therefore, the end of life, that which is truly
justice cannot be preserved; since neither such things as are primarily
useful according to nature, nor all such as are easily attainable,
give completion to felicity. For in many instances, the motions of the
irrational nature, and utility and indigence, have been, and still are
the sources of injustice. For men became indigent [as they pretended]
of animal food, in order that they might preserve, as they said, the
corporeal frame free from molestation, and without being in want of those
things after which the animal nature aspires. But if an assimilation to
divinity is the end of life, an innoxious conduct towards all things
will be in the most eminent degree preserved. As, therefore, he who is
led by his passions is innoxious only towards his children and his wife,
but despises and acts fraudulently towards other persons, since, in
consequence of the irrational part predominating in him, he is excited
to, and astonished about mortal concerns; but he who is led by reason,
preserves an innoxious conduct towards his fellow-citizens, and still
more so towards strangers, and towards all men, through having the
irrational part in subjection, and is therefore more rational and divine
than the former character;—thus also, he who does not confine harmless
conduct to men alone, but extends it to other animals, is more similar
to divinity; and if it was possible to extend it even to plants, he
would preserve this image in a still greater degree. As, however, this
is not possible, we may in this respect lament, with the ancients[82],
the defect of our nature, that we consist of such adverse and discordant
principles, so that we are unable to preserve our divine part
incorruptible, and in all respects innoxious. For we are not unindigent
in all things; the cause of which is generation, and our becoming needy
through the abundant corporeal efflux which we sustain. But want procures
safety and ornament from things of a foreign nature, which are necessary
to the existence of our mortal part. He, therefore, who is indigent of
a greater number of externals, is in a greater degree agglutinated to
penury; and by how much his wants increase, by so much is he destitute
of divinity, and an associate of penury. For that which is similar to
deity, through this assimilation immediately possesses true wealth. But
no one who is [truly] rich and perfectly unindigent injures any thing.
For as long as any one injures another, though he should possess the
greatest wealth, and all the acres of land which the earth contains, he
is still poor, and has want for his intimate associate. On this account,
also, he is unjust, without God, and impious, and enslaved to every kind
of depravity, which is produced by the lapse of the soul into matter,
through the privation of good. Every thing, therefore, is nugatory to any
one, as long as he wanders from the principle of the universe; and he is
indigent of all things, while he does not direct his attention to Porus
[or the source of true abundance]. He likewise yields to the mortal part
of his nature, while he remains ignorant of his real self. But Injustice
is powerful in persuading and corrupting those that belong to her empire,
because she associates with her votaries in conjunction with Pleasure.
As, however, in the choice of lives, he is the more accurate judge who
has obtained an experience of both [the better and the worse kind of
life], than he is who has only experienced one of them; thus also, in
the choice and avoidance of what is proper, he is a safer judge who,
from that which is more, judges of that which is less excellent, than
he who from the less, judges of the more excellent. Hence, he who lives
according to intellect, will more accurately define what is eligible
and what is not, than he who lives under the dominion of irrationality.
For the former has passed through the irrational life, as having from
the first associated with it; but the latter, having had no experience
of an intellectual life, persuades those that resemble himself, and
acts with nugacity, like a child among children. If, however, say our
opponents, all men were persuaded by these arguments, what would become
of us? Is it not evident that we should be happy, injustice, indeed,
being exterminated from men, and justice being conversant with us, in the
same manner as it is in the heavens? But now this question is just the
same as if men should be dubious what the life of the Danaids would be,
if they were liberated from the employment of drawing water in a sieve,
and attempting to fill a perforated vessel. For they are dubious what
would be the consequence if we should cease to replenish our passions and
desires, the whole of which replenishing continually flows away through
the want of real good; since this fills up the ruinous clefts of the soul
more than the greatest of external necessaries. Do you therefore ask, O
man, what we should do? We should imitate those that lived in the golden
age, we should imitate those of that period who were [truly] free. For
with them modesty, Nemesis, and Justice associated, because they were
satisfied with the fruits of the earth.

    The fertile earth for them spontaneous yields
    Abundantly her fruits[83].

But those who are liberated from slavery, obtain for themselves what they
before procured for their masters. In like manner, also, do you, when
liberated from the servitude of the body, and a slavish attention to the
passions produced through the body, as, prior to this, you nourished
them in an all-various manner with externals, so now nourish yourself
all-variously with internal good, justly assuming things which are
[properly] your own, and no longer by violence taking away things which
are foreign [to your true nature and real good].


FOOTNOTES:

[64] This _external reason_ (λογος προφορικος) is speech.

[65] Philostratus relates this of Apollonius, in his Life of him.

[66] The words within the brackets are added from the version of
Felicianus. Hence it appears, that the words εκ των διαφορων μυκηματων
are wanting in the original, after the word ζητει. But this defect is not
noticed by any of the editors.

[67] Porphyry derived this from the treatise of Plutarch, in which it is
investigated whether _land_ are more sagacious than _aquatic_ animals.

[68] This was the opinion of the Stoics; but is most erroneous. For the
supreme divinity, being superessential, transcends even intellect itself,
and much more reason, which is an evolved perception of things; and
this is also the case with every other deity, according to the Platonic
theology, when considered according to his hyparxis, or summit. See my
translation of Proclus on the Theology of Plato.

[69] A musket, or male hawk of a small kind. This bird is mentioned by
Homer, Iliad, XIV. v. 238.

[70] Reason in a divine intellect subsists causally, or in a way better
than reason, and therefore is not a discursive energy (διεξοδικη
ενεργεια), but an evolved cause of things. And though, in a divine soul,
it is discursive, or transitive, yet it differs from our reason in this,
that it perceives the whole of one form at once, and not by degrees, as
we do when we reason.

[71] In the original, Ουτω δ’ εστι λογιστικα ων δρᾳ, κ.τ.λ. But for
λογιστικα, Lipsius proposes to read, λογικα, and Meerman λογικη. There
is, however, no occasion whatever to substitute any other word for
λογιστικα, as, with Platonic writers, το λογιστικον is equivalent to το
λογιζομενον.

[72] See the first book of Herodotus, chap. 159.

[73] The more mystical cause why the Egyptians worshipped animals,
appears to me to be this, that they conceived a _living_ to be preferable
to an _inanimate_ image of divinity. Hence, they reverenced animals
as visible and living resemblances of certain invisible powers of the
Gods.—See Plutarch’s Treatise on Isis and Osiris.

[74] See the Symposiacs of Plutarch, lib. ix. 8.

[75] Odyss. XII. v. 96.

[76] The latter part of this sentence, which in the original is τι ουκ
εδιδαξεν ημας ο δημιουργος οπη χρησιμα τη φυσει γεγονε; Valentinius most
erroneously translates, “quare nos rerum opifex non edocuit, quomodo à
natura in nostros usus facta fuerint?”

[77] _i.e._ The discursive energy of reason.

[78] In the original, μνημην δε καταληψιν αξιωματος παρεληλυθότος, οὗ
το παρον εξ αισθησεως κατεληφθη; but for αξιωματος, I read πραγματος.
Felicianus also appears to have found this reading in his manuscript copy
of this work; for his version of the passage is, “vel memoriam _rei_
præteritæ comprehensionem, quam præsentem sensus perciperat.”

[79] This doubt may, perhaps, be solved, by admitting that brutes have
an imperfect rationality, or the very dregs of the rational faculty, by
which they form a link between men and zoophytes, just as zoophytes are a
link between brutes and merely vegetable substances. Brutes, therefore,
having an imperfect reason, possess only the beginning of perfection.

[80] Plutarch has written a most ingenious treatise on this subject.

[81] In the original, οσῳ μειζον το γενος το των ζωων, τοσουτῳ και προς
το μερος και το οικειον ταυτην διασωσει. On this passage, Reisk observes,
“Forte οσῳ μειζων η οικειωσις προς το γενος το των ζωων, τοσουτῳ
(scilicet μαλλον) και προς το μερος, κ.τ.λ.” But, instead of η οικειωσις,
it appears to me that η φιλια should be substituted.

[82] Porphyry here particularly alludes to Empedocles.

[83] Hesiod. Oper. v. 117.




ON ABSTINENCE FROM ANIMAL FOOD.

BOOK THE FOURTH.


1. In the preceding books, O Castricius, we have nearly answered all the
arguments which in reality defend the feeding on flesh, for the sake of
incontinence and intemperance, and which adduce impudent apologies for
so doing by ascribing a greater indigence to our nature than is fit. Two
particular inquiries, however, still remain; in one of which the promise
of advantage especially deceives those who are corrupted by pleasure.
And, moreover, we shall confute the assertion of our opponents, that no
wise man, nor any nation, has rejected animal food, as it leads those
that hear it to great injustice, through the ignorance of true history;
and we shall also endeavour to give the solutions of the question
concerning advantage, and to reply to other inquiries.

2. But we shall begin from the abstinence of certain nations, in the
narration of which, what is asserted of the Greeks will first claim our
attention, as being the most allied to us, and the most appropriate of
all the witnesses that can be adduced. Among those, therefore, that
have concisely, and at the same time accurately collected an account of
the affairs of the Greeks, is the Peripatetic Dicæarchus[84], who, in
narrating the pristine life of the Greeks, says, the ancients, being
generated with an alliance to the Gods, were naturally most excellent,
and led the best life; so that, when compared to us of the present day,
who consist of an adulterated and most vile matter, they were thought to
be a golden race; and they slew no animal whatever. The truth of this, he
also says, is testified by the poets, who denominate these ancients the
golden race, and assert that every good was present with them.

    The fertile earth for them spontaneous bore
    Of fruits a copious and unenvy’d store;
    In blissful quiet then, unknown to strife,
    The worthy with the worthy passed their life[85].

Which assertions, indeed, Dicæarchus explaining, says, that a life of
this kind was under Saturn; if it is proper to consider it as a thing
that once existed, and that it is a life which has not been celebrated in
vain, and if, laying aside what is extremely fabulous, we may refer it
to a physical narration. All things, therefore, are very properly said
to have been then spontaneously produced; for men did not procure any
thing by labour, because they were unacquainted with the agricultural
art, and, in short, had no knowledge of any other art. This very thing,
likewise, was the cause of their leading a life of leisure, free from
labours and care; and if it is proper to assent to the decision of the
most skilful and elegant of physicians, it was also the cause of their
being liberated from disease. _For there is not any precept of physicians
which more contributes to health, than that which exhorts us not to make
an abundance of excrement_, from which those pristine Greeks always
preserved their bodies pure. For they neither assumed such food as was
stronger than the nature of the body could bear, but such as could be
vanquished by the corporeal nature, nor more than was moderate, on
account of the facility of procuring it, but for the most part less than
was sufficient, on account of its paucity. Moreover, there were neither
any wars among them, nor seditions with each other. For no reward of
contention worth mentioning was proposed as an incentive, for the sake of
which some one might be induced to engage in such dissensions. So that
the principal thing in that life was leisure and rest from necessary
occupations, together with health, peace, and friendship. But to those in
after times, who, through aspiring after things which greatly exceeded
mediocrity, fell into many evils, this pristine life became, as it was
reasonable to suppose it would, desirable. The slender and extemporaneous
food, however, of these first men, is manifested by the saying which
was afterwards proverbially used, _enough of the oak_; this adage being
probably introduced by him who first changed the ancient mode of living.
A pastoral life succeeded to this, in which men procured for themselves
superfluous possessions, and meddled with animals. For, perceiving
that some of them were innoxious, but others malefic and savage, they
tamed the former, but attacked the latter. At the same time, together
with this life, war was introduced. And these things, says Dicæarchus,
are not asserted by us, but by those who have historically discussed
a multitude of particulars. For, as possessions were now of such a
magnitude as to merit attention, some ambitiously endeavoured to obtain
them, by collecting them [for their own use], and calling on others to
do the same, but others directed their attention to the preservation of
them when collected. Time, therefore, thus gradually proceeding, and men
always directing their attention to what appeared to be useful, they
at length became conversant with the third, and agricultural form of
life. And this is what is said by Dicæarchus, in his narration of the
manners of the ancient Greeks, and the blessed life which they then led,
to which abstinence from animal food contributed, no less than other
things. Hence, at that period there was no war, because injustice was
exterminated. But afterwards, together with injustice towards animals,
war was introduced among men, and the endeavour to surpass each other in
amplitude of possessions. On which account also, the audacity of those
is wonderful, who say that abstinence from animals is the mother of
injustice, since both history and experience testify, that together with
the slaughter of animals, war and injustice were introduced.

3. Hence, this being afterwards perceived by the Lacedæmonian Lycurgus,
though the eating of animals then prevailed, yet he so arranged his
polity, as to render food of this kind requisite in the smallest degree.
For the allotted property of each individual did not consist in herds
of oxen, flocks of sheep, or an abundance of goats, horses, and money,
but in the possession of land, which might produce for a man seventy
medimni[86] of barley, and for a woman twelve, and the quantity of
liquid fruits in the same proportion. For he thought that this quantity
of nutriment was sufficient to procure a good habit of body and health,
nothing else to obtain these being requisite. Whence also it is said,
that on returning to his country, after he had been for some time absent
from it, and perceiving, as he passed through the fields, that the corn
had just been reaped, and that the threshing-floors and the heaps were
parallel and equable, he laughed, and said to those that were present,
that all Laconia seemed to belong to many brothers, who had just divided
the land among themselves. He added, that as he had therefore expelled
luxury from Sparta, it would be requisite also to annul the use of money,
both golden and silver, and to introduce iron alone, as its substitute,
and this of a great bulk and weight, and of little value; so that as much
of it as should be worth ten minæ, should require a large receptacle
to hold it, and a cart drawn by two oxen to carry it. But this being
ordained, many species of injustice were exterminated from Lacedæmon.
For who would attempt to thieve, or suffer himself to be corrupted by
gifts, or defraud or plunder another, when it was not possible for him
to conceal what he had taken, nor possess it so as to be envied by
others, nor derive any advantage from coining it? Together with money
also, the useless arts were expelled, the works of the Lacedæmonians
not being saleable. For iron money could not be exported to the other
Greeks, nor was it esteemed by them, but ridiculed. Hence, neither was
it lawful to buy any thing foreign, and which was intrinsically of no
worth, nor did ships laden with merchandise sail into their ports, nor
was any verbal sophist, or futile diviner, or bawd, or artificer of
golden and silver ornaments, permitted to come to Laconia, because there
money was of no use. And thus luxury, being gradually deprived of its
incitements and nourishment, wasted away of itself. Those likewise who
possessed much derived no greater advantage from it, than those who did
not, as no egress was afforded to abundance, since it was so obstructed
by impediments, that it was forced to remain in indolent rest. Hence such
household furniture as was in constant use, and was necessary, such as
beds, chairs, and tables, these were made by them in the best manner;
and the Laconic cup, which was called _cothon_, was, as Critias says,
especially celebrated in military expeditions. For in these expeditions,
the water which they drank, and which was unpleasant to the sight, was
concealed by the colour of the cup; and the turbid part of the water
falling against the lips, through their prominency, that part of it which
was drank, was received in a purer condition by the mouth. As we are
informed, however, by Plutarch, the legislator was the cause of these
things. For the artificers being liberated from useless works, exhibited
the beauty of art in things of a necessary nature.

4. That he might also in a still greater degree oppose luxury, and take
away the ardent endeavour to obtain wealth, he introduced a third, and
most beautiful political institution, viz. that of the citizens eating
and drinking together publicly; so that they might partake of the same
prescribed food in common, and might not be fed at home, reclining on
sumptuous couches, and placed before elegant tables, through the hands
of artificers and cooks, being fattened in darkness, like voracious
animals, and corrupting their bodies, together with their morals, by
falling into every kind of luxury and repletion; as such a mode of
living would require much sleep, hot baths, and abundant quiet, and such
attentions as are paid to the diseased. This indeed was a great thing;
but still greater than this, that, as Theophrastus says, he caused
wealth to be neglected, and to be of no value, through the citizens
eating at common tables, and the frugality of their food. For there was
no use, nor enjoyment of riches; nor, in short, was there any thing to
gratify the sight, or any ostentatious display in the whole apparatus,
because both the poor and the rich sat at the same table. Hence it was
universally said, that in Sparta alone, Plutus was seen to be blind, and
lying like an inanimate and immoveable picture. For it was not possible
for the citizens, having previously feasted at home, to go to the common
tables with appetites already satiated with food. For the rest carefully
observed him who did not eat and drink with them, and reviled him, as
an intemperate person, and as one who conducted himself effeminately
with respect to the common food. Hence these common tables were called
_phiditia_; either as being the causes of friendship and benevolence, as
if they were _philitia_, assuming δ for λ; or as accustoming men [προς
ευτελειαν και φειδω] to frugality, and a slender diet. But the number of
those that assembled at the common table was fifteen, more or less. And
each person brought every month, for the purpose of furnishing the table,
a medimnus of flour, eight choas[87] of wine, five pounds of cheese, two
pounds and a half of figs, and, besides all these, a very little quantity
of money.

5. Hence the children of those who ate thus sparingly and temperately,
came to these common tables, as to schools of temperance, where they
also heard political discourses, and were spectators of liberal sports.
Here, likewise, they learnt to jest acrimoniously, without scurrility,
and to receive, without being indignant, the biting jests of others. For
this appeared to be extremely Laconic, to be able to endure acrimonious
jests; though he who could not endure was permitted to refuse hearing
them, and the scoffer was immediately silent. Such, therefore, was the
frugality of the Lacedæmonians, with respect to diet, though it was
legally instituted for the sake of the multitude. Hence those who came
from this polity are said to have been more brave and temperate, and paid
more attention to rectitude, than those who came from other communities,
which are corrupted both in souls and bodies. And it is evident that
perfect abstinence is adapted to such a polity as this, but to corrupt
communities luxurious food[88]. If, likewise, we direct our attention to
such other nations as regarded equity, mildness, and piety to the Gods,
it will be evident that abstinence was ordained by them, with a view to
the safety and advantage, if not of all, yet at least of some of the
citizens, who, sacrificing to, and worshipping the Gods, on account of
the city, might expiate the sins of the multitude. For, in the mysteries,
what the boy who attends the altar accomplishes, by performing accurately
what he is commanded to do, in order to render the Gods propitious to all
those who have been initiated, as far as to _muesis_[89] [αντι παντων των
μυουμενων], _that_, in nations and cities, priests are able to effect, by
sacrificing for all the people, and through piety inducing the Gods to
be attentive to the welfare of those that belong to them. With respect
to priests, therefore, the eating of all animals is prohibited to some,
but of certain animals to others, whether you consider the customs of the
Greeks or of the barbarians, which are different in different nations.
So that all of them, collectively considered, or existing as one, being
assumed, it will be found that they abstain from all animals. If,
therefore, those who preside over the safety of cities, and to whose care
piety to the Gods is committed, abstain from animals, how can any one
dare to accuse this abstinence as disadvantageous to cities?

6. Chæremon the Stoic, therefore, in his narration of the Egyptian
priests, who, he says, were considered by the Egyptians as philosophers,
informs us, that they chose temples, as the places in which they might
philosophize. For to dwell with the statues of the Gods is a thing
allied to the whole desire, by which the soul tends to the contemplation
of their divinities. And from the divine veneration indeed, which was
paid to them through dwelling in temples, they obtained security, all men
honouring these philosophers, as if they were certain sacred animals.
They also led a solitary life, as they only mingled with other men in
solemn sacrifices and festivals. But at other times the priests were
almost inaccessible to any one who wished to converse with them. For it
was requisite that he who approached to them should be first purified,
and abstain from many things; and this is as it were a common sacred
law respecting the Egyptian priests. But these [philosophic priests],
having relinquished every other employment, and human labours[90], gave
up the whole of their life to the contemplation and worship of divine
natures and to divine inspiration; through the latter, indeed, procuring
for themselves honour, security, and piety; but through contemplation
science; and through both, a certain occult exercise of manners, worthy
of antiquity[91]. For to be always conversant with divine knowledge and
inspiration, removes those who are so from all avarice, suppresses the
passions, and excites to an intellectual life. But they were studious
of frugality in their diet and apparel, and also of continence and
endurance, and in all things were attentive to justice and equity. They
likewise were rendered venerable, through rarely mingling with other
men. For during the time of what are called purifications, they scarcely
mingled with their nearest kindred, and those of their own order, nor
were they to be seen by any one, unless it was requisite for the
necessary purposes of purification. For the sanctuary was inaccessible
to those who were not purified, and they dwelt in holy places for
the purpose of performing divine works; but at all other times they
associated more freely with those who lived like themselves. They did
not, however, associate with any one who was not a religious character.
But they were always seen near to the Gods, or to the statues of the
Gods, the latter of which they were beheld either carrying, or preceding
in a sacred procession, or disposing in an orderly manner, with modesty
and gravity; each of which operations was not the effect of pride, but
an indication of some physical reason. Their venerable gravity also was
apparent from their manners. For their walking was orderly, and their
aspect sedate; and they were so studious of preserving this gravity of
countenance, that they did not even wink, when at any time they were
unwilling to do so; and they seldom laughed, and when they did, their
laughter proceeded no farther than to a smile. But they always kept their
hands within their garments. Each likewise bore about him a symbol,
indicative of the order which he was allotted in sacred concerns; for
there were many orders of priests. Their diet also was slender and
simple. For, with respect to wine, some of them did not at all drink it,
but others drank very little of it, on account of its being injurious to
the nerves, oppressive to the head, an impediment to invention, and an
incentive to venereal desires. In many other things also they conducted
themselves with caution; neither using bread at all in purifications, and
at those times in which they were not employed in purifying themselves,
they were accustomed to eat bread with hyssop, cut into small pieces.
For it is said, that hyssop very much purifies the power of bread. But
they, for the most part, abstained from oil, the greater number of them
entirely; and if at any time they used it with pot-herbs, they took very
little of it, and only as much as was sufficient to mitigate the taste of
the herbs.

7. It was not lawful for them therefore to meddle with the esculent
and potable substances, which were produced out of Egypt, and this
contributed much to the exclusion of luxury from these priests. But
they abstained from all the fish that was caught in Egypt, and from
such quadrupeds as had solid, or many-fissured hoofs, and from such as
were not horned; and likewise from all such birds as were carnivorous.
Many of them, however, entirely abstained from all animals; and in
purifications this abstinence was adopted by all of them, for then they
did not even eat an egg. Moreover, they also rejected other things,
without being calumniated for so doing. Thus, for instance, of oxen,
they rejected the females, and also such of the males as were twins,
or were speckled, or of a different colour, or alternately varied in
their form, or which were now tamed, as having been already consecrated
to labours, and resembled animals that are honoured, or which were the
images of any thing [that is divine], or those that had but one eye,
or those that verged to a similitude of the human form. There are also
innumerable other observations pertaining to the art of those who are
called μοσχοσφραγισται, or who stamp calves with a seal, and of which
books have been composed. But these observations are still more curious
respecting birds; as, for instance, that a turtle should not be eaten;
for it is said that a hawk frequently dismisses this bird after he has
seized it, and preserves its life, as a reward for having had connexion
with it. The Egyptian priests, therefore, that they might not ignorantly
meddle with a turtle of this kind, avoided the whole species of those
birds. And these indeed were certain common religious ceremonies; but
there were different ceremonies, which varied according to the class of
the priests that used them, and were adapted to the several divinities.
But chastity and purifications were common to all the priests. When also
the time arrived in which they were to perform something pertaining
to the sacred rites of religion, they spent some days in preparatory
ceremonies, some indeed forty-two, but others a greater, and others a
less number of days; yet never less than seven days; and during this time
they abstained from all animals, and likewise from all pot-herbs and
leguminous substances, and, above all, from a venereal connexion with
women; for they never at any time had connexion with males. They likewise
washed themselves with cold water thrice every day; viz. when they rose
from their bed, before dinner, and when they betook themselves to sleep.
But if they happened to be polluted in their sleep by the emission of the
seed, they immediately purified their body in a bath. They also used cold
bathing at other times, but not so frequently as on the above occasion.
Their bed was woven from the branches of the palm tree, which they call
_bais_; and their bolster was a smooth semi-cylindric piece of wood. But
they exercised themselves in the endurance of hunger and thirst, and were
accustomed to paucity of food through the whole of their life.

8. This also is a testimony of their continence, that, though they
neither exercised themselves in walking or riding, yet they lived free
from disease, and were sufficiently strong for the endurance of moderate
labours. They bore therefore many burdens in the performance of sacred
operations, and accomplished many ministrant works, which required more
than common strength. But they divided the night into the observation
of the celestial bodies, and sometimes devoted a part of it to offices
of purification; and they distributed the day into the worship of the
Gods, according to which they celebrated them with hymns thrice or
four times, viz. in the morning and evening, when the sun is at his
meridian altitude, and when he is declining to the west. The rest of
their time they devoted to arithmetical and geometrical speculations,
always labouring to effect something, and to make some new discovery,
and, in short, continually exercising their skill. In winter nights also
they were occupied in the same employments, being vigilantly engaged
in literary pursuits, as paying no attention to the acquisition of
externals, and being liberated from the servitude of that bad master,
excessive expense. Hence their unwearied and incessant labour testifies
their endurance, but their continence is manifested by their liberation
from the desire of external good. To sail from Egypt likewise, [i.e.
to quit Egypt,] was considered by them to be one of the most unholy
things, in consequence of their being careful to avoid foreign luxury
and pursuits; for this appeared to them to be alone lawful to those
who were compelled to do so by regal necessities. Indeed, they were
very anxious to continue in the observance of the institutes of their
country, and those who were found to have violated them, though but in a
small degree, were expelled [from the college of the priests]. The true
method of philosophizing, likewise, was preserved by the prophets, by the
_hierostolistæ_[92], and the sacred scribes, and also by the _horologi_,
or calculators of nativities. But the rest of the priests, and of the
pastophori[93], curators of temples, and ministers of the Gods, were
similarly studious of purity, yet not so accurately, and with such great
continence, as the priests of whom we have been speaking. And such are
the particulars which are narrated of the Egyptians, by a man who was
a lover of truth, and an accurate writer, and who among the Stoics
strenuously and solidly philosophized.

9. But the Egyptian priests, through the proficiency which they made
by this exercise, and similitude to divinity, knew that divinity does
not pervade through man alone, and that soul is not enshrined in man
alone on the earth, but that it nearly passes through all animals. On
this account, in fashioning the images of the Gods, they assumed every
animal, and for this purpose mixed together the human form and the forms
of wild beasts, and again the bodies of birds with the body of a man.
For a certain deity was represented by them in a human shape as far as
to the neck, but the face was that of a bird, or a lion, or of some
other animal. And again, another divine resemblance had a human head,
but the other parts were those of certain other animals, some of which
had an inferior, but others a superior position; through which they
manifested, that these [_i.e._ brutes and men], through the decision of
the Gods, communicated with each other, and that tame and savage animals
are nurtured together with us, not without the concurrence of a certain
divine will. Hence also, a lion is worshipped as a God, and a certain
part of Egypt, which is called Nomos, has the surname of Leontopolis
[or the city of the lion], and another is denominated Busiris [from an
ox], and another Lycopolis [or the city of the wolf]. For they venerated
the power of God which extends to all things through animals which
are nurtured together, and which each of the Gods imparts. They also
reverenced water and fire the most of all the elements, as being the
principal causes of our safety. And these things are exhibited by them in
temples; for even now, on opening the sanctuary of Serapis, the worship
is performed through fire and water; he who sings the hymns making a
libation with water, and exhibiting fire, when, standing on the threshold
of the temple, he invokes the God in the language of the Egyptians.
Venerating, therefore, these elements, they especially reverence those
things which largely participate of them, as partaking more abundantly of
what is sacred. But after these, they venerate all animals, and in the
village Anubis they worship a man, in which place also they sacrifice
to him, and victims are there burnt in honour of him on an altar; but
he shortly after only eats that which was procured for him as a man.
Hence, as it is requisite to abstain from man, so, likewise, from other
animals. And farther still, the Egyptian priests, from their transcendent
wisdom and association with divinity, discovered what animals are more
acceptable to the Gods [when dedicated to them] than man. Thus they
found that a hawk is dear to the sun, since the whole of its nature
consists of blood and spirit. It also commiserates man, and laments over
his dead body, and scatters earth on his eyes, in which these priests
believe a solar light is resident. They likewise discovered that a
hawk lives many years, and that, after it leaves the present life, it
possesses a divining power, is most rational and prescient when liberated
from the body, and gives perfection to statues, and moves temples. A
beetle will be detested by one who is ignorant of and unskilled in divine
concerns, but the Egyptians venerate it, as an animated image of the sun.
For every beetle is a male, and emitting its genital seed in a muddy
place, and having made it spherical, it turns round the seminal sphere
in a way similar to that of the sun in the heavens. It likewise receives
a period of twenty-eight days, which is a lunar period. In a similar
manner, the Egyptians philosophize about the ram, the crocodile, the
vulture, and the ibis, and, in short, about every animal; so that, from
their wisdom and transcendent knowledge of divine concerns, they came
at length to venerate all animals[94]. An unlearned man, however, does
not even suspect that they, not being borne along with the stream of the
vulgar who know nothing, and not walking in the path of ignorance, but
passing beyond the illiterate multitude, and that want of knowledge which
befals every one at first, were led to reverence things which are thought
by the vulgar to be of no worth.

10. This also, no less than the above-mentioned particulars, induced
them to believe, that animals should be reverenced [as images of the
Gods], viz. that the soul of every animal, when liberated from the body,
was discovered by them to be rational, to be prescient of futurity, to
possess an oracular power, and to be effective of every thing which man
is capable of accomplishing when separated from the body. Hence they very
properly honoured them, and abstained from them as much as possible.
Since, however, the cause through which the Egyptians venerated the Gods
through animals requires a copious discussion, and which would exceed
the limits of the present treatise, what has been unfolded respecting
this particular is sufficient for our purpose. Nevertheless, this is not
to be omitted, that the Egyptians, when they buried those that were of
noble birth, privately took away the belly and placed it in a chest, and
together with other things which they performed for the sake of the dead
body, they elevated the chest towards the sun, whom they invoked as a
witness; an oration for the deceased being at the same time made by one
of those to whose care the funeral was committed. But the oration which
Euphantus[95] has interpreted from the Egyptian tongue was as follows: “O
sovereign Sun, and all ye Gods who impart life to men, receive me, and
deliver me to the eternal Gods as a cohabitant. For I have always piously
worshipped those divinities which were pointed out to me by my parents as
long as I lived in this age, and have likewise always honoured those who
procreated my body. And, with respect to other men, I have never slain
any one, nor defrauded any one of what he deposited with me, nor have I
committed any other atrocious deed. If, therefore, during my life I have
acted erroneously, by eating or drinking things which it is unlawful
to eat or drink, I have not erred through myself, but through these,”
pointing to the chest in which the belly was contained. And having thus
spoken, he threw the chest into the river [Nile]; but buried the rest of
the body as being pure. After this manner, they thought an apology ought
to be made to divinity for what they had eaten and drank, and for the
insolent conduct which they had been led to through the belly.

11. But among those who are known by us, the Jews, before they first
suffered the subversion of their legal institutes under Antiochus, and
afterwards under the Romans, when also the temple in Jerusalem was
captured, and became accessible to all men to whom, prior to this event,
it was inaccessible, and the city itself was destroyed;—before this took
place, the Jews always abstained from many animals, but peculiarly, which
they even now do, from swine. At that period, therefore, there were three
kinds of philosophers among them. And of one kind, indeed, the Pharisees
were the leaders, but of another, the Sadducees, and of the third,
which appears to have been the most venerable, the Essæans. The mode of
life, therefore, of these third was as follows, as Josephus frequently
testifies in many of his writings. For in the second book of his Judaic
History, which he has completed in seven books, and in the eighteenth
of his Antiquities, which consists of twenty books, and likewise in the
second of the two books which he wrote against the Greeks, he speaks
of these Essæans, and says, that they are of the race of the Jews, and
are in a greater degree than others friendly to one another. They are
averse to pleasures, conceiving them to be vicious, but they are of
opinion that continence, and the not yielding to the passions, constitute
virtue. And they despise, indeed, wedlock, but receiving the children of
other persons, and instructing them in disciplines while they are yet
of a tender age, they consider them as their kindred, and form them to
their own manners. And they act in this manner, not for the purpose of
subverting marriage, and the succession arising from it, but in order
to avoid the lasciviousness of women. They are, likewise, despisers
of wealth, and the participation of external possessions among them
in common is wonderful; nor is any one to be found among them who is
richer than the rest. For it is a law with them, that those who wish to
belong to their sect, must give up their property to it in common; so
that among all of them, there is not to be seen either the abjectness of
poverty, or the insolence of wealth; but the possessions of each being
mingled with those of the rest, there was one property with all of them,
as if they had been brothers. They likewise conceived oil to be a stain
to the body, and that if any one, though unwillingly, was anointed, he
should [immediately] wipe his body. For it was considered by them as
beautiful to be squalid[96], and to be always clothed in white garments.
But curators of the common property were elected by votes, indistinctly
for the use of all. They have not, however, one city, but in each city
many of them dwell together, and those who come among them from other
places, if they are of their sect, equally partake with them of their
possessions, as if they were their own. Those, likewise, who first
perceive these strangers, behave to them as if they were their intimate
acquaintance. Hence, when they travel, they take nothing with them for
the sake of expenditure. But they neither change their garments nor their
shoes, till they are entirely torn, or destroyed by time. They neither
buy nor sell any thing, but each of them giving what he possesses to him
that is in want, receives in return for it what will be useful to him.
Nevertheless, each of them freely imparts to others of their sect what
they may be in want of, without any remuneration.

12. Moreover, they are peculiarly pious to divinity. For before the sun
rises they speak nothing profane, but they pour forth certain prayers to
him which they had received from their ancestors, as if beseeching him
to rise. Afterwards, they are sent by their curators to the exercise of
the several arts in which they are skilled, and having till the fifth
hour strenuously laboured in these arts, they are afterwards collected
together in one place; and there, being begirt with linen teguments, they
wash their bodies with cold water. After this purification, they enter
into their own proper habitation, into which no heterodox person is
permitted to enter. But they being pure, betake themselves to the dining
room, as into a certain sacred fane. In this place, when all of them are
seated in silence, the baker places the bread in order, and the cook
distributes to each of them one vessel containing one kind of eatables.
Prior, however, to their taking the food which is pure and sacred, a
priest prays, and it is unlawful for any one prior to the prayer to taste
of the food. After dinner, likewise, the priest again prays; so that both
when they begin, and when they cease to eat, they venerate divinity.
Afterwards, divesting themselves of these garments as sacred, they
again betake themselves to their work till the evening; and, returning
from thence, they eat and drink in the same manner as before, strangers
sitting with them, if they should happen at that time to be present. No
clamour or tumult ever defiles the house in which they dwell; but their
conversation with each other is performed in an orderly manner; and to
those that are out of the house, the silence of those within it appears
as if it was some terrific mystery. The cause, however, of this quietness
is their constant sobriety, and that with them their meat and drink
is measured by what is sufficient [to the wants of nature]. But those
who are very desirous of belonging to their sect, are not immediately
admitted into it, but they must remain out of it for a year, adopting the
same diet, the Essæans giving them a rake, a girdle, and a white garment.
And if, during that time, they have given a sufficient proof of their
continence, they proceed to a still greater conformity to the institutes
of the sect, and use purer water for the purposes of sanctity; though
they are not yet permitted to live with the Essæans. For after this
exhibition of endurance, their manners are tried for two years more, and
he who after this period appears to deserve to associate with them, is
admitted into their society.

13. Before, however, he who is admitted touches his common food, he
takes a terrible oath, in the first place, that he will piously worship
divinity; in the next place, that he will preserve justice towards men,
and that he will neither designedly, nor when commanded, injure any one;
in the third place, that he will always hate the unjust, but strenuously
assist the just; and in the fourth place, that he will act faithfully
towards all men, but especially towards the rulers of the land, since
no one becomes a ruler without the permission of God; in the fifth
place, that if he should be a ruler, he will never employ his power
to insolently iniquitous purposes, nor will surpass those that are in
subjection to him in his dress, or any other more splendid ornament; in
the sixth place, that he will always love the truth, and be hostile to
liars; in the seventh place, that he will preserve his hands from theft,
and his soul pure from unholy gain[97]; and, in the eighth place, that
he will conceal nothing from those of his sect, nor divulge any thing
to others pertaining to the sect, though some one, in order to compel
him, should threaten him with death. In addition to these things, also,
they swear, that they will not impart the dogmas of the sect to any one
in any other way than that in which they received them; that they will
likewise abstain from robbery[98], and preserve the books of their sect
with the same care as the names of the angels. Such, therefore, are
their oaths. But those among them that act criminally, and are ejected,
perish by an evil destiny. For, being bound by their oaths and their
customs, they are not capable of receiving food from others; but feeding
on herbs, and having their body emaciated by hunger, they perish. Hence
the Essæans, commiserating many of these unfortunate men, receive them
in their last extremities into their society, thinking that they have
suffered sufficiently for their offences in having been punished for
them till they were on the brink of the grave. But they give a rake to
those who intend to belong to their sect, in order that, when they sit
for the purpose of exonerating the belly, they may make a trench a foot
in depth, and completely cover themselves by their garment, in order that
they may not act contumeliously towards the sun by polluting the rays of
the God. And so great, indeed, is their simplicity and frugality with
respect to diet, that they do not require evacuation till the seventh
day after the assumption of food, which day they spend in singing hymns
to God, and in resting from labour. But from this exercise they acquire
the power of such great endurance, that even when tortured and burnt,
and suffering every kind of excruciating pain, they cannot be induced
either to blaspheme their legislator, or to eat what they have not been
accustomed to. And the truth of this was demonstrated in their war with
the Romans. For then they neither flattered their tormentors, nor shed
any tears, but smiled in the midst of their torments, and derided those
that inflicted them, and cheerfully emitted their souls, as knowing that
they should possess them again. For this opinion was firmly established
among them, that their bodies were indeed corruptible, and that the
matter of which they consisted was not stable, but that their souls were
immortal, and would endure for ever, and that, proceeding from the most
subtle ether, they were drawn down by a natural flux, and complicated
with bodies; but that, when they are no longer detained by the bonds of
the flesh, then, as if liberated from a long slavery, they will rejoice,
and ascend to the celestial regions. But from this mode of living, and
from being thus exercised in truth and piety, there were many among them,
as it is reasonable to suppose there would be, who had a foreknowledge of
future events, as being conversant from their youth with sacred books,
different purifications, and the declarations of the prophets. And such
is the order [or sect] of the Essæans among the Jews.

14. All of them, however, were forbidden to eat the flesh of swine,
or fish without scales, which the Greeks call σελαχια, _i.e._
_cartilaginous_; or to eat any animal that has solid hoofs. They were
likewise forbidden not only to refrain from eating, but also from killing
animals that fled to their houses as supplicants. Nor did the legislator
permit them to slay such animals as were parents together with their
young; but ordered them to spare, even in a hostile land, and not put to
death brutes that assist us in our labours. Nor was the legislator afraid
that the race of animals which are not sacrificed, would, through being
spared from slaughter, be so increased in multitude as to produce famine
among men; for he knew, in the first place, that multiparous animals
live but for a short time; and in the next place, that many of them
perish, unless attention is paid to them by men. Moreover, he likewise
knew that other animals would attack those that increased excessively;
of which this is an indication, that we abstain from many animals, such
as lizards, worms, flies, serpents, and dogs, and yet, at the same time,
we are not afraid of perishing through hunger by abstaining from them,
though their increase is abundant. And in the next place, it is not the
same thing to eat and to slay an animal. For we destroy many of the
above-mentioned animals, but we do not eat any of them.

15. Farther still, it is likewise related that the Syrians formerly
abstained from animals, and, on this account, did not sacrifice them
to the Gods; but that afterwards they sacrificed them, for the purpose
of averting certain evils; yet they did not at all admit of a fleshly
diet. In process of time, however, as Neanthes the Cyzicenean and
Asclepiades the Cyprian say, about the era of Pygmalion, who was by birth
a Phœnician, but reigned over the Cyprians, the eating of flesh was
admitted, from an illegality of the following kind, which Asclepiades, in
his treatise concerning Cyprus and Phœnicia, relates as follows:—In the
first place, they did not sacrifice any thing animated to the Gods; but
neither was there any law pertaining to a thing of this kind, because
it was prohibited by natural law. They are said, however, on a certain
occasion, in which one soul was required for another, to have, for the
first time, sacrificed a victim; and this taking place, the whole of the
victim was then consumed by fire. But afterwards, when the victim was
burnt, a portion of the flesh fell on the earth, which was taken by the
priest, who, in so doing, having burnt his fingers, involuntarily moved
them to his mouth, as a remedy for the pain which the burning produced.
Having, therefore, thus tasted of the roasted flesh, he also desired to
eat abundantly of it, and could not refrain from giving some of it to his
wife. Pygmalion, however, becoming acquainted with this circumstance,
ordered both the priest and his wife to be hurled headlong from a steep
rock, and gave the priesthood to another person, who not long after
performing the same sacrifice, and eating the flesh of the victim,
fell into the same calamities as his predecessor. The thing, however,
proceeding still farther, and men using the same kind of sacrifice, and
through yielding to desire, not abstaining from, but feeding on flesh,
the deed was no longer punished. Nevertheless abstinence from fish
continued among the Syrians till the time of Menander: for he says,

    The Syrians for example take, since these
    When by intemperance led of fish they eat,
    Swoln in their belly and their feet become.
    With sack then cover’d, in the public way
    They on a dunghill sit, that by their lowly state,
    The Goddess may, appeas’d, the crime forgive.

16. Among the Persians, indeed, those who are wise in divine concerns,
and worship divinity, are called Magi; for this is the signification
of _Magus_, in the Persian tongue. But so great and so venerable are
these men thought to be by the Persians, that Darius, the son of
Hystaspes, had among other things this engraved on his tomb, that he
had been the master of the Magi. They are likewise divided into three
genera, as we are informed by Eubulus, who wrote the history of Mithra,
in a treatise consisting of many books. In this work he says, that
the first and most learned class of the Magi neither eat nor slay any
thing animated, but adhere to the ancient abstinence from animals. The
second class use some animals indeed [for food], but do not slay any
that are tame. Nor do those of the third class, similarly with other
men, lay their hands on all animals. For the dogma with all of them
which ranks as the first is this, that there is a transmigration of
souls; and this they also appear to indicate in the mysteries of Mithra.
For in these mysteries, obscurely signifying our having something in
common with brutes, they are accustomed to call us by the names of
different animals. Thus they denominate the males who participate in
the same mysteries lions, but the females lionesses, and those who are
ministrant to these rites crows. With respect to their fathers also,
they adopt the same mode. For these are denominated by them eagles and
hawks. And he who is initiated in the Leontic mysteries, is invested
with all-various forms of animals[99]; of which particulars, Pallas, in
his treatise concerning Mithra, assigning the cause, says, that it is
the common opinion that these things are to be referred to the circle
of the zodiac, but that truly and accurately speaking, they obscurely
signify something pertaining to human souls, which, according to the
Persians, are invested with bodies of all-various forms. For the Latins
also, says Eubulus, call some men, in their tongue, boars and scorpions,
lizards, and blackbirds. After the same manner likewise the Persians
denominate the Gods the demiurgic causes of these: for they call Diana a
she-wolf; but the sun, a bull, a lion, a dragon, and a hawk; and Hecate,
a horse, a bull, a lioness, and a dog. But most theologists say that
the name of Proserpine [της φερεφαττης] is derived from nourishing a
ringdove, [παρα το φερβειν την φατταν]: for the ringdove is sacred to
this Goddess[100]. Hence, also, the priests of Maia dedicate to her a
ringdove. And Maia is the same with Proserpine, as being obstetric, and a
nurse[101]. For this Goddess is terrestrial, and so likewise is Ceres.
To this Goddess, also, a cock is consecrated; and on this account those
that are initiated in her mysteries abstain from domestic birds. In the
Eleusinian mysteries, likewise, the initiated are ordered to abstain
from domestic birds, from fishes and beans, pomegranates and apples;
which fruits are as equally defiling to the touch, as a woman recently
delivered, and a dead body. But whoever is acquainted with the nature
of divinely-luminous appearances [φασματα,] knows also on what account
it is requisite to abstain from all birds, and especially for him who
hastens to be liberated from terrestrial concerns, and to be established
with the celestial Gods. Vice, however, as we have frequently said, is
sufficiently able to patronize itself, and especially when it pleads its
cause among the ignorant. Hence, among those that are moderately vicious,
some think that a dehortation of this kind is vain babbling, and,
according to the proverb, the nugacity of old women; and others are of
opinion that it is superstition. But those who have made greater advances
in improbity, are prepared, not only to blaspheme those who exhort to,
and demonstrate the propriety of this abstinence, but calumniate purity
itself as enchantment and pride. They, however, suffering the punishment
of their sins, both from Gods and men, are, in the first place,
sufficiently punished by a disposition [_i.e._ by a depravity] of this
kind. We shall, therefore, still farther make mention of another foreign
nation, renowned and just, and believed to be pious in divine concerns,
and then pass on to other particulars.

17. For the polity of the Indians being distributed into many parts,
there is one tribe among them of men divinely wise, whom the Greeks are
accustomed to call Gymnosophists[102]. But of these there are two sects,
over one of which the Bramins preside, but over the other the Samanæans.
The race of the Bramins, however, receive divine wisdom of this kind by
succession, in the same manner as the priesthood. But the Samanæans are
elected, and consist of those who wish to possess divine knowledge. And
the particulars respecting them are the following, as the Babylonian
Bardesanes[103] narrates, who lived in the times of our fathers, and
was familiar with those Indians who, together with Damadamis, were sent
to Cæsar. All the Bramins originate from one stock; for all of them are
derived from one father and one mother. But the Samanæans are not the
offspring of one family, being, as we have said, collected from every
nation of Indians. A Bramin, however, is not a subject of any government,
nor does he contribute any thing together with others to government.
And with respect to those that are philosophers, among these some dwell
on mountains, and others about the river Ganges. And those that live on
mountains feed on autumnal fruits, and on cows’ milk coagulated with
herbs. But those that reside near the Ganges, live also on autumnal
fruits, which are produced in abundance about that river. The land
likewise nearly always bears new fruit, together with much rice, which
grows spontaneously, and which they use when there is a deficiency of
autumnal fruits. But to taste of any other nutriment, or, in short,
to touch animal food, is considered by them as equivalent to extreme
impurity and impiety. And this is one of their dogmas. They also worship
divinity with piety and purity. They spend the day, and the greater part
of the night, in hymns and prayers to the Gods; each of them having a
cottage to himself, and living, as much as possible, alone. For the
Bramins cannot endure to remain with others, nor to speak much; but when
this happens to take place, they afterwards withdraw themselves, and do
not speak for many days. They likewise frequently fast. But the Samanæans
are, as we have said, elected. When, however, any one is desirous of
being enrolled in their order, he proceeds to the rulers of the city; but
abandons the city or village that he inhabited, and the wealth and all
the other property that he possessed. Having likewise the superfluities
of his body cut off, he receives a garment, and departs to the Samanæans,
but does not return either to his wife or children, if he happens to
have any, nor does he pay any attention to them, or think that they at
all pertain to him. And, with respect to his children indeed, the king
provides what is necessary for them, and the relatives provide for the
wife. And such is the life of the Samanæans. But they live out of the
city, and spend the whole day in conversation pertaining to divinity.
They have also houses and temples, built by the king, in which there are
stewards, who receive a certain emolument from the king, for the purpose
of supplying those that dwell in them with nutriment. But their food
consists of rice, bread, autumnal fruits, and pot-herbs. And when they
enter into their house, the sound of a bell being the signal of their
entrance, those that are not Samanæans depart from it, and the Samanæans
begin immediately to pray. But having prayed, again, on the bell sounding
as a signal, the servants give to each Samanæan a platter, (for two of
them do not eat out of the same dish,) and feed them with rice. And to
him who is in want of a variety of food, a pot-herb is added, or some
autumnal fruit. But having eaten as much as is requisite, without any
delay they proceed to their accustomed employments. All of them likewise
are unmarried, and have no possessions: and so much are both these and
the Bramins venerated by the other Indians, that the king also visits
them, and requests them to pray to and supplicate the Gods, when any
calamity befals the country, or to advise him how to act.

18. But they are so disposed with respect to death, that they unwillingly
endure the whole time of the present life, as a certain servitude to
nature, and therefore they hasten to liberate their souls from the bodies
[with which they are connected]. Hence frequently, when they are seen
to be well, and are neither oppressed, nor driven to desperation by any
evil, they depart from life. And though they previously announce to
others that it is their intention to commit suicide, yet no one impedes
them; but, proclaiming all those to be happy who thus quit the present
life, they enjoin certain things to the domestics and kindred of the
dead: so stable and true do they, and also the multitude, believe the
assertion to be, that souls [in another life] associate with each other.
But as soon as those to whom they have proclaimed that this is their
intention, have heard the mandates given to them, they deliver the body
to fire, in order that they may separate the soul from the body in the
purest manner, and thus they die celebrated by all the Samanæans. For
these men dismiss their dearest friends to death more easily than others
part with their fellow-citizens when going the longest journeys. And they
lament themselves, indeed, as still continuing in life; but they proclaim
those that are dead to be blessed, in consequence of having now obtained
an immortal allotment. Nor is there any sophist, such as there is now
amongst the Greeks, either among these Samanæans, or the above-mentioned
Bramins, who would be seen to doubt and to say, if all men should imitate
you [_i.e._ should imitate those Samanæans who commit suicide], what
would become of us? Nor through these are human affairs confused. For
neither do all men imitate them, and those who have, may be said to
have been rather the causes of equitable legislation, than of confusion
to the different nations of men. Moreover, the law did not compel the
Samanæans and Bramins to eat animal food, but, permitting others to feed
on flesh, it suffered these to be a law to themselves, and venerated
them as being superior to law. Nor did the law subject these men to the
punishment which it inflicts, as if they were the primary perpetrators of
injustice, but it reserved this for others. Hence, to those who ask, what
would be the consequence if all men imitated such characters as these,
the saying of Pythagoras must be the answer; that if all men were kings,
the passage through life would be difficult, yet regal government is not
on this account to be avoided. And [we likewise say] that if all men were
worthy, no administration of a polity would be found in which the dignity
that probity merits would be preserved. Nevertheless, no one would be
so insane as not to think that all men should earnestly endeavour to
become worthy characters. Indeed, the law grants to the vulgar many
other things [besides a fleshly diet], which, nevertheless, it does not
grant to a philosopher, nor even to one who conducts the affairs of
government in a proper manner. For it does not receive every artist into
the administration, though it does not forbid the exercise of any art,
nor yet men of every pursuit. But it excludes those who are occupied in
vile and illiberal arts[104], and, in short, all those who are destitute
of justice and the other virtues, from having any thing to do with the
management of public affairs. Thus, likewise, the law does not forbid
the vulgar from associating with harlots, on whom at the same time it
imposes a fine; but thinks that it is disgraceful and base for men that
are moderately good to have any connexion with them. Moreover, the law
does not prohibit a man from spending the whole of his life in a tavern,
yet at the same time this is most disgraceful even to a man of moderate
worth. It appears, therefore, that the same thing must also be said with
respect to diet. For that which is permitted to the multitude, must not
likewise be granted to the best of men. For the man who is a philosopher,
should especially ordain for himself those sacred laws which the Gods,
and men who are followers of the Gods, have instituted. But the sacred
laws of nations and cities appear to have ordained for sacred men purity,
and to have interdicted them animal food. They have also forbidden the
multitude to eat certain animals, either from motives of piety, or on
account of some injury which would be produced by the food. So that it is
requisite either to imitate priests, or to be obedient to the mandates of
all legislators; but, in either way, he who is perfectly legal and pious
ought to abstain from all animals. For if some who are only partially
pious abstain from certain animals, he who is in every respect pious will
abstain from all animals.

19. I had almost, however, forgotten to adduce what is said by Euripides,
who asserts, that the prophets of Jupiter in Crete abstained from
animals. But what is said by the chorus to Minos on this subject, is as
follows:

    Sprung from Phœnicia’s royal line,
    Son of Europa, nymph divine,
    And mighty Jove, thy envy’d reign
    O’er Crete extending, whose domain
    Is with a hundred cities crown’d—
    I leave yon consecrated ground,
    Yon fane, whose beams the artist’s toil
    With cypress, rooted from the soil,
    Hath fashion’d. In the mystic rites
    Initiated, life’s best delights
    I place in chastity alone,
    Midst Night’s dread orgies wont to rove,
    The priest of Zagreus[105] and of Jove;
    Feasts of crude flesh I now decline,
    And wave aloof the blazing pine
    To Cybele, nor fear to claim
    Her own Curete’s hallow’d name;
    Clad in a snowy vest I fly
    Far from the throes of pregnancy,
    Never amidst the tombs intrude,
    And slay no animal for food.

20. For holy men were of opinion that purity consisted in a thing not
being mingled with its contrary, and that mixture is defilement. Hence,
they thought that nutriment should be assumed from fruits, and not
from dead bodies, and that we should not, by introducing that which
is animated to our nature, defile what is administered by nature. But
they conceived, that the slaughter of animals, as they are sensitive,
and the depriving them of their souls, is a defilement to the living;
and that the pollution is much greater, to mingle a body which was once
sensitive, but is now deprived of sense, with a sensitive and living
being. Hence universally, the purity pertaining to piety consists in
rejecting and abstaining from many things, and in an abandonment of
such as are of a contrary nature, and the assumption of such as are
appropriate and concordant. On this account, venereal connexions are
attended with defilement. For in these, a conjunction takes place of
the female with the male; and the seed, when retained by the woman, and
causing her to be pregnant, defiles the soul, through its association
with the body; but when it does not produce conception, it pollutes, in
consequence of becoming a lifeless mass. The connexion also of males with
males defiles, because it is an emission of seed as it were into a dead
body, and because it is contrary to nature. And, in short, all venery,
and emissions of the seed in sleep, pollute, because the soul becomes
mingled with the body, and is drawn down to pleasure. The passions of
the soul likewise defile, through the complication of the irrational
and effeminate part with reason, the internal masculine part. For, in a
certain respect, defilement and pollution manifest the mixture of things
of an heterogeneous nature, and especially when the abstersion of this
mixture is attended with difficulty. Whence, also, in tinctures which are
produced through mixture, one species being complicated with another,
this mixture is denominated a defilement.

    As when some woman with a lively red
    Stains the pure iv’ry——

says Homer[106]. And again, painters call the mixtures of colours,
corruptions. It is usual, likewise, to denominate that which is unmingled
and pure, incorruptible, and to call that which is genuine, unpolluted.
For water, when mingled with earth, is corrupted, and is not genuine.
But water which is diffluent, and runs with tumultuous rapidity, leaves
behind in its course the earth which it carries in its stream.

    When from a limpid and perennial fount
    It defluous runs——

as Hesiod says[107]. For such water is salubrious, because it is
uncorrupted and unmixed. The female, likewise, that does not receive
into herself the exhalation of seed, is said to be uncorrupted. So that
the mixture of contraries is corruption and defilement. For the mixture
of dead with living bodies, and the insertion of beings that were once
living and sentient into animals, and of dead into living flesh, may be
reasonably supposed to introduce defilement and stains to our nature;
just, again, as the soul is polluted when it is invested with the body.
Hence, he who is born, is polluted by the mixture of his soul with body;
and he who dies, defiles his body, through leaving it a corpse, different
and foreign from that which possesses life. The soul, likewise, is
polluted by anger and desire, and the multitude of passions of which in
a certain respect diet is a co-operating cause. But as water which flows
through a rock is more uncorrupted than that which runs through marshes,
because it does not bring with it much mud; thus, also, the soul which
administers its own affairs in a body that is dry, and is not moistened
by the juices of foreign flesh, is in a more excellent condition, is
more uncorrupted, and is more prompt for intellectual energy. Thus too,
it is said, that the thyme which is the driest and the sharpest to the
taste, affords the best honey to bees. The dianoëtic, therefore, or
discursive power of the soul, is polluted; or rather, he who energizes
dianoëtically, when this energy is mingled with the energies of either
the imaginative or doxastic power. But purification consists in a
separation from all these, and the wisdom which is adapted to divine
concerns, is a desertion of every thing of this kind. The proper
nutriment, likewise, of each thing, is that which essentially preserves
it. Thus you may say, that the nutriment of a stone is the cause of its
continuing to be a stone, and of firmly remaining in a lapideous form;
but the nutriment of a plant is that which preserves it in increase
and fructification; and of an animated body, that which preserves its
composition. It is one thing, however, to nourish, and another to fatten;
and one thing to impart what is necessary, and another to procure what is
luxurious. Various, therefore, are the kinds of nutriment, and various
also is the nature of the things that are nourished. And it is necessary,
indeed, that all things should be nourished, but we should earnestly
endeavour to fatten our most principal parts. Hence, the nutriment of
the rational soul is that which preserves it in a rational state. But
this is intellect; so that it is to be nourished by intellect; and we
should earnestly endeavour that it may be fattened through this, rather
than that the flesh may become pinguid through esculent substances. For
intellect preserves for us eternal life, but the body when fattened
causes the soul to be famished, through its hunger after a blessed life
not being satisfied, increases our mortal part, since it is of itself
insane, and impedes our attainment of an immortal condition of being.
It likewise defiles by corporifying the soul, and drawing her down to
that which is foreign to her nature. And the magnet, indeed, imparts,
as it were, a soul to the iron which is placed near it; and the iron,
though most heavy, is elevated, and runs to the spirit of the stone.
Should he, therefore, who is suspended from incorporeal and intellectual
deity, be anxiously busied in procuring food which fattens the body,
that is an impediment to intellectual perception? Ought he not rather,
by contracting what is necessary to the flesh into that which is little
and easily procured, be _himself_ nourished, by adhering to God more
closely than the iron to the magnet? I wish, indeed, that our nature
was not so corruptible, and that it were possible we could live free
from molestation, even without the nutriment derived from fruits. O
that, as Homer[108] says, we were not in want either of meat or drink,
that we might be truly immortal!—the poet in thus speaking beautifully
signifying, that food is the auxiliary not only of life, but also of
death. If, therefore, we were not in want even of vegetable aliment, we
should be by so much the more blessed, in proportion as we should be more
immortal. But now, being in a mortal condition, we render ourselves, if
it be proper so to speak, still more mortal, through becoming ignorant
that, by the addition of this mortality, the soul, as Theophrastus says,
does not only confer a great benefit on the body by being its inhabitant,
but gives herself wholly to it[109]. Hence, it is much to be wished
that we could easily obtain the life celebrated in fables, in which
hunger and thirst are unknown; so that, by stopping the every-way-flowing
river of the body, we might in a very little time be present with the
most excellent natures, to which he who accedes, since deity is there,
is himself a God. But how is it possible not to lament the condition of
the generality of mankind, who are so involved in darkness as to cherish
their own evil, and who, in the first place, hate themselves, and him
who truly begot them, and afterwards, those who admonish them, and call
on them to return from ebriety to a sober condition of being? Hence,
dismissing things of this kind, will it not be requisite to pass on to
what remains to be discussed?

21. Those then who oppose the Nomades, or Troglodytæ[110], or
Ichthyophagi, to the legal institutes of the nations which we have
adduced, are ignorant that these people were brought to the necessity of
eating animals through the infecundity of the region they inhabit, which
is so barren, that it does not even produce herbs, but only shores and
sands. And this necessity is indicated by their not being able to make
use of fire, through the want of combustible materials; but they dry
their fish on rocks, or on the shore. And these indeed live after this
manner from necessity. There are, however, certain nations whose manners
are rustic, and who are naturally savage; but it is not fit that those
who are equitable judges should, from such instances as these, calumniate
human nature. For thus we should not only be dubious whether it is proper
to eat animals, but also, whether we may not eat men, and adopt all
other savage manners. It is related, therefore, that the Massagetæ and
the Derbices consider those of their kindred to be most miserable who
die spontaneously. Hence, preventing their dearest friends from dying
naturally, they slay them when they are old, and eat them. The Tibareni
hurl from rocks their nearest relatives, even while living, when they
are old. And with respect to the Hyrcani and Caspii, the one exposed the
living, but the other the dead, to be devoured by birds and dogs. But
the Scythians bury the living with the dead, and cut their throats on
the pyres of the dead by whom they were especially beloved. The Bactrii
likewise cast those among them that are old, even while living, to the
dogs. And Stasanor, who was one of Alexander’s prefects, nearly lost his
government through endeavouring to destroy this custom. As, however, we
do not on account of these examples subvert mildness of conduct towards
men, so neither should we imitate those nations that feed on flesh
through necessity, but we should rather imitate the pious, and those who
consecrate themselves to the Gods. For Democrates[111] says, that to live
badly, and not prudently, temperately, and piously, is not to live in
reality[112], but to die for a long time.

22. It now remains that we should adduce a few examples of certain
individuals, as testimonies in favour of abstinence from animal food.
For the want of these was one of the accusations which were urged
against us. We learn, therefore, that Triptolemus was the most ancient
of the Athenian legislators; of whom Hermippus[113], in the second book
of his treatise on Legislators, writes as follows: “It is said, that
Triptolemus established laws for the Athenians. And the philosopher
Xenocrates asserts, that three of his laws still remain in Eleusis,
which are these, Honour your parents; Sacrifice to the Gods from the
fruits of the earth; Injure not animals.” Two of these, therefore, he
says, are properly instituted. For it is necessary that we should as
much as possible recompense our parents for the benefits which they have
conferred on us; and that we should offer to the Gods the first-fruits
of the things useful to our life, which they have imparted to us. But
with respect to the third law, he is dubious as to the intention of
Triptolemus, in ordering the Athenians to abstain from animals. Was
it, says he, because he thought it was a dire thing to slay kindred
natures, or because he perceived it would happen, that the most useful
animals would be destroyed by men for food? Wishing, therefore, to make
our life as mild as possible, he endeavoured to preserve those animals
that associate with men, and which are especially tame. Unless, indeed,
because having ordained that men should honour the Gods by offering to
them first-fruits, he therefore added this third law, conceiving that
this mode of worship would continue for a longer time, if sacrifices
through animals were not made to the Gods. But as many other causes,
though not very accurate, of the promulgation of these laws, are assigned
by Xenocrates, thus much from what has been said is sufficient for our
purpose, that abstinence from animals was one of the legal institutes
of Triptolemus. Hence, those who afterwards violated this law, being
compelled by great necessity, and involuntary errors, fell, as we
have shown, into this custom of slaughtering and eating animals. The
following, also, is mentioned as a law of Draco: “Let this be an eternal
_sacred law_[114] to the inhabitants of Attica, and let its authority
be predominant for ever; viz. that the Gods, and indigenous Heroes, be
worshipped publicly, conformably to the laws of the country, delivered by
our ancestors; and also, that they be worshipped privately, according to
the ability of each individual, in conjunction with auspicious words, the
firstlings of fruits, and annual cakes. So that this law ordains, that
divinity should be venerated by the first offerings of fruits which are
used by men, and cakes made of the fine flour of wheat.”[115]


FOOTNOTES:

[84] There were many celebrated men of this name among the ancients,
concerning which vid. Fabric. Biblioth. Græc. L. III. c. 11.

[85] These lines are from Hesiod. Oper. 116. The different ages, however,
of mankind, which are celebrated by Hesiod in his Works and Days,
signify the different lives which the individuals of the human species
pass through; and as Proclus on Hesiod beautifully observes, they may
be comprehended in this triad, the _golden_, the _silver_, and the
_brazen_ age. But by the _golden_ age an intellectual life is implied.
For such a life is pure, impassive, and free from sorrow; and of this
impassivity and purity, gold is an image, through never being subject to
rust or putrefaction. Such a life, too, is very properly said to be under
Saturn, because Saturn is an _intellectual_ God, or a God characterised
by intellect. By the _silver_ age, a rustic and natural life is implied,
in which the attention of the rational soul is entirely directed to the
care of the body, but without proceeding to extreme depravity. And by
the _brazen_ age, a dire, tyrannic, and cruel life is implied, which is
entirely passive, and proceeds to the very extremity of vice. The order,
also, of these metals, harmonizes, as Proclus observes, with that of the
lives. “For,” says he, “_gold_ is _solar-form_, because the sun is solely
immaterial light. But _silver_ is _lunar-form_, because the moon partakes
of shadow, just as silver partakes of rust. And _brass_ is _earthly_, so
far as not having a nature similar to a lucid body; it is replete with
abundance of corruption.”

[86] The medimnus was a measure containing six bushels.

[87] An Attic measure, containing six Attic pints.

[88] In the original, και δηλον ως τοιαυτῃ πολιτειᾳ οικειον, το της
αποχης της παντελους, ταις δε διεφθαρμεναις, το της βρωσεως. But the
latter part of this sentence is evidently defective, though the defect
is not noticed either by Valentinus, or Reiske, or Rhoer. It appears
therefore to me, that της τρυφης is wanting; so that for το της βρωσεως,
we should read το της τρυφης της βρωσεως. And my conjecture is justified
by the version of Felicianus, which is, “Huic autem abstinentiam, cæteris
_luxuriam_ victus fuisse peculiarem perspicuum est.”

[89] Those who, in being initiated, _closed the eyes_, which _muesis_
signifies, no longer (says Hermias in Phædrum) received by sense those
divine mysteries, but with the pure soul itself. See my Dissertation on
the Eleusinian and Bacchic Mysteries.

[90] In the original, και πορους ανθρωπινους; but for πορους I read
πονους, and Felicianus appears to have found the same reading in his MS.;
for his version is, “laboribusque humanis.” Neither Reisk, however, nor
Rhoer, have at all noticed the word πορους as improper in this place.

[91] Much is related about the Egyptian priests by Herodotus, lib. ii.
37. With respect to Chæremon, the decisions of the ancients concerning
him are very discordant.

[92] _i.e._ Those to whose care the sacred vestments were committed.

[93] These were so denominated from carrying the little receptacles in
which the images of the Gods were contained.

[94] See on this subject Plutarch’s excellent treatise of Isis and Osiris.

[95] Fabricius is of opinion, that this _Euphantus_ is the same with
the _Ecphantus_ mentioned by Iamblichus (in Vit. Pyth.) as one of the
Pythagoreans. Vid. Fabric. Bibl. Græc. lib. ii. c. 13.

[96] This is not wonderful; for the Jews appear to have been always
negligent of cleanliness. The intelligent reader will easily perceive
that there is some similitude between these Essæans and the ancient
Pythagoreans, but that the latter were infinitely superior to the former.
See my translation of Iamblichus’ Life of Pythagoras.

[97] This was a very necessary oath for these Essæans to take; as the
Jews in general, if we may believe Tacitus and other ancient historians,
were always a people immoderately addicted to gain.

[98] As the Essæans appear to have been an exception to the rest of the
Jews, the reason is obvious why they took this oath.

[99] Similar to this was the garment with which Apuleius was invested
after his initiation into the mysteries of Isis, and which he describes
as follows:—“There [_i.e._ on a wooden throne] I sat conspicuous, in a
garment which was indeed linen, but was elegantly painted. A precious
cloak also depended from my shoulders behind my back, as far as to my
heels. Nevertheless, to whatever part of me you directed your view,
you might see that I was remarkable by the animals which were painted
round my vestment, in various colours. Here were Indian dragons, there
Hyperborean griffins, which the other hemisphere generates in the form of
a winged animal. Men devoted to the service of divinity, call this cloak
the Olympic garment.”—See Book II. of my translation of the Metamorphosis
of Apuleius.

[100] Proclus, however, in his Scholia on the Cratylus of Plato, gives
a much more theological account of the derivation of the name of
Proserpine, as follows:—“Socrates now delivers these three vivific monads
in a consequent order, viz. Ceres, Juno, Proserpine; calling the first
the mother, the second the sister, and the third the daughter of the
Demiurgus [Jupiter]. All of them, however, are partakers of the whole
of fabrication; the first in an exempt manner, and intellectually; the
second in a fontal manner, and, at the same time, in a way adapted to a
principle [αρχικως]; and the third in a manner adapted to a principle and
a leader [αρχικως και ηγεμονικως].

“Of these Goddesses the last is allotted triple powers, and impartibly
and uniformly comprehends three monads of Gods. But she is called Core
[κορη] through the purity of her essence, and her undefiled transcendency
in her generations. She also possesses a first, middle, and last empire;
and according to her summit, indeed, she is called Diana by Orpheus; but,
according to her middle, Proserpine; and according to the extremity of
the order, Minerva. Likewise, according to an essence transcending the
other powers of this triple vivific order, the dominion of Hecate is
established; but according to a middle power, and which is generative
of wholes, that of soul; and, according to intellectual conversion,
that of Virtue[A]. Ceres, therefore, subsisting on high, and among the
supermundane Gods, uniformly extends this triple order of divinities;
and, together with Jupiter, generates Bacchus, who impartibly presides
over partible fabrication. But beneath, in conjunction with Pluto, she
is particularly beheld according to the middle characteristic: for it is
this which, proceeding every where, imparts vivification to the last of
things. Hence she is called Proserpine, because she especially associates
with Pluto, and, together with him, distributes in an orderly manner the
extremities of the universe. And, according to her extremities, indeed,
she is said to be a virgin, and to remain undefiled; but, according to
her middle, to be conjoined with Hades, and to beget the Furies in the
subterranean regions. She, therefore, is also called Ceres, but after
another manner than the supermundane and ruling Ceres. For the one is
the connective unity of the three vivific principles; but the other
is the middle of them, in herself possessing the peculiarities of the
extremes. Hence, in the Proserpine conjoined with Pluto, you will find
the peculiarities of Hecate and Minerva; but these extremes subsist in
her occultly, while the peculiarity of the middle shines forth, and that
which is characteristic of ruling soul, which in the supermundane Ceres
was of a _ruling_[B] nature, but here subsists according to a mundane
peculiarity.”

Proclus farther observes, “that Proserpine is denominated either through
judging of forms, and separating them from each other, thus obscurely
signifying the subversion of slaughter[C], (δια το κρινειν τα ειδη, και
χωριζειν αλληλων ως του φονου την αναιρεσιν αινιττομενον,) or through
separating souls perfectly from bodies, through a conversion to things
on high, which is the most fortunate slaughter and death to such as are
worthy of it. (ἢ δια το χωριζειν τας ψυχας τελεως εκ των σωματων δια της
προς τα ανω επιστροφης, οπερ εστιν ευτυχεστατος φονος και θανατος τοις
αξιουμενοις ταυτου.) But the name φερεφαττα, _Pherephatta_, is adapted
to Proserpine, according to a contact with generation; but according
to wisdom and counsel, to Minerva. At the same time, however, all the
appellations by which she is distinguished, are adapted to the perfection
of soul. On this account, also, she is called Proserpine, and not by the
names of the extremes; since that which was ravished by Pluto, is this
middle deity; the extremes at the same time being firmly established in
themselves; according to which Ceres is said to remain a virgin.”

[A] Proclus says this conformably to the theology of the Chaldeans; for,
according to that theology, the first monad of the vivific triad is
_Hecate_, the second _Soul_, and the third _Virtue_.

[B] That is, of a supermundane nature; for the _ruling_ are the
_supermundane_ Gods.

[C] Proclus here alludes to the war which subsists among forms through
their union with matter, and which Proserpine subverts by separating them
from each other.

[101] The first subsistence of Maia, who, according to the Orphic
theology, is the same with the Goddess Night, is at the summit of _the
intelligible, and at the same time intellectual_ order, and is wholly
absorbed in the intelligible. As we are also informed by Proclus (in
Cratylum), “She is the paradigm of Ceres. For immortal Night is the
nurse of the Gods [according to Orpheus]. Night, however, is the cause
of aliment intelligibly: for the intelligible is, as the Chaldean Oracle
says, the aliment of the intellectual orders of Gods. But Ceres, first
of all, separates the two kinds of aliment [nectar and ambrosia] in the
Gods.” He adds, “Hence our sovereign mistress [δεσποινα], Ceres, not only
generates life, but that which gives perfection to life; and this from
supernal natures, to such as are last. For _virtue is the perfection of
souls_.”

[102] Concerning the Indian philosophers, see the second book of Diodorus
Siculus.

[103] This is the Bardesanes who lived in the time of Marcus Antoninus,
and who wrote a treatise on the Lake of Probation in India, which is
mentioned by Porphyry in his fragment De Styge, preserved by Stobæus.

[104] Βαναυσοι, _i.e._ dirty mechanics and bellows-blowers,
an appellation by which Plato in his Rivals designates the
_experimentalists_.

[105] Zagreus is an epithet of Bacchus. Wodhull, however, from whose
translation of Euripides the above lines are taken, is greatly mistaken
in saying, that “it is evident from the hymns of Orpheus that Zagreus
was a name given to Bacchus at his sacred rites.” For the word Ζαγρευς
(Zagreus) is not to be found either in the hymns of Orpheus, or in any
other of the Orphic writings that are extant.

[106] Iliad, IV. v. 141.

[107] Oper. et Dies, 595.

[108] Iliad, V. v. 341.

[109] In the original, ου πολυ το ενοικιον, ως φησι που Θεοφραστος, τῳ
σωματι διδουσης της ψυχης, κ.τ.λ. But for ου πολυ το ενοικιον, it appears
to me to be necessary to read, ου μονον πολυ το ενοικιον, κ.τ.λ.

[110] Vid. Diod. Sic. lib. iii. 32.

[111] Reisk says, that he does not know who this Democrates is; but there
can, I think, be no doubt of its being the Pythagorean of that name,
whose Golden Sentences are extant in the Opuscula Mythologica of Gale, of
which see Mr. Bridgman’s translation.

[112] In the original, ου κακως ζῃν ειναι. But for ου κακως, I read, ουκ
οντως. For without this emendation, Democrates will contradict himself.

[113] This Hermippus is also cited by Diogenes Laertius in Pyth.

[114] In the original, θεσμος, which, as we are informed by Proclus,
signifies _divine order, and a uniform boundary_.

[115] This book is evidently imperfect, because there are wanting at the
end examples of illustrious Greeks and Romans, who, from the most remote
antiquity, abstained from animal food. And this was also obvious to Reisk.




ON THE CAVE OF THE NYMPHS, IN THE THIRTEENTH BOOK OF THE ODYSSEY.


1. What does Homer obscurely signify by the cave in Ithaca, which he
describes in the following verses?

    “High at the head a branching olive grows,
    And crowns the pointed cliffs with shady boughs.
    A cavern pleasant, though involv’d in night,
    Beneath it lies, the Naiades’ delight:
    Where bowls and urns of workmanship divine
    And massy beams in native marble shine;
    On which the Nymphs amazing webs display,
    Of purple hue, and exquisite array.
    The busy bees within the urns secure
    Honey delicious, and like nectar pure.
    Perpetual waters through the grotto glide,
    A lofty gate unfolds on either side;
    That to the north is pervious to mankind;
    The sacred south t’ immortals is consign’d.”

That the poet, indeed, does not narrate these particulars from historical
information, is evident from this, that those who have given us a
description of the island, have, as Cronius[116] says, made no mention
of such a cave being found in it. This likewise, says he, is manifest,
that it would be absurd for Homer to expect, that in describing a cave
fabricated merely by poetical license, and thus artificially opening a
path to Gods and men in the region of Ithaca, he should gain the belief
of mankind. And it is equally absurd to suppose, that nature herself
should point out, in this place, one path for the descent of all mankind,
and again another path for all the Gods. For, indeed, the whole world is
full of Gods and men: but it is impossible to be persuaded, that in the
Ithacensian cave men descend, and Gods ascend. Cronius, therefore, having
premised thus much, says, that it is evident, not only to the wise but
also to the vulgar, that the poet, under the veil of allegory, conceals
some mysterious signification; thus compelling others to explore what
the gate of men is, and also what is the gate of the Gods: what he means
by asserting that this cave of the Nymphs has two gates; and why it is
both pleasant and obscure, since darkness is by no means delightful,
but is rather productive of aversion and horror. Likewise, what is the
reason why it is not simply said to be the cave of the Nymphs, but it is
accurately added, of the Nymphs which are called Naiades? Why, also, is
the cave represented as containing bowls and amphoræ, when no mention is
made of their receiving any liquor, but bees are said to deposit their
honey in these vessels as in hives? Then, again, why are oblong beams
adapted to weaving placed here for the Nymphs; and these not formed from
wood, or any other pliable matter, but from stone, as well as the amphoræ
and bowls? Which last circumstance is, indeed, less obscure; but that, on
these stony beams, the Nymphs should weave purple garments, is not only
wonderful to the sight, but also to the auditory sense. For who would
believe that Goddesses weave garments in a cave involved in darkness,
and on stony beams; especially while he hears the poet asserting, that
the purple webs of the Goddesses were visible. In addition to these
things likewise, this is admirable, that the cave should have a twofold
entrance; one made for the descent of men, but the other for the ascent
of Gods. And again, that the gate, which is pervious by men, should be
said to be turned towards the north wind, but the portal of the Gods to
the south; and why the poet did not rather make use of the west and the
east for this purpose; since nearly all temples have their statues and
entrances turned towards the east; but those who enter them look towards
the west, when standing with their faces turned towards the statues,
they honour and worship the Gods. Hence, since this narration is full of
such obscurities, it can neither be a fiction casually devised for the
purpose of procuring delight, nor an exposition of a topical history; but
something allegorical must be indicated in it by the poet, who likewise
mystically places an olive near the cave. All which particulars the
ancients thought very laborious to investigate and unfold; and we, with
their assistance, shall now endeavour to develope the secret meaning
of the allegory. Those persons, therefore, appear to have written very
negligently about the situation of the place, who think that the cave,
and what is narrated concerning it, are nothing more than a fiction of
the poet. But the best and most accurate writers of geography, and among
these Artemidorus the Ephesian, in the fifth book of his work, which
consists of eleven books, thus writes: “The island of Ithaca, containing
an extent of eighty-five stadia[117], is distant from Panormus, a port
of Cephalenia, about twelve stadia. It has a port named Phorcys, in
which there is a shore, and on that shore a cave, in which the Phæacians
are reported to have placed Ulysses.” This cave, therefore, will not be
entirely an Homeric fiction. But whether the poet describes it as it
really is, or whether he has added something to it of his own invention,
nevertheless the same inquiries remain; whether the intention of the
poet is investigated, or of those who founded the cave. For, neither did
the ancients establish temples without fabulous symbols, nor does Homer
rashly narrate the particulars pertaining to things of this kind. But how
much the more any one endeavours to show that this description of the
cave is not an Homeric fiction, but prior to Homer was consecrated to the
Gods, by so much the more will this consecrated cave be found to be full
of ancient wisdom. And on this account it deserves to be investigated,
and it is requisite that its symbolical consecration should be amply
unfolded into light.

2. The ancients, indeed, very properly consecrated a cave to the world,
whether assumed collectively, according to the whole of itself, or
separately, according to its parts. Hence they considered earth as a
symbol of that matter of which the world consists; on which account
some thought that matter and earth are the same; through the cave
indicating the world, which was generated from matter. For caves are,
for the most part, spontaneous productions, and connascent with the
earth, being comprehended by one uniform mass of stone; the interior
parts of which are concave, but the exterior parts are extended over an
indefinite portion of land. And the world being spontaneously produced,
[_i.e._ being produced by no external, but from an internal cause,]
and being also self-adherent, is allied to matter; which, according to
a secret signification, is denominated a stone and a rock, on account
of its sluggish and repercussive nature with respect to form: the
ancients, at the same time, asserting that matter is infinite through
its privation of form. Since, however, it is continually flowing, and
is of itself destitute of the supervening investments of form, through
which it participates of _morphe_[118], and becomes visible, the flowing
waters, darkness, or, as the poet says, obscurity of the cavern, were
considered by the ancients as apt symbols of what the world contains,
on account of the matter with which it is connected. Through matter,
therefore, the world is obscure and dark; but through the connecting
power, and orderly distribution of form, from which also it is called
_world_, it is beautiful and delightful. Hence it may very properly be
denominated a cave; as being lovely, indeed, to him who first enters into
it, through its participation of forms, but obscure to him who surveys
its foundation, and examines it with an intellectual eye. So that its
exterior and superficial parts, indeed, are pleasant, but its interior
and profound parts are obscure, [and its very bottom is darkness itself].
Thus also the Persians, mystically signifying the descent of the soul
into the sublunary regions, and its regression from it, initiate the
mystic [or him who is admitted to the arcane sacred rites] in a place
which they denominate a cavern. For, as Eubulus says, Zoroaster was
the first who consecrated, in the neighbouring mountains of Persia, a
spontaneously produced cave, florid, and having fountains, in honour
of Mithra, the maker and father of all things; a cave, according to
Zoroaster, bearing a resemblance of the world, which was fabricated by
Mithra. But the things contained in the cavern being arranged according
to commensurate intervals, were symbols of the mundane elements and
climates.

3. After this Zoroaster likewise, it was usual with others to perform
the rites pertaining to the mysteries in caverns and dens, whether
spontaneously produced, or made by the hands. For, as they established
temples, groves, and altars, to the celestial Gods, but to the
terrestrial Gods, and to heroes, altars alone, and to the subterranean
divinities pits and cells; so to the world they dedicated caves and dens;
as likewise to Nymphs[119], on account of the water which trickles, or is
diffused in caverns, over which the Naiades, as we shall shortly observe,
preside. Not only, however, did the ancients make a cavern, as we have
said, to be a symbol of the world, or of a generated and sensible nature;
but they also assumed it as a symbol of all invisible powers; because, as
caverns are obscure and dark, so the essence of these powers is occult.
Hence Saturn fabricated a cavern in the ocean itself, and concealed in
it his children. Thus, too, Ceres educated Proserpine, with her Nymphs,
in a cave; and many other particulars of this kind may be found in the
writings of theologists. But that the ancients dedicated caverns to
Nymphs, and especially to the Naiades, who dwell near fountains, and who
are called Naiades from the streams over which they preside, is manifest
from the hymn to Apollo, in which it is said: “The Nymphs residing in
caves shall deduce fountains of intellectual waters to thee, (according
to the divine voice of the Muses,) which are the progeny of a terrene
spirit. Hence waters, bursting through every river, shall exhibit to
mankind perpetual effusions of sweet streams[120].” From hence, as it
appears to me, the Pythagoreans, and after them Plato, showed that the
world is a cavern and a den. For the powers which are the leaders of
souls, thus speak in a verse of Empedocles:

    Now at this secret cavern we’re arrived.

And by Plato, in the 7th book of his Republic, it is said, “Behold men
as if dwelling in a subterraneous cavern, and in a den-like habitation,
whose entrance is widely expanded to the admission of the light through
the whole cave.” But when the other person in the Dialogue says, “You
adduce an unusual and wonderful similitude,” he replies, “The whole of
this image, friend Glauco, must be adapted to what has been before said,
assimilating this receptacle, which is visible through the sight, to the
habitation of a prison; but the light of the fire which is in it to the
power of the sun.”

4. That theologists therefore considered caverns as symbols of the world,
and of mundane powers, is, through this, manifest. And it has been
already observed by us, that they also considered a cave as a symbol of
the intelligible essence; being impelled to do so by different and not
the same conceptions. For they were of opinion, that a cave is a symbol
of the sensible world, because caverns are dark, stony, and humid; and
they asserted, that the world is a thing of this kind, through the matter
of which it consists, and through its repercussive and flowing nature.
But they thought it to be a symbol of the intelligible world, because
that world is invisible to sensible perception, and possesses a firm and
stable essence. Thus, also, partial powers are unapparent, and especially
those which are inherent in matter. For they formed these symbols, from
surveying the spontaneous production of caves, and their nocturnal, dark,
and stony nature; and not entirely, as some suspect, from directing their
attention to the figure of a cavern. For every cave is not spherical,
as is evident from this Homeric cave with a twofold entrance. But since
a cavern has a twofold similitude, the present cave must not be assumed
as an image of the intelligible, but of the sensible essence. For in
consequence of containing perpetually-flowing streams of water, it will
not be a symbol of an intelligible hypostasis, but of a material essence.
On this account also, it is sacred to Nymphs, not the mountain, _or
rural[121] Nymphs_, or others of the like kind, but to the Naiades, who
are thus denominated from streams of water. For we peculiarly call the
Naiades, and the powers that preside over waters, Nymphs; and this term,
also, is commonly applied to all souls descending into generation. For
the ancients thought that these souls are incumbent on water which is
inspired by divinity, as Numenius says, who adds, that on this account,
a prophet asserts, that the Spirit of God moved on the waters. The
Egyptians likewise, on this account, represent all dæmons, and also
the sun, and, in short, all the planets[122], not standing on any thing
solid, but on a sailing vessel; for souls descending into generation
fly to moisture. Hence, also, Heraclitus says, “that moisture appears
delightful and not deadly to souls;” but the lapse into generation is
delightful to them. And in another place [speaking of unembodied souls],
he says, “We live their death, and we die their life.” Hence the poet
calls those that are in generation _humid_, because they have souls
which are _profoundly_ steeped in moisture. On this account, such souls
delight in blood and humid seed; but water is the nutriment of the souls
of plants. Some likewise are of opinion, that the bodies in the air, and
in the heavens, are nourished by vapours from fountains and rivers, and
other exhalations. But the Stoics assert, that the sun is nourished by
the exhalation from the sea; the moon from the vapours of fountains and
rivers; and the stars from the exhalation of the earth. Hence, according
to them, the sun is an intellectual composition formed from the sea; the
moon from river waters; and the stars from terrene exhalations.

5. It is necessary, therefore, that souls, whether they are corporeal
or incorporeal, while they attract to themselves body, and especially
such as are about to be bound to blood and moist bodies, should verge
to humidity, and be corporalized, in consequence of being drenched in
moisture. Hence the souls of the dead are evocated by the effusion of
bile and blood; and souls that are lovers of body, by attracting a
moist spirit, condense this humid vehicle like a cloud. For moisture
condensed in the air constitutes a cloud. But the pneumatic vehicle being
condensed in these souls, becomes visible through an excess of moisture.
And among the number of these we must reckon those apparitions of images,
which, from a spirit coloured by the influence of imagination, present
themselves to mankind. But pure souls are averse from generation; so
that, as Heraclitus says, “_a dry soul is the wisest_.” Hence, here
also, the spirit becomes moist and more aqueous through the desire
of coition, the soul thus attracting a humid vapour from verging to
generation. Souls, therefore, proceeding into generation, are the Nymphs
called Naiades. Hence it is usual to call those that are married Nymphs,
as being conjoined to generation, and to pour water into baths from
fountains, or rivers, or perpetual rills.

6. This world, then, is sacred and pleasant to souls who have now
proceeded into nature, and to natal dæmons, though it is essentially
dark and _obscure_; [ηεροειδης], from which some have suspected that
souls also are of an _obscure_ nature, [αερωδως,] and essentially
consist of air. Hence a cavern, which is both pleasant and dark, will
be appropriately consecrated to souls on the earth, conformably to its
similitude to the world; in which, as in the greatest of all temples,
souls reside. To the Nymphs likewise, who preside over waters, a cavern,
in which there are perpetually flowing streams, is adapted. Let,
therefore, this present cavern be consecrated to souls, and, among the
more partial powers, to nymphs, that preside over streams and fountains,
and who, on this account, are called _fontal_ and _Naiades_. What,
therefore, are the different symbols, some of which are adapted to
souls, but others to the aquatic powers, in order that we may apprehend
that this cavern is consecrated in common to both? Let the stony bowls,
then, and the amphoræ, be symbols of the aquatic Nymphs. For these are,
indeed, the symbols of Bacchus, but their composition is fictile, _i.e._
consists of baked earth; and these are friendly to the vine, the gift
of the God; since the fruit of the vine is brought to a proper maturity
by the celestial fire of the sun. But the stony bowls and amphoræ, are in
the most eminent degree adapted to the Nymphs who preside over the water
that flows from rocks. And to souls that descend into generation, and
are occupied in corporeal energies, what symbol can be more appropriate
than those instruments pertaining to weaving? Hence, also, the poet
ventures to say, “that on these the Nymphs weave purple webs, admirable
to the view.” For the formation of the flesh is on and about the bones,
which in the bodies of animals resemble stones. Hence these instruments
of weaving consist of stone, and not of any other matter. But the purple
webs will evidently be the flesh which is woven from the blood. For
purple woollen garments are tinged from blood; and wool is dyed from
animal juice. The generation of flesh, also, is through and from blood.
Add, too, that the body is a garment with which the soul is invested, a
thing wonderful to the sight, whether this refers to the composition of
the soul, or contributes to the colligation of the soul [to the whole
of a visible essence]. Thus, also, Proserpine, who is the inspective
guardian of every thing produced from seed, is represented by Orpheus as
weaving a web[123]; and the heavens are called by the ancients a veil,
in consequence of being, as it were, the vestment of the celestial Gods.

7. Why, therefore, are the amphoræ said not to be filled with water,
but with honey-combs? For in these Homer says the bees deposit their
honey. But this is evident from the word τιθαιβωσσειν, which signifies
τιθεναι την βοσιν; _i.e._ to deposit aliment. And honey is the nutriment
of bees. Theologists, also, have made honey subservient to many and
different symbols, because it consists of many powers; since it is both
cathartic and preservative. Hence, through honey, bodies are preserved
from putrefaction, and inveterate ulcers are purified. Farther still,
it is also sweet to the taste, and is collected by bees, who are
ox-begotten, from flowers. When, therefore, those who are initiated in
the Leontic sacred rites, pour honey instead of water on their hands;
they are ordered [by the initiator] to have their hands pure from every
thing productive of molestation, and from every thing noxious and
detestable. Other initiators [into the same mysteries] employ fire,
which is of a cathartic nature, as an appropriate purification. And they
likewise purify the tongue from all the defilement of evil with honey.
But the Persians, when they offer honey to the guardian of fruits,
consider it as the symbol of a preserving and defending power. Hence
some persons have thought that the nectar and ambrosia[124], which the
poet pours into the nostrils of the dead, for the purpose of preventing
putrefaction, is honey; since honey is the food of the Gods. On this
account, also, the same poet somewhere calls nectar ερυθρον; for such is
the colour of honey, [viz. it is a deep yellow]. But whether or not honey
is to be taken for nectar, we shall elsewhere more accurately examine.
In Orpheus, likewise, Saturn is ensnared by Jupiter through honey. For
Saturn, being filled with honey, is intoxicated, his senses are darkened,
as if from the effects of wine, and he sleeps; just as Porus, in the
Banquet of Plato, is filled with nectar; for wine was not (says he) yet
known. The Goddess Night, too, in Orpheus, advises Jupiter to make use
of honey as an artifice. For she says to him—

    When stretch’d beneath the lofty oaks you view
    Saturn, with honey by the bees produc’d,
    Sunk in ebriety[125], fast bind the God.

This, therefore, takes place, and Saturn being bound, is castrated in
the same manner as Heaven; the theologist obscurely signifying by this,
that divine natures become through pleasure bound, and drawn down into
the realms of generation; and also that, when dissolved in pleasure,
they emit certain seminal powers. Hence Saturn castrates Heaven, when
descending to earth, through a desire of coition[126]. But the sweetness
of honey signifies, with theologists, the same thing as the pleasure
arising from copulation, by which Saturn, being ensnared, was castrated.
For Saturn, and his sphere, are the first of the orbs that move contrary
to the course of Cœlum, or the heavens. Certain powers, however, descend
both from Heaven [or the inerratic sphere] and the planets. But Saturn
receives the powers of Heaven, and Jupiter the powers of Saturn.
Since, therefore, honey is assumed in purgations, and as an antidote
to putrefaction, and is indicative of the pleasure which draws souls
downward to generation; it is a symbol well adapted to aquatic Nymphs, on
account of the unputrescent nature of the waters over which they preside,
their purifying power, and their co-operation with generation. For water
co-operates in the work of generation. On this account the bees are said,
by the poet, to deposit their honey in bowls and amphoræ; the bowls being
a symbol of fountains, and therefore a bowl is placed near to Mithra,
instead of a fountain; but the amphoræ are symbols of the vessels with
which we draw water from fountains. And fountains and streams are adapted
to aquatic Nymphs, and still more so to the Nymphs that are souls,
which the ancients peculiarly called bees, as the efficient causes of
sweetness. Hence Sophocles does not speak unappropriately when he says of
souls—

    In swarms while wandering, from the dead,
    A humming sound is heard.

8. The priestesses of Ceres, also, as being initiated into the mysteries
of the terrene Goddess, were called by the ancients bees; and Proserpine
herself was denominated by them _honied_. The moon, likewise, who
presides over generation, was called by them a bee, and also a bull.
And Taurus is the exaltation of the moon. But bees are ox-begotten. And
this appellation is also given to souls proceeding into generation. The
God, likewise, who is occultly connected with generation, is a stealer
of oxen. To which may be added, that honey is considered as a symbol
of death, and on this account, it is usual to offer libations of honey
to the terrestrial Gods; but gall is considered as a symbol of life;
whether it is obscurely signified by this, that the life of the soul
dies through pleasure, but through bitterness the soul resumes its life,
whence, also, bile is sacrificed to the Gods; or whether it is, because
death liberates from molestation, but the present life is laborious and
bitter. All souls, however, proceeding into generation, are not simply
called bees, but those who will live in it justly, and who, after having
performed such things as are acceptable to the Gods, will again return
[to their kindred stars]. For this insect loves to return to the place
from whence it first came, and is eminently just and sober. Whence, also,
the libations which are made with honey are called sober. Bees, likewise,
do not sit on beans, which were considered by the ancients as a symbol of
generation proceeding in a right line, and without flexure; because this
leguminous vegetable is almost the only seed-bearing plant, whose stalk
is perforated throughout without any intervening knots[127]. We must
therefore admit, that honey-combs and bees are appropriate and common
symbols of the aquatic Nymphs, and of souls that are married [as it were]
to [the humid and fluctuating nature of] generation.

9. Caves, therefore, in the most remote periods of antiquity, were
consecrated to the Gods, before temples were erected to them. Hence, the
Curetes in Crete dedicated a cavern to Jupiter; in Arcadia, a cave was
sacred to the Moon, and to Lycean Pan; and in Naxus, to Bacchus. But
wherever Mithra was known, they propitiated the God in a cavern. With
respect, however, to this Ithacensian cave, Homer was not satisfied with
saying that it had two gates, but adds, that one of the gates was turned
towards the north, but the other, which was more divine, to the south. He
also says, that the northern gate was pervious to descent, but does not
indicate whether this was also the case with the southern gate. For of
this, he only says, “It is inaccessible to men, but it is the path of the
immortals.”

10. It remains, therefore, to investigate what is indicated by this
narration, whether the poet describes a cavern which was in reality
consecrated by others, or whether it is an enigma of his own invention.
Since, however, a cavern is an image and symbol of the world, as Numenius
and his familiar Cronius assert, there are two extremities in the
heavens, viz. the winter tropic, than which nothing is more southern, and
the summer tropic, than which nothing is more northern. But the summer
tropic is in Cancer, and the winter tropic in Capricorn. And since Cancer
is nearest to us, it is very properly attributed to the Moon, which is
the nearest of all the heavenly bodies to the earth. But as the southern
pole, by its great distance, is invisible to us, hence Capricorn is
attributed to Saturn, the highest and most remote of all the planets.
Again, the signs from Cancer to Capricorn, are situated in the following
order: and the first of these is Leo, which is the house of the Sun;
afterwards Virgo, which is the house of Mercury; Libra, the house of
Venus; Scorpius, of Mars; Sagittarius, of Jupiter; and Capricornus, of
Saturn. But from Capricorn in an inverse order, Aquarius is attributed to
Saturn; Pisces, to Jupiter; Aries, to Mars; Taurus, to Venus; Gemini, to
Mercury; and, in the last place, Cancer to the Moon.

11. Theologists therefore assert, that these two gates are Cancer and
Capricorn; but Plato calls them entrances. And of these, theologists
say, that Cancer is the gate through which souls descend; but Capricorn
that through which they ascend. Cancer is indeed northern, and adapted
to descent; but Capricorn is southern, and adapted to ascent[128]. The
northern parts, likewise, pertain to souls descending into generation.
And the gates of the cavern which are turned to the north, are rightly
said to be pervious to the descent of men; but the southern gates are not
the avenues of the Gods, but of souls ascending to the Gods. On this
account, the poet does not say that they are the avenues of the Gods, but
of immortals; this appellation being also common to our souls, which are
_per se_, or essentially, immortal. It is said, that Parmenides mentions
these two gates in his treatise On the Nature of Things; as likewise,
that they are not unknown to the Romans and Egyptians. For the Romans
celebrate their Saturnalia when the Sun is in Capricorn; and during this
festivity, slaves wear the shoes of those that are free, and all things
are distributed among them in common; the legislator obscurely signifying
by this ceremony, that through this gate of the heavens, those who are
now born slaves will be liberated through the Saturnian festival, and the
house attributed to Saturn, _i.e._ Capricorn, when they live again, and
return to the fountain of life. Since, however, the path from Capricorn
is adapted to ascent[129], hence the Romans denominate that month in
which the Sun, turning from Capricorn to the east, directs his course
to the north, Januarius, or January, from _janua_, a gate. But with the
Egyptians, the beginning of the year is not Aquarius, as with the Romans,
but Cancer. For the star Sothis, which the Greeks call the Dog, is near
to Cancer. And the rising of Sothis is the new moon with them, this being
the principle of generation to the world. On this account, the gates of
the Homeric cavern are not dedicated to the east and west, nor to the
equinoctial signs, Aries and Libra, but to the north and south, and to
those celestial signs which, towards the south, are most southerly, and,
towards the north, are most northerly; because this cave was sacred
to souls and aquatic Nymphs. But these places are adapted to souls
descending into generation, and afterwards separating themselves from
it. Hence, a place near to the equinoctial circle was assigned to Mithra
as an appropriate seat. And on this account he bears the sword of Aries,
which is a martial sign. He is likewise carried in the Bull, which is the
sign of Venus. For Mithra, as well as the Bull, is the demiurgus and lord
of generation[130]. But he is placed near the equinoctial circle, having
the northern parts on his right hand, and the southern on his left. They
likewise arranged towards the south the southern hemisphere, because
it is hot; but the northern hemisphere towards the north, through the
coldness of the north wind.

12. The ancients, likewise, very reasonably connected winds with souls
proceeding into generation, and again separating themselves from it,
because, as some think, souls attract a spirit, and have a pneumatic
essence. But the north wind is adapted to souls falling into generation;
and, on this account, the northern blasts refresh those who are dying,
and when they can scarcely draw their breath. On the contrary, the
southern gales dissolve life. For the north wind, indeed, from its
superior coldness, congeals [as it were, the animal life], and detains
it in the frigidity of terrene generation. But the south wind being hot,
dissolves this life, and sends it upward to the heat of a divine nature.
Since, however, our terrene habitation is more northern, it is proper
that souls which are born in it should be familiar with the north wind;
but those that exchange this life for a better, with the south wind. This
also is the cause why the north wind is at its commencement great; but
the south wind, at its termination. For the former is situated directly
over the inhabitants of the northern part of the globe; but the latter
is at a great distance from them; and the blast from places very remote,
is more tardy than from such as are near. But when it is coacervated,
then it blows abundantly, and with vigour. Since, however, souls proceed
into generation through the northern gate, hence this wind is said to be
amatory. For, as the poet says,

    Boreas, enamour’d of the sprightly train,
    Conceal’d his godhead in a flowing mane.
    With voice dissembled, to his loves he neigh’d,
    And coursed the dappled beauties o’er the mead:
    Hence sprung twelve others of unrivall’d kind,
    Swift as their mother mares, and father wind[131].

It is also said, that Boreas ravished Orithya[132], from whom he begot
Zetis and Calais. But as the south is attributed to the Gods, hence, when
the Sun is at his meridian, the curtains in temples are drawn before the
statues of the Gods; in consequence of observing the Homeric precept,
“that it is not lawful for men to enter temples when the Sun is inclined
to the south;” for this is the path of the immortals. Hence, when the
God is at his meridian altitude, the ancients placed a symbol of mid-day
and of the south in the gates of temples[133]; and, on this account, in
other gates also, it was not lawful to speak at all times, because gates
were considered as sacred. Hence, too, the Pythagoreans, and the wise
men among the Egyptians, forbade speaking while passing through doors or
gates; for then they venerated in silence that God who is the principle
of wholes [and, therefore of all things].

13. Homer likewise knew that gates are sacred, as is evident from his
representing Oeneus, when supplicating, shaking the gate:

    The gates he shakes, and supplicates the son[134].

He also knew the gates of the heavens which are committed to the
guardianship of the Hours; which gates originate in cloudy places, and
are opened and shut by the clouds. For he says.

    Whether dense clouds they close, or wide unfold[135].

And on this account, these gates emit a bellowing sound, because thunders
roar through the clouds:

    Heaven’s gates spontaneous open to the powers;
    Heaven’s bellowing portals, guarded by the Hours[136].

He likewise elsewhere speaks of the gates of the Sun, signifying by these
Cancer and Capricorn; for the Sun proceeds as far as to these signs, when
he descends from the north to the south, and from thence ascends again
to the northern parts. But Capricorn and Cancer are situated about the
galaxy, being allotted the extremities of this circle; Cancer, indeed,
the northern, but Capricorn the southern extremity of it. According to
Pythagoras, also, the _people of dreams_[137], are the souls which are
said to be collected in the galaxy, this circle being so called from
the milk with which souls are nourished when they fall into generation.
Hence, those who evocate departed souls, sacrifice to them by a libation
of milk mingled with honey; because, through the allurements of
sweetness, they will proceed into generation; with the birth of man, milk
being naturally produced. Farther still, the southern regions produce
small bodies; for it is usual with heat to attenuate them in the greatest
degree. But all bodies generated in the north are large, as is evident
in the Celtæ, the Thracians, and the Scythians; and these regions are
humid, and abound with pastures. For the word Boreas is derived from
Βορα, which signifies nutriment. Hence, also, the wind which blows from
a land abounding in nutriment, is called Βορρας, as being of a nutritive
nature. From these causes, therefore, the northern parts are adapted to
the mortal tribe, and to souls that fall into the realms of generation.
But the southern parts are adapted to that which is immortal[138],
just as the eastern parts of the world are attributed to the Gods,
but the western to dæmons. For, in consequence of nature originating
from diversity, the ancients every where made that which has a twofold
entrance to be a symbol of the nature of things. For the progression
is either through that which is intelligible, or through that which is
sensible. And if through that which is sensible, it is either through
the sphere of the fixed stars, or through the sphere of the planets. And
again, it is either through an immortal, or through a mortal progression.
One centre, likewise, is above, but the other beneath the earth; and
the one is eastern, but the other western. Thus, too, some parts of
the world are situated on the left, but others on the right hand: and
night is opposed to day. On this account, also, harmony consists of, and
_proceeds_[139] through contraries. Plato also says, that there are two
openings[140], one of which affords a passage to souls ascending to the
heavens, but the other to souls descending to the earth. And, according
to theologists, the Sun and Moon are the gates of souls, which ascend
through the Sun, and descend through the Moon. With Homer, likewise,
there are two tubs,

    From which the lot of every one he fills,
    Blessings to these, to those distributes ills[141].

But Plato, in the Gorgias, by tubs intends to signify souls, some of
which are malefic, but others beneficent, and some of which are rational,
but others irrational[142]. Souls, however, are [analogous to] tubs,
because they contain in themselves energies and habits, as in a vessel.
In Hesiod too, we find one tub closed, but the other opened by Pleasure,
who scatters its contents every where, Hope alone remaining behind. For
in those things in which a depraved soul, being dispersed about matter,
deserts the proper order of its essence; in all these, it is accustomed
to feed itself with [the pleasing prospects of] auspicious hope.

14. Since, therefore, every twofold entrance is a symbol of nature, this
Homeric cavern has, very properly, not one portal only, but two gates,
which differ from each other conformably to things themselves; of which
one pertains to Gods and good [dæmons[143]], but the other to mortals,
and depraved natures. Hence, Plato took occasion to speak of bowls, and
assumes tubs instead of amphoræ, and two openings, as we have already
observed, instead of two gates. Pherecydes Syrus also mentions recesses
and trenches, caverns, doors, and gates; and through these obscurely
indicates the generations of souls, and their separation from these
material realms. And thus much for an explanation of the Homeric cave,
which we think we have sufficiently unfolded without adducing any farther
testimonies from ancient philosophers and theologists, which would give a
needless extent to our discourse.

15. One particular, however, remains to be explained, and that is the
symbol of the olive planted at the top of the cavern; since Homer appears
to indicate something very admirable by giving it such a position. For
he does not merely say that an olive grows in this place, but that it
flourishes on the summit of the cavern.

    “High at the head a branching olive grows,
    Beneath, a gloomy grotto’s cool recess.”

But the growth of the olive in such a situation, is not fortuitous, as
some one may suspect, but contains the enigma of the cavern. For since
the world was not produced rashly and casually, but is the work of divine
wisdom and an intellectual nature, hence an olive, the symbol of this
wisdom, flourishes near the present cavern, which is an image of the
world. For the olive is the plant of Minerva; and Minerva is wisdom. But
this Goddess being produced from the head of Jupiter, the theologist has
discovered an appropriate place for the olive, by consecrating it at the
summit of the port; signifying by this, that the universe is not the
effect of a casual event, and the work of irrational fortune, but that
it is the offspring of an intellectual nature and divine wisdom, which
is separated, indeed, from it [by a difference of essence], but yet is
near to it, through being established on the summit of the whole port;
[_i.e._ from the dignity and excellence of its nature governing the whole
with consummate wisdom]. Since, however, an olive is ever-flourishing,
it possesses a certain peculiarity in the highest degree adapted to the
revolutions of souls in the world; for to such souls this cave [as we
have said] is sacred. For in summer, the white leaves of the olive tend
upward, but in winter, the whiter leaves are bent downward. On this
account, also, in prayers and supplications, men extend the branches of
an olive, ominating from this, that they shall exchange the sorrowful
darkness of danger for the fair light of security and peace. The olive,
therefore, being naturally ever-flourishing, bears fruit which is the
auxiliary of labour [by being its reward]; it is also sacred to Minerva;
supplies the victors in athletic labours with crowns; and affords a
friendly branch to the suppliant petitioner. Thus, too, the world is
governed by an intellectual nature, and is conducted by a wisdom eternal
and ever-flourishing; by which the rewards of victory are conferred on
the conquerors in the athletic race of life, as the reward of severe toil
and patient perseverance. And the Demiurgus, who connects and contains
the world [in ineffable comprehensions], invigorates miserable and
suppliant souls.

16. In this cave, therefore, says Homer, all external possessions must
be deposited. Here, naked, and assuming a suppliant habit, afflicted in
body, casting aside every thing superfluous, and being averse to the
energies of sense, it is requisite to sit at the foot of the olive, and
consult with Minerva by what means we may most effectually destroy that
hostile rout of passions which insidiously lurk in the secret recesses
of the soul. Indeed, as it appears to me, it was not without reason that
Numenius and his followers thought the person of Ulysses in the Odyssey
represented to us a man, who passes in a regular manner over the dark and
stormy sea of generation, and thus at length arrives at that region where
tempests and seas are unknown, and finds a nation

    “Who ne’er knew salt, or heard the billows roar.”

17. Again, according to Plato, the deep, the sea, and a tempest, are
images of a material nature. And on this account, I think, the poet
called the port by the name of Phorcys. For he says, “It is the port of
the ancient marine Phorcys[144].” The daughter, likewise, of this God is
mentioned in the beginning of the Odyssey. But from Thoosa the Cyclops
was born, whom Ulysses deprived of sight. And this deed of Ulysses became
the occasion of reminding him of his errors, till he was safely landed
in his native country. On this account, too, a seat under the olive is
proper to Ulysses, as to one who implores divinity, and would appease his
natal dæmon with a suppliant branch. For it will not be simply, and in
a concise way, possible for any one to be liberated from this sensible
life, who blinds this dæmon, and renders his energies inefficacious; but
he who dares to do this, will be pursued by the anger[145] of the marine
and material Gods, whom it is first requisite to appease by sacrifices,
labours, and patient endurance; at one time, indeed, contending with
the passions, and at another employing enchantments and deceptions, and
by these, transforming himself in an all-various manner; in order that,
being at length divested of the torn garments [by which his true person
was concealed], he may recover the ruined empire of his soul. Nor will
he even then be liberated from labours; but this will be effected when
he has entirely passed over the raging sea, and, though still living,
becomes so ignorant of marine and material works [through deep attention
to intelligible concerns], as to mistake an oar for a corn-van.

18. It must not, however, be thought, that interpretations of this kind
are forced, and nothing more than the conjectures of ingenious men;
but when we consider the great wisdom of antiquity, and how much Homer
excelled in intellectual prudence, and in an accurate knowledge of every
virtue, it must not be denied that he has obscurely indicated the images
of things of a more divine nature in the fiction of a fable. For it would
not have been possible to devise the whole of this hypothesis, unless the
figment had been transferred [to an appropriate meaning] from certain
established truths. But reserving the discussion of this for another
treatise, we shall here finish our explanation of the present Cave of the
Nymphs.


FOOTNOTES:

[116] This Cronius, the Pythagorean, is also mentioned by Porphyry, in
his Life of Plotinus.

[117] _i.e._ Rather more than ten Italian miles and a half, eight stadia
making an Italian mile.

[118] In the original, δι ου μορφουται. But _morphe_, as we are informed
by Simplicius, pertains to the colour, figure, and magnitude of
superficies.

[119] “Nymphs,” says Hermias, in his Scholia on the Phædrus of Plato,
“are Goddesses who preside over regeneration, and are ministrant to
Bacchus, the offspring of Semele. Hence they dwell near water, that
is, they are conversant with generation. But this Bacchus supplies the
regeneration of the whole sensible world.”

[120] These lines are not to be found in any of the hymns now extant,
ascribed to Homer.

[121] In the original, ουδε ακραιων; but for ακραιων, I read, αγραιων.

[122] In the original, τους τε Αιγυπτιους δια τουτο τους δαιμονας απαντας
ουχ εσταναι επι στερεου, αλλα παντας επι πλοιου, και τον ηλιον, και απλως
παντας, ους τινας ειδεναι χρη τας ψυχας επιποτωμενας τῳ υγρῳ, τας εις
γενεσιν κατιουσας. But after the words και απλως παντας, it appears to me
to be requisite to insert τους πλανητας. For Martianus Capella, in lib.
ii. De Nuptiis Philologiæ, speaking of the sun, says: “Ibi quandam navim,
totius naturæ cursibus diversa cupiditate moderantem, cunctaque flammarum
congestione plenissimam, beatis circumactam mercibus conspicatur. Cui
_nautæ septem_ germani, tamen suique consimiles præsidebant,” &c. For in
this passage the seven sailors are evidently the seven planets.

[123] The theological meaning of this Orphic fiction is beautifully
unfolded by Proclus, as follows:—“Orpheus says that the vivific cause
of partible natures [_i.e._ Proserpine], while she remained on high,
weaving the order of celestials, was a nymph, as being undefiled; and
in consequence of this connected with Jupiter, and abiding in her
appropriate manners; but that, proceeding from her proper habitation,
she left her webs unfinished, was ravished; having been ravished, was
married; and that being married she generated, in order that she might
animate things which have an adventitious life. For the unfinished
state of her webs indicates, I think, that the universe is imperfect or
unfinished, as far as to perpetual animals [_i.e._ The universe would be
imperfect if nothing inferior to the celestial Gods was produced]. Hence
Plato says, that the one Demiurgus calls on the many Demiurgi to weave
together the mortal and immortal natures; after a manner reminding us,
that the addition of the mortal genera is the perfection of the textorial
life of the universe, and also exciting our recollection of the divine
Orphic fable, and affording us interpretative causes of the unfinished
webs of Proserpine.”—See vol. ii. p. 356, of my translation of Proclus on
the Timæus.

The _unfinished webs_ of Proserpine are also alluded to by Claudian, in
his poem De Raptu Proserpinæ, in the following verse:

    Sensit adesse Deas, _imperfectumque laborem_
    _Deserit_.

I only add, that, by ancient theologists, the shuttle was considered as a
signature of _separating_, a cup of _vivific_, a sceptre of _ruling_, and
a key of _guardian_ power.

[124] The theological meaning of nectar and ambrosia, is beautifully
unfolded by Hermias, in his Scholia on the Phædrus of Plato, published
by Ast, Lips. 1810, p. 145, where he informs us, that _ambrosia_ is
analogous to dry nutriment, and that, on this account, it signifies an
establishment in causes; but that _nectar_ is analogous to moist food,
and that it signifies the providential attention of the Gods to secondary
natures; the former being denominated, according to _a privation of the
mortal and corruptible_ [κατα στερησιν του βροτου και φθαρτου]; but the
latter, according to _a privation of the funeral and sepulchral_ [κατα
στερησιν του κτεριος ειρημενον και του ταφου]. And when the Gods are
represented as energizing providentially, they are said to drink nectar.
Thus Homer, in the beginning of the 4th book of the Iliad:

    Οι δε θεοι παρ Ζηνι καθημενοι ηγοροωντο
    Χρυσεῳ εν δαπεδῳ, μετα δε σφισι ποτνια Ηβη
    Νεκταρ εῳνοχοει· τοι δε χρυσεοις δεπαεσσι
    Δειδεχατ’ αλληλους, Τρῳων πολιν εισοροωντες.

    Now with each other, on the golden floor
    Seated near Jove, the Gods converse; to whom
    The venerable Hebe nectar bears,
    In golden goblets; and as these flow round,
    Th’ immortals turn their careful eyes on Troy.

For then they providentially attend to the Trojans. The possession,
therefore, of immutable providence by the Gods is signified by their
drinking nectar; the exertion of this providence, by their beholding
Troy; and their communicating with each other in providential energies,
by receiving the goblets from each other.

[125] Ebriety, when ascribed to divine natures by ancient theologists,
signifies a deific superessential energy, or an energy superior
to intellect. Hence, when Saturn is said by Orpheus to have been
intoxicated with honey or nectar, the meaning is, that he then energized
providentially, in a deific and super-intellectual manner.

[126] Porphyry, though he excelled in philosophical, was deficient in
theological knowledge; of which what he now says of the castrations of
Saturn and Heaven, is a remarkable instance. For ancient theologists, by
things preternatural, adumbrated the transcendent nature of the Gods;
by such as are irrational, a power more divine than all reason; and
by things apparently base, incorporeal beauty. Hence, in the fabulous
narrations to which Porphyry now alludes, the genital parts must be
considered as symbols of prolific power; and the castration of these
parts as signifying the progression of this power into a subject order.
So that the fable means that the prolific powers of Saturn are called
forth into progression by Jupiter, and those of Heaven by Saturn; Jupiter
being inferior to Saturn, and Saturn to Heaven.—See the Apology for the
Fables of Homer, in vol. i. of my translation of Plato.

[127] Hence, when Pythagoras exhorted his disciples to abstain from
beans, he intended to signify, that they should beware of a continued and
perpetual descent into the realms of generation.

[128] Macrobius, in the 12th chapter of his Commentary on Scipio’s Dream,
has derived some of the ancient arcana which it contains from what is
here said by Porphyry. A part of what he has farther added, I shall
translate, on account of its excellence and connexion with the above
passage. “Pythagoras thought that the empire of Pluto began downwards
from the milky way, because souls falling from thence appear to have
already receded from the Gods. Hence he asserts, that the nutriment of
milk is first offered to infants, because their first motion commences
from the galaxy, when they begin to fall into terrene bodies. On this
account, since those who are about to descend are yet in _Cancer_, and
have not left the milky way, they rank in the order of the Gods. But
when, by falling, they arrive at the _Lion_, in this constellation
they enter on the exordium of their future condition. And because,
in the _Lion_, the rudiments of birth, and certain primary exercises
of human nature, commence; but _Aquarius_ is opposite to the _Lion_,
and presently sets after the _Lion_ rises; hence, when the sun is in
_Aquarius_, funeral rites are performed to departed souls, because he is
then carried in a sign which is contrary or adverse to human life. From
the confine, therefore, in which the zodiac and galaxy touch each other,
the soul, descending from a round figure, which is the only divine form,
is produced into a cone by its defluxion. And as a line is generated
from a point, and proceeds into length from an indivisible, so the soul,
from its own point, which is a monad, passes into the duad, which is the
first extension. And this is the essence which Plato, in the Timæus,
calls impartible, and at the same time partible, when he speaks of the
nature of the mundane soul. For as the soul of the world, so likewise
that of man, will be found to be in one respect without division, if
the simplicity of a divine nature is considered; and in another respect
partible, if we regard the diffusion of the former through the world, and
of the latter through the members of the body.

“As soon, therefore, as the soul gravitates towards body in this first
production of herself, she begins to experience a material tumult, that
is, matter flowing into her essence. And this is what Plato remarks
in the Phædo, that the soul is drawn into body staggering with recent
intoxication; signifying by this, the new drink of matter’s impetuous
flood, through which the soul, becoming defiled and heavy, is drawn into
a terrene situation. But the starry _cup_ placed between Cancer and the
Lion, is a symbol of this mystic truth, signifying that descending souls
first experience intoxication in that part of the heavens through the
influx of matter. Hence oblivion, the companion of intoxication, there
begins silently to creep into the recesses of the soul. For if souls
retained in their descent to bodies the memory of divine concerns, of
which they were conscious in the heavens, there would be no dissension
among men about divinity. But all, indeed, in descending, drink of
oblivion; though some more, and others less. On this account, though
truth is not apparent to all men on the earth, yet all exercise their
opinions about it; because _a defect of memory is the origin of opinion_.
But those discover most who have drank least of oblivion, because they
easily remember what they had known before in the heavens.

“The soul, therefore, falling with this first weight from the zodiac and
milky way into each of the subject spheres, is not only clothed with the
accession of a luminous body, but produces the particular motions which
it is to exercise in the respective orbs. Thus in Saturn, it energizes
according to a ratiocinative and intellective power; in the sphere of
Jove, according to a practic power; in the orb of the Sun, according to a
sensitive and imaginative nature; but according to the motion of desire
in the planet Venus; of pronouncing and interpreting what it perceives
in the orb of Mercury; and according to a plantal or vegetable nature,
and a power of acting on body, when it enters into the lunar globe. And
this sphere, as it is the last among the divine orders, so it is the
first in our terrene situation. For this body, as it is the dregs of
divine natures, so it is the first animal substance. And this is the
difference between terrene and supernal bodies (under the latter of which
I comprehend the heavens, the stars, and the more elevated elements,)
that the latter are called upwards to be the seat of the soul, and merit
immortality from the very nature of the region, and an imitation of
sublimity; but the soul is drawn down to these terrene bodies, and is
on this account said to die when it is enclosed in this fallen region,
and the seat of mortality. Nor ought it to cause any disturbance that we
have so often mentioned the death of the soul, which we have pronounced
to be immortal. For the soul is not extinguished by its own proper
death, but is only overwhelmed for a time. Nor does it lose the benefit
of perpetuity by its temporal demersion. Since, when it deserves to be
purified from the contagion of vice, through its entire refinement from
body, it will be restored to the light of perennial life, and will return
to its pristine integrity and perfection.”

“The powers, however, of the planets, which are the causes of the
energies of the soul in the several planetary spheres, are more
accurately described by Proclus, in p. 260 of his admirable Commentary
on the Timæus, as follows: ει δε βουλει και οτι των αγαθων πλανητων
Σεληνη μεν αιτια τοις θνητοις της φυσεως, το αυτοπτον αγαλμα ουσα της
πηγαιας φυσεως· Ηλιος δε δημιουργος των αισθησεων πασων, διοτι και του
οραν και του ορασθαι αιτιος· Ερμης δε των της φαντασιας κινησεων· αυτης
γαρ της φανταστικης ουσιας, ως μιας ουσης αισθησεως και φαντασιας, Ηλιος
υποστατης· Αφροδιτη δε των επιθυμητικων ορεξεων· Αρης δε των θυμοειδων
κινησεων των κατα φυσιν εκαστοις· κοινη δε των μεν ζωτικων πασων δυναμεων
Ζευς, των δε γνωστικων Κρονος, διῃρηται γαρ παντα τα ειδη τα αλογα εις
ταυτας, _i.e._ “If you are willing, also, you may say, that of the
beneficent planets, the Moon is the cause to mortals of nature, being
herself the visible statue of fontal nature. But the Sun is the Demiurgus
of every thing sensible, in consequence of being the cause of sight and
visibility. Mercury is the cause of the motions of the phantasy; for of
the imaginative essence itself, so far as sense and phantasy are one,
the Sun is the producing cause. But Venus is the cause of epithymetic
appetites [or of the appetites pertaining to desire]; and Mars, of the
irascible motions which are conformable to nature. Of all vital powers,
however, Jupiter is the common cause; but of all gnostic powers, Saturn.
For all the irrational forms are divided into these.”

[129] For καταβατικη, in this place, it appears to me to be obviously
necessary to read αναβατικη. For Porphyry has above informed us, that
Capricorn is the gate through which souls ascend.

[130] Hence Phanes, or Protogonus, who is the paradigm of the universe,
and who was absorbed by Jupiter, the Demiurgus, is represented by Orpheus
as having the head of a _bull_ among other heads with which he is
adorned. And in the Orphic hymn to him, he is called _bull-roarer_.

[131] Iliad, lib. xx. v. 223, &c.

[132] This fable is mentioned by Plato in the Phædrus, and is beautifully
unfolded as follows, by Hermias, in his Scholia on that Dialogue: “A
twofold solution may be given of this fable; one from history, more
ethical; but the other, transferring us [from parts] to wholes. And the
former of these is as follows: Orithya was the daughter of Erectheus, and
the priestess of Boreas; for each of the winds has a presiding deity,
which the telestic art, or the art pertaining to sacred mysteries,
religiously cultivates. To this Orithya, then, the God was so very
propitious, that he sent the north wind for the safety of the country;
and besides this, he is said to have assisted the Athenians in their
naval battles. Orithya, therefore, becoming enthusiastic, being possessed
by her proper God Boreas, and no longer energizing as a human being
(for animals cease to energize according to their own peculiarities,
when possessed by superior causes), died under the inspiring influence,
and thus was said to have been ravished by Boreas. And this is the more
ethical explanation of the fable.

“But the second, which transfers the narration to wholes, and does not
entirely subvert the former, is the following: for divine fables often
employ transactions and histories, in subserviency, to the discipline
of wholes. It is said then, that Erectheus is the God that rules over
the three elements, air, water, and earth. Sometimes, however, he
is considered as alone the ruler of the earth, and sometimes as the
presiding deity of Attica alone. Of this deity Orithya is the daughter;
and she is the prolific power of the Earth, which is indeed coextended
with the word _Erectheus_, as the unfolding of the name signifies. For it
is _the prolific power of the Earth, flourishing and restored, according
to the seasons_. But Boreas is the providence of the Gods, supernally
illuminating secondary natures. For the providence of the Gods in the
world is signified by Boreas, because this divinity blows from lofty
places. And the elevating power of the Gods is signified by the south
wind, because this wind blows from low to lofty places; and besides this,
_things situated towards the south are more divine_. The providence of
the Gods, therefore, causes the prolific power of the Earth, or of the
Attic land, to _ascend_, and become visible.

“Orithya also may be said to be a soul aspiring after things above, from
ορουω and θειω, according to the Attic custom of adding a letter at the
end of a word, which letter is here an “ω.” Such a soul, therefore, is
ravished by Boreas supernally blowing. But if Orithya was hurled from a
precipice, this also is appropriate, for such a soul dies a philosophic,
not receiving a physical death, and abandons a life pertaining to her own
deliberate choice, at the same time that she lives a physical life. And
philosophy, according to Socrates in the Phædo, is nothing else than a
meditation of death.”

[133] In the original, ιστασαν ουν και συμβολον της μεσημβριας και του
νοτου, επι τῃ θυρῃ, μεσημβριαζοντος του θεου, which Holstenius translates
most erroneously as follows: “Austrum igitur meridiei symbolum statuunt;
cum deus meridiano tempore ostio immineat.”

[134] Iliad, lib. xi. v. 579.

[135] Iliad, lib. viii. v. 395.

[136] Iliad, lib. viii. v. 393.

[137] The souls of the suitors are said by Homer, in the 24th book of
the Odyssey (v. 11), to have passed, in their descent to the region of
spirits, beyond _the people of dreams_.

[138] Hence, the southern have always been more favourable to genius,
than the northern parts of the earth.

[139] In the original, τοξευει; but instead of it, I read πορευει.

[140] See my translation of the 10th book of his Republic.

[141] Iliad, xxiv. v. 528.

[142] The passage in the Gorgias of Plato, to which Porphyry here
alludes, is as follows:—“Soc. But, indeed, as you also say, life is a
grievous thing. For I should not wonder if Euripides spoke the truth when
he says: ‘Who knows whether to live is not to die, and to die is not to
live?’ And we, perhaps, are in reality dead. For I have heard from one
of the wise, that we are now dead; and that the body is our sepulchre;
but that the part of the soul in which the desires are contained, is of
such a nature that it can be persuaded, and hurled upwards and downwards.
Hence a certain elegant man, perhaps a Sicilian, or an Italian,
denominated, mythologizing, this part of the soul a tub, by a derivation
from the probable and the persuasive; and, likewise, he called those that
are stupid, or deprived of intellect, uninitiated. He farther said, that
the intemperate and uncovered nature of that part of the soul in which
the desires are contained, was like a pierced tub, through its insatiable
greediness.”

What is here said by Plato is beautifully unfolded by Olymipiodorus, in
his MS. Commentary on the Gorgias, as follows:—“Euripides (in Phryxo)
says, that to live is to die, and to die to live. For the soul coming
hither, as she imparts life to the body, so she partakes [through this]
of a certain privation of life; but this is an evil. When separated,
therefore, from the body, she lives in reality: for she dies here,
through participating a privation of life, because the body becomes the
source of evils. And hence it is necessary to subdue the body.

“But the meaning of the Pythagoric fable, which is here introduced by
Plato, is this: We are said to be dead, because, as we have before
observed, we partake of a privation of life. The sepulchre which we carry
about with us is, as Plato himself explains it, the body. But Hades is
the unapparent, because we are situated in obscurity, the soul being in
a state of servitude to the body. The tubs are the desires; whether they
are so called from our hastening to fill them, as if they were tubs, or
from desire persuading us that it is beautiful. The initiated, therefore,
_i.e._ those that have a perfect knowledge, pour into the entire tub:
for these have their tub full; or, in other words, have perfect virtue.
But the uninitiated, viz. those that possess nothing perfect, have
perforated tubs. For those that are in a state of servitude to desire
always wish to fill it, and are more inflamed; and on this account they
have perforated tubs, as being never full. But the sieve is the rational
soul mingled with the irrational. For the [rational] soul is called a
circle, because it seeks itself, and is itself sought; finds itself, and
is itself found. But the irrational soul imitates a right line, since
it does not revert to itself like a circle. So far, therefore, as the
sieve is circular, it is an image of the rational soul; but, as it is
placed under the right lines formed from the holes, it is assumed for
the irrational soul. Right lines, therefore, are in the middle of the
cavities. Hence, by the sieve, Plato signifies the rational in subjection
to the irrational soul. But the water is the flux of nature: for, as
Heraclitus says, _moisture is the death of the soul_.”

In this extract the intelligent reader will easily perceive that the
occult signification of the _tubs_ is more scientifically unfolded by
Olympiodorus than by Porphyry.

[143] In the original, και τας μεν, θεοις τε και τοις αγαθοις
προσηκουσας. But after αγαθοις, I have no doubt we should insert δαιμοσι.

[144] Phorcys is one among the ennead of Gods who, according to Plato
in the Timæus, fabricate generation. Of this deity, Proclus observes,
“that as the Jupiter in this ennead causes the unapparent divisions and
separation of forms made by Saturn to become apparent, and as Rhea calls
them forth into motion and generation; so Phorcys inserts them in matter,
produces sensible natures, and adorns the visible essence, in order that
there may not only be divisions of productive principles [or forms] in
natures and in souls, and in intellectual essences prior to these; _but
likewise in sensibles. For this is the peculiarity of fabrication._”

[145] “The anger of the Gods,” says Proclus, “is not an indication of any
passion in them, but demonstrates our inaptitude to participate of their
illuminations.”




AUXILIARIES TO THE PERCEPTION OF INTELLIGIBLE NATURES.


SECTION I.

1. Every body is in place; but nothing essentially incorporeal, or any
thing of this kind, has any locality.

2. Things essentially incorporeal, because they are more excellent than
all body and place, are every where, not with interval, but impartibly.

3. Things essentially incorporeal, are not locally present with bodies,
but are present with them when they please; by verging towards them so
far as they are naturally adapted so to verge. They are not, however,
present with them locally, but through habitude, proximity, and alliance.

4. Things essentially incorporeal, are not present with bodies, by
hypostasis and essence; for they are not mingled with bodies. But they
impart a certain power which is proximate to bodies, through verging
towards them. For tendency constitutes a certain secondary power
proximate to bodies.

5. Soul, indeed, is a certain medium between an impartible essence,
and an essence which is divisible about bodies. But intellect is an
impartible essence alone. And qualities and material forms are divisible
about bodies.

6. Not every thing[146] which acts on another, effects that which it
does effect by approximation and contact; but those natures which effect
any thing by approximation and contact, use approximation accidentally.

7. The soul is bound to the body by a conversion to the corporeal
passions; and is again liberated by becoming impassive to the body.

8. That which nature binds, nature also dissolves: and that which the
soul binds, the soul likewise dissolves. Nature, indeed, bound the body
to the soul; but the soul binds herself to the body. Nature, therefore,
liberates the body from the soul; but the soul liberates herself from the
body.

9. Hence there is a twofold death; the one, indeed, universally known,
in which the body is liberated from the soul; but the other peculiar to
philosophers, in which the soul is liberated from the body. Nor does the
one[147] entirely follow the other.

10. We do not understand similarly in all things, but in a manner
adapted to the essence of each. For intellectual objects we understand
intellectually; but those that pertain to soul rationally. We apprehend
plants spermatically; but bodies idolically [_i.e._ as images]; and that
which is above all these, super-intellectually and super-essentially[148].

11. Incorporeal hypostases, in descending, are distributed into parts,
and multiplied about individuals with a diminution of power; but when
they ascend by their energies beyond bodies, they become united, and
proceed into a simultaneous subsistence, through exuberance of power.

12. The homonymous is not in bodies only, but life also is among the
number of things which have a multifarious subsistence. For the life
of a plant is different from that of an animated being; the life of an
intellectual essence differs from that of the nature which is beyond
intellect; and the psychical differs from the intellectual life. For
these natures live, though nothing which proceeds from, possesses a life
similar to them.

13. Every thing which generates by its very essence, generates that which
is inferior to itself[149]; and every thing generated, is naturally
converted to its generator. Of generating natures, however, some are not
at all converted to the beings which they generate; but others are partly
converted to them, and partly not; and others are only converted to their
progeny, but are not converted to themselves.

14. Every thing generated, possesses from that which is different from
itself the cause of its generation, since nothing is produced without a
cause. Such generated natures, however, as have their existence through
composition, these are on this account corruptible. But such as, being
simple and incomposite, possess their existence in a simplicity of
hypostasis, these being indissoluble, are, indeed, incorruptible; yet
they are said to be generated, not as if they were composites, but as
being suspended from a certain cause. Bodies, therefore, are in a twofold
respect generated; as being suspended from a certain producing cause;
and as being composites. But soul and intellect are only generated as
being suspended from a cause, and not as composites. Hence bodies
are generated, dissoluble and corruptible; but soul and intellect
are unbegotten, as being without composition, and on this account
indissoluble and incorruptible; yet they are generated so far as they are
suspended from a cause.

15. Intellect is not the principle of all things; for intellect is many
things; but, prior to _the many_, it is necessary that there should be
_the one_. It is evident, however, that intellect is many things. For
it always understands its conceptions, which are not one, but many;
and which are not any thing else than itself. If, therefore, it is the
same with its conceptions, but they are many, intellect also will be
many things. But that it is the same with intelligibles [or the objects
of its intellection], may be thus demonstrated. For, if there is any
thing which intellect surveys, it will either survey this thing as
contained in itself, or as placed in something else. And that intellect,
indeed, contemplates or surveys, is evident. For, in conjunction with
intellection, or intellectual perception, it will be intellect; but if
you deprive it of intellection, you will destroy its essence. It is
necessary, therefore, that, directing our attention to the properties
of knowledge, we should investigate the perception of intellect. All
the gnostic powers, then, which we contain, are universally sense,
imagination, and intellect[150]. The power, however, which employs
sense, surveys by projecting itself to externals, not being united to
the objects which it surveys, but only receiving an impression of, by
exerting its energies upon them. When, therefore, the eye sees a visible
object, it is impossible that it should become the same with that which
it perceives: for it would not see if there was not an interval between
it and the object of its perception. And, after the same manner, that
which is touched, if it was the same with that by which it is touched,
would perish. From which it is evident that sense, and that which employs
sense, must always tend to an external object, in order to apprehend
something sensible. In like manner also, the phantasy, or imagination,
always tends to something external, and by this extension of itself,
gives subsistence to, or prepares an image; its extension to what is
external, indicating that the object of its perception is a resemblance
of something external. And such, indeed, is the apprehension of these two
powers; neither of which verging to, and being collected into itself,
perceives either a sensible or insensible form.

In intellect, however, the apprehension of its objects does not subsist
after this manner, but is effected by converging to, and surveying
itself. For by departing from itself, in order to survey its own
energies, and become the eye of them, and the sight of essences, it will
not understand any thing. Hence, as sense is to that which is sensible,
so is intellect to that which is intelligible. Sense, however, by,
extending itself to externals, finds that which is sensible situated
in matter; but intellect surveys the intelligible, by being collected
into itself, and not extended outwardly[151]. On this account some are
of opinion, that the hypostasis of intellect differs from that of the
phantasy only in name. For the phantasy, in the rational animal, appeared
to them to be intelligence. As these men, however, suspended all things
from matter and a corporeal nature, it follows that they should also
suspend from these intellect. But our intellect surveys both bodies and
other essences. Hence it apprehends them situated somewhere. But as the
proper objects of intellect have a subsistence out of matter, they will
be no where[152] [locally]. It is evident, therefore, that intellectual
natures are to be conjoined with intelligence. But if intellectual
natures are in intellect, it follows that intellect, when it understands
intelligibles, surveys both the intelligible and itself; and that
proceeding into itself, it perceives intellectually, because it proceeds
into intelligibles. If, however, intellect understands many things, and
not one thing only, intellect also will necessarily be many. But _the
one_ subsists prior to the many; so that it is necessary that _the one_
should be prior to intellect.

16. Memory is not the conservation of imaginations, but the power of
calling forth _de novo_ those conceptions which had previously occupied
the attention of the mind[153].

17. Soul, indeed, contains the reasons [or forms] of all things, but
energizes according to them, either being called forth to this energy
by something else, or converting itself to them inwardly. And when
called forth by something else, it introduces, as it were, the senses
to externals, but when it enters into itself, it becomes occupied with
intellectual conceptions. Hence some one may say, that neither the
senses, nor intellectual perceptions, are without the phantasy; so that,
as in the animal, the senses are not without the passive affection of
the sensitive organs, in like manner intellections are not without the
phantasy. Perhaps, however, it may be said, in answer to this, that, as
an impression in the sensitive organ is the concomitant of the sensitive
animal, so analogously a phantasm is the concomitant of the intellection
of the soul in man, considered as an animal[154].

18. Soul is an essence without magnitude, immaterial, incorruptible,
possessing its existence in life, and having life from itself.

19. The passivity of bodies is different from that of incorporeal
natures. For the passivity of bodies is attended with mutation; but the
adaptations and passions of the soul are energies; yet they are by no
means similar to the calefactions and frigefactions of bodies. Hence,
if the passivity of bodies is accompanied by mutation, it must be said
that all incorporeal natures are impassive. For the essences which are
separated from matter and bodies, are what they are in energy. But those
things which approximate to matter and bodies, are themselves, indeed,
impassive; but the natures in which they are surveyed are passive. For
when the animal perceives sensibly, the soul [_i.e._ the rational soul]
appears to be similar to separate harmony[155], of itself moving the
chords adapted to harmony; but the body is similar to the inseparable
harmony in the chords, [_i.e._ to the harmony which cannot exist
separate from the chords]. But the animal is the cause of the motion,
because it is an animated being. It is, however, analogous to a musician,
because it is harmonic; but the bodies which are struck through sensitive
passion, are analogous to the harmonized chords of a musical instrument.
For in this instance, also, separate harmony is not passively affected,
but the chords. And the musician, indeed, moves according to the harmony
which is in him; yet the chords would not be musically moved, even though
the musician wished that they should, unless harmony ordered this to take
place.

20. Incorporeal natures are not denominated like bodies, according to a
participation in common of one and the same genus; but they derive their
appellation from a mere privation with respect to bodies. Hence, nothing
hinders some of them from having a subsistence as beings, but others as
non-beings; some of them, from being prior to, and others posterior to
bodies; some, from being separate, and others inseparable from bodies;
some, from having a subsistence by themselves, but others from being
indigent of things different from themselves, to their existence; some,
from being the same through energies and self-motive lives, but others
from subsisting together with lives, and energies of a certain quality.
For they subsist according to a negation of the things which they are
not, and not according to the affirmation of the things which they are.

21. The properties of matter, according to the ancients, are the
following: It is incorporeal; for it is different from bodies. It is
without life; for it is neither intellect nor soul, nor vital from
itself [_i.e._ essentially]. It is also formless, variable, infinite,
and powerless. Hence, it is neither being, nor yet non-being. Not that
it is non-being like motion, but it is true non-being, the image and
phantasm of bulk, because it is that which bulk primarily contains. It
is likewise powerless, and the desire of subsistence, has stability, but
not in permanency, and always appears in itself to be contrary. Hence, it
is both small and great, more and less, deficient and exceeding. It is
always becoming to be, or rising into existence; abides not, and yet is
unable to fly away; and is the defect of all being. Hence, in whatever
it announces itself to be, it deceives; and though it should appear to
be great, it is nevertheless small. For it resembles a flying mockery,
eluding all pursuit, and vanishing into non-entity. For its flight is not
in place, but is effected by its desertion of real being. Hence, also,
the images which are in it, are in an image more unreal than themselves;
just as in a mirror, where the thing represented is in one place, and
the representation of it in another. It likewise appears to be full, yet
contains nothing, though it seems to possess all things[156].

22. All passions subsist about the same thing as that about which
corruption subsists; for the reception of passion is the path to
corruption. And the thing that is the subject of passivity, is also the
subject of corruption. Nothing incorporeal, however, is corrupted. But
some of them either exist, or do not exist; so that they are not at all
passive. For that which is passive, ought not to be a thing of this kind,
but such as may be changed in quality, and corrupted by the properties
of the things that enter into it, and cause it to be passive. For the
change in quality of that which is inherent, is not casually effected.
Neither, therefore, does matter suffer; for it is of itself without
quality. Nor do the forms which enter into, and depart from it, suffer;
but the passion subsists about the composite from matter and form, the
very being of which consists in the union of the two. For this, in the
contrary powers and qualities of the things which enter and produce
passion, is seen to be the subject of them. On which account, also, those
things, the life of which is externally derived, and does not subsist
from themselves, are capable of suffering both the participation and
the privation of life. But those beings whose existence consists in an
impassive life, must necessarily possess a permanent life; just as a
privation of life, so far as it is a privation of it, is attended with
impassivity. As, therefore, to be changed and to suffer pertain to the
composite from matter and form, and this is body, but matter is exempt
from this; thus also, to live and to die, and to suffer through the
participation of life and death, is beheld in the composite from soul and
body. Nevertheless, this does not happen to the soul; because it is not a
thing which consists of life and the privation of life, but consists of
life alone. And it possesses this, because its essence is simple, and the
reason [or form] of the soul is self-motive[157].

23. An intellectual essence is so similar in its parts, that the
same[158] things exist both in a partial and an all-perfect intellect. In
an universal intellect, however, partial natures subsist universally; but
in a partial intellect, both universals and particulars subsist partially.

24. Of that essence, the existence of which is in life, and the passions
of which are lives, the death also consists in a certain life, and not in
a total privation of life; because, neither is the deprivation of life
in this essence a passion, or a path which entirely leads to a non-vital
subsistence.

25. In incorporeal lives, the progressions are effected while the lives
themselves remain firm and stable, nothing pertaining to them being
corrupted, or changed into the hypostasis of things subordinate to them.
Hence, neither are the things to which they give subsistence produced
with a certain corruption or mutation. Nor do these incorporeal lives
subsist like generation, which participates of corruption and mutation.
Hence, they are unbegotten and incorruptible, and on this account are
unfolded into light without generation and incorruptibly.

26. Of that nature which is beyond intellect, many things are asserted
through intellection, but it is surveyed by a cessation of intellectual
energy better than with it[159]; just as with respect to one who is
asleep, many things are asserted of him while he is in that state by
those who are awake; but the proper knowledge and apprehension of his
dormant condition, is only to be obtained through sleep. For the similar
is known by the similar; because _all knowledge is an assimilation to the
object of knowledge_.

27. With respect to that which is non-being, we either produce it, being
ourselves separated from real being, or we have a preconception of it,
as adhering to being. Hence, if we are separated from being, we have not
an antecedent conception of the non-being which is above being, but our
knowledge in this case is only that of a false passion, such as that
which happens to a man when he departs from himself. For as a man may
himself, and through himself, be truly elevated to the non-being which
is above being, so, by departing from being, he is led to the non-being
which is a falling off from being.

28. The hypostasis of body is no impediment whatever to that which is
essentially incorporeal, so as to prevent it from being where, and in
such a way, as it wishes to be. For as that which is without bulk is
incomprehensible by body, and does not at all pertain to it, so that
which has bulk cannot impede or obscure an incorporeal nature, but lies
before it like a non-entity. Nor does that which is incorporeal pervade
locally, when it wishes to pass from one thing to another; for place is
consubsistent with bulk. Nor is it compressed by bodies. For that which
in any way whatever is connected with bulk, may be compressed, and effect
a transition locally; but that which is entirely without bulk and without
magnitude, cannot be restrained by that which has bulk, and does not
participate of local motion. Hence, by a certain disposition, it is found
to be there, where it is inclined to be, being with respect to place
every where and yet no where[160]. By _a certain disposition_, therefore,
it is either above the heavens, or is contained in a certain part of the
world. When, however, it is contained in a certain part of the world, it
is not visible to the eyes, but the presence of it becomes manifest from
its works.

29. It is necessary that an incorporeal nature, if it is contained in
body, should not be enclosed in it like a wild beast in a den; (for no
body is able thus to enclose and comprehend it), nor is it contained in
body in the same way as a bladder contains something liquid, or wind; but
it is requisite that it should give subsistence to certain powers which
verge to what is external, through its union with body; by which powers,
when it descends, it becomes complicated with body. Its conjunction,
therefore, with body, is effected through an ineffable extension.
Hence, nothing else binds it, but itself binds itself to body. Neither,
therefore, is it liberated from the body, when the body is [mortally]
wounded and corrupted, but it liberates itself, by turning itself from an
adhering affection to the body.

30. None of the hypostases which rank as wholes, and are perfect, is
converted to its own progeny; but all perfect hypostases are elevated
to their generators as far as to the mundane body [or the body of the
world]. For this body, being perfect, is elevated to its soul, which
is intellectual: and on this account it is moved in a circle. But the
soul of this body is elevated to intellect; and intellect, to the first
principle of all things. All beings, therefore, proceed to this principle
as much as possible, beginning from the last of things. The elevation,
however, to that which is first, is either proximate or remote. Hence,
these natures may not only be said to aspire after the highest God, but
also to enjoy him to the utmost of their power. But in partial[161]
hypostases, and which are able to verge to many things, there is also a
desire of being converted to their progeny. Hence, likewise, in these
there is error, in these there is reprehensible incredulity. These,
therefore, matter injures, because they are capable of being converted
to it, being at the same time able to be converted to divinity. Hence,
perfection gives subsistence to secondary from primary natures,
preserving them converted to the first of things; but imperfection
converts primary[162] to posterior natures, and causes them to love the
beings which have departed from divinity prior to themselves.

31. God is every where because he is no where: and this is also true of
intellect and soul: for each of these is every where, because each is
no where. But God indeed is every where, and no where, with respect to
all things which are posterior to him; and he[163] alone is such as he
is, and such as he wills himself to be. Intellect is in God, but is every
where, and no where, with respect to the natures posterior to it. And
soul is in God and intellect, and is every where and no where, in [or
with respect to] body[164]. But body is in soul, and in intellect[165],
and in God. And as all beings and non-beings are from and in God, hence,
he is neither beings nor non-beings, nor subsists in them. For if,
indeed, he was alone every where, he would be all things and in all, but
since he is also no where, all things are produced through him, and are
contained in him, because he is every where. They are, however, different
from him, because he is no where. Thus, likewise, intellect being every
where and no where, is the cause of souls, and of the natures posterior
to souls; yet intellect is not soul, nor the natures posterior to soul,
nor subsists in them; because it is not only every where, but is also no
where, with respect to the natures posterior to it. And soul is neither
body, nor in body, but is the cause of body; because being every where,
it is also no where, with respect to body. And this progression of things
in the universe extends as far as to that which is neither able to be at
once every where, nor at once no where, but partially participates of
each of these[166].

32. The soul does not exist on the earth [when it is conversant with
terrene natures,] in the same manner as bodies accede to the earth;
but a subsistence of the soul on the earth, signifies its presiding
over terrene bodies. Thus, also, the soul is said to be in Hades, when
it presides over its image[167], which is naturally adapted to be in
place, but possesses its hypostasis in darkness. So that if Hades is a
subterranean dark place, the soul, though not divulsed from being, will
exist in Hades, by attracting to itself its image. For when the soul
departs from the solid body, the spirit accompanies it which it had
collected from the starry spheres. But as from its adhering affection
to the body, it exerts a partial reason, through which it possesses an
habitude to a body of a certain quality, in performing the energies of
life;—hence, from this adhesion to body, the form of the phantasy is
impressed in the spirit, and thus the image is attracted by the soul.
The soul, however, is said to be in Hades, because the spirit obtains a
formless and obscure nature. And as a heavy and moist spirit pervades
as far as to subterranean places, hence the soul is said to proceed
under the earth. Not that this essence of the soul changes one place
for another, and subsists in place, but it receives the habitudes of
bodies which are naturally adapted to change their places, and to be
allotted a subsistence in place; such-like bodies receiving it according
to aptitudes, from being disposed after a certain manner towards it. For
the soul, conformably to the manner in which it is disposed, finds an
appropriate body. Hence, when it is disposed in a purer manner, it has a
connascent body which approximates to an ethereal nature, and this is an
ethereal body. But when it proceeds from reason to the energies of the
phantasy, then its connascent body is of a solar-form nature. And when it
becomes effeminate and vehemently excited by corporeal form, then it is
connected with a lunar-form body. When, however, it falls into bodies
which consist of humid vapours, then a perfect ignorance of real being
follows, together with darkness and infancy.

Moreover, in its egress from the body, if it still possesses a spirit
turbid from humid exhalations, it then attracts to itself a shadow, and
becomes heavy; a spirit of this kind naturally striving to penetrate
into the recesses of the earth, unless a certain other cause draws it
in a contrary direction. As therefore the soul, when surrounded with
this testaceous and terrene vestment, necessarily lives on the earth; so
likewise when it attracts a moist spirit, it is necessarily surrounded
with the image. But it attracts moisture when it continually endeavours
to associate with nature, whose operations are effected in moisture,
and which are rather under than upon the earth. When, however, the soul
earnestly endeavours to depart from nature, then she becomes a dry
splendour, without a shadow, and without a cloud, or mist. For moisture
gives subsistence to a mist in the air; but dryness constitutes a dry
splendour from exhalation.

33. The things which are truly predicated of a sensible and material
nature, are these: that it has, in every respect, a diffused and
dispersed subsistence; that it is mutable; that it has its existence in
difference; that it is a composite; that it subsists by itself, [as the
subject or recipient of other things;] that it is beheld in place, and
in bulk: and other properties similar to these are asserted of it. But
the following particulars are predicated of truly existing being, and
which itself subsists from itself; viz. that it is always established
in itself; that it has an existence perpetually similar and the same;
that it is essentialized in sameness; that it is immutable according
to essence, is uncompounded, is neither dissoluble, nor in place, nor
is dispersed into bulk; and is neither generated, nor capable of being
destroyed: and other properties are asserted of it similar to these. To
which predications adhering, we should neither ourselves assert any
thing repugnant to them, concerning the different nature of sensible and
truly-existing beings, nor assent to those who do.


SECTION II.

34. There is one kind of virtues pertaining to the political character,
and another to the man who tends to contemplation, and who, on this
account, is called theoretic, and is now a beholder [of intellectual and
intelligible natures]. And there are also other virtues pertaining to
intellect, so far as it is intellect, and separate from soul. The virtues
indeed of the political character, and which consist in the moderation
of the passions, are characterized by following and being obedient to
the reasoning about that which is becoming in actions. Hence, looking to
an innoxious converse with neighbours, these virtues are denominated,
from the aggregation of fellowship, political. And here prudence indeed
subsists about the reasoning part; fortitude about the irascible
part; temperance in the consent and symphony of the epithymetic[168]
with the reasoning part; and justice, in each of these performing its
proper employment with respect to governing and being governed. But
the virtues of him who proceeds to the contemplative life, consist in
a departure from terrestrial concerns. Hence, also, they are called
purifications, being surveyed in the refraining from corporeal actions,
and avoiding sympathies with the body. For these are the virtues of the
soul elevating itself to true being. The political virtues therefore
adorn the mortal man, and are the forerunners of purifications. For it
is necessary that he who is adorned by the _cathartic_ virtues, should
abstain from doing any thing precedaneously in conjunction with body.
Hence, in these purifications, not to opine with body, but to energize
alone, gives subsistence to _prudence_; which derives its perfection
through energizing intellectually with purity. But not to be similarly
passive with the body, constitutes _temperance_. Not to fear a departure
from body, as into something void, and non-entity, gives subsistence to
_fortitude_. But when reason and intellect are the leaders, and there
is no resistance [from the irrational part], _justice_ is produced. The
disposition therefore, according to the political virtues, is surveyed
in the moderation of the passions; having for its end to live as man
conformable to nature. But the disposition, according to the theoretic
virtues, is beheld in apathy[169], the end of which is a similitude to
God.

Since, however, of purification, one kind consists in purifying, but
another pertains to those that are purified, the cathartic virtues are
surveyed according to both these significations of purification. For
the end of purification is to become pure. But since purification, and
the being purified, are an ablation of every thing foreign, the good
resulting from them will be different from that which purifies; so, that
if that which is purified was good prior to the impurity with which it
is defiled, purification is sufficient. That, however, which remains
after purification, is good, and not purification. The nature of the soul
also was not good [prior to purification], but is that which is able to
partake of good, and is boniform. For if this were not the case, it would
not have become situated in evil. The good therefore of the soul consists
in being united to its generator, but its evil in an association with
things subordinate to itself. Its evil also is twofold; the one arising
from an association with terrestrial natures, but the other from doing
this with an excess of the passions. Hence, all the political virtues
which liberate the soul from one evil, may be denominated virtues, and
are honourable. But the cathartic are more honourable, and liberate it
from evil, so far as it is soul. It is necessary therefore, that the
soul, when purified, should associate with its generator. Hence, the
virtue of it, after its conversion, consists in a scientific knowledge of
[true] being; but this will not be the case, unless conversion precedes.

There is, therefore, another genus of virtues after the cathartic
and political, and which are the virtues of the soul _energizing
intellectually_. And here, indeed, wisdom and prudence consist in the
contemplation of those things which intellect possesses. But _justice_
consists in performing what is appropriate in conformity to, and
energizing according to intellect. _Temperance_ is an inward conversion
of the soul to intellect. And _fortitude_ is apathy, according to a
similitude of that to which the soul looks, and which is naturally
impassive. These virtues also, in the same manner as the others,
alternately follow each other.

The fourth species of the virtues, is that of the paradigms subsisting
in intellect: which are more excellent than the psychical virtues, and
exist as the paradigms of these; the virtues of the soul being the
similitudes of them. And intellect indeed is that in which all things
subsist at once as paradigms. Here, therefore, prudence is science; but
intellect that knows [all things] is wisdom. Temperance is that which is
converted to itself. The proper work of intellect, is the performance
of its appropriate duty, [and this is justice[170].] But fortitude is
sameness, and the abiding with purity in itself, through an abundance
of power. There are therefore four genera of virtues; of which, indeed,
some pertain to intellect, concur with the essence of it, and are
paradigmatic. Others pertain to soul now looking to intellect, and being
filled from it. Others belong to the soul of man, purifying itself, and
becoming purified from the body, and the irrational passions. And others
are the virtues of the soul of man, adorning the man, through giving
measure and bound to the irrational nature, and producing moderation
in the passions. _And he indeed, who has the greater virtues, has also
necessarily the less; but the contrary is not true, that he who has
the less, has also the greater virtues._ Nor will he who possesses the
greater, energize precedaneously according to the less, but only so far
as the necessities of the mortal nature require. The scope also of the
virtues, is, as we have said, generically different in the different
virtues. For the scope of the _political_ virtues, is to give measure
to the passions in their practical energies according to nature.
But the scope of the _cathartic_ virtues, is entirely to obliterate
the remembrance of the passions; and the scope of the rest subsists
analogously to what has been before said. Hence, he who energizes
according to the _practical_ virtues, is a _worthy_ man; but he who
energizes according to the _cathartic_ virtues, is an _angelic man_, or
is also _a good dæmon_. He who energizes according to the _intellectual_
virtues alone is _a God_; but he who energizes according to the
_paradigmatic_ virtues, is _the father of the Gods_. We, therefore, ought
especially to pay attention to the _cathartic_ virtues, since we may
obtain these in the present life. But through these, the ascent is to the
more honourable virtues. Hence, it is requisite to survey to what degree
purification may be extended: for it is a separation from body, and from
the passive motion of the irrational part. But how this may be effected,
and to what extent, must now be unfolded.

In the first place, indeed, it is necessary that he who intends to
acquire this purification, should, as the foundation and basis of it,
know himself to be a soul bound in a foreign thing, and in a different
essence. In the second place, as that which is raised from this
foundation, he should collect himself from the body, and as it were from
different places, so as to be disposed in a manner perfectly impassive
with respect to the body. For he who energizes uninterruptedly according
to sense, though he may not do this with an adhering affection, and the
enjoyment resulting from pleasure, yet, at the same time, his attention
is dissipated about the body, in consequence of becoming through
sense[171] in contact with it. But we are addicted to the pleasures or
pains of sensibles; in conjunction with a promptitude, and converging
sympathy; from which disposition it is requisite to be purified.
_This, however, will be effected by admitting necessary pleasures, and
the sensations of them, merely as remedies, or as a liberation from
pain[172], in order that [the rational part] may not be impeded [in its
energies]._ Pain also must be taken away. But if this is not possible,
it must be mildly diminished. And it will be diminished, if the soul
is not copassive with it. Anger, likewise, must as much as possible be
taken away; and must by no means be premeditated. But if it cannot be
entirely removed, deliberate choice must not be mingled with it, but
the unpremeditated motion must be the impulse of the irrational part.
_That however which is unpremeditated, is imbecile and small._ All fear
likewise must be expelled. For he who is adapted to this purification,
will fear nothing. Here, however, if it should take place, it will be
unpremeditated. Anger therefore and fear must be used for the purpose
of admonition. But the desire of every thing base must be exterminated.
Such a one also, so far as he is a cathartic philosopher, will not
desire meats and drinks [except so far as they are necessary]. Neither
must there be the unpremeditated in natural venereal connexions; _but if
this should take place, it must only be as far as to that precipitate
imagination which energizes in sleep_. In short, the intellectual soul
itself of the purified man must be liberated from all these [corporeal
propensities]. He must likewise endeavour, that what is moved to the
irrational nature of corporeal passions, may be moved without sympathy,
and without animadversion; so that the motions themselves may be
immediately dissolved, through their vicinity to the reasoning power.
This, however, will not take place while the purification is proceeding
to its perfection; but will happen to those in whom reason rules without
opposition. Hence, in these, the inferior part will so venerate reason,
that it will be indignant if it is at all moved, in consequence of not
being quiet when its master is present, and will reprove itself for its
imbecility. These, however, are yet only moderations of the passions,
but at length terminate in apathy. For when copassivity is entirely
exterminated, then apathy is present with him who is purified from this
passivity. For passion becomes moved when reason imparts excitation,
through verging [to the irrational nature].

35. Every thing which is situated somewhere, is there situated according
to its own nature, and not preternaturally. For body, therefore, which
subsists in matter and bulk, to be somewhere, is to be in place. Hence,
for the body of the world, which is material and has bulk, to be every
where, is to be extended with interval, and to subsist in the place
of interval. But a subsistence in place, is not at all present with
the intelligible world, nor, in short, with that which is immaterial,
and essentially incorporeal, because it is without bulk, and without
interval; so that the ubiquity of an incorporeal nature is not local.
Hence, neither will one part of it be here, but another there; for if
this were the case, it would not be out of place, nor without interval;
but wherever it is, the whole of it is there. Nor is it indeed in this,
but not in another place; for thus it would be comprehended by one place,
but separated from another. Nor is it remote from this thing, but near
to that; in the same manner as remoteness and nearness are asserted of
things which are adapted to be in place, according to the measures of
intervals. Hence, the sensible is present, indeed, with the intelligible
world, according to interval, but [a truly] incorporeal nature is
present with the world impartibly, and unaccompanied by interval. The
impartible, likewise, when it is in that which has interval, is wholly
in every part of it, being one and the same in number [in every part of
it]. That which is impartible, therefore, and without multitude, becomes
extended into magnitude, and multiplied, when intimately connected
with that which is naturally multitudinous, and endued with magnitude;
and thus the latter receives the former in such a way as it is adapted
to receive it, and not such as the former truly is. But that which is
partible and multitudinous, is received by that which is naturally
impartible and without multitude, impartibly and non-multitudinously, and
after this manner is present with it; _i.e._ the impartible is present
impartibly, without plurality, and without a subsistence in place,
conformably to its own nature, with that which is partible, and which is
naturally multitudinous, and exists in place. But that which is partible,
multiplied, and in place, is present with the impartible essence,
partibly, multitudinously, and locally. Hence, it is necessary, in the
survey of these natures, to preserve and not confound the peculiarities
of each; or rather, we should not imagine or opine of that which is
incorporeal, such properties as pertain to bodies, or any thing of the
like kind. For no one would ascribe to bodies the peculiarities of a
genuinely incorporeal essence. For all of us are familiar with bodies;
but the knowledge of incorporeal natures is attainable by us with great
difficulty; because, through not being able to behold them intuitively,
we are involved in doubt about their nature; and this takes place as long
as we are under the dominion of imagination.

Thus, therefore, you should say, If that which is in place, is out of,
or has departed from itself, through having proceeded into bulk, that
which is intelligible is not in place, and is in itself, because it
has not proceeded into corporeal extension. Hence, if the former is an
image, the latter is an archetype. And the former, indeed, derives its
being through the intelligible; but the latter subsists in [and through]
itself. For every [physical] image is the image of intellect. It is also
requisite that, calling to mind the peculiarities of both these, we
should not wonder at the discrepance which takes place in their congress
with each other; if, in short, it is proper on this occasion to use the
word congress. For we are not now surveying the congress of bodies, but
of things which are entirely distinct from each other, according to
peculiarity of hypostasis. Hence, also, this congress is different from
every thing which is usually surveyed in things essentially the same.
Neither, therefore, is it temperament, or mixture, or conjunction, or
apposition, but subsists in a way different from all these; appearing,
indeed, in all the mutual participations of consubstantial natures, in
whatever way this may be effected; but transcending every thing that
falls under the apprehension of sense. Hence, an intelligible essence is
wholly present without interval, with all the parts of that which has
interval, though they should happen to be infinite in number. Nor is
it present distributed into parts, giving a part to a part; nor being
multiplied, does it multitudinously impart itself to multitude; but it
is wholly present with the parts of that which is extended into bulk,
and with each individual of the multitude, and all the bulk impartibly,
and without plurality, and as numerically one. But it pertains to those
natures to enjoy it partibly, and in a distributed manner, whose power is
dissipated into different parts. And to these it frequently happens, that
through a defect of their own nature, they counterfeit an intelligible
essence; so that doubts arise respecting that essence, which appears to
have passed from its own nature into theirs.

36. Truly-existing being is neither great nor small, for magnitude
and parvitude are properly the peculiarities of bulk. But true being
transcends both magnitude and parvitude; and is above the greatest, and
above the least; and is numerically one and the same, though it is found
to be simultaneously participated by every thing that is greatest, and
every thing that is least. You must not, therefore, conceive of it as
something which is greatest; as you will then be dubious how, being that
which is greatest, it is present with the smallest masses, without being
diminished or contracted. Nor must you conceive of it as something which
is least; since you will thus again be dubious how, being that which is
least, it is present with the greatest masses, without being multiplied
or increased, or without receiving addition. But at one and the same time
receiving into the greatest magnitude that which transcends the greatest
bulk, and into the least magnitude that which transcends the least[173],
you will be able to conceive how the same thing, abiding in itself,
may be simultaneously seen in any casual magnitude, and in infinite
multitudes and corporeal masses. For according to its own peculiarity,
it is present with the magnitude of the world impartibly and without
magnitude. It also antecedes the bulk of the world, and comprehends every
part of it, in its own impartibility; just as, _vice versa_, the world,
by its multitude of parts, is multifariously present, as far as it is
able, with truly-existing being, yet cannot comprehend it, neither with
the whole of its bulk, nor the whole of its power; but meets with it in
all its parts as that which is infinite, and cannot be passed beyond;
and this both in other respects, and because truly-existing being is
entirely free from all corporeal extension.

37. That which is greater in bulk, is less in power, when compared, not
with things of a similar kind, but with those that are of a different
species, or of a different essence. For bulk is, as it were, the
departure of a thing from itself, and a division of power into the
smallest parts. Hence, that which transcends in power, is foreign from
all bulk. For power proceeding into itself, is filled with itself, and,
by corroborating itself, obtains its proper strength; on which account,
body proceeding into bulk through a diminution of power, is as much
remote from truly-incorporeal being, as that which truly exists is from
being exhausted by bulk; for the latter abides in the magnitude of the
same power, through an exemption from bulk. As, therefore, truly-existing
being is, with reference to a corporeal mass, without magnitude and
without bulk; thus also, that which is corporeal is, with reference
to truly-existing being, imbecile and powerless. For that which is
greatest by magnitude of power, is exempt from all bulk; so that the
world existing every where, and, as it is said, meeting with real being
which is truly every where, is not able to comprehend the magnitude of
its power. It meets, however, with true being, which is not partibly
present with it, but is present without magnitude, and without any
definite limitation. The presence, therefore, of truly-existing being
with the world, is not local, but assimilative, so far as it is possible
for body to be assimilated to that which is incorporeal, and for that
which is incorporeal to be surveyed in a body assimilated to it. Hence,
an incorporeal nature is not present with body, so far as it is not
possible for that which is material to be assimilated to a perfectly
immaterial nature; and it is present, so far as a corporeal can be
assimilated to an incorporeal essence. Nevertheless, this is not effected
through reception; since, if it were, each would be corrupted. For the
material, indeed, in receiving the immaterial nature, would be corrupted,
through being changed into it; and the immaterial essence would become
material. Assimilations, therefore, and participations of powers, and
the deficiency of power, proceed into things which are thus different
in essence from each other, into each other. The world, therefore, is
very far from possessing the power of real being; and real being is very
remote from the imbecility of a material nature. But that which subsists
between these, assimilating and being assimilated, and conjoining
the extremes to each other, becomes the cause of deception about the
extremes, in consequence of applying, through the assimilation, the one
to the other.

38. Truly-existing being is said to be many things, not by a subsistence
in different places, nor in the measures of bulk, nor by coacervation,
nor by the circumscriptions or comprehensions[174] of divisible parts,
but by a difference which is immaterial, without bulk, and without
plurality, and which is divided according to multitude. Hence, also,
it is one; not as one body, nor as in one place; nor as one bulk; nor
as one which is many things; because it is different so far as it is
one, and its difference is both divided and united. For its difference
is not externally acquired, nor adscititious, nor obtained through the
participation of something else, but it is many things from itself. For,
remaining one, it energizes with all energies, because, through sameness,
it constitutes all difference; not being surveyed in the difference of
one thing with respect to another, as is the case in bodies. For, on
the contrary, in these, unity subsists in difference; because diversity
has in them a precedaneous existence; but the unity which they contain
is externally and adscititiously derived. For in truly existing being,
indeed, unity and sameness precede; but difference is generated,
from this unity being energetic. _Hence, true being is multiplied in
impartibility; but body is united in multitude and bulk._ The former
also is established in itself, subsisting in itself according to unity;
but the latter is never in itself, because it receives its hypostasis in
an extension of existence. The former, therefore, is an all-energetic
one; but the latter is an united multitude. Hence, it is requisite to
explore how the former is one and different; and again, how the latter is
multitude and one. Nor must we transfer the peculiarities of the one to
those which pertain to the other.

39. It is not proper to think that the multitude of souls was generated
on account of the multitude of bodies; but it is necessary to admit
that, prior to bodies, there were many souls, and one soul [the cause
of the many]. Nor does the one and whole soul prevent the subsistence
in it of many souls; nor do the multitude of souls distribute by
division the one soul into themselves. For they are distinct from, but
are not abscinded from the soul, which ranks as a whole; nor do they
distribute into minute parts this whole soul into themselves. They are
also present with each other without confusion; nor do they produce the
whole soul by coacervation. For they are not separated from each other
by any boundaries; nor, again, are they confused with each other; just
as neither are many sciences confused in one soul [by which they are
possessed]. For these sciences do not subsist in the soul like bodies,
as things of a different essence from it; but they are certain energies
of the soul. For the nature of soul possesses an infinite power. Every
thing also that occurs in it is soul; and all souls are [in a certain
respect] one; and again, the soul which ranks as a whole, is different
from all the rest. For as bodies, though divided to infinity, do not
end in that which is incorporeal, but alone receive a difference of
segments according to bulk; thus also soul, being a vital form, may
be conceived to consist of forms _ad infinitum_. For it possesses
specific differences, and the whole of it subsists together with, or
without these. For, if there is in the soul that which is as it were a
part divided from the rest of the parts, yet, at the same time that
there is difference, the sameness remains. If, however, in bodies, in
which difference predominates over sameness, nothing incorporeal when
it accedes cuts off the union, but all the parts remain essentially
united, and are divided by qualities and other forms; what ought we to
assert and conceive of a specific incorporeal life, in which sameness
is more prevalent than difference; to which nothing foreign to form is
subjected, and from which the union of bodies is derived? Nor does body,
when it becomes connected with soul, cut off its union, though it is an
impediment to its energies in many respects. But the sameness of soul
produces and discovers all things through itself, through its specific
energy, which proceeds to infinity; since any part of it whatever is
capable of effecting all things, when it is liberated and purified from
a conjunction with bodies; just as any part of seed possesses the power
of the whole seed. As, however, seed, when it is united with matter,
predominates over it, according to each of the productive principles
which the seeds contain; and all the seed, its power being collected into
one, possesses the whole of its power in each of the parts; thus also,
in the immaterial soul, that which may be conceived as a part, has the
power of the whole soul. But that part of it which verges to matter, is
vanquished, indeed, by the form to which it verges, and yet is adapted to
associate with immaterial form, though it is connected with matter, when
withdrawing itself from a material nature, it is converted to itself.
Since, however, through verging to matter, it becomes in want of all
things, and suffers an emptiness of its proper power; but when it is
elevated to intellect, is found to possess a plenitude of all its powers;
hence those who first obtained a knowledge of this plenitude of the soul,
very properly indicated its emptiness by calling it _poverty_, and its
fulness by denominating it _satiety_.


SECTION III.

40. The ancients, wishing to exhibit to us the peculiarity of incorporeal
being, so far as this can be effected by words, when they assert that
it is one, immediately add, that it is likewise all things; by which
they signified that it is not some one[175] of the things which are
known by the senses. Since, however, we suspect that this incorporeal
one is different from sensibles, in consequence of not perceiving
this total one, which is all things according to one, in a sensible
nature, and which is so because this one is all things:—hence the
ancients added, that _it is one so far as one_; in order that we might
understand that what is all things in truly existing being, is something
uncompounded, and that we might withdraw ourselves from the conception
of a coacervation. When likewise they say that it is every where, they
add that it is no where. When also they assert that it is in all things,
they add, that it is no where in every thing. Thus, too, when they say,
that it is in all things, and in every divisible nature which is adapted
to receive it, they add, that it is a whole in a whole. And, in short,
they render it manifest to us, through contrary peculiarities; at one and
the same time assuming these, in order that we may exterminate, from the
apprehension of it, the fictitious conceptions which are derived from
bodies, and which obscure the cognoscible peculiarities of real being.

41. When you have assumed an eternal essence, infinite in itself
according to power, and begin to perceive intellectually an hypostasis
unwearied, untamed, and never-failing, but transcending in the most
pure and genuine life, and full from itself; and which is likewise
established in itself, satisfied with, and seeking nothing but itself:—to
this essence, if you add a subsistence in place, or a relation to a
certain thing, at the same time that you [appear to] diminish it, by
ascribing to it an indigence of place, or a relative condition of being,
you do not [in reality] diminish this essence, but you separate yourself
from the perception of it, by receiving as a veil the phantasy which runs
under your conjectural apprehension of it. For you cannot pass beyond,
or stop, or render more perfect, or effect the least change in a thing
of this kind, because it is impossible for it to be in the smallest
degree deficient. For it is much more never-failing than any perpetually
flowing fountain can be conceived to be. If, however, you are unable
to keep pace with it, and to become assimilated to the intelligible
all, you should not investigate any thing pertaining to real being;
or, if you do, you will deviate from the path that leads to it, and
will look to something else. But if you investigate nothing else, being
established in yourself and your own essence, you will be assimilated to
the intelligible universe, and will not adhere to any thing posterior
to it. Neither, therefore, should you say, I am of a great magnitude.
For, omitting this greatness, you will become universal; though you were
universal prior to this. But, together with the universal, something else
was present with you, and you became less by the addition; because the
addition was not from truly-existing being. For to that you cannot add
any thing. When, therefore, any thing is added from non-being, a place is
afforded to Poverty as an associate, accompanied by an indigence of all
things. Hence, dismissing non-being, you will then become sufficient to
yourself[176]. For he will not return properly to himself who does not
dismiss things of a more vile and abject nature, and who opines himself
to be something naturally small, and not to be such as he truly is. For
thus he, at one and the same time, departs both from himself, and from
truly-existing being. When, also, any one is present with that which is
present in himself, then he is present with true being, which is every
where. But when you withdraw from yourself, then, likewise, you recede
from real being;—of such great consequence is it, for a man to be present
with that which is present with himself, [_i.e._ with his rational
part], and to be absent from that which is external to him.

If, however, true being is present with us, but non-being is absent,
and real being is not present with us in conjunction with other things
[of a nature foreign to it]; it does not accede in order that it may be
present, but we depart from it, when it is not present [with things of
a different nature]. And why should this be considered as wonderful?
For you when present are not absent from yourself; and yet you are not
present with yourself, though present. And you are both present with and
absent from yourself when you survey other things, and omit to behold
yourself. If, therefore, you are thus present, and yet not [in reality]
present with yourself, and on this account are ignorant of yourself,
and in a greater degree discover all things, though remote from your
essence, than yourself, with which you are naturally present, why should
you wonder if that which is not present is remote from you who are remote
from it, because you have become remote from yourself? For, by how much
the more you are [truly] present with yourself, though it is present, and
inseparably conjoined with you, by so much the more will you be present
with real being, which is so essentially united to you, that it is as
impossible for it to be divulsed from you, as for you to be separated
from yourself. So that it is universally possible to know what is present
with real being, and what is absent from it, though it is every where
present, and again is also no where. For those who are able to proceed
into their own essence intellectually, and to obtain a knowledge of
it, will, in the knowledge itself, and the science accompanying this
knowledge, be able to recover or regain themselves, through the union
of that which knows with that which is known. And with those, who are
present with themselves, truly-existing being will also be present. But
from such as abandon the proper being of themselves to other things,—from
these, as they are absent from themselves, true being will also be
absent. If, however, we are naturally adapted to be established in the
same essence, to be rich from ourselves, and not to descend to that which
we are not; in so doing becoming in want of ourselves, and thus again
associating with Poverty, though Porus[177] [or Plenty] is present;—and
if we are cut off from real being, from which we are not separated either
by place, or essence, nor by any thing else, through our conversion to
non-being, we suffer as a just punishment of our abandonment of true
being, a departure from, and ignorance of ourselves. And again, by a
proper attention to, we recover ourselves, and become united to divinity.
It is, therefore, rightly said, that the soul is confined in body as in
a prison, and is there detained in chains like a fugitive slave[178].
We should, however, [earnestly] endeavour to be liberated from our
bonds. For, through being converted to these sensible objects, we desert
ourselves, though we are of a divine origin, and are, as Empedocles says,

    Heaven’s exiles, straying from the orb of light.

So that every depraved life is full of servitude; and on this account
is without God and unjust, the spirit in it being full of impiety, and
consequently of injustice. And thus, again, it is rightly said, that
justice is to be found in the performance of that which is the province
of him who performs it. The image also of true justice consists in
distributing to each of those with whom we live, that which is due to the
desert of each.

42. That which possesses its existence in another [_i.e._ in something
different from itself], and is not essentialized in itself, separably
from another, if it should be converted to itself, in order to know
itself, without that in which it is essentialized, withdrawing itself
from it; would be corrupted by this knowledge, in consequence of
separating itself from its essence. But that which is able to know
itself without the subject in which it exists, and is able to withdraw
itself from this subject, without the destruction of itself, cannot be
essentialized in that, from which it is capable of converting itself
to itself, without being corrupted, and of knowing itself by its own
energies. Hence, if sight, and every sensitive power, neither perceives
itself, nor apprehends or preserves itself by separating itself
from body; but intellect, when it separates itself from body, then
especially perceives intellectually, is converted to itself, and is not
corrupted;—it is evident that the sensitive powers obtain the power of
energizing through the body; but that intellect possesses its energies
and its essence not in body, but in itself.

43. Incorporeal natures are properly denominated, and conceived to be
what they are, according to a privation of body; just as, according to
the ancients, matter, and the form which is in matter, and also natures
and [physical] powers, are apprehended by an abstraction from matter.
And after the same manner place, time, and the boundaries of things, are
apprehended. For all such things are denominated according to a privation
of body. There are likewise other things which are said to be incorporeal
improperly, not according to a privation of body, but, in short, because
they are not naturally adapted to generate body[179]. Hence those of
the former signification subsist in bodies; but those of the second are
perfectly separated from bodies, and from those incorporeal natures which
subsist about bodies. For bodies, indeed, are in place, and boundaries
are in body. But intellect, and intellectual reason, neither subsist
in place nor in body; nor proximately give existence to bodies, nor
subsist together with bodies, or with those incorporeal natures which
are denominated according to a privation of bodies. Neither, therefore,
if a certain incorporeal vacuum should be conceived to exist, would it
be possible for intellect to be in a vacuum. For a vacuum may be the
recipient of body; but it is impossible that it should be the recipient
of intellect, and afford a place for its energy. Since, however, the
genus of an incorporeal nature appears to be twofold, one of these the
followers of Zeno do not at all admit, but they adopt the other; and
perceiving that the former is not such as the latter, they entirely
subvert it, though they ought rather to conceive that it is of another
genus, and not to fancy that, because it is not the latter, it has no
existence.

44. Intellect and the intelligible are one thing, and sense and that
which is sensible another. And the intelligible, indeed, is conjoined
with intellect, but that which is sensible with sense. Neither, however,
can sense by itself apprehend itself.... But the intelligible, which
is conjoined with intellect, and intellect, which is conjoined with
the intelligible, by no means fall under the perception of sense.
Intellect, however, is intelligible to intellect. But if intellect is the
intelligible object of intellect, intellect will be its own intelligible
object. If, therefore, intellect is an intellectual and not a sensible
object, it will be intelligible. But if it is intelligible to intellect,
and not to sense, it will also be intelligent. The same thing, therefore,
will be that which is intelligent, or intellectually perceives, and
which is intellectually perceived, or is intelligible; and this will be
true of the whole with respect to the whole; but not as he who rubs,
and he who is rubbed. Intellect, therefore, does not intellectually
perceive by one part, and is intellectually perceived by another: for
it is impartible, and the whole is an intelligible object of the whole.
It is likewise wholly intellect, having nothing in itself which can be
conceived to be deprived of intelligence. Hence one part of it does not
intellectually perceive, but not another part of it[180]. For, so far as
it does not intellectually perceive, it will be unintelligent. Neither,
therefore, departing from this thing, does it pass on to that. For of
that from which it departs, it has no intellectual perception. But if
there is no transition in its intellections, it intellectually perceives
all things at once. If, therefore, it understands all things at once, and
not this thing now, but another afterwards, it understands all things
instantaneously and always....[181]

Hence, if all things are instantaneously perceived by it, its perceptions
have nothing to do with the past and the future, but subsist in an
indivisible untemporal _now_; so that the simultaneous, both according
to multitude, and according to temporal interval, are present with
intellect. Hence, too, all things subsist in it according to one, and
in one, without interval, and without time. But if this be the case,
there is nothing discursive or transitive in its intellections, and
consequently they are without motion. Hence, they are energies according
to one, subsisting in one, and without increase or mutation, or any
transition. If, however, the multitude subsists according to one, and
the energy is collected together at once, and without time, an essence
of this kind must necessarily always subsist in [an intelligible] one.
But this is eternity. Hence, eternity is present with intellect. That
nature, however, which does not perceive intellectually according to one,
and in one, but transitively, and with motion, so that in understanding
it leaves one thing and apprehends another, divides and proceeds
discursively,—this nature [which is soul] subsists in conjunction with
time. For with a motion of this kind, the future and the past are
consubsistent. But soul, changing its conceptions, passes from one thing
to another; not that the prior conceptions depart, and the posterior
accede in their place, but there is, as it were, a transition of the
former, though they remain in the soul, and the latter accede, as if from
some other place. They do not, however, accede in reality from another
place; but they appear to do so in consequence of the self-motion of the
soul, and through her eye being directed to a survey of the different
forms which she contains, and which have the relation of parts to her
whole essence. For she resembles a fountain not flowing outwardly,
but circularly scattering its streams into itself. With the motion,
therefore, of soul, time is consubsistent; but eternity is consubsistent
with the permanency of intellect in itself[182]. It is not, however,
divided from intellect in the same manner as time is from soul; because
in intellect the consubsistent essences are united. But that which is
perpetually moved, is the source of a false opinion of eternity, through
the immeasurable extent of its motion producing a conception of eternity.
And that which abides [in one,] is falsely conceived to be the same with
that which is [perpetually] moved. For that which is perpetually moved,
evolves the time of itself in the same manner as _the now_ of itself,
and multiplies it, according to a temporal progression. Hence, some have
apprehended that time is to be surveyed in permanency no less than in
motion; and that eternity, as we have said, is infinite time; just as
if each of these imparted its own properties to the other; time, which
is always moved, adumbrating eternity by the perpetuity of itself, and
the sameness of its motion; and eternity, through being established
in sameness of energy, becoming similar to time, by the permanency of
itself arising from energy. In sensibles, however, the time of one thing
is distinct from that of another. Thus, for instance, there is one time
of the sun, and another of the moon, one time of the morning-star, and
another of each of the planets. Hence, also, there is a different year
of different planets. The year, likewise, which comprehends these times,
terminates as in a summit in the motion of the soul [of the universe,]
according to the imitation of which the celestial orbs are moved. The
motion of this soul, however, being of a different nature from that of
the planets, the time of the former also is different from that of the
latter. For the latter subsists with interval, and is distinguished from
the former by local motions and transitions.


FOOTNOTES:

[146] In the original, Ου το ποιουν εις αλλο, πελασει και αφῃ ποιει, α
ποιει· κ.τ.λ. But it is evident, from the sense of the whole passage,
that, for Ου το ποιουν, we should read, Ου παν το ποιουν, κ.τ.λ.

[147] The article ο is wanting here in the original before ετερος.

[148] Knowledge subsists conformably to the nature by which it is
possessed, and not conformably to the thing known. Hence it is either
better than, or co-ordinate with, or inferior to the object of knowledge.
Thus the rational soul has a knowledge of sensibles, which is superior
to sensibles; but it knows itself with a co-ordinate knowledge; and its
knowledge of divinity is inferior to the object of knowledge. Porphyry,
therefore, is not correct in what he here says. This dogma respecting the
conformity of knowledge to that which knows, rather than to the thing
known, originated from the divine Iamblichus, as we are informed by
Ammonius in his commentary on Aristotle’s treatise De Interpretatione,
and is adopted by Proclus (in Parmenid.). Boetius likewise employs it in
his reasoning in lib. v. about the prescience of divinity. None of his
commentators, however, have noticed the source from whence it was derived.

[149] Because here the generator is that _primarily_ which the thing
generated is _secondarily_. See my translation of Proclus’s Theological
Elements.

[150] Porphyry here summarily comprehends the rational gnostic powers
of the soul in intellect, because, being rational, they are expansions
of intellect properly so called. But these powers, beginning from the
lowest, are _opinion_, _dianoia_, and the summit of dianoia, which summit
is the intellect of the human soul, and is that power, by the light of
which we perceive the truth of axioms, it being intuitive perception.
_Dianoia_ is the discursive energy of reason; or it is that power which
reasons scientifically, deriving the principles of its reasoning from
intellect. And _opinion_ is that power which knows _that_ a thing is, but
is ignorant of the cause of it, or _why_ it is.

[151] In the original, ει δε μη εξω εκτεινομενος; but for ει δε μη, it
appears to me to be obviously necessary to read ουδε μη.

[152] In the original, εξω δε οντων υλης, ουδαμου αν ειη ταυτα; which
Holstenius, wholly mistaking the meaning, most erroneously translates,
“At si extra materiam sint, neutiquam id fieri poterit.” Farther on,
Porphyry asserts, that God, intellect, and soul, are no where, according
to corporeal locality.

[153] In the original, η μνημη ουκ εστι φαντασιων σωτηρια, αλλα των
μελετηθεντων προβαλλεσθαι εκ νεας προβληματα. But for προβληματα, I read
προλημματα. This power, by which Porphyry characterizes memory, is of a
stable nature. And hence memory is _stability of knowledge_, in the same
manner as immortality is _stability of life_, and eternity _stability of
being_.

[154] See the notes on the 3d book of my translation of Aristotle’s
treatise on the Soul, and also my translation of Plotinus on Felicity.
“The phantasy,” says Olympiodorus (in Platonis Phæd.) “is an impediment
to our intellectual conceptions; and hence, when we are agitated by
the inspiring influence of Divinity, if the phantasy intervenes, the
enthusiastic energy ceases: for enthusiasm and the phantasy are contrary
to each other. Should it be asked, whether the soul is able to energize
without the phantasy? we reply, that its perception of universals
proves that it is able. It has perceptions, therefore, independent of
the phantasy; at the same time, however, the phantasy attends it in its
energies, just as a storm pursues him who sails on the sea.”

[155] The analogy of the soul to harmony, is more accurately unfolded as
follows, by Olympiodorus, in his Commentary on the Phædo of Plato, than
it is in this place by Porphyry: “Harmony has a triple subsistence. For
it is either harmony itself, or it is that which is first harmonized, and
which is such according to the whole of itself; or it is that which is
secondarily harmonized, and which partially participates of harmony. The
first of these must be assigned to intellect, the second to soul, and the
third to body. This last, too, is corruptible, because it subsists in a
subject; but the other two are incorruptible, because they are neither
composites, nor dependent on a subject. Hence, the rational soul is
analogous to a musician, but the animated body to harmonized chords; for
the former has a subsistence separate, but the latter inseparable from
the musical instrument.”

[156] What Porphyry here says about matter, is derived from the treatise
of Plotinus, _On the Impassivity of Incorporeal Natures_, to my
translation of which I refer the reader.

[157] See my translation of the before-mentioned treatise of Plotinus.

[158] For τα οντα here, I read τα αυτα.

[159] Hence, it is beautifully said in the Clavis of Hermes Trismegistus,
“that the knowledge of _the good_ [or the supreme principle of things],
is a divine silence, and the quiescence of all the senses.” See, also, on
this subject, a most admirable extract from Damascius, περι αρχων, at the
end of the 3d volume of my Plato.

[160] For that which is truly incorporeal, is _every where_ virtually,
_i.e._ in power and efficacy, but is _no where_ locally.

[161] For μερισταις here, I read, μερικαις. For Porphyry is here speaking
of essences which are opposed to _such as rank as wholes_, as is evident
from the whole of this paragraph.

[162] The primary natures of which Porphyry is now speaking, are rational
partial souls, such as ours; for the natures superior to these, are never
converted to beings posterior to themselves.

[163] For αυτου, _isthic_, I read, αυτος.

[164] In the original, και ψυχη εν νῳ τε και θεῳ πανταχου, και ουδαμου εν
σωματι, but it appears to me to be necessary to read, και ψυχη εν νῳ τε
και θεῳ, και πανταχου και ουδαμου εν σωματι.

[165] και εν νῳ, is omitted in the original, but ought to be inserted, as
is evident from the version of Holstenius.

[166] The irrational life is a thing of this kind, which is partly
separable and partly inseparable from body. Hence, so far as it is
inseparable from body, it partakes of the _every where_; but, so far as
it is separable, of the _no where_.

[167] _i.e._ The animal spirit, or pneumatic soul, in which the rational
soul suffers her punishments in Hades.

[168] _i.e._ That part of the soul which is the source of all-various
desires.

[169] This philosophic apathy is not, as is stupidly supposed by most of
the present day, insensibility, but a perfect subjugation of the passions
to reason.

[170] The words και δικαιοσυνη, are omitted in the original. But it is
evident from the treatise of Plotinus “On the Virtues,” that they ought
to be inserted. For what Porphyry says in this Section about the virtues,
is derived from that treatise.

[171] Instead of κατ’ αυτην, here it is necessary to read, κατ’ αισθησιν.

[172] Conformably to this, as we have before observed, Aristotle says in
the 7th Book of his Nicomachean Ethics, “that corporeal pleasures are
remedies against pain, and that they fill up the indigence of nature, but
perfect no energy of the rational soul.”

[173] In the original, αλλα το εκβεβηκος τον μεγιστον ογκον, εις το
μεγιστον, και τον ελαχιστον εις το ελαχιστον, αμα λαβων, κ.τ.λ. This
Holstenius most erroneously translates, “Verum id quod maximam molem
intervallo maximo, et minimam minimo excedit simul sumens, &c.” For a
truly incorporeal nature, such as that of which Porphyry is now speaking,
has nothing to do with interval, and, therefore, does not by interval
surpass either the greatest or the least corporeal mass; but is received
transcendently by the greatest and the least magnitude.

[174] For διαληψεσιν, here, I read καταληψεσιν, and Holstenius also has
in this place _comprehensionibus_.

[175] In the original, καθο εν τι των κατ’ αισθησιν συνεγνωσμενων; but it
appears to me to be necessary, after καθο, to insert the words ουκ εστιν.
For incorporeal being is not like some one of the things which are known
by the senses, because no one of these is one, and, at the same time, all
things. Holstenius did not perceive the necessity of this emendation, as
is evident from his version of the passage.

[176] Immediately after this something is wanting in the original, (as is
evident from the asterisks,) which, as it appears to me, no conjecture
can appropriately supply.

[177] In the original, και δια τουτων παλιν τῃ πενιᾳ συνειναι, καιπερ
παροντος αυτου; but for αυτου, I read πορου; as it appears to me that
Porphyry is here alluding to what is said by Diotima, in the Banquet of
Plato, concerning the parents of Love, viz. that they are _Poverty_ and
_Porus_, or _Plenty_.

[178] See the Phædo of Plato. But something is here wanting in the
original, as is evident not only from the asterisks, but from the want of
connexion in the words themselves.

[179] _i.e._ They are not adapted to be the immediate causes of body,
because they are perfectly separated from it. The original is, ηδη δε ην
αλλα καταχρηστικως λεγομενα ασωματα, ου κατα στερησιν σωματος, κατα δε
ολως μη πεφυκεναι γεννᾳν σωμα. Holstenius, not understanding what is here
said by Porphyry, translates the words κατα δε ολως μη πεφυκεναι γεννᾳν
σωμα, “sed quod nullum omnino corpus generare possunt.” For Porphyry, as
is evident from what immediately follows, is here speaking of natures
which are perfectly separated from bodies, and which are, therefore, not
naturally adapted to be the immediate generators of them, not through any
deficiency, but through transcendency of power.

[180] In the original, διο ουχι τοδε μεν εαυτου νοει, τοδε δε ου νοει,
which Holstenius erroneously translates, “Ideoque non quidem unam sui
partem intelligit, alteram vero non intelligit.” For Porphyry is not here
speaking of intellect surveying its parts, but of its being _wholly_
intellective. This is evident from what immediately follows.

[181] The asterisks in the original denote something is wanting.
Nevertheless, what immediately follows them, is evidently connected with
what immediately precedes.

[182] See the fourth book of my translation of Proclus, on the Timæus
of Plato, in which the nature of time and eternity is most admirably
unfolded. See, also, my translation of Plotinus, on Eternity and Time. In
these works, what both these divine men have said of eternity, and what
the former has said of time, contains, as it appears to me, the _ne plus
ultra_ of philosophical investigation on these most abstruse subjects.




APPENDIX.




APPENDIX.

ON THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES.


In my History of the Restoration of the Platonic Theology [see Vol. II.
of my Proclus on Euclid,] and in a note accompanying my translation
of the treatise of Porphyry, on the Cave of the Nymphs, in that work,
I attempted, from the hints afforded by Porphyry, and the work of an
anonymous Greek writer, De Ulyxis Erroribus, to unfold the latent meaning
of the wanderings of Ulysses, as narrated by Homer. But as, from my
continued application to the philosophy of Plato for upwards of forty
years, I now know much more of that philosophy than I then did, a period
of thirty-five years having elapsed from that to the present time, I
shall again attempt to explain those wanderings, rejecting some things,
and retaining others which I had adopted before.

In the first place, it is necessary to observe, that Ulysses does not
rank among the first heroic characters, or in other words, he was not
one of those heroes who descend into the regions of mortality at certain
periods, not only in compliance with that necessity through which all
partial souls such as ours descend periodically, but also for the purpose
of benefiting others, and leading them back to their pristine state of
perfection. Hence, he was by no means such an exalted hero as Hercules,
or Pythagoras, or Socrates, or Plato; for they largely benefited others;
but he only benefited himself. For all his companions perished prior
to his arrival at Ithaca. So that he was able to save himself, but not
others. “Hence,” says Olympiodorus, in his MS. Scholia on the Gorgias
of Plato, “it is said, that Ulysses wandered on the sea by the will of
Neptune. For by this it is signified that the Odyssean life was neither
terrestrial, nor yet celestial, but between these. Since, therefore,
Neptune is the lord of the middle natures, on this account it is said,
that Ulysses wandered through the will of Neptune, because he had a
Neptunian allotment. Thus, also, theologists speak of the sons of
Jupiter, Neptune, and Pluto, regarding the allotment of each. For we say,
that he who has a divine and celestial polity, is the son of Jupiter;
that he who has a terrestrial polity, is the son of Pluto; and he is the
son of Neptune, whose polity or allotment is between these[183].” Hence
Ulysses, from his Neptunian allotment, was a man who ranked among the
middle class of characters that transcend the majority of mankind.

In the next place, in order to understand accurately the recondite
meaning of the wanderings of Ulysses, it is requisite to know what the
most divine and theological poet Homer indicates by the Trojan war in
the Iliad. For Homer, by combining fiction with historical facts, has
delivered to us some very occult, mystic, and valuable information, in
those two admirable poems, the Iliad and Odyssey. Hence, by those who
directed their attention to this recondite information, he was said,
conformably to the tragical mode of speaking, which was usual with
the most ancient writers, to have been blind, because, as Proclus
observes[184], he separated himself from sensible beauty, and extended
the intellect of his soul to invisible and true harmony. He was said,
therefore, to be blind, because _that_ intellectual beauty to which he
raised himself cannot be perceived by corporeal eyes. Thus, too, Orpheus
is tragically said to have been lacerated in an all-various manner,
because men of that age _partially_ participated of his mystic doctrine.
The _principal part_ of it, however, was received by the Lesbians; and
on this account, his _head_, when separated from his body, is said to
have been carried to Lesbos. Hence, the Platonic Hermeas, conformably to
this opinion of the occult meaning of the Iliad, beautifully explains as
follows the Trojan war, in his Scholia on the Phædrus of Plato:

“By _Ilion_, we must understand the generated and material place, which
is so denominated from _mud and matter_ (παρα την ιλυν και την υλην,) and
in which there are war and sedition. But the Trojans are material forms,
and all the lives which subsist about bodies. Hence, also, the Trojans
are called _genuine_ (ιθαγενεις). For all the lives which subsist about
bodies, and irrational[185] souls, are favourable and attentive to their
proper matter. On the contrary, the Greeks are rational souls, coming
from Greece, _i.e._ from the intelligible into matter. Hence, the Greeks
are called _foreigners_ (επηλυδες,) and vanquish the Trojans, as being
of a superior order. But they fight with each other about the image of
Helen, as the poet says [about the image of Eneas].

    Around the phantom Greeks and Trojans fight[186].

Helen signifying intelligible beauty, being a certain _vessel_ (ελενοη
τις ουσα,) attracting to itself intellect. An efflux, therefore, of this
intelligible beauty is imparted to matter through Venus; and about this
efflux of beauty the Greeks fight with the Trojans [_i.e._ rational
with irrational lives[187]]. And those, indeed, that oppose and vanquish
matter, return to the intelligible world, which is their true country;
but those who do not, as is the case with the multitude, are bound to
matter. As, therefore, the prophet, in the tenth book of the Republic,
previously to the descent of souls, announces to them how they may return
[to their pristine felicity], according to periods of a thousand and
ten thousand years; thus, also, Calchas predicts to the Greeks their
return in ten years, the number ten being the symbol of a perfect period.
And as, in the lives of souls, some are elevated through philosophy,
others through the amatory art, and others through the royal and warlike
disciplines; so with respect to the Greeks, some act with rectitude
through prudence, but others through war or love, and their return is
different [according to their different pursuits].”

The first obviously fabulous adventure, then, of Ulysses, is that of the
Lotophagi, which Homer beautifully narrates, and whose narration Pope
very elegantly translates as follows:

    The trees around them all their fruit produce,
    Lotos the name, and dulcet is the juice[188]!
    (Thence call’d Lotophagi) which, whoso tastes,
    Insatiate riots in the sweet repasts,
    Nor other home, nor other care intends,
    But quits his house, his country, and his friends.
    The three we sent from off th’ enchanting ground
    We dragg’d reluctant, and by force we bound:
    The rest in haste forsook the pleasing shore,
    Or, the charm tasted, had return’d no more[189].

Plato, in the 8th book of his Republic, has admirably unfolded to us
what the _lotos_ occultly indicates, viz. that it signifies “false and
arrogant reasonings and opinions:” for daily experience shows that
nothing is more enchanting and delicious than these to such as have made
no solid proficiency in virtue, and who, like some of the companions of
Ulysses, being fascinated by erroneous conceptions, consign their true
country and true kindred to oblivion, and desire to live for ever lost in
the intoxication of fallacious delight.

The next adventure of Ulysses is that of the Cyclops, whom he deprived
of sight, and irritated by reproaches. But according to Porphyry, in
the above-mentioned excellent treatise, this is no other than the natal
dæmon of Ulysses, or the dæmon to whose protecting power he became
subject, as soon as he was born[190]. In order, however, to understand
perfectly the arcane meaning of this fable, it is necessary to observe,
that according to the ancient theology, those souls that in the present
life will speedily return to their pristine felicity in the intelligible
world, have not the essential dæmon, or the dæmon which is inseparable
from the essence of the soul, different from the dæmon that presides
over the birth; for they are one and the same. But the case is otherwise
with more imperfect souls; as the natal is in these different from the
_essential_ dæmon[191]. As Ulysses, therefore, does not rank among the
more perfect heroic characters, and was not one who in the present life
is immediately ascending to his kindred star, or, in Platonic language,
to the paternal port, the soul’s true paradise of rest; but was a man
who, prior to this, had many laborious wanderings to accomplish, and many
difficulties and dangers of no common magnitude to sustain, his _natal_
was not the same with his _essential_ dæmon. As he is, however, departing
from a sensible to an intellectual life, though circuitously and slowly,
he is represented in so doing as blinding and irritating his _natal_
dæmon. For he who blinds the eye of sense, and extinguishes its light,
after his will has profoundly assented to its use, must expect punishment
for the deed; as necessary ultimately to his own peculiar good, and the
general order of the universe. Indeed, troubles and misfortunes resulting
from such undertakings, not only contribute to appease the anger of their
authors, but likewise purify and benefit the subjects of their revenge.
According to the Greek theology, therefore, he who, in the present life,
while he is in the road of virtue, and is eagerly searching for wisdom,
perceives that there is a great resemblance between his destiny and that
of Ulysses, may safely conclude, that either here, or in a prior state of
existence, he has voluntarily submitted to the power of his natal dæmon,
and has now deprived him of sight; or in other words, has abandoned
a life of sense; and that he has been profoundly delighted with the
nature of matter, and is now abrogating the confessions which he made.
This, too, is insinuated in the beautiful story of Cupid and Psyche,
by Apuleius, when the terrestrial Venus sends Mercury with a book in
which her name is inscribed, to apprehend Psyche as a fugitive from her
mistress. For this whole story relates to the descent of the soul into
this terrene body, and its wanderings and punishments, till it returns to
its true country and pristine felicity[192].

In the next fable, which is that of Æolus, the poet appears to me to
signify that providence of divinity which is of an elevating and guardian
nature, the influence of which, when properly received by the subjects
of it, enables them to pass with security over the stormy sea of life to
their native land; but when this influence is neglected through the sleep
of reason, the negligence is followed by a temporary destruction of hope.
This providence also of the Gods is not only one, but _all-various_,
which Homer appears to indicate by Æolus; the word αιολος signifying
various and manifold. As the advancement, therefore, of Ulysses in the
virtues is as yet imperfect, extending no farther than to the _ethical_
and _political_, which are but adumbrations of the _true_ virtues, the
cathartic and theoretic[193], he is said to have fallen asleep, and to
have been thereby disappointed of his wishes, his soul not being at that
time in a truly vigilant state, as not having yet elevated its eye to
real being from objects of sense which resemble the delusions of dreams.

By the adventure of the Lestrigons, which follows in the next place,
Homer represents to us Ulysses flying from voracity, and fierce and
savage manners; a flight indispensably necessary, as preparatory to his
attainment of the higher virtues.

In the next adventure, which contains the beautiful allegory of Circe,
we shall find some deep arcana of philosophy contained, exclusive of its
connexion with Ulysses. By the Æean isle, then, in which the palace of
Circe was situated, the region of sorrow and lamentation is signified,
as is evident from the name of the island itself. And, by Circe, we must
understand the Goddess of sense. For thus Porphyry, in Stobæus, p. 141:
“Homer calls the period and revolution of regeneration in a circle,
Circe, the daughter of the Sun, who perpetually connects and combines all
corruption with generation, and generation again with corruption.” And
this is asserted still more explicitly by Proclus, in his Scholia on the
Cratylus of Plato. For he says, “Circe is that divine power which weaves
all the life contained in the four elements, and, at the same time, by
her song harmonizes the whole sublunary world. But the shuttle with
which she weaves, is represented by theologists as golden, because her
essence is intellectual, pure, immaterial, and unmingled with generation;
all which is signified by the shuttle being golden. And her employment
consists in _separating_[194] stable things from such as are in motion,
according to divine diversity.” And he also informs us, “that Circe
ranks among the divinities who preside over generation, or the regions
of sense.” Homer, too, with great propriety, represents Circe, who
rules over the realms of generation, as waited on by Nymphs sprung from
fountains; for Nymphs, says Hermias (in Plat. Phædrum,) are Goddesses who
preside over regeneration, and are the attendants of Bacchus, the son
of Semele. On this account, they are present with water; that is, they
ascend, as it were, into, and rule over generation. But this Dionysius,
or Bacchus, supplies the regeneration of every sensible nature.

Hence we may observe, that the Æean isle, or this region of sense, is,
with great propriety, called the abode of trouble and lamentation. In
this region, then, the companions of Ulysses, in consequence of being
very imperfect characters, are changed, through the incantations of the
Goddess, into brutes, _i.e._ into unworthy and irrational habits and
manners. Ulysses, however, as one who is returning, though slowly, to
the proper perfection of his nature, is, by the assistance of Mercury,
or reason, prevented from destruction. Hence intellect, roused by its
impassive power, and at the same time armed with prudent anger, and the
plant moly, or temperance, which is able to repel the allurements of
pleasure, wars on sensible delight, and prevents the effects of its
transforming power. Ulysses, also, though he was not able to lead his
companions back to their native land, the paternal port of the soul, yet
saves them from being transformed, through the enchantments of sense,
into an irrational life.

After this follows the allegory respecting the descent of Ulysses into
_Hades_, which occultly signifies, that he still lived a life according
to sense, and not according to intellect, and that, in consequence
of not having yet vanquished a terrestrial life, he was involved in
_obscurity_. For ancient wise men universally considered Hades as
commencing in the present state of existence, and that sense is nothing
more than the energy of the dormant soul, and a perception, as it were,
of the delusions of dreams, as I have abundantly proved in my treatise
on the Mysteries. The secret meaning, also, of what Ulysses saw in
Hades, is no less beautiful than profound, as the following extract
from the manuscript Commentary of Olympiodorus, on the Gorgias of
Plato, abundantly evinces: “Ulysses,” says he, “descending into Hades,
saw, among others, Sysiphus, and Tityus, and Tantalus. And Tityus he
saw lying on the earth, and a vulture devouring his liver; the liver
signifying that he lived solely according to the _epithymetic_ part of
his nature [or that part of the soul which is the source of desires,]
and that through this, indeed, he was, indeed, internally prudent;
but earth signifying the terrestrial condition of his prudence. But
Sysiphus, living under the dominion of ambition and anger, was employed
in continually rolling a stone up an eminence, because it perpetually
descended again; its descent implying the vicious government of himself;
and his rolling the stone, the hard, refractory, and, as it were,
rebounding condition of his life. And, lastly, he saw Tantalus extended
by the side of a lake, and that there was a tree before him, with
abundance of fruit on its branches, which he desired to gather, but it
vanished from his view. And this indeed indicates, that he lived under
the dominion of the phantasy; but his hanging over the lake, and in vain
attempting to drink, denotes the elusive, humid, and rapidly-gliding
condition of such a life.”

We must now, however, view Ulysses passing from sense to imagination; in
the course of which voyage he is assailed by various temptations of great
power, and destructive effect. We shall perceive him victorious in some
of these, and sinking under others; but struggling against the incursions
of all. Among the first of these is the enchanting melody of the Sirens,

    Whose song is death, and makes destruction please.

But what is occultly signified by the Sirens, is beautifully unfolded by
Proclus, on the Cratylus of Plato, as follows: “The divine Plato knew
that there are three kinds of Sirens; the _celestial_, which is under
the government of Jupiter; _that which is effective of generation_, and
is under the government of Neptune; and _that which is cathartic_, and
is under the government of Pluto. It is common to all these, to incline
all things through an harmonic motion to their ruling Gods. Hence, when
the soul is in the heavens, they are desirous of uniting it to the
divine life which flourishes there. But it is proper that souls living
in generation should sail beyond them, like the Homeric Ulysses, that
they may not be allured by generation, of which the sea is an image. And
when souls are in Hades, the Sirens are desirous of uniting them through
intellectual conceptions to Pluto. So that Plato knew that in the kingdom
of Hades there are Gods, dæmons, and souls, who dance, as it were, round
Pluto, allured by the Sirens that dwell there.” Ulysses, therefore, as
now proceeding to a life which is under the dominion of imagination, but
which is superior to a life consisting wholly in sensitive energies,
abandons those alluring and fraudulent pleasures of sense, which charm
the soul with flattering and mellifluous incantations. Hence he closes
with divine reasons and energies, as with wax, the impulses of desire
and the organs of sense; so that every passage being barred from access,
they may in vain warble the song of ecstasy, and expect to ruin the soul
by the enchanting strain. He also restrains the corporeal assaults by the
bands of morality, and thus employs the senses without yielding to their
impetuous invasions; and experiences delight without resigning the empire
of reason to its fascinating control.

Ulysses, having escaped the dangers of the Sirens, passes on to the rocks
of Scylla and Charybdis, of terrific appearance and irresistible force.
By these two rocks the poet seems to signify the passions of anger and
desire, and their concomitants, that compress human life on both sides;
and which every one must experience who proceeds, like Ulysses, in a
regular manner to an intellectual state of existence. Some of these are,
like Scylla, of a lofty malignity; fraudulent, yet latent and obscure,
as being concealed in the penetration of the soul. And such is revenge,
and other passions of a similar kind. In these recesses a dæmon, the
prince of such passions, resides. For the Chaldean oracles assert that
terrestrial dæmons dwell in the soul, which is replete with irrational
affections[195]. This dæmon also may justly be denominated a dire and
enraged dog, who partly exposes his own malice, and partly hides it in
impenetrable obscurity. Hence he is capable of producing mischief in a
twofold respect. For he privately hurts by malignant stratagems, openly
ravishes the soul on the lofty rock of fury, and rends it with the triple
evil of deadly teeth, viz. dereliction of duty, hatred of humanity, and
self-conceit. Indeed, a dæmon of this kind will be perpetually vigilant
in endeavouring to destroy, at one time the whole, and at another time a
part of the soul of one, struggling, like Ulysses, against passion, and
yielding reluctantly to its invasions.

But the other affections which pertain to desire are of a more corporeal
nature, and are more conspicuously depraved. A wild fig-tree, _i.e._ the
will, is produced on the top of this rock; wild, indeed, on account of
its free nature, but sweet in fruition; and under which, often through
the day, the impetuosities of the boiling body are accustomed to absorb
and destroy the man, agitating upwards and downwards inflamed desire;
so that mighty destruction, both to soul and body, is produced by their
mutual consent. But it is highly proper that a rock of this last kind
should be anxiously avoided by one, who, like Ulysses, is labouring to
return to his true country and friends. Hence, if necessity requires,
he will rather expose himself to the other: for there the energy of
thought, and of the soul’s simple motions, is alone necessary to be
exerted, and it is easy to recover the pristine habit of the soul. In
short, the poet seems to represent, by this allegory of the two rocks,
as well the dangers which spontaneously arise from the irascible part of
the soul, as those which are the effect of deliberation, and are of a
corporeal nature; both of which must be sustained, or one at least, by a
necessary consequence. For it is impossible that neither of them should
be experienced by one who is passing over the stormy ocean of a sensible
life.

After this succeeds the allegory of the Trinacrian isle, containing the
herds sacred to the God of day, which were violated by the companions
of Ulysses; but not without the destruction of the authors of this
impiety, and the most dreadful danger to Ulysses. By the result of this
fable, the poet evidently shows that punishment attends the sacrilegious
and the perjured; and teaches us that we should perpetually reverence
divinity, with the greatest sanctity of mind, and be cautious how we
commit any thing in divine concerns contrary to piety of manners and
purity of thought. But Homer, by attributing sense to the flesh and hides
of the slain herds, manifestly evinces that every base deed universally
proclaims the iniquity of its author; but that perjury and sacrilege are
attended with the most glaring indications of guilt, and the most horrid
signatures of approaching vengeance and inevitable ruin. We may here,
too, observe, that the will of Ulysses was far from consenting to this
impious deed; and that, though his passions prevailed at length over his
reason, it was not till after frequent admonition had been employed, and
great diligence exerted, to prevent its execution. This, indeed, is so
eminently true, that his guilt was the consequence of surprise, and not
of premeditated design; which Homer appears to insinuate by relating that
Ulysses was asleep when his associates committed the offence.

In the next fable we find Ulysses, impelled by the southern wind towards
the rocks of Scylla and Charybdis; in the latter of which he found
safety, by clinging to the fig-tree which grew on its summit, till she
refunded the mast, on which he rode after the tempest. But the secret
meaning of the allegory appears to me to be as follows:—Ulysses, who has
not yet taken leave of a life according to sense, is driven by the warmth
of passion, represented by the southern gales, into the dire vortex of
insane desires, which frequently boiling over, and tossing on high the
storms of depraved affections, plunges into ruin the soul obnoxious
to its waves. However, perceiving the danger to which he is exposed,
when the base storms begin to swell, and the whirlpools of depravity
roar, he seizes the helm of temperance, and binds himself fast to the
solid texture of his remaining virtue. The waves of desire are, indeed,
tempestuous in the extreme; but before he is forcibly merged, by the rage
of the passions, into the depths of depravity, he tenaciously adheres to
his unconsenting will, seated, as it were, on the lofty summit of terrene
desire. For this, like the wild fig-tree, affords the best refuge to the
soul struggling with the billows of base perturbations. Hence he thus
recovers the integrity which he had lost, and afterwards swims without
danger over the waves of temptation; ever watchful and assiduous, while
he sails through this impetuous river of the flesh, and is exposed to
the stormy blasts of heated passion and destructive vice. Hence, too,
while he is thus affected, and anxious lest the loss from unworthy
affections should return upon himself, he will escape being lacerated by
the teeth of Anger, though she should terribly and fiercely bark in the
neighbourhood of Desire, and endeavour, like Scylla, to snatch him on
her lofty rock. For those who are involuntarily disturbed, like Ulysses,
by the billows of Desire, suffer no inconvenience from the depraved rock
of Wrath; but considering the danger of their present situation, they
relinquish the false confidence produced by rage for modest diffidence
and anxious hope.

Hitherto we have followed Ulysses in his voyage over the turbulent and
dangerous ocean of sense; in which we have seen him struggling against
the storms of temptation, and in danger of perishing through the
tempestuous billows of vice. We must now attend him in the region of
imagination, and mark his progress from the enchanted island, till he
regains the long-lost empire of his soul. That the poet then, by Calypso,
occultly signifies the phantasy or imagination, is, I think, evident
from his description of her abode. For she is represented as dwelling
in a cavern, illuminated by a great fire; and this cave is surrounded
with a thick wood, is watered by four fountains, and is situated in an
island, remote from any habitable place, and environed by the mighty
ocean. All which particulars correspond with the phantasy, as I presume
the following observations will evince. In the first place, the primary
and proper vehicle of the phantasy, or, as it is called by the Platonic
philosophers, _the imaginative spirit_, is attenuated and ethereal, and
is therefore naturally luminous. In the next place, the island is said
to be surrounded with a thick wood, which evidently corresponds to a
material nature, or this body, with which the phantasy is invested. For
υλη, or _matter_, also signifies _a wood_. But the four fountains, by
which the cave is watered, occultly signify the four gnostic powers of
the soul, _intellect_, _the discursive energy of reason_, _opinion_,
_and sense_; with all which the phantasy, being also a gnostic power,
communicates; so that it receives images, like a mirror, from all of
them, and retains those which it receives from the senses, when the
objects by which they were produced are no longer present. Hence the
imagination, or the phantasy, [φαντασια,] is denominated from being των
φανεντων στασις, _the permanency of appearances_. And, in the last place,
the island is said to be environed by the ocean; which admirably accords
with a corporeal nature, for ever flowing, without admitting any periods
of repose. And thus much for the secret agreement of the cavern and
island with the region of imagination.

But the poet, by denominating the Goddess Calypso, and the island Ogygia,
appears to me very evidently to confirm the preceding exposition. For
Calypso is derived from καλυπτω, which signifies _to cover as with a
veil_; and Ogygia is from ωγυγιος, _ancient_. And as the imaginative
spirit is the primary vehicle of the rational soul, which it derived
from the planetary spheres, and in which it descended to the sublunary
regions, it may with great propriety be said to cover the soul as with a
fine garment or veil; and it is no less properly denominated _ancient_,
when considered as the first vehicle of the soul.

In this region of the phantasy, then, Ulysses is represented as an
involuntary captive, continually employed in bewailing his absence from
his true country, and ardently longing to depart from the fascinating
embraces of the Goddess. For thus his situation is beautifully described
by the poet:

    But sad Ulysses, by himself apart,
    Pour’d the big sorrows of his swelling heart;
    All on the lonely shore he sat to weep,
    And roll’d his eyes around the restless deep;
    Tow’rd his lov’d coast he roll’d his eyes in vain,
    Till dimm’d with rising grief they stream’d again[196].

His return, however, is at length effected through Mercury, or reason,
who prevails on the Goddess to yield to his dismission. Hence, after her
consent, Ulysses is, with great propriety, said to have placed himself
on the throne on which Mercury had sate: for reason then resumes her
proper seat when the reasoning power is about to abandon the delusive and
detaining charms of imagination. But Homer appears to me to insinuate
something admirable when he represents Ulysses, on his departure from
Calypso, sailing by night, and contemplating the order and light of the
stars, in the following beautiful lines:

    And now, rejoicing in the prosperous gales,
    With beating heart Ulysses spread his sails;
    Plac’d at the helm he sate, and mark’d the skies,
    Nor clos’d in sleep his ever watchful eyes.
    There viewed the Pleiads, and the northern team,
    And great Orion’s more refulgent beam;
    To which around the axle of the sky
    The Bear, revolving, points his golden eye;
    Who shines exalted on the ethereal plain,
    Nor bathes his blazing forehead in the main[197].

For what he here says of Ulysses, is perfectly conformable to what is
said by Plato in the 7th book of his Republic, respecting the man who
is to be led from the cave, which he there describes, to the light
of day, _i.e._ from a sensible to an intellectual life, viz. “that
he will more easily see what the heavens contain, and the heavens
themselves, by _looking in the night to the light of the stars and the
moon_, than by day looking on the sun, and the light of the sun.” For
by this, as Proclus well observes, “Plato signifies the contemplation
of intelligibles, of which the stars and their light are imitations, so
far as all of them partake of the form of the sun, in the same manner as
intelligibles are characterized by the nature of _the good_. These, then,
such a one must contemplate, that he may understand their essence, and
those summits of their nature, by which they are deiform processions from
the ineffable principle of things.” Ulysses, therefore, who is hastening
to an intellectual life, contemplates these lucid objects with vigilant
eyes, rejoicing in the illuminations and assistance they afford him while
sailing over the dark ocean of a sensible life.

But as he is now earnestly engaged in departing from sense, he must
unavoidably be pursued by the anger of Neptune, the lord of generation
and a sensible life, whose service he has forsaken, and whose offspring
he has blinded by stratagem, and irritated by reproach. Hence, in the
midst of these delightful contemplations, he is almost overwhelmed by the
waves of misfortune, roused by the wrath of his implacable foe. He is,
however, through divine assistance, or Leucothea, enabled to sustain the
dreadful storm. For, receiving from divinity the immortal fillet of true
fortitude, and binding it under his breast, (the proper seat of courage,)
he encounters the billows of adversity, and bravely shoots along the
boisterous ocean of life. It must, however, be carefully observed, that
the poet is far from ascribing a certain passion to a divine nature, when
he speaks of the anger of Neptune: for, in thus speaking, he, as well
as other theologists, intended only to signify our inaptitude to the
participation of its beneficent influence.

Ulysses therefore, having with much difficulty escaped the dangers
arising from the wrath of Neptune, lands at length on the island of
Phæacia, where he is hospitably received, and honourably dismissed. Now,
as it is proper that he who, like Ulysses, departs from the delusions of
imagination, should immediately betake himself to the more intellectual
light of the rational energy of the soul, the land of Phæacia ought to
correspond to our intellectual part, and particularly to that portion of
it which is denominated in Greek _dianoia_, and which is characterized
by the power of reasoning scientifically, deriving the principles of its
discursive energy from intellect. And that it has this correspondence,
the following observations will, I persuade myself, abundantly evince.
In the first place, then, this island is represented by the poet as
enjoying a perpetual spring, which plainly indicates that it is not
any terrestrial situation. Indeed, the critical commentators have been
so fully convinced of this, that they acknowledge Homer describes
Phæacia as one of the Fortunate Islands; but they have not attempted to
penetrate his design, in such a description. If, however, we consider
the perfect liberty, unfading variety, and endless delight, which our
intellectual part affords, we shall find that it is truly the Fortunate
Island of the soul, in which, by the exercise of the theoretic virtues,
it is possible for a man, even in the present life, to obtain genuine
felicity, though not in that perfection as when he is liberated from
the body. With respect to the Fortunate Islands, their occult meaning
is thus beautifully unfolded by Olympiodorus, in his MS. commentary
on the Gorgias of Plato: Δει δε ειδεναι οτι αι νησοι υπερκυπτουσι της
θαλασσης ανωτερω ουσαι, την ουν πολιτειαν την υπερκυψασαν του βιου και
της γενησεως, μακαρων νησους καλουσι· ταυτον δε εστι και το ηλυσιον
πεδιον. δια τοι τουτο και ο Ηρακλης τελευταιον αθλον, εν τοις εσπεριοις
μερεσιν εποιησατο, αντι κατηγωνισατο τον σκοτεινον και χθονιον βιον,
και λοιπον εν ημερα, ο εστιν εν αληθειᾳ και φωτι εζη: _i.e._ “It is
necessary to know that islands are raised above, being higher than the
sea. A condition of being, therefore, which transcends this corporeal
life and generation, is denominated the islands of the blessed; but these
are the same with the Elysian fields. And on this account, Hercules is
reported to have accomplished his last labour in the Hesperian regions;
signifying by this, that having vanquished an obscure and terrestrial
life, he afterwards lived in open day, that is, in truth and resplendent
light.” In the next place, the poet, by his description of the palace
of Alcinous, the king of this island, admirably indicates the pure and
splendid light of the energy of reason. For he says of it:

    The front appear’d with radiant splendours gay,
    Bright as the lamp of night, or orb of day.
    The walls were massy brass: the cornice high
    Blue metals crown’d in colours of the sky.
    Rich plates of gold the folding doors incase;
    The pillars silver on a brazen base.
    Silver the lintels deep projecting o’er,
    And gold the ringlets that command the door.
    Two rows of stately dogs on either hand,
    In sculptur’d gold, and labour’d silver, stand.
    These Vulcan form’d intelligent to wait
    Immortal guardians at Alcinous’ gate[198].

And he represents it as no less internally luminous by night.

    Refulgent pedestals the walls surround,
    Which boys of gold with flaming torches crown’d;
    The polish’d ore, reflecting ev’ry ray,
    Blaz’d on the banquets with a double day.

Indeed Homer, by his description of the outside of this palace,
sufficiently indicates its agreement with the planet Mercury, the
deity of which presides over the rational energy. For this God, in
the language of Proclus[199], “unfolds into light intellectual gifts,
fills all things with divine _reasons_ [_i.e._ forms, and productive
principles,] elevates souls to intellect, wakens them as from a profound
sleep, converts them through investigation to themselves, and by a
certain obstetric art and invention of pure intellect, brings them to a
blessed life.” According to astronomers, likewise, the planet Mercury
is resplendent with the colours of all the other planets. Thus Baptista
Porta in Cœlest. Physiog. p. 88. “Videbis in eo Saturni luridum,
Martis ignem, Jovis candidum, Veneris flavum, necnon utriusque nitor,
hilaritasque, et ob id non peculiaris formæ, sed eorum formam capit, cum
quibus associatur, ob id in describendo ejus colore astrologi differunt.”
_i.e._ “You may perceive in this planet the pale colour of Saturn, the
fire of Mars, the whiteness of Jupiter, and the yellow of Venus; and
likewise the brilliancy and hilarity of each. On this account it is not
of a peculiar form, but receives the form of its associates, and thus
causes astrologers to differ in describing its colour.”

But that the island of Phæacia is the dominion of reason, is, I think,
indisputably confirmed by Homer’s account of the ships fabricated by its
inhabitants. For of these, he says:

    So shalt thou instant reach the realm assign’d,
    In wond’rous ships self-mov’d, instinct with mind.
    No helm secures their course, no pilot guides,
    Like man intelligent they plough the tides,
    Conscious of ev’ry coast and ev’ry bay,
    That lies beneath the sun’s all-seeing ray;
    And veil’d in clouds impervious to the eye,
    Fearless and rapid through the deep they fly[200].

For it is absurd to suppose that Homer would employ such an hyperbole,
in merely describing the excellency of the Phæacian ships. Hence, as it
so greatly surpasses the bounds of probability, and is so contrary to
the admirable prudence which Homer continually displays, it can only be
admitted as an allegory, pregnant with latent meaning, and the recondite
wisdom of antiquity. The poet likewise adds respecting the Phæacians:

    These did the ruler of the deep ordain
    To build proud navies, and command the main;
    On canvas wings to cut the wat’ry way,
    No bird more light, _no thought more swift than they_.

The last of which lines so remarkably agrees with the preceding
explanation, that I presume no stronger confirmation can be desired. Nor
is the original less satisfactory:

    των νεες ωκειαι ωσει πτερον ηε νοημα[201],

_i.e._ “The ships of these men are swift as a wing, or as _a conception
of the mind_.” But the inhabitants of the palace are represented as
spending their days in continual festivity, and unceasing mirth; in
listening to the harmony of the lyre, or in forming the tuneful mazes of
the joyful dance. For to the man who lives under the guidance of reason,
or to the good man, every day, as Diogenes said, is a festival. Hence,
such a one is constantly employed in tuning the lyre of recollection,
in harmonious revolutions about an intelligible essence, and the
never-satiating and deifying banquet of intellect.

And here we may observe how much the behaviour of Ulysses, at the palace
of Alcinous, confirms the preceding exposition, and accords with his
character, as a man passing in a regular manner from the delusions of
sense, to the realities of intellectual enjoyment. For as he is now
converted to himself, and is seated in the palace of reason, it is highly
proper that he should call to mind his past conduct, and be afflicted
with the survey; and that he should be wakened to sorrow by the lyre of
reminiscence, and weep over the follies of his past active life. Hence,
when the divine bard Demodocus, inspired by the fury of the Muses, sings
the contention between Ulysses and Achilles, on his golden lyre, Ulysses
is vehemently affected with the relation. And when the inhabitants of the
palace, _i.e._ the powers and energies of the rational soul, transported
with the song, demanded its repetition.

    Again Ulysses veil’d his pensive head,
    Again, unmann’d, a shower of sorrow shed.

For to the man who is making a proficiency in virtue, the recollection of
his former conduct is both pleasing and painful; pleasing, so far as in
some instances it was attended with rectitude, but painful so far as in
others it was erroneous.

Ulysses, also, is with the greatest propriety represented as relating his
past adventures in the palace of Alcinous. For as he now betakes himself
to the intellectual light of the reasoning power, it is highly necessary
that he should review his past conduct, faithfully enumerate the errors
of his life, and anxiously solicit a return to true manners, and perfect
rectitude of mind. As likewise he is now on his passage, by the pure
energy of reason to regain the lost empire of his soul, he is represented
as falling into so profound a sleep in his voyage, as to be insensible
for some time of its happy consummation; by which the poet indicates
his being separated from sensible concerns, and wholly converted to the
energies of the rational soul. Nor is it without reason that the poet
represents Ithaca, as presenting itself to the mariners’ view, when the
bright morning star emerges from the darkness of night. For thus he sings:

    But when the morning star, with early ray,
    Flam’d in the front of heav’n and promis’d day;
    Like distant clouds, the mariner descries
    Fair Ithaca’s emerging hills arise[202].

Since it is only by the dawning beams of intellect, that the discursive
energy of reason can gain a glimpse of the native country and proper seat
of empire of the soul.

Ulysses therefore, being now converted to the energies of the rational
soul, and anxious to commence the cathartic virtues, recognizes, through
the assistance of Minerva, or wisdom, his native land: and immediately
enters into a consultation with the Goddess, how he may effectually
banish the various perturbations and inordinate desires, which yet lurk
in the penetralia of his soul. For this purpose, it is requisite that
he should relinquish all external possessions, mortify every sense,
and employ every stratagem, which may finally destroy these malevolent
foes. Hence, the garb of poverty, the wrinkles of age, and the want of
the necessaries of life, are symbols of mortified habits, desertion of
sensible pursuits, and an intimate conversion to intellectual good. For
the sensitive eye must now give place to the purer sight of the rational
soul; and the strength and energies of the corporeal nature must yield to
the superior vigour of intellectual exertion, and the severe exercise of
cathartic virtue. And this, Homer appears most evidently to indicate in
the following beautiful lines:

    Now seated in the olive’s sacred shade,
    Confer the hero and the martial maid.
    The Goddess of the azure eyes began:
    Son of Laertes! much experienc’d man!
    The suitor train thy earliest care demand,
    Of that luxurious race to rid the land.
    Three years thy house their lawless rule has seen,
    And proud addresses to the matchless queen[203];
    But she thy absence mourns from day to day,
    And inly bleeds, and silent wastes away;
    Elusive of the bridal hour, she gives
    Fond hopes to all, and all with hopes deceives[204].

Hence:

    It fits thee now to wear a dark disguise,
    And secret walk unknown to mortal eyes;
    For this my hand shall wither ev’ry grace,
    And ev’ry elegance of form and face,
    O’er thy smooth skin a bark of wrinkles spread,
    Turn hoar the auburn honours of thy head,
    Disfigure every limb with coarse attire,
    And in thine eyes extinguish all the fire;
    Add all the wants and the decays of life,
    Estrange thee from thy own; thy son, thy wife;
    From the loath’d object ev’ry sight shall turn,
    And the blind suitors their destruction scorn[205].

After this follows the discovery of Ulysses to Telemachus, which is
no less philosophically sublime than poetically beautiful. For, by
Telemachus, we must understand _a true scientific conception of things_;
since this is the legitimate offspring of the energy of the rational
soul, in conjunction with philosophy. Hence Ulysses, while employed in
the great work of mortification, recognizes his genuine offspring, and
secretly plans with him the destruction of his insidious foes. And hence
we may see the propriety of Telemachus being represented as exploring
his absent father, and impatient for his return. For the rational soul
then alone associates with a true conception of things, when it withdraws
itself from sensible delights, and meditates a restoration of its fallen
dignity and original sway.

And now Ulysses presents himself to our view in the habits of
mortification, hastening to his long deserted palace, or the occult
recesses of his soul, that he may mark the conduct and plan the
destruction of those baneful passions which are secretly attempting
to subvert the empire of his mind. Hence, the poet very properly and
pathetically exclaims:

    And now his city strikes the monarch’s eyes,
    Alas! how chang’d! a man of miseries;
    Propt on a staff, a beggar, old and bare,
    In tatter’d garments, flutt’ring with the air[206].

However, as this disguise was solely assumed for the purpose of procuring
ancient purity and lawful rule, he divests himself of the torn garments
of mortification, as soon as he begins the destruction of occult desires;
and resumes the proper dignity and strength of his genuine form. But it
is not without reason that Penelope, who is the image of philosophy,
furnishes the instrument by which the hostile rout of passions are
destroyed. For what besides the arrows of philosophy can extirpate the
leading bands of impurity and vice? Hence, as soon as he is furnished
with this irresistible weapon, he no longer defers the ruin of his
insidious foes, but

    Then fierce the hero o’er the threshold strode;
    Stript of his rags, he blaz’d out like a God.
    Full in their face the lifted bow he bore,
    And quiver’d deaths a formidable store;
    Before his feet the rattling show’r he threw,
    And thus terrific to the suitor crew[207].

But Homer represents Penelope as remaining ignorant of Ulysses, even
after the suitors are destroyed, and he is seated on the throne of
majesty, anxious to be known, and impatient to return her chaste and
affectionate embrace. For thus he describes her:

    Then gliding through the marble valves in state,
    Oppos’d before the shining fire she sate.
    The monarch, by a column high enthron’d.
    His eye withdrew, and fixed it on the ground,
    Anxious to hear his queen the silence break:
    Amaz’d she sate, and impotent to speak;
    O’er all the man her eyes she rolls in vain,
    Now hopes, now fears, now knows, then doubts again[208].

By which Homer indicates, that Philosophy, through her long absence from
the soul, and the foreign manners and habits which the soul had assumed,
is a stranger to it, so that it is difficult for her to recognize the
union and legitimate association which once subsisted between them.
However, in order to facilitate this discovery, Ulysses renders all pure
and harmonious within the recesses of his soul; and, by the assistance of
Minerva, or wisdom, resumes the garb and dignity which he had formerly
displayed.

    Then instant to the bath (the monarch cries,)
    Bid the gay youth and sprightly virgins rise,
    Thence all descend in pomp and proud array,
    And bid the dome resound the mirthful lay;
    While the sweet lyrist airs of raptures sings,
    And forms the dance responsive to the strings[209].

And afterwards, Ulysses is described as appearing, through the
interposition of Minerva, _like one of the immortals_.

    So Pallas his heroic form improves,
    With bloom divine, and like a God he moves[210].

For, indeed, he who, like Ulysses, has completely destroyed the
domination of his passions, and purified himself, through the cathartic
virtues, from their defiling nature, no longer ranks in the order of
mortals, but is assimilated to divinity. And now, in order that he may
become entirely known to Philosophy, that chaste Penelope of the soul,
it is only requisite for him to relate the secrets of their mystic
union, and recognize the bower of intellectual love. For then perfect
recollection will ensue; and the anxiety of diffidence will be changed
into transports of assurance, and tears of rapturous delight.

And thus we have attended Ulysses in his various wanderings and woes,
till, through the _cathartic_ virtues, he recovers the ruined empire of
his soul. But, as it is requisite that he should, in the next place,
possess and energize according to the theoretic or contemplative virtues,
the end of which is a union with deity, as far as this can be effected
by man in the present life, Homer only indicates to us his attainment of
this end, without giving a detail of the gradual advances by which he
arrived at this consummate felicity. This union is occultly signified by
Ulysses first beholding, and afterwards ardently embracing his father
with ecstatic delight. With most admirable propriety, also, is Ulysses
represented as proceeding, in order to effect this union, by himself
_alone_, to his father who is also _alone_.

    _Alone_ and unattended, let me try
    If yet I share the old man’s memory[211],

says Ulysses. And afterwards it is said,

    But all _alone_ the hoary king he found[212].

For a union with the ineffable _one_ of the Demiurgus, the true father
of the soul, can only be accomplished by the soul recurring to its own
_unity_; and having for this purpose previously dismissed and abandoned
every thing foreign to it. This occurrence, indeed, of the soul with
deity, is, as Plotinus divinely says, φυγη μονου προς μονον[213], _a
flight of the alone to the alone_, in which most beautiful expression I
have no doubt he alludes to this mystic termination of the wanderings
of Ulysses, in the embraces of his father. Proclus also, in a no less
admirable manner, alludes to this union in his Commentaries on the Timæus
of Plato[214]. The allusion is in his comment on the words, “It is
difficult, therefore, to discover the maker and father of this universe;
and, when found, it is impossible to speak of him to all men.” On this
passage Proclus observes: “It is necessary that the soul, becoming an
intellectual world, and being as much as possible assimilated to the
whole intelligible world, should introduce herself to the maker of the
universe; and from this introduction, should, in a certain respect,
become familiar with him through a continued intellectual energy. For
uninterrupted energy about any thing calls forth and resuscitates our
dormant ideas. But through this familiarity, becoming stationed at
the door of the father, it is necessary that we should be united to
him. For discovery is this, to meet with him, to be united to him, _to
associate alone with the alone_, and to see him himself, the soul hastily
withdrawing herself from every other energy to him. For, being present
with her father, she then considers scientific discussions to be but
words[215], banquets together with him on the truth of real being, and in
pure splendour is purely initiated in entire and stable visions. Such,
therefore, is the discovery of the father, not that which is doxastic [or
pertaining to opinion]; for this is dubious, and not very remote from the
irrational life. Neither is it scientific; for this is syllogistic and
composite, and does not come into contact with the intellectual essence
of the intellectual Demiurgus. But it is that which subsists according
to intellectual vision itself, a contact with the intelligible, and a
union with the demiurgic intellect. For this may properly be denominated
difficult, either as hard to obtain, presenting itself to souls after
every evolution of life, or as the true labour of souls. For, after the
wandering about generation, after purification, and the light of science,
intellectual energy and the intellect which is in us shine forth, placing
the soul in the father as in a port, purely establishing her in demiurgic
intellections, and conjoining light with light; not such as that of
science, but more beautiful, more intellectual, and partaking more of the
nature of _the one_ than this. _For this is the paternal port, and the
discovery of the father, viz. an undefiled union with him._”

With great beauty also, and in perfect conformity to the most recondite
theology, is the father of Ulysses represented as coarsely clothed, and
occupied in botanical labours:

    But all alone the hoary king he found;
    His habit coarse, but warmly wrapt around;
    His head, that bow’d with many a pensive care,
    Fenc’d with a double cap of goatskin hair;
    His buskins old, in former service torn,
    But well repair’d; and gloves against the thorn.
    In this array the kingly gard’ner stood,
    And clear’d a plant, encumber’d with its wood[216].

For this simplicity, and coarseness of the garb of Laertes, considered as
an image of the true father of Ulysses, is, in every respect, conformable
to the method adopted by ancient mythologists in their adumbrations
of deity. For they imitated the transcendency of divine natures by
things preternatural; a power more divine than all reason by things
irrational; and, by apparent deformity, a beauty which surpasses every
thing corporeal. This array, therefore, of the father of Ulysses, is, in
the language of Proclus, indicative “of an essence established in the
simplicity of _the one_, and vehemently rejoicing, as some one of the
piously wise says, in an unadorned privation of form, and extending it
to those who are able to survey it[217].” And the botanical labours of
Laertes are an image of the providential attention of the Demiurgus to
the immediate ramifications and blossoms of his own divine essence, in
which they are ineffably rooted, and from which they eternally germinate.

Though Ulysses, however, is placed through the theoretic virtues in the
paternal port, as far as this is possible to be effected in the present
life, yet we must remember, according to the beautiful observation of
Porphyry, that he is not freed from molestation, till he has passed over
the raging sea of a material nature; _i.e._ has become impassive[218] to
the excitations of the irrational life, and is entirely abstracted from
external concerns. For,

    Then heav’n decrees in peace to end his days,
    And steal himself from life by slow decays;
    Unknown to pain, in age resign his breath.
    When late stern Neptune points the shaft of death;
    To the dark grave retiring as to rest;
    His people blessing, by his people blest[219].

I shall only observe farther, that Plotinus also considered the
wanderings of Ulysses as a fabulous narration containing a latent
meaning, such as that which we have above unfolded. This is evident from
the following extract from his admirable treatise _on the Beautiful_: “It
is here, then, [in order to survey the beautiful itself] that we may more
truly exclaim.

    Haste, let us fly and all our sails expand,
    To gain our dear, our long-lost native land[220].

But by what leading stars shall we direct our flight, and by what means
avoid the magic power of Circe, and the detaining charms of Calypso?
For thus the fable of Ulysses obscurely signifies, which feigns him
abiding an unwilling exile, though pleasant spectacles were continually
presented to his sight; and every thing was proffered to invite his
stay, which can delight the senses and captivate the heart. But our true
country, like that of Ulysses, is from whence we came, and where our
father lives[221].”


FOOTNOTES:

[183] Δια τοι τουτο, και τον Οδυσσεα λεγουσι κατα θαλατταν πλανασθαι
βουλῃ του Ποσειδωνος· σημαινουσι γαρ την Οδυσσειον ζωην, οτι ουδε χθονια
ην, αλλ’ ουδε μην ετι ουρανια, αλλα μεση· επει ουν ο Ποσειδων του μεταξυ
κυριος εστι, δια τουτο και τον Οδυσσεα φασι βουλῃ Ποσειδωνος [supple
πλανασθαι·] επειδη τον κληρον του Ποσειδωνος ειχεν· ουτω γουν και τους
μεν φασι Διος υιους, τους δε Ποσειδωνος, τους δε Πλουτωνος, προς τους
κληρους εκαστου· τον μεν γαρ εχοντα θειαν και ουρανιαν πολιτειαν Διος
φαμεν υιον, τον δε χθονιαν, Πλουτωνος, τον δε την μεταξυ Ποσειδωνος.

[184] In Plat. Polit. p. 398.

[185] Instead of αναλογοι ψυχαι, in this place, it is necessary to read
αλογοι ψυχαι.

[186] Iliad, V. v. 451.

[187] Conformably to this, Proclus, in Plat. Polit. p. 398, says, “that
all the beauty subsisting about generation [or the regions of sense],
from the fabrication of things, is signified by Helen; about which
there is a perpetual battle of souls, till the more intellectual having
vanquished the more irrational forms of life, return to the place from
whence they originally came.” For the beauty which is in the realms of
generation, is an efflux of intelligible beauty.

[188] This second line is, in Pope’s version, “Lotos the name, divine,
nectarious juice!” which I have altered as above, as being more
conformable to the original.

[189] Lib. ix. l. 94, &c.

[190] Vid. Censoris, De Die Natali, cap. iii.

[191] This is evident from the following passage in the Commentary of
Proclus, on the First Alcibiades of Plato: Ταις μεν ουν αποκαταστατικως
ζωσαις ψυχαις ο αυτος εστιν ανω κανταυθα δαιμων· ταις δε ατελεστεραις
αλλος μεν ο κατ’ ουσιαν δαιμων, αλλος δε ο κατα τον προβεβλημενον βιον.
p. 37, Edit. Creuz. But for a copious account of the essential dæmon, and
of the different orders and offices of dæmon, see the notes accompanying
my translation of the First Alcibiades, Phædo, and Gorgias of Plato.

[192] See the note (p. 90) accompanying my translation of the
Metamorphosis of Apuleius.

[193] For an accurate account of the gradation of the virtues, see
Porphyry’s Auxiliaries to Intelligibles, p. 217.

[194] For the shuttle is a symbol of separating power.

[195] And this is the meaning of the Chaldaic oracle,—

    Σον αγγειον θηρες χθονος οικησουσιν.

_i.e._ “The wild beasts of the earth shall inhabit thy vessel.” For,
as Psellus well observes, by _the vessel_, the composite temperature of
the soul is signified, and by the wild beasts of the earth, terrestrial
dæmons.

[196] Odyss. lib. v. 82, &c. The translation by Pope.

[197] Ibid. lib. v. 269, &c.

[198] Odyss. lib. vii. 84, &c. The translation by Pope.

[199] In Euclid. Element. lib. i. p. 14.

[200] Odyss. lib. viii. 556, &c.

[201] Odyss. lib. vii. 33.

[202] Odyss. lib. xiii. 93, &c.

[203] _i.e._ Philosophy; for of this Penelope is an image.

[204] Odyss. lib. xiii. 373, &c.

[205] Odyss. lib. xiii. 397, &c. The translation of the above, and
likewise of all the following passages from the Odyssey, is by Pope.

[206] Odyss. lib. xvii. 201, &c.

[207] Odyss. lib. xxii. 1, &c.

[208] Odyss. lib. xxiii. 88, &c.

[209] Odyss. lib. xxiii. 131, &c.

[210] Odyss. lib. xxiii. 163, &c.

[211] Odyss. lib. xxiv. 215, &c.

[212] Ibid. lib. xxiv. 225.

[213] These are the concluding words of the last book of his last Ennead.

[214] See vol. i. p. 254, of my translation of that work.

[215] This is in consequence of a union with the Demiurgus being so much
superior to scientific perception.

[216] Odyss. lib. xxiv. 225, &c.

[217] τα μεν γαρ εστι θεια και εν τῃ απλοτητι του ενος ιδρυμενα την
ακαλλοπιστον ευμορφιαν· (lege αμορφιαν) ως φησι τις των τα οσια
σοφων, διαφεροντως αγαπωντα, και προτεινοντα τοις εις αυτα βλεπειν
δυναμενοις.—Procl. in Parmenid. lib. i. p. 38. 8vo. Parisiis, 1821.

[218] This impassivity, or perfect subjugation of the passions to reason,
which is the _true apathy_ of the Stoics and Platonists, is indicated by
Ulysses finding a nation

    “Who ne’er knew salt or heard the billows roar.”

[219] Odyss. lib. xxiii. 281, &c. By _the people_, in these lines, the
inferior parts or powers of the soul are indicated.

[220] Iliad, lib. ii. 140, and lib. ix. 27.

[221] See my paraphrased translation of this treatise, p. 37, &c.


THE END.

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