Roman Society from Nero to Marcus Aurelius

THE RELIGION OF MITHRA

Of all the oriental religions which attracted the devotion of the West in the last three centuries of the Empire, that of Mithra was the most powerful. It is also the system which for various reasons has the greatest interest for the modern student. It is perhaps the highest and most striking example of the last efforts of paganism to reconcile itself to the great moral and spiritual movement which was setting steadily, and with growing momentum, towards purer conceptions of God, of man’s relations to Him, and of the life to come. It is also the greatest effort of syncretism to absorb, without extinguishing, the gods of the classic pantheon in a cult which was almost monotheistic, to transform old forms of nature worship and cosmic symbolism into a system which should provide at once some form of moral discipline and real satisfaction for spiritual wants. In this effort, Mithraism was not so much impeded by a heritage of coarse legend as the worships of Pessinus and Alexandria. It was indeed sprung from the same order of religious thought as they. It could never detach itself from its source as a cult of the powers of nature.3003 But the worship of the Sun, with which Mithra was inseparably connected, was the purest and most natural form of devotion, if elemental powers were to be worshipped at all. And heathendom tended more and more under the Empire to fix its devotion on the source of all light and life. The Sun was to Plato the highest material symbol of the Infinite Good. Neo-Pythagoreanism and Neo-Platonism regarded him as the sacred [pg 586]image of the power beyond human ken.3004 “Before religion,” it has been said, “had reached the point of proclaiming that God must be sought in the realm of the ideal and the absolute outside the world of sense, the one rational and scientific cult was that of the Sun.”3005 Heliolatry also harmonised with absolutism in the State, as the old Persian kings and their imitators, the emperors of the third century, clearly perceived. The great temple of the Sun, which Aurelian, the son of a priestess of the deity, founded in the Campus Martius, with its high pontiffs and stately ritual, did honour not only to the great lord of the heavenly spheres, but to the monarch who was the august image of his power upon earth and who was endued with his special grace.3006 The power of Mithra in the fourth century lay in the fact that, while it was tender and tolerant to the old national worships, and never broke with the inner spirit of heathenism, it created an all-embracing system which rose above all national barriers, which satisfied the philosophic thought of the age in its mysticism, and gave comfort and a hope of immortality through its sacraments.

Mithra was one of the most ancient and venerable objects of pagan devotion, as he was one of the last to be dethroned. In faint outline he can be traced to the cradle of the Aryan race.3007 In the Vedas he is a god of light, and, as the god of truth, who hates all falsehood, he has the germ of that moral character which grew into a great force in the last age of his worship in the West. In the Avestas, the sacred books of the religion of Iran, which, however late their redaction, still enshrine a very ancient creed, Mithra has the same well-defined personality. He is the radiant god who seems to emerge from the rocky summits of eastern mountains at dawn, who careers through heaven with a team of four white horses; yet he is not sun or moon or any star, but a spirit of light, ever wakeful, watching with a thousand eyes, whom nothing can escape and nothing deceive.3008 And so, while he gives warmth and increase to the earth, and health and wealth to men, he is also from the beginning a moral power. He confers wisdom [pg 587]and honour and a clear conscience and concord. He wages a truceless war with the evil powers of darkness, and guards his faithful soldiers against the craft of the enemy. He is the friend and consoler of the poor; he is the mediator between earth and heaven; he is the lord of the world to come.3009 But his place in the Zoroastrian hierarchy was not always equally high. At one time he was only one of the yazatas, who were created by the supreme Ormuzd.3010 But Mithra has still the attributes of guardian and saviour; he is approached with sacrifice, libation, ablution, and litany, as in the latest days of his power in the West. And again a higher place is given to him; he is the vicegerent of the remote, ineffable Ormuzd, the mediator through whom the supreme power crushes evil demons, and wages war with Ahriman; he is invoked in the same prayers side by side with the Supreme. The Great Kings, especially the later, regard Mithra as their special guardian, swear by him in their most solemn oaths,3011 and call upon him in the hour of battle. If he was the god of the humble and afflicted, he was also the god of the prince and warrior noble, and so we shall find him at the end.

The Persian conquest of Babylon had lasting effects on the religion of Mithra. There he encountered a sacerdotal system which had its roots in an immemorial civilisation. The conquerors, as so often happens, were to some extent subdued by the vanquished.3012 Syncretism set in; the deities of the two races were reconciled and identified. The magical arts and the astrolatry of the valley of the Euphrates imposed themselves on the purer Mazdean faith, and never relaxed their hold, although they failed to check its development as a moral system. Ormuzd was confounded with Bel, Mithra with Shamash or the Sun-god. The astral and solar lore, the faith in mystic numbers, which had been cultivated in Babylonia through many generations, took its place in the theology of Mithra, and they have left their mark in many a chapel on the Danube and the Rhine. Yet Mithra, identified with the Sun at Babylon, was never absorbed in the cult of the solar deity in the West.3013 On many of the later [pg 588]inscriptions Mithra and the Sun are mentioned side by side as equals and allies. Yet the connection of Mithra with Babylon is never forgotten either by Greeks or Romans. Claudian connects him with the mysteries of Bel.3014 The priest who, with many weird rites, in a waste sunless spot beside the Tigris, conducts Menippus to the underworld, wears the dress of Media, and bears the name Mithrobarzanes.3015

With the destruction of the Persian empire and the diffusion of Magian influence in Asia Minor, the worship arrived at its last stage before entering on the conquest of the West. The monarchs of Pontus, Armenia, Cappadocia, and Commagene, who claimed descent from the Achaemenids, were politic or enthusiastic votaries of the religious traditions of Iran.3016 While they reverenced Ormuzd and Anaitis, Mithra was their special patron, as he was to Artaxerxes.3017 Mithra’s name appears constantly in the names of royal houses, such as Mithradates and Mithrobarzanes. The inscription on the tomb of Antiochus of Commagene, who boasted of his descent from Darius the son of Hystaspes, records the endowment of solemn Persian rites, and combines the names of Ormuzd and Zeus, of Apollo and Mithra.3018 In the submergence of national barriers which followed the fall of the Persian monarchy, and under the influence of Greek philosophy, that process of syncretism began in Asia Minor which was destined to produce such momentous results in the third and fourth centuries. But the Mazdean faith, strong in its associations with the ancient sources of spiritual enlightenment in the East, never succumbed to the western paganism. The classical gods might be admitted to the Mazdean heaven; Zeus might be confounded with Ormuzd; Anaitis might find an analogue in Artemis Tauropolus. But the ancient name of Mithra was never profaned in the liturgy by any translation.3019 It was chiefly perhaps in Phrygia and Lydia that alien worships produced a lasting effect in modifying the Persian theology. The pure morality of the Mithraist creed might seem to have little in common with the orgies of the devotees of Attis and the Great Mother. But religious sentiment has a miraculous power both to [pg 589]reject and to transmute. The costume and Phrygian cap of Attis appear on all the monuments of Mithra to the end. And, although it is a subject of debate, the taurobolium, that baptism of blood which was the most impressive rite of the later paganism, was, in all probability, early borrowed by Mithra from the ritual of Phrygia.3020 The pine, the emblem of immortality, which is so prominent in the scenes of mourning for Attis,3021 also has a place in the sculptured remains of the Persian chapels. And the title Menotyrannus, a title of Attis, which is given to the Persian god on many slabs, recalls his passage through the same region.3022 But Greek art had a more powerful and enduring effect on the future of Mithra than any of these accretions. Probably the ancient Persian faith recoiled from any material image of its divine powers,3023 although here also Assyria may have corrupted its purity. But when Hellenic imagination began to play around the Mazdean gods, the result was certain. The victorious Mithra was clothed with human form, and his legend was fixed for ever by some nameless Pergamene artist, who drew his inspiration from the “steer-slaying Victory” of Athens.3024 The group in which the youthful hero, his mantle blown back by the wind, with a Phrygian cap upon his head, kneels on the shoulder of the bull, as he buries his poniard in its throat, was for four centuries reproduced in countless chapels from the mouth of the Danube to the Solway. That symbolic scene, conveying so many meanings in its hieratic rigidity, became to the pious Mithraist what the image of the Divine Figure on the Cross has been for so many centuries to the devout Catholic.

The revelation of the spread of Mithra worship in the Roman Empire is one of the greatest triumphs of modern archaeology. Only faint notices of the cult are found in Herodotus, Xenophon, and Strabo.3025 Quintus Curtius knew the Persian god as the soldier’s special patron, inspiring courage in battle.3026 From the verses in the Thebaid of Statius we [pg 590]may conclude that he knew something of the service in Mithra’s grottoes, and that he had seen the figure of the “bull slaying” god.3027 Plutarch knows Mithra as the mediator between Ormuzd and Ahriman.3028 Lucian had probably seen the rites in his native Samosata; he knew the figure with the candys and tiara, and, from the sneer at the god’s ignorance of Greek, he may perhaps have heard the old Mazdean litany.3029 But he had probably little notion of the hold which Mithra had already obtained on the farthest regions of the West. Still less had he any prevision of his great destiny in the third and fourth centuries. Literature, down to the Antonine age, teaches us little of the character and strength of the worship. Without votive inscriptions and the many ruins of his chapels, along with the indignant, yet anxious, invective of the Christian apologists, we should never have known how near the Persian god came to justifying his title of the “Unconquered.”

It is impossible to fix the precise date when the worship of Mithra first crossed the Aegean. The silence of inscriptions must not indeed be taken as proving that he had no devotees in Italy before the Flavian age. A famous passage in Plutarch’s life of Pompey would seem to refer the first appearance of the worship in the West to the conquest of the pirates of Cilicia by Pompey, in 70 B.C.3030 A religion of the alien and the slave may well have been long domiciled in Italy before it attracted general notice. And there may have been humble worshippers of Mithra at Rome or Puteoli even in the days of Julius Caesar. The Mithraist inscription of the time of Tiberius is now admitted to be a forgery.3031 But from his reign may probably be dated the first serious inroads of the cult. Under Tiberius, Cappadocia was incorporated in the Empire, and Pontus under Nero; Commagene, the home of Jupiter Dolichenus, who was a firm ally of Mithra, was finally absorbed in the reign of Vespasian.3032 The official organisation of these districts, and the constant intercourse established between central Asia Minor and the capital, must have opened many channels for the importation of new forms [pg 591]of devotion from the East. Almost in the very year in which Statius was penning his verses about Mithra in the Thebaid, a freedman of the Flavian house erected a tablet to the god on the Esquiline,3033 and soldiers of the East carried his mysteries to the camps on the Danube. The 15th Legion, which had fought under Corbulo against the Parthians, and taken part in the conquest of Palestine in 70 A.D., in the first years of the reign of Vespasian, established the worship of Mithra at Carnuntum in Pannonia, which became henceforth the sacred city of Mithra in the West.3034 In 102 A.D. a marble group was dedicated by the slave of a praetorian prefect of Trajan.3035 It is probable that at Ostia we have records of the cult from the year 162.3036 The Mithraeum, found under the church of S. Clement at Rome, has yielded an inscription of the last years of Antoninus Pius. That emperor erected a temple to Mithra at Ostia.3037 Rome and Ostia were probably the earliest points in Italy invaded by the Persian worship. All the conditions were favourable to an early and rapid propagation of the cult in the capital of the world. Soldiers from the East would be serving in the garrison, or settled after their release from service. Eastern slaves swarmed in all the great houses, including that of the emperor. A large proportion of the dedications are made by men of servile origin, and the very name of the dedicator would often be enough to indicate his nationality. More than 100 inscriptions, more than 75 pieces of Mithraist sculpture, with the ruins of many chapels of the god, attest his powerful influence at Rome.3038 Ostia which, since the reconstruction of Trajan, had overshadowed Puteoli, was hospitable to all alien rites.3039 The port had at least four temples of Mithra in the second century, and it is significant of the alliance between the two worships, that a Mithraeum there was built close to a shrine of the Great Mother,3040 and that members of the college of the Dendrophori sometimes made offerings and dedications to Mithra.3041 [pg 592]The remains at Ostia disclose some other indications of the prevailing syncretism. The Roman Sylvanus has a niche in one Mithraeum, and, in another, Saturn and Jupiter, Mars, Mercury and Venus, are figured beside the purely Eastern symbols of the planets and the signs of the zodiac.3042

The inner secret of that rapid propaganda we shall never fully know. But we can discover with tolerable certainty the kind of people who carried the gospel of Mithra to the most remote parts of the western world. The soldiers were his most zealous missionaries.3043 Drafted from Cappadocia or Commagene, and quartered, far from his home, in a camp on the Danube or in the Black Forest, the legionary clung to the worship of his native East, and was eager to admit his comrades to fellowship in its rites. The appearance of Mithraism in certain places can be traced directly to the quartering of a legion which had been recruited from the countries which were the original home of the worship. Officers of eastern birth on promotion passed into other corps, and extended the influence of the East.3044 Centurions retiring from active service became apostles of the movement in the places where they settled. Syrian merchants, who were still found at Orleans in the time of the Merovingians, with all the fanaticism of their race popularised their native worships in the ports of Italy, Gaul, along the coasts of the Adriatic, and among the centres of commerce on the Danube or the Rhine.3045 The civil servants of the emperor, clerks and commissaries of every degree, procurators and agents of great estates, who were often men of servile origin, have left many traces of their zeal in spreading the Persian worship both throughout Italy and in countries north of the Alps.3046 The slave class probably did as much for the glory of Mithra as any other.3047 It was largely drawn from Cappadocia, Pontus, and Phrygia, those regions where the religion of Mithra had taken deep root before it passed into Europe. And, like the Christian, the religion of Mithra was, at the outset of its career, a religion of the poor and humble. It was only in the second century that it achieved the conquest of the court and the educated classes. It was probably through slaves that [pg 593]it found its way into remote corners of Apulia, Lucania, or Etruria.3048

The stages in the spread of the Mithraist rites throughout Italy cannot be clearly traced. But in the second century the cult was established not only in Campania, Capreae, and Ischia, but in lonely country places in Southern Italy.3049 It had spread to a circle of towns around Rome—Lanuvium, Alba, Velitrae, Labici, and Praeneste.3050 Borne by traders, imperial officers or slaves, it followed the line of the great roads to the north. Thus we can trace its march along the Via Cassia through Etruria, at Volsinii, Arretium, and Florence.3051 It arrived at Pisa probably by sea. Along the Flaminian Way, it may be followed through Interamna, Spoletium, and Sentinum to Bononia. At Nersae, in the Aequian territory, the cult must have been of some antiquity in 172 A.D.3052 For, in that year the treasurer of the town, a man probably of the slave class, restored a chapel which had fallen into ruins. The roll of the patrons of a Mithraist society at Sentinum has come down to us, with the names of slaves or freedmen among its members.3053 In Gallia Cisalpina the traces of Mithra are less frequent. Milan, already growing to its great destiny in the fourth century, and Aquileia, are the chief seats of the Persian cult. Aquileia has yielded a large number of inscriptions. From its situation at the mouth of the Po, as the great entrepÔt for the trade between the Adriatic and the Danubian provinces, it must have powerfully stimulated the diffusion of the worship.3054 It is curious, however, that the passes of the Alps have yielded richer booty to the investigator in this field than the plains of Lombardy. In the mountain valleys leading to Rhaetia and Noricum, as well as in those above the Italian lakes, many relics of this far-spreading religion have been given to the light.3055 A temple of Mithra has been discovered near Trent, in the valley of the Adige. In the Tyrol and Carinthia sacred grottoes, buried among woods and rocks, have disclosed bas-reliefs, sculptured with the traditionary figures of [pg 594]Persian legend. They were probably frequented by the faithful down to the reign of Valentinian.3056 Throughout Noricum and Pannonia imperial functionaries or agents of private enterprise, procurators, clerks of the treasury, custom-house officers, or eastern freedmen and slaves, have left many traces of their devotion to the Persian god.3057 Thus, everywhere along the great roads which radiated from Aquileia to the markets or strong places upon the Danube, the votary of Mithra would find in the days of the Antonines many a shrine, stately or humble, where he could refresh his piety by the way.

The Greek provinces have yielded but few memorials of the worship of Mithra. But, from the mouth of the Danube to the north of England his triumphant march can be traced, with only a break here and there. He follows the line of the rivers or the great roads, through the frontier camps or the centres of Roman commerce. Firmly seated at Tomi and the ports of the Black Sea, Mithra has not left many traces, so far as exploration has gone, in Thrace and Macedonia.3058 Nor have the Moesias as yet contributed many monuments, although at Troesmis and Oescus, along the great military road, bas-reliefs and inscriptions have been brought to light.3059 Next to Pannonia and the territory of the Upper Rhine, Dacia was the province where Mithraism seems to have reached its greatest popularity in Europe.3060 In the year 107, after six desolating and often doubtful campaigns, Dacia was resettled and organised by Trajan.3061 Its depopulated fields were colonised with immense masses of men from all parts of the Roman world. Probably there has seldom been such a colluvies gentium assembled. And, among these alien settlers, there were many from Edessa, Palmyra, and those regions of the East where Mithra or his kindred deities had their earliest and most fervent worshippers.3062 In the capital of the province, Sarmizegetusa, an excavated Mithraeum has afforded fifty bas-reliefs and inscriptions.3063 The colony of Apulum can show the remains of at least four temples. And Potaissa and other places, with names strange to English ears, have enriched the museums.

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Pannonia abounds with interesting remains of Mithra, not only in the great seats of Roman power on the Danube, but in places far in the interior. And in this province can be distinctly traced not only the progress of the military propaganda, but the dates, with approximate accuracy, when the mysteries of Mithra were first introduced.3064 Aquincum and Carnuntum were the chief seats of the Persian worship on the Danube. In the former town, the god had at least five chapels in the third century. There were at least four in the territory of Carnuntum, one of them being closely connected with that of the allied deity, Jupiter Dolichenus of Commagene.3065 The original votaries of the reign of Vespasian had been contented with a rude grotto, partially formed by the configuration of the rocks, the intervals being filled in with masonry.3066 This structure in the third century was replaced by a more stately edifice at the expense of a Roman knight.3067 There can be little doubt that the spread of Mithraism in Pannonia was chiefly the work of two Legions, the II. Adjutrix and XV. Apollinaris, both largely recruited from Commagene or Cappadocia.3068 The bricks of a Mithraeum at Carnuntum bear the stamp of the 15th Legion, and the inscriptions contain several dedications by soldiers of the two corps.3069 The 15th Legion, which was quartered on the Danube in 71 or 72, had fought under Corbulo against the Parthians, and had borne a part in suppressing the Jewish revolt of 70 A.D. We may be sure that the gaps in its ranks were filled by eastern recruits.3070 The soldiers of other corps, such as the Legions XIII and XIV, Geminae Martiae, caught the religious enthusiasm, and took part in the erection of buildings and in monumental offerings.3071 It was probably through officers, transferred from the Danube, that the worship was introduced into the camp of Lambaesis in Numidia. There is a tablet of the third century to Mithra in that camp, dedicated by a prefect of the 3rd Legion, who was born at Carnuntum.3072 In Noricum and Rhaetia, the military propaganda seems to have been less vigorous than in [pg 596]Pannonia. But a corner of the former province was once guarded by a corps from Commagene, which has left traces of its presence in the name of a town on the Danube and in some monuments to Mithra.3073 In Rhaetia his remains are singularly scanty.3074 But when we come to the Agri Decumates and the region of the Upper Rhine, we find ourselves in a district once more teeming with relics of Mithra. Not only has this region given to the light the largest number of his chapels,3075 but the bas-reliefs found in their ruins surpass all others in their dimensions and the completeness of their symbolism. The tauroctonus group of Osterburken is regarded as the masterpiece of Mithraist art in its complex variety and the vivid and masterly skill of the execution.3076 Many of the German inscriptions to Mithra are offered by simple citizens. But, from the number dedicated by soldiers also, Cumont may be right in tracing the diffusion of the worship once more to military zeal. It is true, the legions quartered in Germany did not contain any considerable number of recruits from the East. But they were in constant communication with the camps upon the Danube, where oriental influences were strong. It is significant that the earliest inscription to Mithra yet found in Germany, of the year A.D. 148, is that of a centurion of the 8th Legion, which was quartered in Moesia from 47 till 69, and which during that time had frequent communications with the East. The legion was in 70 removed from Moesia to Upper Germany.3077 It is probable that, however it was introduced, the worship of Mithra may have found its way into the valley of the Neckar, and even to the Lower Rhine, before the end of the first century. Coins of Trajan have been found in the temple at Friedberg;3078 a series of coins from Vespasian to M. Aurelius has been recovered from a temple in the neighbourhood of Cologne.3079 From Cologne the line of conquest may be followed to Boulogne, the station of the British fleet. Thence the cult passed easily to London, which, in the time of Tacitus, was a centre of great commercial [pg 597]activity.3080 The legions probably carried the worship to the great camps of Caerleon, Chester and York. At all the guardposts of the great rampart of Hadrian, there were chapels of the eastern god, and the inscriptions show that the officers at this remote outpost of the Empire maintained a warm devotion to the religion of their native East.3081

The regions of the western world on which Mithra, from whatever causes, seems to have made least impression were Western Gaul, Spain, and North Africa.3082 Syrian merchants, slaves, or soldiers, had established the worship at Lyons, Arles, and Narbonne. But Elusa is the only place in Aquitaine where traces of it have been found. In Spain, the legionaries carried it only to a few remote frontier posts in Asturia or Gallicia.3083 The African garrisons, recruited largely from the surrounding country, remained true to their native deities, and the few inscriptions to Mithra at great military strongholds, like Lambesi, are probably due to the devotion of some of the higher officers, who had been transferred to these distant quarters from Syria or the Danube.3084

If we try to explain the fascination of this religion of central Asia for western minds, we must seek it partly in its theological system, partly in its ritual and clerical organisation, still more in its clear promise of a life beyond the grave. In these characteristics, Mithraism differed profoundly from Graeco-Roman paganism, and seemed, in the eyes of the Christian apologists, to be a deceptive imitation of the rites and doctrines of the Christian Church. Inspired with the tendency or ambition to gather many races into its fold, Mithraism was a compound of the influences of very different ages, and offered many footholds for the faith or superstition of the lands which it traversed in its march. It drew, from points widely severed in time and place, doctrine or symbolism or rite, from the ancient lands of the Aryan race, from the mountain homes of the Persians, from Babylon and Phrygia and Commagene, from the philosophy of Greece, and the mythologies of all the peoples among whom it came. Yet it [pg 598]never to the end ceased to be a Persian cult. In the Divine Comedy of Lucian, as it may be called, Mithra, even when he is admitted to Olympus, cannot speak in Greek.3085 His name is never disguised or translated. On many of his inscriptions the names of the old Mazdean pantheon, such as Ahriman, the power of evil, still figure.3086 The mystic beasts which are always present in the sacred scene of the tauroctonus, the lion, the dog, the snake, the scorpion, had all a hieratic meaning in Persian theology.3087 The cave, which was the immemorial sanctuary of the worship, amid all the mystic meanings attached to it by later Neo-Platonist speculation, carried the mind back to Zoroastrian symbolism.3088 The petra genetrix, which is figured on so many sacred slabs on the Danube and in Upper Germany, goes back to the very cradle of the worship.3089 The young god, emerging from the spires of rock, round which a serpent coils itself, is the first radiance of the upspringing sun, as on high, lonely peaks it flashes and broadens to the dawn. The great elemental powers, sun and moon, ocean, the winds and seasons, are generally grouped around the central piece, in forms borrowed from classic art.3090 Fire and water are always present; no chapel was without its fountain.3091 And the tradition of the astral lore of the Euphrates can be seen in the signs of the zodiac which encompass the sacred scene of mystic sacrifice in the chapels on the Upper Rhine.3092 The very letters of the name of Mithra, expanded into Meithras, according to S. Jerome, like the mystic word Abraxas, yielded to ingenious calculation the exact number of days in the year.3093 It is difficult for us to conceive how these frigid astronomical fancies should form a part in a religious system which undoubtedly from the beginning had a profound moral effect on its adherents. Yet it is well to remember that there was a time when the mystery of the stellar spaces, and the grandeur and beneficence of the sun, were the most awful and impressive things in human [pg 599]experience. The cold scrutiny of the telescope has long since robbed the heavenly orbs of their mystic power over human destiny. Yet even now, a man who has not been imbued with the influence of modern science, may, on some calm, starlit summer night, travel back in imagination to the dreams of the early star-gazers on the Ganges or the Euphrates, and fancy that, in the far solitary splendour and ordered movement of those eternal fires, which shine so serene and pitiless on this small point in the universe, there may be forces to guide or signs to predict the course of mortal destiny. Nor was it an altogether unworthy dream, which floated before the minds of so many generations, that in those liquid depths of space, where, in the infinite distance, the radiance of widely-severed constellations blends into a luminous haze, might be the eternal abode of spirits who, after their sojourn in the flesh, have purged themselves of earthly taint.3094

The relative influence of Babylon and ancient Iran in moulding the theology of Mithraism, has long been a subject of controversy. The opposing schools, represented by Lajard and Windischmann,3095 have been discredited or reconciled by saner methods of criticism, and wider archaeological knowledge. It is now seen that while Babylonia has left a deep impress on the creed of Mithra, yet the original Aryan or Persian elements still maintained their ascendency. Mithra, in his long journey, came under many influences; and he absorbed many alien ideas from the cults and art of the many lands through which he travelled. His tolerance, indeed, was one great secret of his power. But, while he absorbed, he assimilated and transmuted. He remained the god of Persia, while he gathered into his creed mystic elements that might appease the spiritual cravings of the western world.3096 His system came to represent the best theological expression of the long movement of pagan mysticism, which, beginning with the mythic names of Orpheus and Pythagoras, organised in the classic mysteries, elevated and glorified by the genius of Plato, ended, if it has ended, in the Neo-Platonic movement which offered a last resistance to the Christian church. The central ideas of that [pg 600]theory of life and death were presented to the neophyte in the mysteries of Mithra, and one of the last expounders of the Platonic creed, in the reign of Theodosius, had probably been initiated in one of the last chapels of the worship.3097 In that vision of human destiny, of the descent and ascent of the human soul, the old Orphic doctrine is united with the star-lore of the Euphrates. Travelling towards its future prison-house in the flesh, the spirit which leaves the presence of Ormuzd descends by the gate of Cancer, through the spheres of the seven planets, and in each acquires a new faculty appropriate to its earthly state. The Mithraist discipline and sacraments prepare it for the ascent after death. When the soul at last leaves its mortal prison, it has to submit to a great judgment in the presence of Mithra, and if it pass the ordeal, it may then return through the seven spheres, at each stage divesting itself of those passions or earthly powers, which it had taken on for a time in its downward journey.3098 Finally, through the remote gate of Capricorn, its sublimated essence will pass back again to ecstatic union with the Supreme. It is thus that the East and West, Orphic mysteries and Chaldaean astrology, combined to satisfy the craving for a moral faith and the vision of another world.

The religion of Mithra probably achieved its highest victory through an ethical theology, typified and made concrete to the average worshipper by an elaborate symbolism in rite and sculptured scene. But it had also a cosmic theology. Mithra, in virtue of his moral power, became in the end the central figure. But in nearly all his chapels can be discovered a divine hierarchy, in which, for ages, he did not hold the foremost rank. The highest place is given to Infinite Time, without sex or passions, or properly without even a name, although in order to bring him within the vulgar ken, he may be called Cronus or Saturn and imaged in stone as a lion, wrapped in the coils of a snake.3099 He is the author of life and death; he carries the keys of heaven, and in his limitless sway, he is identified with the unbending power of Fate. Like other cosmic systems of the East [pg 601]the Mazdean explained the universe by a succession of emanations from the Infinite First Cause.3100 From his own essence, Cronus engendered Earth and Heaven, whom mythologers may call Jupiter and Juno, and they in turn give life to Ocean. Jupiter, as in classical mythology, succeeded to the power of Cronus, and gave to the world the Olympian deities, along with Fortune, Themis, and the Fates. In the hemisphere of gloom and evil, another order was engendered by Infinite Time, which is represented by Ahriman, or, in the fancy of more western lands, by Pluto and Hecate. The evil spirits, who are their progeny, like the Titans of Greek legend, have tried to storm Olympus, and been hurled back to the under world.3101 There they still retain their power to plague and corrupt the race of men; but, by means of incantation, and sacrifice, their malice may be turned aside. In this daemonology Mithraism joined hands with the new Platonism, of which Plutarch, as we have seen, was one of the earliest apostles, and the affinity between them continued to the last age of paganism.3102 But it was in its divinisation of the elemental powers and heavenly bodies that this religion probably obtained its most powerful hold on an age profoundly fatalist and superstitious. The strife of the four elements figures under animal symbolism on innumerable sculptures of the chapels of Mithra, around the image of the bull-slaying God.3103 The divine fire which sparkles in the stars, and diffuses the warmth of life in animal or plant, blazed perpetually on the altar of the crypt.3104 The sun and moon are seldom missing from these slabs. In the great masterpiece of Mithraic art at Osterburken, the two deities occupy opposite corners of the tablet.3105 The sun-god, with a cloak floating from his right shoulder, is urging his four-horse team up the steep of heaven, and over the car floats Phosphorus, as a naked boy, bearing a torch in each hand. On the opposite side, Selene, crowned with the crescent and erect in her car, is urging her team of oxen downwards towards the gloom. On another piece, also found in the heart of Germany, there is an impressive scene, in which Mithra and the Sun, arrayed in eastern costume, stand side by side over a [pg 602]huge slaughtered bull. The sun god is handing to Mithra a bunch of grapes, which he receives with a gesture of admiration.3106

The most popular, and the least wholesome, element, which Mithraism borrowed from Babylon, was the belief in planetary influence. The seven planets became the arbiters of human destiny, and their number acquired a hieratic significance.3107 The days of the week and the seven principal metals were consecrated to them. The various grades of initiation into the mysteries of Mithra found a correspondence in the intervals of the seven spheres.3108 The soul, in descending to its earthly tenement for a season, passes through their successive realms, and assumes appropriate faculties in each, just as, on its release and ascension, it divests itself of them, one by one, as it returns to the region of ethereal purity. But the astral doctrine, introduced into the system of Iran from Chaldaea, was a dangerous addition to the creed. It was a fatal heritage from ages of benumbing superstition, and, while it gave an immense impetus to the progress of the solar cult, it counterbalanced, and, to some extent, neutralised its more spiritual and salutary doctrines.3109 A co-ordinate evil power, side by side with the beneficent Creator and Preserver, and his revealer and mediator, a host of daemons, tempting to sin, as well as visiting men with calamity, an iron Fate at the centre of the Universe, whose inevitable decrees are at once indicated and executed by the position and motions of the planets—all this gloomy doctrine lay like a nightmare on the human mind for many ages, and gave birth to all sorts of evil arts to discover or avert or direct the pitiless forces which controlled the fate of man. This is the dark side of Mithra worship, and, in this evil tradition from Babylon, which partially overlaid the purer creed of Persia, we may find some explanation of the strange blending of dark superstition with moral earnestness which characterised the reaction of Julian, the votary of the Sun, and the patron of Maximus.

But, although the deification of the great elemental powers and the mingled charm and terror of astrology gave the religion of Mithra a powerful hold on the West, there were [pg 603]other and nobler elements in his system which cannot escape the candid enquirer. The old unmoral, external paganism no longer satisfied the spiritual wants of all men in the second century. It is true the day will probably never come when the religion of many will not begin and end in solemn, stately rite, consecrated to the imagination by ancient use, and captivating the sense by scrupulously ordered ceremonial. The ritualist and the puritan conception of worship will probably always exist side by side, for they represent two opposite conceptions of religion which can never entirely blend. And certainly in the days of M. Aurelius the placid satisfaction in a sumptuous sacrifice, at which every word of the ancient litany was rendered to the letter, was still profoundly felt by many, even by the philosophic emperor himself. But there were other ideas in the air. Men heard from wandering preachers that God required other offerings than the “blood of bulls and the ashes of a heifer,” that the true worship was in the sacrifice of a purified spirit.3110 Platonist and Pythagorean, even when they might reverently handle the ancient symbolism of ritual, were teaching that communion with the Infinite Father was only possible to a soul emancipated from the tyranny of sense. Moreover, as we have seen, the new Platonism was striving to create some mediatorial power between the world of sense and the Infinite Spirit, transcending all old materialistic fancies of the Divine.3111 This Platonic daemonology, indeed, from the Christian point of view, was a very crude and imperfect attempt to bridge the gulf. And it had the graver fault that it was really a revival of the old mythology. Yet it was also an attempted reformation. It was an effort to introduce a moral influence into paganism. It was an effort to substitute for physical and naturalistic conceptions a moral theory of the government of the world. That was surely an immense advance in religious history, and foreshadowed the great revolution which was to launch the western world on a new spiritual career. The hosts of sister spirits, whom Maximus of Tyre imagines as surrounding and sustaining the life of men, involved in the darkness and sorrow of time, are [pg 604]a conception strange to the old paganism. And the need of mediatorial sympathy, of a sympathetic link, however slight, with the dim, awful Power, ever receding into more remote and mysterious distances, was also connected with the need of some assurance, or fainter hope, of a life beyond the tomb. To that hope the old classical paganism afforded only slight and shadowy nutriment. Yet, from hundreds of sepulchral inscriptions the yearning, often darkened by a doubt, appeals with pathetic force. Apart, in fact, from the crowd of mere antiquarian formalists and lovers of spectacle, there were, we believe, a great mass who longed for some channel through which they might have the faintest touch of sympathy with the Infinite Spirit; for some promise, however veiled in enigmatic symbolism, that this poor, puzzling, ineffectual life should not close impotently at death.

In all the Mazdean pantheon, it has been remarked, Mithra was the only divine figure that profoundly affected the religious imagination of Europe. Who can dare at this distance to pierce the mystery? But we may conjecture that the ascendency is partly due to his place as mediator in the Persian hierarchy, partly to the legends, emblazoned on so many slabs, of his miraculous and Herculean triumphs; but still more to the moral and sacramental support, and the sure hope of immortal life which he offered to his faithful worshippers. Mithra came as a deliverer from powers of evil and as a mediator between man and the remote Ormuzd. He bears the latter office in a double sense. In the cosmic system, as lord of light, he is also lord of the space between the heavenly ether and the mists of earth. As a solar deity, he is the central point among the planetary orbs.3112 In the ubiquitous group of the slaughtered bull, Mithra stands between the two Dadophori, Cautes and Cautopates, who form with him a sort of Trinity, and are said to be incarnations of him.3113 One of these figures in Mithraic sculpture always bears a torch erect, the other a torch turned downwards to the earth. They may have a double significance. They may figure the ascending light of dawn, and the last radiance of day as it sinks below the horizon. They may be taken to image the growth of solar strength to its midsummer triumphs, and its slow decline towards fading [pg 605]autumn and the cold of winter. Or again, they may shadow forth the wider and more momentous processes of universal death and resurgent life. But Mithra also became a mediator in the moral sense, standing between Ormuzd and Ahriman, the powers of good and evil, as Plutarch conceives him.3114 He is the ever victorious champion, who defies and overthrows the malignant demons that beset the life of man; who, above all, gives the victory over the last foe of humanity.

The legend of Mithra in hymn or litany is almost entirely lost. But antiquarian ingenuity and cultivated sympathy have plausibly recovered some of its meanings from the many sculptural remains of his chapels. On the great monuments of Virunum, Mauls, Neuenheim, and Osterburken, can be seen the successive scenes of the hero’s career. They begin with his miraculous birth from the “mother rock,” which was familiar to Justin Martyr, S. Jerome, and many of the Fathers.3115 The dedications petrae genetrici abound along the Danube, and the sacred stone was an object of adoration in many chapels.3116 A youthful form, his head crowned with a Phrygian cap, a dagger in one hand, and a torch in the other, is pictured emerging from an opening rock, around which sometimes a serpent is coiled. Shepherds from the neighbouring mountain gaze in wonder at the divine birth, and presently come nearer to adore the youthful hero, and offer him the firstlings of their flocks and fields.3117 And again, a naked boy is seen screening himself from the violence of the wind in the shelter of a fig tree; he eats of its fruit and makes himself a garment from the leaves.3118 In another scene, the sacred figure appears in full eastern costume, armed with a bow from which he launches an arrow against a rock rising in front of him.3119 From the spot where the arrow strikes the stone, a fountain gushes forth, and the water is eagerly caught in his upturned palms by a form kneeling below. Then follow the famous scenes of the chase and slaughter of the mystic bull. At first the beast is seen borne in a skiff over an expanse of waters. Soon afterwards [pg 606]he is grazing quietly in a meadow, when Mithra comes upon the scene. In one monument the hero is carrying the bull upon his shoulders; in others he is borne upon the animal’s back, grasping it by the horns. Or again, the bull is seen in full career with the hero’s arms thrown around his neck. At last the bull succumbs to his rider’s courage, and is dragged by the hind-legs, which are drawn over his captor’s shoulders, into a cavern where the famous slaughter was enacted.3120 The young god, his mantle floating on the wind, kneels on the shoulder of the fallen beast, draws back its head with his left hand, while with the other he buries his dagger in its neck.3121 Below this scene are invariably sculptured the scorpion, the faithful dog, and the serpent lapping the flowing blood. The two Dadophori, silent representatives of the worlds of light and gloom, one on each side, are always calm watchers of the mystic scene. But the destruction of the bull was not a mere spectacle of death. It was followed by a miracle of fresh springing life and fertility, and, here and there, on the slabs are seen ears of corn shooting from the tail of the dying beast, or young plants and flowers springing up around.3122 His blood gives birth to the vine which yields the sacred juice consecrated in the mysteries. Thus, in spite of the scorpion and the serpent, symbols of the evil powers, who seek to wither and sterilise the sources of vitality, life is ever rising again from the body of death.3123

Mithra’s mysterious reconciliation with the Sun is figured in other groups.3124 Mithra, as usual, in eastern costume, has, kneeling before him, a youthful figure either naked or lightly clad. The god touches the head of the suppliant with some mysterious symbol, and the subject of the rite raises his hands in prayer. The mystic symbol is removed, and Mithra sets a radiant crown on the suppliant’s head. This reconciliation of the two deities is a favourite subject. In the sculpture of Osterburken, they ratify their pact with solemn gestures before an altar. Their restored harmony is commemorated in even [pg 607]more solemn fashion. In one monument the two are reclining on a couch at a solemn agape, with a table before them bearing the sacred bread, which is marked with the cross, and both are in the act of raising the cup in their right hands.3125

The legend of Mithra, thus faintly and doubtfully reconstructed from the sacred sculptures, in the absence of express tradition, must probably for ever remain somewhat of an enigma. It has been, since the third century, the battle-ground of ingenious interpreters. To enumerate and discuss these theories, many of them now discredited by archaeological research, is far beyond the scope of this work. It is clear that from the early Chaldaean magi, who, to some extent, imposed their system on Iranian legend, down to the Neo-Platonists, the god and his attendants were treated as the symbols of cosmic theory. The birth from the rock was the light of dawn breaking over serrated crests of eastern hills.3126 The cave, which was always piously perpetuated in the latest Mithraist architecture, was the solid vault of heaven, and the openings pierced in its roof were the stars shining through the celestial dome.3127 The fountain which rose in every chapel, the fire on the altar, the animals surrounding the bull, represent the powers of nature in their changes and conflict. The young archer, causing water to spring from the rock by a shot from his bow, marks the miraculous cessation of prehistoric dearth, as the bull leaping from a skiff perhaps commemorates a primaeval deluge. The slaying of the bull, the central scene of all, may go back to the exploits of the heroic pioneers of settled life, a Hercules or a Theseus, who tamed the savage wilderness to the uses of man. It had many meanings to different ages. To one occupied with the processes of nature, it may have symbolised the withering of the vegetative freshness of the world in midsummer heats, yet with a promise of a coming spring. To another it may have meant a victory over evil spirits and powers of darkness.3128 Or it may, in the last days, have been the prototype of that sacramental cleansing which gave assurance of immortal life, and which seemed to the Fathers the mockery of a Diviner Sacrifice.

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There can be no doubt that Mithra and his exploits, in response to a great need, came to have a moral and spiritual meaning. From the earliest times, he is the mediator between good and evil powers; ever young, vigorous, and victorious in his struggles, the champion of truth and purity, the protector of the weak, the ever vigilant foe of the hosts of daemons who swarm round the life of man, the conqueror of death. His religion, in spite of its astrology, was not one of fatalist reverie; it was a religion of struggle and combat. In this aspect it was congenial to the virile Roman temperament, and, above all, to the temperament of the Roman soldier, at once the most superstitious and the most strenuous of men.3129 Who can tell what inspiration the young heroic figure, wearing an air of triumphant vigour even on the rudest slabs,3130 may have breathed into a worn old veteran, who kept ceaseless watch against the Germans in some lonely post on the Danube, when he spent a brief hour in the splendour of the brilliantly lighted crypt, and joined in the old Mazdean litany? Before him was the sacred group of the Tauroctonus, full of so many meanings to many lands and ages, but which, to his eyes, probably shed the light of victory over the perilous combats of time, and gave assurance of a larger hope. Suddenly, by the touch of an unseen hand, the plaque revolved,3131 and he had before him the solemn agape of the two deities in which they celebrated the peaceful close of their mystic conflict. And he went away, assured that his hero god was now enthroned on high, and watching over his faithful soldiers upon earth.3132 At the same time, he had seen around him the sacred symbols or images of all the great forces of nature, and of the fires of heaven which, in their motions and their effluences, could bring bane or happiness to men below. In the chapels of Mithra, all nature became divine and sacred, the bubbling spring, the fire on the cottage hearth, the wind that levelled the pine tree or bore the sailor on his voyage, the great eternal lights that brought seed-time and harvest and parted day from night, the ever-welling vital force in opening leaf and springing corn-ear, and birth of young creatures, triumphing in regular round over the [pg 609]malignant forces which seem for a time to threaten decay and corruption. The “Unconquered Mithra” is thus the god of light and hope in this world and the next.3133

The ancient world was craving for a promise of immortality. Mithraism strove to nurse the hope, but, like the contemporaneous Platonism and the more ancient Orphic lore, it linked it with moral responsibility and grave consequences. Votaries were taught that the soul descended by graduated fall from the Most High to dwell for a season in the prison of the flesh.3134 After death there is a great judgment, to decide the future destiny of each soul, according to the life which had been led on earth.3135 Spirits which have defiled themselves during life are dragged down by Ahriman and his evil angels, and may be consigned to torture, or may sink into endless debasement. The pure, who have been fortified by the holy mysteries, will mount upwards through the seven spheres, at each stage parting with some of their lower elements, till, at last, the subtilised essential spirit reaches the empyrean, and is received by Mithra into the eternal light.

But the conflict between good and evil, even on this earth, will not last for ever. There will be a second coming of Mithra, which is to be presaged by great plagues. The dead will arise from their tombs to meet him. The mystic bull will again be slain, and his blood, mingled with the juice of the sacred Haoma, will be drunk by the just, and impart to them the gift of eternal life.3136 Fire from heaven will finally devour all that is evil. Thus the slaughter of the bull, which is the image of the succession of decay and fructifying power in physical nature, is also the symbol and guarantee of a final victory over evil and death. And, typifying such lofty and consolatory truths, it naturally met the eye of the worshipper in every chapel. It was also natural that the taurobolium, which was originally a rite of the Great Mother, should be absorbed, like so many alien rites and ideas, by the religion which was the great triumph of syncretism. The baptism of blood was, indeed, a formal cleansing from impurity of the flesh; but it was also cleansing in a higher sense. The inscrip[pg 610]tions of the fourth century, which commemorate the blessing of the holy rite, often close with the words in aeternum renatus.3137 How far the phrase expressed a moral resurrection, how far it records the sure hope of another life, we cannot presume to say. Whether borrowed from Christian sources or not, it breathes an aspiration strangely different from the tone of old Roman religion, even at its best. There may have been a good deal of ritualism in the cleansing of Mithra. Yet Mithra was, from the beginning, a distinctly moral power, and his worship was apparently untainted by the licence which made other heathen worships schools of cruelty and lust. His connection, indeed, with some of them, must at times have led his votaries into more than doubtful company; Sabazius and Magna Mater were dangerous allies.3138 Yet, on the whole, it has been concluded that Mithraism was a gospel of truth and purity, although the purity was often a matter of merely ceremonial purification and abstinence.

The day is far distant when the mass of men will be capable of the austere mystic vision, which relies little on external ceremonies of worship. Certainly the last ages of paganism in the West were not ripe for any such reserved spirituality. And the religions which captivated the ages that preceded the triumph of the Catholic Church, while they strove to satisfy the deeper needs of the spirit, were more intensely sacerdotal, and more highly organised than the old religions of Greece and Rome. Probably no small part of their strength lay in sacramental mystery, and an occult sacred lore which was the monopoly of a class set apart from the world.3139 Our knowledge of the Mithraic priesthood is unfortunately scanty, and the ancient liturgy has perished.3140 But inscriptions mention an ordo sacerdotum; and Tertullian speaks of a “high pontiff of Mithra” and of holy virgins and persons vowed to continence in his service.3141 The priestly functions were certainly more constant and exacting than those of the old priestly colleges of Greece and Rome. There were [pg 611]solemn sacraments and complicated rites of initiation to be performed. Three times a day, at dawn, noon, and evening, the litany to the Sun was recited.3142 Daily sacrifice was offered at the altars of various gods, with chanting and music. The climax of the solemn office was probably marked by the sounding of a bell.3143 And turning on a pivot, the sacred slab in the apse displayed, for the adoration of the faithful, the scene of the holy feast of Mithra and the Sun after their reconciliation. The seventh day of the week was sacred to the Sun, the sixteenth of each month to Mithra, and the 25th of December, as marking the sun’s entrance on a new course of triumph, was the great festival of Mithra’s sacred year.3144

Initiation in the mysteries, after many rites of cleansing and trial, was the crowning privilege of the Mithraist believer. The gradation of spiritual rank, and the secrecy which bound the votaries to one another in a sacred freemasonry, were a certain source of power. S. Jerome alone has preserved for us the seven grades through which the neophyte rose to full communion. They were Corax, Cryphius, Miles, Leo, Perses, Heliodromus, and Pater.3145 What their origin was who shall say? They may correspond to the seven planets, and mark the various stages of the descent of the soul into flesh, and its rise again to the presence of God. According to Porphyry, the first three stages were merely preliminary to complete initiation. Only the Lions were full and real communicants,3146 and the title Leo certainly appears oftenest on inscriptions. The dignity Pater Patrum, or Pater Patratus, was much coveted, and conferred a real authority over the brethren, with an official title to their reverence.3147 The admission to each successive grade was accompanied by symbolic ceremonies, as when the Miles put aside the crown twice tendered to him, saying that Mithra was his only crown.3148 The veil of the Cryphius, and the Phrygian bonnet of the Perses, have a significance or a history which needs no comment. Admission [pg 612]to full communion was preceded by austerities and ordeals which were made the subject of exaggeration and slander. The neophyte, blindfold and bound, was obliged to pass through flame. It was said that he had to take part in a simulated murder with a blood-dripping sword. On the sculpture of Heddernheim a figure is seen standing deep in snow. These ceremonies probably went back to the scenes and ages in which mutilations in honour of Bellona and Magna Mater took their rise. They may also have been a lesson, or a test of apathy and moral courage.3149 But the tales of murder and torture connected with these rites have probably no better foundation than similar slanders about the early Christian mysteries.3150

The votaries of Mithra, like those of Isis and other eastern deities, formed themselves into guilds which were organised on the model of ordinary sodalities and colleges. As funerary societies, or under the shelter of Magna Mater, they escaped persecution. They had their roll of members, their council of decurions, their masters and curators.3151 And, like the secular colleges, they depended to a great extent, for the erection of chapels and the endowment of their services, on the generosity of their wealthier members and patrons.3152 One man might give the site of a chapel, another a marble altar; a poor slave might contribute out of his peculium a lamp or little image to adorn the walls of the crypt.3153

One undoubted cause of the success of Mithra in the West was the spirit of fraternity and charity which was fostered in his guilds. The hopeless obscurity and depression of the plebeian and servile classes had some alleviation in companies where, for the moment, the poor and lowly-born found himself on an equality with his social superiors. Plebeians and the slaves had a great part in the propagation of the eastern worships, and especially that of the God of Light.3154 In his [pg 613]mysteries and guilds the highest dignities were open to them.3155 Moreover, from the size of the chapels it is clear that the congregations were generally small, so that the members of lower social importance were not lost in a crowd.3156 Growing numbers were accommodated, not by enlarging, but by multiplying the shrines.

In the sacraments of Mithra, Tertullian and other Apologists perceived a diabolic parody of the usages of the Church.3157 The acceptio of the neophytes, the sacramentum, in which they were pledged to secrecy and holy service, the sign or brand made on the brow of the Miles, the ablutions or baptism with holy water, as in the rites of Isis, whatever their origin, could not fail, in an age of death-struggle for supremacy, to arouse the suspicions and fears of the champions of the Church.3158 Finally, the consecrated bread and mingled water and wine, which were only offered to the higher grades, may well have seemed the last and worst profanation of the most solemn Christian rite. The draught from the mystic cup, originally the juice of Haoma, was supposed to have supernatural effects. It imparted not only health and prosperity and wisdom, but also the power to conquer the spirits of evil and darkness, and a secret virtue which might elude the grasp of death.3159

The temples in which these rites took place repeated for ages the same original type. Mithra and his cave are inseparable ideas, and the name spelaeum, antrum, or specus, remained to the end the regular designation of his chapels.3160 In country places, grottoes or recesses on the side of a rocky hill might supply a natural oratory of the ancient type.3161 But, in the centre of great towns, the skill of the architect had to simulate the rude structure of the original cavern. Entering through an open portico, the worshipper found himself in an antechapel, through which he passed into another chamber which was called the apparatorium, where the priests and neophytes arrayed themselves in their robes or masques before the holy [pg 614]rites.3162 Thence they descended by stairs to the level of the cave-like crypt, which was the true sanctuary. On each side there ran a bench of stone, on which was ranged the company of the initiated.3163 The central aisle led up to the apse, against the walls of which was set the sculptured scene of the slaying of the bull, surrounded by the symbolic figures and emblems of Chaldaean star-lore, with altars in front.3164 This was the holiest place, and, from some remains, it would seem to have been railed in, like the chancel of one of our churches.3165 The neophyte, as he approached, must have been impressed by a dazzling scene. On either side the congregation knelt in prayer. Countless lamps shed their brilliant light on the forms of ancient Hellenic gods, or on the images of the mighty powers of earth or ether3166—above all, on the sacred scene which was the memorial of the might of the “unconquered.” The ancient rhythmic litany was chanted to the sound of music; the lights came and went in startling alternations of splendour and gloom. The draught of the sacred cup seemed to ravish the sense. And the votary, as in the Isiac vision in Apuleius, for a moment seemed borne beyond the bounds of space and time into mystic distances.3167

The Persian cult owed much of its success to imperial and aristocratic favour. The last pagan emperor of the West, the last generation of the pagan aristocracy, were devotees of the Sun-god. It is a curious thing that even under the early Empire Mithraism seems never to have suffered from the suspicion and persecution with which other alien worships had to contend.3168 Its close league with the cult of the Great Mother, which, since the second century B.C., had been an established institution, may have saved Mithra from official mistrust. He also emerged into prominence in the age in which imperial jealousy of guilds and colleges was visibly relaxing its precautions.3169 A more satisfying explanation may perhaps be found in the sympathy of the Flavian dynasty3170 and the [pg 615]princes of the third century for the religious ideas of the East, and in the manifest support which heliolatry lent to growing absolutism and the worship of the Caesars.

The apotheosis of the emperors began even in the time of the first Caesar, who rose to the highest divine honours before his death. But it was long a fluctuating and hesitating creed. The provinces, and particularly the cities of Asia Minor,3171 were more eager to decree temples and divine honours to the lord of the world than even the common people of Italy. The superstitious masses and the soldiery, indeed, were equal to any enthusiasm of flattery and superstition. But the cultivated upper class, in spite of the effusive compliance of court poets,3172 having but little belief in any Divine Powers, were not likely to yield an easy faith to the godhead of a Claudius or a Nero.3173 The emperors themselves, belonging to this class, and often sharing its fastidious scepticism, for a time judiciously restrained a too exuberant devotion to their person.3174 The influence of Herod may have filled the lunatic imagination of Caligula with dreams of an eastern despotism and the superhuman dignity of kings.3175 Nero, who had visions of a new monarchy with its seat on eastern hills, may have rejoiced in being adored by Tiridates as the equal of Mithra.3176 But the politic Augustus, while he permitted the foundation of temples and priestly orders in his honour throughout the provinces, and even in Italian towns, along with the divinity of Rome, obstinately refused to have shrines erected to him in the capital.3177 Tiberius pursued the same policy, which was congenial to his cold, realistic temperament. Vespasian, although eastern superstition had a certain charm for him, jested on his death-bed about his own claims to divinity.3178 It was reserved for his son Domitian to be the first emperor who claimed the salutation of “Dominus et Deus” in his lifetime.3179 The best of the early emperors aspired to full divine honours only when their career on earth had closed.

[pg 616]

Many historic causes made their posthumous elevation to divine rank seem not unnatural. The cult of the Manes, or good spirits of departed friends and ancestors, prepared the Roman mind to adore the memory of the father of the State. The legendary kings of the Latin race—Saturnus, Faunus, Picus, Latinus—were worshipped as Di indigetes;3180 Romulus had vanished in a tempest and been carried up to heaven to join the company of the gods. The hero-worship of the Greeks, which raised to semi-divine state after death those who had done great deeds of service to mankind, who had founded cities, or manifested splendid gifts of mind or body, influenced the imagination of a people who had long sat at the feet of Greece. Greek cities raised altars to Rome and to Roman generals who had enslaved them.3181 When the Senate decreed divine honours to a dead emperor, he became divus, not deus, at least to the cultivated class, and divus is a title which even modern sentiment might accord to men who have borne a great and shining part in a world-wide system of administration. The Spartan women were said to call great warriors, men who won their admiration by gallantry, “divine.”3182 To the masses the dead emperor no doubt became a veritable god, as the image of M. Aurelius two centuries after his death was found among the penates of every pious family in the West.3183 But the philosophic man of the world might also honestly accept the imperial apotheosis by the decree of the Senate, in the sense that another figure had been added to the rare company of those who have been lifted by fortune or merit far above their fellows, and have filled a great space in the life of humanity. People, who for generations erected shrines to the minion of Hadrian, might easily believe in the claims of the Antonine emperors to a place among the gods.

The influence of Egypt and Persia lent its force to stimulate native and original tendencies to king-worship, and to develop the principate of Augustus into the theocratic despotism of Aurelian and Diocletian. The eastern peoples were always eager to lavish on the emperors the adoration which they had been used to offer to their native princes. The ancient [pg 617]Pharaohs had been revered as incarnations of the deity and gods upon earth.3184 The Ptolemies inherited and utilised so useful a superstition. These ideas spread into Italy with the diffusion of the Isiac cult among the upper class, and through the influence of travellers and envoys who kept up a fruitful intercourse between Alexandria and Rome. But Egypt went rather too far for the western mind in its apotheosis of kings.3185 A more potent and congenial influence came from the lands of the remoter East. The Persians prostrated themselves before their monarchs, but they did not actually adore them as gods. They reverenced the daemon, or, in Roman phrase, the “genius Caesaris,” without worshipping the monarch himself.3186 The king was supposed to be enlightened, inspired, and guarded by a heavenly grace; his brow was crowned by a divine aureole. Yet he was not the equal of God. But the majesty and fortune of kings was something divine and supernatural; they reigned by special grace and had a divine protection. The dynasties who succeeded to the great heritage of the East exploited these ideas to the full, and the most solemn oath was by the Fortune of the King.3187 The superstition of Chaldaea, which connected all human destiny with the orbs of heaven, exercised a profound influence for many centuries both in the East and West. And the Sun, the monarch of the heavens, often identified with Mithra, was regarded as the special patron of kings, enduing them with irresistible power, and guarding their lofty destiny. These ideas spread easily from Pontus and Commagene into the western world. In eastern cities, Caligula and Nero had altars raised to them as solar deities,3188 and Tiridates offered to Nero the adoration due to Mithra.3189 The enigmatical goddess Fortuna, who seems to have had early associations with the Sun,3190 gained fresh strength from the ideas of the divinised destiny of eastern monarchs. According to Plutarch, Tyche left the regions of Assyria and Persia to make her home on the Palatine.3191 The [pg 618]republican “Fortune of the Roman People” naturally passed into the “Fortuna Augusti,” which appears on the imperial coins from the reign of Vespasian. In the age of the Antonines, the image of the goddess in gold always stood in the prince’s bed-chamber, and was transferred at the hour of his death to his successor.3192 With the reign of Commodus, who was himself initiated both in the Isiac and Mithraic mysteries, begins the temporary triumph of the oriental cults, which was to reach its height in the reign of Julian. The absence of full materials for the history of the third century,3193 a century crowded with great events, and pregnant with great spiritual movements, should perhaps impose greater caution in tracing the development of imperial power than some writers have always observed. Yet there can be little doubt that the monarchy of the West tended to become a theocratic despotism, and that Persian Sun-worship had a large share in this development. There was always a sober sense in the West which rebelled against the oriental apotheosis of the prince.3194 Yet the iterated adulation, so often recorded faithfully in the Augustan History, reveals an extraordinary abasement of the upper class before the person of the emperor.3195 The emperors never, indeed, claimed like the Sassanids to be “brothers or sons of the Sun and Moon.”3196 But in their official style and insignia there were many approaches to the divine claims of the monarchs of the East. The title invictus, sacred to Mithra and the Sun, was assumed by Commodus, and borne by his successors.3197 The still more imposing title of “eternal,” springing from the same origin, came into vogue in the third century, and appears in the edicts of the last shadowy emperors of the fifth. From the reign of Nero, the imperial crown with darting rays, symbolised the solar ancestry of the prince. Gallienus used to go forth crowned in this manner, and with gold dust in his hair, and raised a colossal statue of himself in the garb of the Sun.3198 The coins of Aurelian, who built the great temple of the Sun from the spoils of Palmyra, bear the legend “deo et domino nato.”3199 The West probably never took [pg 619]these assumptions so literally as the East. But metaphor and imagery tended to become a real faith. The centre of the great religion which was to be the last stronghold of paganism, was the prototype of the emperor in the starry world, and his protector on earth. And the solar grace which surrounded the prince found an easy explanation in the mystic philosophy of the soul’s descent which had been absorbed by Mithraism. In coming to earth from the empyrean, the future lord of the world received a special gift of grace and power from the great luminary which is the source of light and life. The religion of the Sun thus tended to become a great spiritual support of an absolutism which was more and more modelling itself on the royalty of the East. The cult of the Sun, which was established in such splendour in 273 A.D. by Aurelian, must have had a great effect in preparing for the oriental claims of monarchy from the reign of Diocletian. Thirty years after the foundation of the stately shrine on the Esquiline, and only twenty years before the conversion of Constantine, all the princes of the imperial house, Jovii Herculii, Augusti, Caesares, as an inscription tells, united to restore a temple of Mithra at Carnuntum, his holy city on the Danube.3200 But the days of Mithra as the god of kings were numbered. After the establishment of the Christian Empire, he had a brief illusory triumph in the reign of Julian, and again in the short-lived effort of reaction led by Eugenius and Nicomachus Flavianus, which had a tragic close in the battle on the Frigidus. Yet his mystic theology was the theme of debate among Roman nobles, trained in the philosophy of Alexandria, long after his last chapels had been buried in ruins; and his worship lingered in secluded valleys of the Alps or the Vosges into the fifth century.3201 The theocratic claim of monarchy, to which Mithra lent his support for so many generations, was destined, in its symbols and phrases, to have a long reign.

M. Renan has hazarded the opinion that, if the Christian Church had been stricken with some mortal weakness, Mithraism might have become the religion of the western world. And, indeed, its marvellously rapid diffusion in Italy and the [pg 620]provinces along the Danube and the Rhine, in the second and third centuries, might well have inspired the hope of such a splendid destiny. Although it was primarily a kingly and military creed, it appealed in the end to all classes, by many various attractions. Springing from remote regions of the East, it seemed instinctively to seize the opportunity offered by a marvellous political unity, along with anarchy in morals and religion, to satisfy the imperious needs of a world eager for spiritual light and hope, but distracted among the endless claimants for its devotion. Philosophy had long tried and was still trying to find a spiritual synthesis, and to draw from old mythologies a support for life and conduct. Might not religion succeed where philosophy had failed? Or rather, might not religion gather up into itself the forces of philosophy, and transmute and glorify them in a great concrete symbol? Might not the claims of the past be harmonised with the higher intuitions of a more instructed age, and the countless cults embraced within the circuit of the Roman power be reconciled with the supreme reverence for one central divine figure, as the liberties of an Alpine canton, like those of a great city of Asia, were sheltered under the unchallenged supremacy of Rome? Mithra made the effort, and for the time he succeeded. In his progress to what seemed an almost assured victory, he swept into his orbit the Greek and Latin and Phrygian gods—nay, even the gods of Celtic cantons.3202 They all found a place in his crypts, beside his own sacred image and the Persian deities of his original home. Their altars were ranged around his chapels, and were duly visited by his priests. Yet, though the Persian deity might seem very cosmopolitan and liberal in his indulgence to parochial devotion, he never abated his own lofty claims, and he never forgot his ancestry. While he might ally himself with Magna Mater and Jupiter Dolichenus, he coldly repulsed any association with Isis and Serapis, who were his rivals for oecumenical sway. The old hostility between the worships of Persia and Egypt was only softened in the internecine conflict of both with a more powerful foe. It is only in the last stone records that a votary of Mithra is found combining a devotion to Isis.3203 The claims of the Sun-god to spiritual primacy are [pg 621]expounded in the orations of Julian and the dissertations of Praetextatus in the Saturnalia of Macrobius. Monotheism in the pagan world was not, indeed, a new thing. It goes back to the philosophers of Ionia and Elea, to Aeschylus and Plato. Nor was syncretism unknown to earlier ages. The Greeks of the days of Herodotus identified the gods of Egypt with their own, as Julius Caesar and Tacitus identified Gallic and German deities with those of the Roman pantheon.3204 But the monotheistic syncretism of Mithra was a broader and more sweeping movement. Local and national gods represented single aspects of nature. Mithra was seated at the centre on which all nature depends. If nature-worship was to justify itself in the eyes of philosophic reason, men must rise to the adoration of the Sun-king, the head of a great hierarchy of divine forces, by means of which he acts and diffuses his inexhaustible energy throughout the universe. And such is the claim made for him by Praetextatus, in the Saturnalia of Macrobius, who was a high adept in the mysteries of Mithra.

But the world needed more than a great physical force to assuage its cravings; it demanded a moral God, Who could raise before the eyes of men a moral ideal, and support them in striving to attain it; One Who could guide and comfort in the struggles of life, and in the darkness of its close, Who could prepare the trembling soul for the great ordeal, in which the deeds done in the body are sifted on the verge of the eternal world. In fulfilling his part, Mithra could rely on his own early character as a god of truth and righteousness, a mediator between the powers of good and evil: he had also the experience of the classic mysteries, stretching back to the legendary Orpheus, which, in whatever crude, shadowy symbolism, had taught for ten centuries the doctrine of a moral sequence between this life and the next. The descent of the soul into gross material form, and its possible ascent again, if duly fortified, to ethereal worlds, was common to Mithra and the Orphic and Pythagorean systems. Such a system on one side sad and pessimist, on another was full of the energy of hope. And Mithraism combined the two. It was a religion of strenuous effort and warfare, with the prospect of high rewards in some far-off eternal life.

[pg 622]

It is little wonder that the Fathers, from the second century, saw in Mithra the most formidable foe of Christ. Indeed, the resemblances between the two religions, some of them superficial, others of a deeper kind, were very striking. How far some of these were due to a common stock of ideas in East and West, how far they were the result of conscious borrowing and mutual imitation, seems to be an insoluble problem. The most learned student of the cult of Mithra is the most cautious in his conclusions on the subject.3205 On the one hand, the two religions, in outlying regions of the Empire, long followed different lines of dispersion. Christianity from its origin in the religion of Israel, spread at first among the cities on the Mediterranean, chiefly where there were colonies of Jews.3206 On the other hand, outside Italy, Mithraism, which was propagated by soldiers and imperial officers, followed the line of the camps and centres of commerce chiefly along the great rivers of the northern frontier. Yet at Ostia and Rome and elsewhere, the two eastern religions must have been early brought face to face. In the syncretism of that age, the age of Gnosticism, rites and doctrines passed easily from one system to another. Mithra certainly absorbed much from kindred worships of Asia Minor, from Hellenic mysteries, and from Alexandrian philosophy. It is equally certain that the Church did not disdain a policy of accommodation, along with the consecration of altars of Christ in the old shrines of paganism. The cult of local heroes was transferred to saints and martyrs. Converts found it hard to part with consecrated phrases and forms of devotion, and might address Jesus in epithets sacred to the Sun. Some Christians in the fifth century still saluted the rising sun with a prayer.3207

Futile attempts have been made to find parallels to Biblical narrative or symbolism in the faint and faded legend of Mithra recovered from his monuments, the miraculous birth, the sacred rock, the adoration of the shepherds, the grotto,—above all, in the mystic sacrifice of the bull, which seemed to occupy the same space in Mithraic devotion as the Sacrifice on Calvary. But one great weakness of Mithraism lay precisely here—that, in place of the narrative of a Divine life, instinct [pg 623]with human sympathy, it had only to offer the cold symbolism of a cosmic legend. In their offices and sacramental system the two religions had a more real affinity. Mithra had his baptism and confirmation of new disciples, his ablutions, ascetic preparation for the sacred mysteries, and holy feasts of the consecrated bread and wine, where the mystic draught gave purity and life to soul and body, and was the passport to a life in God. The sacerdotal and liturgical character of his worship, with its striking symbolism, using to the full the emotional effects of lights and music and sacred pomp, offered to souls, who were ripe for a diviner faith, some of that magical charm which was to be exerted over so many ages by the Catholic Church. There are, however, deeper and more fundamental resemblances between the faiths of Mithra and of Christ, and it was to these that the Persian cult owed its great superiority to classical mythology and the official Roman paganism. It responded to a great spiritual movement, of which it is one great object of this book to show the sweep and direction. Formal devotion and ascetic discipline were linked with lofty doctrines as to the origin of the human spirit and an immortal destiny, depending on conduct, as well as sacramental grace, through Mithra the mediator. While the vulgar may have rested in the external charm and power of the worship, there were others who drank in a more spiritual creed expounded to us by one of the last Neo-Platonic votaries of the Sun-God. It told of a fall of the soul into the duress of the body, for a brief period of probation, of a resurrection and great judgment, of a final ascent and beatitude in the life in God, or of endless exile from His presence.3208

And yet the two systems were separated by an impassable gulf, and Mithra had associations which could not save him from the fate of Jupiter and Demeter, of Hecate and Isis. It is true that his fate was hastened by hostile forces and causes external to religion. Many of his shrines in the Danubian provinces, and along the upper Rhine, were desolated and buried in ruins by the hordes of invaders in the third century.3209 And in the fourth century, the fiercest assaults of the Christian Empire were directed against the worship which was thought to be the patron of magic arts, and a device of the Evil One to travesty and defy the Religion of the [pg 624]Cross.3210 But material force, however fiercely and decisively exerted, although it hastened the doom of the Persian god, only anticipated an inevitable defeat.

A certain severity in Mithraism, which marked it off honourably from other worships of the East, also weakened it as a popular and enduring force. The absence of the feminine charm in its legend, while it saved it from the sensual taint of other heathen systems, deprived it of a fascination for the softer and more emotional side of human nature.3211 Although women may, perhaps, have not been altogether excluded from his mysteries,3212 still Mithra did not welcome them with the warm sympathy which gave Demeter and Magna Mater and Isis so firm a hold on the imagination of women for many generations. The Mater Dolorosa has in all ages been an enthralling power. The legend of the Tauroctonus was a religion for strenuous men. And even its symbolism, with all its strange spell, seems to lack depth and warmth for human nature as a whole. It would indeed be rash to set limits to the power of pious sentiment to transfigure and vivify the most unspiritual materials. And the slaughtered bull in the apse of every chapel of Mithra may have aroused in the end visions and mystic emotion which had passed far beyond the sphere of astral symbolism.

Yet such spiritual interpretation of ancient myth is only for the few, who find in a worship what they bring. For the gross masses, the symbolism of natural processes, however majestic, could never have won that marvellous power which has made a single Divine, yet human, life the inexhaustible source of spiritual strength for all the future. With all his heroic effort to make himself a moral and spiritual force, Mithra remained inextricably linked with the nature-worships of the past. And, with such associations, even the God of light could not be lord of the spiritual future of humanity. Mithraism, with all its strange moral force, with all its charm of antiquity and sacramental rite, with all its charity and tolerance, had within it the germs of a sure mortality. In its tolerance lay precisely its great weakness. The Christian Church might, in S. Augustine’s phrase, “spoil the Egyptians,” it might borrow [pg 625]and adapt rites and symbols from pagan temples, or ideas from Greek philosophy.3213 But in borrowing, it transfigured them. In all that was essential, the Church would hold no truce with paganism. “Break the idols and consecrate the temples” was the motto of the great Pontiff. But Mithra was ready to shelter the idols under his purer faith. The images of Jupiter and Venus, of Mars and Hecate, of the local deities of Dacia and Upper Germany, find a place in his chapels beside the antique symbols of the Persian faith.3214 And thus, in spite of a lofty moral mysticism, Mithra was loaded with the heritage of the heathen past. A man admitted to his highest ministry might also worship at the old altars of Greece and Rome. The last hierophant of Eleusis was a high-priest of Mithra.3215 Human nature and religious sentiment are so complex that men of the sincere monotheistic faith of Symmachus, Praetextatus, and Macrobius, have left the almost boastful record of an all-embracing laxity of tolerance on their tombs.3216 On many of these slabs you may read that the man who has been a “father” in the mysteries of Mithra, who has been “born again” in the taurobolium, is also a priest of Hecate, the goddess of dark arts and baleful spirits of the night.3217 Through the astral fatalism of Babylon, Mithra was inseparably connected with the darkest superstitions of East or West,3218 which covered all sorts of secret crime and perfidy, which lent themselves to seduction, conspiracy, and murder, which involved the denial of a moral Providence of the world. Many a pious devotee of Mithra and Hecate would have recoiled, as much as we do, from the last results of his superstition. Such people probably wished only to gain another ally in facing the terrors of the unseen world. Yet there can be little doubt that the majestic supremacy of Mithra, through its old connection with Babylon, sheltered some of the most degrading impostures of superstition.

So rooted is religious sentiment in reverence for the past, for what our fathers have loved and venerated, that men will long tolerate, or even wistfully cherish, sacred forms and ideas which their moral sense has outgrown. Down to the last years [pg 626]of the fourth century, the Persian worship was defended with defiant zeal by members of the proudest Roman houses. In their philosophic gatherings in the reign of Honorius, they found in Sun-worship the sum and climax of the pagan devotion of the past.3219 Many a pious old priest of Mithra, in the reign of Gratian, was probably filled with wonder and sorrow when he saw a Gracchus and his retinue break into the sanctuary and tear down the venerable symbols from the wall of the apse.3220 He deemed himself the prophet of a pure immemorial faith, as pure as that of Galilee. He was probably a man of irreproachable morals, with even a certain ascetic sanctity, unspotted by the world. He treasured the secret lore of the mysterious East, which sped the departing soul with the last comforting sacraments on its flight to ethereal worlds. But he could not see, or he could not regret, that every day when he said his liturgy, as he made the round of the altars, he was lending the authority of a purer faith to other worships which had affrighted or debauched and enervated the Roman world for forty generations. He could not see that the attempt to wed a high spiritual ideal with nature-worship was doomed to failure. The masses around him remained in their grossness and darkness. And on that very day, it may be, one of his aristocratic disciples, high in the ranks of Mithra’s sacred guilds, was attending a priestly college which was charged with the guardianship of gross and savage rites running back to Evander, or he was consulting a Jewish witch, or a Babylonian diviner, on the meaning of some sinister omen, or he may have been sending down into the arena, with cold proud satisfaction, a band of gallant fighters from the Thames or the Danube, to butcher one another for the pleasure of the rabble of Rome. Mithra, the Unconquered, the god of many lands and dynasties from the dawn of history, was a fascinating power. But, at his best, he belonged to the order which was vanishing.

@34122@34122-h@34122-h.html#Pg45" class="tei tei-ref pginternal">45, 448;

93, 94;

change of the relation under the Empire, ib.;

the relation in the colleges, 273

Clients,

	position in the time of Juvenal, 93 sq.;
	and Martial, 61

Clodius, P., uses the colleges, 254

Colleges, the,

504;
	plebeian class in towns, 251;
	pride of free artisan class, 253;
	early history of Collegia, 254;
	danger from, 255;
	restrained by law, ib.;
	an irresistible movement, 256;
	wish for pious burial, 257;
	evidence on, from inscriptions, 258;
	funerary colleges authorised, 259;
	consequences of the concession, 260;
	College of Diana and Antinous, its organisation, fees, etc. 260 sqq.;
	College of Aesculapius and Hygia, its regulations, 262;
	colleges founded on religion, 263;
	industrial colleges, great fair at Cremona, 264;
	wandering traders, collegia peregrinorum, 265;
	colleges at Lyons, Ostia, Arles, etc. 265 sq.;
	objects of association, 266 sqq.;
	favoured by masters, 267;
	colleges moulded on the model of the city, names of offices, etc. 269;
	gradation of rank in, its object, 270;
	how the schola was provided, 271;
	associations gather round it, gifts made to it, 272;
	College of Silvanus at Philippi, ib.;
	patrons of, and their raison d’Être, 273;
	colleges and their patrons of very different rank, 274;
	election of a patron, ib.;
	colleges founded to guard a tomb, 276;
	reference to female Platonists, 80;
	preaching of gratitude and resignation, 393

Epicurus,

	Seneca quotes, and defends to Lucilius, 306;
	Aelian anathematises, 456;
	Epicureans at Abonoteichos oppose Alexander, 476;
	orders banquets to his shade, 456;
	influence of, in last age of Republic, 530

Epidaurus,

	temple of Asclepius at, 462, 539;
	social life of the patients, 463

Equites,

	in provincial towns, 215;
	freedmen raised to the rank of, 113;
	Juvenal’s [pg 631]contempt for, 70;
	general low estimate of, 113;
	displace freedmen as imperial secretaries, 107;
	employment by Vitellius, Domitian, Hadrian, and Antoninus Pius, ib.

Espionage,

	under the Empire, 34;
	under Domitian, 56

Euboea, D. Chrysostom’s description of rural life in, 375

Euhemerus,

	translated by Ennius, 530;
	Plutarch on, 425

Euphrates,

	Pliny’s sketch of, 151;
	suicide of, 356

Evil, Plutarch’s theory of, 430

Extravagance,

	of Nero, 20, 32;
	of Domitian, 55, 56;
	of Vitellius, 32;
	of Caligula, 32;
	under the Republic, 67

Fannia, widow of Helvidius Priscus, Pliny’s admiration for, 152

Finance, 40;

	flouts Vespasian, ib.

Herculaneum,

	temple of Magna Mater at, 548;
	frescoes of, illustrating the worship of Isis, 578

Herodes Atticus,

	gifts of, to many communities, 225 sqq.;
	friend of Demonax and Plutarch, 364, 403;
	on the uses of wealth, 232;
	claimed descent from the Aeacidae, 225

Herodotus,

	identifies Greek and Egyptian deities, 561;
	on Mithra, 589

Hesiod, on daemons, 427

Holconii, the, of Pompeii, public honours and benefactions of, 223

Horace,

	love of the country, and memories of Mount Vultur in, 196, 198;
	journey to Brundisium, 206;
	on beneficence, 190

Hortensius, Q.,

	luxury of, 71;
	poverty of his descendants, ib.

Icelus,

	raised to rank by Galba, 107;
	journey of, to Spain, 206

Immortality, ib.;

	ideas of, depend on ideas of God, 484;
	“We know not what we shall be,” 485;
	faith in the Manes, 486;
	evidence of epitaphs on, 487 sqq.;
	Lemures, 488 sq.;
	the Mundus, 489;
	mingled elements in Virgil’s Inferno, 491 sqq.;
	Roman longing for posthumous sympathy, 488;
	Orphic and Pythagorean influences on Virgil, 494;
	evidence of inscriptions on belief in, 496 sqq.;
	Epicurean negation of, 498 sq.;
	origin of the Tauroctonus group, date of the introduction of the
	cult into Europe, 590;
	Plutarch’s statement in the Life of Pompey, ib.;
	worship of, in the Flavian age, ib.;
	syncretism of, 592;
	worship of, propagated by soldiers, civil servants, etc., ib.;
	stages of its diffusion through Italy, 593;
	and north of the Alps, 594;
	progress of the worship along the Danube, 594 sqq.;
	legions which propagated it in Pannonia, 595;
	remains of, in Upper Germany, 596;
	in England, 597;
	in Gaul, ib.;
	its many attractions, ib.;
	Persian symbolism, 598;
	Babylonian elements in, astrology, 598, 602, sq.;
	relative influence of Iran and Babylon, different views of, 599;
	influence of Platonism and Pythagoreanism on, 600;
	doctrine of the soul’s descent, ib.;
	cosmic theory, doctrine of emanation, and deification of elemental powers, 601 sqq.;
	Mithra as mediator in two senses, 604 sq.;
	the Dadophori, ib., 606;
	the legend recovered from monuments, 605;
	the petra genetrix, ib.;
	symbolism of the slaughtered bull, 606;
	agape of Mithra and Sun, 607;
	various interpretations of the legend, 607;
	Mithraism a religion of combat, 608;
	its consolations, ib.;
	its eschatology, 609;
	effect of the taurobolium, ib.;
	ritual and sacraments of, 610;
	flattery of, by the Arval Brothers, 542;
	worshipped by Tiridates, 617;
	violence to Delphi, 472

Nerva,

	retrenchments of, 32;
	first provided for poor children, 192

Nicomedia, D. Chrysostom on its public vices, 373

Numa, apocryphal books of, 564

Octavia, divorced on false charge, and recalled by Nero at the bidding of the mob, 49

Oenomaus of Gadara,

	rejection of myth and oracles by, 363;
	theory of oracles, 364;
	Julian’s denunciation of, ib.

Olbia, D. Chrysostom’s visit to, 371 sq.

Oracles,

	decay of, 434;
	revival of, 386;
	theory of their inspiration, 437 sqq.;
	and of their cessation, 437, 471;
	that of Abonoteichos defers to the older, 472;
	many oracles not silenced till the reign of Constantine, 473;
	how an oracle was worked, 474;
	oracles in Boeotia, 471

Orphic mysticism, the, 427;

	influence of, on Virgil, 494;
	on Mithraism, 600;
	on belief in immortality, 516

Osterburken, remains of Mithra worship at, 596

Ostia,

	colleges at, 215;
	cult of Mithra at, 591;
	temple of Magna Mater at, ib.

Otho,

304, 319 sq.;
	extravagance of, 32;
	his belief in astrology, 45, 448;
	devotion of soldiers to, 50;
		he represents the finest moral tone of the age, 190;
	need for popular evangelism, how the Cynics supplied it, 335, 360

Socrates, theories of his daemon, 438

Sophists, the,

	influence of, 4;
	frivolous subjects and showy style of, condemned by philosophers, 344;
	Plutarch’s opinion of, 413

Sotion, trains Seneca in Pythagorean asceticism, 296

Spain,

	growth of towns in, 200;
	journey of Icelus in, to reach Galba, 206;
	little affected by Mithraism, 597;
	worship of Isis in, 567

Spectacles, the,

	Senators descend into the arena, 73;
	women present at, mingling with men at the Circus, 86;
	obscenities of the theatre, ib.;
	number of days in the year given to, 234;
	scene in Flavian Amphitheatre, 235

Spurinna, Vestricius,

	a verse writer, 166;
	his orderly life a type, 175

Statius,

	his sketches of the great imperial freedmen, 109 sqq.;
	of the villas of [pg 638]Manlius Vopiscus, and Pollius Felix, 176;
	reference to Mithra in the Thebaid, 589 sq.

Stoicism,

	the God of, 307;
	gospel of, in Seneca, 309 sq.;
	freedom and necessity, 311;
	weakness of its moral theory, 313;
	instantaneous conversion, ib.;
	no intermediate states of character, ib.;
	modifications of, 314;
	relation to Cynicism, 323, 359;
	competing tendencies in, 549;
	on the taurobolium, 555;
	holds up priests of Isis as an example, 582;
	his view of the sacraments of Mithra, 613

Theagenes,

	pupil of Peregrinus, 354;
	lectures in Rome, ib.

Theatre, the, a great corruptor, 86

Thespesius of Soli, his vision of the unseen world, 524

Thrasea, his character, compared with Paetus and Helvidius Priscus, 152

Thrasyllus, an astrologer of Tiberius, 448

Tiberius,

	conservatism of, in religion, 536;
	little sympathy with Hellenism, 88;
	cost of his gladiators, 241;
	belief in astrology, 448;
	tried the lottery at Padua, 472;
	persecutes the eastern cults, 566;
	treatment of descendants of Hortensius, 71;
	his mot on birth, 70

Timarchus, his visit to the other world, 526 sq.

Titinius Capito, writes a history of the victims of the Terror, 167

Titus,

	his love of the East and superstition, 449;
	visit to shrine of the Paphian Venus, 472

Trade,

	great fair at Cremona, 264;
	[pg 639]wandering traders, their colleges, ib.;
	immense development of, 253, 265;
	Juvenal’s contempt for, 98;
	encouragement of, by Claudius, 264

Trajan,

	provision of, for poor children, 192;
	his friendship with Dion Chrysostom, 369 sq.;
	vows of the Arval Brotherhood for, 542;
	Pliny’s Panegyric on, 43

Travel, THE END

Printed in Great Britain by R. & R. Clark, Limited, Edinburgh.

tei-notelabel">81.

Ib. c. 5.

82.

Sen. De Clem. i. 1, § 5.

83.

Suet. Nero, c. 15; cf. Dom. c. viii.

84.

Nero, c. 16.

85.

Ib. c. 12, instituit et quinquennale certamen primus omnium Romae more Graeco triplex, etc.

86.

Ib. c. 20; 53; Renan, L’AntÉchr. p. 132.

87.

Suet. Nero, c. 39.

88.

Ib. c. 50.

89.

Renan, L’AntÉchr. p. 316.

90.

Suet. Nero, c. 49; Renan, L’AntÉchr. 130. sqq.

91.

Suet. Nero, c. 24, 49, 52, 55; Tac. Ann. xiv. 16; cf. MacÉ, SuÉtone, p. 179; Boissier, L’Opp. p. 265.

92.

Suet. Nero, c. 53, c. 20, cf. c. 24.

93.

Philostr. Apoll. Tyan. iv. 36, 39; Tac. Ann. xiv. 15, 16; xv. 67, odisse coepi postquam parricida matris et uxoris, auriga et histrio et incendiarius extitisti; Suet. Nero, c. 21; D. Cass. 63. 9, 10.

94.

Suet. Nero, c. 23.

95.

Ib. c. 32.

96.

Merivale, viii. p. 70 sq.; Schiller, Gesch. der RÖm. Kaiserzeit, i. p. 467.

97.

Petron. Sat. 8, where the decay of artistic sense is traced to the grossness of evil living; at nos vino scortisque demersi ne paratas quidem artes audemus cognoscere.

98.

Suet. Nero, c. 11, 12.

99.

Tac. Ann. 15. 42.

100.

Ib. 16. 1; Suet. Nero, 31.

101.

Ib. 16, 31.

102.

Ib. c. 31; cf. Otho, 7.

103.

Suet. Nero, c. 40.

104.

Ib. c. 29 ad fin.

105.

Ib. c. 32; D. Cass. 63. 17.

106.

Suet. Nero, c. 56.

107.

Suet. Nero, c. 32; D. Cass. 63. 11.

108.

Tac. 178.

Id. Nero, 21; Philostr. Apoll. Tyan. iv. 39.

179.

Friedl. Sittengesch. i. 54.

180.

Suet. Calig. 37; Sen. Ad Helv. x.

Suet. Calig. 37.

Suet. Nero, c. 30.

Ib. c. 27.

Ib. c. 30.

Ib. c. 31; Tac. Ann. xv. 42.

186.

Suet. Otho, 5, nihilque referre, ab hoste in acie, an in foro sub creditoribus caderet.

187.

Id. Vitell. c. 13.

188.

Id. Vesp. 16; D. Cass. 66. 2, 8, 10.

189.

D. Cass. 67. 5; Suet. Dom. 12.

190.

D. Cass. 68. 2, ????????? ?? ???? ?? ?? ??????????.

191.

Capitol. M. Aurel. c. 17, in foro divi Trajani auctionem ornamentorum imperialium fecit vendiditque aurea pocula et cristallina, etc.

192.

Suet. Dom. iii.

193.

Suet. Otho, iii.; Vitell. v.; Dom. viii.; Boissier, L’Opp. p. 170.

194.

Tac. Ann. i. 72; ii. 50; xiv. 48. For a clear account of this v. Boissier, L’Opp. p. 165.

195.

Suet. Dom. x.; cf. xii. satis erat obici qualecunque factum dictumve adversus majestatem principis.

196.

Ib. xii.

197.

Tac. Ann. xi. 27; xiii. 6, in urbe sermonum avida; Hist. ii. 91; Mart. v. 20; Friedl. Sittengesch. i. p. 280.

198.

D. Cass. 52. 37.

199.

Mart x. 48, 21; cf. Friedl. Chronologie der Epigr. Mart. p. 62; Friedl. Sittengesch. i. p. 285; Epict. Diss. iv. 13, 21, 5; Aristid. Or. ix. 62.

200.

Tac. Ann. iv. 69.

201.

Philostr. Apoll. Tyan. vii. 24.

202.

Tac. Ann. i. 72, 74, Crispinus formam vitae iniit quam postea celebrem miseriae temporum et audaciae hominum fecerunt, etc.; cf. iii. 25; Sen. De Ben. iii. 26; Suet. Tib. lxi.

203.

Tac. Ann. iv. 20.

Silv. v. 1, 37; Meriv. vii. 375.

331.

Suet. Dom. v.; Gregorov. Gesch. St. Rom. i. 41.

332.

Rutil. Namat. i. 93.

333.

Suet. Dom. v. ad fin.; iv.

D. Cass. 67. 8.

Suet. Dom. xii.

Pliny, Paneg. 50.

Dion Cass. 67. 4, ??????? ?? ??? ???? ?????? ?? ??? ????? ??? ??????? ??? ???????????? ????????????: Momms. RÖm. St. ii. 1012.

338.

D. Cass. 67. 11.

339.

Agr. 45.

340.

Suet. Dom. xiv. parietes phengite lapide distinxit.

Ib. xvi.

D. Cass. 67. 9.

Ib. 67. 4.

Tacitus b. probably 55 A.D. Dial. de Or. 1, juvenis admodum in 75 or 76; cf. Agr. 9. He was betrothed in 77 A.D.; cf. Meriv. viii. 92; Peter, Gesch. Litt. ii. 43; Nipperdey, Einl. iv. Juvenal b. circ. 55 A.D. (Peter, ii. 77); decessit longo senio confectus exul Ant. Pio imp. Vit. iv.; Teuffel, § 326, 1.

345.

Nettleship, Lectures and Essays, pp. 118 sqq.

346.

Or. Henz. 5599, IIVir. Quinq. Flamen Divi Vespasiani.

347.

Boissier, L’Opp. p. 316.

348.

Juv. xi. 74, 150; cf. xiv. 322.

349.

Mart. xii. 18.

350.

Juv. v. 30 sqq.; cf. Mart. iii. 49; iii. 60.

351.

Juv. i. 52; Mart. x. 4; iv. 49.

352.

Juv. vi. 43: v. 30 sqq.; ix. 10 sqq.; xi. 186.

353.

It has been remarked that Martial’s Epigrams on Juvenal all contain some obscenity, vii. 24; vii. 91, xii. 18.

354.

Teuffel, § 326, 4; Peter, Gesch. Litt. ii. 77; Nettleship, Lectures and Essays, p. 122, brings together the indications of date from 96-127 A.D. He thinks that perhaps some of the earlier Satires belong to the last years of Domitian, and that the words, spes et ratio studiorum in Caesare tantum, in Sat. vii., may refer to that Emperor (p. 132).

355.

Juv. i. 170.

356.

Marius Priscus, Isaeus, Archigenes.

357.

See a comparison of passages in Nettleship, pp. 125 sqq.

358.

He says of himself, i. 5, 8, lasciva est nobis pagina, vita proba est; cf. iii. 68; v. 2; Ausonius urges the same plea, cf. < c">Tiberius, xxxv.

439.

Id. Calig. xviii. nec ullis nisi ex senatorio ordine aurigantibus; D. Cass. 59. 10, 13, Suet. Nero, xii.

Id. Dom. viii. vii.

Id. Nero, xx. xxi.

Juv. viii. 89, 147.

Suet. Nero, xl.; v. Krause, De Sueton. Fontibus, pp. 57, 80; Peter, Gesch. Litt. ii. 69.

444.

Tac. Ann. xv. 67.

445.

Ib. xiv. 16; cf. Suet. Nero, lii., where Suetonius distinctly says that some of Nero’s verses, which he had seen, bore all the marks of originality. Philostr. Apoll. Tyan. iv. 39; MacÉ, SuÉtone, p. 127; Boissier, L’Opp. p. 248.

446.

Suet. Nero, xxvii.

447.

Ib. xxvi.; cf. Juv. vi. 115.

Juv. viii. 172.

Suet. Nero, xxvi.

Tac. Hist. i. 88.

See some admirable criticism in Nettleship’s Lectures and Essays, 2nd series, p. 141; cf. Munding, Über die Sat. des Juv. p. 7.

452.

Duruy, v. 673; Boissier, Rel. Rom. ii. 233 sqq.

453.

Plin. Ep. iv. 19; iii. 16; iii. 3; Sen. Ad Helv. xiv. xix.; D. Cass. lxviii. 5 ad fin.

454.

Ov. Trist. iii. 3, 15—

Omnia cum subeant, vincis tamen omnia, conjux;

Et plus in nostro pectore parte tenes.

Te loquor absentem, te vox mea nominat unam:

Nulla venit sine te nox mihi, nulla dies.

455.

Id. Amor. iii. 4, 3; cf. Ars Am. ii. 599, iii. 440, 613, Denis, IdÉes Morales, ii. 124.

456.

Plut. Consol. ad Uxor. x.; Conj. Praec. iv. xliv. xlvii.

457.

A. Gell. xii. 1.

458.

Denis, ii. 134; Zeller, Die Phil. der Griech. iii. 1, p. 660.

459.

D. Chrys. Or. vii. 133.

460.

Juv. vi. 436—

Committit vates et comparat; inde Maronem,

Atque alia parte in trutina suspendit Homerum.

Cedunt grammatici, vincuntur rhetores—

461.

Juv. vi. 400 sqq.

462.

Ib. 268.

587.

Momms. R. H. ii. 374 (Tr.).

588.

Mart. iv. 5; v. 56—

Artes discere vult pecuniosas?

Fac discat citharoedus aut choraules.

Si duri puer ingeni videtur,

Praeconem facias, vel architectum;

Juv. vii. 104; x. 226; Petron. 46, destinavi illum artificii docere, aut tonstreinum aut praeconem etc.

589.

Juv. vii. 38 sqq.

590.

Mart. ii. 43; iv. 40; v. 42, quas dederis, solas semper habebis opes.

Juv. vii. 104.

Ib. vii. 180.

Ib. vii. ad fin.

Ib. vii. 121 sqq.

Juv. iii. 182; Martha, Moralistes sous l’Emp. p. 400.

596.

Mart. ii. 57.

597.

Juv. vi. 353.

598.

Petron. 116, in hac urbe nemo liberos tollit ... aut captantur aut captant.

599.

e.g. Regulus, Plin. Ep. ii. 20.

600.

Juv. xii. 100; i. 36; Mart. v. 39; Plin. Ep. ii, 20; Petron. 140.

601.

Juv. i. 112; Petron. 88, pecuniae cupiditas haec tropica instituit.

602.

Juv. iii. 164.

603.

Ib. 131, 103; i. 26; iv. 98; Mart. ii. 29, iii. 29; v. 13, 35.

604.

Suet. Octav. xliii.-v.; Calig. xviii.; Claud. xxi; Nero, xi. xii.; Titus, vii.; Dom. iv.; D. Cass. 65. 25; Spart. Hadr. vii. D. Cass. 68. 10, 15; Capitol. M. Anton. vi.; but cp. Suet. Tib. xlvii.; Tac. Hist. ii 62, D. Cass. 66. 15; Suet. Octav. xliv.; D. Cass. 54. 2; 68. 2; Capitol. Anton. P. xii.

605.

Victor. Epit. 12; Spart. Hadr. vii. § 12; Capitol. M. Anton. xxvi.; Ant. P. viii.; D. Cass. 68. 5; Orelli Henz. 4365, 7244; FriedlÄnder, Petron. Einleit. 49; Duruy, v. 429; iv. 787; Boissier, Rel. Rom. ii. 208; cf. Plin. Ep. ix. 30.

606.

Tac. Ann. xiv. 62; ii. 47, 48.

607.

Salv. De Gub. Dei, v. 30; Ad Eccles. iv. 22.

608.

On the Augustales v. Orell. Henz. ii. p. 197; iii. p. 427; FriedlÄnder, Cena Trim. Einl. p. 39; Marq. RÖm. Staatsverw. i. 513 sqq.; Nessling, De Seviris Augustalibus.

609.

v. 13, 6, et libertinas arca flagellat opes; cf. Sen. Ep. 27, § 5, patrimonium libertini.

687.

Suet. Galba, xiv.; Tac. Hist. ii. 57; iv. 39.

688.

Mart. iii. 29; v. 8, 14, 35, 23; cf. Friedl. Sittengesch. i. 212.

689.

Suet. Claud. c. xxviii.

690.

Dig. xxiii. 2, 44.

691.

Statius, iii. 3, 115.

692.

Id. v. 1, 53; Tac. Hist. v. 9; Suet. Claud. xxviii. Felicem ... Judaeae proposuit—trium reginarum maritum.

693.

Catull. x. 26; Tibull. i. 3, 33; Ov. Ars Am. iii. 635; cf. Amor. i. 8, 73; iii. 9, 33.

694.

Tac. Ann. xi. 29.

695.

Ib. xiii. 12, 46; xiv. 2; Suet. Nero, xxviii. Acten libertam paullum abfuit quin justo matrimonio sibi conjungeret.

696.

Suet. Nero, l.

697.

D. Cass. lxvi. 14.

698.

Luc. Imag. 10. See Croiset’s Lucien, p. 273, on the Imagines as illustrating Lucian’s power as a critic of art.

699.

Xen. Mem. iii. 11; Plat. Menex. c. iv.

700.

Cf. Friedl. Sittengesch. i. 82.

701.

Suet. De Ill. Gram. xxi.

702.

Marq. Priv. i. 189; Denis, IdÉes Morales, ii. 208; Spart. Hadr. xvii.

703.

Sen. De Ben. iii. 21; Ep. 47; Plin. Ep. ii. 17, 9; viii. 16; cf. Marq. Priv. i. 175.

Or. 2808.

Ib. 2874.

Ib. 2816.

Ib. 2862.

Sen. De Clem. i. 18.

Marq. Priv. i. 174.

Sen. Ep. 80, § 4, peculium suum quod comparaverunt ventre fraudato pro capite numerant.

711.

Apul. Met. x. 14; cf. Boissier, Rel. Rom. ii. 397.

712.

v. 22, 10, negat lasso janitor esse domi; Sen. Nec. Inj. xiv. cubicularii supercilium.

713.

Momms. R. H. ii. 380 (Tr.)

714.

Marq. 827.

Pliny is pleased with the virtuous monotony, Ep. iii lic">Ep. v. 85. Seeck, Prol. xlv.

921.

Momms. Plin. (Tr.) p. 2; cf. Haenny, Schriftsteller, etc. p. 19.

922.

Plin. Ep. i. 1; vii. 28; i. 15; viii. 1; MacÉ, SuÉtone, p. 87.

923.

Momms. Plin. p. 4.

924.

Ib. pp. 7, 24; Teuffel, § 335, 1.

925.

Plin. Ep. iii. 18, 5; viii. 12, literarum senescentium reductor; Stat. Silv. i. Prooem.; Petron. 88; cf. Sidon. Apoll. Ep. viii. 8; ii. 14; vii. 15; ii. 10, 1.

926.

Plin. Ep. vi. 17, § 5.

927.

Ib. vii. 17; v. 12.

928.

Ib. vii. 20; viii. 7.

929.

Ib. vii. 20; ix. 23, ad hoc illum “Tacitus es an Plinius?”

930.

Ib. vi. 16, 2.

931.

Ib. iii. 21, 6, at non erunt aeterna quae scripsit; non erunt fortasse; ille tamen scripsit tanquam essent futura.

932.

Ib. iii. 7, scribebat carmina majore cura quam ingenio.

933.

Mart. vii. 63; Tac. Hist. iii. 65.

934.

v. Teuffel, R. Lit. § 315, n. 5, and the opinions collected by Mayor, Plin. iii. p. 120.

935.

Plin. Ep. iii. 7, 3.

936.

v. Mayor, Plin. iii. p. 114, for a learned note on suicide in the early Empire.

937.

Pliny, Ep. iv. 23, 3. For a similar ideal in the fifth century, v. Roman Society in the Last Century of the Western Empire, p. 165 (1st ed.).

938.

Plin. Ep. v. 8, § 1.

939.

For a good example cf. Plin. Ep. iii. 15.

940.

Capitol. Ant. P. 1.

941.

Plin. Ep. iv. 3.

942.

Ib. iv. 18; cf. viii. 4.

943.

Tac. Hist. ii. 11; ii. 18, 36; Plin. Ep. i. 5; ii. 7; iii. 1, scribit et quidem utraqua lingua, lyra doctissima. Spurinna was 77, at the date of this letter, A.D. 101-102; Momms. p. 11.

944.

Plin. Ep. iv. 27; cf. ix. 8.

945.

Ib. vi. 15; ix. 22.

946.

Plin. Ib. i. 12, 10. It is characteristic of the time that his last word was ???????.

1057.

Ib. vi. 24.

1058.

Pliny boasts of idealising his friends; vii. 28, agnosco crimen.... Ut enim non sint tales quales a me praedicantur, ego tamen beatus quod mihi videntur.

1059.

Plin. Ep. viii. 18; iv. 21; viii. 10, 11, neque enim ardentius tu pronepotes quam ego liberos cupio; cf. iv. 15, 3, fecunditate uxoris frui voluit eo saeculo quo plerisque etiam singulos filios orbitatis praemia graves faciunt.

1060.

Ib. iii. 3, in hac licentia temporum.

1061.

Ib. iv. 25, proximis comitiis in quibusdam tabellis multa jocularia atque etiam foeda dictu ... inventa sunt.

1062.

Ib. viii. 23, 3, ipsi sibi exempla sunt.

1063.

Ib. vii. 24, she was born about A.D. 27, in the reign of Tiberius. Ummidia had the virtue of liberality; she built an amphitheatre and temple for Casinum, Or. Henz. 781.

1064.

Plin. Ep. vii. 28, 2.

1065.

Cf. Ep. v. 14, on his relations with Cornutus Tertullus: quae societas amicitiarum artissima nos familiaritate conjunxit.

1066.

Plin. Ep. vi. 6; vi. 32; in which he offers a dowry to Quintilian’s daughter in the most delicate way; cf. Juv. iii. 215; xv. 150; Sen. De Benef. ii. 21, 5; iv. 11, 3; Tac. Ann. iv. 62; yet cf. the judgment of D. Chrys. Or. vii. § 82; Denis, IdÉes Morales, ii. 175 sqq.

1067.

Plin. Ep. viii. 23, 2; vi. 11, 3; i. 12, 12; ii. 1, 8 (of Verginius Rufus), sic candidatum me suffragio ornavit, etc., iii. 1, 6 (of Spurinna), quibus praeceptis imbuare!

1068.

Plin. Ad Traj. 87, 94.

Id. Ep. vi. 29.

Ib. iii. 3.

Plin. Ep. vi. 11.

Ib. vi. 26.

Ib. iv. 15. Fundanus’s consulship is mentioned in two inscriptions, Or. 1588, 2471. There is a difficulty about the dates which is discussed in Momms. Plin. p. 17, n. 3. Fundanus does not appear in the Fasti.

1074.

Sen. Ad Marc. xiii. xiv.; Ad Helv. xvi.

1075.

Ad Marc. xvi. par illis, mihi crede, vigor, etc. Ad Helv. xvii. 4, cf. Plut. Conj. Praec. xlviii. ???????? ?????? ?? ??????????? (? ????) ???? ???????? ????????? ??????, ???.; cf. Juv. vi. 450; Mart. vii. 69.

1076.

Plin. Ep. iv. 19, § 4.

1077.

Plin. Ep. v. 16.

1078.

Seneca and Paulina, Tac. Ann. xv. 64; Plutarch, Ad Uxorem, iv. v.

1079.

Vit. Soph. ii. 3.

1144.

Arnold, p. 205; Marq. i. 199.

1145.

Tac. Ann. iv. 55; Strab. xii. 578.

1146.

H. N. v. 60; Friedl. SG. iii. 110.

1147.

Aristid. Or. xiv. 223 (392), ????? ???????????? ??? ???????? ??????? ?????????.

1148.

Cf. Victor, Vit. i. 7; v. 9; Friedl. SG. iii. 110; v. Migne, Patrol. Lat. t. lviii. 270, notitia Africae.

1149.

C.I.L. viii. 2355; Cagnat, L’ArmÉe Rom. d’Afrique, p. 582; Boissier, L’Afr. Rom. p. 180.

1150.

Or. Henz. 5326.

1151.

Boissier, L’Afr. Rom. p. 187.

1152.

C.I.L. viii. 2388; Hieron. Ep. 107, § 1; Macrob. Sat. i, 2, 15.

1153.

C.I.L. viii. 2403; Suppl. ii. 17903; Suppl. i. 12058. This inscription, from an obscure place, shows how an original honorarium of HS. 1600 was finally increased by voluntary generosity to HS. 12,000.

1154.

Ib. 2341, 17838.

1155.

C.I.L. viii.; Suppl. ii. 17831.

1156.

Marq. RÖm. St. i. 45; Bury, Rom. Emp. p. 77; Arnold, Rom. Prov. Admin. p. 210.

1157.

Or. Henz. 3720, 3800, 3801, 3056, 3057, 3804.

1158.

Tac. Ann. i. 15; Momms. RÖm. St. ii. 1002; Duruy, v. pp. 336-346; GrÉard, Plut. 221, 237; Plut. Reip. Ger. Pr. c. 17, 19. The first curatores civitatum are heard of in the reigns of Nerva and Trajan; cf. Marq. i. 510, n. 10.

1159.

Suet. Tib. 32; Tac. Ann. iv. 6; Suet. Nero, x.; Otho, iii. provinciam administravit moderatione singulari; Vitell. v. Vespasian had to increase burdens, Suet. xvi.; Tac. Hist. ii. 84; as to Trajan, cf. Plin. Paneg. 20; Suet. Dom. 8. Nero, it is true, is said to have encouraged plunder (Suet. Nero, 32; Plin. H. N. 18, 6). Yet the general prosperity was undisturbed, Boissier, L’Opp. 170; Arnold, Rom. Prov. Admin. 135; GrÉard, Plut. 199.

1160.

See a crowd of inscriptions to Domitian and Commodus in remote places in Africa; cf. C.I.L. viii. 1016, 1019; 10570, 8702, in which Commodus is described as indulgentissimus princeps, etc.

1161.

Marq. RÖm. St. i. 517 sq.; Arnold, p. 212.

1162.

Henz. iii. Ind. p. 156; Inscr. 2322, 6980, 4983; Marq. n. l.c.

1287.

D. Chrys. Or. 46 (519).

1288.

Tac. Hist. iii. 34, reposita fora templaque munificentia municipum.

1289.

Philostr. Vit. Soph. ii. 1; Friedl. Sittengesch. ii. p. 120.

1290.

Philostr. Vit. Soph. ii. 5.

1291.

Ib. ii. 6.

1292.

Philostr. Vit. Soph. ii. 3.

1293.

C. Theod. ix. 17, 5; Nov. Valent. 5.

1294.

Or. Henz. 6993, 7013, 7190, 6622, 2287, 6985, 3325.

Ib. 6994.

Ib. 6983.

Or. Henz. 7013.

C.I.L. viii. 5366; she received the honour of five statues in return.

Or. Henz. 2287.

Ib. 3325.

Ib. 3772.

Boissier, L’Opp. p. 44.

1303.

See Rom. Soc. in the Last Century of the Western Empire (1st ed.), p. 202.

1304.

Suet. Nero, xvi.

1305.

Suet. Vesp. ix.; D. Cass. lxvi. 10.

1306.

Suet. Tit. vii. nemine ante se munificentia minor.

1307.

Suet. Domit. v.

1308.

Plin. Paneg. 51.

1309.

D. Cass. lxviii. 7, 15; Plin. Paneg. 29, 51.

1310.

Ael. Spart. Hadr. c. 29.

1311.

Ib. c. 19, § 10, eaque omnia propriis auctorum nominibus consecravit.

1312.

On the sportula at this time, cf. Suet. Nero, xvi., Dom. vii.; Marq. Pr. i., 207 sq.; Momms. De Coll. p. 109.

1313.

Plut. Caes. 55, ???????? ??? ?? ?????????? ??? ?????????? ?????????? ???? ?????????: D. Cass. 43, 21, 3.

1314.

Plin. Ep. i. 3, triclinia illa popularia.

1315.

1391.

Juv. iii. 158.

1392.

C.I.L. x. 1074.

1393.

Or. Henz. 3721.

1394.

Ib. 7008, 7010; cf. 7082, where a youth of twenty had been iivir quinquennalis, and had given a gladiatorial show. Cf. 3714, quaestor designatus est annorum xxiiii., 3745, 3246, 3768.

1395.

Ib. 3764.

1396.

Ib. 3773, 4036, 82, 5134; cf. 3744.

1397.

Or. Henz. 3709, 3750; C.I.L. xii. 3203, 3219.

1398.

Plut. Reipubl. Ger. Pr. c. 27.

1399.

Or. Henz. 6992.

1400.

Ib. 3811, 3722, 6999, 7007, 7004 (honore usus inpensam remisit), 7011, 7190, 4100.

1401.

Ib. 3865, ex aere collato; 6996.

1402.

This seems clear from Plut. Reip. Ger. Pr. c. 31, ??? ?? ???????????? ??????? ??? ??? ???????????? ????? ???? ??? ???????????.

1403.

Plut. Reip. Ger. Pr. c. 18; cf. c. 10.

1404.

Plin. Ep. x. 113; 79.

1405.

Plut. Reip. Ger. Pr. c. 18.

1406.

Philostr. Apoll. T. iv. 5.

1407.

Plut. Reip. Ger. Pr. c. 32; cf. GrÉard, Morale de Plut. p. 230.

1408.

Philostr. Apoll. T. v. 41, 10; cf. GrÉard, p. 227.

1409.

Plut. Reip. Ger. Pr. c. 15.

1410.

Ib. c. 27, 29, 30, 20.

1411.

Or. Henz. 4007 (Canusium), 2391 (Praeneste), 4491 (Pisa), 3898 (Bergamum), 3787 (Caere). For places out of Italy, cf. C.I.L. xii. 3212 (datus a Trajano); viii. 2403, 2660 (Timgad and Lambesi); iii. 3485 (Aquincum); ii. 484 (Emerita); 4112 (Tarraco); cf. x.; ii. p. 1158; Capitol. M. Ant. c. 11.

1412.

Or. Henz. 3787, placuit tibi scribi an in hoc quoque et tu consensurus esses.

1413.

A.D. 113, as the names of the consuls show.

1414.

See Roman Society in the Last Century of the Western Empire, p. 208 sqq. (1st ed.).

1415.

M. Aurel. vi. 46; vii. 3; ix. 30.

1416.

Or. Henz. Ind. 151; C.I.L. xii. p. 940; Or. Henz. 3763, 7170 (consensus plebis); C.I.L. xii. 3185 (ex postulatione populi); x. 5067, 1030, 8215, 3704.

1417.

Tac. Ann. xiii. 48; Hi (i.e. plebs) magistratuum et primi cujusque avaritiam increpantes.

Ib. 7215 (A.D. 149).

1542.

Macrob. Sat. iii. 13, 11-13.

1543.

Boissier, Rel. Rom. ii. 319; Marq. Pr. i. 208; Hor. Ep. i. 14, 21.

1544.

Momms. De Colleg. p. 109; cf. Or. 2385 (panem vinum et sportulas dedit), 3949.

1545.

Or. Henz. 2417.

1546.

Fl. Apolloni Proc. Aug. qui fuit a pinacothecis.... Optimi piissimi, etc.

1547.

Or. Henz. 6086, quisquis ex hoc collegio servus defunctus fuerit, etc.; cf. the composition of the club in Or. 2394.

1548.

Ib. ut quieti et hilares diebus solemnibus epulemur, etc.

1549.

Or. Henz. 4107.

1550.

S. Paul. Nol. Carm. xxvii. 547-585; S. Aug. Ep. 32; Serm. v.

1551.

De Coll. p. 3.

1552.

Or. Henz. 2417, 4055, 2392, 3774, 3815, 1485, 4134.

1553.

Ib. 2417, Item viii K. Mart. die Karae cognationis eodem loco dividerent sportulas, etc.

1554.

Or. Henz. 2399, 4073, 4093.

1555.

C.I.L. i. 1406; ii. 5927.

1556.

Momms. De Coll. p. 102; Plin. Ep. viii. 16.

1557.

For the contempt for slaves in the fourth and fifth centuries, v. S. Hieron. Ep. 54, § 5; Salv. De Gub. Dei, iv. 26. For humaner sentiment, cf. Macrob. Sat. i. 11, 12 sqq.; C. Theod. ix. 6, 2, 3, vii. 13, 8; ix. 7, 4; ix. 9, 1; ix. 12, 1.

1558.

Plin. Ep. viii. 16, § 1; on the more humane feeling to slaves, cf. Sen. Ep. 47; De Ira, iii. 24, 32; De Clem. i. 18; De Ben. iii. 18, 19, 20; Juv. xiv. 16; Spart. Hadr. c. 18; Wallon, L’Esclav. i. c. 11; Marq. Pr. i. 177.

1559.

Cagnat, L’ArmÉe Rom. pp. 457 sqq.

1560.

Veget. ii. 20.

1561.

D. Cass. 65. 22; Capitol. M. Ant. c. 7; D. Cass. 73. 8; Cagnat, p. 459; Marq. RÖm. St. ii. pp. 136, 543.

1562.

Cf. Marcian ap. Momms. De Coll. p. 87, neve milites collegia in castris habeant.

1563.

Cagnat, p. 463.

1564.

C.I.L. viii. 2552-7.

1565.

Cagnat, pp. 467, 540; cf. Boissier, 1628.

Ib. 71, § 6, erige te et relinque istum ludum literarium philosophorum qui rem magnificam ad syllabas vocant, etc.

1629.

Teuffel, ii. § 284, n. 6; cf. Zeller, Phil. der Griech. iii. 1, p. 623.

1630.

Zeller, iii. 1, p. 56.

1631.

Ep. 117, § 19; Nat. Quaest. Prol.; Ep. 65, § 15; cf. Zeller, iii. 1. 622.

1632.

Nat. Quaest. v. 15; cf. Ep. 88, § 15.

1633.

Nat. Quaest. Prol. § 11, formicarum iste discursus est in augusto laborantium.... Punctum est istud in quo navigatis, in quo bellatis; Sursum ingentia spatia sunt, etc.; cf. Macrob. Som. Scip. i. 16, § 6.

1634.

Sen. Ep. 73, § 13, sic deus non vincit sapientem felicitate etiamsi vincit aetate.

1635.

Cf. Pl. Phaed. 79 D; Arist. Eth. ix 8, § 7.

1636.

Ep. 102, § 26, dies iste, quem tanquam extremum reformidas, aeterni natalis est ... discutietur ista caligo et lux undique clara percutiet ... nulla serenum umbra turbabit. Cf. De Imit. iii. 48, § 1, O supernae civitatis mansio beatissima! O dies aeternitatis clarissima, quam nox non obscurat, sed summa Veritas semper irradiat! Lucet quidem Sanctis perpetua claritate splendida, sed non nisi a longe et per speculum peregrinantibus in terra.

1637.

Nat. Quaest. iii. Praef., non praeterit me quam magnarum rerum fundamenta ponam senex.

1638.

Ib. ii. 59, § 2.

1639.

Ib. iii, § 18.

1640.

Ib. i. 17, § 8, An tu existimas auro inditum habuisse Scipionis filias speculum cum illis dos fuisset aes grave?

1641.

Nat. Quaest. ii. 59, § 3.

Ib. iii. 1, § 1.

Ib. vi. 32.

Ib. vii. 30, § 1.

Ib. vii. 30, § 3, quam multa praeter hos per secretum eunt nunquam humanis oculis orientia?

1646.

Ib. § 5, multa venientis aevi populus ignota nobis sciet, multa saeculis tunc futuris, cum memoria nostra exoleverit, reservantur.

1647.

Ib. vii. 31.

1648.

De Benef. i. 10.

1649.

Sen. De Ira, ii. 8, 9; Ad Marc. ii. 11, 17, 20; Tac. Hist. ii. 37; Petron. Sat. 88; M. Aurel. v. 33; v. 10.

1650.

Sen. Ep. 77, § 6; 24, § 25; 89, § 21; 95, § 16; De Tranq. c. i.

1651.

Ep. 48, § 8.

1652.

Ep. 71, § 27; 94, § 50; 1753.

Ep. 109, § 3 sqq.

1754.

Epict. Diss. iii. 22, § 69.

1755.

Epict. Diss. i. 9, § 1 sqq. ? ?? ??? ?????????, ???????? ???? ??? ?????????, ??????? ????, ?????? ??? ???????? ? ?????????, ???’ ??? ??????.

1756.

M. Aurel. iii. 11; vi. 44, ????? ??? ?????? ?? ??? ???????? ??? ? ????, ?? ?? ??????? ? ??????.

1757.

Sen. Ep. 95, § 52; cf. M. Aurel. iv. 4, ? ?????? ?????? ????? ????: Epict. Diss. i. 13, § 3; Cic. De Leg. i. 7, 23, ut jam universus hic mundus una civitas sit communis deorum atque hominum existimanda.

1758.

Sen. Ep. 47, § 2, alteri vivas oportet, si vis tibi vivere; Ep. 55, non sibi vivit qui nemini.

1759.

De Otio, iii. § 5.

1760.

De Benef. iv. 18, § 2, nudum et infirmum societas munit.

1761.

De Ira, i. 5, § 2.

1762.

De Ira, ii. 10, § 5 sqq.

1763.

Ib. ii. 8 and 9; Ep. 90, § 9 sqq.; N. Quaest. v. 15.

1764.

Ib. ii. 10, §§ 6-8.

1765.

De Clem. i. 6, § 3, peccavimus omnes.

1766.

De Ira, ii. 28, § 8, aliena vitia in oculis habemus, a tergo nostra sunt.

1767.

De Ben. iv. 4 and 5; iv. 28; De Ira, iii. 26.

1768.

De Ira, ii. 28.

1769.

Ib. iii. 5, ingens animus et verus aestimator sui non vindicat injuriam quia non sentit.... Ultio doloris confessio est.

1770.

Ib. iii. 6.

1771.

Ep. 65, § 24; Ad Helv. viii. § 3; Ep. 41, § 2; De Ben. iv. 4 and 7; Ep. 10, § 5, sic vive tamquam deus videat; Siedler, De Sen. Phil. Mor. p. 14; Burgmann, Seneca’s Theologie, p. 32.

1772.

De Prov. vi. § 6, hoc est quo deum antecedatis.

1773.

De Ira, iii. 26; De Ben. i. 10.

1774.

De Ben. vii. 28, § 2.

1775.

De Ira, iii. 26; ii. 28; ii. 31.

1776.

De Ben. iii. 28, unus omnium parens mundus est. Cf. Ep. 47; De IraVit. Soph. i. 7.

1836.

Epict. iii. 23, ???’ ????????? ??? ???? ??? ??? ??? ?????????. Plut. De Recta Rat. Aud. c. viii.; cf. Hatch, Hibbert Lec. p. 95.

1837.

Plin. Ep. i. 10.

1838.

Epict. iii. 21; ii. 1; ii. 23; Sen. Ep. 108, § 6.

1839.

A. Gell. v. 1, 2, tum scias neque illi philosophum loqui sed tibicinem canere. Philostr. Vit. Soph. iii. 3, ??????? ?? ????????????? ????? ??? ????? ????????? ?? ??? ?????. D. Chrys. Or. xxxv. §§ 7, 8.

1840.

For a comparative estimate see Capes, Univ. Life in Ancient Athens, p. 90; Hatch, Hibbert Lec. p. 105.

1841.

Philostr. Apoll. Tyan. iv. 3; iv. 42; D. Chrys. xxxiii. § 28; xxxiv. § 4; xl. § 31.

1842.

Cf. A. Gell. xii. 1, nihil, inquit, dubito quin filium lacte suo nutritura sit.

1843.

Philostr. Apoll. Tyan. iii. 41 sqq.; iv. 24; iv. 18, 20; i. 11; i. 31.

1844.

Ib. iv. 13, 16, 19, 20, 33; vi. 40.

1845.

Philostr. Apoll. Tyan. v. 25, ?? ?? ??? ?????? ???? ??? ????? ??????, ??? ?????? ?? ??????, ???.

Ib. iv. 3.

Ib. iv. 8.

Ib. iv. 31.

Ib. iv. 41.

Ib. i. 11; iv. 40, ??? ???????, ? ???? ?????? ??? ?? ??????????.

1851.

Diog. Laert. iv. 3, 1, ??? ???? ... ?????? ??? ????????????? ??? ??? ??????????? ??? ?????? ???.: Epict. iii. 1, § 14; Hor. Sat. ii. 3, 253, quaero, faciasne, quod olim Mutatus Polemon? Cf. the conversion of Isaeus, Philostr. Vit. Soph. i. 217.

1852.

Philostr. Apoll. Tyan. iv. 20; cf. i. 13.

1853.

Ib. vii. 16; cf. Tac. Ann. xv. 71; D. Cass. lxii. 27.

1854.

Tac. Ann. xv. 71; xiv. 59; Epict. i. 1, 27. The Rufus is Musonius Rufus.

1855.

D. Cass. lxvi. 13, ?????? ???? ?????????? ? ???????????? ???? ??? ????????? ?? ??? ????? ???????.

1856.

Zeller. Phil. der Griech. iii. 1, pp. 651-658.

1857.

Tac. Hist. iii. 81.

1858.

Max. Tyr. v. viii. §§ 3, 10; xi.; xiv. § 8; xvii. For the little known of him, v. Zeller, Phil. der Griech. iii. 2. p. 182, n. 3.

1859.

D. Chrys. Or. xxxii. § 9, Vit. Soph. i. p. 218; Apoll. Tyan. i. 13; iv. 20; Epict. iii. 1; Diog. Laert. iv. 3, § 1.

1967.

D. Chrys. Or. xxxvii. § 25; iv. § 1; vi.

1968.

Or. liv.; xiii. § 13, 14, ?????? ??? ??????? ?? ??? ???? ????? ??????? ????????? ??? ????? ????????? ???.: cf. xviii. § 14, ?????? ??????? ???? ??? ?????????????? ???? ????? ????? ???????.

1969.

D. Chrys. Or. lxx. § 1, 7; ??????? ???? ????? ??? ??? ?????????????, ????? ?? ??? ?????? ????????; cf. xiii. § 33.

1970.

Ib. xiii. § 28; xxiii. § 7, ?????? ??? ??????? ?????? ???????? ??? ??????? ??? ??? ???????? ??? ????????; cf. Epict. i. § 14, ????????? ?????? ?????????, ??? ??????? ??????? ???. M. Aurel. v. 27.

1971.

D. Chrys. Or. xxxii. § 9; xxxv. § 2, 3; xxxiv. § 2.

1972.

Or. xvi. § 2, 3; xxxv. § 8; cf. xiii. § 11, ?? ??? ??? ?????? ??? ?????????? ????????? ?????? ?????????????? ???.

1973.

Or. xiii. § 13, 34, ??????? ?? ??? ?????? ???????, ????????? ?????? ?? ????? ??? ???? ?? ????, ???? ?? ??????? ??? ????? ??? ??????? ????? ?????? ???.

1974.

Or. xxxiii. § 17, 23, 32; cf. the ghastly exposure in Or. vii. § 133.

1975.

Or. xxxiii. §§ 24-28, ?? ??? ????????? ?????? ???? ??????? ?????? ??????, ????? ???? ??? ????? ??????? ????? ?????????????? ?? ?? ????. Cf. xiii. §§ 33, 34.

1976.

A good example is the opening of Or. xxxii.

1977.

Or. xiv. § 2; xiii. § 13, ??????? ?? ??? ?????? ???????, ???.: cf. Zeller, Phil. der Gr. iii. 1, p. 730, er zeigt mit den Stoikern, dass die wahre Freiheit mit der VernÜnftigkeit, die Sklaverei mit der Unvernunft zusammenfalle; cf. Or. xvi. § 4.

1978.

Or. xvii. 2, 3.

1979.

Or. xx. § 8, ?? ??? ???????? ??? ????????????? ????? ? ??? ????? ?????????? ???. Hatch, Hib. Lec. p. 150.

1980.

Plin. Ep. x. 17, 23, 24, 58; Bury, Rom. Emp. p. 439.

1981.

D. Chrys. Or. xxxiv. § 10, 14, 48; xxxviii. § 11; xxxiv. § 16, 19, 29, 31.

1982.

Ib. xxxvi.

1983.

D. Chrys. Or. xxxvi. § 15, 8, 9, ?????? ?? ???????????? ???? ??? ??????? ???????????? ???. Cf. § 20, 23.

1984.

Momms. Rom. Prov. i. pp. 326, 354; cf. Aristid. Or. xiv. xv. 223-230 (Dind.).

1985.

Momms. Rom. Prov. i. p. 362; cf. Philostr. Apoll. Tyan. i. 7; Vit. Soph. i. p. 220, ??? ??????????? ??? ???? ??? ?????????? ????????? ?? ???????? ?? ???? ??????????? ?????? ???.

2048.

C.I.L. xii. 3070, 4316; viii. 9195; viii. 4578, Jovi, Junoni, Minervae, Soli Mithrae, Herculi, Marti, Genio loci, Diis, Deabus 17; ?????? ????????.

2168.

De Fort. c. iii. iv.

2169.

GrÉard, p. 68 sq.

2170.

Plut. De Rect. Rat. Aud. c. vi. ??? ??? ????????? ??? ???????? ????? ??? ????? ????? ??’ ???????? ????? ??? ?????? ??????? ????????????? ???.: cf. viii. ???’ ??? ???????????? ??????? ?? ???? ??? ???? ???????????????: c. xii.

2171.

Ib. c. vii. viii.; cf. Sen. Ep. 108, § 6, magnam hanc auditorum partem videbis cui philosophi schola diversorium otii sit, etc.; Epict. Diss. ii. 23.

2172.

De Rect. Rat. Aud. c. ix. ?????? ???? ?? ????????? ????? ????????? ?? ?? ?? ??????? ?? ??? ??????? ???????? ? ?????????????.

2173.

Ib. c. xii.

2174.

De Cohib. Ira, c. i. ?? ?? ??????? ?????? ??? ???????? ???? ????? ?????? ??? ????? ???? ??? ????????? ?? ??????? ??????????? ????????? ???? ??? ????? ?????? ???.

2175.

De Rect. Rat. Aud. c. xii.; cf. De Prof. c. xv. ???????? ??? ???????? ???? ????? ??????? ? ???????????? ??? ??????????? ?? ?’ ?? ??????? ?? ????? ?????? ???.

2176.

Trench, Plut. p. 33.

2177.

De Tranq. c. xvi. xvii. xiv. xv.

2178.

Ib. c. xix. ?????????? ???? ???? ???? ??????? ?????? ?? ??????? ??? ???????? ???? ??? ????? ???????? ???? ??????? ???????????.

2179.

Plut. De Tranq. c. xi. xiii. xiv. ??? ??????? ?? ????? ?? ??? ???????? ??? ??? ????????? ???? ??????.

2180.

De Prof. c. xiv. ?????? ?? ????? ????? ??? ? ???? ?? ??????????? ????? ??? ?? ?????? ????? ?????????, ? ??????????, ???.

2181.

Ib. c. i.-iv.

2182.

Ib. c. x. ? ?? ???? ????????? ??? ??? ???? ???? ???? ????????? ???????????, ????? ??? ?? ???? ???????? ????????? ???.

2183.

Ib. c. xvii.

2184.

Ib. c. xv.; cf. Sen. Ep. 11, § 8; aliquis vir bonus nobis eligendus est ... ut sic tanquam illo spectante vivamus, et omnia tanquam illo vidente faciamus.

2185.

Plut. (?) Consol. ad Apoll. c. vi. vii. sqq.

2186.

M. Aurel. vii. 1; vii. 19; vi. 15; ?? ?? ????? ?? ?????? ?? ?? ??? ?????? ??????????? ??????????? ??’ ?? ?????? ??? ???????: ix. 32; cf. Consol. ad Apoll. c. x. ??? ? ????? ??????????, ????? ?’ ??? ??? ??? ????????.

2187.

Consol. ad Apoll. c. xvii. ?? ?? ???? ??????? ? ?????? ????? ????????? ????? ???? ??? ??????? ???????? ?????.

2188.

Ib. c. xiv.

2189.

?????? ?? ????? ??????? ??? ?? ????????, ??? ??????? ????? ??? ?????, ????? ?????? ??? ?????, ??? ????? ?????: cf. Hatch, Hibbert Lec. p. 218.

2245.

De Is. c. xxvi. ?? ??? ???????? ?????? ??? ???????? ????? ??????? ??? ??????????: De Def. Or. c. x., c. xvi.

2246.

De Is. c. xxv.

2247.

Mr. Oakesmith thinks that Plutarch tended to identify them, Rel. of Plut. p. 127.

2248.

Tatian, Adv. Gr. 20; Clem. Alex. Ad Gent. 26; Cypr. Ep. 75, 10; Min. Felix, c. 26, 27, isti igitur impuri spiritus daemones, ... sub statuis et imaginibus delitescunt, et adflatu suo auctoritatem quasi praesentis numinis consequuntur, dum inspirant interim vates, dum fanis immorantur ... sortes regunt, oracula efficiunt, falsis pluribus involuta, etc. Cf. Tertull. Apol. c. xxii. operatio eorum est hominis eversio.... Itaque corporibus quidem et valitudines infligunt et aliquos casus acerbos, etc. Cf. De Idol. c. ix; Maury, La Magie, p. 99 sqq.

2249.

Aug. De Civ. Dei, viii. 14-22.

2250.

Cic. De Div. ii. 57, 117, cur isto modo jam oracula Delphis non eduntur ... ut nihil possit esse contemptius? Strab. vii. 7, 9, ????????? ?? ??? ??? ?? ???????? ?? ?? ?????? ??????? ?????.

2251.

Herodot. viii. 134.

2252.

Plut. De Def. Or. c. v. viii.

2253.

D. Cass. lxiii. 14, ??? ?? ???????? ?????????, ????????? ?? ?? ???????, ?? ?? ?? ????? ?????? ?????, ??????.

2254.

Plut. De Def. Or. c. ii.

2255.

De Pyth. Or. c. xxix.; v. GrÉard, p. 252.

2256.

De Pyth. Or. c. x. ????? ?? ?????? ????? ??? ?????????? ?????? ... ??? ??????????? ???????? ???????? ? ????, ???.

De Pyth. Or. c. xi.

Ib. c. v. xvii.

Ib. c. xix.

Ib. c. xxiii.

Ib. c. xxiv.

Ib. xxii. ???????? ?? ????? ??????? ??????? ???.

2263.

De Pyth. Or. c. xxv. ???????? ?????? ????????? ????????? ??????? ?? ????????? ??? ???????? ??? ???? ?? ?????? ??? ???????? ????????? ??? ?????????? ????? ???.

2264.

De Def. Or. c. viii.

2265.

Ib. c. ix. ?????? ??? ?????? ?? ??????? ??? ???? ????? ... ?????????? ??? ?? ?????? ??? ???????? ?????????????; c. xlviii.; De Pyth. Or. c. xxi.

2266.

De Def. Or. xlii. ????? ?? ???????? ????? ???? ?????? ??? ????????????? ??????? ??? ??????????????.

Baumgart rejects Welcker’s view of the essentially religious character of Aristides, pp. 112, 113.

2374.

Baumgart, pp. 62, 102, Bald ist in der ganzen Heilungsgeschichte dies die Hauptsache, dass nun sein Rhetorentum die hÖchste Weihe erhalten habe.

2375.

Id. p. 62.

2376.

Baumgart, pp. 60, 61.

2377.

Id. p. 64.

2378.

v. c. iii. of Pater’s Marius the Epicurean.

2379.

Philostr. Apoll. Tyan. iii. 44; D. Cass. lxix. 22, ???????? ?? ??????????? ??? ???? ??? ????????? ???????? ???? ??? ?????.

2380.

Caton, Temples and Ritual of Asklepios, p. 27.

2381.

Baumgart, p. 97; cf. Aristid. Or. p. 574 (Jebb’s Ed.), 531.

2382.

Aristid. Or. p. 530 (Jebb).

2383.

Caton, p. 29.

2384.

Maury, La Magie, p. 231.

2385.

S. Hieron. in Is. c. lv. p. 482.

2386.

Pausan. ix. 39, § 4; Max. Tyr. Diss. xiv. 2.

2387.

Plut. De Def. Or. c. 41-46; Philostr. Apoll. Tyan. i. 8; cf. Maury, La Magie, p. 237.

2388.

Apul. Met. xi. c. 22.

2389.

Max. Tyr. xvi. i.; Philostr. Apoll. Tyan. ii. 37; vi. 11.

2390.

See a list in Tertullian, De Anima, c. 46.

2391.

Strab. xvii. 17 (1052).

2392.

Diod. Sic. i. 25.

2393.

Cic. De Div. i. 58.

2394.

Wolff, De Nov. Orac. Aet. p. 29.

2395.

Caton, p. 28.

2396.

Diod. Sic. i. 25.

2397.

Wolff, De Nov. Orac. Aet. p. 31, Ejus sacerdotes fraudibus famosi opportune Isidis templo Pompeiano culpae convicti sunt; ubi ipse scalinam vidi secretam, etc. Maury, La Magie, pp. 237-8.

2398.

Cf. Maury, p. 240.

2399.

See a list in Caton, p. 36 sq.

2400.

Caton, p. 28; Pausan. ii. 27, § 5; cf. Strab. viii. 6, § 15.

2401.

Caton, pp. 40, 38.

2402.

Baumgart, p. 101.

2403.

Cf. Aristid. Or. 536-538 (Jebb, t. i.).

2404.

Aristid. Or. 537, ????? ??? ???????? ??? ??????????, ????? ?? ??????????.

?? ??? ????? ? ?????????? ? ??????????? ???? ?????????? ??? ??????, ???.: cf. 25, ????? ????? ??????????? ??? ?????????? ??? ??????, ???.

2477.

Ib. c. 46.

2478.

Ib. cc. 53 sqq.

2479.

Jul. Capitol. M. Ant. cc. 22, 17.

2480.

Luc. Alex. cc. 36-48.

2481.

Luc. Alex. c. 38.

2482.

Friedl. Sittengesch. iii. 456.

2483.

Or. Henz. 1810, 5320; cf. Preller, Rom. Myth. (Tr.), p. 415.

2484.

D. Cass. lxix, 11; cf. Gregorov. Hadrian, p. 128.

2485.

Luc. De Morte Peregr. c. 29.

2486.

Jul. Capitol. M. Ant. c. 18, hodieque in multis domibus M. Antonini statuae consistunt inter deos penates ... sacrilegus judicatus est qui ejus imaginem in sua domo non habuit.

2487.

Max. Tyr. Diss. xiv. 8.

2488.

Petron. Sat. 17.

2489.

Herod. i. 60.

2490.

Preller, Myth. Rom. p. 65, 66, 387.

2491.

Cf. Or. Henz. Ind. pp. 27, 28; v. especially 1730 (genius Jovis), 1812 (Neronis), 193 (Arvernorum), 2204 (Col. Ostiensis), 689 (municipii), 1704 (legionis), 4113 (pavimentariorum), 6628 (fontis).

2492.

Or. Henz. 2135, Sei Deo Sei Deivae Sac. etc.; 1580, Aesculapio et Hygiae caeterisque diis deabusque hujus loci Salutaribus; 5902, Hospitibus diis Mauricis et genio loci, etc.

2493.

Cf. Tertull. Apol. c. 24.

2494.

Or. Henz. 1997-2001; cf. D. Cass. lxxvii. 15.

2495.

Or. Henz. 823, 1967.

2496.

Ib. 1959, 1986, 1954; cf. C.I.L. xii. 1556, 3097; viii. 9195, 4578, 8834.

2497.

Friedl. Sittengesch. iii. pp. 482-4.

Or. Henz. 1580.

Or. Henz. 5689.

Ib. 1560.

Ib. 1632, 4, 7; Nymphis ob reditum aquarum, etc.

2502.

Ib. 5758.

2503.

Philostr. Apoll. Tyan. iv. 16, ???????? ??? ?? ?????????? ?????? ??? ????? ??????????? ???.

2504.

Friedl. Sittengesch. ii class="tei tei-notelabel">2615.

Überweg, Hist. Phil. i. p. 237.

2616.

Zeller, iii. 1, p. 735.

2617.

Phaedo, 86 B.

2618.

Zeller, iii. 1, p. 740; Überweg, Hist. Phil. i. p. 237.

2619.

Jul. Capit. M. Ant. c. 13; c. 21; cf. Merivale, Rom. Hist. viii. pp. 335-6.

2620.

M. Aurel. vii. 67; Zeller, iii. 1, p. 677.

2621.

M. Arnold, Essays in Criticism, p. 427.

2622.

M. Aurel. iii. 3, ?? ?? ?? ??????????, ????? ????? ??? ?????? ??????????, ??? ???????? ??????? ??????? ?? ?????? ? ???????? ?? ?????????: Rohde, Psyche, ii. pp. 327-28.

2623.

ix. 3, ????? ?????????? ??? ???? ?? ? ?? ???????? ??? ??? ??????? ?????? ??????????.

2624.

xii. 30-32.

2625.

vi. 42, 47; ix. 29, 32; vi. 15; vii. 19; vi. 36, ??? ?? ??????? ??? ??????, ?????? ??? ??????: Rohde, Psyche, ii. p. 147.

2626.

M. Aurel. vi. 49, ???? ???????????? ??? ??????? ????? ?????? ?? ??? ?? ??????????; ???? ?? ??? ??? ????? ??????? ???? ??????? ??? ??? ?? ????? ????????.

2627.

M. Aurel. ix. 32, ?????? ?? ?? ??? ??? ???????? ?? ??? ?? ???? ??? ???????? ?????? ???????.

2628.

Ib. vi. 36, ? ????, ? ??????, ?????? ??? ?????? ... ???? ???????? ??? ??????.

2629.

Ib. vii. 35.

2630.

Ib. x. 33; v. 11; v. 27.

2631.

Ib. xi. 1.

2632.

Ib. vi. 16; vi. 2; vi. 51; vii. 21, ????? ??? ? ?? ???? ?????? ???? ????? ?? ? ?????? ???? ??? ????.

2633.

Ib. xi. 1; vii. 1.

2634.

M. Aurel. vi. 46, 47; vii. 3; ix. 30.

2635.

Ib. vi. 47; cf. Luc. Icaromenippus, c. 18; Traj. sive Tyr. c. 8; Charon, c. 17; Menip. c. 15, ???’ ????? ?? ???? ??, ????? ??? ?????????? ???.

2636.

M. Aurel. vii. 19, ??? ??? ??? ???? ??????, ?? ??? ?????????, ????????????? ????? ?? ??????. Cf. ix. 29, ?????????? ? ??? ?????? ?????? ????? ?????.

2637.

Ib. vii. 49; vii. 1; ix. 14; x. 23; xi. 1.

2638.

M. Aurel. iv. 32.

2639.

Ib. xi. 1.

2640.

Ib. ix. 29, ???? ??? ??????? 4122-h.html#noteref_2701" class="pginternal">2701.

Plut. De Ser. Num. Vind. c. 22 (565).

2702.

Ib. c. 22 (566), ?????? ?????? ??????? ?????, ??? ?? ?????? ?????????? ??????? ?? ??? ????? ???????? ? ?????? ??????????? ???.

2703.

Plut. De Ser. Num. Vind. c. 22 (567 D), ?????? ?? ??????? ?????? ?????????? ??? ??? ???????? ???????? ??? ?????, ???’ ????? ???????????????? ????? ?’ ???? ?? ??? ????? ???????? ? ?????? ? ????? ????????? ???.

2704.

Cf. Pausan. ix. 39, § 5; Philostr. Apoll. Tyan. viii. 19; Plut. De Gen. Socr. c. 21, 22 (589, 590); cf. Gardner and Jevons, Greek Antiq. pp. 267-8.

2705.

Plut. De Gen. Socr. c. 22 (590), ????????? ?? ??? ??? ??? ??????? ???????, ?????? ?? ?????????? ?????? ???? ???.

2706.

Ib. (591).

2707.

Plut. De Fac. in Orb. Lun. c. 30.

2708.

Boissier, Rel. Rom. i. p. 67.

2709.

W. Fowler, Rom. Festivals, p. 89.

2710.

Ib. p. 229.

2711.

Cic. De Div. i. 5, 9, existimo ... si Dii sint, esse qui divinent; i, 38, 82; si sunt Dii, neque ante declarant hominibus quae futura sint, aut non diligunt homines, aut quid eventurum sit ignorant. This argument is attributed to Chrysippus and Diogenes in ii. 49, 101.

2712.

Sen. Frag. 39 (Aug. De Civ. D. vi. 11). See Varro’s opinion, ib. vi. 5.

2713.

De Civ. Dei, vi. 4.

2714.

Cic. De Nat. D. ii. 28, 70; cf. Sen. Frag. 39, cf. Ep. 95, 47.

2715.

Cic. De Div. i. 3, 6.

2716.

Polyb. vi. 56, ??? ??? ????? ?? ???? ???? ?????? ????????? ????????????? ????? ???????? ?? ??????? ????????, ???? ?? ??? ??????????????, ??? ???????? ??? ?????????????? ... ???? ?? ?????????? ?????????, ???.

2717.

Cic. De Nat. Deor. iii 17, 43, in illa aureola oratiuncula, cf. Sym. Rel. iii.

2718.

Boissier, Rel. Rom. i. p. 60.

2719.

Aug. De Civ. D. vi. 2; cf. Cic. De Leg. ii. 13, 33, dubium non est quin haec disciplina et ars augurum evanuerit jam et vetustate et negligentia.

2720.

D. Cass. liv. 36; cf. W. Fowler’s Rom. Fest. p. 343, Preller, Rom. Mythol. p. 24.

2721.

Suet. Octav. c. 30.

2722.

Ib. c. 70, coena ??????????: cf. Thuc. vi. c. 28, § 1.

2723.

Suet. Octav. c. 91, 92.

2724.

D. Cass. liv. 35 C.I.L. xii. 4322, 4326.

2845.

Or. Henz. 7336, 2322, 6031, 4109, 7197; C.I.L. viii. 9401.

2846.

Goehler, p. 45.

2847.

C.I.L. xii. 1782.

2848.

Or. Henz. 2325, 2984.

2849.

Mahaffy, The Greek World under Roman Sway, p. 295 sqq.

2850.

RÉville, Rel. unter den Sev. p. 65; Apul. Met. viii. 24 (v. Hildenbrand’s notes.)

2851.

Apul. Met. viii. c. 27 (580); cf. Aug. De Civ. Dei, ii. 4.

2852.

Apul. Met. viii. c. 28 (583).

2853.

Ib. c. 28 (585).

2854.

Ib. c. 30 (589).

2855.

C.I.L. x. 1406; Lamprid. Alex. Sev. c. 37.

2856.

Firm. Matern. De Err. Prof. Rel. c. 2, 3.

2857.

RÉville, p. 66; Goehler, p. 29; Cumont, Mon. figurÉs de Mithra, Introd. p. 333; Or. 2329, 2330, 1900; C.I.L. vi. 497, 500, 511; cf. ib. x. 1596, where the taurobolium is connected with Venus Coelesta (sic); Preller, p. 486.

2858.

Tertull. De Praescrip. Haeret. 40; Firm. Matern. De Err. Prof. Relig. c. 27, neminem aput idola profusus sanguis munit ... polluit sanguis iste, non redimit.... Tauribolium quid vel criobolium scelerata te sanguinis labe perfundit? S. Paulin. Nol. Poem. Ult. 112-117.

2859.

Cumont, Introd. pp. 236, 333; Herodot. iv. 103; Eur. Iph. T. 1455; Strab. v. 3, § 12, p. 240.

2860.

Cumont, p. 334; Gasquet, Culte de Mithra, p. 75; Cumont, Introd. p. 334, n. 5; RÉville, Rel. unter den Sev. p. 93, takes an opposite view.

2861.

Donsbach, Die rÄumliche Verbreitung des Mithrasdienstes, pp. 8, 9.

2862.

This is rendered doubtful by Porphyr. De Abstin. iv. 16, ?? ???? ??? ?????????? ??? ????? ?????? ?????? ??????? ?????? (????????). ??? ?? ???????? ?????? (altered by Felicianus to ???????); cf. Gasquet, p. 98.

2863.

C.I.L. vi. 1778, 9.

2864.

Goehler, p. 55; C.I.L. x. 1596; Puteoli, p. Chr. 134; taurobol. Veneris Caelestae (sic).

2865.

Or. 2382; Goehler, p. 55; cf. C.I.L. viii. 8203.

2866.

Or. 2327, ex jussu ipsius; C.I.L. xii. 1782, ex vaticinatione Archigalli; cf. xii. 4321, 4323.

2867.

Lafaye, p. 160, 1.

2939.

Met. xi. c. 24.

2940.

Plut. De Is. et Osir. c. 78; Aristid. Or. Sac. viii. 52, 53.

2941.

Herodot. ii. c. 50.

2942.

Ib. c. 81; Iambl. De Pythag. Vit. § 151, cf. § 14; Porph. Pythag. § 6; Plut. De Is. et Osir. c. 10.

2943.

Philostr. Apollon. Tyan. vi. 19; D. Chrys. Or. xii. § 68.

2944.

Juv. xv. 3; cf. Cic. De Nat. Deor. iii. 15; Tuscul. v. 27.

2945.

Plut. De Is. et Osir. cc. 72-74.

2946.

Herodot. viii. c. 41.

2947.

Apul. Met. xi. c. 11, attollens canis cervices arduas Anubis; cf. Juv. vi. 534; Plut. De Is. c. 44; Tertull. Apol. 6; Ad Nat. ii. 8.

2948.

Mau, Pompeii, p. 175.

2949.

Lafaye, p. 106, 7.

2950.

Or. 1871.

2951.

On a Dacian inscription, C.I.L. iii. 1590, Placidae Reginae.

2952.

Baumgart, Ael. Aristides ReprÄsent. der Soph. Rhet. des zweit. Jahr. p. 91; cf. Hadrian’s letter to Servianus, Vopisc. Vit. Saturn. c. 8.

2953.

Plut. De Is. c. 66, 79.

2954.

Lafaye, p. 101.

2955.

Tac. Hist. i. 23; D. Cass. lxxi. 8, ??? ??? ??? ????? ???? ???????? ???? ????? ????????? ??????? ?? ????? ???.

2956.

Juv. vi. 581.

2957.

Or. 1882, ex visu; C.I.L. vi. 346, 572; v. 484.

2958.

Cic. De Div. i. 58, 132; Diod. i. 25; Aristid. Or. Sacr. iii. p. 319 (Jebb).

2959.

Tac. Hist. iv. 81, monitu Serapidis, etc.

2960.

Lafaye, p. 104; Aristid. Or. Sacr. viii. 55.

2961.

Aristid. Or. Sacr. viii. 54, ??????????????? ??? ???? ??? ??????????? ?????, ???.

2962.

Ib. viii. 54, ????? ????? ??? ??????????, ???? ??? ??? ??? ????? ????????? ???.; Plew, De Sarapide, p. 30.

2963.

Rohde, Psyche, ii. p. 126; cf. i. 286; Lobeck, Aglaoph. i. p. 239; Hardie, Lectures on Classical Subjects, pp. 56, 57. The Orphici laid more stress on the moral aspect of immortality than the priests of Eleusis did.

Cumont, Mon. 246 (p. 348).

3092.

Id. Intr. p. 109; Mon. 246, 247, 248, 251, 273.

3093.

Donsbach, p. 6; Gasquet, p. 24; Dieterich, Mithrasliturgie, p. 146; S. Hieron. Com. in Amos, v. 9, 10.

3094.

Macrob. Som. Scip. i. 15, § 10 sqq.

3095.

Cumont, Intr. pp. 71, 72.

3096.

Cf. Dieterich, Mithrasliturgie, pp. 150, 165, 202; Cumont, Intr. pp. 331, 336.

3097.

Gasquet, p. 104; cf. Macrob. Som. Scip. i. 12; Macrob. Sat. i. 17; cf. Lobeck, Aglaoph. ii. 933; Rohde, Psyche, ii. pp. 121, 402.

3098.

Cumont, Intr. pp. 308, 309; cf. Macrob. Som. Scip. i. 12.

3099.

Cumont, Intr. p. 294; ib. p. 75. But cf. Gasquet, p. 41.

3100.

Cumont, Intr. p. 295.

3101.

Ib. p. 296.

3102.

Ib. p. 301.

3103.

Id. Mon. 251 (p. 365).

3104.

Id. Intr. p. 297.

3105.

Id. Mon. 246 (p. 349).

3106.

Cumont, Mon. 251 (p. 365).

3107.

Id. Intr. p. 300; Gasquet, p. 62.

3108.

Cumont, Intr. p. 316; cf. Gasquet, pp. 94, 95.

3109.

Cumont, Intr. p. 301.

3110.

Cf. Denis, IdÉes Morales, etc. ii. p. 248 sq.; cf. Burgmann, Seneca’s Theologie, p. 37; Sen. Ep. 95, 50; 31, § 11; Philostr. Apoll. Tyan. v. 25; Max. Tyr. Diss. viii.; xiv. § 7, 8; xvi. § 9.

3111.

v. supra, p. 426.

3112.

Cumont, Intr. p. 303.

3113.

Ib. pp. 207, 208.

3114.

Plut. De Is. et Osir. c. 46.

3115.

Firm. Matern. c. 20, alterius profani sacramenti signum est ???? ?? ??????, etc. Cf. S. Hieron. Adv. Jov. i. § 7; Just. Mart. Dial. c. Tryph. c. 70; Prud. Cathem. v. 9; Cumont, Mon. 199, 207.

3116.

Id. Intr. p. 160.

3117.

Ib. p. 162; Mon. 204.

3118.

Id. Intr. p. 164.

3119.

Ant. P. c. 12.

3193.

Cf. Vop. Prob. c. i. § 3.

3194.

Cf. Amm. Marc. xv. 1, 3.

3195.

Cf. Amm. Marc. xv. 1, 3.

3196.

Amm. Marc. xxiii. 6, 5, unde reges ejusdem gentis praetumidi appellari se patiuntur Solis fratres et Lunae.

3197.

D. Cass. lxxii. 15, 5.

3198.

Treb. Poll. Gallien. 16, 18, crinibus suis auri scobem aspersit, etc.

3199.

Cumont, Intr. p. 291, n. 5.

3200.

Cumont, Inscr. No. 367.

3201.

Macrob. Sat. i. 17; Cumont, Intr. p. 348. The Mithraeum of Sarreburg seems to have been frequented till 395 A.D.

3202.

Cumont, Intr. p. 332, n. 3.

3203.

C.I.L. vi. 504, 846; C. Volusianus was perhaps Praef. Urb. in 365 or Consul in 314.

3204.

Herod, ii. 48, 50; Caes. B.G. vi. 17; Tac. Germ. c. 9.

3205.

Cumont, Intr. pp. 341, 2.

3206.

Ib. p. 339.

3207.

Ib. p. 341; cf. Gasquet, p. 118 sqq.

3208.

Macrob. Som. Scip. i. 13.

3209.

Cumont, Intr. p. 344.

3210.

S. Hieron. Ep. 107 (Ad Laetam).

3211.

Gasquet, p. 134.

3212.

Cumont, Intr. p. 329; Porphyr. De Abstin. iv. 36; cf. Gasquet, p. 98.

3213.

Hatch, Hibbert Lectures, pp. 49, 135, 292.

3214.

Cumont, Intr. p. 334.

3215.

Gasquet, p. 137.

3216.

C.I.L. vi. 500, 504, 511, 1779.

3217.

Maury, La Magie, p. 54.

3218.

Ib. p. 146.

3219.

Macrob. Sat. i. 17, § 4.

3220.

S. Hieron. Ep. 107, § 2.

The following changes have been made to the text:

	page xx, “Pages” added before “560-584”
	page 13, “pannelled” changed to “panelled”
	page 14, “aceticism” changed to “asceticism”
	page 16, comma changed to semicolon after “23”
	page 30, comma added after “17”
	page 33, “Bossier” changed to “Boissier”
	page 53, “proem.” changed to “prooem.”
	page 55, period added after “character” and after “v”
	page 96, “sick bed” changed to “sick-bed”
	page 176, period added after “Capitol”
	page 205, semicolon added after “sq.”
	page 211, comma changed to period after “Henz”
	page 212, “CÆsar” changed to “Caesar”
	page 216, italics removed from “Marq.”, “wechselude” changed to “wechselnde”
	page 224, period added after “wealth”
	page 228, “mediÆval” changed to “mediaeval”
	page 229, “1” changed to “i.”
	page 284, comma added after “Boissier”
	page 289, “fuhrt” changed to “fÜhrt”
	page 300, “Æneas” changed to “Aeneas”
	page 305, period changed to comma after “Burgmann”. period added after “2”
	page 312, “fastidiodosi” changed to “fastidiosi”
	page 320, “intelliges” changed to “intelleges”
	page 325, italics removed from “Laert.”
	page 332, comma added after “female”
	page 338, “t?” changed to “t?”
	page 348, “Greich.” changed to “Griech.”
	page 359, “Phil der.” changed to “Phil. der”
	page 397, comma changed to period after “Saturn”
	page 405, period added after “pa?ad?d???”
	page 407, period added after “64”
	page 415, “xv;” changed to “xv.;”
	page 437, period added after “Diss”
	page 457, p. added before “1051”
	page 459, period added after “piece”
	page 464, period added after “?t?”
	page 475, comma added after “23”
	page 480, “Aesclepius” changed to “Asclepius”
	page 513, period removed after “Ad”
	page 517, comma added after “2”
	page 524, “mythopoeic” changed to “mythopoeic”
	page 550, comma added after “Foucart”
	page 556, “raÜmliche” changed to “rÄumliche”
	page 557, parenthesis removed before “Puteoli”
	page 567, “Archaeol.” changed to “ArchÆol.”
	page 578, period added after “?t?”
	page 584, comma added after “lonely”
	page 587, “Mithrasdientes” changed to “Mithrasdienstes”
	page 614, italics added to “Mon.”
	page 627, “Caeonius” changed to “Caeionius”
	page 628, comma added after “Aurelius” and “Hadrian”
	page 629, “Mithriac” changed to “Mithraic”
	page 633, comma added after “ib.”

Variations in hyphenation (e.g. “springtime”, “spring-time”), capitalisation (“inscription”, “Inscription”) and spelling (“under world”, “underworld”; “mediaeval”, “medieval”; “praetorian”, “pretorian”) have not been changed.

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