DIONYSIAC RELIGION IN GREECE
ITS AMALGAMATION WITH APOLLINE RELIGION. ECSTATIC PROPHECY. RITUAL
PURIFICATION AND EXORCISM. ASCETICISM
The Greeks received from the Thracians and assimilated to their own
purposes the worship of Dionysos, just as, in all probability, they
received the personality and worship of Ares and the Muses. Of this
assimilation we cannot give any further particulars; it took place
in a period lying before the beginnings of historical tradition. In
this period a multiplicity of separate tendencies and conceptions,
freely mingled with features borrowed from foreign creeds, were
welded together to form the religion of Greece.
Homer is already acquainted with the fanatical worship of Dionysos;
the god is called by the name under which Greek worshippers made
themselves familiar with the stranger.[1\9] But in Homer, Dionysos
appears only once or twice for a moment in the background. He is not
the bountiful giver of wine; he does not belong to the Round Table
of the great gods assembled on Olympos. Nowhere in the story told in
either of the Homeric poems does he influence the life and destiny
of human beings. There is no need to seek far for the reason of
Dionysos' subordinate position in the Iliad and the Odyssey. Homer's
silence makes it quite plain that at that time the Thracian god had
not yet emerged from a position of insignificance or merely local
importance in the life and faith of Greece. Nor is this hard to
understand; the cult of Dionysos only gradually won recognition in
Greece. Many legends tell of the battles that had to be fought by
the new worship and of the opposition that met the invader. We hear
how the Dionysiac frenzy and the _ekstasis_ of the Dionysiac
dance-festival took possession of the whole female population of
many districts of Central Greece and the Peloponnese.[2\9] Sometimes
a few women would venture to join the wandering choruses of wild
Bacchants who danced upon the mountain tops; here and there the king
of the land would oppose the progress of this tumultuous worship.
Such stories are told of the daughters of Minyas in Orchomenos, of
Proitos in Tiryns, of King Pentheus at Thebes, and Perseus at
Argos;[3\9] their opposition to the Dionysiac form of worship,
occurring in {283} reality at no precise date, assumed a deceptive
distinctness in the artificial systems of the mythologists and
developed the character of historical events. In reality what we are
told of these individuals--how the opponents of Dionysos themselves
fell into even wilder frenzy and in Bacchic delirium slew and tore
in pieces their own children instead of the victim-animal, or (as in
the case of Pentheus) became themselves the victim slain and torn in
pieces by the raging women--all this belongs to the class of
_ætiological_ myth. They are legends in which special features of
worship (for example, the existing or dimly remembered sacrifice of
human beings at the feasts of Dionysos) are provided with a mythical
prototype in the supposed historical past of mythology, and thus
receive their justification.[4\9] Still, there remains a substratum
of historical fact underlying such stories. They all presuppose that
the cult of Dionysos arrived from abroad and entered into Greece as
something foreign. This presupposition notoriously corresponds to
the actual facts of the case, and we are bound to assume that the
account which they immediately proceed to give of the violent
opposition which this cult, and only this cult, met with in many
parts of Greece, is not pure fiction.[5\9] We are obliged to
recognize that such stories preserved a trace of real historical
memory expressed in the one form which was invariably assumed by the
earliest Greek tradition, namely mythology, in which all the
accidents and varieties of earthly experience were condensed into
types of universal applicability.
It was then not without opposition, it appears, that the worship of
Dionysos, descending from the north into Boeotia, spread from thence
to the Peloponnese and at an early period invaded even some of the
islands as well. In truth, even if we had no evidence at all on the
point, we should have expected the Greeks to feel a profound
repugnance to this disorderly and tumultuous Thracian worship; a
deep-seated instinct must in their case have resisted such
extravagance of emotional excitement and refused to lose itself in
the limitless abyss of mere feeling. This unchecked roaming over the
mountain sides in nocturnal revelry might be suitable enough for
Thracian women-folk, but respectable Greek citizens could not give
themselves up to such things without a struggle--without, indeed, a
break with all inherited propriety and decorum.[6\9] It seems to
have been the women who were the first to give in to the invading
worship,[7\9] carried away in a real frenzy of inspired enthusiasm,
and the new cult may really have owed its first success chiefly to
them. What we are told of the irresistible progress and widespread
success[8\9] of the {284} Bacchic dance-worship and its exaltation
reminds us of the phenomena which have attended similar religious
epidemics such as have in more recent times occasionally burst out
and overflowed whole countries. We may in particular recall to mind
the accounts which we have of the violent and widespread
dance-madness which, soon after the severe mental and physical shock
suffered by Europe in the Black Death of the fourteenth century,
broke out on the Rhine and for centuries could not be entirely
stamped out. Those who were attacked by the fever were driven by an
irresistible impulse to dance. The bystanders, in convulsions of
sympathetic and imitative fury joined in the whirling dance
themselves. Thus the malady was spread by contagion, and soon whole
companies of men, women, and girls, wandered dancing through the
country. In spite of the insufficiency of the surviving records, the
religious character of this dance-enthusiasm is unmistakably
apparent. The Church regarded it as a "heresy". The dancers called
upon the name of St. John or of "certain demons"; hallucinations and
visions of a religious nature accompanied their ecstasies.[9\9] Can
it have been another such popular religious malady which attacked
Greece--perhaps in the train of the disturbance of spiritual
equilibrium caused by the destructive migrations which take their
name from the Dorians? The circumstances of the time must have
predisposed men's minds in that direction and made them ready to
accept the Thracian Dionysos and his enthusiastic dance-worship. In
any case this invasion did not, like its mediæval counterpart, break
down by coming into conflict with a well-established religion and an
exclusive ecclesiastical organization of a very different temper
from its own. In the deceptive twilight of myth we can only dimly
discern the arrival and progress of the Dionysiac religion in
Greece. But so much at least is evident: the Bacchic cult, though it
had to overcome many obstacles, at last established itself in Greece
and triumphantly overran both mainland and islands, until in the
course of time it obtained a profound and far-reaching importance in
Greek life of which Homer could scarcely give a hint.
§ 2
It was no longer simply the old Thracian Dionysos who now took his
place beside the other great gods of the Greek Olympos as one of
themselves. He had become Hellenized and humanized in the meantime.
Cities and states celebrated him in yearly festivals as the giver of
the vine's inspiring fruit, as {285} the daimonic patron of
vegetation, and the whole of Nature's rich and flourishing growth.
He was worshipped as the incarnation of all natural life and vigour
in the fullest and widest sense: as the typical exponent of the most
eager enjoyment of life. Even Art, the highest expression of the
courage and pride of life, drew much of its inspiration and its
aspiration towards the infinite from the worship of Dionysos; and
the drama, that supreme achievement of Greek poetry, arose out of
the choruses of the Dionysiac festival.
Now the art of the actor consists in entering into a strange
personality, and in speaking and acting out of a character not his
own. At bottom it retains a profound and ultimate connexion with its
most primitive source--that strange power of transfusing the self
into another being which the really inspired participator in the
Dionysiac revels achieved in his _ekstasis_. The essential features
of the god as he first arrived in Greece from foreign lands, in
spite of much alteration and transformation of the primitive type,
were thus not entirely lost. There remained also, in addition to the
cheerful festivity of the daylight worship of Dionysos, as it was
celebrated more particularly in Athens, certain vestiges of the old
ecstatic worship which drove men and women over the mountains in
nocturnal revelry. In many places there were still celebrated the
_trieteric_ festivals[10\9] in which at recurrent intervals the
"Epiphany" of Dionysos, his appearance in the world of men and
ascent from the underworld, was **solemnized by night. The primitive
character of Dionysos the Lord of Spirits and of the Souls of the
dead--a very different figure indeed from the tender and delicate
Wine-God of later times--was still obscurely present in many
features of the Dionysiac festivals, in those of Delphi especially,
but even to some extent at Athens too.[11\9] The ecstasy and the
violence, even the dark savagery of the ancient cult did not quite
die out in the midst of all the refinements of Greek civilization;
recognizable traces of such things were preserved in the _Nuktelia_
and _Agrionia_ and in the various trieteric festivals that were
offered to the god in many different localities.[12\9] In Greece the
awful god received the blood of human victims.[13\9] Nor did the
outward signs of delirious frenzy, such as the eating of raw flesh,
the killing and tearing in pieces of snakes, entirely
disappear.[14\9] So little indeed, did the Bacchic frenzy that could
exalt and lift the worshipper to communion with the god and his
train, disappear before the gentler attractions of the gracious
wine-god and his festival, that the raving and "possession" which
characterized the cult of Dionysos were {286} now actually regarded
by foreign peoples as the essentially _Hellenic_ form of the worship
of the god.[15\9]
Thus, a sympathetic understanding of the orgiastic cult and its
tremendous capabilities lived on. The "Bacchants" of Euripides still
preserves for us a breath of its magic, a trace of the enthusiasm
and exaltation that overwhelmed the senses and enthralled the will
and consciousness of those who gave themselves up to the powerful
Dionysiac influence. Like an irresistible current that overwhelms a
swimmer or like the mysterious helplessness that frustrates the
dreamer, the magic power emanating from the neighbourhood of the god
took complete possession of the worshipper and drove him whither it
willed. Everything in the world was transformed for him; he himself
was altered. Every character in the play falls under the spell as
soon as he enters into the magic circle. Even the modern reader who
turns over the pages of Euripides' poem feels something of that
strange power to subdue the soul wielded by the Dionysiac mysteries
and experiences in his own person a faint reflexion of these
extraordinary states of mind.
Probably as a result of this profound Dionysiac fever which had once
raged through Greece like an epidemic and was liable to periodic
returns in the nocturnal festivals of the god, there remained in the
constitution of the Greek people a certain morbid weakness, a
susceptibility to suddenly appearing and as suddenly disappearing
crises in which the normal powers of perceiving and feeling were
temporarily overthrown. A few stray accounts have come down to us in
which we read how such brief attacks of passing insanity ran through
whole cities like an infectious disease.[16\9] The Korybantic form
of the malady, which was religious in character[17\9] and took its
name from the daimonic companions of the Phrygian Mountain Mother,
was a phenomenon quite well-known to doctors and psychologists.
Those affected by such fevers saw strange figures that corresponded
to no objective reality, and heard the sound of invisible flutes,
until at last they were excited to the highest pitch of frenzy and
were seized with a violent desire to dance.[18\9] The initiation
festivals of the Phrygian deities were specially directed to the
discharge and so eventually to the cure and "purgation" of such
emotional states; the means employed being principally dance and
music--more especially the music composed for the flute by the old
Phrygian masters; music that could fill the soul with inspiration in
suitably disposed natures.[19\9] By such methods the ecstatic
element was not simply suppressed or expelled, it was taken {287} up
as a special disciplinary process by the physician-priesthood who
recognized in it a vital movement and added it to the regular
worship of the god.
In a similar fashion Greece in its most enlightened period accepted
and practised the "enthusiastic" cult of Dionysos. Even the
tumultuous night-festivals of the Thracian god--festivals closely
related to those of Phrygia from which they had borrowed and to
which they had given so many features--were made to serve the
"purgation" of the ecstatically exalted soul. The worshipper in such
festivals "initiated his soul into the company of the god in holy
purifications, while he raged over the mountains in Bacchic
frenzy".[20\9] The purification consisted in this case, too, of
violent excitement in which the soul was stimulated to the highest
pitch of religious ecstasy. Dionysos as "Bakcheus" awoke the holy
madness which he himself again, after it had reached its highest
point of intensity, stilled and tranquillized as Lysios and
Meilichios.[21\9] The old Thracian cult of ecstasy has here been
modified in a fashion that belonged only to Greek soil and to Greek
modes of thought. Legend, allegorizing the facts, threw back this
final development of the Dionysiac worship into the remotest
antiquity. Even Hesiodic poems[22\9] related how the daughters of
King Proitos of Tiryns wandered in the holy frenzy of Dionysos[23\9]
over the mountain of Peloponnesus, until at last they and all the
**multitude of women who had joined them were healed and "purified"
by Melampous the Seer of Pylos famed in legend.[24\9] The cure was
effected through the intensification of the Dionysiac frenzy "with
loud crying and inspired dancing,"[25\9] and, further, by the use of
certain special purificatory devices.[26\9] Melampous did not put an
end to the Dionysiac cult and its "enthusiasm"; he rather regulated
and developed it. For this reason Herodotus can even call him the
"Founder" of the Dionysiac cult in Greece.[27\9] Legend, however,
always recognized in this "founder" of the Dionysiac festival an
adherent of the specifically _Apolline_ form of religion. "Apollo
had favoured him especially," and bestowed upon him the Seership
which became ancestral in his family.[28\9] Legend used him as a
type in which the reconciliation between the Apolline and the
Dionysiac was figuratively expressed. The reconciliation is an
historical fact, but it did not happen in the primitive past of
legend.
It is a fact, however, that Apollo did at last, doubtless after
prolonged resistance, enter into the closest alliance with this
remarkable divine brother of his, the Hellenized Dionysos. {288} The
covenant must have been made at Delphi. There at least on the
heights of Parnasos, in the Korykian Cave, the trieteric festival of
Dionysos was held every second year in the close neighbourhood of
Apollo the Lord of Delphi. Nay, more, in Apollo's own temple the
"grave" of Dionysos was shown,[29\9] and at this grave, while the
Thyiades of the god rushed over the mountain heights, the priests of
Apollo celebrated a secret festival of their own.[30\9] The festal
year of Delphi was divided, though unequally it is true, between
Apollo and Dionysos.[31\9] To such an extent had Dionysos taken root
at Delphi,[32\9] so closely were the two gods related, that while
the front pediment of the temple showed the form of Apollo, the back
pediment represented Dionysos--and the Dionysos of the nocturnal
ecstatic revels. Apollo, too, shared in the trieteric festival of
Dionysos,[33\9] while Dionysos in later times at the penteteric
festival of the Pythia, received, as well as Apollo, his share of
sacrifice and the contests of cyclic choruses.[34\9] The two
divinities have many of their titles and attributes in common; in
the end the distinction between them seems to disappear
entirely.[35\9]
Antiquity never forgot that at Delphi, the radiating centre of his
cult, Apollo was an intruder. Among the older deities whom he
supplanted there, the name of Dionysos also occurred;[36\9] but the
Delphic priesthood thought it wise to tolerate the Thracian god and
his ecstatic cult that at first seemed so opposed to that of their
own deity. Dionysos may have been too vigorous a spirit to allow his
worship to be suppressed like that of the Earth divinity who sent
the prophetic dreams. Apollo is the "Lord of Delphi"; but the
priesthood of the Delphic Apollo, following in this the tendency to
religious syncretism which is so recognizable in them, took the
worship of Dionysos under their protection. The Delphic Oracle in
fact introduced Dionysos into localities where he had hitherto been
a stranger, and nowhere so successfully or with such momentous
consequences as at Athens.[37\9] It was this promoting of the
Dionysiac form of religion by the great corporation which had the
leadership in Greece in all matters of religion, that did more than
anything else to secure for the god and his worship that profound,
wide-reaching influence on Greek religion that Homer, who knows
little even of the Delphic Oracle, completely ignores.
But it was a gentler and more civilized Dionysos whom Delphi
popularized and even helped to re-shape; the extravagance of his
ecstatic abandonment was pruned and moderated {289} to suit the more
sober temper of ordinary city-life, and the brighter, daylight
festivals of urban and countryside worship. Hardly a trace of the
old Thracian worship of ecstasy and exaltation is discoverable in
the Dionysiac worship of Athens. In other places, and especially in
the districts ruled over by the Delphic Apollo himself, Dionysiac
worship preserved more of its primitive nocturnal wildness. Even
Athens, in obedience to an oracular command, sent a religious
embassy of elected women to the Delphic Trieteria. It is plain
enough however, that in all this there was nothing but a dim
counterpart of the former tumultuous mountain-worship of the god,
and its profound soul-stirring ceremonies; the worship of Athens and
Delphi had reduced all that to a vague ritual traditionalism.[38\9]
§ 3
But in spite of all attempts to moderate and civilize it outwardly,
the cult of Dionysos retained as its most enduring feature a
tendency to the ecstatic and the extravagant that was continually
breaking out in threatening or alluring guise. So strong indeed was
the ecstatic element in Dionysiac worship, that when the Apolline
and Dionysiac forms of religion became united, as at Delphi, it was
the Apolline worship--once so hostile to anything in the nature of
ecstasy--that had to accept this entirely novel feature.
The "prophecy of inspiration", deriving its knowledge of the unseen
from an elevation of the human soul to the divine, was not always a
part of Greek religion. Homer, of course, knows of the prophetic
_art_ in which specially instructed seers explained such signs of
the gods' will as occurred accidentally or were purposely sought out
by men, and by this means claimed to discover the will of heaven
both at the moment and for the future. This is, in fact, the sort of
prophecy that Apollo bestowed upon his seers.[39\9] But the prophecy
of which there was no "art" and which "no man could be taught"[40\9]
(for it came in a moment by "inspiration")--of this Homer shows no
trace.[41\9] In addition to professional and independently working
prophets the Odyssey, and even the Iliad, too, are aware of the
enclosed oracular institutions belonging to the temple of Zeus at
Dodona and that of Apollo at Pytho.[42\9] Both these used the names
of the gods with whose service they were concerned to increase the
effect and the credit of their utterances. In the Odyssey (but not
the Iliad) there is a reference to the influence wielded by the
oracle of Apollo in the more important circumstances of a people's
{290} life. But whether at that time it was an inspired prophetess
who gave replies at Delphi we cannot be sure from the poet's words.
There must have been oracles of sortilege[43\9] at that place from
an early period under the protection of the god and it is these we
should naturally expect a poet to mean who nowhere[44\9] shows any
knowledge of the striking phenomena of ecstatic _mantikê_.[45\9]
In any case this new _mantikê_ of inspired prophets, which
subsequently enjoyed such enormous development and gave the Delphic
oracle such peculiar power, was a late-coming innovation in the
Apolline cult. Over the chasm in the rock at Pytho, out of which
arose a strange and potent vapour from the depths of the earth,
there had once existed an oracle of Gaia at which perhaps inquirers
had received their instruction through the means of premonitory
dreams by night.[46\9] The earth-goddess was displaced by Apollo
here as at many other oracular sites.[47\9] The accuracy of this
tradition is confirmed by the Delphic temple legend which speaks of
the overthrow of the oracular earth-spirit Python by Apollo.[48\9]
The change may have been gradually brought about; in any case, where
once the earth-divinity had spoken directly in dreams to the souls
of men, there Apollo now prophesied--no longer indirectly through
the intervening medium of signs and omens, but directly answering
those who, in open-eyed wakefulness, inquired of him, and speaking
to them out of the mouth of his ecstatically inspired prophetess.
This Delphic prophecy of inspiration is as far removed from the old
Apolline art of interpreting omens as it is closely allied to the
_mantikê_ which we found attached from the earliest times to the
Thracian cult of Dionysos.[49\9] It appears that in Greece Dionysos
but rarely obtained an official priesthood that could have organized
or maintained a permanent oracular institute attached to a
particular place or temple. In the one Dionysiac oracle in Greece,
however, of which we have certain knowledge a priest gave prophecies
in a state of "enthusiasm" and "possession" by the god.[50\9]
Enthusiasm and ecstasy are invariably the means of the Dionysiac
prophecy just as they were the means of all Dionysiac religious
experience. When we find Apollo in Delphi itself--the place where he
most closely allied himself with Dionysos--deserting his old
omen-interpretation and turning to the prophecy of _ekstasis_, we
cannot have much doubt as to whence Apollo got this new thing.[51\9]
With the mantic _ekstasis_, Apollo received a Dionysiac element into
his own religion. Henceforward, he, the cold, {291} aloof, sober
deity of former times, can be addressed by titles that imply Bacchic
excitement and self-abandonment. He is now the "enthusiastic", the
Bacchic god: Aeschylus strikingly calls him "ivy-crowned Apollo, the
Bacchic-frenzied prophet" (_fr._ 341). It is now Apollo, who more
than any other god, calls forth in men's souls the madness[52\9]
that makes them clairvoyant and enables them to know hidden things.
At not a few places there are founded oracular sites at which
priests or priestesses in frenzied ecstasy utter what Apollo puts
into their mouths. But the Pythian oracle remained the pattern of
them all. There, prophecy was uttered by the Pythia, the youthful
priestess who sat upon the tripod over the earth-chasm and was
inspired by the intoxicating vapour that arose from it, until she
was filled with the god, and with his spirit.[53\9] The god, so ran
the belief, entered into the earthly body; or else the soul of the
priestess, "released" from her body, received the heavenly
revelation with spiritual sense.[54\9] What she then "with frenzied
mouth" proclaimed, that the god spoke out of her; when she said "I",
Apollo was speaking of himself and of what concerned him.[55\9] It
is the god who lives, thinks, and speaks in her so long as the
madness lasts.
§ 4
A profound and compelling tendency of the human mind must have been
the source of the great religious movement that could succeed in
establishing, with the ecstatic prophecy of the Delphic priestess, a
seed of mysticism in the very heart of Greek religion. The
introduction of _ekstasis_ into the ordered stability of the Delphic
mode of religion was only a symptom of that religious movement and
not its cause. But now, confirmed by the god himself, and by the
experience which the mantic practice seemed to make so evident, the
new belief, so long familiar to Dionysiac religion and worship, must
have at last invaded the older and original type of Greek religion,
and taken hold of it in spite of that religion's natural antipathy
to anything of the kind. And this belief was that a highly exalted
state of feeling could raise man above the normal level of his
limited, everyday consciousness, and could elevate him to heights of
vision and knowledge unlimited; that, further, to the human soul it
was not denied, in very truth and not in vain fancy, to live for a
moment the life of divinity. This belief is the fountain-head of all
mysticism, and tradition still records a few traces of the way in
which it grew and spread at that time. {292}
It is true that the formal and official worship of the gods in
Greece (where their cults were not obviously affected by foreign
influence) remained as fast-bound as ever within the confines of
order and lucidity. We hear very little of the entrance of ecstatic
exaltation into the constitution of the older cults.[56\9] The
irresistible religious impulse to such things found an outlet
through other channels. Men and women began to appear who on their
own initiative began to act as intermediaries between the gods and
the needs of individual men. They were natures, we must suppose, of
unusual susceptibility to "enthusiastic" exaltation; having a
strange capacity for projecting themselves into the infinite.
Nothing in the organization of Greek religion prevented such men and
women, if they could not obtain authority from any religious
community of the state itself, from acquiring a real influence in
religious matters simply from their own experience of divine
favour,[57\9] their own inward communion with divine powers.
In the darkness and ferment of this period of growth, from the
eighth to the sixth centuries, we can vaguely discern many such
shadowy figures; they look uncommonly like those strange products of
the earliest infancy of Christianity when prophets, ascetics, and
exorcists wandered from land to land, called to their work by
nothing but the immediate grace of god (~cha/risma~), and not
attached to any permanent religious community. It is true that what
we hear of Sibyls and Bakides--men and women who wandered from land
to land prophesying the future, independently of and uncommissioned
by any particular oracular institute--is mostly legend; but these
are the sort of legends that preserve real historical tradition
condensed into single types and pictures. The nomenclature itself
tells us much: Sibyls and Bakides are not individual names, but
_titles_ belonging to various types[58\9] of ecstatic prophet, and
we are entitled to suppose that the types so named once existed. The
appearance in many places of Greek Asia Minor and the old mainland
of Greece of such divinely inspired prophets is among the
distinguishing marks of a clearly defined period in Greek history;
the age of promise that came immediately before the philosophic
period of Greece. The later age, entirely given up as it was to the
pursuit of philosophic enlightenment, made so little claim to the
inheritance in their own time of the divine favour that had once
enabled the Sibyls and Bakides to see their visions and utter their
wisdom, that there actually began to appear in large numbers
prophets at second-hand, who were satisfied {293} with preserving
the traditional wisdom of the inspired prophets of the past, and
with the judicious interpretation of their treasures.[59\9] The age
of _enthusiastic_ prophets was evidently a thing of the past. The
very literature of Sibylline and Bakid oracles, which began to
appear just at that time and showed itself capable of an almost
indefinite extension, was itself largely responsible for the veil of
myth and legend which completely enveloped the original bearers of
the prophetic title. Earlier and earlier became the historic events
of the past which they had foretold; further and further into the
mythical past, _before_ the time of the events prophesied, receded
the imaginary period of the great prophets.[60\9] In spite of which
the scientific chronologists of antiquity, who were far from being
imposed upon by the delusive anticipations of prophetic poems, found
reason for fixing the date of particular Sibyls--which means for our
purpose the whole prophetic age of Greece--in the fully historical
period of the eighth and seventh centuries.[61\9]
We may recognize, in what we hear of these prophets, the shadowy
representatives of a once real and living past; they are
reminiscences of a striking and therefore never quite forgotten
phase of Greek religious life. The Bakids and Sibyls were
independent agents--though not entirely without connexion with the
regular worship of the gods, they were not attached to any
particular temple--who wandered from land to land according to the
needs of those who sought their counsel. In this respect, at least,
they resembled the Homeric omen-interpreters,[62\9] and continued
their work; but they differed from them profoundly in the mode of
their prophesying. They were "seized by the god" and in ecstatic
clairvoyance saw and proclaimed unseen things. It was no academic
skill that they possessed, enabling them to interpret the meaning of
signs and omens that anyone could see--they saw what was visible
only to God and to the soul of man filled with God.[63\9] In hoarse
tones and wild words[64\9] the Sibyl gave utterance to what the
divine impelling power within her and not her own arbitrary fancy
suggested; possessed by the god, she spoke in a divine distraction.
An echo of such daimonic possession, and of the horrible reality and
terror that it had for the possessed, can still be heard in the
cries and convulsions which Aeschylus in the _Agamemnon_ gives to
his Kassandra--a true picture of the primitive Sibyl, and a type
that the poets of that prophetic generation had reflected backwards
into the earlier past of legend.[65\9] {294}
§ 5
The activity of the seer was not confined to foreseeing and
foretelling the future. We hear of a "Bakis" who "purified" and
delivered the women of Sparta from an attack of madness that had
spread like an epidemic among them.[66\9] The prophetic age of
Greece must have seen the origin of what later became part of the
regular duties of the "seer": the cure of diseases, especially those
of the mind;[67\9] the averting of evil of every kind by various
strange means, and particularly the supply of help and counsel by
"purifications" of a religious nature.[68\9] The gift or art of
prophecy, the purification of "the unclean", the healing of disease,
all seem to be derived from one source. Nor can we be long in doubt
as to what the single source of this threefold capacity must have
been. The world of invisible spirits surrounding man, which ordinary
folk know only by its effects, is familiar and accessible to the
ecstatic prophet, the _Mantis_, the spirit-seer. As exorcist he
undertakes to heal disease;[69\9] the _Kathartic_ process is also
essentially and originally an exorcism of the baleful influences of
the spirit-world.
The wide popularity and elaboration given to the notion--hardly
hinted[70\9] at as yet in Homer--of the universally present menace
of "pollution", which is only to be averted or got rid of by means
of a religious process of purification--this is one of the chief
distinguishing features of the over-anxious piety that marked the
post-Homeric age when men could no longer be content with the means
of salvation handed down to them by their fathers. If we confined
our attention to the fact that now we find purification required for
such actions as murder and the spilling of blood which seem to imply
a moral stain to the doer of them,[71\9] we might be tempted to see
in the development of Kathartic practices a fresh step in the
history of Greek ethics, and to suppose that the new practices arose
out of a refinement and deepening of the "conscience" which now
desired to be free from the taint of "sin" by the help of religion.
But such an interpretation of Katharsis (favourite as it is) is
disposed of by a consideration of the real essence and meaning of
the thing. In later times the methods of Katharsis were nearly
always in competition and conflict (rarely in friendly alliance) with
"conscience", with the independently developed ethical thought that
based itself upon the unchanging requirements of a moral law
transcending all personal will and feeling, and even the will of
daimonic powers. In its origin and essence Katharsis {295} had
nothing whatever to do with morality or with what we should call the
voice of conscience. On the contrary, it usurped the place which in
a more advanced and morally developed people would have belonged to
a true morality based on an inner feeling for what is right. Nor did
it fail to hinder the free and unfettered development of such a
morality. Kathartic practices required and implied no feeling of
offence, of personal guilt, of personal responsibility. All that we
know of these practices serves to bring this out and set the matter
in a clearer light.
Ceremonies of "purification" accompany every step of a man's life
from the cradle to the grave. The woman with child is "unclean" and
so is anyone who touches her; the new-born child is unclean;[72\9]
marriage is fenced about with a series of purificatory rites; the
dead, and everything that approaches them, are unclean. Now, in
these instances of the common and almost daily occurrence of
purification ceremonies, there can be no moral stain involved that
requires to be washed off, not even a symbolical one. Equally little
can there be any when ritual purifications are employed after a bad
dream,[73\9] the occurrence of a prodigy,[74\9] recovery from
illness, or when a person has touched an offering made to deities of
the lower world or the graves of the dead; or when it is found
necessary to purify house and hearth,[75\9] and even fire and
water[76\9] for sacred or profane purposes. The purification of
those who have shed blood stands on exactly the same footing. It was
necessary even for those who had killed a man with just cause, or
had committed homicide unknowingly or unwillingly; the moral aspect
of such cases, the guilt or innocence of the doer, is ignored or
unperceived. Even in the case of premeditated murder, the remorse of
the criminal or his "will to amend"[77\9] is quite superfluous to
the efficacy of purification.
It could not be otherwise. The "stain" which is wiped out by these
mysterious and religious means is not "within the heart of man". It
clings to a man as something hostile, and from without, and that can
be spread from him to others like an infectious disease.[78\9]
Hence, the purification is effected by religious processes directed
to the _external_ removal of the evil thing; it may be washed off
(as by water from a running spring or from the sea), it may be
violently effaced and obliterated (as by fire or even smoke alone),
it may be absorbed (by wool, fleece of animals, eggs),[79\9] etc.
It must be something hostile and dangerous to men that is thus
removed; since this something can only be attacked by {296}
religious means, it must belong to the daimonic world to which alone
Religion and its means of salvation have reference. There exists a
population of spirits whose neighbourhood or contact with men
renders then "unclean", for it gives them over to the power of the
unholy.[80\9] Anyone who touches their places of abode, or the
offerings made to them, falls under their spell; they may send him
sickness, insanity, evils of every kind. The priest with his
purifications is an "exorcist" who sets free those who have fallen
victims to the surrounding powers of darkness. He certainly fulfils
this function when he disperses diseases, i.e. the spirits who send
the diseases, by his ministrations;[81\9] when he employs in his
purificatory ritual hymns and incantatory formulæ which regularly
imply an invisibly listening being to whom they are addressed;[82\9]
when he uses the clang of bronze instruments whose well-known
property it is to drive away ghosts.[83\9] Where human blood has
been shed and requires "purification" the Kathartic priest
accomplishes this "by driving out murder with murder",[84\9] i.e. he
lets the blood of a sacrificed animal fall over the hands of the
polluted person. Here, the purification is plainly in the nature of
a substitution-sacrifice (the animal being offered instead of the
murderer).[85\9] In this way the anger of the dead is washed
away--for this anger is itself the pollution that is to be
removed.[86\9] The famous scapegoats were nothing but sacrifices
offered to appease the anger of the Unseen, and thereby release a
whole city from "pollution". At the _Thargelia_ or on extraordinary
occasions of need in Ionic cities, and even in Athens, unfortunate
men were in ancient times slain or stoned to death or burnt "for the
purification of the city".[87\9] Even the materials of purification
that in private life served to free the individual and his house
from the claims of invisible powers, were thought of as offerings to
these powers: this is proved clearly enough by the custom of
removing such materials, when they had served their purpose as
"purifications", to the cross-roads, and of making them over to the
unearthly spirits who have their being there. The materials of
purification so treated are in fact identical with offerings to the
dead or even with "Hekate's banquets".[88\9] In this case we can see
most clearly what the forces are which Kathartic processes
essentially aim at averting. In them no attempt was made to satisfy
a heartfelt consciousness of sin or a moral sense that has become
delicate; they were much rather the result of a superstitious fear
of uncanny forces surrounding men and stretching out after them with
a thousand threatening hands in the darkness. {297} It was the
monstrous phantasies of their own imagination that made men call
upon the priests of purification and expiation for much-needed aid
and protection.
§ 6
It is simply the invasion of human life by the sinister creatures of
the daimonic world that the clairvoyant _mantis_ is supposed to
avert with his "purifications". Among these sinister influences
Hekate and her crew are particularly noticeable. This is without
doubt an ancient product of religious phantasy--though it is not
mentioned by Homer--which did not till a late period emerge from the
obscurity of local observance and obtain general popularity: even
then it only here and there ceased to be a private and domestic cult
and reached the dignity of public city-worship.[89\9] The cult of
Hekate fled the light of day, as did the wild farrago of weird and
sinister phantoms that surrounded her. She is _chthonic_, a goddess
of the lower world,[90\9] where she is at home; but, more easily
than other lower-world creatures, she finds her way to the living
world of men. Wherever a soul is entering into partnership with a
body--at birth or in child bed--she is at hand;[91\9] where a soul
is separating from a body, in burials of the dead, she is there.
Amidst the dwelling-places of the departed, the monuments of the
dead and the gloomy ritual of their worship, she is in her
element.[92\9] She is the queen of the souls who are still fast
bound to the upper world. It shows her deep-seated connexion with
the primeval worship of the dead at the household hearth,[93\9] when
we hear of Hekate as dwelling "in the depth of the hearth",[94\9]
and being honoured together with the underworld Hermes, her
masculine counterpart, among the domestic gods who "were left to us
by our forefathers".[95\9]
This domestic cult may be a legacy from times when in familiar
intercourse with the lower world men did not yet fear "pollution"
therefrom.[95a\9] To later ages Hekate was the principal source and
originator of all that was ghostly and uncanny. Men came upon her
suddenly and to their hurt by night, or in the dreamy solitudes of
midday's blinding heat; they see her in monstrous shapes that, like
the figures in a dream, are continually changing.[96\9] The names of
many female deities of the underworld of whom the common people had
much to say--Gorgyra (Gorgo), Mormo, Lamia, Gello or Empousa, the
ghost of midday--denote in reality so many different
personifications and variations of Hekate.[97\9] {298} She appeared
most frequently by night, under the half-light of the moon, at the
cross-roads. She is not alone but is accompanied by her "crew", the
hand-maidens who follow in her train. These are the souls of those
who have not had their share of burial and the holy rites that
accompany it; who have been violently done to death, or who have
died "before their time".[98\9] Such souls find no rest after death;
they travel on the wind now, in the company of Hekate and her
daimonic pack of hounds.[99\9] It is not without reason that we are
reminded of the legends of "wild hunters" and the "furious host", so
familiar in modern times in many countries.[100\9] Similar beliefs
produced similar results in each case; perhaps there is even some
historical connexion between them.[101\9] These night-wandering
spirits and souls of the dead bring pollution and disaster upon all
who meet them or fall into their hands; they send evil dreams,
nightmares, nocturnal apparitions, madness and epilepsy.[102\9] It
is for them, the unquiet souls of the dead and Hekate their queen,
that men set out the "banquets of Hekate" at the cross-roads.[103\9]
To them men consign with averted faces the remains of the
purificatory sacrifices[104\9] that they may not come too close to
human dwelling places. Puppies, too, were sacrificed to Hekate for
"purifications", i.e. "apotropaic" sacrifices.
Gruesome inventions of all kinds were easily attached to this
province of supernaturalism: it is one of the sources which, with
help from other Greek conceptions and many foreign creations of
fancy, let loose a stream of anxious and gloomy superstitiousness
that spread through the whole of later antiquity and even reached
through the Middle Ages to our own day.
Protection and riddance from such things were sought at the hands of
seers and "Kathartic priests" who, in addition to ceremonies of
purification and exorcism had other ways of giving
help--prescriptions and recipes of many strange sorts which were
originally clear and natural enough to the fantastic logic of
superstition and were still credited and handed down as magic and
inexplicable formulæ after their real meaning had been entirely
forgotten. Others, again, were driven by a fearful curiosity to
attempt to bring the world of surrounding spirits--of whose doings
such strange stories were told in legend[105\9]--even closer to
themselves. By magic arts and incantations, they compelled the
wandering ghosts and even Hekate herself to appear before
them:[106\9] the magic power forces them to do the will of the
spirit-raiser or to harm his enemies.[107\9] It was these creatures
of the spirit-world that {299} magicians and exorcists claimed to
banish or compel. Popular belief was on their side in this, but it
is hardly possible that they never resorted to deceit and imposture
in making good their claims.
§ 7
The mantic and Kathartic practices, together with what arose out of
them, are known to us almost exclusively as they were in the time of
their decay. Even in the brief sketch just attempted of this notable
by-way of Greek religion, many details have had to be taken from the
accounts left to us by later ages that had quite outgrown the whole
idea of mantic and Kathartic procedure. Compared on the one hand
with science, seriously engaged in studying the real and inward
sources of being and becoming throughout the world, together with
the limitations of man's estate, and on the other hand with the
practical and cautious medical study of the physical conditions of
human life in health and sickness, the mantic and Kathartic
practices and all the myriad superstitions arising from them seemed
like a legacy from a forgotten and discredited past. But such things
persisted in many circles of old-fashioned and primitive-minded
people, though by the emancipated and cultured they were despised as
the silly and dangerous quackery of mendicant priests and wizards.
But this product of the religious instinct cannot always have
appeared in such a light; it certainly was not so regarded when it
first came into prominence. A movement that was zealously taken up
by the Delphic oracle, which influenced many Greek states in the
organization of their religious cults, must have had a period when
its right to exist was incontestable. It must have answered to the
needs of a time when the dawning sense of the profound unity and
interconnexion of all being and becoming in the world still
contented itself with a religious explanation of what seemed
mysterious, and when a few chosen natures were seriously credited
with the power to communicate with the all-embracing spirit-world.
Every age has its own ideal of Wisdom; and there came a time when
the ideal of the Wise Man, who by his own innate powers has achieved
a commanding spiritual position and insight, became embodied in the
persons of certain great men who seemed to fulfil the highest
conceptions of wisdom and power that were attributed to the ecstatic
seer and priest of purification. The half-mythical stories in which
later ages preserved the memory of the times lying just before the
{300} age of the philosophic exploration of nature tell us of
certain great masters of a mysterious and occult Wisdom. It is true
that they are credited with powers over nature of a magical kind
rather than with a purely intellectual insight into the laws of
nature; but even in the scanty accounts of them which have come down
to us there are clear indications that their work already included
the first attempts at a mode of study based on theory. We cannot
call them philosophers--not even the forerunners of Greek
philosophy. More often their point of view was one which the real
philosophic impulse towards self-determination and the freedom of
the soul consciously and decisively rejected, and continued to
reject, though not indeed without occasional wavering and
backsliding. These men must be counted among the magicians and
exorcists who so often appear in the earliest dawn of the spiritual
history of civilized nations, and, as primitive and marvellous types
of the spirit of inquiry, precede the philosophers. They all belong
to the class of ecstatic seers and Kathartic priests.
Legend related how, out of the country of the Hyperboreans, that
distant Wonderland where Apollo hid himself in winter, there came to
Greece one Abaris, sent by the god himself. He was a saint and
needed no earthly food. Carrying in his hand the golden arrow, the
proof of his Apolline origin and mission, he passed through many
lands dispelling sickness and pestilence by sacrifices of a magic
kind, giving warning of earthquakes and other disasters. Even in
later times prophecies and "purifications", going under his name,
were still to be read.[108\9]--This man, and also another like him,
called Aristeas, were already mentioned by Pindar (_fr._ 271).
Aristeas, a man of high rank in his native city of Prokonnesos, had
the magic gift of prolonged _ekstasis_. When his soul left his body
behind, being "seized by Phoibos", it (as his second self made
visible) was seen in distant places.[109\9] As Apollo's attendant he
also appeared together with the god in Metapontum. A bronze statue
in the market-place of that city remained to testify to his presence
there, and to the astonishment awakened by his inspired
utterances.[110\9] But among all these examples of the type,[111\9]
Hermotimos of Klazomenai is the most striking. His soul could desert
his body "for many years", and on its return from its ecstatic
voyages, brought with it much mantic lore and knowledge of the
future. At last, enemies set fire to the tenantless body of
Hermotimos when his soul was away, and the latter returned no
more.[112\9]
The greatest master of all these magically gifted men was, {301}
according to tradition, Epimenides. His home was in Crete, an
ancient centre of Kathartic wisdom,[113\9] where Epimenides was
instructed in this lore as an adherent of the cult of the underworld
Zeus.[114\9] Through a mist of legend and fable we hear of his
prolonged stay in the mysterious cave of Zeus on Mt. Ida, his
intercourse with the spirits of the darkness, his severe
fasting,[115\9] the long ecstasy of his soul,[116\9] and his final
return from solitude to the light of day, much experienced and
far-travelled in "enthusiastic wisdom".[117\9] Next he journeyed
through many lands bringing his health-giving arts with him,
prophesying the future as an ecstatic seer,[118\9] interpreting the
hidden meaning of past occurrences, and as Kathartic priest
expelling the daimonic evils that arose from specially foul misdeeds
of the past. The Kathartic activity of Epimenides in Delos and other
Greek cities was famous.[119\9] It was in particular never forgotten
how in Athens at the end of the seventh century he brought to a
satisfactory close the expiation of the godless murder of the
followers of Kylon.[120\9] With potent ceremonies of which his
wisdom alone knew the secret, with sacrifice of animals and men, he
appeased[121\9] the anger of the offended spirits of the depth who
in their rage were "polluting" and harming the city . . .
It was not without reason that later tradition, undeterred by
questions of chronological possibility, brought all the names just
mentioned into connexion with Pythagoras or his adherents,[122\9]
and was even accustomed to refer to Pherekydes of Syros, the latest
of the band, as the teacher of Pythagoras. The practice, if not the
philosophy, of the Pythagorean sect grew up among the ideas and what
may be called the teaching of these men, and belongs to the epoch
which honoured them as Wise Men. We still possess a few scraps of
evidence to show that the conceptions guiding their life and work
tended to reach some sort of unification in the minds of these
visionaries who were yet something more than the mere practicians of
a magical species of religion. We cannot, indeed, tell how far the
fanciful pictures of the origin of the world of men which
Epimenides[123\9] and Pherekydes drew were connected with the
business and professional activity of these men;[124\9] but when it
is related of Hermotimos that he, like his country-man Anaxagoras,
attempted a distinction between pure "mind" and matter,[125\9] we
can see very clearly how this theory might arise out of his special
"experiences". The ecstasies of the soul of which Hermotimos himself
and this whole generation had such ample experience seemed to point
to the separability of the soul from the body[126\9]--and, indeed,
to the superiority of {302} the soul's essence in its separate state
over that of the body--as to a fact of the most firmly established
authenticity. In contrast with the soul the body could hardly help
appearing as an encumbrance, an obstacle to be got rid of. The
conception of an ever-threatening pollution and "uncleanness" which
was nourished by the teaching and activities of those innumerable
purification-priests of whom Epimenides is known to us as the
supreme master, had gradually so penetrated the whole of the
official religion itself with purification-ceremonies that it might
very well have seemed as though, in the midst of this renovation and
development of a type of religious thought that had been more than
half forgotten in the Homeric period, Greek religion was fast
approaching the condition of Brahmanism or Zoroastrianism and
becoming essentially a religion of purification. Those who had
become familiar with the contrast between body and soul, especially
if they lived in the atmosphere of Kathartic ideas and their
practical exercise, were almost bound to proceed to the idea that
even the "soul" required to be purified from the polluting
embarrassment of the body. That such ideas were almost a commonplace
is shown by many stories and turns of phrase which represent the
destruction of the body by fire as a "purification" of the man
himself.[127\9] Wherever these ideas--the precise opposite and
contrary of the Homeric conception of the relation between body and
soul-image--had penetrated more deeply they must have led to the
idea that even in the lifetime of the body the purification of the
soul should be prepared by the denial and inhibition of the body and
its impulses. The first step was thus taken towards a purely
negative system of morality, not attempting the inner reformation of
the will, but aiming simply at averting from the soul of man a
polluting evil threatening it from without--in fact to a morality of
religious _asceticism_ such as later became such an important and
decisive spiritual movement in Greece. In spite of all the
inadequacy of our information about these Wise Men of the early
pre-philosophic period, we can still dimly make out the fact that
their natural bent lay in this ascetic direction (the abstention
from food practised by Abaris and Epimenides are distinct cases of
it).[128\9] How far, exactly, they went in this direction is indeed
more than we can say.
Thus, the ascetic ideal was not absent even from Greece. It
remained, however--in spite of the influence it had in some
quarters--always a foreign thing in Greece, having its obscure home
among sects of spiritualistic enthusiasts, and regarded in contrast
with the normal and ruling view of life, as a paradox, {303} almost
a heresy. The official religion itself is not entirely without the
seeds of an ascetic system of morality; but the ascetic ideal, fully
developed and distinguished from the simple and normal religious
attitude, was in Greece found only among minorities who cut
themselves off in closed and exclusive conventicles of a theological
or philosophical temper. The "Wise Men" as idealized in the legends
of Abaris. Epimenides, etc., were as individuals not far removed
from the ideal of asceticism. Nor was it long before the attempt was
made to use these ideals as the basis on which to found a society.
NOTES TO CHAPTER IX
[1\9: We may safely take it for granted that ~Dio/nusos~ is the
_Greek_ name of the god, though a completely convincing etymology
for the word has yet to be found. Recent attempts to derive it from
the Thracian language are not very convincing. (Tomaschek, _Sitzber.
Wien. Ak._ 130, 41; Kretschmer, _Aus der Anomia_, 22 f.; _Einl._
241.) Acc. to Kretschmer a Thracian origin for the name is proved by
the appearance of the form ~Deo/nuso~--on inss. found in a few Greek
towns surrounded by Thracian influences, e.g. Abdera, Maroneia. Acc.
to him the transition from ~i~ to ~e~ before a vowel is regular in
Thrako-Phrygian, while on the other hand "it is completely
incompatible with all the laws of Greek phonetics". Others have
disagreed with this view, e.g. G. Curtius, certainly an _auctor
probabilis_, to whom the occasional appearance of the transition
from ~i~ to ~e~ before a vowel (side by side with the much commoner
reverse process) seemed quite compatible with the laws of Greek
phonetics. He even counted ~Dio/nusos--Deu/nusos~ (Anakreon) among
the examples of this vowel change within the limits of the Greek
language (_Gr. Etym._^5, p. 608 f.). At any rate ~Ea/sôn = Ia/sôn~,
and ~patroue/an = patrôi/an~ are certain cases of it (see Meister,
_Gr. Dial._ i, 294; G. Meyer, _Gr. Gramm._^2, p. 162). Kretschmer
himself, _Einl._ 225, supplies ~Asklêpeo/dôros, Dei/ = Dii/~. To
account for these forms he postulates the influence of Thracian
surroundings on Greek pronunciation; but in the case of such a
purely Greek word as ~Asklêpio/dôros~ the Thracian influence must
have been a _secondary_ phenomenon operating to cause the alteration
of the old [=i][=o] into [=e][=o]. Why should we not use the same
explanation in accounting for the change from ~Dio/nusos~ to
~Deo/nusos~ and (_if_ Thracian influence is to be presumed--by no
means probable in view of the statement of _EM._ 259, 30,
~Deo/nusos, hou/tô ga\r _Sa/mioi_ prophe/rousin~) say that this
Thracian influence was a secondary one acting upon the original
_Greek_ form of the name ~Dio/nusos~?--It is evident that the
ancients had no idea that ~Dio/nusos (Diô/nusos, Dio/nnusos)~ was
the indigenous name of the Thracian god, for they would in that case
have said so without hesitation. They derived the conception,
figure, and cult of the god from Thrace but not this particular
name, which they regularly regard as the Greek name of the daimon
whom the Thracians spoke of as ~Saba/zios~ or otherwise. (So too
Hdt. regards ~Dio/nusos~ as the Greek name of the god whose
essential nature is Egyptian.) This is by no means without
importance; on the contrary, it provides cogent reason for doubting
the (otherwise insecurely founded) derivation of the name from the
Thracian.]
[2\9: The women in Boeotia ~entheô/tata ema/nêsan~ (cf. Eur.,
_Ba._). ~tai=s Lakedaimoni/ôn gunaixi\n ene/pese/ tis oi=stros
bakchiko\s kai\ tai=s tô=n Chi/ôn~, Ael., _VH._ iii, 42. Hdt. ix,
34, speaks inclusively of the madness of the women in Argos (~tô=n
en A/rgeï gunaikô=n maneise/ôn~), where others speak only of the
frenzy attacking the daughters of Proitos. Neither is incompatible
with the other; they simply represent two different stages of the
story. The ~mai/nesthai~ which attacks the entire female population
is not (as later accounts generally make out) the punishment sent by
Dionysos: it is simply another way of expressing the general
acceptance of his worship which essentially consisted in {305}
~mai/nesthai (= bakcheu/ein~ in Ant. Lib. 10). The ~mai/nesthai~ of
individual women who try to resist the contagious enthusiasm of the
Dionysiac revelry going on around them (e.g. the daughters of
Eleuther: Suid. ~melanaig. Di/on.~) is, however, a punishment sent
by the angry god when it leads them to murder their own
children.--The regular and widespread "mania" of the newly
introduced cult of Dionysos is referred to also by D.S. 4, 68, 4;
[Apollod.] 2, 2, 2, 5; Paus. 2, 18, 4; cf. also Nonn., _D._ 47, 481
ff.]
[3\9: Resistance of Perseus to Dionysos who in this account arrives
with the Mainads from the islands of the Aegean Sea (so Paus.);
victory of Perseus, followed, however, by a reconciliation with the
god whose worship is established and a temple built for Dionysos
Kresios: Paus. 2, 20, 4; 22, 1; 23, 7-8. So, too, Nonn., _D._ 47,
475-741; [Apollod.] 3, 5, 2, 3; Sch. V., ~X~ 319; cf. Meineke, _An.
Alex._ 51. (Dionysos is slain in the war with Perseus: Dinarchos
"the poet" ap. Eus., _Chr._ ii, pp. 44-5 Sch. = an. 718 Abr.; Lob.,
_Agl._ 537 f.).--Lykourgos does not properly belong to this series:
his legend, as told by [Apollod.] 3, 5, 1 (apparently following the
direction given to it by Aesch.), is a late transformation of the
story preserved by Homer, in which stories of Pentheus or the
Minyads or the Proitides are imitated.]
[4\9: This is esp. clear in the legend dealing with Orchomenos; cf.
the account in Plu., _Q.Gr._ 38, p. 293 D. It is very probable that
the other stories, too, were founded upon sacrificial ritual; cf.
Welcker, _Gr. Götterl._ i, 444 ff.]
[5\9: Cf. also Sch. Ar., _Ach._ 243.]
[6\9: Cf. Eur., _Ba._ 217 ff., 487, 32 ff. The daughters of Minyas
~epo/thoun tou\s game/tas~ (see Perizon. ad loc.) ~kai\ dia\ tou=to
ouk ege/nonto tô=| theô=| maina/des~, Ael., _VH._ iii, 42.
Throughout all these legends the contrast between Dionysos and Hera,
who is the patroness of marriage, is very marked.]
[7\9: ~orsigu/naika Di/onuson~--unknown poet ap. Plu., _Exil._ 17,
p. 607 C; _Smp._ 4, 6, 1, p. 671 C; _E_ ap. _D._ 9, 389 B.
~hi/lathi, eiraphiô=ta, gunaimane/s~, _h. Hom._ 34, 17.]
[8\9: Like an infection or a conflagration. ~ê/dê to/d' eggu\s
hô/ste pu=r epha/ptetai hu/brisma Bakchou=, pso/gos es He/llênas
me/gas~, Pentheus in E., _Ba._ 778.]
[9\9: See the accounts reported ap. Hecker, _Epidemics of the M.A._,
pp. 88, 153 Babington, esp. those of Petrus de Herental (ap. Steph.
Baluz., _Vit. Pap. Avinion._ i, 483): quaedam nomina daemoniorum
appellabant. The dancer cernit Mariae filium et caelum
apertum.--"The masters of the Holy Scripture who exorcized the
dancers regarded them as being possessed by the devil." (Limburg
Chronicle; see _Mon. Germ., Chron._ iv, 1, ed. Tilemann: p. 64, ed.
Wyss.)]
[10\9: Details given by Weniger, _Dionysosdienst in Elis_, p. 8
(1883).]
[11\9: At Delphi there was a festival called ~hêrôï/s~ in which the
Dionysiac _Thyiades_ took part; a ~Seme/lês anagôgê/~ was the chief
feature of the ~drô/mena phanerô=s~ (Plu., _Q.Gr._ 12). The name
~hêrôï/s~ points to a general festival of the dead (cf. Voigt in
Roscher's _Lex._ i, 1048); for another general festival of "Heroes"
at Delphi see chap. iv, n. 82. At Athens the great festival of the
dead, the Choes and Chytrai (chap. v, p. 168) formed part of the
Anthesteria. It is precisely in these ~archaio/tera Dionu/sia~
(Thuc. ii, 15, 4) that Dionysos appears as he was in primitive
belief, the "master of the souls". Thus, too, in Argos one of the
most ancient seats of the worship of Dionysos, the Dionysiac
festival of the Agriania was at the same time a festival {306} of
the dead, ~neku/sia~: Hsch., ~agria/nia~ (it was specially ~epi\
mia=| tô=n Proi/tou thugate/rôn~ [Iphinoë: Apollod. 2, 22, 8], Hsch.
s.v.: even so it was a festival of the dead).--In Plu., _E ap. D._
9, 389 A, in view of the hopeless confusion shown by Plutarch in
that chapter between Delphic cult-procedure and the opinions of
certain unspecified ~theolo/goi~, it is unfortunately impossible to
say with certainty whether it is the Delphians who ~Dio/nuson kai\
Zagre/a kai\ Nukte/lion kai\ Isodai/tên onoma/zousin~ or whether
this only applies to the ~theolo/goi~ (in which case they are
probably Orphics).]
[12\9: The _Agrionia_ to the "savage" god (~ômêstê\s kai\
agriô/nios~ as contrasted with the ~charido/tês kai\ meili/chios~,
Plu., _Ant._ 24) were celebrated in Thebes and Argos. ~agriô/nia
kai\ nukte/lia hô=n ta\ polla\ dia\ sko/tous dra=tai~ are opposed to
the ~olu/mpia hiera/~, by Plu., _QR._ 112, p. 291 A. Bacchic din,
~pso/phos~, at the ~nukte/lia~, Plu., _Smp._ 4, 6, p. 672 A.--Temple
of D. ~Nukte/lios~ at Megara: Paus. 1, 40, 6. Nocturnal festivities
(~nu/ktôr ta\ polla\~, Eur., _Ba._ 486) at the Dionysia at Lerna =
Paus. 2, 37, 6, at the festival of ~Dio/nusos Lamptê/r~ in Pellone:
Paus. 7, 27, 3. ~o/rgia~ of D. at Melangeia in Arcadia 8, 6, 5; at
Heraia 8, 26, 1. The orgiastic cult of D. seems to have been
preserved particularly in Sparta. We hear of the ~oi=stros
bakchiko/s~ that once attacked the women of Sparta from Aelian,
_VH._ iii, 42; some lines of Alkman (_fr._ 34) allude to the
fanatical Bacchic revels on the mountain tops (quite misunderstood
by Welcker, _Kl. Schr._ iv, 49). It became proverbial: virginibus
bacchata Lacaenis Taygeta, Vg., _G._ ii, 487. A special word is
applied to the Bacchic fury of these Spartan Mainads: ~du/smainai~
(Philarg. on Vg., _G._ ii, 487; Hsch. s.v.; Meineke, _An. Alex._
360). In view of these ecstatic mountain-revels we need not be
surprised at the prohibition of drunken roaming about the city and
countryside, of which Pl., _Lg._ 637 AB speaks.]
[13\9: Welcker, _Gr. Götterl._ i, 444.--But human sacrifice in the
Thracian worship of D. is nevertheless suggested by the remarkable
story of Porph. (_Abs._ ii, 8) about the ~Ba/ssaroi~ (whom he seems
to take for a Thracian tribe.]
[14\9: Clem. Al., Arn., Firm. all speak of the ~ômophagi/a~ of the
Bakchai as a still-prevailing cult-practice. Bernays, _Heraklit.
Briefe_, 73. Galen, too, speaks in the same way of the tearing in
pieces of snakes at the Bacchic festivals (quoted Lob., _Agl._ 271
a; to snare vipers ~ka/llisto/s esti kairo/s, ho\n kai\ auto\s ho
Andro/machos~ (79 ff. of his poem) ~edê/lôsen, hêni/ka kai\ hoi tô=|
Dionu/sô| bakcheu/ontes eiô/thasi diaspa=n ta\s echi/dnas,
pauome/nou me\n tou= hê=ros ou/pô d' êrgme/nou tou= the/rous~
(_Antid._ i, 8 = xiv, p. 45 K.). ~hêni/ka--echi/dnas~ are Gal.'s
words not Andromachos'. Cf. also Prud., _Sym._ i, 130 ff.]
[15\9: We need only recall the remarkable story of Hdt. (iv, 79)
about the Scythian king who in Borysthenes was initiated into the
mysteries of Dionysos Bakcheios ~ho\s mai/nesthai ena/gei
anthrô/pous~. His Scythian subjects took exception to this. For them
the religion was specifically Greek, A Borysthenite says to the
Scythians: ~hêmô=n ga\r katagela=te, ô= Sku/thai, ho/ti bakcheu/omen
kai\ hêma=s ho theo\s _lamba/nei_. nu=n hou=tos ho dai/môn kai\ to\n
hume/teron basile/a lela/bêke kai\ bakcheu/ei kai\ hupo\ tou= theou=
_mai/netai_.~]
[16\9: Cf. the remarkable account given by Plu., _Mul. Virt._ 11, p.
249 B; _fr. de An._ ap. Gell. 15, 10; Polyaen. 8, 63; and Lucian in
_H.Conscr._ (25), 1.]
[17\9: Of a different description are the attacks of temporary
insanity accompanied by similar features but not religious in
complexion described by Aretaeus, p. 82 K., and Gal. vii, pp. 60-1
K. (the case of Theophilos).] {307}
[18\9: Phenomena of ~korubantiasmo/s~: hearing the sound of flutes
Pl., _Crit._ 54 D, Max. T., _Diss._ 38, 2, p. 220 R.; cf. Cic.,
_Div._ i, 114; seeing ~phantasi/ai~, D.H., _Dem._ 22. It is this
waking dream-condition, a condition related to hypnosis, which Pliny
probably means: patentibus oculis dormiunt multi homines, quos
corybantiare Graeci dicunt, _NH._ xi, 147. Excitement, beating
heart, weeping: Pl., _Smp._ 215 E. Maddened dance: ~hoi
korubantiô=ntes ouk e/mphrones o/ntes orchou=ntai~, _Ion_, 534 A.
"Sober drunkenness" ~me/thê nêpha/lios~ of the ~korub.~, Philo,
_Mund. Op._ 23, i, p. 16 M.--The name shows that those attacked by
the disease were regarded as "possessed" by the Korybantes.
~korubantia=n to\ Koru/basi kate/chesthai~, Sch. Ar., _V._ 9. The
Korybantes ~mani/as kai\ entheiasmou= eisin empoiêtikoi/~, ib. 8.
~e/ntheos ek semnô=n Koruba/ntôn~, E., _Hip._ 142; Sch. ad loc.:
~Koru/bantes mani/as ai/tioi. e/nthen kai\ koruba/ntia=n~.--Arrian
gives an unusually good account of the Korybantic frenzy of the
Phrygians in a little noticed passage ap. Eust. on D.P. 809:
~mai/nontai tê=| Rhe/a| kai\ pro\s Koruba/ntôn kate/chontai, ê/goun
korubantiô=si daimonô=ntes~ (i.e. possessed by the ~dai/môn~, see
Usener, _Götternamen_, 293). ~ho/tan de\ kata/schê| autou\s to\
thei=on, elauno/menoi kai\ me/ga boô=ntes kai\ orchou/menoi
prothespi/zousi ta\ me/llonta, theophorou/menoi kai\ maino/menoi~.
The complete similarity between this condition and that of the
Bacchic worship is sufficiently obvious.]
[19\9: Use of dance and music to cure those who are attacked by
Korybantic excitement: Pl., _Lg._ 790 DE, 791 A. More especially the
melodies for the flute composed by Olympos, being ~thei=a~, were
able to discover and cure those liable to Korybantic _ekstasis_ (by
means of the _inspiring_ effect which they had on such persons).
This is shown particularly by a passage in Plato (_Smp._ 215 C-E);
where it is evident that the ~korubantiô=ntes~ of 215 E are not to
be distinguished from the ~theô=n kai\ teletô=n deo/menoi~ of 215 C
(C states the general rule of which E is a particular application).
This homoeopathic cure of the ~korubantiô=ntes~ by the
intensification and subsequent discharge of the disorder is implied
in all that we hear of the character of the Phrygian mode as
~enthousiastikê/~ and of the ~me/lê Olu/mpou~ as exciting the souls
of men to "_enthousiasmos_"; Arist., _Pol._ 1340b, 4, 5, 1342b, 1
ff., 1340a, 8; [Pl.], _Min._ 318 B; Cic., _Div._ i, 114. The
~korubantiô=ntes~ are also meant in Arist., _Pol._ 8, 7, 1342a, 7 ff
~. . . kai\ ga\r hupo\ tau/tês tê=s kinê/seôs~ (i.e. ~tou=
enthousiasmou=) katakô/chimoi/ tine/s eisin; ek de\ tô=n hierô=n
melô=n horô=men tou/tous, ho/tan chrê/sôntai toi=s orgia/zousi tê\n
psuchê\n me/lesi, kathistame/nous hô/sper iatrei/as tucho/ntas kai\
katha/rseôs~. Plato's analysis (_Lg._ 790 D ff.) is exactly
parallel: the cure for the ~manikai\ diathe/seis~ of the Korybantic
patients is ~ouch hêsuchi/a alla\ tounanti/on ki/nêsis~, whereby
they are assisted to regain their ~he/xeis e/mphrones~. (It is from
this religio-musical procedure and not from strictly medical
experience or practice that Aristotle, taking a hint from Plato,
_Rp._ 606, derived his idea of the ~ka/tharsis tô=n pathêma/tôn~ by
violent discharge of the emotions and transferred it to
tragedy--not, as in the explanation to which some have recently
returned, by a tranquilization of the emotions in "a final
reconciliation".) This ~ka/tharsis~ and ~iatrei/a~ of the
~korubantiô=ntes~ is the object of the initiation ceremony of the
Korybantes (whose true ~ba/kchoi~ are the ~korubantiô=ntes~, i.e.
the worshippers who are in need of and capable of cure; of the
~Koruba/ntôn mustê/ria~ which are held ~epi\ katharmô=| tê=s
mani/as~ (Sch. Ar., _V._ 119-20, ~ekoruba/ntize~); cf. the ~teletê\
tô=n Koruba/ntôn~ (Pl., _Euthd._ 277 D, including ~_thro/nôsis_~: D.
Chr. 12, p. 388 R., § 33 Arn.; Lob., _Agl._ 116, 369. There is a
parody of ~thro/nôsis~ in the initiation scene of Ar., _Nub._ 254,
where Streps. sits ~epi\ to\n hiero\n ski/mpoda. tethronisme/nos
toi=s theoi=s~ = initiated {308} in _P. Mag. Lond._ 747 f. = Kenyon,
_Greek Papyri in B.M._ i, p. 108); and cf. the ~mêtrô=|a kai\
korubantika\ te/lê~: D.H., _Dem._ 22. At the initiation ceremony
(~korubantismo/s; ka/tharsis mani/as~ Hsch.) held in the
~Korubantei=on~ (Hdn. Gr. 1, 375, 15 Lentz; _App. Prov._ ii, 23) the
famous music of "inspiration" was played; there was also ~chorei/a~
(Pl. _Euthd._), ~ê=choi~ e.g. the sound of ~tu/mpana~ (Ar., _Ves._
120 f.; Luc. _DD._ 12, 1), and also it appears incense-burning:
~osmai/~, D.H., _Dem._ 22; cf. above, chap. viii, n. 39. All these
stimulants intensified the pathological tendency of the
~korubantiô=ntes~ and gave them relief by the violent discharge of
their emotions.--There is no need to doubt the actual occurrence of
such pathological states and their medical treatment by music, etc.
It was clearly the same type of psychopathical malady that invaded
Italy in the Middle Ages under the name of Tarantism, repeating its
attacks for several centuries; in this case, too, music (and even
the sound of a particular melody) served both to excite and
eventually to cure the violent dance-mania; cf. Hecker 172, 176
ff.--There seems to be a fabulous element in other stories current
in antiquity about the cure of madness, love-passions, and even
sciatica by the music of the flute (Pythagoras, Empedokles, Damon,
Thphr. _fr._ 87). Such belief in the curative powers of music, esp.
of the flute, seems to have been derived originally from actual
experience of the ~katha/rseis~ practised in Korybantic festivals,
and then to have been exaggerated into a fable. Even doctors had no
doubt that ~mani/a~ was curable by the _cantiones tibiarum_; see
Cael. Aur., _Morb. Chr._ i, 5, 175, 178 (Asklepiades); Cael. Aur.
(i.e. Soranos), ib. 176, however, denies it. It depended entirely
upon the theory, originally derived from ~korubantismo/s~, of cure
by intensification and discharge of the emotional state.]
[20\9: ~ô= ma/kar ho/stis . . . thiaseu/etai psucha/n, en o/ressi
bakcheu/ôn, hosi/ois _katharmoi=sin_~, E., _Ba._ 72 ff.--dicunt
sacra Liberi ad purgationem animae pertinere Serv. on Vg., _G._ ii,
389; cf. also on _A._ vi, 741.]
[21\9: ~Dio/nusos _lu/sios_~ (like ~D. meili/chios eleuthereu/s~ and
~saô/tês~) is rightly taken as the "freer from orgiastic frenzy"
(and not in the ordinary political sense) by Klausen, _Orpheus_, p.
26 [Ersch-Gruber] and Voigt in Roscher's _Lex._ i, 1062. That this
is the proper meaning of ~lu/sios~ is shown by its being contrasted
with ~bakchei=os~, which by common consent means the god ~ho\s
mai/nesthai ena/gei anthrô/pous~ (Hdt.); e.g. in Korinth, Paus. 2,
2, 6; Sikyon, Paus. 2, 7, 5-6. And ~D. bakcheu/s~ and ~meili/chios~
in Naxos, _Ath._ iii, 78 C.]
[22\9: In the ~kata/logos gunaikô=n~ as it seems; _fr._ 54 Rz. But
perhaps also in the _Melampodia_ (_fr._ 184 Kink.).]
[23\9: ~ema/nêsan, hôs Hêsi/odo/s phêsin, ho/ti ta\s Dionu/sou
teleta\s ou katede/chonto~. [Apollod.] 2, 2, 2, 2, and cf. 1, 9, 12,
8. The same story (only with the name Anaxagoras substituted for
that of his grandfather Proitos--doubtless on chronological grounds)
with the words ~ta\s Argei/as gunai=kas manei/sas dia\ tê\n
Dionu/sou mê=nin~: D.S. 4, 68, 4. (~mani/a~--in the reign of
Anaxagoras--Paus. 2, 18, 4; Eust., on _B_ 568, p. 288,
28).--Otherwise, it is generally Hera who sends the ~mani/a~
Akousil. ap. [Apollod.] 2, 2, 2, 2 [_fr._ 14 Diels]. Pherekyd. ap.
Sch. on ~o~ 225. Probus and Serv. on _Ecl._ vi, 48. This is a later
version of the legend depending upon a different interpretation of
the "insanity".]
[24\9: [Apollod.] 2, 2, 2. Acc. to Hdt. ix, 34, the treatment of
Melamp. was applied generally to all the ~Argei=ai gunai=kes~ (who
acc. to [Apollod.] § 5, were also attacked by the madness); cf. D.S.
4, 68, 4. (~. . . ta\s Argei/as ê\ hô/s tines ma=llo/n phasi, ta\s
Proiti/das~ Eustath. ~kata\ tê\n histori/an~). ~therapeu/ein~ is
D.S.' word; ~eka/thêren~, Sch. Pi., _N._ ix, 30; _purgavit_ Serv.]
{309}
[25\9: ~Mela/mpous paralabô\n tou\s dunatôta/tous tô=n neaniô=n
_met' alalagmou= kai/ tinos enthe/ou chorei/as_ ek tô=n orô=n auta\s
es Sikuô=na sunedi/ôxe~ (i.e. the frenzied women who had eventually
become very numerous: § 5, 6) [Apollod.] 2, 2, 2, 7. The account in
Pl., _Phdr._ 244 D, E, corresponds closely with the proceedings of
Melampous and perhaps refers to them: ~alla\ mê\n no/sôn ge kai\
po/nôn tô=n megi/stôn, ha\ dê\ palaiô=n ek mênima/tôn pothe\n e/n
tisi tô=n genô=n hê mani/a eggenome/nê kai\ prophêteu/sasa hoi=s
e/dei apallagê\n heu/reto, kataphugou=sa pro\s theô=n eucha/s te
kai\ latrei/as, ho/then dê\ _katharmô=n_ te kai\ teletô=n tuchou=sa
exa/ntê epoi/êse to\n heautê=s e/chonta pro/s te to\n paro/nta kai\
to\n e/peita chro/non, lu/sin tô=| orthô=s _mane/nti kai\
kataschome/nô|_ tô=n paro/ntôn kakô=n heurome/nê~. This is a
description of the remedial methods used in the Bacchic and
Korybantic _enthousiasmos_ but applied to special circumstances of
the mythical past which are regarded as the standard of all later
kathartic methods.]
[26\9: ~katharmoi/~ [Apollod.] § 8. The regular kathartic materials
are ~ski/lla, **a/sphaltos~, water, etc.; Diphilus, _fr._ 126 K.,
employs them all for his own purpose, ap. Clem. Al., _Str._ vii, p.
844 P. The black hellebore (~elle/boros me/las~) was popularly known
as ~melampo/dion~ because Melampous had first gathered and employed
it for the purpose (Thphr., _HP._ 9, 10, 4), esp. when he cured and
purified the ~Proi/tou thugate/ras manei/sas~ (Gal., _Atrabile_ 7 =
v, p. 132 K.; it can only be by mistake that he calls it the white
hellebore; cf. also Diosc. 4, 149, where the old ~kathartê/s~
becomes ~Mela/mpous tis aipo/los~ [hence Plin., _NH._ 25, 47]; the
reason may be elicited from Thphr., _HP._ 9, 10, 2). The place where
the ~katharmoi/~ took place and where the ~katha/rsia~ were thrown
away differed acc. to the natural features of the locality and the
convenience they offered: thus in Arcadia it was at Lousoi, in Elis
at the river Anigros, etc.; Ov., _M._ xv, 322 ff.; Vitr. 8, 3, 21;
Paus. 5, 5, 10; 8, 18, 7-8; cf. Call., _H. Art._ 233 f.; Str. 346,
etc.]
[27\9: Melampous ~He/llêsin ho exêgêsa/menos tou= Dionu/sou to/ te
ou/noma kai\ tê\n thusi/ên kai\ tê\n pompê\n tou= phallou=~, Hdt.
ii, 49. Hdt.'s elaborate theory in this passage of a connexion
between Mel. and Egypt, etc., is of course historically quite
worthless, but the fact that he pitched upon Melamp. especially as
the introducer of the Dionysiac religion can only have been due to
the existence of ancient tradition (i.e. legendary tradition of
course). There can be no doubt that he, like Hesiod, regarded as
_Dionysiac_ the frenzy in which the Argive women were said
~manê=nai~ and to have been healed by Melamp. (ix, 34).]
[28\9: ~Mela/mpous phi/ltatos ô\n Apo/llôni~, Hes., _Eoiai_, (168
Rz.) ap. Sch. A.R. i, 118. ~phi/los Apo/llôni~, D.S, 6, 7, 7 Dind.
The poet of the family tree of the Melampodidai given in ~o~ 244 ff.
undoubtedly regarded Melamp. as an Apolline ~ma/ntis~ (like all
~ma/nteis~ in Homer). This poet at least knows nothing of the
Dionysiac side of Melampous' activities. How Mel. met Apollo on the
banks of the Alphaios and from him received his consecration as true
~ma/ntis~, we learn from [Apollod.] 1, 9, 11, 3. The same is said of
Polypheides, a descendant of Mel. ~o~ 252: ~auta\r hupe/rthumon
Poluphei/dea ma/ntin Apo/llôn thê=ke brotô=n o/ch' a/riston, epei\
tha/nen Amphia/ros~. Another descendant of Melamp., Polyeidos, comes
to Megara to purify Alkathoös from the murder of his son, and founds
there a temple of _Dionysos_: Paus. 1, 43, 4.]
[29\9: See above, chap. iii, n. 32.]
[30\9: Plu., _Is. et O._ 35, p. 365 A. Sacrifice made by Agamemnon
to Dionysos ~en muchoi=s Delphini/ou par' a/ntra kerdô/|ou theou=~,
Lyc. 207 ff.]
[31\9: Plu., _E ap. D._ ix, p. 388 F. Three winter months were
sacred to Dionysos (cf. the three chief Dionysiac festivals at
Athens which {310} occurred in the months Gamelion, Anthesterion,
Elaphebolion). Only during these three months is the god on earth.
So, too, Kore shared her rule over the underworld with Aïdoneus for
three months (or six); the rest of the year she is on earth ~para\
mêtri\ kai\ a/llois athana/toisi~.]
[32\9: ~Dionu/sô| tô=n Delphô=n oude\n hê=tton ê\ tô=| Apo/llôni
me/testin~, Plu., _E ap. D._ ix, 384 D.]
[33\9: ~ta\ de\ nephô=n te/ estin anôte/rô ta\ a/kra (tou=
Parnasou=), kai\ hai Thuia/des epi\ tou/tois tô=| Dionu/sô| _kai\
tô=| Apo/llôni_ mai/nontai~, Paus. 10, 32, 7. Parnasus gemino petit
aethera colle, mons Phoebo Bromioque sacer, cui numine mixto
Delphica Thebanae referunt trieterica Bacchae, Luc., v, 72 ff. We
hear of a Delphos the son of Apollo and Thyia the first priestess
and Mainad of Dionysos at Delphi: Paus. 10, 6, 4.]
[34\9: Apollo himself in an oracular command ~Puthia/sin
pentetê/roisin . . . e/taxe Ba/kchou thusi/an chorô=n te pollô=n
kukli/an a/millan~; so says Philodamos of Skarpheia in the Paian
(second half fourth century B.C.) _BCH._ 1895, p. 408. We must
suppose, too, that this command (i.e. decree of the Delphic
priesthood) was actually carried out.]
[35\9: ~Delphoi\ de\ diplê=| prosêgori/a| timô=sin (se/~, i.e.
Apollo), ~Apo/llôna kai\ Dio/nuson le/gontes~, Men. Rhet., p. 446, 5
Sp.]
[36\9: _Arg._, Sch. Pi., _P._, p. 297, Böckh [p. 2, 5 ff. Drch.]: ~.
. . tou= prophêtikou= tri/podos~ (in Delphi) ~en hô=| prô=tos
Dio/nusos ethemi/steuse~. And again ~. . da/ktulon~ (a part of the
~no/mos Puthiko/s) apo\ Dionu/sou, ho/ti prô=tos hou=tos dokei= apo\
tou= tri/podos themisteu=sai~. As it has been previously said that
at the Delphic ~mantei=on _prô/tê_ Nu\x echrêsmô/|dêsen~, Dionysos
seems to be here regarded as ~pro/mantis~ of Nyx. Thus, at Megara
there was a temple of ~Dio/nusos Nukte/lios~ in the immediate
neighbourhood of, and in all probability closely associated with a
~Nukto\s mantei=on~: Paus. 1, 40, 6.]
[37\9: Paus. 1, 2, 5; Ribbeck, _Anf. d. Dionysoscult in Att._, p. 8
(1869); cf. Dem. 21, 52. Regulation of a festival of Dionysos in
Kolone by the Oracle: Paus. 3, 13, 7; in Alea, Paus. 8, 23, 1 (at
which women were scourged, a substitution for primitive human
sacrifice, as at the ~diamasti/gôsis~ in Sparta, of which Paus. is
reminded). Introduction of the worship of ~Dio/nusos Phallê/n~ at
Methymna by the oracle: Paus. 10, 19, 3.--At Magnesia on the
Maeander a plane-tree split by a storm revealed a statue of Dionysos
(a true ~Dio/nusos e/ndendros~). The Delphic oracle commanded the
ambassadors sent by the city to build a temple to Dionysos (who had
hitherto been without one in Magnesia and put a priest in charge of
it; then, for the institution of the cult they were to introduce
from Thebes Mainads of the family of Ino: ~Maina/das hai\ geneê=s
Einou=s a/po Kadmêei/ês~. (The cult of Dionysos was evidently
traditional at Thebes in this family which traced its descent from
Ino, the foster-mother of Dionysos.) The three Mainads obtained from
Thebes (called Kosko, Baubo, and Thettale instituted the cult of the
god and founded three ~thi/asoi~ arranged according to locality
(there were three ~thi/asoi~ in Thebes, too, E., _Ba._ 680 ff.).
They themselves remained in Magnesia till their death and were
buried with great ceremony by the city, Kosko on the "Hill of
Kosko", Baubo ~en Taba/rnei~, Thettale ~pro\s tô=| the/atrô|~. See
the ~archai=os chrêsmo/s~ with explanatory notes in prose, restored
by ~Apollô/neios Moko/llês, archai=os mu/stês~ (of Dionysos): _Ath.
Mitth._ 15 (1890), p. 331 f.]
[38\9: See Rapp, _Rhein. Mus._ 27. In spite of his quite correct
emphasis in general upon the ritual and purely formal character of
this sacred embassy and the dance-festival that followed, Rapp makes
the mistake of underestimating the ecstatic side of the Dionysiac
festivals--a side {311} which was once predominant and was always
liable to recur. (If this element had not been real there would have
been no need for a symbolical ritualistic imitation of such
~e/kstasis~). How even in later times a true ekstasis and
self-forgetfulness seized upon the Thyiades in their sacred
night-festivals and in consequence of the numerous stimulating
influences of the occasion, we can learn very clearly from
Plutarch's description of the Thyiads who wandered in their frenzy
to Amphissa (_Mul. Virt._ 13, 249 E). Rapp., p. 22, tries in vain to
upset the historical value of this account. Other points have
already been mentioned incidentally.]
[39\9: ~hê\n dia\ mantosu/nên tê\n hoi= po/re Phoi=bos Apo/llôn~ ~A~
72.]
[40\9: ~to\ a/technon kai\ adi/dakton (tê=s mantikê=s) toute/stin
enu/pnia kai\ enthousiasmou/s~ [Plu.] _Vit. Poes. Hom._ ii, 212. The
only form known to Homer is ~hê tô=n _emphro/nôn_ zê/têsis tou=
me/llontos dia/ te orni/thôn poioume/nê kai\ tô=n a/llôn sêmei/ôn~
(Pl., _Phdr._ 244 C).]
[41\9: The Ps.-Plutarch of the last note does, however, find in
Theoklymenos' position among the suitors, ~u~ 345-57 (in any case a
passage added by a later hand), a proof that he is an ~_e/ntheos_
ma/ntis, e/k tinos epipnoi/as sêmai/nôn ta\ me/llonta~. But in that
story the abnormal state belongs rather to the suitors than the
seer. See Lob., _Agl._ 264. Still less can we (with Welcker,
_Götterl._ ii, 11) deduce Homer's knowledge of ecstatic prophecy
from ~A~ 91 ff. or ~Ê~ 34-53. The derivation of the word ~ma/ntis~
from ~mai/nesthai~, frequently repeated since the time of Plato,
would make the ecstatic element predominant in the idea of the
prophet. But this derivation is quite uncertain and a connexion with
~manu/ô~ is much more probable.]
[42\9: Pytho: ~th~ 80, ~I~ 405. Dodona: ~P~ 234, ~x~ 327 f., ~t~ 296
f. An oracle is questioned perhaps in ~p~ 402 f. See Nägelsbach,
_Hom. Theol._, p. 181 f.]
[43\9: See Lob., _Agl._ 814 f. (even the regular use of the
expressions ~anei=len ho theo/s, hê puthi/a~ suffice to prove it).
Cf. also Bgk., _Gr. Lit._ i, 334. _h. Hom. Merc._ in its own fashion
(552-66) tells how the god deserted the "lot" oracle at Delphi as
too unreliable and unworthy of the god.]
[44\9: Even the case of Helenos is no real example of this: ~Ê~ 44
([Plu.] _Vit. Hom._ ii, 212, seems to regard it as one). Cic., _Div._
i, 89, expressly distinguishes the prophesying of Helenos from the
"enthusiastic" frenzy of Kassandra.]
[45\9: Even the _h. Hom. Merc._ to the Pythian Apollo, though it
describes the institution of the cult and oracle of Apollo at
Delphi, nowhere mentions the Pythia (as Lob., _Agl._ 264, very
pertinently remarks). (Acc. to 306 f. we must suppose that at that
time the prophesying was done exclusively by male ~ma/nteis~ or
~prophê=tai~.)]