CHAPTER III.

THE SECOND PERIOD, 900-500 B.C.

{56}

We can now pursue the enquiry nearer the borderline of the historic

period, as it is conventionally termed.

_Introduction of worship of Dionysos_.--As early as the tenth century

B.C., and probably earlier, a new religion with a new and imposing

divinity was intruding itself into Hellenic lands from Thrace and

Macedonia.[56.1] Dionysos and the Thracian ritual-legend of Lykourgos

are known to Homer; but the poems suggest that he was not yet

definitely received into the Hellenic pantheon. Yet there are reasons

for believing that Bœotia had received the alien worship in the

‘Minyan’ epoch, before the incoming of the ‘Boiotoi’; and Attica

before the Ionic emigration; while in the Peloponnese the Argive

legend associates the advent of the god with the names of Perseus and

the Prœtid dynasty. In spite of local opposition and its natural

antagonism to the nascent spirit of Hellenism, which was now tending

to express itself in certain definite and orderly forms of mood,

thought and feeling, the new religion won its way victoriously, taking

Thebes for its Hellenic metropolis, and some time afterwards securing

its position at Delphi, where the priesthood and the Apolline oracle

become its eager champions. {57} It was distinguished from the

traditional Hellenic in regard to its idea of divine personality, its

ritual and its psychic influence, that is to say, the mood that it

evoked in the votary. In the first place, the figure of Dionysos

belonged indeed to personal theism, certainly in Hellenic cult and

probably in the Thracian; but he was less sharply defined as a

concrete individual than was, for instance, Apollo or Athena; he was

vaguer in outline, a changeful power conceived more in accordance with

daimonistic, later with pantheistic thought, incarnate in many

animal-shapes and operative in the life-processes of the vegetative

world; and an atmosphere of nature-magic accompanied him.

The central motives of his oldest form of ritual were the birth and

death of the God, a conception pregnant of ideas that were to develop

in the religious future, but alien to the ordinary Hellenic theology,

though probably not unfamiliar to the earlier Cretan-Mycenæan creed.

But the death of this God was partly a fact of ritual; he was torn to

pieces by his mad worshippers and devoured sacramentally, for the bull

or the goat or the boy whom they rent and devoured was supposed to be

his temporary incarnation, so that by this savage and at times

cannibalistic communion they were filled with his blood and his spirit

and acquired miraculous powers. By such an act and--we may suppose--by

the occasional use of intoxicants and other nervous stimulants the

psychic condition that this worship evoked was frenzy and ecstasy,

which might show itself in wild outburst of mental and physical force,

and the enthusiastic feeling of self-abandonment in which the

worshipper escaped the limits of his own {58} nature and achieved a

temporary sense of identity with the God; and such union with divinity

might avail him even after death. This privilege of ecstasy might be

used for the practical purposes of vegetation-magic, yet was desired

and proclaimed for its own sake, as a more intense mood of life. This

religion preached no morality and could ill adapt itself to civic

life; its ideal was supranormal psychic energy. The process whereby it

was half captured and half tamed by the young Hellenic spirit forms

one of the most interesting chapters in Hellenism.

It is convenient for the purposes of religious study to mark off the

period between the ninth and the sixth centuries as the second period

of Greek religion, in which we can observe the working of new forces

and the development of older germs into new life. By the beginning of

this period the fusion of the Northerners and the Mediterranean

population was mainly complete, and the Hellenic spirit had acquired

its definite instincts and bias. The ninth and the eighth centuries

witnessed the diffusion of epic literature, the rise of lyric poetry,

the emergence of the ‘eikon’ or idol in religious art, and generally

the development of cities and civic life; and it is essential to

estimate the religious influence of these forces.

_Influence of epic and lyric poetry_.--That the contribution of

Homeric and of the later Hesiodic literature to the shaping and fixing

of Hellenic religion was most fruitful and effective cannot be

doubted. Only we must not accept the exaggerating view of

Herodotus[58.1] that these two poets were really {59} the founders of

the anthropomorphic religion, creating the orthodox Hellenic theogony

and determining the names and functions and shapes of the special

divinities. By such a statement some scholars have been misled into

regarding the Homeric poems as a kind of Greek Bible, which in respect

to religious matters it might be heresy to disbelieve. But we know

that local temple-legend and local folklore could always maintain its

independence of Homeric, or Hesiodic authority, in respect to the

titles of the Gods, their relationships and genealogies. Artemis was

not everywhere reputed to have the same parentage or Zeus the same

spouse. The early epic poets gathered many of the ἱεροὶ λόγοι of

shrines, but there was much that they did not gather and which yet

survived. There was a noticeable particularism in Greek theology, and

no orthodoxy and no heterodoxy in the sense that it was moral to

believe or immoral to disbelieve any sacred book.

The chief religious achievement of Homer and his fellows was to

intensify the anthropomorphic trend in Greek religion, to sharpen and

individualise the concepts of divinity, and to diffuse throughout the

Hellenic world a certain uniformity of religious imagination. To their

work partly, as well as to the higher synthetic power of the Greek

mind, we may ascribe the fact that in spite of local varieties of myth

and cult-title, in spite of the various elements that the divine

personality may have absorbed from earlier cult-figures and cult-forms

in the various cult-centres, yet the sense of the individual unity of

person was not lost so long as the same name was in vogue; hence

Apollo Lykeios of Argos could not be a {60} different person from the

Apollo Patroös of Athens, nor could hostility arise between them.

That is to say, the higher religious literature imprinted a certain

precision and definiteness upon the personal names of the leading

divinities and endowed them with a certain essential connotation; for

example, the dogma of the virginity of Athena and Artemis, always

presented in the higher poetry, prevailed so far as to suppress the

maternal character that may have attached to them in the prehistoric

period and of which we can still discern a glimmering in certain local

cults.[60.1] And to this task of shaping the divine characters the

rising lyric poetry, which was growing up with the decay of the epic,

and which in obedience to the Hellenic passion for disciplined form

was developing fixed types of song and music appropriate to special

festivals and worships, must have contributed much. The ‘spondaic’

metre was adapted to the invocation or hymn sung at the libation--the

σπονδή--to Zeus, and the solemn gravity of the spondaic fragment

attributed to Terpander fittingly expresses the majesty of the high

God, “the primal cause of all things, the Leader of the world.”[60.2]

The pæan and the ‘nomos’ became instinct with the Apolline, the

Dithyrambos with the Dionysiac spirit,[60.3] the spirit of order and

self-restraint on the one hand, the spirit of ecstasy and passion on

the other. The earlier Greek lyric was in fact mainly religious, being

composed for public or private occasions of worship; its vogue was

therefore wide and in some communities, as in Arcadia, the singing

{61} of these compositions formed part of the national training of the

young.[61.1]

_Idolatry_.--Another phenomenon of importance at the beginning of this

second period is the rise of idolatry, the prevalence of the use of

the ‘eikon’ in actual worship in place of the older aniconic ‘agalma,’

which had sufficed for the Minoan and the Homeric world as a token of

the divine presence or as a magnet attracting it to the worshipper.

This important change in the object of cult may have been beginning in

the tenth century, for we have one indication of it in the Homeric

poems, and recently on one of a series of vases of the early geometric

style found in a grave near Knossos of the post-Minoan period the

figures of an armed God and Goddess are depicted on low bases,

evidently idols, and perhaps the earliest surviving of any Hellenic

divinity.[61.2] Henceforth, although the old fetich-object, the

aniconic ‘agalma,’ lingered long in certain shrines and holy places,

the impulse towards idolatry became imperious and almost universal,

exercising a mighty influence on the religious sentiment of the

Hellenes both before and after the triumph of Christianity. The

worship before the idol intensified the already powerful

anthropomorphic instinct of the polytheism; and was at once a source

of strength and a cause of narrowness. It brought to the people a

strong conviction of the real presence of the concrete and individual

divinity; and, as it gave its mandate to the greatest art of the

world, it evolved the ideal of divinity as the ideal of humanity,

expressible in forms of beauty, strength, and majesty. On the other

hand, it was a force {62} working against the development of a more

mystic, more immaterial religion, or of a consciousness of Godhead as

an all-pervading spirit, such as might arise out of the vaguer

religious perception of those half-personal ‘daimones’ or ‘numina,’

which never wholly faded from the popular creed.

_Progress of anthropomorphism_.--It is interesting to mark within this

second period the various effects of the now regnant anthropomorphism.

Those functional ‘daimones’ mentioned above tend to leave the

amorphous twilight of religious perception, in which the Roman

‘Indigitamenta’ remained, and to be attracted into the stronger life

of personal theism. ‘Kourotrophos,’ once perhaps only a vague

functional power that nurtured children, becomes identified with

Artemis or Ge;[62.1] ‘Χλόη,’ ‘Divine verdure,’ when the cult was

introduced from the Marathonian Tetrapolis to the Akropolis of

Athens--if this indeed is a true account of its career, could only

maintain herself as Demeter Χλόη.[62.2]

Again the name Ἥρως comes to be applied to even the most shadowy of

these functional powers, to Μυίαγρος, the Fly-chaser, the most limited

and momentary of them all, to Eunostos, the daimon of good harvest,

about whom a very human tale is told, and to call them ‘Heroes’

implies that they were imagined as semi-divine men who once lived on

the earth. Even the most immaterial forces, some of those which mark

mental phases or social conditions, such as Ἐρως Love, Φιλία

Friendship, Εἰρήνη Peace, became often for the religious imagination

personal individuals with human relationships;[62.3] thus Eirene {63}

emerges almost as a real goddess with the traits of Demeter, Φιλία on

a relief in the Jacobsen Collection is individualised as the mother of

Zeus Philios, in defiance of the traditional theogony.[63.1] Others

such as ‘Αἰδώς’ ‘Compassion’ remained in the borderland between

animating forces and personal deities.

But we observe in many cases that the name itself was an obstacle to

the emergence of a convincingly personal God or Goddess; and where

this is the case the personality never could play a leading part in

the advanced religion. Thus Ἑστία bore a name that denoted nothing

more than ‘the Hearth,’ considered as animate and holy; Greek

anthropomorphism did its utmost for her, but never or rarely succeeded

in establishing her as a fully formed personal goddess. The same

phenomenon is observable in regard to Ge, Helios and Selene; it was

easy to regard them as animate substances or powers and as such to

worship them; such worship they received throughout all periods of

Greek religion, but no direction of the moral, social and spiritual

progress of the race, for their names connoted so obviously substances

unlike and alien to man that they could not with conviction be

imagined as glorified men or women.[63.2] It was otherwise with such

names as Apollo, Hera, Athena, which could become as real and

individual as Miltiades or Themistokles; and it is these humanised

personalities that alone dominate the higher religion of Greece. The

spiritual career of Demeter only began when men forgot the original

meaning of her name and half forgot that she was {64} only Mother

Earth. The ‘Anemoi’ being mere ‘Winds,’ were scarcely fitted for civic

life; but Boreas, having a personal name, could become a citizen and

was actually worshipped as Πολίτης ‘the Citizen’ at Thourioi.[64.1] A

curious and unscientific distinction that Aristophanes makes between

the religions of the Hellenes and the Barbarians[64.2] has its

justification from this point of view.

_Influence of the Polis on religion_.--The spirit of the Polis, the

dominant influence in Greek religion throughout this second period,

worked in the same direction as the anthropomorphic instinct; giving

complexity, varied individuality and an ever-growing social value to

the idea of Godhead. The deities of the wild enter the ring-wall of

the city and shed much of their wild character. Apollo Lykeios the

Wolf-God, enters Argos and becomes the political leader of the State,

in whose temple a perpetual fire was maintained, symbol of the

perpetual life of the community.[64.3] And the advanced civic

imagination tended to transform the primitive theriolatry or

theriomorphic ideas that still survived. Proofs of direct animal

worship in the later period are very rare and generally doubtful; for

the ancient writers apply the term ‘worship’ carelessly, applying it

to any trivial act of reverential treatment.[64.4] In the few cases

where we can still discern the animal receiving cult, we find the

anomaly explained away by some association established between the

animal and the anthropomorphic deity or hero. Thus the wolf became no

longer sacred in {65} its own right--if indeed it ever was--but might

be reverenced here and there as the occasional incarnation of Apollo

or as his guide or companion.

The primitive population of the Troad may once have ‘worshipped’ the

field-mouse, though the authority that attests it is a late and

doubtful one; but when Apollo becomes in this region the civic

guardian of the Æolians and the protector of their crops, he takes a

title from the mouse (Σμινθεύς from σμινθός), and the mouse is carved

at the side of the anthropomorphic image as a propitiatory hint to the

rest of the species not to injure the corn, or as a hint to the God

that mice needed regulating.[65.1]

The serpent worshipped in the cavern, or in some hole or corner of the

house--vaguely, in ‘Aryan’ times, as the Earth-daimon or

House-genius--became interpreted as the embodiment of the ancestor

Erechtheus of Athens, or Kuchreus of Salamis, or Zeus Κτήσιος, the

guardian of the household possessions, or of Zeus Meilichios, the

nether God. When the very human Asklepios came to Athens towards the

end of the fifth century, he brought with him certain dogs who were

ministers of healing; and the Athenians offered sacrificial cakes both

to the God and to his dogs who partook of his sanctity.[65.2] This

may appear a strange imbecility; but at all events we discern in these

facts the prevalent anthropomorphism dominating and transforming what

it could not abolish of the old theriolatry; just as we see the

coin-artist of Phigaleia transforming the uncouth type of the

horse-headed Demeter into a beautiful human form of a goddess {66}

wearing a necklace with a horse-hoof as its pendant. The sacred animal

never wholly died out of Hellas; but it could only maintain its

worship by entering the service of the human gods.

The expansion of the civic system in this second period, due to

extended colonisation and commerce, induced a development of law and

an expansion of moral and religious ideas. One of the most vital

results of the institution of the Polis was the widening of the idea

of kinship. For in theory the city was a congregation of kinsmen, a

combination of tribes, phratries, and families, wider or narrower

associations framed on a kin-basis; and it gradually evolved the

belief, pregnant of legal and moral developments, that every citizen

was of kin to every other.

In consonance with the conception of the State as an extended family,

we find certain ancient family-cults taken over into the religion of

the Polis. As the private family was knit together by the worship of

the Hearth in the hall and of Zeus Ἑρκεῖος, ‘the God of the Garth,’ in

the courtyard of the house, so the City has its common Hestia or Holy

Hearth, upon which often a perpetual fire was maintained in its

‘Prytaneion’ or Common Hall; and the Cult of Zeus Ἑρκεῖος was

established in ancient days on the Akropolis of Athens. The

organisation of the ‘phratries’ was consecrated to the high deities,

Zeus Athena and--among some Ionic communities--to Aphrodite; and the

decisions of the ‘phrateres’ or ‘Brothers’ on questions of adoption

and legitimacy of citizens were delivered from the altar of Zeus

Phratrios; while the union of the local districts or ‘demes’ was

sanctified by the cult of Zeus or {67} Aphrodite Pandemos, the God or

Goddess of ‘all the demes.’ Also, the Polis organised and maintained

the kindred-festivals of commemoration proper to the family or gens or

phratria, the All-Souls celebration of the dead which was held at the

end of the Anthesteria; the γενέσια, the funeral feasts of the γένη;

the ‘Apatouria,’ the joint festival of the phratries; while the great

achievement of the consolidation of the scattered groups into the

single city was celebrated at Athens by the festival of the

Συνοικέσια, the ‘Union of all the Houses,’ and the Panathenaia, the

all-Attic feast of Athena.

The picture that these facts present of a State-religion based on the

idea of the family and of kinship is mainly drawn from Athens, of

which the religious record is always the richest; but it reflects

undoubtedly the system of the other Hellenic states as well. Many of

their records attest the belief that some one of the high divinities

was the ancestor or ancestress of the whole people, and this ancestry

was understood in the physical and literal sense. Thus Apollo

‘Patroös’ was the divine ancestor, being the father of Ion, of the

Ionic population of Attica, and even the non-Ionic stock of that

community, desired for political purposes to affiliate themselves to

this God.[67.1] In the same sense he was called Γενέτωρ, ‘the Father’

in Delos.[67.2] Zeus was the father of Arkas, the eponymous hero of

the Arcadians, and was worshipped as Πατρῶος at Tegea[67.3]; Hermes

also was ancestral God of part of {68} the Arcadian land and

identified with the ancestor Aipytos.[68.1] These religious fictions

came to exert an important influence on morality and also to develop

a certain spiritual significance which will be considered later.

_Hero-cult_.--This aspect of the public religion is further emphasised

by the prevailing custom of hero-worship which appears to have

gathered strength in this second period. The hero in the technical

sense was one whose tomb was honoured with semi-divine rites and who

was regarded either as a glorious man of the past or as the mortal

ancestor of the State or the tribe or the clan. The first clear

evidence of this in literature is in the poem of Arktinos of Miletos

called the ‘Aithiopis,’ that may belong to the end of the eighth

century, in which the apotheosis of Achilles was described. But there

is, as has been said, strong reason for believing that the practice of

‘heroising’ the dead descended from the pre-Homeric age. Nevertheless,

of the multitude of hero and ancestor cults recorded in ancient

Hellas, the greater number are probably post-Homeric. We find the

Delphic oracle giving vigorous encouragement to the institution of

them, and in the sixth century cities begin to negotiate and dispute

about the possession of the relics of heroes. Some of these in the

older cults may have been actual living men, dimly remembered, some

were fictitious ancestors, like Arkas and Lakedaimon, some may have

been faded deities, such as were Eubouleus at Eleusis and Trophonios

at Lebadeia. But all were imagined by the worshipper to have been once

men or women living upon the earth. This, {69} then, becomes a fact of

importance for the religious thought of the world, for it engenders,

or at least encourages, the belief that human beings might through

exceptional merit be exalted after death to a condition of blessed

immortality, not as mere spirits, but as beings with glorified body

and soul. Furthermore, certain ancient heroes, long endeared to the

people as the primeval parent or the war-leader of their forefathers,

become raised to the position of the high God and merged in his being;

Erechtheus shares the altar and even the title of Poseidon and Zeus,

Aipytos of Arcadia becomes Hermes, Agamemnon in Laconia at last is

fused with Zeus.[69.1]

Nor in this second period were such heroic honours reserved for the

remote ancestor or the great king or warrior of old, but were

sometimes paid to the recently dead, to the men who had served the

State well by arms or by counsel. On the assumption that Lykourgos of

Sparta was a real man--and no other theory that bears scrutiny has

been put forward about him--his case is the earliest recorded instance

of the ‘heroising’ of a personage of the historic period. A great

stimulus about this time was given to this practice by the expansion

of Greek colonisation, the greatest world-event of the period, which

reacted in many ways on religion. As the new colonists could not take

with them the tombs or the bones of the aboriginal hero of their

stock, they must institute a new hero-cult, so as to bind the new

citizens together by the tie of heroic kinship. The {70} most natural

person to select for this high honour was the founder or leader of the

colony, the κτίστης or ἀρχηγέτης as he was called; and we may regard

it as the usual rule that, when he died, he would be buried within the

city and his tomb would become a ‘ἡρῶον’ and would be visited yearly

with annual offerings.

That the ordinary head of the private household in this period

received posthumous honours amounting to actual worship cannot be

definitely proved. The tendance of the dead had become indeed a matter

of religion, and at Athens was attached to the ritual of the state by

the commemorative feast of All Souls, the χύτροι, or ‘Feast of Pots,’

the last day of the Anthesteria. But nothing that is recorded of this

ghost-ceremony convicts it of actual worship; the ghosts are invited

to spend the day with the household that holds them in affection; they

are offered pots of porridge, and then at sunset are requested or

commanded to depart. Prayers are proffered in their behalf to the

powers of death, but not directly to the ghosts themselves; no cult is

offered them as to superior beings endowed with supernatural power

over the lives of individuals and states.[70.1] Nevertheless, the

passionate service of lamentation and the extravagant dedication of

gifts which marked the funeral ceremonies of the eighth and seventh

centuries and which certain early legislation was framed to check,

reveals a feeling about the dead bordering on veneration and such as

might inspire actual worship.

We may safely assume that the growing interest of the States in

hero-cult intensified the family {71} aspect of the State-religion;

the hero as the glorious kinsman is invited to the sacrifices of the

higher deities, and to the hospitable ritual known as the ‘theoxenia’

in which the God himself is the host.

It is important for the student of religion to mark the consequences

of this close association of the civic religion with the idea of

kinship that held together the family and tribe. These have been

estimated more at length elsewhere[71.1] and only a few general

observations are possible here. Where a family bond exists between the

deity and the city, the spirit of genial fellowship is likely to

prevail in the ritual and religious emotions, and the family meal

might become the type of the public sacrificial meal with the god.

Such a religion is adverse to proselytism; for as it is the sacred

prerogative of certain kindred stocks, its principle means the

exclusion of the stranger. Its religious and moral feeling is

naturally clannish; the whole group must share in the moral guilt of

the individual, and the sins of the fathers will be visited on the

children. It affords a keen stimulus to local patriotism and quickens

an ardent life within the wall of the city; it has at the same time

the natural defects of narrowness of view. Yet, in the course of

religious evolution, we must regard the old Hellenic conception of the

God the Father of the tribe or the city as pregnant of the larger idea

of God as the Father of mankind, an idea which had already dawned upon

Homer at a time when the tribal spirit of religion was still at its

height.

A further result of such a system is that the {72} State-divinities

become also the patrons and guardians of the family morality, Zeus and

Hera, for instance, the supervisors of the human marriage and of the

duties of married life; and copious records present the High God as

the protector of the father’s right; of the tie that binds together

the brethren, the sisters, the kinsmen. While such a religion was a

living force, it was not likely that the family could assert itself as

against the State; to marry healthfully and early, to beget vigorous

children as defenders of the State and the family graves, to cherish

and honour one’s parents, to protect the orphan, these were patriotic

religious duties that were inspired by the developed State-religion

and strenuously preached by the best ethical teachers of Greece. The

State being the family ‘writ large,’ private morality and public could

not clash. The brutal action of Kreon in the Antigone is equally an

attack on the religion of the State as on that of the family; and it

was not till the fifth century that the claim of private conscience as

against the family and the State could arise or that the question

could be asked “Whether the good man was really the same as the good

citizen.”

_Influence of political religion on law_.--Of still greater interest

is an important advance in criminal law, discernible as early as the

eighth century, which may be traced partly to the growth of the City,

with its extended idea of kinship, partly to the growing intensity of

the belief in the power and significance of the spirits of the dead.

In the most primitive period of Hellas, the shedding of kinsman’s

blood was already a heinous sin; but the slaying of one outside the

kindred {73} circle was neither a sin against God nor a social crime.

But as the public mind of Greece became penetrated with the feeling

that all the citizens of the Polis were in some sense akin, the

slaying of a citizen became a criminal act of which the State, and no

longer merely the clan of the slain man, would take cognisance. And

this expanded concept of law is reflected in the expansion of an

ancient and most significant cult, the cult of Zeus Meilichios.[73.1]

This was the underworld God, who was angered and must be appeased when

kindred blood was shed; as the idea of kinship was enlarged, any civic

massacre might arouse his wrath and rites of atonement might be

offered to him. This keener sensitiveness concerning the sanctity of

human life was accompanied by a feeling that bloodshed might imprint a

stain on the slayer that rendered him ritualistically unclean, that

is, temporarily unfit to approach the Gods or men; it was also

fortified by the growing fear of the ghost-world, which seems to have

lain more heavily on the post-Homeric society than on Homer’s men. It

is hard to give the dates for this section of the mental history of

Hellas. The first record of the thought, which is nowhere explicit in

Homer, that homicide in certain circumstances demands purification is

derived from the Aithiopis of Arktinos, the epic poet of Miletos in

the eighth century.[73.2] Achilles, having slain the worthless

Thersites, must retire from the army for a while to be purified in

Lesbos by Apollo and Artemis; we mark here that the slain man was no

kinsman of the slayer in any true sense {74} of the word, but was a

member of the same Achæan community, and therefore his slaying

brought a religious impurity upon the hero; and we may believe that

the narrative reveals the early religious law of Miletos. But we must,

in passing, recognise the possibility that these apparently new

manifestations may be only a revival of immemorial thought and

feeling, common in the older non-Hellenic societies, and only for a

time suspended.[74.1]

_Influence of Delphi and Crete_.--In this post-Homeric development of

a system of purification from bloodshed, the legends suggest that

Crete and Delphi played a momentous part. In the great island, the

cradle of European culture, the cult of Zeus had early attached to

itself certain Cathartic ideas, probably of Dionysiac origin. And

probably in the pre-Homeric period the influence of Crete had reached

Delphi; while the legend of the migration of Apollo Delphinios from

Crete to Delphi, and the story that the God himself must go to this

island to be purified from the blood of Python, belong to the second

period with which we are dealing.

We have reason to believe that the Delphic God--through the agency of

his politic priesthood--was asserting his claim in the eighth and

seventh centuries to be the dictator in the matter of purification

from homicide, and thus to satisfy the cravings of an awakening

conscience. This claim may have been suggested partly by the fear of

competition with the spreading Dionysiac religion, which also brought

with it a ‘Kathartic’ message, and with which the Delphic priesthood

were wise enough to agree quickly; partly also by the aboriginal

nature of {75} Apollo, who was immemorially φοῖβος or ‘pure.’ Though

the claim was not universally admitted and the Apolline jurisdiction

could not obliterate the function of other divinities in this matter,

yet it was powerful and effective of much that was vital both to law

and religion. Of the early procedure at Delphi we know nothing. If the

god exercised discretion in his grant of purification, if he refused,

for instance, to purify the deliberate and cold-blooded murderer, here

was the opportunity for the emergence of a civilised law of homicide.

It may not have been until the seventh century that any Hellenic state

could express in a legal establishment its consciousness of the

difference between the act of murder and the act of justifiable or

accidental homicide. The earliest that we know of was the law-court,

ἐπί Δελφινίω, “near the image [or shrine] of the

Dolphin-God”--established at Athens under the patronage of the

Cretan-Delphic God to try cases where the homicide was admitted and

justification was pleaded. In this, as in other Attic courts that

dealt with the same offence, rites of purification were often an

essential adjunct of the ceremony. The typical legend that enshrines

the early ideas of ‘Katharsis’ and turns on the question of

justifiable homicide is the legend of Orestes, which had spread around

the Peloponnese and penetrated Attica as early as the eighth century,

and later became Pan-Hellenic. Apollo, as a divine agent, appears in

it first, as far as we have any literary record, in the lyric of

Stesichoros, and at some indeterminate date in this period undertook

the purification of the matricide.

_Influence of Delphi on colonisation_.--These {76} Cathartic functions

and the general demand for their exercise must have greatly enhanced

the influence of Delphi in the earlier part of the post-Homeric

period. It was doubtless strengthened even more by the great secular

movement of Greek colonisation. With wise foresight the God had

undertaken the guidance and encouragement of this already in the

earliest days when the Hellenes were pushing across the sea; for it

seems as if the first Greek settlements on the Asia Minor coast, the

Lycian and the Æolic, were due to his leadership if not to his

inspiration. The legends that associate him with the Dorian migration

into the Peloponnese are too powerful to be rejected. And after this

event, when light begins to shine on Greek history and the Hellenic

race was rapidly establishing that chain of colonies across and around

the Mediterranean which were to diffuse Greek culture through the

world, the power of Delphi and the Delphic oracle reached its zenith.

For it is clear that it was the prevailing fashion to consult the

Pythian Apollo as to the choice of a site. Hence it came about that in

so many Greek cities Apollo was worshipped as Ἀρχηγέτης, that is, as

the divine founder, and that the flourishing communities of the West

sent back tithe-offerings to his shrine.[76.1] Was it by some

accident or by something essential in his early cult and character

that the God was able to play this momentous political part, such as

no other deity has ever played in the secular history of his people?

The cause may lie far back in the dim antiquity of the Apolline cult,

when he was specially Ἀγυιεύς, a god ‘of the road,’ the leader of the

migratory host. And {77} in pre-Homeric times, if not aboriginally, he

was already an oracular God; nor was any occasion so urgent for a

consultation of the local oracle as when the people were setting forth

on their perilous path to find a new home.[77.1]

_The Delphic oracle_.--The spiritual history of the Hellenic race in

the early history period, when we mark a growing consciousness of

nationality and of kinship in the various stocks, is very much a

record of the career and activity of the Delphic oracle; and this is

too complex and lengthy a theme to be more than adumbrated

here.[77.2] Due partly to the local position and the immemorial

sanctity of the oracle, partly to the devotion and the grateful

remembrance of the powerful Dorian states in the Peloponnese, the

Pythian worship came to overshadow the Delian, and provided the chief

religious centre and the strongest bond of spiritual unity in the

Hellenic world. For political unity it could do little, owing to the

centrifugal bias of Greek politics; yet the Delphic Amphiktyony, the

most powerful of these religious confederations that are recorded here

and there in the early history of Greece, contained within it the

germs of intertribal morality and concord. Its members were not indeed

pledged to perpetual amity, but at least to a certain mutual

forbearance even in their warlike dealings with one another. But the

chief regulative functions of the oracle were concerned with questions

of the institution and administration of cults, with the domains of

legislation, colonisation, public and even private morality and

conduct. In the sphere of religion it doubtless {78} emphasised the

necessity of purification from bloodshed; otherwise it had no high

religious message to deliver; but it was enthusiastic for the

propagation of the cult of Dionysos, and it authorised and sometimes

encouraged the growing tendency towards the posthumous worship of

distinguished men. In the sphere of morality its standard was

generally high and its influence beneficent, especially--if we can

trust the record--in the later period when it played the part of a

State-Confessional and in its utterances reflected generally the

progress of Greek ethics and the spirit of an enlightened

humanitarianism.

But its chief religious achievements were to bring some principle of

unity and authority into the complex and shifting aggregate of Greek

polytheism, and to deepen the impression on the Hellenic mind of the

divine ordering of the world; and the fruits of this teaching we

gather in the works of Attic tragedy and in the history of Herodotus.

In view of the history of other temple institutions of like power

among other peoples--the Mesopotamian, for instance--we may be

surprised that the Delphic priesthood made no attempt to impose Apollo

as the supreme God upon the Hellenic states. The author of the Homeric

hymn, composed partly under Delphic influences, exalts Apollo as high

as he dares; but neither in this nor in any Delphic utterance is

Apollo presented as more than the minister of Zeus, the mouthpiece of

the supreme Father-God, the tradition of whose supremacy among the

Aryan Hellenes had been fixed fast by Homer and the Homeridai.

Nor did the Delphic Apollo succeed in achieving a monopoly of

divination; for the spirit of local {79} independence was opposed to

any divine monopoly in any department of life. And other oracles, such

as some of those on the Asia Minor shore, acquired considerable

prestige, especially in the later period when the influence of Delphi

had declined. But from the eighth till the beginning of the fifth

century, the Pythian is the only one of the many mantic institutions

that is to be regarded as a vital force of Pan-Hellenism.

_The games of Greece_.--As another important phenomenon belonging to

the earlier part of this second period we note the emergence and

development of the great Hellenic games. Some recent theorists have

supposed that all the public athletic contests in Greece arose

directly from some religious ritual belonging to the cult either of

the gods or of the dead hero. The evidence is faulty and the

ritualistic origin of these institutions is unproven. But a common

temple-worship undoubtedly gave the opportunity and the occasion to

the development of the four Great Games, and from the beginning they

were placed beneath the ægis of religion. And these must be reckoned

as among the strongest Pan-Hellenic influences, evoking and

strengthening the consciousness of nationality. For in the sixth

century the whole of Hellas, eastern and western, was represented at

Olympia, Pytho, the Isthmus and Nemea; here was maintained the ‘truce

of God’ between the jealous or hostile communities; and at Olympia

once in every four years the Pan-Hellenes offered a common homage to

their aboriginal Father-God.

We must then regard the great games and the Pythian establishment as

momentous factors in the {80} religious national life, as tending to

evolve a religion of a broader compass than the narrow tribal type of

the remote past. And they concern the higher mental history of the

race because most of them, and notably the Pythian, included

competitions of art and literature; and thus they assisted in

establishing the specially Hellenic theory of the divine character of

the artistic and intellectual life.

There were other festal and public meetings of a more exclusively

religious purpose that also served to deepen in the various states the

consciousness of spiritual unity, and often, where the great lyric

poets composed hymns for the occasion, to exalt and illuminate the

ideal conception of the divinity; the Pan-Ionic Delian festival of

Apollo, for instance, of which the splendour developed in the early

post-Homeric age and with the growing prosperity of the new Ionic

colonies, must have contributed much to the building up of the

peculiarly Hellenic ideal of Apollo; and the Homeric hymn, inspired by

this occasion, is the earliest record of the national consciousness of

the Ionic race.

_Diffusion of Dionysos-worship_.--Another religious phenomenon,

pregnant of consequences for the spiritual history of Hellenism, is

the diffusion of the worship of Dionysos. Faint, though indubitable

traces of this can be discerned in the prehistoric period, but it only

begins to be palpable and important in the early historic. Its

significance has already been indicated in general outlines.[80.1]

Having entered Attica from Bœotia and been adopted into the Attic

state-religion some time before the Ionic migration to the Asia Minor

coast, {81} it gradually, in the eighth and seventh centuries captured

most of the States of the Peloponnese, of the islands and the more

distant colonies.

The Hellenic culture of Dionysos forms one of the most interesting

chapters in the spiritual career of Hellenism; for the taming of the

wild Thracian God, the transformation of him into a civic deity, the

disciplining and the adaptation of the thiasoi of the Maenads to the

uses of an orderly state-religion, were not the least among the

achievements of the Hellenic genius. And as the state-religion of

these centuries had no eschatologic theory, so it seems to have

discarded everywhere whatever eschatologic promise the Dionysiac

religion proclaimed on its entrance into Greece. Yet, in spite of the

chastening influence of the civic spirit, the worship preserved much

of its distinctive tone and religious power; evoking a special mood

unknown in the other cults; while even the savage form of sacrament,

in which the God was devoured in his human or animal-incarnation,

survived with some modifications in Tenedos and Chios down to a late

period. The history, then, of the Dionysiac religion concerns the

account of the development of the sacramental idea in the

Mediterranean. It concerns also the history of Hellenic culture; for

one of its modes of expression was a peculiar type of emotional music,

accompanying the Dionysiac hymn known as the dithyramb, which has been

regarded, though probably erroneously, as the parent of Attic tragedy.

Its main contribution to the polytheism of Greece was its stimulation

of a warmer and stronger religious faith; and its special later

service to popular religious theory was the refining and {82}

brightening of men’s thoughts and sentiments concerning the life after

death and the powers of the lower world, with whom the mild and genial

God was generally identified or associated.

_Orphic thiasoi_.--But its highest importance is found rather in the

esoteric than in the external or popular domain of Hellenic religion.

For, perhaps as early as the seventh century, the cult of Dionysos was

raised to a higher power by the rise and diffusion of the Orphic

brotherhoods or ‘thiasoi’ who worshipped this deity under various

mystic names. The study of Orphism is of the highest interest and

complexity; and it is only possible here to indicate its general

features and significance. The preachers of the Orphic doctrines are

the first propagandists or missionaries that we can discover in the

pre-Christian Mediterranean world. For they had a definite message,

and ignoring the gentile and civic barriers of the old political

religion, they preached it, if not to all mankind, at least to all the

Hellenes. It was a message fraught with some new and momentous ideas,

whose real import we have been able to gather in part from the now

famous gold-tablets found in the graves of Crete and South Italy, and

containing parts of a metric Orphic liturgy and creed that is a

product at latest of the fifth, if not the sixth, century B.C.

Combining these with some passages in Pindar’s Odes and Plato’s

Dialogues, we can recover in outline the doctrine of early Orphism. It

proclaimed a theory, unfamiliar to native Greek mythology and

religion, that the soul of man is divine and of divine origin; that

the body is its impure prison-house where it is in danger of

contracting stain; that by elaborate purifications and {83}

abstinences the soul might retain its purity, and by sacramental and

magic methods the pure soul might enjoy in this life and in the next

full communion with God. Preoccupied with the problem of the life

after death, the Orphic mystics evolved the concept of Purgatory, a

mode of posthumous punishment temporary and purificatory; also, if we

can trust certain indications in Pindar and Plato, the dogma of

reincarnation or more specially of a triple cycle of lives both in

this world and the next. Students of religious philosophy have noted

here the striking resemblance to Buddhistic thought; and have

considered whether Indian speculation could have cast its influence so

far westward at so early a time.

It is of more immediate importance for the religious history of the

Greek people to determine--if we could--the measure of success that

these missions achieved, how far they succeeded in capturing the

masses or the élite of the people. They certainly did not succeed in

penetrating the inner circle of the Eleusinian mysteries; there is no

evidence that they even tried, though it is likely that they did; but

we may surmise that their influence was at one time strong at Athens,

as Aristophanes proclaims as a generally accepted tradition that

Orpheus was the apostolic founder of all mysteries. They were

evidently powerful in Crete; but the chief arena of their activity and

the chief scene of their secular and political influence was ‘Western

Hellas’ or Magna Græcia, where Pythagoras was their greatest convert

and the Pythagorean clubs their militant orders. The career of these

forms a page of general Greek history. Their downfall relieved Hellas

from the danger of the establishment {84} of Orphism as a secular

power, which threatened the Hellenic spirit with a bondage to

sacerdotalism and the pharisaic formalism of the purist. Henceforth,

the Orphic religion was a private influence only, and we have no

evidence to determine precisely how great it was at any particular

epoch. Pindar was deeply touched by it. Æschylus and Sophocles, so

far as we can see, remained unmoved, while Euripides may have been at

times attracted and at times repelled but was in no sense its

champion. Plato in a well-known passage[84.1] protests strongly

against the Orphic mystery-mongers as spiritual quacks destitute of

any real morality, who dealt in magic and traded in promises and

threats concerning the other world. Whether this moral estimate of

Orphism was just or not, there is no doubt that Plato’s theory of the

soul as expressed in the Phædrus was indebted to the Orphic

metaphysic. And the part played by these preachers of purity and

salvation in the later spiritual history of Greece was certainly of

high importance. They mark the beginning of a new era of individualism

and of what is called ‘otherworldliness’ in religion; for their

concern was with the personal soul and its destiny.

_Eleusinian mysteries_.--The Eleusinia or Mysteries of Eleusis were a

more national and Pan-Hellenic institution than the Orphica, but of

somewhat similar influence and purpose. Originally they may have been

merely the tribal mysteries of an agrarian society to which only the

adult members of the Eleusinian community were admitted. But when our

earliest record reveals them, namely, the Homeric hymn to Demeter

which cannot be later {85} than the close of the seventh century, they

have already enlarged their borders and their scope. For they appear

there as appealing to the whole Hellenic world, and their special

promise to the initiated is the happiness of the soul after death.

Having once transcended the tribal limits, they seem to have imposed

no conditions on the aspirants for admission except the possession of

Hellenic speech and purity from actual stain; the initiation was open

to women and occasionally to slaves. Nor does their influence and the

power of their appeal appear to have waned until the introduction of

Christianity. Many scholars have laboured to solve the problems

concerning their ritual, their doctrine and their inner significance.

It has been thought that their chief attractiveness may have lain in

their preservation of a higher sacramental conception of the sacrifice

that had died out in the ordinary public ritual; that the initiate

drank of a sacred cup in which were mystically infused the very life

and substance of the kindly Earth-Mother, with whom their own being

was thus transcendentally united. But more careful criticism shows

that, though a simple form of sacrament was part of the preliminary

service, the real pivot of the mystery was not this but a solemn

pageant in which certain sacred things fraught with mystic power were

shown to the eyes of the initiated, who also were allowed to witness

mimetic performances showing the action and passion of a divine drama,

the Abduction of the Daughter, the sorrow and long search of the

Mother, the Holy Marriage of reconciliation, possibly the birth of a

holy infant.

To imagine the thrill and the force of these rites, one must imagine a

mediæval passion-play {86} performed with surpassing stateliness and

solemnity. Those who saw these things in the Hall of the Mysteries at

Eleusis may have carried away with them an abiding sense of a closer

communion with the benign powers of the nether world and a resulting

hope of a happier posthumous lot. We must regard them as the highest

and most spiritual product of the pure Hellenic religion, investing it

with an atmosphere of mystery and awe that was generally lacking in

the public cult, and which was unperturbed at Eleusis by any violence

of morbid ecstasy such as marked the Phrygian and some of the Orphic

rites. We may believe that they exercised a healthful influence on the

moral and spiritual temperament of the Hellene; but it is not clear

that they definitely proclaimed any higher moral theory, nor do they

appear like the Orphica to have preached any dogma of metaphysic or

theology. But, like the Orphica, they tended to widen the horizon of

the religious spirit; for they appealed to a far larger public than

the ordinary cults of the city; and while being Pan-Hellenic in this

sense they belong to the domain of personal religion, for they

satisfied the personal craving of the individual for closer fellowship

with the deity and they soothed the troublous apprehensions that were

growing up in this second period concerning the individual destiny of

the soul. Yet as regards Attica and Athens at least and probably as

regards Hellas, they are not to be ranked, as the Orphica may be,

among the disruptive forces of individualistic religion, undermining

the social fabric of public worship. For the Athenian State

administered them--by the help of Eleusinian officials--in its

corporate capacity; and one of the catechumens--the {87} παῖς ἀφ᾽

ἑστίας--was initiated, according to the most probable view, in behalf

of the whole youth of the city.[87.1]

In the great mysteries the agrarian significance, though discoverable

and associated with simple agrarian magic, was overshadowed by higher

and more spiritual religion. And elsewhere in the State-festivals we

note this same phenomenon of progress in this second period. Old-world

utilitarian rites of agriculture and fertility were often taken over

by the expanding Polis and received an artistic elaboration that

disguised their original significance for the primitive peasant and

raised them to a higher plane of social religion. This interesting

process can be best studied in following the detailed records of the

Laconian Karneia and Hyakinthia, the Delphic Pythia, the Attic

Panathenaia: we can feelingly appreciate in these the potent influence

of the lyric poetry, the music, and the art of early Greece, shaping

and elevating men’s imagination of divinity.

By the close of this second period--_c._ 500 B.C.--the Hellenic

national consciousness had realised itself in respect of intellectual

culture, ethics and religion. Zeus Hellanios, the tribal God, is

becoming Panhellanios. The age of the tyrants contributed much to the

growth of Pan-Hellenism; Peisistratos something to the idea of a

national religion, in that he seems to have worked zealously for the

organisation and expansion of the Eleusinian mysteries. The cult of

Dionysos has penetrated the leading communities and most of the byways

of Greece; and nearly everywhere he has been partially tamed and the

Mænads either suppressed or disciplined to the more sober purposes of

civic worship. {88} But the two most striking phenomena in the

spiritual history of the sixth century were, first, the rise and

expansion of Ionic philosophy and physical speculation, and, secondly,

the development of a new form of literature that came to be known as

the Attic Drama. And both must be reckoned with among the forces

affecting the life of the popular religion.

_Sixth-century philosophy_.--The relations of Greek philosophy to

Greek religion is a great and complex subject, the theme of many

modern treatises; and in this slight sketch of the whole history of

the polytheism there is no room for more than a few most general

observations. So far as the new speculation, which gave birth to the

free secular science of Europe, was preoccupied with questions of the

physical origins of things and elemental theories of cosmogony, it

would not necessarily clash with any orthodox prejudice of the average

Hellene. For he had no sacred books which dictated to him any views

concerning the origin of the world or the constitution of nature, and

which he would have considered it immoral to disbelieve. In fact when

Herakleitos boldly declared that “neither God nor man made the

Kosmos,” there was no authoritative Greek myth or theologic dogma to

gainsay him. But the great philosophers of the sixth century,

Pythagoras, Empedokles, Xenophanes and Herakleitos were also directly

concerned with the philosophy of religion, with speculations on the

nature and with the true definition of Godhead; and some of the

surviving fragments of their works express ideas and sentiments in

sharp antagonism to the concepts and ritual of the contemporary

polytheism. The main trend of their {89} speculations ran counter to

the anthropomorphic theory of divinity; and they tend to define God

not as a person, but rather as the highest spiritual or metaphysical

or even physical power or function of the universe; and there is a

common tendency in this sixth-century thought away from the theistic

to the pantheistic view. Pythagoras is said to have explained the

conception of God in terms of mathematics and to have been willing to

accept the personages of the popular polytheism on condition of

finding their true mathematical equation.[89.1] But this philosopher

stands apart from the other leaders of this first period of Hellenic

free thought. The mathematical mind is often a prey to mysticism. And

Pythagoras was the most powerful champion and apostle of Orphism, the

founder of those secret societies that threatened the secular and the

intellectual freedom of Hellas. Equally on its mystic as on its

rationalistic side the Pythagorean teaching was in tendency inimical

to the public religion of Greece, though the members of this sect

appear always to have compromised with it. In the fragments of

Xenophanes we find the most severe protests against the current

religious conceptions of Hellas; his verses quoted by Clemens[89.2]

polemise strongly against the folly of anthropomorphism, which is the

master-passion of Greek polytheism; and if one or two of his quoted

utterances seem to proclaim monotheism, it is clear that for his

higher thought Godhead was not a person, but a cosmic principle or a

noetic idea. On the whole the same account may be given of the

religious theory of Herakleitos so far as this is revealed at all in

the {90} fragments. It has indeed been recently maintained that he

tolerated and found a place in his system for the contemporary

polytheism;[90.1] but it is probably a truer view that he regarded it

with half-disguised contempt and only used its terms and figures on

occasion as literary expressions; while three of his fragments are

scornful exclamations against the excesses of the Bacchic ritual, the

methods of purification from blood, and the folly of idolatry.[90.2]

Yet in this early speculation of the sixth century the parting of the

ways has not yet been reached for physical science and religion; the

cosmic theory is expressed in spiritual and animistic rather than in

materialistic terms; for Empedokles Love and Strife are creative

principles, in the view of Thales the magnet has a soul and all things

are full of divine potencies. The great movement of Ionic thought was

indeed adaptable to a high pantheistic or animistic creed, but not to

the personal polytheism of the Hellenes, though most of the

philosophers do not appear to have been vehement protestants. And at

first their protests could have influenced only the minds of a few;

not before the fifth century was the popular State-religion obliged to

take notice of it.

_Rise of tragedy_.--The other phenomenon referred to above as marking

the close of this period was the rise of tragedy. The question of its

influence on the whole popular religion belongs to the history of the

fifth century. What concerns us chiefly at this point is its close

association with Dionysos-cult. The traditional view that it actually

originated in some {91} mimetic form of Bacchic ritual is in the

opinion of the present writer still the most reasonable, although this

is now denied by some scholars.[91.1] But even if its connection with

Dionysos-worship is a secondary or accidental fact, it is still a fact

of importance for the history of Greek polytheism. The records

concerning Thespis of the Attic village Ikaria, a place dominated by

ancient Dionysiac legend, the statement of Herodotus concerning

Kleisthenes, the tyrant of Sikyon, who gave to Dionysos the tragic

choruses that hitherto had been devoted to the hero-cult of Adrastos,

are sufficient proofs that this greatest of all the literary

achievements of post-Homeric Hellas was dedicated to the God already

in the sixth century; and throughout the glorious career of the Attic

stage Dionysos remained its patron-God.

His worship, then, must have received a strong stimulus from this new

form of literature which rapidly achieved popularity and appealed

directly to a larger public than the other. And his character thus

undergoes a singular transformation; the wild God of barbaric origin

comes to take rank by the side of Apollo and the Graces as a divinity

of culture and education, the inspirer of one of the greatest of

Hellenic arts. Here again, as in the cults of Apollo, Athena and the

Muses, we mark the characteristically Hellenic fusion of art and

religion; and the history of the dithyramb, the Dionysiac hymn which

may have been the parent of the drama and which was wedded to a

peculiar mode of music and rhythm, is an important chapter in the

history of European music.

Outline-history of Greek religion · 第 3 / 5 章