De Pythiae oraculis

BASILOCLES. You have spun out the time, Philinus, till it is late in the evening, in giving the strangers a full sight of all the consecrated rarities; so that I am quite tired with waiting longer for your society.

PHILINUS. Therefore we walked slowly along, talking and discoursing, O Basilocles, sowing and reaping by the way such sharp and hot disputes as offered themselves, which sprung up anew and grew about us as we walked, like the armed men from the Dragon’s teeth of Cadmus.

BASILOCLES. Shall we then call some of those that were present; or wilt thou be so kind as to tell us what were the discourses and who were the disputants?

PHILINUS. That, Basilocles, it must be my business to do. For thou wilt hardly meet with any one else in the city able to serve thee; for we saw most of the rest ascending with the stranger up to the Corycian cave and to Lycorea.

BASILOCLES. This same stranger is not only covetous of seeing what may be seen, but wonderfully civil and genteel.

PHILINUS. He is besides a great lover of science, and studious to learn. But these are not the only exercises which are to be admired in him. He is a person modest, yet facetious, smart and prudent in dispute, void of all passion and contumacies in his answers; in short, you will say of him at first sight that he is the son of a virtuous father.

BASILOCLES. I have not seen him, Philinus, but many report several things of the young gentleman, much like what you say. But, pray now, what was the beginning of these discourses? Upon what occasion did they arise?

PHILINUS. The interpreters of the sacred mysteries acted without any regard to us, who desired them to contract their relation into as few words as might be, and to pass by the most part of the inscriptions. But the stranger was but indifferently taken with the form and workmanship of the statues, being one, as it appeared, who had already been a spectator of many rare pieces of curiosity. He admired the beautiful color of the brass, not foul and rusty, but shining with a tincture of blue. What, said he, was it any certain mixture and composition of the ancient artists in brass, like the famous art of giving a keen edge to swords, without which brass could not be used in war? For Corinthian brass received its lustre not from art, but by chance, when a fire had devoured some house wherein there was both gold and silver, but of brass the greater plenty; which, being intermixed and melted into one mass, derives its name from the brass, of which there was the greater quantity. Then Theo interposing said: But we have heard another more remarkable reason than this; how an artist in brass at Corinth, happening upon a chest full of gold, and fearing to have it divulged, cut the gold into small pieces, and mixed it by degrees with the brass, till he found the more noble metal gave a more than usual lustre to the baser, and so transformed it that he sold at a great rate the unknown mixture, that was highly admired for its beauty and color. But I believe both the one and the other to be fabulous; for by all likelihood this Corinthian brass was a certain mixture and temperature of metals, prepared by art; just as at this day artisans temper

What then, said Diogenianus, do you believe to be the cause of this extraordinary color in the brass? And Theo replied: Seeing that of those first and most natural elements, which are and ever will be,—that is to say, fire, air, earth, and water,—there is none that approaches so near to brass or that so closely environs it as air alone, we have most reason to believe that the air occasions it, and that from thence proceeds the difference which brass displays from other metals Or did you know this even before Theognis was born, as the comic poet intimates; but would you know by what natural quality or by what virtual power this same air thus colors the brass, being touched and surrounded by it? Yes, said Diogenianus; and so would I, dear son, replied the worthy Theo. First then let us endeavor, altogether with submission to your good pleasure, said the first propounder, to find out the reason wherefore of all moistures oil covers brass with rust. For it cannot be imagined that oil of itself causes that defilement, if when first laid on it is clean and pure. By no means, said the young gentleman, in regard the effect seems to proceed from another cause; for the rust appears through the oil, which is thin, pure, and transparent, whereas it is clouded by other more thick and muddy liquors, and so is not able to show itself. It is well said, son, replied the other, and truly; but hear, however, and then consider the reason which Aristotle produces. I am ready, returned the young gentleman. He says then, answered the other, that the rust insensibly penetrates and dilates itself through other liquids, as being of parts unequal, and of a thin substance; but that it grows to a consistency, and is, as it were, incorporated by the more dense substance of the oil. Now if

When we had made our acknowledgment that he had spoken truth, and besought him to proceed, he told us that the air of the city of Delphi is heavy, compacted, thick, and forcible, by reason of the reflection and resistency of the adjacent mountains, and besides that, is sharp and cutting (as appears by the eager stomachs and swift digestion of the inhabitants); and that this air, entering and penetrating the brass by its keenness, fetches forth from the body of the brass much rust and earthy matter, which afterwards it stops and coagulates by its own density, ere it can get forth; by which means the rust abounding in quantity gives that peculiar grain and lustre to the superficies. When we approved this argument, the stranger declared his opinion, that it needed no more than one of those suppositions to clear the doubt; for, said he, that tenuity or subtilty seems to be in some measure contrary to that thickness supposed to be in the air, and therefore there is no reason to suppose it; for the brass, as it grows old, of itself exhales and sends forth that rust, which afterwards, being stopped and fixed by the thickness of the air, becomes apparent by reason of its quantity. Then Theo replied: and what hinders but that the same thing may be thick and thin both together, like the woofs of silk or fine linen?—of which Homer says:

Thin was the stuff,

Yet liquid oil ran o’er the tissued woof,

[*](Odyss. VII. 107.)

This said, after short silence, the guides began again to cite certain words of an ancient oracle in verse, which, as it seemed to me, pointed at the sovereignty of Aegon king of Argos. I have often wondered, said Diogenianus, at the meanness and ill-contrived hobbling of the verses which conveyed the ancient oracles into the world. And yet Apollo is called the chief of the Muses; whom it therefore behooved to take no less care of elegancy and beauty in style and language, than of the voice and manner of singing. Besides, he must needs be thought to surpass in a high degree either Homer or Hesiod in poetic skill. Nevertheless we find several of the oracles lame and erroneous, as well in reference to the measure as to the words. Upon which the poet Serapio, newly come from Athens, being then in company, said: If we believe that those verses were composed by Apollo, can we acknowledge what you allege, that they come short of the beauty and elegancy which adorn the writings of Homer and Hesiod; and shall we not make use of them as examples of neatness and curiosity, correcting our judgment anticipated and forestalled by evil custom? To whom Boethus the geometer (the person who you know has lately gone over to the camp of Epicurus) said: Have you not heard the story of Pauson the painter? Not I, replied Serapio. It is worth your attention, answered Boethus. He, having contracted to paint a horse wallowing upon his back, drew the horse galloping at full speed; at which when the person that had agreed with him seemed to be not a little displeased, Pauson fell a laughing, and turned the picture upside downward; by which means the posture was quite altered, and the horse that seemed to run before lay tumbling now upon the ground. This (as Bion says) frequently happens to propositions, when they are once inverted; for some will deny the oracles to be elegant, because they come from Apollo; others will deny Apollo

To whom Serapio: We labor, Boethus, said he, under the distempered senses both of sight and hearing, being accustomed through niceness and delicacy to esteem and call that elegant which most delights; and perhaps we may find fault with the Pythian priestess because she does not warble so charmingly as the fair lyric songstress Glauca, or else because she does not perfume herself with precious odors or appear in rich and gaudy habit. And some may mislike her because she burns for incense rather barley-meal and laurel than frankincense, ladanon, and cinnamon. Do you not see, some one will say, what a grace there is in Sappho’s measures, and how they delight and tickle the ears and fancies of the hearers? Whereas the Sibyl with her frantic grimaces, as Heraclitus says, uttering sentences altogether thoughtful and serious, neither bespiced nor perfumed, continues her voice a thousand years by the favor of the Deity that speaks within her. Pindar therefore tells us that Cadmus heard from heaven a sort of music that was neither lofty nor soft, nor shattered into trills and divisions; for severe holiness will not admit the allurements of pleasure, that was for the most part thrown into the world and flowed (as it appears) into the ears of men at the same time with the Goddess of mischief.

Serapio thus concluding, Theo with a smile proceeded. Serapio, said he, has not forgot his wonted custom of taking an opportunity to discourse of pleasure. But we,

Thus walking along, we were by this time got as far as the statue of Hiero the tyrant, while the stranger, although a most learned historian, yet out of his complaisant and affable disposition, attentively leaned to the present relations. But then, among other things, hearing how that one of the brazen pillars that supported the said statue

It is very probable, answered Boethus; for, to tell you truth, we do not think it sufficient to enclose the Divinity every month in a mortal body, unless we incorporate him with every stone and lump of brass; as if Fortune and Chance were not sufficient artists to bring about such accidents

This was the reply I made Boethus, and the same answer I gave him touching the Sibyl’s verses; for when we drew near that part of the rock which joins to the senate-house, which by common fame was the seat of the first Sibyl that came to Delphi from Helicon, where she was bred by the Muses (though others affirm that she fixed herself at Maleo, and that she was the daughter of Lamia, the daughter of Neptune), Serapio made mention of certain verses of hers, wherein she had extolled herself as one that should never cease to prophesy even after her death; for that after her decease she should make her abode in the orb of the moon, being metamorphosed into the face of that planet; that her voice and prognostications should be always heard in the air, intermixed with the winds and by them driven about from place to place; and that from her body should spring various plants, herbs, and fruits to feed the sacred victims, which should have sundry forms and qualities in their entrails, whereby men would be able to foretell all manner of events to come. At this Boethus laughed outright; but the stranger replied that, though the Sibyl’s vain-glory seemed altogether fabulous, yet the subversions of several Grecian cities, transmigrations of the inhabitants, several invasions of barbarian armies, the destructions of kingdoms and principalities,

Then Boethus said: I would fain know what accidents fall out which time does not owe at length to Nature. What so prodigious or unlooked for, either by land or sea, either in respect of cities or men, which, if it be foretold, may not naturally come to pass at one season or other, in process of time? So that such a prophecy, to speak properly, cannot be called a prediction, but a bare speech or report, or rather a scattering or sowing of words in boundless infinity that have no probability or foundation; which, as they rove and wander in the air, Fortune accidentally meets, and musters together by chance, to correspond and agree with some event. For, in my opinion, there is a great difference between the coming to pass of what has been said and the saying of what shall happen. For the discourse of things that are not, being already in itself erroneous and faulty, cannot, in justice, claim the honor of after-credit from a fortuitous accident. Nor is it a true sign that the prophet foretells of his certain knowledge, because what he spoke happened to come to pass; in regard there are an infinite number of accidents, that fall in the course of nature, suitable to all events. He therefore that conjectures best, and whom the common proverb avers to be the exactest diviner, is he who finds out what shall happen hereafter, by tracing the footsteps of future probabilities.

Boethus having thus discoursed, Serapio replied, that Boethus had rightly and judiciously argued in reference to cursory predictions uttered not determinately and without good ground. One fairly guessed that such a captain should get the victory, and he won the field; another cried that such things portended the subversion of such a city, and it was laid in ashes. But when the person does not only foretell the event, but how and when, by what means, and by whom it shall come to pass, this is no hazardous conjecture, but an absolute demonstration, and pre-inspired discovery of what shall come to pass hereafter, and that too by the determined decree of fate, long before it comes to pass. For example, to instance the halting of Agesilaus,

Sparta, beware, though thou art fierce and proud,

Lest a lame king thy ancient glories cloud;

For then ’twill be thy fate to undergo

Tedious turmoils of war, and sudden woe;

When Trojan race shall tame Phoenicians bold,

Prodigious wonders shall the world behold;

From burning seas shall flames immense ascend;

Lightning and whirlwinds hideous rocks shall rend

From their foundations, and an island rear,

Dreadful to sight and terrible to hear.

In vain shall greater strength and valor then

Withstand the contemned force of weaker men.

Thus discoursing, we kept on our walk; but when we came into the Corinthian Hall and observed the brazen palm-tree, the only remainder left of all the consecrated donatives, Diogenianus wondered to observe several figures of frogs and water-snakes, all in cast work about the root of the tree. Nor were we less at a stand, well knowing the palm to be no tree that grows by the water or delights in moist or fenny places; neither do frogs at all concern or belong to the Corinthians, either by way of emblem or religious ceremony, or as the city arms; as the

The rising Sun then causing day to break,

Quits the cool pleasure of the oozy lake,

[*](Odyss. III. 1.)

Therefore Plato will have a man to be a heavenly tree, growing with his root, which is his head, upward. But you deride Empedocles for affirming that the Sun, being illumined by the reflection of the celestial light, with an intrepid countenance casts a radiant lustre back upon the convex of heaven; while you yourselves make the Sun to be a mere terrestrial animal or water plant, confining him to ponds, lakes, and such like regions of frogs. But let us refer these things to the tragical monstrosity of Stoical

After this, Serapio put the question to the Historical Directors, why that same hall did not bear the name of Cypselus, who was both the founder and the consecrator, but was called the Corinthians’ Hall? When all the rest were silent, because perhaps they knew not what to say; How can we imagine, said I with a smile, that these people should either know or remember the reason, having been so amused and thunderstruck by your high-flown discourses of prodigies altogether supernatural? However we have heard it reported, when the monarchical government of Corinth was dissolved by the ruin of Cypselus, the Corinthians claimed the honor to own both the golden statue at Pisa, and the treasure that lay in that place; which was also by the Delphians decreed to be their just right. This glory being envied them by the Eleans, they were by a decree of the Corinthians utterly

But when we came into the treasury of the Acanthians and Brasidas, the director showed us the place where formerly stood the obelisks dedicated to the memory of the courtesan Rhodopis. Then Diogenianus in a kind of passion said: It was no less ignominy for this city to allow Rhodopis a place wherein to deposit the tenth of her gains got by the prostitution of her body, than to put Aesop her fellow-servant to death. But why should you be offended at this, said Serapio, when you have but to cast up your eye, and you may yonder behold the golden statue of Mnesarete standing between kings and emperors, which Crates averred to be a trophy of the Grecian intemperance? The young man observed the statue, and said: But it was Phryne of whom Crates uttered that expression. That is very true, replied Serapio; for her propel name was Mnesarete; but Phryne was a nickname, given her by reason of the yellowness of her complexion, like the color of a toad that lies among moist and overgrown bushes, called in Greek φρύτη. For many times it happens that nicknames eclipse and drown the proper names both of men and women. Thus the mother of Alexander, whose true name was Polyxena, was afterwards called Myrtale, then Olympias, and Stratonice; Eumetis the Corinthian was afterwards called from her father’s name

In the same manner, and as easily, replied Serapio, as I may charge and accuse yourself for reproaching the slightest faults among the Greeks. For as Socrates reprehended Callias for being always at enmity with perfumes and precious odors, while yet he could endure to see boys and girls dance and tumble together, and to be a spectator of the lascivious gestures of wanton mummers and merryandrews; so, in my opinion, it is with you that envy the standing of a woman’s statue in the temple, because she made ill use of her beauty. Yet, though you see Apollo surrounded with the first-fruits and tenths of murders, wars, and plunder, and all the temple full of spoils and pillage taken from the Greeks, these things never move your indignation; you never commiserate your countrymen, when you read engraved upon these gaudy donatives such doleful inscriptions as these,—Brasidas and the Acanthians dedicate these spoils taken from Athenians,—the Athenians these from the Corinthians,—the Phocians these from the Thessalians,—the Orneatae these from the Sicyonians,—the Amphictyons these from the Phocians. Now if it is true that Praxiteles offended Crates by erecting a statue in honor of his mistress, in my opinion Crates rather ought to have commended him for placing among the golden monuments of kings and princes the statue of a courtesan, thereby showing a contempt and scorn of riches, to which there is nothing of grandeur or veneration due; for it becomes princes and kings to consecrate to the God the lasting monuments of justice, temperance, magnanimity, not of golden and superfluous opulency,

But you forgot, said one of the directors, that Croesus honored the woman that baked his bread with a golden statue, which he caused to be set up in this place, not to make a show of royal superfluity, but upon a just and honest occasion of gratitude, which happened thus. It is reported that Alyattes, the father of Croesus, married a second wife, by whom he had other children. This same step-dame, therefore, designing to remove Croesus out of the way, gave the woman-baker a dose of poison, with a strict charge to put it in the bread which she made for the young prince. Of this the woman privately informed Croesus, and gave the poisoned bread to the queen’s children. By which means Croesus quietly succeeded his father; when he did no less than acknowledge the fidelity of the woman by making even the God himself a testimony of his gratitude, wherein he did like a worthy and virtuous prince. And therefore it is but fitting that we should extol, admire, and honor the magnificent presents and offerings consecrated by several cities upon such occasions, like that of the Opuntines. For when the tyrants of Phocis had broken to pieces, melted down, and coined into money the most precious of their sacred donatives, which they spent as profusely in the neighboring parts, the Opuntines made it their business to buy up all the plundered metal, wherever they could meet with it; and putting it up into a vessel made on purpose, they sent it as an offering to Apollo. And, for my part, I cannot but highly applaud the inhabitants of Myrina and Apollonia, who sent hither the first-fruits of their harvests in sheaves of gold; but much more the Eretrians and Magnesians, who dedicated to our God the first-fruits of their men, not only acknowledging that from him all the fruits of the earth proceeded, but that he was also the giver of children, as being the

This was the harp which Jove’s most beauteous son

Framed by celestial skill to play upon;

And for his plectrum the Sun’s beams he used,

To strike those cords that mortal ears amused.

Now as Serapio was about to have added something of the same nature, the stranger, taking the words out of his mouth, said: I am wonderfully pleased to hear discourses upon such subjects as these; but I am constrained to claim your first promise, to tell me the reason wherefore now the Pythian prophetess no longer delivers her oracles in poetic numbers and measures. And therefore, if you please, we will surcease the remaining sight of these curiosities, choosing rather to sit a while and discourse the matter among ourselves. For it seems to be an assertion strangely repugnant to the belief and credit of the oracle, in regard that of necessity one of these two things must be true, either that the Pythian prophetess does not approach the place where the deity makes his abode, or that the sacred vapor that inspired her is utterly extinct, and its efficacy lost. Walking therefore to the south side of the temple, we took our seats within the portico, over against the temple of Tellus, having from thence a prospect of the Castalian fountain; insomuch that Boethus presently told us that the very place itself favored the stranger’s question. For formerly there stood a temple dedicated to the Muses, close by the source of the rivulet,

There flows the spring, whose limpid stream supplies

The fair-haired Muses water for their hands,

Before they touch the hallowed sacrifice.

The chaste inspectress of those sacred wells,

Whose fragrant water all her cisterns fills;

Water, through dark ambrosial nooks conveyed,

By which Castalian rivulets are fed.

Ye birds, bring hither all your plumes;

Ye bees, bring all your wax;

These things, then said Serapio, seem to belong of right to the Muses, as being their particular province; for it becomes us not to fight against the gods, nor with divination to abolish providence and divinity, but to search for convincement to refel repugnant arguments; and, in the mean time, not to abandon that religious belief and persuasion which has been so long propagated among us, from father to son, for so many generations.

You say very right, said I, Serapio; for we do not as yet despair of philosophy or give it over for lost, because, although formerly the ancient philosophers published their precepts and sentences in verse,—as did Orpheus, Hesiod, Parmenides, Xenophanes, Empedocles, and Thales,—yet

Upon which Theo interposing said: It cannot be denied but that there have been great changes and innovations in reference to poetry and the sciences; yet is it as certain, that from all antiquity oracles have been delivered in prose. For we find in Thucydides, that the Lacedaemonians, desirous to know the issue of the war then entered into against the Athenians, were answered in prose, that they should become potent and victorious, and that the Deity would assist them, whether invoked or not invoked; and again, that unless they recalled Pausanias, they would plough with a silver ploughshare.[*](See Thucydides, I. 118; V. 16.) To the Athenians consulting the oracle concerning their expedition into Sicily, he gave order to send for the priestess of Minerva from the city of Erythrae; which priestess went by the name of Hesychia, or repose. And when Dinomenes the Sicilian enquired what should become of his children, the oracle returned for answer, that they should all three

Yet there are some that now at this day run in verse; one of which has become notorious above the rest. There is in Phocis a temple consecrated to Hercules the woman-hater, the chief priest of which is forbid by the law and custom of the place to have private familiarity with his wife during the year that he officiates; for which reason they most commonly make choice of old men to perform that function. Nevertheless, some time since a young man, no way vicious and covetous of honor, yet doting upon a new married wife, took upon him the dignity. At first he was very chaste and temperate, and abstained from the woman; but soon after, the young lady coming to give him a visit as he was laid down to rest himself after a brisk dancing and drinking bout, he could not resist the charming temptation. But then, coming to himself and remembering what he had done, perplexed and terrified, he fled to the oracle to consult Apollo upon the crime which he had committed; who returned him this answer,

All things necessary God permitteth.