CHAPTER III.

_Ethical aspect of Græco-Roman Society in the period

of Plutarch: difficulty of obtaining an impartial view

of it—Revival of moral earnestness concurrent with the

establishment of the Empire: the reforms of Augustus a

formal expression of actual tendencies—Evidences of this in

philosophical and general literature—The differences between

various Schools modified by the importance of the ethical end

to which all their efforts were directed—Endeavour made to base

morality on sanctions already consecrated by the philosophies

and religious traditions of the Past—Plutarch’s “Ethics” the

result of such an endeavour._

Few ages have left to posterity a character less easy to define, or more

subjected to the ravages of mutually destructive schools of criticism,

than that which gave the Religion of Christ to the Western world, and

witnessed the moulding of Pagan Religion and Philosophy—or rather of

Pagan religions and philosophies—into that systematized shape which

they afterwards presented against the progress of Christianity. Many

ancient and some modern apologists of Christianity have appeared to

think it essential to the honour and glory of their Creed that the

world, before its rise, should be regarded as sunk in iniquity to such a

depth that nothing but a Divine Revelation could serve to elevate and

purify it.[98] It has been maintained, on the other hand, and that too

by Christian writers, that no epoch of Western civilization has been so

marked, not only by the material well-being of the mass of mankind, but

“by virtue in the highest places and by moderation and sobriety in the

ranks beneath,” as that during which the new Creed was generally regarded

as a base and superstitious sort of Atheism.[99] It may be conceded that

the original authors of this period who have been most read in modern

times have easily been construed into vigorous and effective testimony in

support of the former position. The poets and rhetoricians of the Empire

have had their most exaggerated phrases turned into evidence against

the morals of their own days, and their less emphatic expressions have

been regarded as hinting at the perpetration of vices too monstrous to

be more clearly indicated. If, by chance an author has left writings

marked by a lofty conception of morality, and breathing the purest and

most disinterested love of virtue, this very fact has been sufficient

to justify a denial of their Pagan origin, and the assertion that the

true source of their inspiration must have been Judæa. Hence the curious

struggles of many intelligent men to establish a personal connexion

between Paul and Seneca, and to demonstrate that the Ethics of Plutarch

are coloured by Christian modes of thought.[100] Other authors of the

period who furnish material for correcting this one-sided impression

have been less known to the multitude and less consulted by the learned.

Even were the worst true that Juvenal, and Tacitus, and Martial, and

Suetonius, and Petronius have said about Roman courts and Roman society;

even were it not possible to supply a corrective colouring to the picture

from the pages of Seneca, and Lucan, and Pliny, and Persius, and even

Juvenal himself: yet it should be easy to remember that, just as the

Palace of the Cæsars was not the City, so the City was not the Empire.

_Exeat aula qui volet esse pius_ is a maxim that could with advantage

be applied to the sphere of historical criticism as well as to that of

practical Ethics; and if we leave the factions and scandals of the Court

and the City under the worst of the Emperors, and follow Dion into the

huts of lonely herdsmen on the deserted hills of Eubœa, or linger with

Plutarch at some modest gathering of family friends in Athens or the

villages of Bœotia, we shall find innumerable examples of that virtue

which the Republican poet sarcastically denies to the highest rulers.

Even after the long reign of Christianity, vice has been centralized in

the great capitals of civilization; and Rome and Alexandria and Antioch

are not without their parallels among the cities of Modern Europe. In

Alexandria itself, the populace who could listen to discourses like those

of Dion must have been endowed with a considerable capacity for virtue;

the tone of the orator, indeed, frequently reminds us of those modern

preachers who provoke an agreeable sensation of excitement in the minds

of their highly respectable audiences, by depicting them as involved in

such wickedness as only the most daring of mankind would find courage

to perpetrate.[101] We propose to deal elsewhere with the testimony of

Plutarch as to the moral character of the age in which he lived, and at

present confine our observations to the assertion that his “Ethical”

writings are crowded with examples of the purest and most genuine virtue;

not such virtue as shows itself on striking and public occasions only,

but such also as irradiates the daily life of the common people in

their homes and occupations. And although he is, perhaps, in some of

his precepts, a little in advance of the general trend of his times,

inculcating, in these instances, virtues which, though not unpractised

and unknown, are still so far limited in their application that he wishes

to draw them from their shy seclusion in some few better homes, and to

establish them in the broad and popular light of recognized customs;[102]

yet it is clear to every one of the few students of his pages that the

virtues he depicts are the common aim of the people he meets in the

streets and houses of Chæronea, and that the failings he corrects are

the failings of the good people who are not too good to have to struggle

against the temptations incident to humanity. The indications conveyed by

Plutarch and Dion respecting the moral progress of obscure families and

unknown villagers point to the widespread existence through the Empire of

that same strenuous longing after goodness, which had already received

emphatic expression in the writings of philosophers and poets whose

activities had been confined to Rome.

For there can be no doubt that the establishment of the Empire had been

accompanied by a strenuous moral earnestness which is in marked contrast

to the flippant carelessness of the last days of the Republican Era. The

note of despair—despair none the less because its external aspect was

gay and _debonnaire_—so frequently raised by Ovid and Propertius and

Tibullus; the reckless cry, _Interea, dum fata sinunt, jungamus amores;

Iam veniet tenebris Mors adoperta caput_, is the last word of a dying

epoch.[103] These three great poets utter the swan song of the moribund

Republic. Their beliefs are sceptical, or frankly materialistic; they

shut their eyes at the prospect of death to open them on the nearer

charms of the sensual life: devoting their days and their genius to the

pleasures of a passionately voluptuous love of women. In their higher

moods they turn to the Past, but with an antiquarian interest only, like

Ovid and Propertius, or, like Tibullus, to delight in the religious

customs that still linger in the rural parts of Italy, the relics of a

simpler and devouter time. If they turn their thoughts to the Afterworld

at all, it is to depict in glowing verses the conventional charms of the

classic Elysium, or to find occasion for striking description in the

fabled woes of Ixion and Tantalus.[104] Even these descriptions change

by a natural gradation into an appeal for more passionate devotion on

the part of Corinna, or Delia, or Cynthia.[105] If Propertius thinks

of death, it is but to hope that Cynthia will show her regard for his

memory by visiting his tomb in her old age; to regret, with infinite

pathos, the thousands of “dear dead women” who have become the prey of

the Infernal Deities—_sunt apud infernos tot milia formosarum_; to lament

that his deserted mistress will call in vain upon his scattered dust;

or to postpone all consideration of such matters until age shall have

exhausted his capacity for more passionate enjoyment. If he mentions

the mighty political events of his time, it is with the air of one who

watches a triumphal procession while resting his head on his mistress’s

shoulder.[106] But these poets, wrapped in all the physical pleasures

which their age had to supply, are not ignorant of the malady from which

it suffers; they know that their despair and their materialism are born

of the misery of long years of sanguinary strife; and Tibullus, in one

of the sweetest of his Elegies, utters a wish which is the Ave of the

storm-tossed Republic to the approaching peace of the Empire:—_At nobis,

Pax alma, veni._[107]

_Cum domino Pax ista venit._[108] Virgil and Horace are poets of the

Empire, and strike the dominant note of the new epoch. It was not the

mere courtly complaisance of genius for its patrons that led Virgil and

Horace to identify their muse with the religious and moral reforms of

Augustus. It was rather a conscious recognition of the spiritual needs

of the new age which led poets and statesmen alike to further this joint

work. It is the custom to regard the labours of Augustus as resulting

in the superimposition on the social fabric of mere forms and rituals

which would have been appropriate were society only a fabric, but which

were utterly inadequate to serve as anything better than a superficial

ornament to an expanding and developing organism.[109] But, taken

in conjunction with the poems of Virgil and Horace, they show their

real character as outward and visible signs of an inward and spiritual

grace. It is true that Horace at times attributes the disasters from

which his countrymen have suffered to their disregard of the ancient

religious ceremonies; to their neglect of the _templa ædesque labentes

deorum et fœda nigro simulacra fumo_;[110] but in the six famous Odes

which stand at the head of Book III he emphasizes the national necessity

of chastity, fidelity, mercy, loyalty to duty; and he utters not less

emphatic warnings against the general danger from avarice, ambition,

luxury. The essentially religious character of the Æneid is evident to

every reader. That is no mere formalism which inspires with moral vigour

the splendid melodies of the Sixth Book.[111] Although the Poet uses

the conventional machinery of Elysium and Tartarus to emphasize the

contrast between Virtue and Vice by contrasting the fates that await

them hereafter; yet justice, piety, patriotism, chastity, self-devotion;

fidelity to friend and wife and client; filial and fraternal love: never

received advocacy more strenuous and sincere, never were sanctioned

by praise more eloquent, or reprehension more terrible, than in those

immortal verses which it is an impertinence to praise. The question

which presented itself to Augustus, to his ministers and to his poets,

was how to re-invigorate and preserve those qualities by her practice of

which Rome had become _pulcherrima rerum_. And we cannot wonder that an

important part of their answer to this question lay in the direction of

restoring those ancient religious ceremonies and moral practices which

had been most conspicuously displayed when Rome was making her noblest

efforts to accomplish her great destiny. The sanction of antiquity is

the most permanent of all appeals that are ever made to humanity; and,

even in times of revolution, its authority has been invoked by those most

eager to sweep away existing institutions. _Pro magno teste vetustas

creditur._[112] But if Augustus and his friends appealed to antiquity, it

was not merely to recall the shadows of the ancient forms and customs,

but to revivify them with the new life of virtue that was welling up in

their time, and which, in its turn, received external grace and strength

by its embodiment in the ancestral forms.

The strong chord of moral earnestness struck by Horace and Virgil grows

more resonant as the new era advances, until, in literature at least,

it attains the persistence of a dominant. Juvenal is so passionately

moral that he frequently renders himself liable to Horace’s censure of

those who worship virtue too much; but, in his best moods, as in the

famous lines which close the Tenth Satire, he depicts the virtuous man

in a style which is not the less earnest and sincere because it is also

dignified and calm. Persius, whose disposition was marked by maidenly

modesty and gentleness, and who is also described as _frugi et pudicus_,

shows, even when hampered by a disjointed style which only allows him to

utter his thought in fragments, that devotion to the highest moral aims

which we should expect from a writer brought up under the influences

which he enjoyed;[113] and though he, too, exhibits some of the savage

ferocity of Juvenal in his strictures of vice, he yet pays, in his Fifth

Satire, that tribute to virtue in the person of Cornutus which “proves

the goodness of the writer and the gracefulness with which he could

write.”[114] Lucan, too, whose youth, like that of Persius, had the

inestimable advantage of receiving a share of the wisdom which Cornutus

had gained by nights devoted to philosophic studies, exhibits a spirit

of the loftiest morality under the rhetorical phrasing of his great

Republican Epic.[115] Looking back, with something of regret, to the days

of a dominant oligarchy, he does not conceal the licentiousness which

society harboured beneath the sway of the later Optimates, and he turns

mostly to Cato as the type which he would fain accept as representative

of the true Roman patrician:—

“Nam cui crediderim Superos arcana daturos

Dicturosque magis quam sancto vera Catoni?”[116]

The noble lines in which Cato refuses to consult the Libyan oracle—_Non

exploratum populis Ammona relinquens_—are well known, and express a

highly ethical view of the divine administration of the world:—

“Hæremus cuncti superis, temploque tacente

Nil facimus non sponte Dei: nec vocibus ullis

Numen agit: dixitque semel nascentibus auctor

Quicquid scire licet: steriles nec legit arenas

Ut caneret paucis, mersitque hoc pulvere verum.

Estne Dei sedes nisi terra et pontus et aer

Et cælum et virtus? Superos quid quærimus ultra?

Juppiter est quodcunque vides quocunque moveris.”[117]

His biting sarcasms on those who exercise the art of Magic are conceived

in the same spirit of lofty reverence for the Divine Nature,[118] and

he would fain believe in the immortality of the soul as a stimulus to

virtue and self-abnegation in the present life.[119]

The philosophers are marked by the same strenuous seriousness as the

poets. The letters of Seneca to Lucilius are still an Enchiridion for

those that love virtue, and though there were, doubtless, in the ranks of

the philosophers some who deserved the ferocity of Juvenal; some who laid

themselves open to the sarcasms of Seneca’s friend, Marcellinus;[120]

some like Euxenus, an early teacher of Apollonius of Tyana, “who did

not care much to conform the actions of his life” to the tenets of the

philosophy he professed;[121] some who resembled the Cynics who haunted

the streets and temple gates of Alexandria, and did nothing, as Dion

said, “but teach fools to laugh at Philosophy;”[122] yet it is beyond

controversy that philosophers at this time were generally recognized as

the moral teachers of society, and contributed largely, both as domestic

chaplains like Fronto, and evangelistic preachers like Apollonius of

Tyana, to the spread of that virtue whose praise and admiration are so

conspicuous and sincere in the Greek and Roman writers of the period.

The contrast presented by the Sophists, with their artificial graces

and their luxurious lives, only served to emphasize the worth of the

true philosopher, and when a Sophist turned round upon his career, and

determined to lead a virtuous life, he joined the ranks of those who

professed philosophy.[123]

One of the most frequently recurrent signs of the essential love of

virtue exhibited by this age is the constant and strenuous insistence

that practice must conform to profession; and that hypocrisy is almost in

the condition of a cardinal vice. It may, of course, be asserted that the

passionate eagerness displayed touching the importance of being true in

act to the explicit utterances of Philosophy is but a sign of conscious

weakness in well-doing; and that a truer virtue would have given effect

to itself without all this noisy preaching. But a recognition of one’s

own feebleness has subsequently become one of the most lauded elements of

the saintly character, and it is given to very few to blossom gently and

naturally into that goodness which does neither strive nor cry. Juvenal’s

diatribes against the Egnatii of Rome are not very different in language,

and hardly different at all in spirit, from the attacks of New Testament

writers on hypocritical members of the Churches. So far as Greece was

concerned, this love of sincerity was but a return—from a somewhat

distant lapse—to the ideal of personal openness presented in the famous

words of Achilles:—

“For like hell mouth I loath

Who holds not in his words and thoughts one indistinguished troth.”[124]

And not only is practice regarded as the culmination of theory, the

habit formed upon the active principle, Philosophy, but the question

of personal honour is involved in the harmony between creed and deed;

and one mark of distinction between sophist and philosopher is that

the external apparatus of the former—“his contracted brows and studied

gravity of aspect”—do not indicate the possession of the virtues which

are the pride of the latter.[125]

Plutarch frequently lays strenuous weight on this point;[126] Seneca,

Dion, Aurelius, Epictetus, Apuleius, are crowded with sermons on its

importance.[127] And if pure professions are to be carried out into

pure actions, there is a growing sense that neither may impure words

be indulged in, even by those whose lives are pure. Even so far as

the composition of light verse was concerned, a new sensitiveness

was making itself evident. Catullus had said in the old days that a

chaste and pious man might legitimately write verses of a licentious

character, and the catchword had been repeated by all the society poets

down to Martial.[128] But, even when addressing Domitian, Martial, who

asserts that his life is pure, begs the Emperor to regard his lightest

epigrams with the toleration due to the licence of a court jester.

Pliny, the excellent and respectable Pliny, could not read his naughty

hendecasyllables “merely to a few friends in my private chamber” without

subjecting his compositions to serious criticisms in the homes of these

friends, criticisms which he strives to meet by a long display of great

names who have sinned in the same direction; but beneath this display his

uneasiness peeps forth at every word.[129]

The moral reformation officially inaugurated by Augustus appears, in the

light of these indications, as corresponding to an increased tendency to

virtue actually leavening Græco-Roman society. The formal acts of the

Cæsar, the policy of his ministers, the religious sentiment of Horace

and Virgil, the Stoic fervour of Seneca and Lucan, the martyr spirit of

the Thraseas and the Arrias, the tyrannizing morality of Juvenal, the

kindly humanity of Pliny the Younger, the missionary enthusiasm of Dion,

the gentle persuasiveness of Plutarch, are all common indications of

the good that still interfused the Roman world; all point, as indeed,

many other signs also point, to the existence of a widespread belief

that virtuous ideals and virtuous actions were an inheritance of which

mankind ought not to allow itself to be easily deprived. Philosophers

and politicians, as they were at one in recognizing the value of this

heritage, so they were also at one touching the general means by which

its precious elements were to be invigorated and maintained. As we have

already suggested, it is a remarkable characteristic of the philosophic

writers of this period—of Seneca and Dion, of Plutarch, and even of

Epictetus—that there is in them no pedantic adhesion to the fixed tenets

of a particular school. The half-playful boast of Horace at one end of

the period—_nullius addictus jurare in verba magistri_[130]—is reiterated

with something of sarcastic emphasis in Epictetus at the other: “Virtue

does not consist in having understood Chrysippus.”[131] Seneca gives

expression to this prevalent spirit of compromise with great courage

and clearness. After quoting _suo more_ a certain _nobilis sententia_

of Epicurus, he says: “You must not regard these expressions as peculiar

to Epicurus; they are common property. The practice which obtains in the

Senate should, I think, be adopted in Philosophy. When a speaker says

something with which I partly agree, I ask him to compromise, and then

I go with him.”[132] Anything in the whole gathered wealth of the Past

which promised support to a man in his efforts to regulate his life in

accordance with the dictates of reason and virtue was welcomed and made

available for the uses of morality by the selective power of Philosophy.

Hence Plutarch levies contributions on philosophers, poets, legislators;

on Hellenic and Barbarian Religions; on Mysteries, Oracles, private

utterances; on the whole complex civilization of the Græco-Roman world,

and the civilizations which it had absorbed or dominated; on everything,

in fact, which, from its antiquity, or its possession of national or

individual authority, could be made available for establishing the

practice of virtue on the sanction of an ancient and inalienable

foundation. The object of the following pages is to scrutinize the

results of this appeal to the Past, as they are presented in the “Ethics”

of Plutarch, and to arrange in some kind of order the various elements of

which they are composed.

The religion of Plutarch · 第 3 / 11 章