Porphyry the favourite disciple of Plotinus next demands our attention:
but unfortunately we have scarcely any other particulars of his life,
worthy our attention, than those we have already delivered in the
history of Plotinus. I shall, therefore, only add, that he was born
at Tyre, in the twelfth year of the emperor Alexander Severus, and
of Christ 233; and that he died at Rome more than seventy years old,
in the latter part of the emperor Dioclesian’s reign. Of his great
abilities we have already given ample testimony: it now remains that
we shew how much he contributed to the restoration and perfection
of the Platonic theology. We are informed by Proclus[69], that it
was usual with Plato, and his most genuine associates, to call all
beings, by the appellation of intellect. “Hence (says he), in many
places they establish _the good intellect, and soul_, as the three
principles of things, calling intellect _every being_.” Now this was
eminently the case with Plotinus, who in intellect or the intelligible
world, comprehends all the intelligible gods, all true beings, and
the multiform variety of ideas. Hence, he was more anxiously employed
in profoundly investigating the nature of this divine world, than
in scientifically unfolding the order of the beings it contains.
Indeed, his genius on every subject was more adapted to an intimate
perception of the occult essence of a thing, than to explaining its
gradual evolution, and describing the mode of its participations.
However, though he did not prosecute the more particular processions
of divinity himself, yet he took care to insert the principles of this
sublime investigation, in his writings; and to lay the foundation of
that admirable and beautiful system, which was gradually revealed by
succeeding Platonists, and at last received its ultimate perfection, by
the subtile and elegant genius of Proclus.
Porphyry, however, appears to have been the first who wrote any
thing explicitly on this interesting subject. “For he composed (says
Proclus[70]) a treatise concerning principles, in which he demonstrates
by many and beautiful reasons, that intellect is indeed eternal, but
that it contains in itself something more ancient than intellect, which
is conjoined with the one.” Now this something which is more ancient
than intellect, but inferior to the one itself, can be nothing else
than an Henad, or posterior monad; and if so there must be an order
of Henades prior to that of intellects, which is most beautifully and
copiously proved by Proclus, in his books on Plato’s Theology, and is
demonstrated in the following theological institutions. But that this
was likewise the doctrine of Plotinus is plain from his own words[71].
“It is necessary (says he) that the principle and cause of intellect,
and the deity himself, should be present with the soul; and that this
supreme principle should be present, not in any divisible manner, but
perfectly stable, not indeed in place, but in himself. And, in the
mean time, he must be considered in each of the natures capable of
receiving him, as something different from their essence, just as the
centre also abides in itself. But every line in the circle terminates
its point in the centre, to which it tends. And by something analogous
to this, which our essence contains, we also may touch, coalesce,
and be conjoined with the supreme.” Hence it appears how egregiously
Dr. Cudworth[72] is mistaken, in asserting that the doctrine of the
Henades, was a figment of the Platonists posterior to Plotinus: for if
they are the summits of our souls, and intellects, they must likewise
be the very flowers, as it were, of universal souls and universal
intellects.
As the most valuable of Porphyry’s works are unfortunately lost, and
this most probably through the malice of sectaries, and the unjust
interposition of regal authority, we can scarcely give any other proof
of his great contributions to the advancement of the theology, than
by enumerating his writings on this occasion. And in the first place,
next to the two books on principles which we have already mentioned,
his treatise, _Concerning the Philosophy from Oracles_, merits our
attention. In this curious and valuable work (as we are informed by
Eusebius[73]) he collects, a variety of the answers, as well of Apollo,
as of other deities, and beneficient dæmons: proving by this means the
virtue of theology, and promoting _theosophy_, or the study of divine
wisdom.
2. In the next place, we may deservedly rank his _Explanation of
many of Plotinus’s Books_ (according to the testimony of Eunapius.)
For surely nothing could more contribute to the restoration of this
theology, than a commentary on the writings of him who first uncovered
its veil, and happily penetrated into the mysteries it contains.
3. To these succeed his _Commentaries on the Timæus of Plato_,
which are every where cited by Proclus, with the praise they doubtless
deserved. Indeed, if we consider the sanctity of Porphyry’s genius,
his great abilities, and universal attainments, we cannot sufficiently
regret the loss of his writings on a dialogue which has ever been
esteemed uncommonly abstruse, and replete with the most mystical
theology.
4. _Concerning the divine Names._ This work is mentioned by Suidas,
and promises by its title, to have been an inestimable treasury of
recondite wisdom.
5. _Concerning the Allegories of the Grecian and Egyptian Theology._
How much Porphyry, excelled in works of this kind, is sufficiently
evident from his explanation of the Cave of the Nymphs in Homer, which
is fortunately preserved; and the translation of which in the following
pages, will both adorn the present history, and, I doubt not, be
acceptable to the reader.
6. _On the Regress or Re-ascent of the Soul._ The design of this
excellent work, as we are informed by St. Augustin, who often cites
it, in his City of God[74], was to admonish us, that we should fly
from all body, that the soul may abide in felicity with the deity.
According to the same Augustin too, in this book there was a copious
discourse concerning the purgation of the soul by the _theurgic_ art,
which we cannot wonder this _reverend father_ should both ridicule and
disclaim: for how can the faith of a _bishop_ agree with the dogmata
of a _philosopher_? But it is here necessary to inform the reader that
the theurgical art, explained and recommended by Porphyry in this
treatise, consists in purifying the imaginative spirit or vehicle of
the soul, which according to its various condition either elevates the
soul to a superior state, or draws it down into the darkest recesses
of the earth. Lucas Holstenius in his account of the life and writings
of Porphyry, is very diffuse in relating and defending the opinions
of Augustin on this particular, but takes no notice of the Platonic
Synesius[75], who in his admirable book on dreams, speaks so appositely
and fully on this most interesting subject, that I cannot refrain
from presenting the English reader with a translation of his doctrine
concerning this phantastic spirit, or as he calls it spiritual soul.
“In what the disease (says he) of this spirit consists, by what means
it languishes and is dulled, and how it becomes purified and defecated,
and restored to its natural simplicity and perfection, must be learned
from the arcana of philosophy; from which being purified by the
lustrations of mysteries it passes into a divine condition of being.
But it is requisite to banish all influxions externally, before the
phantastic spirit can superinduce the divinity. And whoever preserves
it pure by a life according to nature, will render it prompt for this
most exalted employment. For this spirit understands the affection
of the soul, and is not destitute of sympathy towards it, like its
testaceous vestment the body, which has a condition opposite to the
more excellent affections of the soul. But the primary and proper
vehicle of this phantastic spirit, when the soul is in a flourishing
condition, is attenuated and etherial: but when the soul is badly
affected, then this vehicle is dulled, and becomes terrene. For this
phantastic spirit is situated in the confines of the rational and
brutal nature, is of an incorporeal and corporeal degree; and is the
common boundary of both, and the medium which conjoins divine natures
with the lowest of all. On this account it is difficult to comprehend
its nature by philosophy: for it collects that which accords with
itself, as it were from neighbouring natures, and from the extremes of
each; and comprehends in one essence things separated by so great an
interval from its own. But nature extends the latitude of a phantastic
essence, through many conditions of things: for it descends even to
animals to whom intellect is not present. In this case, however, it is
no longer the vehicle of a diviner soul, but presides over its subject
powers, becomes the reason of the animal with which it is connected,
and is the occasion of its acting with much wisdom and propriety.
“But this phantastic spirit may be even purified in brutes, so that
something better may be induced; and all the genera of dæmons derive
their essence from a life of this kind, for their whole essence is
composed from the phantasy, and from inward imaginations. But many of
the energies of the human nature consist from this alone, or if from
something else, yet this prevails the most: for we are not accustomed
to cogitate without imagination, unless some one should perhaps for a
moment be able to pass into contact with an immaterial form. But to
transcend the phantasy in rational energies, is not less difficult than
blessed. Hence (says Plato) the possession of intellect and wisdom in
old age is desirable above all things, signifying by this, intelligence
shining without imagination; because intelligence when conversant with
a common life, belongs to the phantasy, or at least to an intellect
energizing through the medium of the phantasy. Hence too, this animal
spirit which divine men have denominated the spiritual soul, becomes a
god, and an omniform dæmon, and an image, in which the soul suffers the
punishment of its guilt. And in conformity with this the oracles also
compare the life of the soul in this animal spirit to the imaginations
of dreams. Philosophy too, agrees in asserting, that preceding lives
are certain preparations to those in a subsequent order, while the
possession of the best habit in souls renders this spirit more adapted
to elevation, and wipes away the profound stains of a baser affection.
Hence by natural allurements, this spirit is either elevated on high,
on account of its heat and dryness, which Plato signifies by the
wings of the soul, and Heraclitus when he says, _that a dry soul is
the wisest_: or becoming bulky and humid, it merges itself in the
recesses of the earth by a natural gravity; and is thus concealed in
darkness, and hurled into a subterranean region[76]. For a place of
this kind is peculiarly adapted to humid spirits; and the life there is
unhappy, and obnoxious to punishment. It is however possible by labour
and time, and a transition into other lives, for the imaginative soul
when purified, to emerge from this dark abode: for it passes its course
through lives of a two-fold nature; and alternately approaches to
superior and subordinate conditions of being.
“But the soul in its first descent, derives this spirit from the
planetary spheres, and entering this as a boat associates itself
with the corporeal world, earnestly contending that it may either at
the same time draw this spirit after it, in its flight, or that they
may not abide in conjunction. Indeed it is rarely though possible
to be accomplished, that the one deserts the other in descending to
the earth: for it is unlawful not to believe in mysteries of known
credibility and truth. But the souls’ regression will be base, if she
neglects to restore, that which is foreign from her nature, and leaves
about the earth, what she had received from on high. And this indeed
one or two may obtain as a gift of divinity and initiation. For it is
instituted by nature, that the soul, once seated in this phantastic
spirit, should either follow, or draw, or be drawn, yet so as to
remain copulated with this spirit, till it again ascends from whence
it came. Hence when on account of its depravity this spirit grows
heavy, at the same time, it draws down the soul, which had yielded to
its gravitation. And the dread of this is what the oracles announce
to our intellectual conceptions, when they advise: _Nor decline
beneath, into the obscure world, whose depth is always an unfaithful
bottom, and an infernal darkness, squalid, rejoicing in shadows, and
full of stupidity and folly_. For how can a stupid and foolish
life be expedient to intellect? But the inferior region, accords with
the image, or spiritual soul, on account of an affection of spirit
corresponding with such a place: for like rejoices in like.
“On this account, if by conjunction, one is produced from the two,
intellect also will be merged in pleasure. But the extremity of all
evils consists in not perceiving the present evil: for this belongs to
such as have no desire to emerge, but like those whose skin is hardened
by disease, as they are no longer tormented with pain, so neither
are they anxious to be cured. Hence penitence possesses a peculiar
power of re-elevating the soul. For he who endures his present state
with sorrow and remorse, will meditate his flight: _and the will
is the greatest part of purgation_. Indeed through the means of
this both our deeds and discourses extend their hands to assist us in
our ascent: but this being taken away the soul is deprived of every
purifying machine, because destitute of assent, which is the greatest
pledge of reconciliation. Hence both here and elsewhere, punishments
bring with them the greatest utility to the order of things, while
they oppose molestation to delight, and banish stupid pleasure from
the soul. Misfortunes too, which are said to happen contrary to our
deserts, are of the greatest advantage in extirpating the affections
by which we are captivated with externals: and thus the doctrine of a
providence is confirmed to the intelligent, from the very circumstances
which produce diffidence in the ignorant. For no place would be left
for the soul to take her flight from the dominion of matter, if in the
present state she lived free from the incursions of evil: and hence
it is proper to believe, that the præfects of the infernal regions
have invented vulgar prosperities, as the snares of the soul. It may
therefore be said that souls emigrating from hence drink of oblivion:
but the cup of oblivion is extended to souls entering into the present
life, by pleasure and delight. For when the soul descends spontaneously
to its former life, with mercenary views, it receives servitude as the
reward of its mercenary labours. But this is the design of descent,
that the soul may accomplish a certain servitude to the nature of the
universe, prescribed by the laws of Adrastia, or inevitable fate.
Hence when the soul is fascinated with material endowments, she is
similarly affected to those, who though free born, are for a certain
time hired by wages to employment, and in this condition captivated
with the beauty of some female servant, determine to act in a menial
capacity under the master of their beloved object. Thus in a similar
manner, when we are profoundly delighted, with external, and corporeal
goods, we confess that the nature of matter is beautiful, who marks our
assent in her secret book: and if considering ourselves as free we at
any time determine to depart, she proclaims us deserters, endeavours
to bring us back, and openly presenting her mystic volume to the view,
apprehends us as fugitives from our mistress. Then indeed the soul
particularly requires fortitude, and divine assistance, as it is no
trifling contest, to abrogate the confession and compact which she
made. Besides in this case, force will be employed: for the material
inflicters of punishments will then be roused to revenge, by the
decrees of fate, against the rebels to her laws. And this is what the
_sacred discourses_ (ἱεροὶ λόγοι)[77] testify by the labours of
Hercules, and the dangers which Hercules was required to endure; and
which every one must experience who bravely contends for liberty, till
the phantastic spirit becomes superior to the dominion of nature, and
is placed beyond the reach of her hands.
“But if this leap from matter should happen within the boundaries of
nature, the soul will be depressed, and require more weighty contests:
for matter now fully convinced that we are fugitives, will not be
sparing of punishment; and though we may despair of our ascent, she
will chastize us for the endeavour, and no longer propose our choice of
living from two urns, which Homer occultly intimates are two portions
of matter. And Jupiter himself in this place, according to the same
divine poet, is the moderator of matter, distributing a two-fold
condition of fate; from which good is never found sincere, and without
a mixture of evil, though it is possible that some unfortunate being
may participate of the worse condition without any portion of good.
“In short all lives are conversant with the fluctuations of error,
when the soul does not speedily return, after its first descent. But
consider with how great an interval, this spirit energizes in our
nature: for when the soul is inclined downwards, _the spirit also
(according to the sacred discourse) grows heavy, and sinks, till it
falls into a region profoundly dark: but when the soul rises from
this obscurity, the phantastic spirit also attends it, as far as it
is able to follow_. And it will attend, till the soul arrives at a
condition of being the most opposite from its nature. Hear too, what
the oracles declare on this occasion. _Nor should you leave the most
abject part[78] in the precipice of matter: for there is a place for
the image in the region every where resplendent with light._ But
this place is opposed to the region totally dark; and to him who
acutely perceives, a still deeper meaning will be found in the words.
For the oracle not only seems to recal into the spheres, the nature
which had proceeded from thence, but also intimates that whatever of
sublime fire or air, the soul descending from on high, had attracted
into a phantastic essence, before she was invested with this terrene
bark, must be elevated together with the more exalted part. For the
dregs of matter, or the most abject part, cannot signify a divine body.
But reason dictates that things which communicate, and conspire in
unity, cannot be destitute of mutual relation, and connection with each
other, particularly when the places of their residence have a kindred
position: as fire is proximate to an orbicular body, and does not like
the earth possess the extremity of things.
“Again, if better natures yielding to the subordinate, should at any
time unite in conjunction with these, they would produce in matter
an indissoluble body, from their superior dominion: and in this case
perhaps, the baser nature, no longer opposing the energy of the soul,
but becoming gentle, obedient, and obsequious, and exhibiting the
middle nature of the phantastic spirit without dissipation, may become
etherial together with the dominion of the rational soul; may be the
attendant of its elevation; and may ascend if not to the summit of all,
at least to the extremity of the elements, and arrive at the region
in every part lucid, and divine. For it possesses says the Oracle a
certain place in this region; i.e. it is received into a certain order
of an orbicular body. And thus much may suffice, concerning the parts
and condition of the elements, which the reader may either believe, or
reject as he pleases.
“But it cannot be denied that the corporeal essence of the phantastic
spirit, when arrived at this place, is at the same time elevated with
the returning soul, and adapted to the spheres; or in other words it
is brought back to its proper nature and pristine condition. These
two regions, therefore, are situated in perfect opposition to each
other: the one profoundly obscure, but the other every way lucid,
obtaining the extremities[79] of felicity and misery. But how many
middle regions do you think are situated in the concave space of this
mundane orb, partly lucid, and partly dark, in all which the soul
lives, with this phantastic spirit, and alternately changes its forms,
and manners, and life? When, therefore, it returns to its proper
nobility, it becomes the storehouse of truth: for it is then pure and
pellucid, and perfectly immaculate; and has power, if willing, to
become a god and a prophet. But when it falls from this elevation,
it becomes dark, erratic, and fictitious: for the obscurity of the
spirit, cannot perceive the perspicuity of true beings. Lastly, when
it possesses a middle situation, it partly wanders, and partly pursues
the truth. You may also by this means, explore a demoniacal nature,
and its order: for to pursue truth entirely, or to wander but a little
from its contemplation, is divine, or nearly divine. But a condition
of being, erroneous in predictions, necessarily belongs to such as
are assiduously inclined to nature, who are obnoxious to passion,
and perfectly ambitious: for by this means such a condition becomes
subterranean[80], and forsakes divinity, and its more ancient dæmon;
though by a contrary mode of proceeding it may resume its pristine
associations, and occupy the place prepared for a more excellent nature.
“And from hence we may apprehend the state of the soul while
connected with the present body: for he whose phantastic spirit, is
pure and composed, and who, both waking, and sleeping, receives true
resemblances of things, he indeed, possesses a token that the figure
of his soul will pass into a better condition of being. Nor is the
judgment trifling which we may form respecting the affection of the
animal spirit, from the imaginations which it principally produces, and
in which it is employed, when free from external pulsation; philosophy
supplying us with judgment and admonition, respecting its nutriment,
and the diligent care we should employ to prevent its deviation from
the right. But its best education, consists in always energizing
according to an intuitive and perceptive power, and in taking care
that the principal energy of the soul is always intellectual; and
that as much as possible we always pre-occupy the absurd and rash
impetuosities of the phantasy. But this is no other than a conversion
of the soul to that which is best, and forsaking all communion with
an inferior nature, except what the strongest necessity compels us
to adopt. But an intellectual perception above all things separates,
whatever is contrary to the true purity of the phantastic spirit:
for it attenuates this spirit in an occult and ineffable manner,
and extends it to divinity. And when it becomes adapted to this
exalted energy, it draws by a certain affinity of nature, _a divine
spirit_, into conjunction with the soul: as on the contrary when it
is so contracted and diminished by condensation, that it cannot fill
the ventricles of the brain, which are the seats assigned to it by
providence, then, nature not enduring a vacuum, _an evil spirit_
is insinuated in the place of one divine. And what will not the soul
suffer, when assiduously pressed by such an execrable evil? For such is
the constitution of things, that the regions of the phantastic spirit
must either be filled with a superior or subordinate nature: but the
latter is the punishment of the impious, who defile the divine part of
their essence; and the former is either the end of piety, of proximate
to the end.” Thus far the excellent Synesius, who, I doubt not, was
greatly indebted to Porphyry’s book on the regress of the soul, for
this admirable discourse; as it is evidently pregnant with the most
recondite theology. But let us consider this interesting subject more
minutely.
Though the theurgical art is unfortunately lost, by means of which
we might obtain the best method of purifying the phantastic spirit;
yet we must not suppose that it is utterly impossible to accomplish
this desirable end, without its assistance. Synesius in the preceding
beautiful quotation informs us, “that an intellectual perception
attenuates this spirit, in an occult and ineffable manner, and extends
it to divinity.” Indeed, nothing can so effectually contribute
to separate the phantasy from this terrene body, as a continual
intellectual illumination. Now this can only be acquired by long
habits of meditation, accompanied with a vehement thirst after truth,
which gradually withdraw the soul from sensible perturbations, produce
the contemplative virtues, and dispel the darkness of corporeal
imaginations. Science, indeed, is the first requisite in acquiring this
purification of the phantasy, I mean the mathematical science; by whose
assistance, we first recognize the glimmerings of truth, and discover
the dawning beams of intellect emerging, as it were, from the night of
oblivion. When the liberal soul first discovers this light, though but
feeble and transient, she rejoices at the happy event, and is anxious
to procure its continuance and increase. She now despises outward
corporeal form, and becomes deeply enamoured with those purer forms
in the phantasy, which she has found to be the receptacles of truth.
And this is the first degree of purification. But after this if by a
fortunate event, from contemplating universals in imaginative figures,
she should rise to speculate their subsistence in cogitation, and in
the rational soul, she will then discover a much brighter light; though
even this will not be constant and serene: for it will be present
only when she is deeply engaged in such _middle contemplations_.
Indeed, as cogitation is the medium between sense and intellect, so
the light attending its energies, has a middle subsistence between the
obscurity of the former, and the invariable splendors of the latter.
This light, however, will so purify the phantastic spirit, that all
its images will possess a considerable degree of perspicuity and
lustre. There now remains only the third step, in order to produce
the perfection of purity, and to conjoin the phantasy with divinity:
and this is no other than an intimate conversion of the soul to the
energies of intellect. For by a long and vigorous exercise of this
kind, a constant and ineffable light will continually illuminate
the phantasy, so as to render all its images pure and pellucid, and
perfectly abolish the obscurity of sensible impressions. We may add
too, as a symbol of this exalted purgation, that a perpetual serenity,
unceasing delight, and occasional rapture will be produced in the soul.
The _will_, now entirely free will be intimately converted to
that which is best; the desires will breathe nothing but the ardour of
intellectual energy; and the passions will no longer be at variance
with reason. In this delightful state, the vehicle of the phantastic
spirit will become so attenuated and etherial, that all sensible
harmony will waken the soul to an immediate recollection of ideal
harmony; all external figures will recall to her memory ideal form;
and all lucid bodies will represent with advantage to her inward eye
the brighter light reflected in the mirror of imagination. Indeed,
sensible light, will be found to possess a remarkable sympathy with
this purer light of the soul. For when this intellectual splendor is
firmly introduced, and illuminates every part of the phantasy, the
smallest spark, and the most glimmering ray of external light, will
call forth into energy that sacred light, which is now perfectly seated
in the sanctuary of the soul. Such too will be the temperament of the
soul in this case, that she will spontaneously utter musical sounds,
as indications of the harmony within; and as echoes of the perpetual
felicity she enjoys. And such are the methods of acquiring, and such
the tokens of possessing purity of imagination, which he who obtains
will understand; but which will appear incomprehensible, and ridiculous
to him, who is not advancing in its acquisition.
And here it may not be improper to observe, that the phantasy in
this purified state, affords indubitable tokens of the possession
of truth; and serves as an instrument by which we may discover
false opinions from such as are true. For the images attending the
perceptions of reality, will always be lucid; and this in proportion
to the certainty they contain. Hence, whenever the soul is full, and
as it were, pregnant with true conceptions, certain bright phantasms,
as the progeny of her rational energies, will drop into the mirror
of imagination, and appear like images clothed with light. For the
phantasy will now no longer be similar to the dark and irriguous
cavern of Calypso (which appears to be the emblem of imagination in an
unpurified state), illuminated by sense as by an artificial fire; but
it will be totally diaphanous and full of light. It will, indeed, in
every respect resemble the palace of Ithaca, when enlightened by the
golden lamp of Minerva, during the removal of the arms by Ulysses and
Telemachus. Of which we may say with the greatest propriety:
Not such the sickly beams which unsincere,
Gild the gross vapour of this nether sphere[81].
And he who knows the truth of what I assert, may exclaim with rapture,
like Telemachus:
What miracle thus dazzles with surprise!
Distinct in rows the radiant columns rise:
The walls where-e’er my wond’ring sight I turn,
And roofs amidst a blaze of glory burn!
Some visitant of pure etherial race,
With his bright presence deigns the dome to grace.
7. In the last place, we may deservedly rank among the theological
writings of Porphyry, his treatise _Concerning the Cave of the
Nymphs_, in the 13th book of the Odyssey. This admirable work is
fortunately preserved: and as it contains some deep arcana of the
natural and symbolical theology of the ancients, together with some
beautiful observations respecting the allegory of Ulysses, I persuade
myself the following paraphrased translation of this work, will be
acceptable to the lovers of ancient learning and philosophy.
“[82]What are we to understand by the Cave, in the island of Ithaca,
which Homer 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 thro’ the grotto glide,
A lofty gate unfolds on either side;
That to the north is pervious by mankind:
The sacred south t’ immortals is consign’d.
i.e. “an olive with spreading branches stands at the head of the
Ithacensian port; and near it is a cave both pleasant and obscure,
which is sacred to the nymphs who are called Naiades. Within the
cavern, bowls and capacious amphora are formed from stone, in which
the bees deposit their delicious honey. There are likewise within the
cave long stony beams, on which the nymphs weave purple webs wonderful
to the sight. Perpetual waters flow within the grotto. But there are
two gates: one towards the north gives entrance to mortals descending:
but the other towards the south which is more divine, is impervious to
mankind; and alone affords a passage to ascending immortals.”
That the poet does not describe this cave according to truth, is
evident from hence, says Cronius, that none of those who have handed
down to us the situation of that island make any mention of such a
cave. This likewise, says he, is manifest, that it would be very absurd
for a mortal man, such as Homer, to expect, that in describing a cave
fabricated merely by poetical licence, and thus arbitrarily opening by
a new art a path to gods and men in the region of Ithaca, he should
gain the belief of mankind. It is equally as 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, having promised thus much, affirms that it was evident not
only to the wise, but also to the vulgar and unlearned, that the poet
under the veil of allegory, concealed some mysterious signification.
But the investigation of the particular meaning of these gates, and
of the cave of the nymphs, he leaves to others more disposed to such
curious enquiries, as likewise why it is both pleasant and obscure;
since darkness is by no means delightful, but is rather productive of
aversion and horror. Also why it is not simply sacred to nymphs, but
it is accurately added, which are called Naiads. Why likewise the cave
is represented as containing bowls and urns, when no mention is made
of their receiving any liquor, but the bees are said to deposit their
honey in these vessels, as in hives? Then again, why are oblong beams
placed here for the nymphs; and these not formed out of wood, or any
other ductile matter, but from stone, as well as the bowls and urns?
Which last circumstance is indeed less obscure; but that on these stony
beams, the nymphs should weave purple garments, is wonderful not only
to the sight, but 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 affirming that the purple
webs of the goddesses were exposed to human inspection. Besides this
too is wonderful, that the cave should have a double entrance; one
prepared for the descent of men, the other for the ascent of gods. And
again, that the gate pervious by men should look to the north, but the
portal of the gods to the south. Since the reason of this distribution
affords just matter for surprize and enquiry: and why an eastern and
western situation was not preferred. For almost all temples have
their entrance and statues towards the east: but those who enter them
look towards the west, when standing with their faces turned to the
statues they honour and worship the gods. Hence since this narration
abounds with obscurities, it follows that it is neither a fable, rashly
devised for the purpose of procuring delight, nor contains a true and
certain description of a place: but that something is signified by the
poet, under its obscure disguise; who likewise places, with a mystic
intent, an olive at the entrance of the cave. All which particulars
the ancients thought very laborious to investigate and explain, and
we who succeed them are of the same opinion, while endeavouring from
our own inventions to unfold the concealed meaning of the allegory.
Hence those men appear to have written very negligently concerning the
situation of the place, who believe both the cave and its contents,
to be a mere poetical figment. 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 85 stadii[83], is distant
from Panormus, a port of Cephalenia, about 12 stadii[84]. It has a
port named Phorcys; in which there is a shore, and on that shore a
cave sacred to the nymphs, in which the Phæacians are reported to have
placed Ulysses.”
By no means therefore is this cave a mere Homerical figment. But
whether the poet describes it according to its real nature, or adds
something of his own invention, yet the same questions remain to be
solved; whether you are disposed to investigate the intention of the
poet, or of those who consecrated the cave. Since neither did the
ancients consecrate temples without fabulous symbols; nor is it usual
with Homer to relate any thing rashly concerning their peculiarities.
For indeed, by how much the more any one endeavours to shew, that this
description of the cave is not an Homeric fiction, but was consecrated
to the gods, before Homer’s time; by so much the more he evinces, that
this sacred cave is filled with ancient wisdom. On which account it
is highly worthy our investigation, and necessary that its symbolical
consecration and obscure mysteries should be rendered evident by the
light of philosophical enquiry.
Antiquity then with great propriety consecrated caves and dens to
the world, whether taken collectively as the universe, or separately
according to its parts. Hence they considered earth as the symbol of
that matter from which the world is composed; so that, according to
the opinion of some, matter and earth are the same: by the symbol of
a cave, signifying the formation of the world from matter. For indeed
caves are most commonly spontaneous productions, congenial with the
earth herself, and comprehended by one uniform stone; whose interior
part is concave, and whose exterior parts are extended over an immense
space of earth. But the world being self-born, (i.e. produced by no
external cause but from a principle within,) and in perfect symphony
with itself, is allied to matter which they call, according to a secret
signification; a stone and a rock. For like these hard bodies it is
sluggish and inert, and receives the impression of ornamenting form: at
the same time they considered it as infinite on account of its formless
nature. But since it is continually flowing, and of itself destitute
of the supervening investments of species by which it is formed and
becomes visible, the flowing waters, darkness, or, as the poet says,
obscurity of the cavern exhibit apt symbols of what the world contains
on account of that matter with which it is connected. Hence through
the dark union of matter, the world is obscure and dark, but from the
presence and supervening ornaments of form (from which it derives it
name) it is beautiful and pleasant. The world therefore may with great
propriety be called a cave; agreeable indeed, at its first entrance,
on account of its participation of form, but involved in the deepest
obscurity to the intellectual eye which endeavours to discern its dark
foundation. So that its exterior and superficial parts are pleasant,
but its interior and profound parts obscure: and its very bottom
is darkness itself. After the same manner the Persians mystically
signifying the descent of the soul into an inferior nature, and its
ascent into the intelligible world, initiate the priest or mystic in a
place which they denominate a cave. For according to Eubulus, Zoroaster
first of all among the neighbouring mountains of Persia, consecrated a
natural cave, florid and watered with fountains, in honour of Mithras
the father of all things: a cave in the opinion of Zoroaster bearing
a resemblance of the world fabricated by Mithras. But the things
contained in the cavern, being disposed by certain intervals, according
to symmetry and order, were symbols of the elements and climates of
the world. We find too that after Zoroaster it was usual with others
to perform initiatory rites in caves and dens, whether natural or
artificial. For as they consecrated temples, groves, and altars to the
celestial gods; but to the terrestrial gods and to heroes altars alone,
and to the subterranean divinities vaults and cells; so to the world
they dedicated caves and dens; as likewise to nymphs, on account of the
waters trickling, and dispersed through caverns, in which the nymphs
called Naiads, as we shall shortly observe, preside. But the ancients
not only considered a cave as the symbol of this generated and sensible
world, but as the representative of every invisible power: because as
a cave is obscure and dark, so the essence of these powers is unknown.
Hence Saturn fabricated a cave in the ocean itself, and concealed his
children in its dark retreats. Thus Ceres educated Proserpine with her
nymphs in a cave; and many other particulars of this kind may be found
by any one who peruses the writings of Theologists. But that caves
are attributed to nymphs, and especially to Naiads, who dwell near
fountains, and are called Naiads from the waters over whose flowing
streams they preside, the hymn to Apollo indicates in these words:
[85]“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.” From hence as it appears to me the
Pythagoreans, and after them Plato took occasion to call the world a
cave and a den. For the powers which are the leaders and guides of
souls thus speak in a verse of Empedocles.
“We will enter into this cave covered with rocks.”
And Plato in the seventh book of his Republic, speaking of the
condition of mankind in this sensible world, says, “Behold men as if
dwelling in a subterranean cavern, whose entrance opens through the
whole cave to the admission of the light.” But when the other person
in the dialogue says, you relate an absurd similitude, he subjoins:
“It is requisite, friend Glaucus, to apply this similitude to all that
has been previously said: assimilating this terrene habitation which
is the object of corporeal fight, to the dark residence of a prison:
but accomodating the fire shining in the recesses of the cavern to the
solar light.” And thus it is sufficiently evident, that theologists
have considered a cave as a symbol of the world, and of the powers
it contains. But we observed that they likewise considered a cave as
the symbol of an intelligible essence; led to this opinion by reasons
very different from the former. For they placed it as a symbol of the
sensible world, because caverns are dark, stony and humid; resembling
in all these respects the world on account of the obscure nature
of that matter from which it is composed, the continual impression
of forms to which it is obnoxious, and the constant flowing of all
its parts. But a cave resembles intelligible essence, both because
invisible to the eyes and sense, and because its substance is solid,
firm, and durable. And in the same manner particular virtues or powers
are inconspicuous, especially such as are united with matter. For they
did not consider a cave as the symbol of a material and immaterial
nature on account of its figure as some have suspected: (since every
cave is not circular as appears from this Homeric cavern with a double
entrance) but from surveying the natural condition of caves, involved
in the depths of obscurity and night, and formed from the union
of a hard and stony substance. Again, since a cave has a two-fold
similitude, it must agree in some particulars with sensible substance,
but in others with an intelligible essence. Thus the present cave since
it contains perpetual waters, in this respect resembles a substance
united with matter, and not that which is immaterial and intelligible.
On this account the cave is not sacred to mountain divinities, to those
who dwell on hills, or to other deities of this kind, but to Naiads so
called by the Greeks from νάματα, fountains; because they preside over
waters: and this term is commonly applied to all souls passing into the
humid and flowing condition of a generative nature. These souls they
considered as incumbent on the water, which is nourished by a divine
spirit as Numenius affirms: and hence a prophet said, _that the spirit
of God moved on the waters_. The Egyptians likewise on this account
place all dæmons, not connected with any thing solid or stable, but
raised on a sailing vessel; and it is known that humor invades the sun
itself, and all animals descending into generation. Hence Heraclitus
observes “that it appears delightful, and not mortal to souls, when
they are born connected with humidity.” And he says in another place,
speaking of unembodied souls, “we live their death, and we die their
life.” Hence the poet calls men existing in generation διερούς, i.e.
humid, because their souls are drenched in moisture. On this account
too, such souls delight in blood and humid seed: but water administers
nutriment to the souls of plants. Besides, according to the opinions
of some men aerial and celestial bodies, are nourished by the vapours
of fountains and rivers and other exhalations. Thus the Stoics assert
that the sun is nourished by the exhalation of the sea; the moon from
the effluvia of fountains and rivers; but the stars from the exhalation
of the earth. Hence according to them the sun is a certain intellectual
composition formed from the sea; the moon from river waters; and the
stars from terrene exhalations. It is necessary therefore that souls,
whether they are corporeal or incorporeal, while they attract bodies,
must verge to humidity, and be incorporated with humid natures;
especially such souls, as from their material inclinations ought to
be united with blood, and confined in humid bodies as in a watery
tegument. Hence the souls of the dead are evocated by the effusion of
bile and blood: and souls insnared by corporeal love, and attracting
to their nature a humid spirit, condense this watery vehicle like a
cloud; for a cloud is nothing more than humour condensed in the air.
But the pneumatic part thus condensed, through too great an abundance
of humour becomes the object of corporeal sight. 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; on which account
the same Heraclitus observes “a dry soul is the wisest.” But souls
thus desiring to be mingled with body, and attracting a humid vapour,
by their propensity to generation render their pneumatic part moist
and wet, and by thus verging to the ever-flowing waters of generation,
are deservedly called Naiads. Hence it is customary with the Greeks
to call nymphs γαμουμένας, or married, as those who are copulated
to generation; and to wash in a bath whose waters are derived from
fountains or perpetual rills. This world then is sacred and pleasant
to nymphs, i.e. to souls proceeding into a material nature, and to
genii participating of generation, although it is naturally dark and
opake; on which account some are of opinion that souls are composed
from a certain aerial opacity. Hence a cave is a habitation peculiarly
adapted to such souls; since it is both pleasant and obscure, like
this material region, in which souls reside. A cave likewise through
which perpetual waters flow is well adapted to nymphs, the divinities
of waters. The present cave therefore must be allowed sacred to
souls, and to those more particular powers denominated nymphs, who
from their being præfects of rivers and fountains are called πεγαιαὶ
and ναιδὲς, i.e. fountain and river divinities. What then are the
different symbols, some of which correspond to souls, and others to
the divinities of waters, by which it may be manifest that this cave
is at the same time dedicated and consecrated to both? We reply that
the stony bowls and urns are symbols of the aquatic nymphs. For vessels
of the same form are symbols of Bacchus; but their composition is
testaceous, that is, from baked earth. And indeed such as these are
correspondent to the gift of this 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 urns, are most admirably accommodated to nymphs
presiding over waters which flow from rocks. And what symbol is more
proper to souls descending into generation, and the tenacious vestment
of body, than as the poet says, “Nymphs weaving on stony beams purple
garments wonderful to behold?” For the flesh is generated in and about
the bones, which in the bodies of animals may be compared to stones. On
which account these textorial instruments, are fabricated from stones
alone. But the purple garments plainly appear to be the flesh with
which we are invested; and which is woven as it were and grows by the
connecting and vivifying power of the blood, diffused through every
part. Besides, purple garments are tinged with the blood of animals;
and flesh is produced and subsists from blood. Add too that the body
is a garment with which the soul is invested; a circumstance indeed
wonderful to the sight, whether we regard its composition, or consider
the connecting band by which it is knit to the soul. Thus according
to Orpheus, Proserpine who presides over every thing generated from
seed, is represented weaving a web; and the ancients called heaven
by the name of πέπλος, which is as it were the veil or tegument of
the celestial gods. But why are the amphora represented filled with
honey-combs, and not with water? For in these as he says the bees
deposit their honey. But the word τιθαιβώσσειν, signifies nothing more
than τιθέναι τὴν βόσιν, i.e. to deposit aliment. And honey is the
nutriment of bees.
Indeed, theologists have made honey subservient to many and various
symbols, because it is indued with a variety of powers: for it
possesses a purging and preserving quality. Hence bodies are kept from
putrefaction by its use, and ulcers of long standing are purified:
besides it is sweet to the taste, and bees produced from putrid oxen,
collect it by a wonderful art from flowers. On this account when in
the sacred rites called λεοντικά, those who are initiated, pour honey
instead of water on their hands, it is signified by this practice,
that their hands should be pure from every sorrowful, noxious, and
abominable concern. Thus, others purify the initiated by a purgatorial
rite from fire, but are averse from water as the enemy of fire. Besides
they purify the tongue from all the defilement of evil with honey. But
when the Persians offer honey to the guardian of fruits, they regard
its preserving power as a symbol of its similitude to divine nature. In
like manner when the poet pours nectar and ambrosia into the nostrils
of the slain, for the purpose of preserving the body from putrefaction,
some have interpreted honey as the aliment of the gods. For Homer in a
certain place calls nectar yellow; which is also the colour of honey.
But whether or not honey is to be taken for nectar, we shall hereafter
more accurately examine. Again, we find in Orpheus that Jupiter employs
stratagems against Saturn from honey. For Saturn full of honey is
intoxicated, his senses are darkened as if from the effects of wine,
and he sleeps: just as Porus, according to Plato, is distended with
nectar; for wine (says he) was not yet known. But night admonishes
Jupiter to employ the stratagem of honey, according to Orpheus, in
these words,
“As soon as you behold him spread under the lofty oaks, intoxicated
with the sweet honey produced by the bees, bind him in chains.”
Saturn, therefore, intoxicated with honey is bound by Jupiter; and
castrated in the same manner as Cælum. But the theological poet
intimates by this fable that the divine essences are, as it were,
bound, and drawn down by delight into the fluctuating empire of
generation; and that when resolved in pleasure, they produce certain
powers by their seminal virtue. Thus Saturn castrates Cælum, who,
by his desire of coition descends to earth. But the intoxication of
honey, signifies among theologists nothing more than the desire of
coition; by the ensnaring power of which Saturn is castrated. For
Saturn and his orb is the first of the celestial spheres, which moves
contrary to the course of Cælum or the heavens. But certain virtues
descend as well from the heavens as from the wandering stars, and
the influences of the heavens are received by Saturn, and those of
Saturn by Jupiter. Hence, since honey is assumed in purgations, and
as an antidote to putrefaction, and aptly represents the pleasure and
delight of descending into the fascinating realms of generation, it is
accounted a symbol well adapted to nymphs the divinities of waters;
signifying the nature of the waters over which they preside free
from putrefaction: intimating likewise the purgative quality of the
waters and their co-operating in the business of generation. For water
promotes generation. The poet, therefore, very properly represents the
bees as depositing their honey in bowls and urns: since bowls signify
fountains; and on this account a bowl or cup is placed next to Mythras
instead of a fountain. But we draw the waters of fountains in Amphora;
and fountains and rivers are proper to aquatic nymphs, and especially
to the nymphs called by the ancients souls, which antiquity likewise
peculiarly denominated μελίσσας, i.e. artificers of sweetness or bees:
for souls are, indeed, the authors of all the pleasure peculiar to our
nature.
Hence Sophocles does not speak improperly, when he says,
“The swarm of the dead utters a buzzing noise.”
But the priestesses of Ceres, as ministers to the terrene goddess
were formerly called bees; and her daughter Proserpine μελιττώδη, or
delicious, alluding to the sweetness of honey. Besides the moon who
is the queen of generation was denominated by the ancients a bee, and
likewise a bull: for the exaltation of the Moon is Taurus; and bees
are generated from oxen; on which account they are called βουγενεῖς,
which name is likewise attributed to souls proceeding into generation.
Also the god Mercury is esteemed a stealer of oxen, who is secretly
conscious of generation. Besides honey is considered as a symbol of
death, in the same manner as gall is of life; whether they indicated by
such similitudes that the life of the soul dies by the noxious embraces
of pleasure, but enjoys life from bitterness, which by its disgustful
sensation prevents the soul from sinking into that drowsy oblivion
produced by corporeal delight (on which account they sacrificed gall to
the gods); or whether the symbol originated from considering that death
is the end of evils, but that the present life is laborious and bitter.
But it is here necessary to observe that they did not promiscuously
call all souls descending into the whirl of generation bees; but only
those who, while residing in this fluctuating region, acted justly;
and who, after being in a manner acceptable to the divinities returned
to their pristine felicity. For the bee is an animal, accustomed to
return to its former place; and is studious of justice and sobriety,
on which account libations with honey are called νηφάλιοι, or sober.
The ancients likewise refrained from sitting on beans, which they
considered as a symbol of generation proceeding in a regular series
without being intercepted; because this leguminous vegetable is
almost the only one, amongst other fruits, whose stalk is perforated
throughout without any intervening knots. We must, therefore, admit
that honey-combs and bees are symbols, as well peculiar as common to
nymphs the divinities of waters; and at the same time to souls wedded
to the humid and fluctuating nature of generation.
But let us now return to the cave and consider its double entrance.
The most ancient of mankind then, before temples were raised to
divinity, consecrated caves and dens to the gods. Hence the Curetes
in Crete dedicated a cave to Jupiter; in Arcadia a cave was sacred to
the Moon, in Lyceum to Pan, and in the island Naxus to Bacchus. The
worship of Mithras too, wherever this god was known was performed in
caves. But with respect to this cave of the nymphs in Ithaca, Homer
was not alone content with saying that it had two gates, but he adds
that the one looks to the north, and the other, more divine, to the
south; concerning which he does not mention whether it is pervious to
the descent of either immortals or mankind, as is the case with the
northern entrance, but he only says,
“The other of these tends to the south, which is not pervious to men,
but is alone open to immortals.”
It remains, therefore, to investigate either the secret meaning
of those who first instituted this cave, according to the poet’s
description; or what occult signification Homer himself intended to
convey, if it is nothing more than a fiction of his own inventing.
Since then, the present cave in an eminent degree is a symbol and
image of the world, as Numenius and his familiar Cronius affirm, it
is necessary, in order to elucidate the reason of the position of the
gates, to observe that there are two extremities in the heavens; viz.
the winter-solstice, than which no part of heaven is nearer to the
south; and the summer-solstice which is situated next to the north.
But the summer tropic, that is, the solstitial circle is in Cancer,
and the winter tropic in Capricorn. And since Cancer is the nearest to
the earth, it is deservedly attributed to the moon, which is itself
proximate to the earth. But since the southern pole by its great
distance is inconspicuous to us, Capricorn is ascribed to Saturn, who
is the highest and most remote of all the planets. Again, the signs
from Cancer to Capricorn are situated in the following order; the
first is Leo called by astrologers the house of the sun; afterwards
Virgo, or the house of Mercury; Libra of Venus; Scorpius of Mars;
Sagittarius of Jupiter; and Capricornus or the house of Saturn. But
from Capricorn in an inverse order, Sagittarius is attributed to
Saturn; Pisces to Jupiter; Aries to Mars; Taurus to Venus; Gemini to
Mercury; and last of all Cancer to the Moon. From among the number of
these theologists consider Cancer and Capricorn as two ports; Plato
calls them two gates. Of these, they affirm that Cancer is the gate
through which souls descend, but Capricorn that through which they
ascend, and exchange a material for a divine condition of being[86].
Cancer is, indeed, northern and adapted to descent: but Capricorn,
is southern, and accommodated to ascent. And, indeed, the gates of
the cave which look to the north, are with great propriety 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 it is the passage of the gods, but of
immortals; which appellation is also common to our souls, whether in
their whole essence or from some particular and most excellent part
only, they are denominated immortal. It is reported that Parmenides
mentions these two ports in his book, concerning the nature of things:
as likewise that they were not unknown to the Egyptians and Romans. For
the Romans celebrate their Saturnalia when the sun is in Capricorn,
and during this festivity the servants wear the shoes of those who
are free, and all things are distributed among them in common; the
legislator intimating by this ceremony, that those who are servants at
present, by the condition of their birth, will be hereafter liberated
by the Saturnalian feast, and by the house attributed to Saturn,
i.e. Capricorn; when reviving in that sign, and being divested of
the material garments of generation, they return to their pristine
felicity, and to the fountain of life. But since the path beginning
from Capricorn is retrograde, and pertains to descent; hence the
origin of the word Januarius or January from Janua a gate, which is
the space of time measured by the sun while returning from Capricorn
towards the east, he directs his course to the northern parts. But
with the Egyptians the beginning of the year is not Aquarius, as among
the Romans, but Cancer. For the star, so this borders on Cancer, which
star the Greeks denominate Κύων, or the Dog. When this star rises they
celebrate the calends of the month, which begins their year; because
this is the place of the heavens where generation commences, by which
the world subsists. On this account the doors 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 particularly to those
ports or celestial signs which are the nearest of all to these quarters
of the world: and this because the present cave is sacred to souls, and
to nymphs the divinities of waters. But these places are particularly
adapted either to souls descending into generation, or to such as are
separating from it. On this account they assigned a place congruous to
Mithras, near the equinoctial; and hence he bears the sword of Aries,
because this animal is martial, and is the sign of Mars: he is likewise
carried in the Bull the sign of Venus; because the Bull as well as
Venus is the ruler of generation. But Mithras is placed near the
equinoctial circle, comprehending the northern parts on his right, and
the southern on his left hand. Likewise to the southern hemisphere they
added the south, because it is hot, and to the northern hemisphere, the
north, on account of the coldness of the wind in that quarter. Again,
it was not without reason that they connected winds with souls sinking
to generation, and again separating themselves from its stormy whirl:
because, according to the opinion of some, souls attract a spirit, and
obtain a pneumatic substance. Indeed, Boreas is proper to souls passing
into generation: for the northern blasts recreate those who are on the
verge of death; and refresh the soul reluctantly detained in the body.
On the contrary, the southern gales dissolve life. For the north, from
its superior coldness, collects into one, detains and strengthens the
soul in the moist and frigid embraces of terrene generation: but the
south dissolves the humid bands, and by its superior heat, having freed
the soul from the dark and cold tenement of the body, draws it upward
to the incorporeal light and heat of divinity. But since our habitable
orb verges mostly to the north, it is proper that souls born in this
turbulent region should be conversant with the north wind; and those
who depart from hence with the south. It is, indeed, on this account
that wind blowing from the north, is immediately on its commencement
vehement; but the south, on the contrary, is more vehement towards
the end. For the former hangs directly over the inhabitants of the
north pole, but the latter is more distant, and the blast from places
very remote, is more tardy than from such as are near; but when it is
gradually collected it blows abundantly and with vigour. Hence, because
souls enter into generation, through the northern gate, they have
feigned this wind to be amatorial; and hence the poet:
[87]“Boreas changed into the form of a horse mingled himself with
the mares of Ericthonius; and they big with young produced twice six
foal.” And they report that he committed a rape on Orithyia, from whom
he begot Zetis and Calais. But attributing the south to the gods, when
the sun is at his meridian, they draw the curtains before the statues
of the Gods in temples; and conceal them from the view, observing the
Homeric precept, that it is not lawful for men to enter temples when
the sun is inclined to the south: “for this path is open to immortals
alone.”
[88]Hence when the god is at his meridian they place a symbol of
mid-day and of the south in the gate of the temple. Besides, in other
gates it was esteemed unlawful to speak at all times; because they
considered gates as sacred. On this account too the Pythagoreans, and
wise men among the Egyptians, forbade any person to speak while passing
through gates or portals; for at that time the divinity who is the
principle of the universe is to be worshipped in silence. But Homer was
not ignorant that gates are sacred, because he represents Oeneus in the
place of supplication knocking at the gate.
Before his gates the aged Oeneus came,
And suppliant shook their well-compacted frame[89].
Besides he knew that the gates of heaven were committed to the care of
the hours, commencing in cloudy places; and which are opened and shut
by the clouds: for he says,
“Whether they unfold, or close a dense cloud[90].”
Hence likewise they are said to resound because thunders roar through
the clouds.
Heaven’s gates spontaneous open to the powers,
Heavens sounding gates kept by the winged hours[91].
Besides Homer elsewhere makes mention of the gates of the sun,
signifying by these Cancer and Capricorn: for the sun proceeds as far
as 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 milky circle, Cancer occupying the northern
extremity of this circle, and Capricorn the southern. Again, according
to Pythagoras _the people of dreams_[92] are souls, which are reported
to be collected in the milky way; the appellation of which is derived
from souls, nourished with milk after their lapse into the whirls
of generation. Hence those who desire to evocate departed souls,
sacrifice to them with milk sweetened with honey: convinced that by
the allurements of pleasure, these souls would desire to pass into
generation, with the very beginning of which milk is generally produced.
Besides the southern regions produce small bodies, because being
attenuated by the heat they are diminished and dried up: and by a
contrary reason all bodies generated in the north are large, as is
evident in the Celtæ or Gauls, Thracians, and Scythians; and these
regions are humid and abound with much pasture. For the word Boreas
is derived from the Greek βορά, which signifies aliment. Hence also
the wind which blows from a land abounding in nutriments is called
βοῤῥᾶς or nutritive. From these causes therefore the northern parts
are properly adapted to the class of souls obnoxious to mortality and
generation; but the southern quarter to immortals, exempt from the
mutability inseparable from the flowing realms of generation: in the
same manner as the east is attributed to the gods, and the west to
demons. Hence since diversity is the origin of nature, the ancients
considered every thing with a double entrance, as the symbol of nature.
For the progression of things is either through an intelligible or
a sensible nature. And if through a sensible nature, either through
the sphere of the fixed stars, or through the orbs of the planets;
and again either with an immortal or a mortal motion. Likewise one
centre or hinge of the world is above the earth, but the other is
subterranean; and one part of the heavens is eastern, and another
western. In like manner some parts of the world have a dexter, and
others a sinister position. Thus to night is opposed to day; and the
harmony of the universe consists from the amicable junction of contrary
and not similar natures. Plato also makes mention of two gates, one of
which affords a passage to those ascending into the heavens, the other
to those descending on the earth: and theologists place the sun and
moon as the gates of souls, which ascend through the sun and descend
through the moon. So, according to Homer,
“Two urns by Jove’s high throne have ever stood,
The source of evil one, and one of good[93].”
But Plato, in his Gorgias, by vases understands souls, some of which
are beneficent, and others malignant, and again some are rational and
others irrational. But souls are denominated vases because they are
capacious of certain energies and habits, after the manner of vessels.
In Hesiod too we find one vase shut, but the other opened by pleasure,
who diffuses its contents, and leaves nothing but hope behind. For in
whatever concerns a depraved soul diffused about the dark and turbulent
nature of matter, deserts the proper order of its essence; in all
these, it is accustomed to nourish itself with the pleasing though
delusive prospects of hope.
Since then every two-fold division is a symbol of nature, this Homeric
cavern has with great propriety two gates, numerically different; the
one peculiar to gods and pure souls; but the other to such as are
mortal and depraved. Hence Plato took occasion to speak of bowls, and
to substitute vases for Amphora, and two gates, as we have already
observed, in the place of two ports. Also Pherecydes Syrus, mentions
recesses, and dens, caves, gates, and ports, by which he insinuates the
generation of souls, and their separation from a material nature. And
thus much for an interpretation of Homer’s cave, which we appear to
have sufficiently explained, without adducing any farther testimonies
from ancient philosophers and theologists, which would give an
unreasonable extent to our discourse.
One particular however remains to be explained, and that is the symbol
of the olive at the top of the cavern; since Homer appears to insinuate
something egregious by giving such a position: for he does not merely
say that an olive grows in this place, but that it flourishes at the
head or vertex of the cave.
“High at the head a branching olive grows,
Beneath a gloomy grotto’s cool recess, &c.”
But the growth of the olive in such a situation is not fortuitous as
some may suspect, since it finishes and contains the ænigma of the
cave. For as the world was not produced by the blind concurrence of
chance, but is the work of divine wisdom and an intellectual nature,
hence an olive the symbol of divine wisdom, flourishes near the
present cavern, which is an emblem of the material world. For the
olive is the plant of Minerva, and Minerva is wisdom. And since this
goddess was produced from the head of Jupiter, the theological poet
gives a proper position to the olive, consecrated at the head of the
port: signifying by this symbol that the universe is the offspring of
an intelligible nature, separated indeed by a diversity of essence,
though not by distance of place from his work; and by unremitting and
ever present energies, not remote from any part of the universe, but
situated as it were on its very summit, that is governing the whole
with perfect wisdom from the dignity and excellence of his nature. But
since an olive always flourishes, it bears a similitude peculiar and
convenient to the revolutions of souls in this material region. For in
summer the white part of the leaves is upwards, but in winter it is
bent downwards. On this account also in prayers and supplications they
extend the branches of an olive, presaging from this omen that they
shall exchange the sorrowful darkness of danger for the fair light of
security and peace. But the olive is not only of an ever-flourishing
nature, it likewise bears fruit, which is the reward of labour, is
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 a wisdom ever
flourishing and vigilant, who also bestows on the conquerors in the
athletic race of life, the crown of victory, as the reward of severe
toil, and patient perseverance: and the mighty builder who supports the
universe by his divine energies, invigorates miserable and suppliant
souls, contending for the most glorious of all prizes, the olympiad of
the soul.
In this cave therefore, says Homer, all external possessions must be
deposited; here, naked and assuming a suppliant habit, afflicted in
body, and casting aside every thing superfluous, sense too being averse
from needless possessions, it is requisite to sit at the foot of the
olive, and consult with Minerva, by what means we may most effectually
amputate and destroy that hostile rout of passions, which lurk in the
secret recesses of the soul. Indeed as it appears to me it was not
without foundation that Numenius 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[94]; 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,”
Again, according to Plato, the deep, the sea, and a tempest are so
many symbols of the constitution of matter: and on this account, I
think, the poet called that port by the name of the marine-god Phorcys.”
“But it is the port of the ancient marine Phorcys[95]”.
Likewise his daughter Thoosa, is mentioned in the beginning
of the Odyssey. But from Thoosa the Cyclops was born, whom Ulysses
deprived of sight that he might by this means while sailing over the
stormy ocean be reminded of his sins, 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 supplicates divinity, and would please his
natal dæmon with a suppliant branch. For indeed it will not be lawful
for any one to depart from this sensible life in a regular way and
in the shortest time, who blinds and irritates his material dæmon;
but he who dares to do this, will be pursued by the anger of the
marine and material gods, whom it is first requisite to appease, by
sacrifices, labours, and patient endurance; at one time by contending
with perturbations, at another time by employing stratagems of various
kinds, by all which he transmutes himself into different forms;, so
that at length being stripped 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 freed from molestation, till he has entirely
passed over the raging sea, and taken a long farewell of its storms;
till though connected with a mortal nature, through deep attention to
intelligible concerns, he becomes so ignorant of marine and material
operations, as to mistake an oar for a corn-van.
Nor is it proper to believe that interpretations of this kind are
forced, and are nothing more than the conjectures of ingenious men:
but when we consider the great wisdom of antiquity; and how much Homer
excelled in prudence and in every kind of virtue, we ought not to
doubt, but that he has secretly represented the images of divine things
under der the concealments of fable. For it is not possible that this
whole exposition could be devised, unless from certain established
truths, an occasion of fiction had been given. But rejecting the
discussion of this to another work, we shall here finish our proposed
explication of the cave of the nymphs.