It is said in _Isis Unveiled_ that the greatest teachers of divinity agree
that nearly all ancient books were written symbolically and in a language
intelligible only to the Initiated. The biographical sketch of Apollonius
of Tyana affords an example. As every Kabalist knows, it embraces the
whole of the Hermetic Philosophy, being a counterpart in many respects of
the traditions left us of King Solomon. It reads like a fairy story, but,
as in the case of the latter, sometimes facts and historical events are
presented to the world under the colours of fiction. The journey to India
represents in its every stage, though of course allegorically, the trials
of a Neophyte, giving at the same time a geographical and topographical
idea of a certain country as it is even now, if one knows where to look
for it. The long discourses of Apollonius with the Brâhmans, their sage
advice, and the dialogues with the Corinthian Menippus would, if
interpreted, give the Esoteric Catechism. His visit to the empire of the
wise men, his interview with their king Hiarchas, the oracle of
Amphiaraus, explain symbolically many of the secret dogmas of Hermes—in
the generic sense of the name—and of Occultism. Wonderful is this to
relate, and were not the statement supported by numerous calculations
already made, and the secret already half revealed, the writer would never
have dared to say it. The travels of the great Magus are correctly, though
allegorically described—that is to say, all that is related by Damis had
actually taken place—but the narrative is based upon the Zodiacal signs.
As _transliterated_ by Damis under the guidance of Apollonius and
_translated_ by Philostratus, it is a marvel indeed. At the conclusion of
what may now be related of the wonderful Adept of Tyana our meaning will
become clearer. Suffice it to say for the present that the dialogues
spoken of would disclose, if correctly understood, some of the most
important secrets of Nature. Éliphas Lévi points out the great resemblance
which exists between King Hiarchus and the fabulous Hiram, from whom
Solomon procured the cedars of Lebanon and the gold of Ophir. But he keeps
silent as to another resemblance of which, as a learned Kabalist, he could
not be ignorant. Moreover, according to his invariable custom, he
mystifies the reader more than he teaches him, divulging nothing and
leading him off the right track.
Like most of the historical heroes of hoary antiquity, whose lives and
works strongly differ from those of commonplace humanity, Apollonius is to
this day a riddle, which has, so far, found no Œdipus. His existence is
surrounded with such a veil of mystery that he is often mistaken for a
myth. But according to every law of logic and reason, it is quite clear
that Apollonius should never be regarded in such a light. If the Tyanean
Theurgist may be put down as a fabulous character, then history has no
right to her Cæsars and Alexanders. It is quite true that this Sage, who
stands unrivalled in his thaumaturgical powers to this day—on evidence
historically attested—came into the arena of public life no one seems to
know whence, and disappeared from it, no one seems to know whither. But
the reasons for this are evident. Every means was used—especially during
the fourth and fifth centuries of our era—to sweep from people’s minds the
remembrance of this great and holy man. The circulation of his
biographies, which were many and enthusiastic, was prevented by the
Christians, and for a very good reason, as we shall see. The diary of
Damis survived most miraculously, and remained alone to tell the tale. But
it must not be forgotten that Justin Martyr often speaks of Apollonius,
and the character and truthfulness of this good man are unimpeachable, the
more in that he had good reasons to feel bewildered. Nor can it be denied
that there is hardly a Church Father of the first six centuries that left
Apollonius unnoticed. Only, according to invariable Christian customs of
charity, their pens were dipped as usual in the blackest ink of _odium
theologicum_, intolerance and one‐sidedness. St. Jerome (Hieronymus) gives
at length the story of St. John’s alleged contest with the Sage of Tyana—a
competition of “miracles”—in which, of course, the truthful saint(233)
describes in glowing colours the defeat of Apollonius, and seeks
corroboration in St. John’s _Apocrypha_ proclaimed doubtful _even_ by the
Church.(234)
Therefore it is that nobody can say where or when Apollonius was born, and
everyone is equally ignorant of the date at which, and of the place where
he died. Some think he was eighty or ninety years old at the time of his
death, others that he was one hundred or even one hundred and seventeen.
But, whether he ended his days at Ephesus in the year 96 A.D., as some
say, or whether the event took place at Lindus in the temple of Pallas‐
Athene, or whether again he disappeared from the temple of Dictynna, or
whether, as others maintain, he did not die at all, but when a hundred
years old renewed his life by Magic, and went on working for the benefit
of humanity, no one can tell. The Secret Records alone have noted his
birth and subsequent career. But then—“who hath believed in _that_
report?”
All that history knows is that Apollonius was the enthusiastic founder of
a new school of contemplation. Perhaps less metaphorical and more
practical than Jesus, he nevertheless inculcated the same quintessence of
spirituality, the same high moral truths. He is accused of having confined
them to the higher classes of society instead of doing what Buddha and
Jesus did, instead of preaching them to the poor and the afflicted. Of his
reasons for acting in such an exclusive way it is impossible to judge at
so late a date. But Karmic law seems to be mixed up with it. Born, as we
are told, among the aristocracy, it is very likely that he desired to
finish the work undone in this particular direction by his predecessor,
and sought to offer “peace on earth and good will” to _all_ men, and not
alone to the outcast and the criminal. Therefore he associated with the
kings and the mighty ones of the age. Nevertheless, the three “miracle‐
workers” exhibited striking similarity of purpose. Like Jesus and like
Buddha, Apollonius was the uncompromising enemy of all outward show of
piety, all display of useless religious ceremonies, bigotry and hypocrisy.
That his “miracles” were more wonderful, more varied, and far better
attested in History than any others, is also true. Materialism denies; but
evidence, and the affirmations of even the Church herself, however much he
is branded by her, show this to be the fact.(235)
The calumnies set afloat against Apollonius were as numerous as
they were false. So late as eighteen centuries after his death he
was defamed by Bishop Douglas in his work against miracles. In
this the Right Reverend bishop crushed himself against historical
facts. For it is not in the _miracles_, but in the identity of
ideas and doctrines preached that we have to look for a similarity
between Buddha, Jesus and Apollonius. If we study the question
with a dispassionate mind, we shall soon perceive that the ethics
of Gautama, Plato, Apollonius, Jesus, Ammonius Sakkas, and his
disciples, were all based on the same mystic philosophy—that all
worshipped one divine Ideal, whether they considered it as the
“Father” of humanity, who lives in man, as man lives in Him, or as
the Incomprehensible Creative Principle. All led God‐like lives.
Ammonius, speaking of his philosophy, taught that their school
dated from the days of Hermes, who brought his wisdom from India.
It was the same mystical contemplation throughout as that of the
Yogin: the communion of the Brâhman with his own luminous Self—the
“Âtman.”(236)
The groundwork of the Eclectic School is thus shown to be identical with
the doctrines of the Yogîs—the Hindu Mystics; it is proved that it had a
common origin, from the same source as the earlier Buddhism of Gautama and
of his Arhats.
The _Ineffable Name_ in the search for which so many
Kabalists—unacquainted with any Oriental or even European
Adepts—vainly consume their knowledge and lives, dwells latent in
the heart of every man. This mirific name which, according to the
most ancient oracles, “rushes into the infinite worlds,
ἀφοιτήτῳστροφάλιγγι,” can be obtained in a twofold way: by regular
initiation, and through the “small voice” which Elijah heard in
the cave of Horeb, the mount of God. And “when Elijah heard it he
wrapped his _face in his mantle_ and stood in the entering of the
cave. And behold there came _the_ voice.”
When Apollonius of Tyana desired to hear the “small voice,” he
used to wrap himself up entirely in a mantle of fine wool, on
which he placed both his feet, after having performed certain
magnetic passes, and pronounced not the “name” but an invocation
well known to every adept. Then he drew the mantle over his head
and face, and his translucid or astral spirit was free. On
ordinary occasions he no more wore wool than the priests of the
temples. The possession of the secret combination of the “name”
gave the Hierophant supreme power over every being, human or
otherwise, inferior to himself in soul‐strength.(237)
To whatever school he belonged, this fact is certain, that Apollonius of
Tyana left an imperishable name behind him. Hundreds of works were written
upon this wonderful man; historians have seriously discussed him;
pretentious fools, unable to come to any conclusion about the Sage, have
tried to deny his very existence. As to the Church, although she execrates
his memory, she has ever tried to present him in the light of a historical
character. Her policy now seems to be to direct the impression left by him
into another channel—a well known and a very old stratagem. The Jesuits,
for instance, while admitting his “miracles,” have set going a double
current of thought, and they have succeeded, as they succeed in all they
undertake. Apollonius is represented by one party as an obedient “medium
of Satan,” surrounding his theurgical powers by a most wonderful and
dazzling light; while the other party professes to regard the whole matter
as a clever romance, written with a predetermined object in view.
In his voluminous Memoirs of Satan, the Marquis de Mirville, in the course
of his pleading for the recognition of the enemy of God as the producer of
spiritual phenomena, devotes a whole chapter to this great Adept. The
following translation of passages in his book unveils the whole plot. The
reader is asked to bear in mind that the Marquis wrote every one of his
works under the auspices and authorisation of the Holy See of Rome.
It would be to leave the first century incomplete and to offer an
insult to the memory of St. John, to pass over in silence the name
of one who had the honour of being his special antagonist, as
Simon was that of St. Peter, Elymas that of Paul, etc. In the
first years of the Christian era, ... there appeared at Tyana in
Cappadocia one of those extraordinary men of whom the Pythagorean
School was so very lavish. As great a traveller as was his master,
initiated in all the secret doctrines of India, Egypt and Chaldæa,
endowed, therefore, with all the theurgic powers of the ancient
Magi, he bewildered, each in its turn, all the countries which he
visited, and which all—we are obliged to admit—seem to have
blessed his memory. We could not doubt this fact without
repudiating real historical records. The details of his life are
transmitted to us by a historian of the fourth century
(Philostratus), himself the translator of a diary that recorded
day by day the life of the philosopher, written by Damis, his
disciple and intimate friend.(238)
De Mirville admits the possibility of _some_ exaggerations in both
recorder and translator; but he “does not believe they hold a very wide
space in the narrative.” Therefore, he regrets to find the Abbé Freppel
“in his eloquent _Essays_,(239) calling the diary of Damis a romance.”
Why?
[Because] the orator bases his opinion on the perfect similitude,
calculated as he imagines, of that legend with the life of the
Saviour. But in studying the subject more profoundly, he [Abbé
Freppel] can convince himself that neither Apollonius, nor Damis,
nor again Philostratus ever claimed a greater honour than a
likeness to St. John. This programme was in itself sufficiently
fascinating, and the travesty as sufficiently scandalous; for
owing to magic arts Apollonius had succeeded in counterbalancing,
in appearance, several of the miracles at Ephesus [produced by St.
John], etc.(240)
The _anguis in herba_ has shown its head. It is the perfect, the wonderful
similitude of the life of Apollonius with that of the Saviour that places
the Church between Scylla and Charybdis. To deny the life and the
“miracles” of the former, would amount to denying the trustworthiness of
the same Apostles and patristic writers on whose evidence is built the
life of Jesus himself. To father the Adept’s beneficent deeds, his
raisings of the dead, acts of charity, healing powers, etc., on the “old
enemy” would be rather dangerous at this time. Hence the stratagem to
confuse the ideas of those who rely upon authorities and criticisms. The
Church is far more clear‐sighted than any of our great historians. The
Church _knows_ that to deny the existence of that Adept would lead her to
denying the Emperor Vespasian and _his_ Historians, the Emperors Alexander
Severus and Aurelianus and _their_ Historians, and finally to deny Jesus
and every evidence about Him, thus preparing the way to her flock for
finally denying _herself_. It becomes interesting to learn what she says
in this emergency, through her chosen speaker, De Mirville. It is as
follows:
What is there so new and so impossible in the narrative of Damis
concerning their voyages to the countries of the Chaldees and the
Gymnosophists?—he asks. Try to recall, before denying, what were in those
days those countries of marvels _par excellence_, as also the testimony of
such men as Pythagoras, Empedocles and Democritus, who ought to be allowed
to have known what they were writing about. With what have we finally to
reproach Apollonius? Is it for having made, as the Oracles did, a series
of prophecies and predictions wonderfully verified? No: because, better
studied now, we _know_ what they are.(241) The Oracles have now become to
us, what they were to every one during the past century, from Van Dale to
Fontenelle. Is it for having been endowed with second sight, and having
had visions at a distance?(242) No; for such phenomena are at the present
day endemical in half Europe. Is it for having boasted of his knowledge of
every existing language under the sun, without having ever learned one of
them? But who can be ignorant of the fact that this is the best
criterion(243) of the presence and assistance of a spirit of whatever
nature it may be? Or is it for having believed in transmigration
(reincarnation)? It is still believed in (by millions) in our day. No one
has any idea of the number of the men of Science who long for the re‐
establishment of the Druidical Religion and of the Mysteries of
Pythagoras. Or is it for having exorcised the demons and the plague? The
Egyptians, the Etruscans and all the Roman Pontiffs had done so long
before.(244) For having conversed with the dead? We do the same to‐day, or
believe we do so—which is all the same. For having believed in the
Empuses? Where is the Demonologist that does not know that the Empuse is
the “south demon” referred to in David’s _Psalms_, and dreaded then as it
is feared even now in all Northern Europe?(245) For having made himself
invisible at will? It is one of the achievements of mesmerism. For having
appeared after his (supposed) death to the Emperor Aurelian above the city
walls of Tyana, and for having compelled him thereby to raise the siege of
that town? Such was the mission of every hero beyond the tomb, and the
reason of the worship vowed to the Manes.(246) For having descended into
the famous den of Trophonius, and taken from it an old book preserved for
years after by the Emperor Adrian in his Antium library? The trustworthy
and sober Pausanias had descended into the same den before Apollonius, and
came back no less a believer. For having disappeared at his death? Yes,
like Romulus, like Votan, like Lycurgus, like Pythagoras,(247) always
under the most mysterious circumstances, ever attended by apparitions,
revelations, etc. Let us stop here and repeat once more: had the life of
Apollonius been simple _romance_, he would never have attained such a
celebrity during his lifetime or created such a numerous sect, one so
enthusiastic after his death.
And, to add to this, had all this been a romance, never would a Caracalla
have raised a heroön to his memory(248) or Alexander, Severus have placed
his bust between those of two Demi‐Gods and of the true God,(249) or an
Empress have corresponded with him. Hardly rested from the hardships of
the siege at Jerusalem, Titus would not have hastened to write to
Apollonius a letter, asking to meet him at Argos and adding that his
father and himself (Titus) owed all to him, the great Apollonius, and
that, therefore, his first thought was for their benefactor. Nor would the
Emperor Aurelian have built a temple and a shrine to that great Sage, to
thank him for his apparition and communication at Tyana. That _posthumous_
conversation, as all knew, saved the city, inasmuch as Aurelian had in
consequence raised the siege. Furthermore, had it been a romance, History
would not have had Vopiscus,(250) one of the most trustworthy Pagan
Historians, to certify to it. Finally, Apollonius would not have been the
object of the admiration of such a noble character as Epictetus, and even
of several of the Fathers of the Church; Jerome for instance, in his
better moments, writing thus of Apollonius:
This travelling philosopher found something to learn wherever he
went; and profiting everywhere thus improved with every day.(251)
As to his prodigies, without wishing to fathom them, Jerome most
undeniably admits them as such; which he would assuredly never have done,
had he not been compelled to do so by facts. To end the subject, had
Apollonius been a simple hero of a romance, dramatised in the fourth
century, the Ephesians would not, in their enthusiastic gratitude, have
raised to him a golden statue for all the benefits he had conferred upon
them.(252)