CHAPTER VI.

_Plutarch’s Dæmonology—Dæmonology as a means of reconciliation

between the traditional Polytheism and philosophic

Monotheism—Dæmonlore in Greek philosophers and in the popular

faith—Growth of a natural tendency to identify the gods of the

polytheistic tradition with the Dæmons—Emphasis thus given to

the philosophic conception of the Deity—Dæmons responsible for

all the crude and cruel superstitions attaching to the popular

gods—Function of the Dæmons as mediators between God and man._

How, then, does Plutarch reconcile this lofty conception of a Deity who

is Unity, Eternity, and Supreme Intelligence, with the multitude of

individual deities which form so essential a part of the “hereditary

Faith” of Græco-Roman civilization, and which are universally admitted

as displaying qualities discrepant from even a far lower notion of God

than that which Plutarch actually maintained? Further, since the Empire

includes other nationalities than the Greeks, and the Roman Pantheon is

not the exclusive habitation of native-born deities, how shall he find a

place in his theological scheme for the gods of other peoples, so that

there may be that Catholic Unity in faith which shall correspond to the

one political dominion under which the world dwells in so great a peace

and concord?

The difficulty of reconciling Polytheism with philosophic Monotheism

was, of course, not new. In earlier days it had been necessary for

philosophers to secure their monotheistic speculations from the charge of

Atheism by finding in their systems a dignified position for the popular

gods. And even those philosophers who sincerely believed in the existence

of beings corresponding to the popular conceptions felt the need of

accounting, in some more or less specious way, for the ill deeds that

were traditionally attributed to so many of them. The ancient doctrine

of Dæmons, emanating from some obscure source in Antiquity,[233] had

been adopted by the Pythagoreans in the latter sense,[234] while Plato,

who believed in none of these things, had, on one or two occasions, by

the use of philosophic “myth” replete with more than Socratic irony,

described these beings as playing a part between God and man which might

be tolerantly regarded as not greatly dissimilar from that popularly

assigned to the lesser deities of the Hellenic Olympus.[235] In the

“Statesman,” the creation-myth, to which the Stranger invites the

younger Socrates to give his entire attention, “like a child to a story,”

describes how the Deity himself tended men and was their protector,

while Dæmons had a share, after the manner of shepherds, in the

superintendence of animals according to genera and herds.[236] Another

story which Socrates, in the “Banquet,” says that he heard from Diotima,

that wonderful person who postponed the Athenian plague for ten years,

tells how Eros is a great Dæmon; how Dæmons are intermediate between

gods and mortals; how the race of Dæmons interpret and transmit to the

gods the prayers and sacrifices of men, and interpret and transmit to

men the answers and commands of the gods.[237] For God, we are told, is

not directly associated with man; but it is through the mediation of the

Dæmons, who are many and various, that all communion and converse take

place between the human and the Divine.

But apart altogether from the philosophic use of Dæmonology, there are

evidences that the belief in Dæmons was held in some sort of loose

combination with the popular polytheistic faith. The Hesiodic poems were

a compendium of early Hellenic theology,[238] and Hesiod, according

to Plutarch himself, was the first to indicate with clearness and

distinctness the existence of four species of rational beings—gods,

_dæmons_, heroes, and men.[239] In the passage of Hesiod referred to

(_Works and Days_, 109 sqq.) two kinds of Dæmons are described. The

dwellers in the Golden Age are transformed, after their sleep-like death

on earth, into Terrestrial Dæmons:—

“When earth’s dark breast had closed this race around,

Great Jove as demons raised them from the ground;

_Earth-hovering spirits_, they their charge began,

The ministers of good, and guards of man.

Mantled with mist of darkling air they glide,

And compass earth and pass on every side;

And mark, with earnest vigilance of eyes,

Where just deeds live, or crookèd wrongs arise.”[240]

They are virtuous, holy beings, endowed with immortality—“Jove’s

immortal guardians over mortal men.”[241] The races of the Silver Age

become Subterranean powers, blessed beings, but inferior in honour to

the former class, and distinctly described as mortal.[242] Hesiod says

nothing about Evil Dæmons, although the disappearance of the Brazen

Race furnished an opportunity for their introduction into his scheme

of supernatural beings. But once the existence of beings inferior to

the gods in the celestial hierarchy obtained a recognition in popular

tradition, however vague the recognition might be, the conception would

tend to gather strength and definiteness from the necessity, first

expressed by the philosophers, but doubtless widely spread among the

people, of safeguarding the sanctity of the gods, while at the same

time recognizing the substantial validity of tradition. This tendency

would be also probably aided by the fact that in Homer, as Plutarch

points out, and in the dramatists and prose writers generally, as is

well known, the designations of “gods” and “dæmons” were mutually

interchanged.[243] Plutarch, at all events, who boldly uses the Dæmons

to perform such functions, and to bear the blame for such actions, as

were inappropriate to the divine character, is enabled to make one of

his _dramatis personæ_—Cleombrotus, the traveller, who was specially

devoted to the study of such matters—assert that “it can be demonstrated

by unexceptionable testimony from antiquity that there do exist beings

of a nature intermediate between that of God and man, beings subject

to mortal passions and liable to inevitable changes, but whom we must,

_in accordance with the established custom of our fathers_, regard and

invoke as Dæmons, giving them all due reverence.”[244] It is natural,

therefore, in the light of these indications, to believe that, side by

side with the popular gods, there existed, in the popular imagination,

subordinate beings of two kinds, both described as Dæmons: the first

class comprising the good and benevolent Dæmons of Hesiod, the second

including Dæmons of an evil character and disposition, the belief in

which had developed naturally out of the Hesiodic conception, from the

necessity of fixing the responsibility of evil deeds on supernatural

beings different in nature from the purity and goodness of Deity.[245]

Such a classification of supernatural beings—gods, Dæmons, and evil

Dæmons—could not, of course, be rigidly maintained; the more the good

Dæmons were discriminated from their evil brethren, the more they would

tend to become identified with the gods of the popular tradition, and the

line of demarcation between the divine and the dæmonic nature would be

broken down,[246] Dæmons and gods would be identified, and the splendour

and purity of the Supreme God of all would shine out more fully when

contrasted with those other gods, who, after all, were only Dæmons.

Such, at least, is the process which appears to be taking place in the

numerous contributions which Plutarch makes to the subject of Dæmonology.

He is evidently a sincere believer in the existence of Dæmons, not a

believer in the Platonic sense, and not a believer merely because he

wishes to come to terms with popular ideas. But the final result, so it

appears to us, is that the popular gods become identified with Dæmons,

and are prepared, even in Pagan times, to take that position which was

assigned to them with such whole-hearted sincerity by the early Christian

Fathers;[247] to become the fiends and devils and sprites of another

dispensation; to aid Saladin in excluding the Crusaders from the Holy

Land; to “drink beer instead of nectar” as day labourers in German

forests; or to shine with a sinister splendour on the lives of monks and

peasants in the rural districts of France.[248]

Plutarch gives emphatic indications of his own attitude on the subject

by drawing attention to such expressions of the earlier philosophers as

pointed to the recognition of two opposite descriptions of Dæmons—the

virtuous and the vicious. In one place, as we have seen, he admits that

Homer does not distinguish between the terms “Gods” and “Dæmons,” and

in his historical _résumé_ of Dæmonology in the “Isis and Osiris,”[249]

he is compelled to make a parallel admission that the Homeric epithet

derived from Dæmons is indiscriminately applied to good and bad actions.

He makes this admission, however, the basis of a subtle conclusion to

the effect that Homer wished to imply that the Dæmons had a confused

and ill-defined character, involving the existence of both good and bad

specimens of the race. Nothing definitely distinguishing between the

two sorts of Dæmons is to be obtained from Plato,[250] and Plutarch

accordingly dwells with special emphasis upon the views of Empedocles and

Xenocrates, who maintained, the one, that Dæmons who had been guilty of

sins of commission or omission were driven about between earth and sky

and sea and sun, until this purifying chastisement restored them to their

natural position in the dæmonic hierarchy;[251] the other, that certain

disgraceful and ill-omened sacrificial observances “are not properly

connected with the worship of the _gods or of good Dæmons_,[252] but that

there are surrounding us certain beings, great and potent, but malignant

too, and hateful, who rejoice in such repulsive ceremonies, and are

thereby restrained from the perpetration of greater evils.” Democritus

and Chrysippus are elsewhere quoted as supporters of the same view.[253]

Plutarch, accordingly, faithful to his principle of making Philosophy

Mystagogue to Religion, has obtained from the philosophers a conviction

that there are two kinds of dæmonic beings, two sets of supernatural

characters with attributes inferior to those of the Divine Nature, and

yet superior to those displayed by the human family. It has already been

shown how naturally the good Dæmons would tend to become identified

with the gods: a passage has just been quoted in which we can see this

process of identification taking place. But Plutarch furnishes still more

emphatic testimony to the necessity of such a consummation.

The group of philosophers gathered together at Delphi to discuss the

cessation of the oracles have fallen into an argument on the nature of

Dæmons, and certain considerations have been introduced which indicate a

liability to vice and death as inherent in their nature. This conclusion

shocks one of the speakers, but the pious Cleombrotus wants to know

in what respect Dæmons will differ from gods if they are endowed with

immortality and immunity from sin.[254] It is most significant, however,

that the famous and beautiful story which Cleombrotus tells in support

of his belief in the mortality of Dæmons, the story of the death of “the

great Pan,” is actually concerned with an announcement of the death of

one whom the popular faith accepted as a deity.[255] Demetrius, who had

just come from Britain, near which were many scattered desert islands,

some of them named after Dæmons and heroes, gives an authentic account

of the death of a Dæmon in the island of Anglesea.[256] Cleombrotus

then shows how a belief in the nativity and mortality of the Dæmons is

not unknown in Greek philosophy, “for the Stoics,” says he, “maintain

this view, _not only with regard to the Dæmons but also with regard to

the gods_—holding one for the Eternal and Immutable, while regarding

the remainder to have been born, and to be subject to death.”[257] The

whole course of the argument, even though the speakers are represented

as unconscious of the fact, leads to the identification of the popular

deities with the Dæmons. This strain of thought elsewhere loses the

unconscious quality, and becomes as definitely dogmatic as Plutarch’s

Academic bent of mind would allow. In the “Isis and Osiris,” for example,

he argues for the probability of the view which assigns the legends of

these two deities not to gods or men, but to Dæmons;[258] and proceeds

still further to breach the partition wall between the two natures by

introducing into his Dæmonology such legends as have raised Osiris and

Isis, on account of their virtue, from the rank of good Dæmons to that of

the gods,[259] and describes them as receiving everywhere the combined

honours of gods and Dæmons; and he appropriates the argument to Greek

religion by comparing this promotion to those of Herakles and Dionysus;

by identifying Isis with Proserpine, and subsequently Osiris with

Dionysus.[260]

But whatever may have been the views explicitly maintained by Plutarch in

this connexion, it is his constant practice to shift on to the shoulders

of the Dæmons the responsibility for all those legends, ceremonies, and

practices, which, however appropriate and necessary parts of the national

faith they may be, are yet inconsistent with the qualities rightly

attributable to Deity.[261] We have already noticed his unwillingness

to impugn the immutability of the Creator by regarding His essence as

capable of metamorphosis into the phenomena of the created world.[262]

“It is,” says Ammonius, “the function of some other god to do and suffer

these changes—or, rather, of some Dæmon appointed to direct Nature in

the processes of generation and destruction.” This relationship of the

Dæmons to the supreme power as conceived by philosophy is more completely

stated in the short tract, “De Fato,”[263] where we are told that (1)

there is a first and supreme Providence which is the intelligence of

the First Deity, or, as one may regard it, His benevolent will towards

all creatures, in accordance with which all _divine_ things universally

received the most admirable and perfect order; (2) the second Providence

is that of the second gods, who move through the sky, by which _human_

affairs are duly ordered, including those relating to the permanence

and preservation of the various species; (3) the third Providence may

properly be regarded as the superintendence of the Dæmons who are

situated near the earth, observing and directing the actions of men. But,

as we have already noted, this formal distinction between (2) and (3)

is not maintained in practice. Cleombrotus, who knows more about these

things than most people, insists that it is not possible that the gods

could have been pleased with festivals and sacrifices, “at which there

are banquets of raw flesh and victims torn in pieces, as well as fastings

and loud lamentations, and often ‘foul language, mad shrieks, and tossing

of dishevelled hair,’” but that all such dread observances must have had

the object of pacifying the anger of the mischievous Dæmons.[264] It was

not to the gods that human sacrifices were welcome; it was not Artemis

who demanded the slaughter of Iphigenia;[265] these were the deeds of

“fierce and violent Dæmons,” who also perpetrated those many rapes, and

inflicted those pestilences and famines which are anciently attributed

to the gods. “All the rapes here, and the wanderings there, that are

celebrated in legends and sacred hymns, all the hidings and flights and

servitudes, _do not belong to the gods_, but represent the chances and

changes incident to the careers of Dæmons.” It was not “holy Apollo” who

was banished from Heaven to serve Admetus;—but here the speech comes to

an end with a rapid change of subject, as if Cleombrotus shrinks from

the assertion that a Dæmon was the real hero of an episode with which

so many beautiful and famous legends of the “hereditary Faith” were

connected. When some of the most celebrated national myths concerning the

gods are assigned to Dæmons, we are not far away from the identification

of the former with the latter, and the consequent degradation of the

gods to the lower rank. It is true that the various speakers on the

subject do not, in so many words, identify the Dæmons with the gods of

the Mythology.[266] They deprive the gods of many of their attributes,

and give them to the Dæmons; they deprive them of others, and give them

to the One Eternal Deity. It is difficult to see how the Gods could

maintain their existence under this twofold tendency of deprivation,

supported as they might be by formal classifications which assigned

them a superior place. Even the Father of Gods and Men—the Zeus of

Homer—turns his eyes “_no very great way ahead_ from Troy to Thrace and

the nomads of the Danube, but the true Zeus gazes upon beauteous and

becoming transformations in many worlds.”[267] To contrast the Zeus “of

Homer” with the “true” Zeus is to do little else than to place the former

in that subordinate rank proper not to the Divine, but to the Dæmonic

character. Plutarch is perfectly consistent in applying this method of

interpretation to the gods of other nations no less than to the gods of

Greece. In the “Isis and Osiris,” he inclines to the belief that these

great Egyptian Deities are themselves only Dæmons, although he refuses

to dogmatize on the point, and gives a series of more or less recognized

explanations of the Egyptian myth. He cannot refrain, however, from using

so appropriate an occasion of denouncing the absurdity of the _Greeks_ in

imputing so many terrible actions and qualities to their gods—“For the

legends of Giants and Titans, handed down among the Greeks, the monstrous

deeds of Cronus, the battle between Pytho and Apollo, the flight of

Dionysus, the wanderings of Demeter, fall not behind the stories told

of Osiris and Typhon, and other legends that one may hear recounted by

mythologists without restraint.”[268]

Such, then, is the relation in which the Dæmons stand to the Divine

nature: they are made the scapegoat for everything obscene, cruel,

selfish, traditionally imputed to the gods; and the Supreme Deity rises

more conspicuously lofty for its freedom from everything that can tend

to drag it down to the baseness of human passions. For Plutarch makes

it very clear that it is the human element in these mixed natures that

originates their disorderly appetites. Although the Dæmons “exceed

mankind in strength and capacity, yet the divine element in their

composition is not pure and unalloyed, inasmuch as it participates in

the faculties of the soul and the sensations of the body, is liable

to pleasure and pain, and to such other conditions as are involved in

these vicissitudes of feeling, and bring disturbance upon all in a

greater or less degree.”[269] It is by virtue of this participation in

the “disturbing” elements of human nature that they are fitted to play

that part between God and man which Plutarch, after Plato, calls the

“interpretative” and the “communicative.”[270] This enables the Dæmons

to play a loftier part than that hitherto assigned them; to respond, in

fact, to that universal craving of humanity for some mediator between

their weakness and the eternal splendour and perfection of the Highest.

The whole question of inspiration and revelation, both oracular and

personal, is bound up with the Dæmonic function, and to both these

spheres of its operation, the public and the private, Plutarch gives

the fullest and most earnest consideration. Previous, therefore, to

discussing this aspect of the Dæmonic character and influence, it will

be necessary to ascertain what were Plutarch’s views on the subject of

inspiration and prophecy, and what was his attitude to that question

of Divination which exercised so great a fascination on the mind of

antiquity.

The religion of Plutarch · 第 6 / 11 章