SECTION XIII.

HIS MODE OF LIFE.

We will now present the reader with some general indications of the mode

of life of Apollonius, and the manner of his teaching, of which already

something has been said under the heading "Early Life."

Our philosopher was an enthusiastic follower of the Pythagorean

discipline; nay, Philostratus would have us believe that he made more

superhuman efforts to reach wisdom than even the great Samian (i. 2).

The outer forms of this discipline as exemplified in Pythagoras are thus

summed up by our author.

"Naught would he wear that came from a dead beast, nor touch a morsel of

a thing that once had life, nor offer it in sacrifice; not for him to

stain with blood the altars; but honey-cakes and incense, and the

service of his song went upward from the man unto the Gods, for well he

knew that they would take such gifts far rather than the oxen in their

hundreds with the knife. For he, in sooth, held converse with the Gods

and learned from them how they were pleased with men and how displeased,

and thence as well he drew his nature-lore. As for the rest, he said,

they guessed at the divine, and held opinions on the Gods which proved

each other false; but unto him Apollo's self did come, confessed,

without disguise,[111] and there did come as well, though unconfessed,

Athena and the Muses, and other Gods whose forms and names mankind did

not yet know."

Hence his disciples regarded Pythagoras as an inspired teacher, and

received his rules as laws. "In particular did they keep the rule of

silence regarding the divine science. For they heard within them many

divine and unspeakable things on which it would have been difficult for

them to keep silence, had they not first learned that it was just this

silence which spoke to them" (i. 1).

Such was the general declaration of the nature of the Pythagorean

discipline by its disciples. But, says Apollonius in his address to the

Gymnosophists, Pythagoras was not the inventor of it. It was the

immemorial wisdom, and Pythagoras himself had learnt it from the

Indians.[112] This wisdom, he continued, had spoken to him in his youth;

she had said:

"For sense, young sir, I have no charms; my cup is filled with toils

unto the brim. Would anyone embrace my way of life, he must resolve to

banish from his board all food that once bore life, to lose the memory

of wine, and thus no more to wisdom's cup befoul--the cup that doth

consist of wine-untainted souls. Nor shall wool warm him, nor aught

that's made from any beast. I give my servants shoes of bast and as they

can to sleep. And if I find them overcome with love's delights, I've

ready pits down into which that justice which doth follow hard on

wisdom's foot, doth drag and thrust them; indeed, so stern am I to those

who choose my way, that e'en upon their tongues I bind a chain. Now hear

from me what things thou'lt gain, if thou endure. An innate sense of

fitness and of right, and ne'er to feel that any's lot is better than

thy own; tyrants to strike with fear instead of being a fearsome slave

to tyranny; to have the Gods more greatly bless thy scanty gifts than

those who pour before them blood of bulls. If thou art pure, I'll give

thee how to know what things will be as well, and fill thy eyes so full

of light, that thou may'st recognise the Gods, the heroes know, and

prove and try the shadowy forms that feign the shapes of men" (vi. 11).

The whole life of Apollonius shows that he tried to carry out

consistently this rule of life, and the repeated statements that he

would never join in the blood-sacrifices of the popular cults (see

especially i. 24, 31; iv. 11; v. 25), but openly condemned them, show

not only that the Pythagorean school had ever set the example of the

higher way of purer offerings, but that they were not only not condemned

and persecuted as heretics on this account, but were rather regarded as

being of peculiar sanctity, and as following a life superior to that of

ordinary mortals.

The refraining from the flesh of animals, however, was not simply based

upon ideas of purity, it found additional sanction in the positive love

of the lower kingdoms and the horror of inflicting pain on any living

creature. Thus Apollonius bluntly refused to take any part in the chase,

when invited to do so by his royal host at Babylon. "Sire," he replied,

"have you forgotten that even when you sacrifice I will not be present?

Much less then would I do these beasts to death, and all the more when

their spirit is broken and they are penned in contrary to their nature"

(i. 38).[113]

But though Apollonius was an unflinching task-master unto himself, he

did not wish to impose his mode of life on others, even on his personal

friends and companions (provided of course they did not adopt it of

their own free will). Thus he tells Damis that he has no wish to

prohibit him from eating flesh and drinking wine, he simply demands the

right of refraining himself and of defending his conduct if called on to

do so (ii. 7). This is an additional indication that Damis was not a

member of the inner circle of discipline, and the latter fact explains

why so faithful a follower of the person of Apollonius was nevertheless

so much in the dark.

Not only so, but Apollonius even dissuades the R[=a]j[=a]h Phraotes, his

first host in India, who desired to adopt his strict rule, from doing

so, on the ground that it would estrange him too much from his subjects

(ii. 37).

Three times a day Apollonius prayed and meditated; at daybreak (vi. 10,

18; vii. 31), at mid-day (vii. 10), and at sun-down (viii. 13). This

seems to have been his invariable custom; no matter where he was he

seems to have devoted at least a few moments to silent meditation at

these times. The object of his worship is always said to have been the

"Sun," that is to say the Lord of our world and its sister worlds, whose

glorious symbol is the orb of day.

We have already seen in the short sketch devoted to his "Early Life" how

he divided the day and portioned out his time among his different

classes of hearers and inquirers. His style of teaching and speaking was

the opposite of that of a rhetorician or professional orator. There was

no art in his sentences, no striving after effect, no affectation. But

he spoke "as from a tripod," with such words as "I know," "Methinks,"

"Why do ye," "Ye should know." His sentences were short and compact, and

his words carried conviction with them and fitted the facts. His task,

he declared, was no longer to seek and to question as he had done in his

youth, but to teach what he knew (i. 17). He did not use the dialectic

of the Socratic school, but would have his hearers turn from all else

and give ear to the inner voice of philosophy alone (iv. 2). He drew his

illustrations from any chance occurrence or homely happening (iv. 3; vi.

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

listeners.

When put on his trial, he would make no preparation for his defence. He

had lived his life as it came from day to day, prepared for death, and

would continue to do so (viii. 30). Moreover it was now his deliberate

choice to challenge death in the cause of philosophy. And so to his old

friend's repeated solicitations to prepare his defence, he replied:

"Damis, you seem to lose your wits in face of death, though you have

been so long with me and I have loved philosophy e'en from my

youth;[114] I thought that you were both yourself prepared for death and

knew full well my generalship in this. For just as warriors in the field

have need not only of good courage but also of that generalship which

tells them when to fight, so too must they who wisdom love make careful

study of good times to die, that they may choose the best and not be

done to death all unprepared. That I have chosen best and picked the

moment which suits wisdom best to give death battle--if so it be that

any one should wish to slay me--I've proved to other friends when you

were by, nor ever ceased to teach you it alone" (vii. 31).

The above are some few indications of how our philosopher lived, in fear

of nothing but disloyalty to his high ideal. We will now make mention of

some of his more personal traits, and of some of the names of his

followers.

Apollonius of Tyana, the Philosopher-Reformer of the First Century A.D. · 第 13 / 18 章