The worships, beliefs, and religious practices of the age which saw the

birth and infancy of Christianity must always be the most interesting of

all subjects to the student of history, nor are there many more

deserving the attention of the general reader. The opponent, quite as

much as the adherent of Christianity, must admit that the early

struggles of the faith which is professed by nearly a third of the human

race, which for fifteen centuries wielded unchallenged sway over the

whole of Europe, and which has grown with the growth of European

colonization until it now has a firm settlement in every quarter of the

inhabited world, must ever possess surpassing interest for humanity. Yet

the popular ideas on the subject are not only vague but erroneous. A

general notion that, shortly before the coming of Christ, the Pagans had

tired of their old gods, and, lost to all sense of decency, had given

themselves up to an unbridled immorality founded on atheistic ideas, is

probably about as far as the man who has given no special study to the

subject would venture to go. Such a view, founded perhaps on somewhat

misty recollections of the Roman satirists and a little secondhand

knowledge of the denunciations of the early Christian writers, is almost

the reverse of the truth. There has probably been no time in the history

of mankind when all classes were more given up to thoughts of religion,

or when they strained more fervently after high ethical ideals, than in

the six centuries which have been taken for the subject of this book[1].

The cause of this misconception is, however, clear enough. Half a

century ago, the general public was without guide or leader in such

matters, nor had they any materials on which to form opinions of their

own. The classical education which was all that the majority of men then

got, carefully left all such matters as the origins of Christianity on

one side. The treatises of the Fathers of the Church, for the most part

written in late and inelegant Greek, were held to be too corrupting to

the style of scholars reared on the texts of the purest period to be

attempted by any but professional theologians, by whom indeed they were

often very imperfectly understood. Nor was much to be gathered from the

profane historians of the early Christian centuries, who maintained such

an obstinate silence with regard to Christianity as to give rise to the

theory that they must have conspired to ignore the new religion of the

lower classes as something too barbarous for ears polite[2]. Moreover,

the ruling maxim of education, especially of English education until the

end of the XIXth century, was that it was better to know one thing

thoroughly than to acquire a smattering of a great many, and that a

scholar was better served by an intimate knowledge of second aorists

than by any wide extent of reading; while the comparative method of

study was still confined to sciences of analysis like anatomy and

philology[3]. Above all, what has been called the catastrophic view of

the Christian religion was still in fashion. Although our spiritual

pastors and masters were never tired of reminding us that God’s ways

were not as our ways, they invariably talked and wrote on the assumption

that they were, and thought an Omnipotent Creator with eternity before

Him must needs behave like a schoolboy in control of gunpowder for the

first time. Hence “the remarkable victory” which, in the words of

Gibbon, the Christian faith obtained over “the established religions of

the earth” was in the view of the orthodox chiefly due to the miraculous

powers placed at the disposal of the primitive Church, and it was

considered impious to look further for the cause of the despotic rule

which in a comparatively brief space of time it succeeded in

establishing over the minds of men.

From this state of things, the foundation of what is known as the

science of religions did much to deliver us. When non-Christian faiths,

such as Hinduism, Buddhism, Zoroastrianism, and Mohammedanism, came to

be systematically studied without preconceived hostility or desire to

jeer at their absurdities, it was seen that the same atmosphere of

miracle and legend had gathered round their infancy as round that of the

Christian Church. Outside the regular or canonical scriptures—if the

phrase may be used—of all of these faiths, there had evidently grown up

a vast literature of uncertain date and authorship in which the same

stories were repeated and the same episodes introduced as in the

Christian Apocryphal Gospels, Acts, and Lives of the Saints. It began to

dawn upon us that, as the human mind under the same conditions generally

works in the same way, it was possible that all religions, whether true

or false, might have gone through the same or similar stages of

development[4].

That this view of the case was in itself a great step in advance,

everyone will readily admit who can remember the horror with which any

proposal to equate or even compare Christianity with any other religion

was once received. It was much helped, however, by another novel

hypothesis which about that time had got over its period of obloquy and

was rapidly coming to the front, namely, the theory of evolution. When

Darwin in his _Origin of Species_ enunciated the truth that as more

animals and plants than the earth can support come into existence every

year, it is only those varieties which are best fitted to their

environment which survive the consequent struggle for existence, he

practically gave us a new standpoint from which to contemplate Nature.

Herbert Spencer, quickly grasping this principle and carrying its

application much further than Darwin had ventured to do, showed that it

governed the development not only of animal forms but of the

intellectual and moral faculties of man, of political and social

institutions, and even of what he called “ecclesiastical institutions,”

which included religions themselves. With the general acceptance of this

view, it followed that the success in point of popularity of any creed

at any period of the world’s history was not due to any sudden or

capricious exercise of the Divine will, but to the normal working of a

universal and irresistible law.

But, at this point, we must stop a little to define what is meant by the

science of religions. Science, in this sense, has so far departed from

its strict and etymological signification of knowledge, as to connote

exact knowledge based upon ascertained fact, while a science is

generally held to mean an organized system in which the largest possible

number of related facts are gathered together with reference to one

common subject of study. At first sight, it appears that nothing can be

more rigidly excluded by this definition than religion, which has been

defined as “the effective desire to be in right relation to the power

manifesting itself in the universe[5].” This, which in some quarters

would be called the religion “of the heart,” can never form the subject

of study based upon exact knowledge, because the relations between any

human being and the power manifesting itself in the universe can be

known only, so far as we can see, to that being and to that power. But

in the science under consideration, there is no question of religion

generally, but of religions, which is a very different thing. By a

religion, we generally mean the assembly of beliefs, traditions, and

forms of worship which go to make up a faith or cult, and this, as it

must, according to the experience of all history, have come into being

through the agency of some man or men, should go through the same

evolutionary process as all other human institutions. Hence there is at

first sight a considerable probability that all religions whatever will

be found on examination to follow the same law of development by the

survival of those best fitted to their environment that we have seen

operative in the case of animal forms.

Here, however, the Christian—or for that matter, the adherent of any

faith which claims to have been founded by a special revelation—finds

himself in the presence of a dilemma. His own faith, whether it be

Christianity or another, is in his eyes true, as being not the work of

man, but of God, and all others are false. How therefore are they to be

compared? Is the Jew, who believes the Law to have been delivered to his

people “among the thunders of Sinai,” the Parsi who is taught the

special inspiration of Zoroaster by the “Omniscient Lord” Ahura Mazda,

or the Mohammedan who thinks that Mohammed received the Koran from Allah

himself, to be told that his faith has developed according to the same

laws as that of the Christian, who is convinced that his has no other

source than the teaching of the Divine Founder of Christianity?

To this it may be said that the dilemma is more apparent than real, and

is due to a like confusion of thought with that which seized upon many

when the evolutionary theory was first promulgated. No argument was then

more common than that the Divine creation of the animals, including man,

was authoritatively revealed once for all in the first chapter of

Genesis, and that the bare formulation of the idea that man’s bodily

form had developed by a long process of evolution and selection from

those of the lower animals was therefore a blasphemy that could only be

uttered by atheistic men of science[6]. There is no occasion to go here

into the tissue of sophistries and misconceptions with which Mr

Gladstone, when confronted with this argument in controversy with M.

Albert Réville, one of the founders of the science of religions, and

with M. Réville’s champion Prof. Huxley, tried to prove that the

assertion of the doctrine of evolution was to be found in the Book of

Genesis. It is sufficient to say that Darwin never affirmed that natural

selection or the survival of the fittest was the cause of the variation

of animal forms, but simply that it was the mode in which that

variation, however caused, operated[7]. In like manner, it may be said

that the science of religions by no means attempts to discuss the causes

which lead to the institution of any particular religion, but deals

merely with the laws underlying its development when once instituted.

The Christian religion, like those of Moses, Zoroaster, and Mohammed,

however Divine its origin, was, like them, propagated by men who founded

the Church, handed on the traditions, and gave form to the ceremonies.

Is there, therefore, any reason why the same law of development should

not apply to this as well as to its rivals?

That the answer to this must be in the negative is at last beginning to

be generally admitted. Prof. Tiele, writing in 1897, was obliged to

confess that “the new science of religions was in many quarters regarded

with suspicion[8],” but Dr Jevons, when lecturing at Hartford in 1908,

was able to say that “the time has happily gone by when the mere idea of

comparing Christianity with any other religion would have been rejected

with horror as treasonous and treacherous[9].” Yet it may be doubted

whether the clouds have rolled completely away, and it is fairly certain

that the many learned and able Catholic priests who have done so much to

elucidate the origins and tendencies of ancient religions other than

their own have until lately avoided the discussion of their relations

with the earliest forms of Christianity. This is the more to be

regretted, because they are in many cases peculiarly fitted for the

investigation, and their acquaintance with the extra-Canonical Christian

writers before Constantine, hitherto much neglected by Protestant

theologians, would make their conclusions upon it especially valuable.

Yet it is along these lines that future inquiry will probably advance;

and if, as most of us believe, the Christian religion has outdistanced

and survived all its early competitors because it was better fitted than

they to its environment, it is of great importance even from the point

of view of the most rigid orthodoxy, that we should have a clear

conception of what that environment was. Fortunately the gaps in our

knowledge have been in great measure filled by the work of Continental

scholars outside the pale of the Catholic Church, who have been

indefatigable of late years in discovering documents, editing texts, and

publishing monuments which throw great light on the history of the

religions which at the outset competed with Christianity for the favour

of the Graeco-Roman world. A summary of these labours is one of the

objects aimed at in the following pages.

If, now, we attempt to examine what these competitors were, we find at

the outset that a good number of those which we once thought formidable

may be eliminated from the list. Judaism, for instance, although the

matrix in which Christianity was formed, was never at any time in

effective rivalry with it. The words of the Gospel as to the Pharisees

compassing sea and land to make one proselyte have misled the unwary

into supposing that the number of Jewish proselytes was at one time or

another large[10]; but it must be remembered that it was the Sadducees

and not the Pharisees who were the dominant party in the Jewish State,

and that these last formed but a very small part of the total population

of Judaea[11]. The Sadducees from their Hellenizing tendencies were much

more likely to go over to the faith of the Gentiles than to make any

great effort for their conversion, and both they and the Essenes, who

formed in Josephus’ day the third party among the Jews, were too much

set on procuring, by different means, the temporal supremacy of Israel,

to care much about admitting any proselyte to share in it[12]. Although

a few undistinguished persons of Gentile blood may have become converts

to Judaism between the birth of Christ and the fall of the Temple, their

number can never have been at any time important; and after 69 A.D., the

furious hostility that arose between Jew and Gentile made any further

conversions to the Jewish faith practically impossible. Never, so far as

we know, did Judaism aim at becoming, and certainly never had the

slightest chance of appearing as, a world-religion.

Not less hopeless, in this respect, was the case of the Graeco-Roman

pantheon. The late Mr Long’s picture of “Diana or Christ,” representing

a young woman called upon by a sympathetic Roman magistrate to choose

between sacrificing to the statue of the many-breasted Artemis of

Ephesus and condemnation to death as a Christian, attained great

popularity in its day, and shows with fair clearness the view of the

relations between Paganism and early Christianity supposed at the end of

the last century to have been current in the first. Yet hardly anything

could give a falser idea of the religious history of the period. The

officials of the Roman Empire in time of persecution sought to force the

Christians to sacrifice, not to any of the heathen gods, but to the

Genius of the Emperor and the Fortune of the City of Rome; and at all

times the Christians’ refusal was looked upon not as a religious but as

a political offence[13]. For the rest, the worship of the Olympian gods

had, when Christianity came to the surface, almost entirely died out,

and both Greek and Latin writers bear witness to the contempt with which

it was regarded by both races at the beginning of our era. Cicero, while

admitting that the world is governed by the providence of the gods,

rejects all the myths attached to them as impious, and declares that the

“Deity who is diffused in every part of Nature” appears as the earth

under the name of Ceres, as the sea under that of Neptune, and so

on[14]. Plutarch, too, is plainly a monotheist, who worships “the one

eternal, passionless Spirit far removed from the world of chance and

change and earthly soilure” of Greek philosophy[15]; and, while

lamenting the decay of faith which has led to the cessation of oracles,

thinks that all the manifestations of the Divine providence are the work

of no great deity, but of a crowd of inferior powers or demons who are

hardly in a greater superiority of position to man than the fairies of

our childhood[16]. Whatever rivalry the Christian Church had to face in

its infancy, it had none to fear from the deities of Olympus.

It has been said, however, and to a certain extent accepted, that the

first efforts of Christianity were sorely hindered by the followers of

the great Greek philosophers. In this there is a certain amount of

truth, for the Neo-Platonic school did indeed enter into an alliance

with the few remaining worshippers of the Pagan gods which forced them

into an attitude of opposition to Christianity. But this was at a date

some time after the compact with Constantine, and consequently later

than that within the scope of this book. Nor is it likely that at an

earlier date philosophy and Christianity appealed to the same class of

minds, and that they thus entered into serious competition with each

other. As the late Dr Hatch has said, “the earliest forms of

Christianity were not only outside the sphere of Greek philosophy, but

they also appealed on the one hand, mainly to the classes which

philosophy did not reach, and on the other hand, to a standard which

philosophy did not recognize[17].” Faith, not reason, was the quality

that the Apostles and their immediate successors sought in their

hearers, and Celsus was probably not far wrong when he said that the

rule of admission into the infant Church was “Let no educated man enter,

no wise man, no prudent man, for such things we deem evil; but whoever

is ignorant, whoever is unintelligent, whoever is simple, let him come

and be welcome[18].” To this state of mind the password of the early

Christian communities, _Maran atha_, is a sufficient key. The confident

expectation of the nearness of the Parusia or Second Advent for the

primitive Christian overwhelmed all other considerations. “The Lord is

at hand and His reward” was the one fact that he wished to keep before

him. What need to trouble about the Highest Good or the hundred other

questions that vexed the souls of the philosophers?

The religions competing with Christianity which are left after this

elimination may be classed in three categories. First come the Oriental

religions native to countries lying to the south and east of the

Mediterranean and therefore mainly outside the sphere of Hellenic

culture until after the conquests of Alexander. These religions, born or

nurtured in Asia Minor, Persia, and Egypt, so soon as Alexander had

carried out his project of the marriage of Europe and Asia, poured

westward in a flood which a Roman satirist compared to the Orontes

emptying itself into the Tiber, and gained, according to a well-known

law in the history of religions, a far greater influence over the minds

of men than they had exercised in their native home. The second category

comprises the many strange sects which the first Fathers of the Church

grouped together under the generic name of Gnostics. The faith which

these professed was not, as it is sought to show later, one founded on

religion at all but rather on magic, and had long been present in germ

as a sort of heresy or alternative belief underlying the worship of the

gods of Olympus. Finally, there arose the ambitious religion of Manes,

which aimed at sweeping into one vast synthesis or eclectic church the

three religions of Zoroaster, Buddha, and Christ, which at the time of

its institution divided between them the allegiance of the civilized

world.

Each of these categories shall be dealt with in turn; but before doing

so, it may be well to say something upon the state of our knowledge

concerning them. Until lately, it was a commonplace of religious history

that the Catholic Church had destroyed as far as possible all traces of

the religions that she had supplanted, which was picturesquely expressed

in the phrase that in her victory she had burned the enemy’s camp. That

this was her conscious policy may be gathered from the advice given by a

Pope of the VIIth century, to “break the idols and consecrate the

temples” of the heathen[19]; but of late many relics of the ancient

faiths which had before escaped us have been disinterred by the care of

scholars. During the last century, the lost heresiology of Hippolytus

and considerable fragments of works by Gnostic authors were brought to

light in circumstances to be described in their place[20], while the

present decade has not only added to our stock of Gnostic fragments, but

has revealed to us on the western frontier of China a hoard of

Manichaean documents rich beyond our hopes[21]. These are not only

valuable by reason of the information they afford, but give us ground

for the belief that, as the interest in such matters becomes more widely

spread, many more documents throwing light upon the subject will appear.

One word may be said in conclusion as to the relations of these rival

religions between themselves. Whoever studies the documents here

described cannot fail to be struck by the fact that certain ideas,

phrases, and even words, seem common to them all. At the time that these

documents were written this similarity excited no remark from the

orthodox, as it was at once disposed of by the theory that these

religions were one and all the invention of the Devil, and therefore

naturally bore traces of their common origin. This explanation, however

convenient, does not satisfy the demands of modern criticism, and it is

therefore necessary to look further. One way of accounting for the

phenomenon is to suppose that many if not all of the analogies noticed

are due to the mistakes of scribes and translators, who, when dealing

with expressions unfamiliar to them, were naturally inclined to repeat

the same phrases over and over again. This, as all know who have had to

do with ancient manuscripts, is accountable for much, and it is

extremely likely that a monk of the Vth or VIth century transcribing an

account of the opinions of, for instance, the Ophites who flourished in

Phrygia before the birth of Christ at the same time with those of the

Manichaeans found in Rome three centuries later, would not hesitate to

express views essentially different by the same phrases and even the

same words. Add to this the jumble that persons untrained in philology

naturally make between names in a foreign language and those of similar

sound in their own tongue, coupled with the fixed idea of finding in the

traditions of the heathen a confirmation of the historical truth of the

Hebrew Scriptures, and you have some explanation of the cause which

makes many proper names recur unexpectedly in otherwise unrelated

documents. Thus the Armenian bishop, Moses of Chorene, in narrating the

story which he says he obtained from Berossus, the Chaldaean historian

who wrote at the beginning of our era, says that “Before the building of

the Tower of Babel and the multiplication of tongues among the human

race, after the navigation of Xisuthros [_i.e._ Hasis-adra, the

Babylonian Noah] in Armenia, Zervan, Titan, and Japhet were princes of

the land. These persons,” he adds, “seem to be Shem, Ham, and

Japhet[22].” Zervan is the name given by a late sect of Zoroastrians to

the “Boundless Time” whom they placed at the origin of all things, while

Titan belongs to the Hellenic mythology, and Japhet may either be

Saturn’s brother Iapetus, or the patriarch of the Book of Genesis. It is

to be conjectured that Berossus did not use these three names in the

apposition quoted or probably at all, and we can only guess vainly at

the real names which are concealed under those which Moses of Chorene

here gives.

But when all allowance is made for mistakes like these, there remains a

fund of ideas common to all or many of the religions hereafter treated

of, which cannot be explained away by any theory of verbal

inaccuracy[23]. As an instance of this, let us take the notion of an

archetypal or heavenly man created ages before the appearance upon earth

of terrestrial man, who was nevertheless made in the image and after the

likeness of his predecessor. This idea, as will be shown later, is met

with among the Phrygian Ophites, where “a Man and a Son of Man” were

said to be the origin of all subsequent things, as in the Avestic

literature of Persia where Gayômort, the son, according to one story, of

the Supreme God Ahura Mazda by his daughter Spenta-armaiti, is made at

once the pattern and the source of the whole human race. The borrowings

of Zoroastrianism from Babylonia were not few, and we might conceive

this to be the survival of some old Babylonian tradition, such as that

which modern critics believe to have been the origin of the Creation and

Flood stories of Genesis; and this theory is strengthened by the

predominant part which this “First Man” plays in Manichaeism, itself a

Babylonian faith, where the Turkestan MSS. show him as a sort of

intermediary between the gods of light and this earth. But how shall we

account for the fact that in one of the earliest documents of the

_Pistis Sophia_, the collection of Gnostic writings hereafter

described[24], a great angel named Jeû, who is spoken of many times as

the “overseer of the light” and the arranger of the Cosmos, is also

alluded to as the “First Man,” in a way which shows that the writer did

not doubt that the allusion would be comprehended by his readers without

further explanation[25]? The _Pistis Sophia_, although doubtless written

in Greek in the first instance, comes to us in a Coptic dress, and the

documents therein contained show more affinities with the Egyptian than

with the Persian religion. How therefore can we account for the same

idea appearing at almost the same time in countries between the peoples

of which there was always bitter hostility, and which were separated

moreover by the Arabian Desert and the whole breadth of Asia Minor?

It seems to the present writer that no solution of this and of the

numerous other difficulties of which this is but one example can be

profitably suggested, until we know more than we do at present about the

origin and dates of Zoroastrianism. Although this religion is still with

us in the beliefs of the modern Parsis, there is none about the origin

of which we know less, or concerning the antiquity of which there is

greater discrepancy between ancient and modern writers. Thus, while

Plutarch, quoting as is generally supposed Theopompos of Chios who

flourished in the IVth century B.C., declares that Zoroaster himself

wrote 5000 years before the Trojan War[26], modern writers of authority,

like Prof. Williams-Jackson and Mdlle Menant, are inclined to bring down

the date of the eponymous prophet or reformer of the Persian religion to

700 B.C.[27] The discrepancy is too great to be bridged over by any

compromise, and the question has been further complicated by the

discovery a few years ago of inscriptions which show that Mithras, the

Persian god whose worship formed the most dangerous rival to that of the

Christian Church immediately before its alliance with Constantine, was

one of the most exalted deities of the presumably Aryan Hittites or

Mitannians at a date not later than 1272 B.C.[28] Signs are not wanting

that discovery in the near future may take this line of advance, and if

it should turn out that the religion which Zoroaster reformed was

established in Northern Mesopotamia before the Homeric age, we may have

to reconstruct all our ideas of the origin of the Greek religion. There

seems no use therefore in dilating upon hypotheses which the course of

research may in a very few years prove to be entirely erroneous[29].

In the meantime, the thing of immediate importance seems to be to get

the documentary evidence already at our disposal as far as possible

before the public, and this is attempted in the pages which follow. The

different religions are there arranged in the chronological order of

their greatest activity in the West with the belief that this course

will prove most convenient to the reader.

Footnote 1:

For the pre-Christian centuries, the rise of ethical religions like

that of the Greek Isis (see Chap. II _infra_) and of Mithras (see

Chap. XII) is perhaps sufficient proof of this. For the

post-Christian, see Tertullian’s remarks as to the interest excited

among the heathens by problems like the origin of evil (_de

Praescript._ c. VII.). As to their striving after morality, see Eugène

de Faye, “Formation d’une Doctrine de Dieu au IIme Siècle,” _Rev.

Hist. Rel._ t. LXIII. (Jan.-Fev. 1911) pp. 1, 2, for authorities. See,

too, Hatch, _Hibbert Lectures_, 1890, pp. 291, 292 and Harnack as

there quoted.

Footnote 2:

W. M. Ramsay, _The Church in the Roman Empire_, 1893, pp. 263, 264.

Footnote 3:

Tiele, in his Gifford Lectures delivered in 1895, remarks on the

ridicule with which the learned Hellenists of his youth received the

efforts of those whom they called the _comparativi_. See _Elements of

the Science of Religion_, 1897, vol. I. p. 7.

Footnote 4:

No better proof can be given of the change in public opinion in such

matters than the comparison of Gibbon’s words with regard to “the

miraculous powers ascribed to the primitive Church” (_Decline and

Fall_, Bury’s edition, vol. II. p. 2) and the way the subject is

treated in the article “Wonders” in Cheyne’s _Encyclopedia Biblica_,

1903.

Footnote 5:

The definition is that of Ira W. Howerth, _International Journal of

Ethics_, 1903, p. 205.

Footnote 6:

See Tiele, _op. cit._ vol. I. pp. 5 _sqq._ The controversies raging

round Darwin’s theory when first put forward are well summarized by F.

W. Hutton in his _Darwinism and Lamarckism_, 1899, _passim_. Cf.

Delage and Goldsmith, _Les Thèoriesé de l’Évolution_, Paris, 1909, pp.

28, 29.

Footnote 7:

See Hutton, _op. cit._ p. 111.

Footnote 8:

Tiele, _op. cit._ vol. I. p. 11.

Footnote 9:

F. B. Jevons, _Introduction to the Study of Comparative Religion_,

1908, p. 18.

Footnote 10:

Like the late Dean Stanley, who in his Lectures on the _History of the

Jewish Church_, talked about the synagogue of the Jewish settlement in

Rome under the first Emperors “fascinating the proud Roman nobles by

the glimpse it gave of a better world” (vol. III. p. 410).

Footnote 11:

According to Josephus (_Antiq._ XVIII. i. 3, 4) they did not amount to

more than 6000 men distributed throughout the whole of Palestine.

Morrison thinks that “the Pharisaic party had no attraction for the

great bulk of the population,” _The Jews under Roman Rule_ 1890, p.

307.

Footnote 12:

See Chap. V _infra_.

Footnote 13:

See Neander, _General Hist. of the Christian Religion and Church_,

Eng. ed. 1853, vol. I. p. 126.

Footnote 14:

_De Natura Deorum_, c. XXVIII. The statement is put into the mouth of

Balbus whose arguments Cicero declares to have in his opinion “the

greater probability.” See also Athenagoras, _Legatio_, c. XXII. and

Minucius Felix, c. XIX. With such interpretations or mythoplasms,

Philo of Alexandria was familiar. Cf. F. C. Conybeare, _Apology of

Apollonius_, 1894, p. 9.

Footnote 15:

Dill, _Roman Society from Nero to Marcus Aurelius_, 1904, p. 419.

Footnote 16:

_De Iside et Osiride_, c. XXV.

Footnote 17:

Hatch, _Hibbert Lectures_, p. 124.

Footnote 18:

Origen, _contra Celsus_, t. III. c. 44. Cf. Hatch, where last quoted.

Footnote 19:

Cf. Dill, _Roman Society in the Last Century of the Western Empire_,

1899, p. 38, n. 4. See also the edict of Constantine quoted in the

concluding chapter, _infra_. The steps which led up to the policy are

well summarized by Walter Johnson, _Byways of British Archaeology_,

1912, p. 25.

Footnote 20:

See Chap. VII _infra_.

Footnote 21:

See Chap. XIII _infra_.

Footnote 22:

Langlois, _Collection des Historiens de l’Arménie_, Paris, 1868, t. I.

p. 388.

Footnote 23:

The late Dr Salmon’s theory that writers like Hippolytus may have been

taken in by a forger who made one document do duty for many different

sects is given in Chap. VII _infra_, but the arguments in its favour

are not conclusive.

Footnote 24:

See Chap. X _infra_.

Footnote 25:

Sir Gaston Maspero, “Sur l’Ennéade,” _R.H.R._ Jan.-Fev. 1892, p. 8,

says that the Egyptians regarded Osiris as the First Man, and Jéquier

repeats the statement in his _Livre de ce qu’il y a dans l’Hadès_,

Paris, 1894, pp. 9-10. Yet there seems no evidence that the Egyptians

ever knew him under that name.

Footnote 26:

_De Is. et Os._ c. XLVI.

Footnote 27:

See (Mdlle) D. Menant, “Parsis et Parsisme,” _Conférences au Musée

Guimet_, 1904, and Prof. Williams-Jackson as there quoted. The same

date is accepted with some hesitation by Prof. Hope Moulton in his

_Early Zoroastrianism_ (Hibbert Lectures), 1913, pp. 17 _sqq._

Footnote 28:

See H. G. Jacobi, “The Antiquity of Vedic Culture,” _Journal of the

Royal Asiatic Society_, 1909, pp. 720 _sqq._, where the texts relied

upon are given and discussed. The correspondence which followed upon

this paper (see _J.R.A.S._ 1909, 1910) is full of interest. Fossey,

“Les Fouilles Allemandes à Boghaz-Keui,” _Journal des Savans_, July,

1909, p. 316, would make the date of the inscription about 1900 B.C.

Footnote 29:

After this was in print, there came to hand Mr Stephen Langdon’s

translation of the Sumerian tablet from Nippur found by him at

Philadelphia, which narrates in a new and modified form the earliest

Babylonian legend of the Creation. From this it appears that the

goddess Nin-harsag, either on her own account or as the agent of the

god En-ki or Ea, “created two creatures with heads, feet, and face as

a model for mankind.” See Mr Langdon’s Preliminary Note in the

_Proceedings of the Society of Biblical Archaeology_, 1914, p. 196, n.

23. A full transliteration and translation is promised later in the

_P.S.B.A._ If Mr Langdon’s reading of the tablet is accepted, this may

well prove to be the origin of all the “First Man” legends mentioned

on p. lxi, _supra_.

CHAPTER I

THE CONQUESTS OF ALEXANDER

A glance at the map of Asia at the coming of Alexander will convince us

that all but a corner of the world known to the ancients was then ruled

by a single power. The Persian Empire, sprawling like a huge octopus

over the centre of the continent, dominated it from its four capitals at

the head of the Persian Gulf, and stretched without a break from the

Caspian Sea to the Indian Ocean. In its eastern provinces were comprised

what is now Russian Turkestan from Krasnovodsk to Kashgar, with the

Khanates and the Pamirs, all Afghanistan, Seistan, Baluchistan, the

North-West Province, and part of the Punjab. On the western side of the

Great Central Desert came the countries which we now call Persia and

Turkey in Asia containing in themselves a territory half the size of the

Continent of Europe, together with the rich province to the south of the

Caucasus which has lately passed into the grip of Russia. From here one

long tentacle had stretched across the Sinaitic Peninsula and had seized

Egypt; and, although another had shrunk back hurt from its attack on

Greece, it yet held positions on the Bosphorus and the Hellespont which

formed a standing menace that the raid might be repeated. Apart from the

Greek States which, as has been well said, the Great King found easier

to control through their own venal orators than to conquer by his

soldiers, there remained outside his sway only the trading republic of

Carthage and the Italian cities just rising into prominence. Travellers’

tales, more than usually improbable and untrustworthy, were, indeed,

told of great countries swarming with men and fabulous monsters lying

beyond the African and Indian deserts on the southern, and the great

ranges of mountains on the eastern, frontier of the Empire[30]; but

these gave as little concern to its rulers as did the fringe of

barbarian tribes, Cimmerians, Hyperboreans, Gauls, and Scyths, who

filled up the space between the civilized world and the imaginary ring

of waters which was called the Outer Ocean.

That this vast dominion should be loosely compacted was of the nature of

things. The twenty or more provinces into which it was divided enjoyed a

large measure of self-government, and had preserved, for the most part,

their native laws and customs unaltered. Each of these divisions was

ruled by a satrap who, like a Chinese viceroy, was allowed to maintain

armies and even fleets of his own. But a check, imperfect no doubt but

still existent, was exercised over his proceedings by the presence of a

Royal Secretary in each satrapy, whose business it was to supervise the

accounts, and to send up regular reports to the capital of the doings,

of his coadjutor[31], while the troops were under the command of a

general appointed directly by the Crown. From time to time, also, a

Royal Commissioner called the King’s Eye visited the province with a

strong guard to hear complaints and to see that all was in order[32].

The satrap, too, only held his post during his master’s pleasure, and

was liable at any moment to be removed to another province, degraded, or

put to death, on the strength of a simple letter bearing the Royal Seal;

and the tribute which each satrapy had to pay to the Great King being

settled at a fixed and known amount, there was less chance than under

some similar systems of devolution that the satrap might squeeze out of

his subjects a sum far greater than that which he transmitted to the

Treasury[33]. Above all, the Persians were of Aryan stock, and early

showed signs of the talent for governing older races which seems to have

stuck to the Aryans throughout their history. They made excellent roads,

and established swift running posts that did much to make communication

easy between the most important parts of their empire; while, as the

satraps’ standing armies were composed either of native Persians or

hired mercenaries, the subject populations had an opportunity, rare

enough in the ancient world, of peacefully developing their internal

resources without constant fear of disturbance by foreign enemies, or

forced participation in wars of aggression[34]. It was only when the

word went forth from Babylon or Susa, Ecbatana or Persepolis, for the

calling-out of the Ban of the whole Empire that the other than Persian

subject of Artaxerxes or Darius had to join the levy of his satrapy,

and, on orders given to him through an interpreter, to assist the Great

King in crushing some rebellious satrap or repelling foreign invasion.

At other times, he must have known him only as a kind of divinity,

having power to throw down and to set up, to whom he might cry, not

always in vain, against the oppression of his own immediate ruler. Those

writers are no doubt justified who say that the government of the

Persian Empire was to the humbler classes of Asiatics a great

improvement upon any that had preceded it[35], and that the rule of the

Great King never awoke the fierce resentment in its subjects aroused by

the tyranny of the Semitic Assyrians, or of the Chaldeans who were, in

great part, of Mongoloid blood [36]. It was doubtless the memory of this

golden age, glorified as remembrances generally are by the lapse of

centuries, that brought about the reaction to the Persian form of

government and culture which we shall have to discuss later in the

countries bled white by the Roman proconsuls.

Throughout this vast realm, Alexander’s coming brought about a change

such as the civilized world has never seen before or since. Among the

world-conquerors who have been hailed as heroes in after times,

Alexander—surely the greatest individual known to history—stands

distinguished by the loftiness of his aims and the swiftness with which

they were attained. It is wonderful that a boy of twenty with an army

that cannot have exceeded 50,000 men all told should succeed in

overcoming practically the whole of Asia in less time than it took the

British Empire with the third of a million to break down the armed

resistance of a few thousand Boers. More wonderful is it that he should

a little later contrive to transport a force of about 100,000,

comprising infantry, cavalry and artillery, over the three thousand

miles that separate Macedonia from Karachi, at the same time preserving

such perfect communication with his base that he seems never to have

remained for long without letters from Europe, while the stream of

recruits that reached him from the same source must have been continuous

and unchecked[37]. Such a feat which, with all the aid which steam and

electricity can give us, would still tax to the utmost the powers of our

greatest modern generals, becomes almost miraculous when we think that

the greater part of his line of communications must have lain through

recently subjugated lands, and that his own advance led him into

countries unmapped and known only to him by the half fabulous tales of

his enemies[38]. But the most astonishing thing about these exploits is

that they were all performed with the conscious aim of making Asia

Greek[39], and in this respect, as in all others, they were both

original and successful. Everywhere that Alexander passed, he left

behind him cities peopled by a mixture of his own veterans, of those

camp followers which, then as now, have always stuck to a European army

on the march, and of natives of the country either found on the spot or

drawn from some other part of Asia; and the permanence of these

foundations still bears witness to the foreseeing eye of their founder.

Alexandria in Egypt, Candahar, Secunderabad, all preserve to this day

the memory of his royal name, and the continued importance of Khojend,

Samarcand, Herat, Merv, and Cabul out of the many other Alexandrias that

he established on his conquering way show that his statesmanlike

perception of the chief markets of the East was as sure as his

strategical insight[40]. Nor did he neglect other means of carrying out

the great design that he had at heart. In the great feast at Susa, which

he celebrated on his return from India, the “marriage of Europe and

Asia,” which had always formed his guiding idea, took visible shape. He

had already wedded—it is said for love—the beautiful Roxana, a princess

from Bactria in the Eastern (or Upper) Provinces of his new Empire[41],

and now he took as a second consort Statira, the daughter of Darius,

who, as the scion of the last native king of Persia, may be taken as the

representative of its western centre. Nearly a hundred of his superior

officers and some ten thousand of his humbler followers hastened to

follow his example and to receive Asiatic brides with the rich dowries

assigned them by the Conqueror[42]. Moreover the thirty thousand

youthful recruits from his new conquests, whom he had ordered five years

before to be trained in the Macedonian discipline and the Greek

language, now arrived[43], and Alexander set to work with his usual

energy to diffuse through his European army strong drafts of his Asiatic

subjects in order to cement still further the alliance between the two

Continents. Had he lived, it would have been a mixed army of Asiatics

and Europeans that he would have led the following year to the conquest

of the western world[44].

Destiny, however, is, as men would have said in those days, stronger

than the immortal gods, and Alexander’s early death put an instant stop

to all ideas of further conquest. It is idle, until we know the causes

of things, to speculate on what might have been; but it seems probable

that if Nearchus’ expedition had sailed, the Conqueror’s warlike plans

would once again have proved to have been perfectly laid, that he would

have crushed Carthage as easily as Thebes and Tyre, and that the Italian

States would have received the same master as the Bactrians and

Indians[45]. Yet so far as our immediate purpose is concerned,

Alexander’s work was done once for all, and the policy typified as the

marriage of Europe and Asia was perhaps as well served by his death as

by his life. During Persian times, the Court of the Great King had

always proved a magnet drawing to itself with irresistible force the

ever-restless Greeks, and the road to Susa was trodden in turn by

politicians like Alcibiades, leaders of mercenaries like Xenophon, and

Greek philosophers, artists, and courtezans innumerable. The traffic in

mercenaries alone must have been enormous when we find Greek troops

forming the stiffening of those huge armies of Darius which Alexander

overthrew at the Granicus, Issus, and Arbela[46]; while as for the other

sex, Themistocles, when turning his back on his own country, could find

no better or safer mode of approaching the Persian Court than in a

closed litter supposed to be conveying a Greek woman to the harem of the

Great King[47]. But when the century-long wars for the succession to

Alexander broke out upon his death, there straightway appeared five

courts where before there had been but one, and these were now ruled

over by Greek and not by Persian kings. Mercenaries of all kinds were in

urgent demand in every one of them, while the setting free of the

millions in bullion and specie found by Alexander in the Persian

capitals caused an outbreak of luxury like that which followed in

Germany the payment of the French milliards. Soon every Greek who had

strength, beauty, or talents to sell was on foot to seek his or her

fortune in Asia, and with them went everywhere the petty Greek trader,

as enterprising and as fearless in pursuit of gain as those countrymen

of his whose booths Lord Kitchener saw set up on the field of Omdurman

before the rout of the Mahdists was complete, and whose _locandas_ still

greet one in the smallest villages on the Nile. The stream of

fortune-hunters, now in full flood, quickly overflowed from the ancient

capitals to the numerous Antigonias, Antiochias, Lysimachias,

Nicomedias, and Seleucias which the new kings everywhere founded in

imitation of their dead master, and even the most distant provinces

began to receive their quota of Greek citizens and Greek culture. As has

happened more than once in history, Asia woke suddenly from her sleep,

and acquired a veneer of foreign manners in hardly longer time than it

has taken Japan in our own days to adopt European armaments, teaching

and dress. When the Parthians overcame Crassus, the Roman captives found

the barbarian victors amusing themselves with the plays of

Euripides[48]; while the Bactrian and Indian provinces, which the rise

of the Parthian power cut off from the western part of Alexander’s

Empire, conceived such a taste for Greek art that the statues of Buddha

with which their capitals were afterwards decorated were carved

according to Greek instead of Hindu canons[49]. The so-called Indo-Greek

kings of these parts, the Euthydemi, Diodoti, and Eucratidae, of whom we

know hardly more than the names, no more thought of using other than

Greek designs and inscriptions for their coins than did the rulers of

Pergamum or Antioch[50]. The generation that had seen Alexander face to

face was hardly in its grave before the marriage of Europe and Asia had

become a very real and pregnant fact.

The importance of this for the history of religions can hardly be

exaggerated. Greek was spoken everywhere throughout Asia, and for the

first time in the world’s history the inhabitants of the civilized part

of the earth had a common tongue in which they could communicate their

ideas to each other. No doubt the language spoken by the offspring of

Greek colonists and their native spouses was not the tongue of Sophocles

or of Demosthenes any more than it was “the strong-winged music of

Homer”; but it was a better medium for the transmission of metaphysical

theories than the founder of any world-religion has ever had at his

disposal before or since. The missionaries whom modern nations send into

the distant parts of the earth for the propagation of the Christian

faith find one of their worst difficulties in the impossibility of

rendering its doctrines into the languages of peoples at another stage

of culture from themselves; but no such barrier between teacher and

taught existed in the empire created by Alexander’s genius. The result

of this possibility of intercommunication of ideas was at once apparent.

Anxious to show that they too had a pedigree, the older nations of the

world seized the opportunity to inform their new masters of their own

history and traditions; and, as all history was in those days sacred

history, they thus introduced to the Greeks their gods and their beliefs

as to the divine governance of the world. The sacred books of the

Chaldeans, of the Egyptians, of the Jews, and no doubt of many other

peoples whose records are now lost to us, were translated into Greek;

and thus the science of the history of religions was born. Writers like

Diodorus Siculus and Plutarch are still our chief guides for the

religions of the earliest populated parts of the ancient world; but how

could these compilers have handed down to us the traditions they have

preserved save for writers like Berossus, Manetho, and Philo of Byblus,

who themselves wrote in Greek? Plutarch tells us that when he spent a

year in Rome during the reign of Trajan, he did not find it necessary to

learn Latin, his native tongue being apparently understood by everybody.

One may wonder how much of the sayings and doings of the Founder of

Christianity would have come down to us, had they not been first

recorded in the κοινή or _lingua franca_ of the whole East[51].

There were, however, other ways in which Alexander’s conquests prepared

the way for a religion which could make appeal to men of every nation

and language. Nothing is more difficult for those brought up in a

monotheistic faith, with its inbred contempt for the worshippers of many

gods, than to realize how the ancients regarded the Divine. The peoples

of classical antiquity seem to have everywhere believed in the gods of

their neighbours as absolutely as they did in their own, for they

imagined that their deities had, like men, only a limited sphere of

action, or, to put it scientifically, were subject to the same

conditions of space as their worshippers. Thus, the Syrians thought that

Yahweh of Israel was a mountain god, who could not help his people when

fighting in the plains[52], and the Philistines believed that the ark in

which he lived would bring prosperity or disaster to the place in which

it happened to be for the time being[53]. This is almost an exact

parallel to the tale of the prince of Bactria, whose daughter was freed

from demoniacal possession by an image of the Egyptian god Khonsu sent

into Asia _ad hoc_, whereupon he decided that it would be wise to keep

so powerful a god in his own country, and did so until frightened by a

dream into sending the statue back[54]. But such ideas, however natural

they may be to isolated or backward peoples, soon lost their hold upon

the acute and logical Greeks, when they came into contact with civilized

nations having pantheons differing widely from their own. The

philosophers, indeed, by dint of hard reasoning on the subject, had

formed before the time of Alexander a conception of the Supreme Being

which does not differ materially from that of the educated Christian of

the present day. “Loyal,” says Pater, “to the ancient beliefs, the

ancient usages, of the religions of many gods which he had found all

around him, Socrates pierces through it to one unmistakable Person, of

perfect intelligence, power, and goodness who takes note of him[55]”;

and the same thing might be said with even greater certainty of the

deductions of Aristotle[56], whose declared monotheism caused him to be

adopted in the Middle Ages as one of the Doctors of the Church. But

there is no reason to believe that such lofty conceptions ever

influenced in the slightest the beliefs of the common people, who alone

count for anything in the evolution of the organized body of beliefs and

practices which we call a religion. Socrates so successfully concealed

his opinions in this respect from everybody but Plato, that the clear

and practical mind of Xenophon seems to have never seen in him anything

but a polytheist[57]: and that Aristotle’s monotheistic teachings were

not intended for the common herd may be judged from the correspondence,

whether actual or imaginary, between him and Alexander himself, in which

the hero reproaches his former tutor for having published doctrines

which should only be taught by word of mouth, and learns in reply that

his metaphysical theories would be unintelligible save to those whom he

had himself instructed in philosophy[58].

It is evident, therefore, that the great mass of Alexander’s subjects,

whether Asiatics, Egyptians or Greeks, would require something more than

the sublime theorizing of the philosophers before their religious ideas

could be turned in the direction of monotheism. Nine hundred years

before, Amenhotep IV of Egypt had indeed been led by his adoration of

the material sun to put forward a religious reform which had as its

principal feature the proclaiming abroad that there was only one God, in

whose sight all mankind was equal; but the sole effect of this premature

attempt to elevate the religion of his people was the loss of the

external possessions of Egypt, and the posthumous branding of his own

memory as that of a criminal. Possibly, too, the Hebrew Psalmists and

Prophets had formed a like conception of the Deity when they asserted

that among the gods there was none like unto Yahweh[59]; but that this

idea seldom penetrated to their hearers is plain from their incessant

denunciation of these last for “whoring after” other gods. The mere

announcement of the unity of God had therefore in itself an insufficient

attraction for the masses, and for the doctrine to be popular they had

to be led to it by other ways than those of argument or authority. Now

Aristotle noted with his usual shrewdness of observation that the form

of religion in a state generally follows with fair closeness that of its

temporal government[60], so that men will be more inclined to believe in

what the Greeks called “monarchy,” or the active rule of One First

Cause, if they live under a despot or absolute king than if they are

members of a democracy. But when did the world either before or after

his time see such a beneficent and godlike despot as Alexander? The

robber-kings of Assyria had been accustomed to sweep across Western Asia

leaving behind them, as they boasted in their inscriptions, a trail of

vassal rulers impaled or flayed alive, of burnt cities, and of plundered

peoples. The Persians, as has been said, had more idea of the rights of

their inferiors, and did not regard their subject territories as mere

fields for exploitation; but the life of sensual luxury into which their

kings sooner or later subsided had its natural outcome in harem

intrigues and assassinations which deprived the central power of a great

part of its otherwise effective control over its satraps. But Alexander

was in this, as in all other respects, the perfect type of the

benevolent master who thinks more of his servants’ welfare than of his

own personal gratification. Neither his mother Olympias, domineering and

masterful as she was, nor his first mistress Barsine the widow of

Memnon, nor his wife Roxana of whom he is said to have been enamoured,

nor the Persian princess Statira to whom he gave his hand out of policy,

could boast that they ever influenced by one hairsbreadth the direction

of his sovereign will. As for his justice, the swift punishment that he

measured out on his return from India to those of his officers whom he

found guilty of oppression and malversation showed that under his

far-seeing eye there would be none of those abuses of delegated power

from which the satrapial system had suffered under his predecessors[61].

Modern historians have sometimes called him cruel; but in political

matters severity is often the truest mercy, and the blood that he shed

at Thebes and in Bactria probably saved a hundred times the number of

lives which unchecked rebellion would have made it necessary to

sacrifice; while the accidental and unpremeditated death of Clitus may

well be pardoned to one who found not only his dignity as man but his

royal authority wantonly outraged by a friend whom he had distinguished

by exceptional marks of kindness. In every other respect his record is

stainless. Although opposed at every step of his short career by orators

and demagogues who saw in him the only obstacle to their unrestrained

plunder of the fatherland, no legend has survived to his dishonour. On

the contrary, all that we hear of him shows us for the first time in the

world’s history a conqueror who was at the same time a just and wise

ruler, merciful to his fallen foe, scorning even in war to take mean

advantage[62], and chivalrous to the weak to a degree that his age could

neither understand nor imitate[63]. And with all this, he united in his

own person those superficial advantages which have always been quick to

win for their possessor the devotion of the mob. To a talent for

generalship which neither Hannibal, Caesar, nor any modern general has

equalled, he joined a personal bravery which often reached the level of

recklessness and was always to be found in the forefront of the hottest

battle. Whether we see him charging at the head of the Companion cavalry

in the three great battles with Darius, pursuing with a handful of his

guard the routed Persian army after Arbela, or first over the wall at

Mooltan, Alexander is always performing these feats of hardihood which

in a leader strike more than anything the imagination of his soldiers.

Add to this a generosity which made him willing to strip himself of his

possessions to enrich his friends, a personal delight in that pomp and

pageantry which forms the most direct road to the hearts of the

proletariat, and a form, face and figure so distinguished that their one

defect was for centuries after imitated by all who wished to be thought

models of manly beauty[64], and we can no longer wonder that his

contemporaries looked upon him as more than human. This wise and

provident ruler of the world that he had conquered was at the same time

a youth beautiful as Apollo, chivalrous as Bayard, clean as Galahad. Is

it surprising that his name alone of all the conquerors of the East has

endured through all changes of creed and culture, that the fierce chiefs

of the Central Asian tableland still boast of him as their progenitor,

and that the whole Mahommedan world still hold him the king of the

believing Genii? No Caesar, Attila, or Genghiz Khan has ever thus

impressed the imagination of future ages[65].

Thus Alexander’s coming gave an enormous impulse to that monarchical

principle of government which from his time onward was to reign supreme

for nearly two thousand years. Philosophers and sophists hastened to

declare that democracy—as was indeed the fact—had proved itself

incapable of governing, and that in the rule of one man was to be found

the natural order of things and the only security for a well-ordered

State[66]. Every one of the Diadochi or Successors of Alexander hurried

in turn to assume the diadem, and Rome had no sooner contrived to crush

her rival republic of Carthage than she too fell under the sway, first

of dictators whose power was admittedly despotic, and then of emperors

whose constitutional limitations were about the same as those of

Alexander. That this was certain in time to react upon the universal

conception of the Divine, followed directly from the law underlying

religious phenomena which had been enunciated by Aristotle: but, before

this could make way among the Greeks, thus suddenly promoted to the

position of the ruling race, it was necessary that their own gods should

be assimilated to those of their eastern fellow-subjects, or in other

words, should be shown to be the same divinities under different names.

Now, a movement with this object, even before Alexander’s coming, had

been set on foot in Greece itself, and was in fact the natural outcome

of the ideas as to the origin and governance of the universe brought

there by the philosophers of Ionia[67]. It was all very well for the

masses—then as now, much given to pragmatism or the reduction of every

abstract idea to its most material and practical expression—to believe

that the power of every god was limited to an area of so many square

feet surrounding his image or sanctuary; but how could such a notion be

held by philosophers who had sought out the causes of things, by

travellers who had visited neighbouring countries in pursuit of

knowledge, or by soldiers who had fought there, and had found it

necessary to pay reverence to gods other than their own? It is said that

in naturalistic religions like those of Greece, there is always a

tendency to consider as identical divinities with the same or like

characteristics—to consider for instance all gods with solar attributes

as but different forms of the sun-god—and the Greeks of the fourth

century B.C. had thus taken many foreign gods into their pantheon. It

was, as Socrates found out to his cost, an offence to bring the worship

of new gods into the city; but the difficulty was got over by the theory

that the foreign divinity was only another form of some god already

worshipped by the citizens[68], and by keeping his cult as private as

possible. Later, when the popularity of the new deity seemed to be

assured, an oracle of Delphi was generally secured authorizing the

adoption of his worship under the name of his nearest Greek analogue,

and in this way many foreign worships were brought into Athens

itself[69]. Bendis, the moon-goddess of Thrace, had there from early

times a temple or Bendideion[70], and the Syrian Adonis was publicly

wailed for in the city when Alcibiades was setting out for Sicily[71].

This, too, was the more natural because the Greeks always acknowledged

that their older divinities originally came to them from foreign parts.

The myths in which the traditions of their origins were preserved gave

Crete or Asia Minor as the birthplace of Zeus, an island in the Aegean

as that of Apollo and Artemis, and the whole scene of the earthly trials

of Demeter and Persephone was laid partly in Eleusis and partly in

Asia[72]. As for Africa, Herodotus boldly asserts that the “names” of

almost all the gods worshipped by the Greeks came from Egypt[73], and,

although this is certainly not literally true, it gave him an excuse for

identifying all the Egyptian deities of whom he had any knowledge with

the Greek divinities whom he thought they resembled. But when

Alexander’s conquests had made the different subject nations really

acquainted with each other’s religion, the process of _theocrasia_ or

the fusion of one god with another received an impulse that carried it

beyond all bounds[74]. The divinities of Asia Minor were naturally the

first to be taken into the Greek pantheon, especially by the Athenians,

always mindful of their Ionian kinship; and the many-breasted goddess of

Ephesus, Cybele of Pessinus with her consort Atys or Attis, and the

Sidonian Astarte, were all worshipped in Greece after identification

with different Greek deities in the manner that had served to naturalize

the “Thracian” or Thessalian Dionysos, and the (probably) Egyptian

Hermes[75]. As we shall see later, the Phrygian Sabazius and the Cretan

Zagreus had already preceded them in secret, and Persian, Jewish, and

perhaps Indian gods were to follow. From Greece, the passion for

_theocrasia_ spread both eastward and westward. The Greek kings of Upper

India found it necessary to identify on their monuments the gods of

their native subjects with the divinities of Homer[76], and those of the

Central Provinces and of Asia Minor did the same with such effect that

it is almost impossible for us to distinguish their many Artemises,

Aphrodites, and different forms of Zeus from the gods worshipped under

similar names in ancient Greece[77]. As for the West, the Romans, even

before they became the masters of the world, took over the Greek

pantheon _en bloc_ by the simple process of calling their own Italian

deities by Greek names; and if we still speak of Zeus as Jupiter, Athena

as Minerva, Ares as Mars, and Hermes as Mercury, it is by reason of the

syncretism brought into fashion by Alexander’s conquests.

Neither must we forget that the deification of Alexander during his

lifetime brought an entirely new conception of the Divine into the

European world. The divinization of the king was indeed no new thing in

Egypt, where the Pharaoh from the earliest times was looked upon after

his enthronement as the living form of the sun-god Horus; but to the

religious ideas of the Greeks it was evidently a surprising shock. The

distinguishing attribute of a Greek god was his deathlessness or

incorruptibility; and although heroes like Theseus and Heracles were

fabled to have become immortal and therefore fit subjects for worship,

this was only because they were in the natural way the progeny of the

gods themselves, and as such were taken into heaven by their fathers

after death and the purging away of their mortal nature[78]. Alexander,

on the other hand, demanded from the Greeks as from his other subjects

divine honours during his life, and these were accorded to him with

servile readiness by the governments of Athens and other Greek

city-states, the Spartans not excepted[79]. What he meant exactly by

this demand it would be hard to say, because his supposed sonship to

Amen on which it was ostensibly based, was, as Sir Gaston Maspero has

shown, merely the form by which, on a change of dynasty, the priests of

Amen were accustomed to legitimize the accession to the throne of a king

who could show no right thereto but force[80]. It is evident, too, that

Alexander did not himself take his deification very seriously, since he

allowed its propriety to be discussed before him at a wine-party[81];

and his apologists, Arrian and Plutarch, are possibly well-founded when

they declare that it was a mere political device to secure the grudging

obedience of his Macedonian countrymen[82]. But his successors in this

matter went far beyond him. Ptolemy and Arsinoe, without any pretence of

divine descent, were proclaimed “Saviour-gods” for their Greek as well

as for their Egyptian subjects quite apart from any identification of

themselves with Horus or any other native deity. Antigonus, when

claiming to be the _strategos_ or generalissimo of the whole Empire, was

hailed as a god, which drew from the rough old king a repartee more

pointed than decent[83]. So, too, was his son, Demetrius the City Taker,

although at the time of his deification he had not even an independent

kingdom of his own, but was merely ruling Greece as the viceroy of his

father. And the barriers between the Divine and the human being thus

broken down, men’s minds soon became so familiar with the idea that they

not only thought men might become gods, but declared that the gods were

only deified men. The Athenians in the hymns that they sang to Demetrius

declared that he was the only true god, and that the others were either

asleep or too far off to be taken into account, or were not really gods

at all[84]. But it is not with impunity that the religious ideas of a

people can be thus suddenly and violently affronted. Within a few years

from Alexander’s death, Cassander’s friend and envoy Euhemerus put

forward, with the aid of a literary fraud something like that of

Psalmanazar, the theory that all the gods worshipped by the Greeks had

once been kings or at least distinguished men and women upon earth[85]—a

doctrine that was received with as much enthusiasm in the Rome of the

Republic as it once evoked in our own days among the followers of

Herbert Spencer[86]. Later, the Epicurean philosophy, with its happy

gods neither interfering with nor caring about the doings of mankind,

came to the assistance of this rather crude atheism. Although the Stoic

philosophers in their turn tried to introduce a more lofty idea of the

Deity, it was probably not until late Roman times that they ever

obtained anything like a grip on the people. Whether for good or ill, it

is certain that the Greeks after Alexander’s death never returned to the

simple faith in their national gods which had sufficed for their

forefathers.

This is a point that it is important to remember, because without it, it

is hard to understand the passion for innovation in religious matters

which seems for the next three centuries to possess unchecked sway over

mankind. It appeared as if Alexander, who indeed had made all things

new, had set free the gods of the ancient world to wander from one end

of his Empire to the other, and the desire to proselytize appears for

the first time in the world’s history. Buddhism must have been prevalent

in India for nearly a century before Alexander; but when it became the

religion of the state in the reign of Asoka, grandson of that

Chandragupta or Sandracottus who had talked with Alexander face to face,

the Indian king boasted that he had sent out missionaries for the

propagation of his new faith to the courts of Antiochus of Syria,

Ptolemy of Egypt, Antigonus of Macedonia, Magas of Cyrene and Alexander

of Epirus[87]. Whether the Indian missionaries ever reached the kings to

whom they were sent may be doubted, and it is certain that these last

did not pay the attention to them that Asoka claims; but it is quite

possible that to the impulse given by such missions may be attributed

some of the practices of the Jewish sect of the Essenes, and perhaps the

monastic seclusion affected by certain worshippers of the Alexandrian

god Serapis[88]. But if Buddhism could thus find its way westward from

so distant a country as India, how much more must this have been the

case with the other Oriental religions with which the Greeks had already

some slight acquaintance, and which, as we shall see in the sequel,

poured into Europe in such a flood that Juvenal compared it to the

Orontes emptying itself into the Tiber. That the Greeks, ever eager for

some new thing, were quick to avail themselves of the new ideas thus

thrust upon them was only to be expected. But this rage for novelty was

too violent to be content to follow the slow process of assimilation or

_theocrasia_ which was prevalent before Alexander. Religious

associations for the worship of foreign gods were formed in which we

may, if we like, see the first germs of the Christian Church[89]. In

these each member had to pay a subscription towards the expenses of the

cult, and the office-bearers instead of being appointed by the State

were either taken from the members in rotation or chosen by lot. That

these confraternities, as we should now call them, were at first

composed of natives of countries other than Greece is shown by their

clustering in the port of the Piraeus as the quarter where foreigners

naturally congregated[90]; and their male members for the most part

consisted of slaves, freedmen, and stranger merchants, who thus found a

meeting-place in what was to them a foreign country. Their worship too

was secret or rather was confined to members of the confraternity only,

while its correctness of form was preserved by means of written books or

rituals, thereby presenting many points of resemblance to that of the

later Gnostics. But the superstitious, and especially the women who were

always in Greece much addicted to _theoxenia_ or the reception of

strange gods, were early attracted by them, and they soon spread to

every great city in the Empire. Thus we see for the first time in

history bodies of men and women banded together, irrespective of

nationality and social rank, for the purpose of religious observances,

and religion becoming recognized as the affair of the individual rather

than of the state, while each member of the association was directly

interested in its extension. In this way, the Greeks became worshippers

not only of their own sufficiently numerous deities but of those of well

nigh the whole East as well. Their inscriptions show that Persian,

Phrygian, and Lydian gods were worshipped by these associations,

together with a whole crowd of Semitic deities among whom, if M. Cumont

is right, there may even have been included the God of Israel[91].

The influence that these confraternities exercised in familiarizing the

minds of the Greek citizens with the religious practices and tenets of

foreign countries must have been very great. Every such association had

a temple of its own, in which it offered sacrifices to its own

particular god. But, after providing for this, the greater part of the

subscriptions went in providing a periodical banquet at which its

members could meet for social intercourse, and to which they were no

doubt sometimes allowed to bring guests. But at these gatherings, as

apparently at all others of the confraternity, all were equal, and there

were no distinctions of rank. Moreover, in addition to the foreign

members for whom the institution was originally designed, they must

early have begun to admit Greeks; and these were generally, though not

always, persons who were in the first instance led to them by a leaning

to foreign superstitions, and particularly to that orgiastic ritual with

which the worship of the Asiatic gods was generally associated in Greek

minds. It is noteworthy that among the Greek names inscribed upon the

stelae containing the lists of members that have come down to us, those

of women are far more numerous than those of men. Yet they seldom seem

to have been of the highest class in their own community, and it is

difficult to conceive of a Greek matron leaving her gynaeceum to take

part with slaves and freedmen in nocturnal feasts or orgies. Among those

whom we know otherwise as belonging to these confraternities are Phryne

the celebrated courtezan, Tryphera and Aristion, who followed the same

manner of life[92], and Glaucothea the mother of Æschines and a

perfume-seller, a trade then considered as disreputable as in the reign

of Louis XIV[93]. On the other hand, it seems to follow from what

Plutarch says, that King Philip of Macedon first saw and loved Olympias,

mother of Alexander, at a meeting of one of these confraternities[94],

and it is possible that outside Greece proper they lost something of

their disreputable associations.

It must not be supposed, however, that these associations concerned

themselves entirely with what we now call religion. The state, in cities

like Athens, regarded them with great jealousy, and did its best to

prevent them from forming a hierarchy by stipulating that their officers

should only hold office for a year. This naturally prevented any

continuity of policy such as a corporation like the priesthood of Amen

could pursue, and set their chiefs upon making hay while the sun shone.

Ignorant and degraded as most of their members were, and generally

engaged in the pursuit of gain, it is not astonishing that they should

thus have lent themselves to the worst and most dangerous because most

profitable superstitions. The priests and especially the priestesses of

the confraternities were always ready to lend themselves to the

practices of divination and magic, to the sale of love-philtres and

poisons[95], the interpretations of dreams and miraculous cures. To

these charlatans came everyone who wanted his or her fortune told, or

who wished to get rid of a rival, or to obtain the favour of a

disdainful lover, or was simply tormented with idle fears or by some

bodily disease incurable by regular means.

“The set of charlatans and market-men who hang about and wait round

the altars of the Great Mother and Serapis; and who manufacture

oracles either out of their own heads or by haphazard out of certain

books for the benefit of house-slaves and silly women”

is the contemptuous way in which Plutarch describes these impostors[96].

Yet even in this way much was doubtless done to spread the knowledge of

foreign religions; for many must have resorted to the foreign temples

for magic or divination who would never have thought of joining the

association by which they were maintained, and in magic it is always the

least known gods and those worshipped by the races of lowest culture who

are thought to be the most powerful. Moreover, many of these

associations in time purified themselves by a sort of process of

elimination from these undesirable accessories, and, so soon as they

succeeded in attracting the adhesion of a sufficient number of

respectable people, managed to get the god they were formed to worship

enrolled among the native deities of the state or city. It was in this

way that foreign gods like Serapis and Mithras, from being the

divinities of a handful of foreign slaves, merchants or hostages, came,

as we shall see, to occupy the highest places in the national worship of

the Roman Empire. Thus Lucian tells us the story of the impostor

Alexander of Abonoteichos, who with the help of a tame serpent with a

cardboard mask gave himself out as the priest of an incarnation of

Asklepios the Greek god of healing, and founded an association for its

worship in Nicomedia in Bithynia. Later, he persuaded one Rutilianus, a

man of consular rank who seems to have had influence at the Court of

Marcus Aurelius, to join him in the propagation of his new cult and even

to marry his daughter[97]. But the worship that he thus set up must have

afterwards been recognized by the city of Nicomedia, for we find the

representation of its god Glycon upon a Nicomedian coin of the time of

the Emperor Gordian, the husband of Tranquillina[98].

It was apparently in these associations that the new spirit now manifest

in the religion of the ancient world began to take organized shape.

Among the Persians and Egyptians the priests were officers of state

living on the property of their several corporations, and therefore with

a natural leaning, except in the rare cases where their privileges or

property were threatened by the Crown, against all innovations and

interference with the established order of things. Among the Greeks,

both in Hellas itself and in her colonies oversea, the priests with a

very few exceptions were chosen from the native-born citizens at large

either for their personal beauty, or for the wealth which enabled them

to give in honour of the gods magnificent pageants and other

festivals[99]. In no case did they regard themselves as having any

teaching or pastoral mission, and were in no way interested in

increasing the number of the worshippers of the god to whose service

they were elected for a short term. Hence, their chief preoccupation was

to keep strictly to precedent in the celebration of the public acts of

worship entrusted to them, and they would have looked with horror on any

alteration of the traditional rites. But in the associations founded for

the worship of foreign gods, affairs were conducted on utterly different

lines. There seems to have been a healthy spirit of emulation among the

successive holders of the priestly office, for the vote of thanks

inscribed on marble and displayed in the temple for the admiration of

the confraternity was the distinction most sought after by them, and the

deprivation of it was the most serious penalty exacted for dereliction

of duty[100]. In order to obtain these rewards, it is plain that the

officers had to carry out to the full the Apostolic injunction to be all

things to all men, and there is actually a case on record where a

priestess is praised because during her term of office she has offended

nobody. This complaisance seems to have extended itself from the

officials to the deities worshipped, who seem often to have been quite

willing to fulfil a double office, and to appear as Aphrodite or Astarte

to the Syrian and as Cybele to the Phrygian members of the

association[101]. By these means, they made it possible for several

nationalities to belong to the same association.

There was probably, however, a more intellectual side to this spirit of

accommodation. All, or nearly all, of these associations celebrated

mysteries or sacred dramas based on the same lines as the Eleusinian and

setting forth, it would seem, the passion, death, and resurrection of

some god. These plays, when we consider the relatively slender number of

the initiates and the limited means at their disposal, must generally

have been acted with maimed and abbreviated rites in which a good deal

was left to the imagination of the beholder. But this very fact must

have set the always curious and inquisitive Greeks upon enquiry into the

nature and origin of the scenes thus indicated rather than acted, and

this in its turn must have led to many discussions and explanations of

the gods there portrayed. For such conversations, too, there must have

been far greater opportunities in the case of those _thiasi_,

_orgeones_, or _erani_ (as these associations were called), where

members were few and in the habit of meeting each other daily than with

the Eleusinian rites which were celebrated only once or twice a year and

then in the presence of a huge crowd dispersed immediately after to the

different parts of the Hellenic world. It is hardly putting it too

strongly to say that anything like propagandism must have been confined

to the smaller societies.

To sum up, then, Alexander united the whole civilized world for the

first time under a single head and gave to it a common language and

culture. By the natural gifts of his extraordinary personality, he at

the same time set before it a perfect model of kingship and thus ensured

the persistence of the monarchical principle for two millenia. This, his

conscious work, had a direct effect on the evolution of monotheism,

while in other respects his conquests proved the turning point in the

history of religions. By breaking down the barriers which racial and

lingual divisions had hitherto set up between different nations of the

earth, these conquests led to a great fusion of the religions hitherto

professed by them, and thus opened the door to the world-religions which

were afterwards to share between them his vast Empire. Before his coming

we see the ancient world divided into separate communities each with its

own pantheon and forms of worship and neither knowing nor caring greatly

about those of its neighbours. But immediately after, all this is

changed. The interchange of ideas between East and West has thrown the

different religions of the world as it were into a melting-pot, in which

the germs of a different grouping of the human race are dimly visible.

The spirit of proselytism is abroad, and man now wants to impress his

own ideas of the Divine upon his fellows. Above all, we see the

beginning of those great associations of mankind for religious purposes

which are henceforth to be the principal factors in the world’s history,

and whose evolution has continued unchecked down to the present day. All

those that followed Alexander were in this respect nothing more than his

conscious or unconscious imitators. The great princes and generals who

after his death parted his Empire among them, and the Romans who

gradually ate up the fragments left to these princes’ effete

descendants, could but carry on the work set on foot by the Great

Conqueror. As Mr Hogarth has said, very little that he did was ever

undone, and for good or ill, he has taken his place among the

immortals[102]. Thus, from the scientific point of view, there is none

among the forerunners of Christianity who did more to prepare and make

ready its way than Alexander.

Footnote 30:

Such as the Arimaspi or one-eyed inhabitants of Russia, about whom

Herodotus (Bk III. c. 116) quotes the legend that they stole gold from

its griffin guardians, and those _myrmeces_ or great ants whom

Megasthenes (Strabo, Bk XV. c. 1, § 44) and other writers describe as

digging for gold on the Thibetan frontier—a story of which more than

one rationalistic explanation has been suggested.

Footnote 31:

Rawlinson’s _Herodotus_ (1862 edition), II. p. 462 for authorities.

Footnote 32:

Maspero, _Histoire ancienne des Peuples de l’Orient_, Paris, 1904, p.

706. Rawlinson, _op. cit._ p. 463, thinks this practice lapsed early,

but Xenophon seems clear that it was in force in his time

(_Cyropaedia_, Bk VIII. c. 6).

Footnote 33:

He was probably allowed a reasonable sum for the maintenance of his

court and government; but if he exceeded this, was liable to severe

punishment. This appears from the execution by Alexander, on his

return from India, of the satraps who had been guilty of extortion. He

seems to have purposely preserved the Persian laws and customs on this

point unaltered.

Footnote 34:

This is the opinion of Rawlinson, _op. cit._ pp. 460 _sqq._

Footnote 35:

Rawlinson, _op. cit._ p. 464; Winwood Reade, _Martyrdom of Man_, 1910,

p. 56; Sayce, _Ancient Empires of the East_, 1884, pp. 250, 251;

Maspero, _op. cit._ p. 721.

Footnote 36:

Oppert, _Le Peuple et la Langue des Mèdes_, Paris, pp. 17 _sqq._;

Maspero, _op. cit._ p. 559, n. 11.

Footnote 37:

Sir Thomas Holdich, in his excellent book _The Gates of India_ (p.

104), says that when he defeated the Aspasians or Yusufzai in the

Kuner Valley he sent the pick of their cattle back to Macedonia to

improve the native breed. Arrian, _Anabasis_, Bk IV. c. 25, however,

in quoting the story from Ptolemy, says only that Alexander “wished to

send them” to till the soil. It seems impossible that they could have

survived the journey before the days of steamships. Still more

incredible is the story in Plutarch, _Life of Alexander_, c. L. that

when Alexander was at Prophthasia (probably Farrah in Seistan), he

received some grapes grown on the coast of Greece. But such stories,

although coloured by age, may serve to show how perfect his

communications were always thought to have been.

Footnote 38:

Holdich, _op. cit._ _passim_, says that he must have had information

from Persian sources, and that his route must have been laid

beforehand. Sir Thomas’ opinion, as that of a soldier as well as a

student, is entitled to much respect. Yet the instances of Genghiz

Khan and other Oriental invaders are perhaps against any such

necessity.

Footnote 39:

Freeman, _Historical Essays_, 1873, second series, pp. 192, 193.

Footnote 40:

Khojend was probably Alexandria _eschata_ or the furthest (East).

Samarcand, of which the ancient name was Maracanda, is said by Baber

to be a foundation of Alexander’s. Herat was Alexandria Ariana, and

Merv probably Alexandria Margiana, while Cabul seems to have been

Ortospana. Among the other Alexandrias which have retained their old

importance are Alexandria Arachosiana or Candahar, Alexandria

Caucasiana or Begram, and Alexandria Sogdiana or Hyderabad. See J. W.

McCrindle, _Invasion of India by Alexander the Great_, 1896, pp. 36

_sqq._, and Droysen, _Histoire de l’Hellénisme_, (French edition),

Paris, 1883, I. pp. 408 _sqq._

Footnote 41:

Droysen, _op. cit._ p. 481.

Footnote 42:

See last note. The second marriage is dramatically described by

Droysen, _op. cit._ I. pp. 638, 639. Cf. Arrian, _Anabasis_, Bk VII.

c. 4; Plutarch, _Alexander_, c. LXX.

Footnote 43:

Arrian, _op. cit._ Bk VII. c. 6; Plutarch, _Alexander_, c. LXXI. Cf.

Droysen, _op. cit._ I. p. 646.

Footnote 44:

Droysen, _op. cit._ I. p. 660. It was probably the fear of this

mixture that caused the quarrel between him and his Macedonians at

Opis. See Arrian, _op. cit._ Bk VII. c. 8; Plutarch, _Alexander_, c.

LXXI.

Footnote 45:

Droysen, _op. cit._ II. p. 34. Mahaffy, _Alexander’s Empire_, 1887, p.

38, thinks that the Romans could never have withstood Alexander’s

cavalry and siege artillery, although he notes that Livy patriotically

decided otherwise.

Footnote 46:

Droysen, _op. cit._ I., pp. 186, 240, 333. There were 30,000 Greek

mercenaries fighting on the side of Darius at Issus, and 4000 of these

remained faithful till his death. _Ibid._ I. p. 368.

Footnote 47:

Plutarch, _Themistocles_, c. XXVI.

Footnote 48:

Plutarch, _Crassus_, c. XXXIII. The play acted was the _Bacchae_, and

a Greek tragic actor, one Jason of Tralles, had been imported for the

principal part. In the essay _De Alex. fortitudine_, I. c. 5, Plutarch

says that no sooner had Alexander subdued Asia than Homer became a

favourite reading-book, and Persian, Susianan, and Gedrosian boys

learned to chant the tragedies of Sophocles and Euripides.

Footnote 49:

Droysen, _op. cit._ III. pp. 244, 255.

Footnote 50:

Sylvain Lévi, “Bouddhisme et les Grecs,” _Revue de l’Histoire des

Religions_, 1891, p. 2; Percy Gardner, _Catalogue of Bactrian and

Indian Coins in British Museum_. Arts other than the plastic also

received attention. Amitrochates, son of the famous Chandragupta or

Sandracottus, wrote to Antiochus (Soter?) to buy him some sweet wine,

dried figs, and a sophist. He received the other commodities, but was

told that it was not lawful to sell sophists in Greece. See Athenaeus,

_Deipnosophistae_, Bk XIV. c. 67 quoting Hegesander.

Footnote 51:

Droysen, _op. cit._ III. p. 66. Cf. the _Omnis Oriens loquitur_ of St

Jerome _Prol. ad Epist. ad Galatas_; and Deissmann, _New Light on the

New Testament_ (English edition), 1907, p. 30.

Footnote 52:

1 Kings xx. 23.

Footnote 53:

1 Sam. iv. 6, 7.

Footnote 54:

Maspero, “La Fille du Prince de Bakhtan” in _Contes Populaires de

l’Ancienne Égypte_, Paris, p. 159.

Footnote 55:

Pater, _Plato and Platonism_, 1901, pp. 85, 86.

Footnote 56:

Aristotle, _Metaphysica_, Bk XI. c. 6.

Footnote 57:

Xenophon, _Memorabilia_, Bk I. c. 1, § 1-5.

Footnote 58:

Plutarch, _Alexander_, c. VII.

Footnote 59:

So F. H. Woods, _The Hope of Israel_, Edinburgh, 1896, p. 205, where

he speaks of the religion of the Prophets and Psalmists, as “giving,

on the whole, by far the most perfect and, as compared with other

ancient literature, practically a unique example of monotheism.” Yet

as Winwood Reade points out, Solomon must have thought there were

other gods than Yahweh, because he worshipped other gods; _op. cit._

_supra_, p. 201.

Footnote 60:

Aristotle, _Politica_, Bk I. c. 2, § 7. Cf. Max Müller, _Religions of

India_ (Hibbert Lectures), 1880, p. 292.

Footnote 61:

Arrian, _op. cit._ Bk VI. c. 27.

Footnote 62:

See his repudiation of the night attack advised at Arbela: οὐ κλέπτω

τὴν νίκην, “I steal no victory!” Plutarch, _Alexander_, c. XXXI.

Footnote 63:

Plutarch, _op. cit._ c. XXI. and c. XXX.

Footnote 64:

The wry neck or, in Mr Hogarth’s words, “the famous inclination of his

beautiful head towards the left shoulder” was imitated by dandies as

late as the time of Severus. For authorities see Hogarth, _Philip and

Alexander of Macedon_, 1897, p. 278, n. 2.

Footnote 65:

Droysen, _op. cit._ I. p. 218 and p. 479, n. 1. Major P. H. Sykes

lately found an inscription in Khorassan to Sulayman Shah who reigned

from 1667-1694 A.D. containing the words “His audience-chamber is the

Sun; his Army the Stars; his authority is like Alexander’s,” _Journal

of the Royal Asiatic Society_, 1910, pp. 1152, 1153.

Footnote 66:

Bouché-Leclercq, _Hist. des Lagides_, Paris, t. I. p. 130, n. 2,

points out that there was hardly a philosopher during the next three

centuries who did not write a treatise Περὶ τῆς βασιλείας.

Footnote 67:

A parallel movement seems to have taken place in Babylonia, where all

the gods were at one period identified with Marduk or Merodach. See

Pinches, “Religious Ideas of the Babylonians,” _Transactions of the

Victoria Institute_, 1893, p. 10.

Footnote 68:

Maury, _Histoire des Religions de la Grèce Antique_, Paris, 1857, III.

p. 73.

Footnote 69:

Demosthenes, _v. Midias_, p. 53; Herodotus, Bk VII. c. 189. Such gods

were called by the peculiar epithet of πυθόχρηστοι. See inscription

from Smyrna quoted by Rayet, _Revue Archéologique_, 1877, pp. 115-128.

Footnote 70:

Xenophon, _Hellenica_, Bk II. c. 4.

Footnote 71:

Plutarch, _Alcibiades_, c. CXVIII. Cf. Aristophanes, _Lysistrata_, ll.

387 _sqq._

Footnote 72:

Homeric _Hymn to Demeter_, _passim_.

Footnote 73:

Herodotus, Bk II. c. 50.

Footnote 74:

Droysen, _op. cit._ I. p. 698.

Footnote 75:

See Maury, _Rel. de la Grèce_, t. III. cc. 15, 16. Aristophanes,

_Horae_ fragment 1 of Didot, and _Aves_, l. 874, is practically the

earliest witness for their introduction into Athens. Cf. the Scholiast

upon the last passage quoted, for their identification with Greek

deities. M. Paul Foucart, _Les Associations Religieuses chez les

Grecs_, Paris, 1873, pp. 57 and 85, shows the great rush of foreign

gods into Attica after the Persian War and the mode in which their

worship was propagated.

Footnote 76:

Percy Gardner, _Catalogue of Coins_, etc., _passim_. Goblet

d’Alviella, _Ce que l’Inde doit à la Grèce_, Paris, 1897, p. 73, notes

that these coins reproduce “the usual type of the classical divinities

Hercules, Dionysos, Poseidon, Helios, Pallas, Artemis, Niké.”

Footnote 77:

Droysen, _op. cit._ III. p. 73.

Footnote 78:

Callisthenes appears to have used this argument against the

deification of Alexander during his lifetime, Arrian, _Anabasis_, Bk

IV. c. 11. Cf. Budge, _Pseudo Callisthenes’ History of Alexander the

Great_, Cambridge, 1889, Bk III. c. 19, p. 135; Plutarch, _Pelopidas_,

c. XVI.

Footnote 79:

Droysen, _op. cit._ I. p. 668.

Footnote 80:

Maspero, “Comment Alexandre devenait Dieu.” _Annuaire de l’École des

Hautes Études_, Paris, 1897; _id._ _Ét. Égyptol._ t. VI. pp. 286

_sqq._

Footnote 81:

Mr Hogarth, _Philip and Alexander_, pp. 197 _sqq._, rightly points out

that he never instituted any cult of himself, as did Demetrius

Poliorcetes.

Footnote 82:

Plutarch, _Alexander_, c. XXVIII.; Arrian, _Anabasis_, Bk VII. c. 29.

Footnote 83:

Plutarch, _de Is. et Os._ c. XXIV.; _id. Apophthegmata Antigon_. 7.

Cf. Droysen, _op. cit._ II. p. 295. Mr Tarn in his _Antigonos

Gonatas_, Oxford, 1913, p. 251, would transfer the story to his

grandson, but his reasoning is not convincing.

Footnote 84:

Athenaeus, _Deipnosoph_. Bk VI. c. 62.

Footnote 85:

Droysen, _op. cit._ III. p. 22 and note 2.

Footnote 86:

Euhemerus’ work was one of the first Greek books to be translated into

Latin. See Cicero, _De Nat. Deor._ c. 42.

Footnote 87:

Droysen, _op. cit._ III. p. 341, n. 3. Rhys Davids, _Buddhist India_,

1903, p. 298, thinks it possible that the missions although duly

recorded on stone were never sent.

Footnote 88:

See Chapter II _infra_.

Footnote 89:

Foucart, _Les Associations Religieuses_, etc., pp. 66-84. Cf. Maury,

_Rel. de la Grèce_, II. p. 427. The composition of hymns was

peculiarly the care of these associations; Foucart, _op. cit._ p. 114.

Footnote 90:

Foucart, _op. cit._ p. 85.

Footnote 91:

Franz Cumont, “Hypsistos,” _Revue de l’Instruction publique en

Belgique_, 1897, pp. 5-6; _id._ _Les Religions Orientales dans le

Paganisme Romain_, Paris, 1906, p. 155 and note.

Footnote 92:

Foucart, _Ass. Rel._ pp. 135, 136, 158.

Footnote 93:

See Chapter IV _infra_.

Footnote 94:

Plutarch, _Alexander_, c. II.

Footnote 95:

See Foucart, _op. cit._ p. 158, for the cases of Ninos and Theoris,

priestesses who were condemned for such traffic.

Footnote 96:

Plutarch, _Pythian Responses_, c. XXV.

Footnote 97:

Lucian, _Alexander or Pseudomantis_, _passim_. The story is well

summarized by Sir Samuel Dill, in _Nero to Marcus_, pp. 473 _sqq._

Footnote 98:

Léon Fivel, “Le Dieu Glycon à Nicomédie,” _Gazette Archéol._ 1879, p.

186.

Footnote 99:

Maury, _Rel. de la Grèce_, II. pp. 418 _sqq._ Cf. Döllinger,

_Judenthum und Heidenthum_ (English edition), I. p. 214.

Footnote 100:

Foucart, _Ass. Rel._ pp. 33-35.

Footnote 101:

_Id._ _op. cit._ pp. 150, 151.

Footnote 102:

Hogarth, _Philip and Alexander_, pp. 277, 282. Cf. Bouché-Leclercq in

Droysen, _op. cit._ I. p. vii.

CHAPTER II

THE ALEXANDRIAN DIVINITIES

When Alexander’s marshals began immediately after his death to divide

his Empire among them, and Ptolemy the son of Lagos claimed and received

for his share the province of Egypt, his more ambitious fellows must

have smiled at his moderation. Egypt was an acquisition that had never

been properly assimilated by the Persians, and although subjugated by

Cambyses very early in their history, had more than once broken out into

successful rebellion. Its inhabitants, then as now, were a race

separated from the rest of the world by peculiarities of climate,

devotedly attached to their own traditional institutions, and bitterly

and obstinately hostile to the foreigner. Moreover, the enormous

resources of the country were undeveloped, the importance of its new

capital of Alexandria as the natural entrepôt of trade between East and

West[103] had not then been made manifest, and the agricultural wealth

which was afterwards to make Egypt the granary of Europe had been ruined

by civil commotions and foreign invasions. Although Alexander was hailed

by the Egyptians as a deliverer, and, like other conquerors before and

after him, found little difficulty in coming to terms with the colleges

of greedy and unpatriotic priests who were ready to welcome any foreign

master so long as their own position was assured[104], he seems to have

felt less interest in the unwarlike and servile _fellahin_ than in the

free warriors of Bactria and India who had fought so gallantly against

him. Hence, he paid little attention to their government, and Cleomenes,

the ruler he had set over Egypt, thus found himself free to practise

extortion on a scale which would certainly have brought down upon him

the condign vengeance of his master had it taken place further

east[105]. Or perhaps the Great Conqueror, among whose gifts the habit

of attending to everything in its turn must certainly be reckoned,

thought it well to let all things grow together till the harvest, in the

consciousness that the campaign in Arabia, on which he was bent when

struck down by the fatal fever, would bring him close to the confines of

Egypt and therefore in a position to investigate on the spot the

complaints against Cleomenes which had already come to his ears. Be this

as it may, one of Ptolemy’s first acts on reaching his satrapy was to

seize Cleomenes and to put him to death, a proceeding which had, we

learn, the full approval of his new subjects. This was but the earliest

of a long list of benefits which his rule was to confer upon them, and

which under his successors were to raise Egypt to a greater height of

prosperity than she had ever enjoyed under her native Pharaohs.

It soon became evident also, that in choosing Egypt for his portion

Ptolemy knew very well what he was about. While its western frontier was

the Libyan desert and its southern was guarded by the cataracts, its

northern coast was so badly off for harbours as to make it difficult to

attack by sea, and it was practically unassailable from the east save at

the Pelusiac or Port Said mouth of the Nile, and then only by an enemy

marching through Syria[106]. Ptolemy, therefore, had ample time to

consolidate his power by annexing Cyrene, making friends in his turn

with the Egyptian priesthoods, and spending the money raised by

Cleomenes’ exactions in the enlistment of an army of mercenaries[107].

He also waylaid the body of Alexander on its way to the tombs of the

Macedonian kings at Aegae, and installed it in a splendid sepulchre

called the Sema at Alexandria, thereby securing to himself, in the

opinion of the time, a talisman of great power[108]. It was not long

before the wisdom of these preparations was put to the proof; for, two

years after Alexander’s death, Perdiccas, the Regent of the Empire, had

the new satrap tried in his absence for treason, and led a great army

out of Asia Minor by way of Damascus to attack him. He found Ptolemy

waiting for him in force at Pelusium, and after some of the royal troops

had gone over to the enemy, and those under Perdiccas in person had

suffered a severe repulse near Bubastis, Perdiccas was deposed and

murdered[109]. The new settlement of the Empire which followed at

Triparadeisos confirmed Ptolemy in the possession of Egypt, and left him

in comparative peace to organize a kingdom which only ended three

centuries later with Cleopatra[110].

Of the able and statesmanlike measures which Ptolemy took towards this

end, only one need concern us here. The plan may have been Alexander’s

own, for no one was more likely to know Alexander’s later mind than

Ptolemy, who had been his master’s companion from his youth, had shared

his exile when banished by Philip, and had distinguished himself in

India as one of his most trusted lieutenants. It is not impossible that

among Alexander’s plans for the government of his Empire, a religion

common to both Greek and barbarian may have been included; for it is

difficult otherwise to explain the active part that he took in the

different religious observances of all his subjects, while the constant

inquisitiveness concerning them which he showed can hardly have been

merely archaeological[111]. At all events, soon after Ptolemy found

himself secure in the possession of Egypt, he set himself to work to

found a religion that should unite both his Greek and his Egyptian

subjects in the bonds of a common faith. At first sight, no two things

can seem more dissimilar than the religions of the two nations; but

there was one point where they drew very near to each other, and it was

to this that Ptolemy addressed himself.

Now religion in Egypt had always been very much in the hands of a

professional priesthood who here, as elsewhere in Africa, formed

organized corporations greedy for political sway, and sometimes proved

more powerful than the king himself[112]. So far as the monuments show,

the first of these corporations in point of time was that of the

worshippers of the sun-god Ra, the chief seat of whose worship was Annu,

On, or Heliopolis in the Delta. Its members were apparently the

religious advisers of the Vth or Pyramid-building Dynasty, and to them

must be attributed the earliest or Heliopolitan recension of the _Book

of the Dead_ engraved on the walls of the chambers in the Saqqarah

Pyramids. This corporation seems to have flourished unchecked until the

Hyksos conquest, but was succeeded, when the invaders were cast out, by

that of the priests of Amen of Thebes who, after crushing the “heresy”

or religious revolt of King Amenhotep IV, gradually became the supreme

power in the state, and established the theocracy or rule of the

priest-kings, under which Egypt went rapidly down the hill. The

decadence was stayed for a time by an uprising of the Libyan

mercenaries, who placed their leader Sheshonq or Shishak, Solomon’s

suzerain, upon the throne, and thus founded the XXIInd Dynasty. The

deposed corporation of Amen thereupon transferred themselves to Ethiopia

or Nubia, where they established a theocracy on the model of that at

Thebes, and whence they returned later with an army of Sudanese to again

enslave their native country. But Piankhi and his Ethiopians found

themselves unable to rule Egypt from Napata, and when they finally

retired behind the Cataracts, there was a brief but brilliant revival of

old Egyptian ideas under the Saite or Philhellene kings of the Delta,

who called in Greek and Carian mercenaries to the support of their

throne. It was in their time that Herodotus visited the country, and

Egypt began again to play its part in the stirring events then fast

coming upon Western Asia. It seems probable also that under them, the

religious corporations, among whom the priests of Ptah of Memphis, one

of the oldest of the gods of Egypt, for the first time take a prominent

place, regained the influence which they had never wholly lost. Then

came the Persian invasion, and although Egypt made more than one

successful attempt to shake off the yoke of the foreigners, it was at

last riveted firmly on her neck. After the flight of Nectanebo, the last

king of the XXXth Dynasty, she was never again ruled by a prince of

Egyptian blood[113].

During this long period—which is often quoted, not without reason, as

the classic instance of the evils attending the Priest in Power—the mass

of the Egyptian people had clung firmly to the worship of one god whose

vogue goes back to very early times. While the rich and powerful were

raising temples to Ra and Amen and showering wealth upon their

priesthoods, the poorer classes remained faithful to Osiris and the gods

of his cycle with such effect that most of the other divinities found it

necessary to include him in their own cults. In the very earliest

recension of the _Book of the Dead_, we find Osiris invoked together

with Ra in a way that gives no hint that one has any superiority over

the other[114]; in the great recension of the XVIIIth Dynasty, Osiris

and Ra, already made into the “king of the gods” by his union with Amen,

are said to have “joined souls” and become one[115]; and in the Saitic

period, Osiris became united with Ptah and a very ancient divinity

called Seker, in a triune deity called Ptah-Seker-Osiris to whom

everyone looked for happiness after death[116]. So, when the bull Apis

came to be adored, he was said to be the “life of Osiris,” meaning

probably his earthly incarnation[117], and there is fairly good evidence

that Osiris had long before absorbed into himself the personality of

several older deities, such as Khent-Amentit “Lord of Amenti,” and Apuat

“the opener of the ways[118].” It is plain, therefore, that the practice

of _theocrasia_ which we have seen rife among the Greeks was known to

the Egyptians from the very earliest times[119]. Yet, all this was

effected without there ever having been a special priesthood or college

of priests of Osiris such as undoubtedly existed in the case of Ra,

Amen, and probably Ptah. It seems really a case of the survival of the

fittest, or, in other words, of the choice by the Egyptian people of the

worship of the god best suited to their wants, in spite of the

well-meant attempts of their rulers to draw their attention to other

deities.

The reason for this obstinacy of choice is perhaps to be found in the

legend or myth of Osiris, which was at once more consistent and more

direct in its appeal to human sympathies than those handed down

concerning the other gods of Egypt. We are told that Osiris was the

first-born of Nut the sky-goddess by Geb the earth-god, that he appeared

upon earth as a man among men, and became king of Egypt, which he ruled

wisely and well, teaching the Egyptians the art of agriculture, giving

them just laws, and instructing them in the proper worship of the gods.

Later, he travelled over the whole earth, civilizing and subduing the

nations not by force of arms but by persuasion and especially by the art

of music which he took with him. On his return, he was entrapped and

murdered by his jealous brother Set or Typhon who, with the aid of

seventy-two conspirators and an Ethiopian queen called Aso, shut him up

in a coffin and threw him into the Nile, by which his body was carried

out to sea. We further learn that his sister-wife Isis, who had reigned

in his stead during his absence, mourned greatly for his loss and

wandered far and wide seeking and lamenting him, until she heard from

some children that the coffin containing his remains had been carried

away by the Tanitic mouth of the Nile. Following this, she found that it

had been washed ashore at Byblus in Phoenicia and had been overgrown by

a magnificent tamarisk, which the king of the country had had cut down

and made into the roof-tree or pillar supporting his house. Then Isis

disguised herself as a servant and became the nurse of the king’s son,

whom she would have made immortal but for the timidity of his mother,

who cried out when she saw the child surrounded by the flames which were

to burn away his mortality. On this, the goddess revealed herself, took

away the pillar containing the coffin, and attempted to revive the

corpse that it contained by her embrace. Afterwards, she gave birth to

her son Horus, whom she destined from his cradle to be the avenger of

his father. Meanwhile, the murderer Set had seized the throne of Egypt,

and while hunting by moonlight came across the corpse of Osiris, which

he tore into fourteen pieces, and scattered them throughout the land.

Consequently Isis, who was at the time visiting Horus at nurse in her

city of Buto, had to begin again her wanderings, sailing over the swamps

in a boat of papyrus, and burying the fragments of the body of Osiris

wherever she found them. One part, however, she could not find, this

having been thrown into the Nile and devoured by fishes; and henceforth

Osiris became king of the Underworld, where he rules for ever over the

dead, welcoming those who successfully win through the ordeal of the

judgment that all must undergo, and providing for them a happy life like

that which the rich live on earth, in which agriculture plays a

prominent part. Then Horus grew up to man’s estate, and having provided

himself with horse, fought three desperate battles with Set, many of

whose followers came over to him. But, although he defeated his foe, he

did not put an end to his existence, and Set still lives, haunting the

deserts and wild places, and even, according to one variant of the

story, ruling for a time over the south of Egypt (or perhaps only a part

of it), while the sway of Horus over the north remained unchallenged. As

for the other gods of the cycle, Nephthys, the twin sister and

reflection of Isis, was the wife of Set, but preferred to throw in her

lot with Osiris, by whom she had a son, Anubis the jackal, the messenger

of Osiris, who possessed many of the attributes of the Greek Hermes. So,

too, Thoth, the ibis, was the judge who pronounced, or perhaps merely

recorded, the final partition or arrangement between Horus and Set, and

most of the other members of the Egyptian Pantheon were brought into the

cycle one way or the other.

This is the legend of Osiris, as we find it in the tract _de Iside et

Osiride_, which is generally attributed to Plutarch and was certainly

written in the first century A.D. It has not been met with earlier in a

connected form; but its main incidents are sufficiently corroborated by

the monuments of the time to convince us that it fairly represents the

popular belief of the Egyptians during the Ptolemaic period[120].

Plutarch, or the writer who assumed his name, gives us more than one

explanation of it coupled with analogies drawn from other mythologies,

which exhibit considerable archaeological knowledge and show us how far

the comparative study of religions had proceeded even in his time. When

he fails, it is generally from lack of acquaintance with the earlier

forms of the religions of Egypt, which had evidently become in those

days as much a mystery to the priests as to their flocks, and which the

labours of modern Egyptologists have but recently begun to recover for

us. Looked at by their light, and stripped of its many transparent

inconsistencies and anachronisms, it seems plain that the story is not

simple but compound, and represents an attempt to fuse together the

religious ideas either of different peoples or of the same people at

different stages of culture[121]. In the first place, we see in it the

animal gods of Egypt—Horus the falcon, Set the unknown animal or _scha_

sacred to him, Anubis the jackal, and Thoth the ibis—whom we now know to

have been the totems or rallying-signs of the different tribes who

invaded Egypt, probably from other parts of Africa, in predynastic

times. The _Sches-Hor_ or Followers of Horus are so often alluded to in

early dynastic texts that there can be no doubt that the tribe who had

the falcon for their banner were originally the royal or leading tribe

of these invaders. The memory of this fact was preserved in the custom,

going back to the beginning of the Ist Dynasty, which assigned to the

ruler of Egypt on his coronation a special name differing from that by

which he was usually known, and borne in a rectangle representing the

façade or front of a palace surmounted by a hawk[122]. Recent

excavations at Abydos in Upper Egypt have shown that this custom was

only once broken in the long course of Egyptian history, when a king of

the IInd or IIIrd Dynasty, whose name is read Perabsen, cast out the

falcon from above the _srekh_ or rectangle containing his “hawk” or

Horus name, and crowned it instead with the animal representing Set.

This breach of conventional usage—whether significant of a political or

a religious revolution or of some predominating foreign influence cannot

be exactly determined—was healed by his immediate successor Khasekhmui,

who bore both the falcon and the Set-animal above his _srekh_ with an

inscription proclaiming himself “He who has caused the two gods to be at

peace”; after which the rulers of Egypt returned to the hawk-crowned

_srekh_, which was never again abandoned down to the last-known example

under the Roman emperors. We may assume then that the fundamental

stratum of the Osiris legend was a tradition more or less historical

which preserved the memory of a struggle for supremacy occurring in the

earliest historical times between the tribes represented by Horus and

Set respectively. As the horse was a late comer into Egypt, and seems to

have been introduced there by the Bedouins of the Sinaitic peninsula,

where Perabsen’s predecessors left their inscriptions, we may even read

into it the statement that, while the Horus or falcon tribe were helped

in the war by Bedouin cavalry, the followers of Set sought aid from the

Nubian or “Ethiopian” tribes above the Cataracts[123].

To this foundation, however, there must have been added a myth conceived

by a race in possession of a much higher degree of culture and greater

imaginative powers than any with which the predynastic or protodynastic

Egyptians can be credited. The earliest gods of Egypt of whom we have

any record were, as we have seen, either animals or inanimate objects, a

fact which is sufficiently explained by their totemic origin[124]. But

spread throughout the basin of the Mediterranean, we find from the

earliest times the worship of a god who was from his birth never

anything but a man and a man who suffered a veritable death and passion

before his resurrection and deification. Thus, in Crete we have the

legend of the infant Zagreus, son of Zeus and Persephone, who was

treacherously seized by the earth-born Titans, torn in pieces, and

devoured, but was afterwards reborn as Dionysos to reign over gods and

men[125]. So, too, in Cyprus, Syria, and Phoenicia, we hear of Adonis,

the lover of Aphrodite, done to death by the boar’s tusk, but returning

yearly from the shades to spend part of the year with his mistress. In

Asia Minor, again, was told the story of Atys, lover of Cybele, mother

of the gods, who fatally mutilated himself in a fit of madness, but

after death was resuscitated, and thereafter reigned with Cybele over

all Nature. All these three legends bear too close a resemblance to that

of Osiris for the four to have grown up independently, and although the

point is not free from doubt, it is improbable that Egypt was the source

from which the others were derived[126]. No direct connection in ancient

times can be traced between Egypt and the inland country of Phrygia,

which seems to be the birthplace of the majority of these legends; while

it is of great importance to remember that Isis, Osiris’ queen and

sister, is represented in the early Egyptian myths as merely a magician

or witch cunning in spells[127], whereas in the Phrygian and Syrian

legends the consort of the dying god is the “mother of all living” or in

other words Nature herself. It seems therefore probable that the legend

of Osiris, like so many other things in Egypt, was African as to its

body, but Asiatic or European as to its head.

It was therefore natural that in this legend of Osiris, Ptolemy should

find the desired point of contact between the religions of the Egyptians

and the Greeks. The religious institution which commanded the most

respect among the Greeks of his time was undoubtedly the Mysteries of

Eleusis[128], which were yearly celebrated with a circumstance that drew

upon them the attention of the whole Hellenic world. Messengers went

forth every year from Eleusis to all countries where Athenians could be

found, to proclaim the Sacred Truce that was to ensure peace during the

celebration of the Mysteries. Then on the appointed day in September,

enormous numbers of Greeks from all parts of the world gathered together

in Athens for a festival that lasted for nearly two weeks. First came

the assembly of the worshippers and the proclamation of the hierophant

that none but those unpolluted by crime and of intelligible speech

(_i.e._ not barbarians) might take part in the Mysteries. Then followed

the solemn procession when the sacred objects, upon which none but the

initiated might look, were brought from Eleusis under strong guard and

lodged in the Eleusinion at the foot of the Acropolis, their arrival

being formally notified to the priestess of Athena, the tutelary deity

of the city. Next was made the proclamation of “To the sea, the

initiates!” when all who were to take part in the ceremonies descended

to the harbour of Phalerum[129] to wash themselves and the animals

intended for sacrifice in the salt water, in the belief that, as

Euripides said, “Sea-waves wash away all sin.” After a time spent in

sacrificing and austerities very proper for bringing the worshippers

into a receptive state of mind, there was formed the long procession

which paced the Sacred Way, twelve miles long, from Athens to Eleusis,

beguiling the road with hymns and choruses addressed to Iacchos, the

infant Dionysos[130], who was supposed to lead the procession from his

Athenian temple, the Iaccheion, with a pause at the bridge over the

Cephisus, where the crowd exchanged coarse jokes and sarcasms in a

manner peculiarly Attic. Then came the arrival by night of the

procession at the Telesterion or Hall of Initiations at Eleusis, the sky

above which was made light by the glare of the torches[131]. There,

after more sacrifices, a sacred banquet, in which it is not impossible

that the mystic _cyceon_ or consecrated drink was partaken of, and

sacrifices in the temples of Demeter, of Hades, and of Persephone with

which the Hall was surrounded, the initiates were shown a sacred drama,

like the mystery-plays of the Middle Ages, acted by the priests of the

cult, whose office, contrary to the custom of Greek cults generally, was

confined to two families in which it was hereditary and highly paid.

This drama, the details of which were kept strictly secret and can only

be gathered from hints appearing in writers of a comparatively late

date, seems to have set forth the Rape of Persephone, daughter of

Demeter the earth-goddess, who was known and worshipped throughout

Greece and her colonies as the teacher of agriculture and giver of laws

to mortals. The initiates saw “with their own eyes” the capture of

Persephone, when playing with her companions in the sunny fields of

Eleusis[132], by Hades or Pluto the king of the dead, who takes her to

his own gloomy abode beneath the earth, and the wanderings of Demeter in

search of her lost child. Then they were shown how Demeter came to the

house of Celeus, king of Eleusis, how she became nurse to the king’s

child Demophoon, and was detected by his mother attempting to burn away

his mortal part in the way which the Egyptian legend attributed to

Isis[133]. The next act, probably reserved for epopts or initiates of

the second year only, exhibited the union of Zeus with Demeter[134], and

the birth from the latter of a mysterious child in whom some see the

Iacchos who conducted the procession from Athens to Eleusis, but who was

certainly Dionysos in one or other of his forms[135]. We know also that

the initiates took part in wanderings in dark passages and over

obstacles and difficulties, which were supposed to give them an idea of

the sufferings of the uninitiated dead in the next world, and that they

were then restored to upper air in a blaze of brilliant light, were

shown the mysterious objects brought with such care from Eleusis to

Athens and back again, were given a glimpse of the beatitudes awaiting

the dead who had been initiated in their lifetime, and were at the same

time instructed in certain mysterious phrases or formulas which it seems

fair to conclude they were to treasure as passwords through the realms

of Hades[136]. It seems probable from this that the initiates were

supposed to accompany Hermes the Psychopomp or “leader of souls” as the

messenger of Zeus to the underworld, there to accomplish the deliverance

of Persephone and to witness her restoration to the heavenly regions

where she was again united to her sorrowing mother. Finally, there

appeared Triptolemus, Celeus’ son and Demeter’s pupil, setting out in

his car drawn by serpents to spread the knowledge of agriculture

throughout the world, “an ear of corn reaped in silence” being, as we

learn from a Christian writer, the “mighty and wonderful and most

perfect mystery” exhibited to the highest degree of initiates[137].

It will be noticed that we have spoken hitherto of initiates; for none

might enter the Telesterion unless they had previously been initiated,

and two young Acarnanians who unwittingly did so were formally tried for

sacrilege and put to death[138]. This initiation, or entry into the

ranks of those privileged to behold these wonderful sights, began at the

Little Mysteries, which were celebrated six or seven months before the

Great or Eleusinian Mysteries properly so called, at Agra on the left

bank of the Ilissus. These mysteries of Agra were under the control of

the same sacred families as the Mysteries of Eleusis, for which they

formed a necessary preparation. They were kept, if possible, even more

strictly secret than the Great Mysteries, and the only direct evidence

that has come down to us as to their nature tells us that they also took

the form of a sacred drama, and that the scenes there enacted were taken

from the legend of Dionysos[139]. This Dionysos, however, was not in the

first instance the Theban god of wine born from Semele and celebrated by

the poets, but his Cretan namesake Dionysos Zagreus or “the hunter,” who

was said to have been begotten by Zeus in the form of a serpent upon his

own daughter Persephone, and while still a child was, as has been

mentioned above, torn in pieces by the earth-born Titans from jealousy

at hearing that the child was to be made the ruler of the world. It was

also said that the scattered members of the baby-god were collected by

Demeter, put together and revivified, a myth which late researches seem

to show was alluded to in the Anthesteria, a festival celebrated in the

Dionysion at Athens in the same Anthesterion or “flower month” as the

Little Mysteries. There is much reason to think that the Anthesteria

showed forth in a manner unintelligible to the beholders unless

otherwise acquainted with the details of the legend, the

putting-together of the different members—said to be fourteen in

number—of the infant Dionysos, his subsequent resurrection, and his

marriage with a priestess called “the Queen” who doubtless represented

Demeter or Persephone. The inference seems unavoidable that it was some

part of this legend that was acted in a manner impossible to

misunderstand or mistake before the eyes of those admitted to the Little

Mysteries[140].

We see then that between the legend of Osiris as told by Plutarch and

the legend of Eleusis as set forth in the Mysteries there were

resemblances so close as to make it almost impossible that one should

not be derived from the other, unless we are prepared to consider them

as having a common origin. As Osiris was torn into fourteen pieces, so

was Dionysos, the difference in the agents of this “diaspasm,” as it was

called, being due to the exigencies of Egyptian traditional history. The

wanderings of Isis, again, find an exact parallel in those of Demeter,

the object of the search differing slightly in the two cases, while the

mysterious birth of Horus, the successor of Osiris, corresponds point

for point with that of Dionysos in his second form of Iacchos. That both

stories may have had their source in the folk-lore explaining the

phenomena of the annual decay and rebirth of vegetation, Dr Frazer has

shown with great attention to detail in _The Golden Bough_ and

elsewhere[141] to be possible; but this was too philosophical an idea

for the sixth century B.C., when the Mysteries of Eleusis were founded

or reduced to order[142]. Herodotus, a century later, no doubt expressed

the views of the learned of his day when he asserted that the worship of

Dionysos was brought into Greece from Egypt[143], and among modern

scholars M. Foucart, who has done more than anyone to collate the few

relics that remain to us of the Eleusinian worship, fully supports him

in this. It is therefore plain that the resemblances between the

Dionysiae and the Egyptian worship were many and salient. Hence Ptolemy

found his way clear when he invited Timotheos the Eumolpid, a member of

one of the sacred families in which the Eleusinian priesthood was, as

has been said, hereditary, and associated with him the Egyptian priest

Manetho in the task of founding a religion which should be common to

Egyptians and Greeks alike[144].

In framing this new religion, the first care of the king and his

advisers was evidently to avoid shocking the religious and artistic

feelings of the Greeks. Ptolemy Soter’s position seems to have been much

like that of a modern Governor-General of India; for, while he was not

only tolerant but careful of the religious susceptibilities of the

native Egyptians, his own Court remained in everything predominantly or

exclusively Greek. In Alexandria, the site of which under the native

Pharaohs had been the small fishing village of Rhacotis, he had

practically virgin soil, in which it is doubtful whether any Egyptian

temple existed, and it was consequently, as Alexander intended it should

be, in all respects a Greek city. Greek was the language there spoken,

and it was to the care taken by Alexandrian scholars to preserve the

language and literature of Hellas in its native purity, that we are

indebted for most of what we know of the classic tongue at its best. Its

large garrison consisted almost entirely of Greek soldiers drilled and

armed in the Macedonian fashion, and to the great University or Museum,

which Ptolemy’s munificence founded for the sustentation of scholars,

there flocked learned men from every part of the Hellenic world[145].

Here, indeed, was the first instance of the endowment of research; and

the experiment had important results for most of the modern sciences,

not excluding that transmutation of metals which made such wild work

among some of the best brains of the Middle Ages and Renaissance, but

which Sir William Ramsay has lately shown to be more capable of

accomplishment than could have been expected from an alchemist’s dream.

At the Museum, Eratosthenes, “the Inspector of the Earth,” first set on

foot the serious study of geography, Hipparchus laid the sure

foundations of the modern science of astronomy, and Hero invented the

first steam engine. The investigation of those secondary laws by which

their insight perceived nature to be governed was indeed the constant

occupation of King Ptolemy’s “stuffed capons,” as Timon of Phlya

contemptuously called them[146]. But these philosophers would have been

the first to receive with scorn the proposition that anyone should be

asked to worship the “brutish gods” of Egypt under those animal forms in

which they had long been known to the more simple minded Egyptians.

Osiris, the “bull of Amenti,” as he is called in the early texts, was

worshipped under the actual form of the bull Apis at Memphis and as a

ram or goat at Mendes. Isis was often portrayed with the cow’s head

which commemorated one of the incidents of her myth as set forth by

Plutarch. Horus, who was in fact an older god than either of them, was,

as the totem of the royal tribe of the first invaders, worshipped at

Edfu and elsewhere as a hawk, and although the Egyptian priests kept up

as long as possible the distinction between this “Horus the elder” and

Horus the son of Isis, it is certain that their Greek worshippers saw no

difference between the two. While Timotheos was doubtless willing to

recognize the Eleusinian deities, of whose worship his family were the

traditional guardians, in the Egyptian triad of Osiris, Isis, and Horus,

he must have been sure that he could not ask his art-loving countrymen

to do them homage in the guise of beasts or birds.

The difficulty was got over in a way that was characteristic enough.

The _theocrasia_ or fusion of one god with another which we have

seen playing such a prominent part in the religion of both Egyptians

and Greeks, was of the very essence of the religion of Eleusis. At

no time from the earliest mention of the Eleusinian worship onwards,

is it possible to draw any sharp dividing line between Demeter and

her daughter Persephone, or as Mr Louis Dyer rather flamboyantly

puts it, Demeter and Persephone were at Eleusis “regarded as one,

being so filled with mutual love that all barriers between them

melted away[147].” “Excepting,” he says again, “in her days of

thoughtless youth, Demeter’s Persephone is Demeter’s self twice

told,” and the same dogma seems to have been prematurely revealed by

Xenophanes of Colophon, who was exiled for his declaration that all

the gods of his fellow-countrymen were but varying forms of the one

deity. This identity of the goddesses of Eleusis must have been

constantly present to the mind of the Greeks, who hardly ever spoke

of Demeter and Persephone save as “the Goddesses Twain” or as the

Mother-and-Daughter. But this was only the first step in what was

called without circumlocution the “mystic _theocrasia_[148],” which

went so far as to include in the persons of the Eleusinian deities

nearly all the gods of the Hellenic pantheon. In the original Cretan

legend, the infant Dionysos is the son of Zeus, whom he is destined

to succeed upon his throne, as Zeus had succeeded in the Homeric

myths his father Kronos, and this last, _his_ father Ouranos. But

the Zeus of Eleusis was by no means the Zeus of Olympos whom Homer

hails as “father of gods and men,” but who had to yield the empire

of the seas to his brother Poseidon and that of the netherworld to

his brother Hades. Originally known at Eleusis as “the God” only, as

Demeter with or without her daughter was called “the Goddess,” the

Eleusinian god was also invoked as Zeus Chthonios or the infernal

Zeus, called by euphemism Zeus Eubuleus (Zeus of Good Counsel),

Pluto (Bringer of Riches) and other similar names[149]. But by

whatever name he was called, he was always the king of the dead, and

was thus again brought near to Dionysos, whom Heraclitus of Ephesus,

two centuries before Alexander, had declared to be the same god as

Hades, lord of the netherworld[150]. In this double capacity,

Dionysos was therefore the brother, father, and spouse of his

consort Demeter, of whom he was also the child. He might therefore

be considered one of the first instances known in the history of

religions as a god who was, according to the way in which he was

regarded, either father or son[151]. Nor did the _theocrasia_ stop

here. The Asiatic forms of Dionysos, whether we call them Atys,

Adonis or by any other name, were often represented as of both

sexes, a doctrine which is also denoted by Dionysos’ Orphic epithet

of Mise, and led to his being portrayed in effeminate shape[152].

Hence, Dionysos and Demeter or Persephone might be regarded as the

God under both the male and female aspect. Moreover, Zeus was said

to have ordered the corpse of Dionysos to be buried at Delphi, where

secret ceremonies were celebrated in connection with it by five

priests called Hosioi; and this seems to have led to the idea common

to the classic poets Pindar, Aeschylus, and Euripides, that Dionysos

and Apollo were different forms of the same god, a theory which is

expressly confirmed by Plutarch[153]. But Apollo “the Far-Darter”

was always to the Greeks a sun-god, and Horus from the first had the

same character among the Egyptians, the emblem of the sun-disk being

often added to the Horus-hawk of their protocol by the Pharaohs of

the New Empire. Thus the identification of the gods of the Osiris

cycle with their Greek analogues was complete. It was agreed that

Osiris was to be represented as the Greek Hades, Isis as Demeter,

and the child Horus as Apollo. Herodotus and probably other Greek

writers had long before made the same identifications[154].

This settled, the question of the material forms under which the triad

was to be worshipped by Ptolemy’s new subjects became easy. A convenient

dream, so runs the story told in Roman times, revealed to the king the

existence of a statue of Hades or Pluto at Sinope in Pontus that was

exactly fitted to his purpose[155]. It is said to have been of colossal

size, the work of Bryaxis, the fellow-worker of Scopas, and to have been

composed of a mixture of the most precious metals with fragments of

gems, the whole being coloured with a dark varnish. This statue was

given up by—or according to another version was stolen from—the city of

Sinope, and was installed with great pomp in the magnificent temple or

Serapeum built for it at Alexandria, which for centuries formed one of

the wonders of the Hellenistic world. It doubtless formed the model for

all the later representations of the new god called henceforth Serapis

(in Egyptian, Asar-hapi or Osiris in his manifestation as Apis), which

resemble each other in all important particulars. They show a bearded

man of mature age, whose features have much of the majesty and dignity

of the Phidian Zeus. On his head he wears the _modius_, a crown of

basket-work on which are sometimes represented olive trees and which is

said to be a reproduction of the _calathos_ or consecrated basket

carried in the sacred procession to Eleusis, and doubtless possessed for

the initiated some mystical or symbolical meaning[156]. He is generally

represented with an eagle at his feet, and by the side of him appears a

triple monster which may perhaps represent the classical Cerberus with a

serpent twisted round its body and equipped with the heads of a lion, a

dog, and a wolf. It seems, therefore, that in choosing this statue the

founders of the Alexandrian religion had quite turned their backs on the

lighter and more joyous aspects of the mystic Dionysos, and intended to

regard him as the god of the dead merely[157]. The same was not the case

with his consort Isis, who is generally represented as a young matron of

stately appearance having sometimes the crescent moon on her head, and

sometimes a crown of lotus flowers interspersed with ears of corn. She

is dressed in a fringed tunic reaching to her feet, having over her

shoulders a mantle tied by its ends between the breasts in a peculiar

knot. In one hand she bears the _sistrum_ or rattle used in her worship,

and in the other a horn of abundance or other emblem, while the head is

frequently covered by a long veil. Both the attitude and the dress are

always of the strictest modesty, and the features wear an expression of

gentle benevolence, in which it is possible to see a trace of

melancholy. The Alexandrian Horus is seldom represented otherwise than

in child form, the type being taken from the Egyptian Horus known as

Har-pa-khrat (Horus the Child) of which the Alexandrians made

Harpocrates. In this form he was represented with his finger in his

mouth in accordance with the usual Egyptian ideogram for childhood, and

this gave rise to the story among the Greeks that he was the god of

silence. Sometimes he is shown with wings like the classical Eros,

frequently seated on the lotus or with the lotus flower on his head, and

very often with the hawk which formed his proper emblem[158]. He was

seldom represented in a group containing Serapis, although bas-reliefs

and statues showing Serapis and Isis together are common; but groups

representing Isis suckling Horus have been found in some numbers.

Generally it may be said that the _modius_ on the head is the

distinguishing mark of the figure of Serapis, the peculiar breast-knot

that of Isis, while Horus can seldom be recognized with certainty save

by the gesture of the forefinger in the mouth or, as the Greek artists

preferred to represent it, on the lips. From this time forward, the

Alexandrian Greeks could worship the chief deities of their native

fellow-citizens under forms which they felt to be worthy of the Divine.

Thus, the worship of the great Egyptian triad under their Greek forms

was inaugurated, as was our own English Reformation in the sixteenth

century, as a measure of statecraft, by a king who hardly cared to

conceal that in doing so he had only his own interest to serve. Yet it

may be said at once, that so far as its political purpose was concerned,

the Alexandrian religion was from the outset foredoomed to failure. The

Egyptians of Philhellenic times were of all the nations of the earth at

once the most superstitious and the most fanatically attached to their

traditional modes of worship. Although until the rise of the theocracy,

the importation of foreign gods was not unknown, under the Ethiopians,

the Persians, and Alexander, the Egyptians had not scrupled to sacrifice

their nationality to their religion, and to accept a foreign governor so

long as the worship of their native gods under types that had been

observed by them for more than four millennia remained untouched. How

then could they be expected to recognize their native deities in forms

beautified and dignified by Greek art indeed, but so foreign to all

their traditional ideas that nothing distinctly Egyptian about them

remained?

To this question there could be but one answer, and it is not

extraordinary that the native Egyptians proved as recalcitrant to their

new king’s endeavour to unite them in a common worship with their Greek

masters as the Jews did under the somewhat similar attempt of Antiochus

Epiphanes. The Egyptian priests allowed Ptolemy to set up at Memphis,

which had become since the ruin of Thebes the religious capital of the

country, a Serapeum, doubtless modelled on that of Alexandria, by the

side of the native temple established for the delectation of the living

Apis and for the solemn burial of his predecessors: but they took care

that it should be separated from the Egyptian Serapeum by a long avenue

of sphinxes, and that no Greek prayers should ever be allowed to defile

the purity of the native Egyptian sanctuary[159]. Moreover, Egypt,

resembling in this perhaps all countries with strongly marked

geographical characteristics, has exhibited through all ages a wonderful

power of conquering her conquerors, or, in other words, of forcing her

foreign rulers to accept the ideas that they found there, instead of

adopting at their instance innovations on customs consecrated by

centuries of usage. Hence the Ptolemies, as time went on, found it

necessary to pay ever more and more attention to the native Egyptian

religion, and Ptolemy V Epiphanes was crowned at Memphis, as is recorded

on the Rosetta Stone, with all the religious ceremonies that made him in

the eyes of the Egyptians the living Horus, son of the sun-god, the

beloved of Ptah and the rest, as fully as any of the ancient

Pharaohs[160]. All the Ptolemies, too, seem to have spent very

considerable sums on the restoration and keeping-up of the temples in

Egypt dedicated to such thoroughly native gods as Amon of Thebes and

Horus of Edfu, besides those at Philae and elsewhere raised not to the

Alexandrian but to the Egyptian Osiris and his cycle. What truth there

is in the statement of Macrobius that Ptolemy Soter compelled by

“tyranny” the Egyptians to take Serapis into their temples, it is

impossible to say; but as his image in Greek form has never been found

in any of them, it is plain that the priests must have found some way of

evading the royal order, if it were really given[161].

Ptolemy, however, was building better than he knew, and the hybrid cult

which the provident old soldier had fashioned as an instrument of

government turned out to be the first, and not the least successful, of

the world-religions for which Alexander’s conquests left clear the way.

During the wars of the Diadochi, all the powers who at any time found

themselves Ptolemy’s pawns in the mighty war game then played on a board

stretching from India to Thrace, thought to curry favour with their rich

ally by giving countenance to his new religion. An association of

Sarapiasts or worshippers of Serapis held their meetings in the Piraeus

not long after the institution of the Alexandrian cult[162]; and before

the death of Ptolemy Soter, a Serapeum was built in Athens over against

the Acropolis itself[163]. Cyprus, Rhodes, Antioch, Smyrna, and

Halicarnassus were not long in following suit, and before the end of the

century several of the islands of the Ægean together with Boeotia, which

was said by some to be the native country of Dionysos, had adopted the

new worship. In the second century B.C., the temples of the Alexandrian

gods were to be found in Delos, Tenedos, Thessaly, Macedonia and the

Thracian Bosphorus in Europe, and in Ephesus, Cyzicus and Termessus

among other places in Asia Minor[164]. But their greatest triumph was

awaiting them further west. Invited by Hiero II into Sicily, they were

not long in working their way up the coast, and a hundred years before

our era a temple to Serapis was in existence at Puteoli[165]. It was

evidently no new foundation and had probably been built some fifty years

earlier, at which date perhaps the first Isium at Pompeii was also in

existence[166]. Somewhere about 80 B.C., the Alexandrian worship was

introduced into Rome itself, and thereafter no action of the authorities

was able to expel it[167]. Its temples were more than once thrown down

by order of the consuls; but they were always rebuilt, and in 43 B.C.,

the aedile Marcus Volusius, who had been proscribed by the triumvirs,

found the linen robe and the dog’s head mask of a priest of Isis the

most efficient disguise in which to escape Sulla’s bravos[168]. Under

the Empire, the temple of Isis in the Campus Martius became one of the

fashionable resorts of the Roman youth; and, although Tiberius seized

the occasion of a real or pretended scandal in connection with it to

exile a large number of the faithful to Sardinia, his successors were

themselves initiated into the faith; while under Nero the worship of the

Alexandrian gods was formally recognized by the state[169]. From that

time, it followed the Roman arms into every quarter of the ancient

world, and its monuments have been found in Morocco, Spain, France,

Great Britain, Germany, and the Danube provinces. Ridicule was as

powerless to stop its march as persecution, and the satire of Juvenal

and Martial had no more effect on it than the banter of the New Comedy,

which was quick to observe that even in Menander’s day the gilded youth

of Athens swore “by Isis” or “by Horus[170].” Under the Antonines, it

probably reached its apogee, when the Emperor Commodus appeared in the

processions of the cult among the bearers of the sacred images, and few

Romans seem to have been aware that the Alexandrian gods were not Roman

from the beginning. Like Ptolemy’s master, Ptolemy’s gods might have

boasted that they commanded the allegiance of the whole civilized

world[171].

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