In a polytheistic world there is no logical limit to the possible

number of gods; so that the chance always existed that there were

deities whom a given community had not yet discovered at any given

moment. There is, in such a world, a logical necessity that anarchy

should be absent from heaven. Hence each community had to rank its gods

and goddesses according to their power and spheres of activity. The

lowest god, demigod or hero was, accordingly, separated from mankind by

no deep or broad chasm. With most of their deities, in fact, the Greeks

were on terms of familiar intimacy, as were mediæval Christians with

their saints. Various of the lesser gods, Theseus and Heracles among

the ancestors of Alexander for example, had once been men who had been

elevated to Olympus by the grace of Zeus because of the many services

which they had rendered to men. It is true that they were the children

of Zeus; but had not Zeus also claimed Alexander as his own son? Why,

then, should not he too be deified?

The difficulty from the standpoint of religion--of the sentiment which

had led in the past to the heroizing of men--was that he was still

living. And this was an insurmountable difficulty. From the religious

conceptions of the Greeks the worship of the living ruler could never

be derived; and, in fact, it was by pious people and for theological

reasons that the rendering of divine honors to Alexander was opposed in

Athens and elsewhere.[72] The most that could be expected from men of

religious convictions was a sullen acquiescence in something which they

could not prevent.

The apotheosis of Alexander was grounded in impiety, in disbelief in

the supernatural altogether. For the age in which he lived was marked

by this very thing. In that time of storm and stress the ancient Greek

religion became bankrupt. For enlightened people--and their name was

then legion--the gods had ceased to have objective reality. Like the

spirits of the departed whom Ulysses had recalled to consciousness by

giving them blood to drink, they were dependent for their existence

upon the kindliness of men. Without the ministrations of the living

they would not merely be forgotten; they would be annihilated. It was

the gratitude of mankind which had kept the memory of benefactors

green by rites deemed and called religious. Once, to be sure, the

deities had been real beings, but that was before they had died, while

they were living upon the earth as men. Then they had performed great

services--had founded cities, conquered worlds, established laws,

invented arts, developed grains and fruits, and trained animals.

So at least many men of talent and learning already taught. But it

remained for Euhemerus of Messene, about fifty years later (_ca._ 280

B.C.), to give the idea classic expression in an entertaining work

of popularization.[73] With all the circumstantiality of Defoe, he

tells how, in the course of his voyaging, he was driven southward into

the Indian Ocean from Araby the Blest, till he came to the island of

Panchæa. There he found a model community whose social and political

organization he described in the manner familiar to us from Plato's

_Republic_. There, too, he made a remarkable discovery--an account

written on golden tablets in "reformed Egyptian" by Hermes of the lives

and achievements of Chronus, Zeus, and all the other gods and goddesses

of the Greek hierarchy. They had been kings and notables of Panchæa,

and some of them, like Zeus and Dionysus, had been world conquerors.

Others, indeed, had earned the favorable verdict of posterity by very

questionable acts. Aphrodite was the first prostitute, and Cadmus, the

grandfather of Dionysus, was the cook of a king in Sidon and had run

away with a flute girl named Harmonia.

This "sacred writ" was naturally the latest and most authoritative

revelation. It was saved, moreover, from being a gospel of atheism

because, as Cumont[74] says, "It left to the eternal and incorruptible

stars ... the dignity of original gods and exalted them in proportion

as it lowered their rivals of bygone days." The signal merit of Chronus

had been to introduce the worship of the heavenly bodies in Panchæa.

In this respect the _Scriptures_ of Euhemerus accorded with a strong

current of both earlier and contemporary religious thought. Most men

at that time recognized supernatural powers of a certain sort, like

Tyche, "Chance,"--the favorite deity of the Hellenistic world,--whose

play in human affairs modern disbelievers in religion also would be the

last to deny. But they declined to recognize as efficacious the gods

and goddesses in whose honor the cities maintained temples, priests,

sacrifices, and games, except when they had lived on the earth as men

and women.

At the best, therefore, these deities were simply prototypes of

Alexander, who had founded seventy cities and given them their

constitutions and laws, who had conquered all the territory which

Dionysus had once overrun, and who was planning to build a highway

along the coast of North Africa to the pillars set by Heracles at the

limits of the world; who, moreover, was moulding the masses of Europe

and Asia into a new race, and upheld, as no god had ever done, the

social and political framework of the world.

Religion was unable to elevate a living man to godhood. Even in Egypt

the sacred animals were but sacred animals till seventy days after

their death, when they became deities. But irreligion, having degraded

all gods to the level of human beings, had no reason to withhold from

great men the homage which it accorded to the great dead.

The fundamental document on the deification of Greek kings comes

to us stamped with the seal of the Athenian state. It was sung by

the multitude at the official reception of its sovereign, the young

Macedonian king, Demetrius Poliorcetes, on his return to Athens in

290 B.C.[75] "The king comes, light-hearted as befits a god, fair and

laughing, yet majestic withal in his circle of courtiers, he the sun,

they the stars: hail! child of mighty Poseidon and of Aphrodite. The

other gods are a long way off, or have no ears, or no existence, or

take no care of us, but thee we see face to face--a true god, not one

of wood and stone." This catchy bit of blasphemy makes it impossible

for any reasonable doubt to linger as to the regions of thought from

which the worship of Greek rulers sprang.

But why should men who regarded the gods they already had as useless

burden the state with the cult of another whose power was only too

real? Why abandon King Log for a possible King Stork? It is on this

point chiefly that scholars disagree to-day. There are those who

make the apotheosis of Alexander a tribute paid by the Greeks to

transcendant genius, a result of the reverence-compelling personality

of the man. I confess, however, that enthusiastic admiration such as

this presupposes does not seem to me to harmonize with the contemptuous

expressions which marked the establishment of his cult in certain

places in Greece.[76] In Sparta, Damis moved, in regard to Alexander's

message that he be decreed a god, that the Spartans "let him be

called a god if he wishes it"; while in Athens Demosthenes advised his

fellow-citizens "to acknowledge the king as the son of Zeus, or, for

all he cared, as the son of Poseidon, if such was his pleasure." In

other places, however, the recognition seems to have been spontaneous

enough, and to have been an expression of real gratitude for services

rendered or expected. But Greeks on earlier occasions, and other

peoples as well, were equally grateful and no less servile without

deifying the object of those sentiments. Why then did admiration,

gratitude, or servility take this form in this particular instance?

It is true that deification was _demanded_ of the Greek cities by

Alexander, and that it was in response to a mandate sent out by him

from Susa in 324 B.C. that "sacred ambassadors," such as were sent to

gods and not to kings or states, arrived at Babylon in the spring of

323 B.C. a few weeks before Alexander's death, bearing the decrees in

which his request was granted. But for the following fifty years it

was at the initiative of the Greek cities, and, at times, against the

will and interest of the recipient, that such honors were conferred

upon later rulers. Hence we may be certain that in the first instance

deification was an accommodation both to Alexander and to the cities in

his realm. Nor can we, I think, be in serious doubt as to the character

of the service it rendered.

It gave a legal position to Alexander in the world of city-states which

he was organizing. It was unjust, Aristotle had taught him, that a

man of supreme political capacity--such as he had displayed--should

be treated as worthy of mere equality in the cities of his realm. Yet

he could be treated in no other fashion if he were to be a citizen

of them. On the other hand, now that he had freed himself from the

constitutional limitations placed upon the earlier kings of Macedon and

from the treaties which he had formed with the Hellenic cities at the

opening of his reign, he ran the risk of being put to death or outlawed

or ostracized, if he were not, as Aristotle suggested, rated as a deity

upon the earth.

From his point of view, his rule was legitimatized when he was enrolled

among the deities recognized by each city; for thereafter he had a

clear right to issue orders to all the citizens of his world. From

their point of view, on the other hand, by deifying Alexander they

escaped from the intolerable necessity of obeying the commands of a

foreigner. They thereby gave their consent to be ruled by him. They

subordinated their will to his.

The deification of rulers was, accordingly, simply the proskynesis of

cities. Its consequences were an absolutism such as Europe--and for

that matter Asia--had never known before and has never ceased to know

since. And it is this melancholy consequence of apotheosis which has

only too frequently obscured its signal service: that it made possible

the lasting union of all the city-states of the world in a single great

territorial state.

SELECT BIBLIOGRAPHY

1. Hogarth, D. _The Deification of Alexander the Great._ In _English

Historical Review_, II (1887), pp. 317 _ff._

2. Niese, B. _Zur Würdigung Alexander's des Grossen._ In _Historische

Zeitschrift_, LXXIX (1897), pp. 1 _ff._

3. Wheeler, B.I. _Alexander the Great_, (1900).

4. Bevan, E. _The Deification of Kings in the Greek Cities._ In

_English Historical Review_, XVI (1901), pp. 625 _ff._

5. Meyer, Eduard. _Alexander der Grosse und die absolute Monarchie._

In _Kleine Schriften_ (1910), pp. 283 _ff._

6. Kärst, J. _Der hellenistische Herrscherkult._ Beilage 2 in

_Geschichte des hellenistischen Zeitalters_, II, 1 (1909), pp. 374

_ff._

7. Ferguson, W.S. _Legalized Absolutism en route from Greece to Rome._

In _American Historical Review_, XVIII (1912), pp. 29 _ff._

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 58: Arrian, _Anabasis_, VII, 9, 2 _ff._]

[Footnote 59: _De Cor._ 67.]

[Footnote 60: Müller, F.H.G., I, _Frg._ 27.]

[Footnote 61: _Politics_, III, 11 (17), 12, p. 1288 _a_.]

[Footnote 62: _Politics_, III, 8 (13), 1, p. 1284 _a_.]

[Footnote 63: _Politics_, I, 1 (2), 9, p. 1253 _a_.]

[Footnote 64: Aulus Gellius, _Noctes Atticæ_, IX.]

[Footnote 65: Johnston, R.M., _The Corsican_, p. 498.]

[Footnote 66: See above, page 28, and below, page 243.]

[Footnote 67: Plut., _Alex._ 54.]

[Footnote 68: _Kleine Schriften_, pp. 314 _ff._]

[Footnote 69: VII, 4, 4 _ff._]

[Footnote 70: Athenaeus, XII, pp. 538 _ff._ (Translated by Wheeler in

his _Alexander the Great_, pp. 477 _f._)]

[Footnote 71: VII, 4, 7 _f._]

[Footnote 72: In Macedon, by the regent Αντιτροϛ ἁσεβἑϛ τοὑτο κριναϛ

(Suidas).]

[Footnote 73: Pauly-Wissowa, _Real-encyclopädie_, VI, 1, pp. 952 _ff._;

Wendland, _Die Hellenistisch-römische Kultur_ (1907), pp. 67 _ff._]

[Footnote 74: _Astrology and Religion among the Greeks and Romans_

(1912), p. 55.]

[Footnote 75: Ferguson, _Hellenistic Athens_, p. 143.]

[Footnote 76: Meyer, Ed., _Kleine Schriften_, p. 330, n. 2.]

V

THE EMPIRE OF THE PTOLEMIES

The death of Alexander the Great was followed by some days of

indescribable confusion. When a certain semblance of order was restored

the view was officially promulgated that he had not died at all,

but had simply "departed from the life among men." His memory was,

accordingly, not damned; and, in a sense, his presence in the world

which he had transformed continued to be recognized. But not in any

real sense. The imperial coins, wherever issued, bore for some time the

great king's face as Zeus Ammon; but no imperial cult existed to bring

steadily to men's consciousness the idea that their dead lord had an

honored place among the Olympians. It was not by the will of those who

succeeded to his power, but by the force of historic developments, that

his _acta_ were validated.

His heirs were the Macedonians whom he had recently tried to oust

from their ancestral partnership with him. They were now to be found,

partly in Macedon, partly in detachments throughout the empire, and

partly in Babylon where Alexander had died. Those in Babylon took it

upon themselves to act for the whole people; and what they did was

to establish a regency in the interest of Philip Arrhidæus and the

son whom Roxane was expected to bear, and to concur in the "grab" of

the important western satrapies which was at once made by their chief

officers.

It was they, too, who decided not to proceed with Alexander's ambitious

projects. These, as read to them from his papers,[77] were "to build

in Phoenicia, Syria, Cilicia, and Cyprus one thousand battleships of

the super-trireme pattern for the campaign against the Carthaginians

and the other peoples dwelling on the shores of the Mediterranean from

Libya and Iberia clear round to Sicily; to construct a road along the

coast from Cyrene to the Pillars of Hercules, and prepare harbors and

naval stations at suitable places; to erect six temples at the enormous

cost of $1,890,000 each (fifteen hundred talents); to found cities and

transplant men and women both from Asia into Europe and from Europe

into Asia, thus linking the two greatest continents by understandings

based upon friendly intercourse and by brotherly feeling due to

intermarriages." Alexander, it appeared, had looked upon his work as

only half done: the Macedonians were eager to enjoy the fruits of an

enterprise which they regarded as already finished.

Their sentiment was shared by Ptolemy, son of Lagos, formerly one of

Alexander's aides. He had married a Persian princess at Alexander's

order, but now he deserted her, and, taking his Athenian mistress,

Thais, with him, he went off to Egypt, which had been given to him

as his province. There he established himself securely, governed

with power and sagacity for forty years, and, marrying in succession

two Macedonian princesses, founded a dynasty which gave to Egypt

its last great queen, Cleopatra VI, and prior to her accession, ten

kings,[78] all of whom were named Ptolemy. Between them they reigned

two hundred and seventy-one years; the average length of the reign was

over thirty-two years; several of them were expelled temporarily and

several of them had colleagues, but nine of them died in possession of

the throne. That constitutes a statistical record which it is hard to

parallel in all history.

It would be a fascinating study of human enterprise and human depravity

to trace the careers of these eleven monarchs. But to do so would be to

exhaust the space at my disposal without reaching the special subject

of my essay. It must suffice, therefore, to observe that the history

of the Ptolemies falls into an imperial period of four reigns and

one hundred and twenty years (323-203 B.C.); and a domestic period,

likewise of one hundred and twenty years (200-80 B.C.), in which the

native peoples, encouraged by the weakness of the Ptolemies abroad, and

by a ruinous schism between the military and the civil elements of the

foreign-resident population, gained point after point at the expense

of the dynasty. A third period follows of fifty years' duration, in

which Egypt was at the mercy, not now of the Roman Senate, but of the

all-powerful generals who had dethroned it.

The last king of Egypt, Ptolemy the Piper, a bastard by birth and

instinct, demeaned himself for twenty-eight years (80-52 B.C.); but

by bankrupting his treasury and sacrificing the good opinion of his

countrymen, he managed to transmit a badly tarnished crown to his

famous daughter, then a girl of seventeen years.

Cleopatra VI had an asset of much greater value than the servility and

buffoonery of her father, namely, her personal attractiveness. She

early lost all repugnance against using her physical charms, as well

as her even more notable mental graces, in what, with all our dislike

for the imperial courtesan, we must characterize as her gallant and

patriotic effort to rescue her country from the spoiler, to make the

queen of Egypt the consort instead of the slave of the coming Roman

monarch, to set proud Alexandria beside imperious Rome at the head of

the Mediterranean peoples.

She gave herself to Julius Cæsar; bore him a son; left her kingdom and

joined him in Rome, where Cicero and others paid her court in Cæsar's

gardens, wondering, perhaps, if she was to become their titular queen.

In contemporary documents Cæsar is called "the savior and benefactor

of the inhabitable world"; and during the last year of his life he was

busied with projects of universal empire. He meant to add the districts

not yet Roman to his realm, to subdue the Getæ, the Scythians, and

the Parthians. Why was not Egypt, the richest prize of all, included

in the list of his intended conquests? It was the country which he had

tried over twenty years earlier to secure as his own province. But that

was before he had met Cleopatra. That he left it out of the military

programme on which he was engaged at the time of his murder shows, I

think, that Cleopatra's solution of the Egyptian question was likely to

be his also.

Ten years later Alexandria witnessed an extraordinary spectacle.[79]

On a stage plated with silver two thrones of gold stood, and on them

sat side by side Antony as Dionysus and Cleopatra as Isis. At their

feet sat Cæsarion, Cleopatra's son by Cæsar, and on a level with him

Alexander, her oldest son by Antony, in Persian costume and with the

tiara of the Persian kings. Lower down sat Alexander's twin sister,

Cleopatra Selene, and at her side her younger brother, Philadelphus, in

Macedonian costume and with the headgear of the kings of Macedon. The

significance of the tableau Antony himself explained: Cleopatra, queen

of Egypt, Cyprus, and Coele-Syria, was henceforth 'queen of queens';

her son, Cæsarion, 'king of kings.' Alexander was declared king of

Armenia and of the states lying between the Euphrates and India,

Philadelphus, of Syria and all the lands between the Euphrates and the

Hellespont, Cleopatra Selene, queen of Libya including Cyrene. It was

the restoration of the ancient empire of the Ptolemies, and in Antony

"captured Italy" was symbolized. The Alexandrian siren had regained

what her ancestors had lost; and, had the Roman whom she had enthralled

only proved equal to the task of maintaining his initial ascendency in

Italy, she might, indeed, have fulfilled her boast and administered

justice on the Capitol. But Antony went down to defeat at Actium and

the young Augustus came to Egypt, like the comrades of Ulysses to the

shore of the tempters, with his ears stuffed with wax.

Pascal[80] says: _Le nez de Cléopâtre: s'il eût été plus court, toute

la face de la terre aurait changé._ But Pascal speaks as a philosopher.

He probably did not know that Cleopatra had a prominent nose. He was

certainly ignorant that her death made little or no difference in the

constitutional position of Egypt. In a sense Augustus was simply the

executor of the great queen's policy; for, after his reorganization of

the Roman empire was completed, "it is," as Mommsen[81] says, "quite as

correct to say that the kings of Egypt ruled in Rome as that the prince

of the Roman people reigned in the valley of the Nile." Be that as it

may, the empire of the Ptolemies could not have been recalled from the

past even by the magic of a woman's beauty; for, as we shall see when

we come to look at the second period of its history, the death it had

died was a natural one. It had but experienced the fate to which its

constitution made it prone. It was beset from its birth with incurable

weaknesses.

None the less it made a brave show during the first century of its

existence; and during the reign of its second monarch, Ptolemy

Philadelphus (285-246 B.C.), its capital, Alexandria, was the London

of the ancient world. Its only rival in trade and commerce was its

neighbor to the west, Carthage. The golden age of the Ptolemies

coincides with the one epoch in the history of the world in which

Africa was the leader in business enterprise, in money power, in

naval strength, in luxury, in science, and, till the real test came,

in political prestige and influence. The commercial aristocracy

of Carthage and the enlightened despots of Alexandria had the

Mediterranean divided between them. West of Sicily lay a Carthaginian

lake, into which foreign ships entered at their own peril; east of it,

the chief harbors in the whole circuit from Cyrene to Corcyra, as well

as the islands which lay in the area thus inclosed, the Ptolemies aimed

to secure. Possession of the sea between Egypt and the Græco-Macedonian

world and of the coasts which it washed and the islands which it

surrounded, was the main object of the foreign policy of the early

Ptolemies.

The founder of the dynasty was a brave soldier, but a cautious

general. Again and again he withdrew from Asia before a land attack

and put his main reliance upon the natural defenses of Egypt. He was

no sailor at all; yet he became an admiral, and as the result of three

great maritime expeditions (308-306, 295-294, 288-287 B.C.), he handed

over to his unwarlike son the essential body of the possessions of the

family outside of Egypt. The founder of the dynasty was at the same

time the founder of the empire.

The Solomon of the Ptolemies, Philadelphus, is addressed by

Theocritus,[82] a Sicilian poet who had recently come to Alexandria

looking for a patron, in the following adulatory strains:--

"Lo he hath seen three hundred towns arise,

Three thousand, yea three myriad; and o'er all

He rules, the prince of heroes, Ptolemy.

Claims half Phoenicia, and half Araby,

Syria and Libya, and the Æthiops murk;

Sways the Pamphylian and Cilician braves,

The Lycian and the Carian trained to war,

And all the isles; for never fleet like his

Rode upon ocean: land and sea alike

And sounding rivers hail King Ptolemy."

The hero of these lines had just brought a war against his brother in

Cyrene and his rival in Asia to a successful termination (273 B.C.);

and, except for a probable interval of four years (253-249 B.C.), the

invincible fleet which he then possessed ruled the sea till his death.

But he was anything but a warrior king. During his whole life he never

commanded an army or a fleet in person. Like Augustus Cæsar, with whom

he has been compared, he had a delicate constitution which unfitted him

for the rough and tumble of war. He had a lively intelligence, which

was carefully cultivated, and, like the Emperor Hadrian, an insatiable

thirst for novelties. A new book, an old painting, a strange animal, a

useful invention, alike aroused his curiosity. One amazing woman--his

own sister--swept him from his self-indulgent moorings. She made

herself his wife--as any Egyptian woman might do with her brother--and,

though she was his queen for six years at most (275-270 B.C.), when

she was over forty and he over thirty-two, he followed her policy and

cherished her memory for many long years.

That her _acta_ might not be invalid he had her deified after her

death, and that he might still be her consort, he had himself elevated

at the same time to her side as the first self-constituted god-king

since Alexander.

Greek Imperialism · 第 9 / 16 段