EARLY LIFE.
Apollonius was born[75] at Tyana, a city in the south of Cappadocia,
somewhen in the early years of the Christian era. His parents were of
ancient family and considerable fortune (i. 4). At an early age he gave
signs of a very powerful memory and studious disposition, and was
remarkable for his beauty. At the age of fourteen he was sent to Tarsus,
a famous centre of learning of the time, to complete his studies. But
mere rhetoric and style and the life of the "schools" were little suited
to his serious disposition, and he speedily left for Ægæ, a town on the
sea-coast east of Tarsus. Here he found surroundings more suitable to
his needs, and plunged with ardour into the study of philosophy. He
became intimate with the priests of the temple of Æsculapius, where
cures were still wrought, and enjoyed the society and instruction of
pupils and teachers of the Platonic, Stoic, Peripatetic, and Epicurean
schools of philosophy; but though he studied all these systems of
thought with attention, it was the lessons of the Pythagorean school
upon which he seized with an extraordinary depth of comprehension,[76]
and that, too, although his teacher, Euxenus, was but a parrot of the
doctrines and not a practiser of the discipline. But such parrotting was
not enough for the eager spirit of Apollonius; his extraordinary
"memory," which infused life into the dull utterances of his tutor,
urged him on, and at the age of sixteen "he soared into the Pythagorean
life, winged by some greater one."[77] Nevertheless he retained his
affection for the man who had told him of the way, and rewarded him
handsomely (i. 7).
When Euxenus asked him how he would begin his new mode of life he
replied: "As doctors purge their patients." Hence he refused to touch
anything that had animal life in it, on the ground that it densified the
mind and rendered it impure. He considered that the only pure form of
food was what the earth produced, fruits and vegetables. He also
abstained from wine, for though it was made from fruit, "it rendered
turbid the æther[78] in the soul" and "destroyed the composure of the
mind." Moreover, he went barefoot, let his hair grow long, and wore
nothing but linen. He now lived in the temple, to the admiration of the
priests and with the express approval of Æsculapius,[79] and he rapidly
became so famous for his asceticism and pious life, that a saying[80] of
the Cilicians about him became a proverb (i. 8).
At the age of twenty his father died (his mother having died some years
before) leaving a considerable fortune, which Apollonius was to share
with his elder brother, a wild and dissolute youth of twenty-three.
Being still a minor, Apollonius continued to reside at Ægæ, where the
temple of Æsculapius had now become a busy centre of study, and echoed
from one end to the other with the sound of lofty philosophical
discourses. On coming of age he returned to Tyana to endeavour to rescue
his brother from his vicious life. His brother had apparently exhausted
his legal share of the property, and Apollonius at once made over half
of his own portion to him, and by his gentle admonitions restored him
to his manhood. In fact he seems to have devoted his time to setting in
order the affairs of the family, for he distributed the rest of his
patrimony among certain of his relatives, and kept for himself but a
bare pittance; he required but little, he said, and should never marry
(i. 13).
He now took the vow of silence for five years, for he was determined not
to write on philosophy until he had passed through this wholesome
discipline. These five years were passed mostly in Pamphylia and
Cilicia, and though he spent much time in study, he did not immure
himself in a community or monastery but kept moving about and travelling
from city to city. The temptations to break his self-imposed vow were
enormous. His strange appearance drew everyone's attention, the
laughter-loving populace made the silent philosopher the butt of their
unscrupulous wit, and all the protection he had against their scurrility
and misconceptions was the dignity of his mien and the glance of eyes
that now could see both past and future. Many a time he was on the verge
of bursting out against some exceptional insult or lying gossip, but
ever he restrained himself with the words: "Heart, patient be, and thou,
my tongue, be still"[81] (i. 14).
Yet even this stern repression of the common mode of speech did not
prevent his good doing. Even at this early age he had begun to correct
abuses. With eyes and hands and motions of the head, he made his meaning
understood, and on one occasion, at Aspendus in Pamphylia, prevented a
serious corn riot by silencing the crowd with his commanding gestures
and then writing what he had to say on his tablets (i. 15).
So far, apparently, Philostratus has been dependent upon the account of
Maximus of Ægæ, or perhaps only up to the time of Apollonius' quitting
Ægæ. There is now a considerable gap in the narrative, and two short
chapters of vague generalities (i. 16, 17) are all that Philostratus can
produce as the record of some fifteen or twenty[82] years, until Damis'
notes begin.
After the five years of silence, we find Apollonius at Antioch, but this
seems to be only an incident in a long round of travel and work, and it
is probable that Philostratus brings Antioch into prominence merely
because what little he had learnt of this period of Apollonius' life, he
picked up in this much-frequented city.
Even from Philostratus himself we learn incidentally later on (i. 20;
iv. 38) that Apollonius had spent some time among the Arabians, and had
been instructed by them. And by Arabia we are to understand the country
south of Palestine, which was at this period a regular hot-bed of mystic
communities. The spots he visited were in out-of-the-way places, where
the spirit of holiness lingered, and not the crowded and disturbed
cities, for the subject of his conversation, he said, required "_men_
and not people."[83] He spent his time in travelling from one to another
of these temples, shrines, and communities; from which we may conclude
that there was some kind of a common freemasonry, as it were, among
them, of the nature of initiation, which opened the door of hospitality
to him.
But wherever he went, he always held to a certain regular division of
the day. At sun-rise he practised certain religious exercises alone, the
nature of which he communicated only to those who had passed through the
discipline of a "four years'" (? five years') silence. He then conversed
with the temple priests or the heads of the community, according as he
was staying in a Greek or non-Greek temple with public rites, or in a
community with a discipline peculiar to itself apart from the public
cult.[84]
He thus endeavoured to bring back the public cults to the purity of
their ancient traditions, and to suggest improvements in the practices
of the private brotherhoods. The most important part of his work was
with those who were following the inner life, and who already looked
upon Apollonius as a teacher of the hidden way. To these his comrades
([Greek: hetairous]) and pupils ([Greek: homilêtas]), he devoted much
attention, being ever ready to answer their questions and give advice
and instruction. Not however that he neglected the people; it was his
invariable custom to teach them, but always after mid-day; for those who
lived the inner life,[85] he said, should on day's dawning enter the
presence of the Gods,[86] then spend the time till mid-day in giving and
receiving instruction in holy things, and not till after noon devote
themselves to human affairs. That is to say, the morning was devoted by
Apollonius to the divine science, and the afternoon to instruction in
ethics and practical life. After the day's work he bathed in cold water,
as did so many of the mystics of the time in those lands, notably the
Essenes and Therapeuts (i. 16).
"After these things," says Philostratus, as vaguely as the writer of a
gospel narrative, Apollonius determined to visit the Brachmanes and
Sarmanes.[87] What induced our philosopher to make so long and dangerous
a journey nowhere appears from Philostratus, who simply says that
Apollonius thought it a good thing for a young man[88] to travel. It is
abundantly evident, however, that Apollonius never travelled merely for
the sake of travelling. What he does he does with a distinct purpose.
And his guides on this occasion, as he assures his disciples who tried
to dissuade him from his endeavour and refused to accompany him, were
wisdom and his inner monitor (dæmon). "Since ye are faint-hearted," says
the solitary pilgrim, "I bid you farewell. As for myself I must go
whithersoever wisdom and my inner self may lead me. The Gods are my
advisers and I can but rely on their counsels" (i. 18).