SOURCE: den Boer, W. “Religion and Literature in Hadrian's Policy.” Mnemosyne 8, no. 2 (1955): 123-44.

[In the following essay, den Boer describes some of the difficulties in determining and reconciling Hadrian's views on religion, tracing them to three distinct phases in the emperor's development.]

More than twenty years ago Rostovtzeff stated that the emperor Hadrian's reign, in spite of all that had been written about it, fully deserved a fresh monograph¹. The remark still holds good, notwithstanding the many studies, even extensive works, which have been devoted to this ruler since. Whenever Rostovtzeff's suggestion is followed Hadrian's religious policy will no doubt form an essential part of the new work. Recently discovered material (papyri and inscriptions) presents a number of problems which will have to be considered together with the literary evidence of the Vita Hadriani and Cassius Dio, to mention no more than the principal sources.

The emperor's personality and his outlook on contemporary religious trends cannot well be left out of consideration, no matter how precarious the examination or how doubtful the result. His personal views in matters of religion cannot be successfully approached unless his religious policy has first been conscientiously examined. The student will have to take his chance of falling a victim to political camouflage and devices on the part of the emperor himself; there is simply no alternative. Those who endeavour to reconstruct Hadrian's religion directly from his own statements, scant as they are, arrive at diametrically opposite results. Even so, they show that the road to such a reconstruction via the study of his religious policy, circuitous though it may be, is less liable to produce unfounded or arbitrary decisions. By way of introduction I submit the following examples of rash conclusions drawn from some of Hadrian's own statements on matters of religion.

The famous verses made by the emperor on his death-bed²:

Animula vagula blandula,
Hospes comesque corporis,
Quae nunc abibis in loca,
Pallidula rigida nudula,
Nec ut soles dabis iocos?

have been the subject of various speculations. According to W. Weber³ we have here “half mocking verses”. According to Th. Birth⁴ “he kept his wit even when in pain” till growing agony made him try to take his own life. D'Orgeval, who in 1950 published the latest extensive monograph on the emperor, dates the poem “au moment de sa mort”, that is after suicide had been contemplated. To him the verses prove the emperor's strength of mind which had not deserted him⁵. This view of the emperor as a true Stoic probably inspired the novelist Marguérite Yourcenar in her Mémoires d'Hadrien. Her book concludes with a translation of the emperor's soliloquy to his soul, but then her imagination makes her add: “Un instant encore, regardons ensemble les rives familières, les objets que sans doute nous ne reverrons plus … Tâchons d'entrer dans la mort les yeux ouverts”.

B. W. Henderson holds a quite different view. When the emperor made this poem he was not the “Lord of thirty legions” but “an ailing child looking wistfully after his darling toys, now for ever put aside, hardly fearful, yet doubtfully asking, of his journey into the unknown to-morrow”⁶. The verses do not express fear of death, even so they are a lament, not a product of a sardonic mind; there is no trace of wit.—This view also finds an echo in fiction. Henderson's opinion (1923) corresponds with that of the New Testament scholar A. Hausrath who in 1881, under the pen-name of G. Taylor, published a novel called Antinous, historischer Roman aus der römischen Kaiserzeit, in which the verses under discussion are characterized as,,rührende Seufzer von dem Sterbelager des Kaisers”. The novelist goes even a step further than Henderson. According to Hausrath the poem does show fear of death. Is this no more than the imagination of an unscientific author? That certainly is not the case; Graindor, a well-known Belgian historian and epigraphist, reaches the same view as Hausrath⁷. He finds in Hadrian a leaning to the Eleusinian mysteries, shown in his fear of the life hereafter, “qu'il a lui-même exprimé dans la petite pièce de vers si connue”. Graindor finds no trace, however, of pathetic sighs, rather a certain artificial sweetness, affectation and coquetry, a ‘mièvrerie’ which is said to be embodied in a mysterious manner in this expression of agony.

Linguistic examination of the famous poem obviously centres upon the question of the value of the diminutives. But here also two roads are open to us. Diminutives undoubtedly have something of the pejorative, which in our case might be expressive of derision or playfulness. But they also might denote something lovable or delicate. In Apuleius, who may be called a contemporary of Hadrian, a similar accumulation may be found of diminutives which are rightly held to express playfulness and badinage⁸. Obviously Apuleius' language cannot help us to find the right interpretation of Hadrian's poem. The nickname Graeculus bestowed on the emperor⁹ has been regarded both as a name of honour and as a nickname. Both in the case of the word Graeculus and that of the poem we are for the moment still in the dark.

The same applies to an edict of 136 a.d. which has been preserved in a papyrus and which is an important source for the emperor's economic policy. It contains, however, a special phraseology which lends it some importance for our purpose, and it is therefore given as a second illustration. It runs as follows¹⁰:

“Having been informed that now, as last year, the Nile has been inadequate in its rise …,—although during a succession of preceding years its rise was not only plentiful but almost higher than any year before, and, flooding all over the country, it caused the production of abundant and flourishing crops—still I have deemed it necessary to bestow a favour on the cultivators, although I hope—this be said with God!—that in years to come any possible deficiencies will be supplied by the Nile itself and the earth

Then follow the measures in connection with taxation, with which we are not concerned here.

According to Rostovtzeff this imperial reply to a request for reduction of taxation is given “in der ihm eigenen zugleich gläubigfrommen und sarkastischen Art”¹¹. He reads in it a kind of playfulness and of cynicism: old Hadrian in the last years of his life no longer cherishes his erstwhile plans for social and economic reform. With good-natured derision he seems to say: “You are barking up the wrong tree, ask the Nile”. Further, “don't forget the fat years you had”. Finally, “good crops always alternate with bad crops, such is nature”.—Especially in the last words P. J. Alexander finds a deep philosophical insight, fatalism and resignation, “only a few years before his death”. We observe, however, that Rostovtzeff's is a totally different interpretation: he reads in Hadrian's words the assurance that nature itself converts adversity into prosperity and that the god Nilus will look after the Egyptians.

Without venturing a final opinion on the interpretation of this papyrus we might point to the many coins showing the god Nile with the cornu copiae as an attribute. They commemorate Hadrian's stay in Egypt in 130 a.d., when the river-god, well known from the Vatican group, appears for the first time on coins. Beneath the god there is always a crocodile, which itself is the personification of the god, and in front usually a hippopotamus; often children carrying ears of corn in their hands are seen playing round the river-god. P. L. Strack rightly says: “Der Nil—das zeigen diese Münzen deutlich—gewann in hadrianischer Zeit eine über das lokal-aegyptische hinausgreifende Bedeutung”¹². The deification of Antinous (see below) is connected with the worship of the Nile.

The views on these two texts show that in judging the emperor's statements on religious matters great care needs to be exercised. The less simple the mind, the harder the task of fathoming it. All testimonies tend to give us the impression that Hadrian was not a simple soul. The words of Tertullian (Apol. 5) “omnium curiositatum explorator” may be taken to sum up what the ancient historians knew about the emperor. Are we in the position to go beyond this? The question brings us back to our starting point. For an answer we shall have to examine his religious policy, and possibly this will also reveal the emperor's personal convictions.

The success of a given policy, in matters of religion or in other fields, depends on a clear appreciation of the spirit of the times. Hadrian had had ample opportunity for acquiring an understanding of current opinion through his many tours of inspection, which extended over most parts of the Empire. Faced with a question regarding the characteristics of the inner life of the emperor's subjects we might, without claiming completeness, point to two outstanding aspects, viz. love for the past and a sensitive taste for a rhetorical description of it. Rhetoric and the archaistic often are close companions. We find them both amply represented in Plutarch. The rhetorical mind draws its inspiration from examples from the past. It displays a historical interest of a utilitarian kind. Those who have gone before are either worth imitating, or they are warning examples. A moralizing historian therefore reduces all great figures to a common level, or perhaps to two common levels: they deserve either nothing but praise or nothing but censure. In the case of the greatest among the great this simple classification has been made a little more complicated, but in the meting out of praise and blame one single method is nevertheless used which is applied to all. A generalizing tendency is unmistakable even here.

All this applies to Hadrian. His attempts to advance Greek culture are an illustration of archaism. His unifying ambition made him collect all official gods in the Pantheon¹³. His eccentric ideas of unity led to the creation of architectural and sculptural monstrosities in Tivoli, the remains of which are the despair of the archaeologists when reconstruction is attempted. It was dangerous to interfere with his favourite ideas. People who did not share them were sure of the imperial disfavour¹⁴. Geographical distances no longer counted: Egypt was in Italy and Canopus in Tivoli. Unity of the Empire there should be—and likewise unity of the people. The latter especially was regarded as an ideal in the second century. It is not without reason that in this period Alexander the Great was the object of the emperors' emulation. The philosophy of more than four centuries had linked the ideal of homonoia, the unity of mankind, with the great Macedonian.

Hadrian regards himself as the successor of Hercules and Philip II of Macedon, because they are mentioned as his examples when he is initiated into the Eleusinian mysteries¹⁵.

It is interesting to note that to a modern historian this example of Philip seems problematical. It is true that we know nothing about Philip being initiated, and initiation seems extremely improbable on account of the hatred towards him on the part of the Athenians. Is it feasible that Hadrian should have taken the destroyer of Greek freedom for an example?—For these reasons it has been suggested to read in our source “exemplo … Philopappi” in stead of “exemplo. … Philippi”. This implies that Hadrian followed the example of a ruler of Commagene who settled in Athens in 114 a.d. after handing over his regency¹⁶.

Our first objection to this alteration of the text is that a combination of Heracles and Philopappus, a giant and a dwarf, strikes us as ridiculous. There is, however, a convincing reason to link Heracles and Philip together. The new ruler Hadrian follows the path of Heracles, in this case not so much of the Greek hero as of the founder of the Macedonian royal house, whose example had been followed by the father of Alexander the Great. As far as we know Alexander had not been initiated. Hadrian shall make up for the son's neglect by the initiation in Eleusis. Whether Philip actually had been initiated is irrelevant. Philip was also a great unifier and Panhellene. The lofty precedent is linked with a significant reconciliation which is quite in line with his consolidating policy.

The homonoia finds an echo in Pliny's Panegyricus and in Dio Chrysostom's Peri basileias, the latter perhaps even more than Plutarch representative of the archaizing rhetorical spirit of the age. The king, in this case the Roman emperor, embodies the unity of the empire; looking to him inspires homonoia. This symbolism had a powerful influence. It assured to Alexander a place of divine elevation in the appreciation of the second century a.d. Arrian's historical work, the basis of all modern studies of Alexander, was the outcome of this impulse. It even provided Arrian with an argument for his reverence for Ptolemy. True, Ptolemy had been a contemporary and an eye-witness of Alexander's exploits, but he himself had become a king and as such he was one of the examples to guide man's activities, also in historiography. “Kings do not tell lies” Arrian says in the Preface to his Anabasis Alexandri.

Arrian's words bring us to the subject of emperor worship. In the second century a.d. it was obviously prompted by archaizing and consolidating tendencies as well as by the need for an object of emulation. Worship of the emperor looks to the past, especially to the inspiring example of Augustus. Disreputable figures like Caligula and Nero could not impair the reverence for Augustus, but rather enhanced it. Gradually the reverence for the living emperor and his family outstrips that for his immediate predecessors; still, the respect for the first Princeps remains unabated. Under Trajan and Hadrian over-emphasis on the ruler cult, at least officially, is not to be expected.

The development of the provinces as more or less independent parts of the Empire continues in all directions, particularly in the economic field. Rome is no longer the centre of the world. But it seems as if, contrary to this decentralizing tendency, there is a growing trend to regard the emperor as the consolidating element. Hadrian, who shared the rough and the smooth with the troops, who in the field led the life of a private soldier, and who sincerely strove to be a servant to his subjects—as is evidenced by many unambiguous data—, was the very man who was put on a pedestal: an Olympian, symbol of the maiestas of the Empire, not only to the Greeks but also to the nations of Asia Minor, be they Carians, Lydians or Pisidians. So, to a greater extent than before, the ruler cult became the centre of the state religion. Miracles reveal the power of the emperor: he heals the sick¹⁷, and his arrival brings rain after a prolonged drought¹⁸. His predecessors and he himself are the Olympians in the Olympieion¹⁹. In Asia he consecrates templa sui nominis²⁰, at Cyzicus he is called the thirteenth of the Olympians, deus tertius decimus²¹.

It may be asked whether the emperor accepted these expressions of reverence from the very beginning of his rule. To find an answer to this question we need to distinguish between two forms of emperor worship which might conveniently be connected with the names of Domitian and Trajan. The former strove to support his absolutism by various tyrannical measures. Some of these belonged to the field of worship and pictured the emperor as a supreme being, far removed from the masses. Trajan brought the emperor's person back to ordinary life, back to the people, and he stripped it of the morbid aspects invented by terrified and servile sycophants. Hadrian consciously followed his immediate predecessor and thereby the tradition of the best emperors of the first century who had accepted divine homage, though in moderation. We should remember here the fact pointed out long ago by Ed. Meyer in his study ‘Alexander der Grosse und die absolute Monarchie’²². All absolutism in antiquity, so he argues,—and the position of the Roman emperor had become absolute—is only practicable as a divine kingship. It is not my intention to elaborate this nor to analyse the various ways in which this divine kingship became a reality. For the present it is sufficient to point out that Hadrian could not dispense with this divine sanction as a support for his throne. As may be expected in a legitimate succession of divine rulers, this sanction comes from the deified predecessor or from the god responsible for the ascent to heaven. “Having just mounted aloft with Trajan in my chariot of white horses, I come to you, oh people, I, Phoebus, by no means an unknown god, to proclaim the new ruler Hadrian, whom all things serve on account of his virtue and the genius of his divine father”, so begins a duet sung at Heptokomia, the metropolis of the Egyptian nome Apollonopolites, by (the priest of) Apollo and a representative of the citizens at the celebration of Hadrian's accession. And the people respond: “Let us make merry, let us kindle our hearths in sacrifice, let us surrender our souls to laughter, to the wine of the fountains and the unguents of the gymnasia; for all of which we are indebted to the reverence of our strategos for our lord (Hadrian) and his zeal on our behalf”²³. If we remember that Hadrian's accession did not proceed without repercussions, necessitating the execution of four consulares²⁴, we can understand how welcome was the support of divus Trajan—not to mention Apollo.

Of the emperors of the first century we know that they sometimes declined divine honours. Tiberius did so repeatedly. Even a hostile literary tradition, which resented the idea of divine kingship, could not conceal these cases and they are confirmed by authentic inscriptions²⁵. The same applies to Claudius²⁶. We might even speak of ‘The Refusal of Divine Honours, an Augustan Formula’²⁷. The good emperors especially resented that the provinces were put to great expense in this matter. It is the tyrannical and absolute monarchs like Caligula, Nero, Domitian, Commodus and Caracalla who accepted their statues in gold and silver. The duet of Heptokomia does mention a divine sanction given to the reigning emperor, but not a divine kingship with all the trappings of presents and expensive cults and temples. We can understand, however, that the growing popularity of Hadrian—of which we have striking evidence²⁸—gradually made it difficult to refuse honours and to decline the precious gifts which were inherent in the ruler cult.

Hadrian's reign presents, I believe, three phases, each of which may be illustrated by one event, viz. in 126, 130 (?) and 134 a.d.

In 126 the emperor partly refused the honours offered to him by the Achaean League²⁹. J. H. Oliver is probably right in asserting that the Achaeans in their accompanying address deliberately exaggerated because they foresaw the emperor's subsequent curtailment. The crucial passage reads: “They received themselves the letter written in reply by the greatest and most divine emperor, in which the greatest and most divine emperor accepted some honours but declined others as being objectionable”. The wording shows the progress made, for the form of address is far more exuberant and rhetorical (or perhaps even more servile) than e.g. the Gytheum inscription from the time of Tiberius³⁰; this emperor is only [autokhratōr], son of divine Augustus. Likewise the introduction of Claudius' letter to the Alexandrians³¹ enumerates many titles but no indications of the emperor's divinity. The Achaeans, however, called Hadrian [Theiotatos] twice in one line. There is some ambiguity here: the emperor himself practises simplicity in material things, but the forms in which homage is expressed become more exuberant without any apparent objection on the part of the emperor.

The second phase falls in 130, after the death of his favourite page Antinous. I do not intend to go into the many unsolved problems which still shroud the figure of this boy; the main facts are well known³². At the age of eighteen or twenty Antinous was drowned in the Nile in October 130. Hadrian wept for him like a woman³³ and ordered Antinous to be consecrated as a new god in heaven. He said that he had seen a star which announced Antinous' deification. Court officials told him that this star was begotten of the soul of Antinous and had appeared for the first time shortly after his death. The statement pleased the emperor³⁴. In the course of a few years this imperial adoration had developed into a mighty cult which for many years inspired second century art. Especially in the East Antinous was honoured with sanctuaries and statues. In Athens, Eleusis and Argos games were organized in his honour³⁵. Behind it all was the strong influence of the mourning emperor as is testified in the Vita Hadriani³⁶: “et Graeci quidem volente Hadriano eum consecraverunt”, and probably in a letter from the emperor to the Greeks³⁷. It is small wonder that Antinous became the centre of a flourishing literature. Legend got hold of his figure: the youth was supposed to have sacrificed his life in order to save the emperor³⁸. Less creditable tales also went the rounds. What caused the emperor's unusual interest in the departed page? There were whispers about homosexual relations. The rumour is reflected in Julian's Caesares (311 D) where this emperor ridicules Hadrian who, received among the gods after his death, at once set out to find Antinous, to the merriment of the drunk Silenus. We can understand that the comments of early Christian writers are full of abhorrence³⁹.—It is not easy to draw the line here between slander and truth. Perhaps Henderson is right when he remarks: “For all we know, it was a pure enough friendship between Hadrian, who had no son, and Antinous”⁴⁰. Even so, why the veneration, why the derision by the entourage mentioned not only in the Vita but also by a reliable historian like Cassius Dio?⁴¹

The novelist Hausrath has his explanation ready: the cause is the emperor's superstition and mysticism. Modern scholars adhere to the same theory. However, our sources do not mention such mysticism; rather the opposite. Cassius Dio, whose testimony is to be preferred to that of any other source, calls Hadrian [teriergotatos] in religious matters, which we might translate by “highly inquisitive”⁴². He experimented with all sorts of cults, he let himself be initiated at Eleusis, and he used a number of magical formulas. After all these ventures he elaborated his projects of unification. Sacrificial services and cults were instituted for whole cities and mysterious rites were planned for all magicians. The founding of the Pantheon and the supervision of the state religion and of all religious ceremonies which in the past had been observed throughout the Empire, all this had his care⁴³. He was indeed [teriergotatos], with the one purpose to put everything in the melting pot and so to produce one official religion representing all the various elements.

This only tends to aggravate the Antinous problem; here the emperor, so it seems, consciously chose other paths. Unless, that is to say, this unusual reverence for his favourite page could be shown to fit in with his general religious policy. I believe we can demonstrate that such indeed is the case.

Generally speaking, the apparent contradictions in Hadrian's policy and in his person are basically the result of inadequate discernment on the part of modern historians. His measures sometimes give a vividly modern impression and make him appear as a renovator and a creator. On the other hand we often find in his political and personal whims evidence of his restoring and re-creative activity welding together dissimilar parts; this, too, means renovation, but it seldom produces a harmonious whole. The imitator arranges the parts but fails to link them together. If, as in the case of the deification of Antinous, we find an apparent contrast with his consolidating and unifying policy, we should ask whether here, too, the imitator ranks first, and whether the supposed originality, the creation of the new god, only aims at retaining the past.

It is indeed feasible to regard the case of Antinous as strong evidence of the emperor's leaning towards the past. He finds his inspiration, I believe, in the literature of the Augustan period, in the fourth Eclogue, in the divine child. We do not know what his interpretation of the fourth Eclogue was, and whether he actually connected Antinous' death with his own hopes of offspring. In passing I may point out that Lucius Verus was born in 130 a.d., the year of the death of Antinous, and that according to a plausible theory his father Aelius Verus was a son of Hadrian⁴⁴; I will refer to this later. In matters of history there never is a perfect recurrence; the child in the fourth Eclogue and the dead page seemingly have nothing in common. But to the emperor this might have been a literary memento, readily accepted. His act of deification was inspired by mourning, perhaps by the longing for a descendant as beautiful and devoted as the dear departed. Had not Augustus in Egypt been called “the handsome youth”?⁴⁵. During this episode Hadrian's orders were inspired by literature, the action was again reflected in contemporary literature and it inspired the art of the next decades. The star of Antinous⁴⁶ mentioned in the sources is an obligatory attribute, the counterpart of the Sidus Iulium. The ‘spirit of renovation’, prevailing in the second century, found expression in forms belonging to the past. In Hadrian's policy religion and literature are the religion of the past and literary masterpieces of a bygone age. The consecration of Antinous was inspired by both.

I have no wish to over-stress this inspiration. We should not overlook the strong influence in this connection of an Egyptian belief, that a person drowned in the Nile was deified⁴⁷. This explains the idea which equates Antinous with Osiris⁴⁸. Hadrian linked Egyptian religious concepts with literary reminiscences of the Roman past. This to us is the principal point: his consolidating activity enabled him to combine and harmonize quite different concepts. Antinous therefore was adorned with the divine attributes not only of Osiris, but also of Dionysus, Hermes, Apollo, Ganymede, or other deities⁴⁹.

There are two more examples of measures prompted by memories of his earliest predecessors, Caesar and Augustus. Hadrian's era, with Sept. 124 as its epoch, meant a return to Caesar's and Augustus' activities concerning the calendar and the provincial eras. The fact that the emperor published his reforms during his first visit to Athens emphasizes that his motive was not Roman but imperial, in agreement with his aims of consolidation⁵⁰. Also following Augustus he wrote his Res Gestae⁵¹, although the contents were quite different. Augustus prided himself on his activities on behalf of the Roman people, whereas Hadrian only recalled the debt Greeks and barbarians owed him in cultural matters. Both his measures had no Roman significance, yet again he felt the necessity of choosing forms which could be found in the Roman past. Here, too, he is an imitator of patterns, as he is in plastic art and literature: varius multiplex multiformis, as the Epitome has it⁵².

These feelings were deep-seated. Even his enemies admitted that his mourning over Antinous was genuine; the rumours about pederasty were the result. His love for the past gave us Tivoli, that place of despair to many an archaeologist. His fondness for archaic forms made him try his hand at writing highly affected literary pieces⁵³, at rhetorical work both in theory and practice, and at architecture⁵⁴. He tried to reform literary taste; Alexandrian poetry was preferred, Homer was abolished⁵⁵. These hobbies he took very seriously, and he did not tolerate rivalry. Two sophists, Favorinus of Arles and Dionysius of Miletus, he degraded in favour of unimportant rivals, simply because he thought them too good⁵⁶. This jealousy cost his architect Apollodorus of Damascus his life⁵⁷, the man against whom the emperor had had a grudge from boyhood. As a youth he had indulged in some pert remarks to the architect, who was not a little irritated. The boy happened to be engaged on a drawing and in his anger Apollodorus had said: “You just go on drawing pumpkins”. Later on, when the emperor called in the architect in connection with the building of the Venus temple at Rome, his only purpose was to show that he could manage himself. Apollodorus however expressed a direct and damning criticism of the emperor's project and this was his undoing⁵⁸. This jealousy made Hadrian do away also with possible rivals in political matters; shortly after his accession four consulares were disposed of. Cassius Dio⁵⁹ calls it the “murder of the best”.

Hadrian's behaviour in 130 showed clearly a progress towards absolutism. Antinous first of all was made an official favourite—which is the act of an absolute monarch—and as such he was deified after his death. I have tried to demonstrate that the form chosen by the emperor and the inspiration behind it were provided by the past.

In 134/135 coins appear bearing Antinous' image⁶⁰. In 134 commemorative festivals in honour of Antinous were held in many cities in the East, as is evidenced by money-issues of the period⁶¹. As far as we know no commemorative festival was held in Rome, but a cenotaph was erected there. This cenotaph bore an obelisk which has been preserved and in all probability shows Hadrian in military dress, his foot resting on a crocodile. Even if the figure on the obelisk does not represent the emperor, Hadrian was still pictured elsewhere with his foot on a crocodile, viz. on a coin which cannot be dated earlier than 134⁶².

This brings us to the third phase of ruler cult under Hadrian. For the first time a Roman emperor is represented with his foot resting on a crocodile. This means that the emperor is an incarnation of Horus. Of Hadrian's successors we know only one with similar arrogance, viz. Caracalla. It is the most extreme form of divine honour known to the Romans.

The attitude of the emperor towards Egypt was a curious one. From the beginning of his reign he had great interest in his Egyptian private domain. He was the first to have the images of Isis and Serapis on his coins⁶³. The Alexandrian gods are regarded as Roman gods. When the author of the Vita says⁶⁴: sacra Romana diligentissime curavit, peregrina contempsit, this implies in the case of the Egyptian cults that they were treated as Roman, for the emperor took great care of the Egyptian cults and sanctuaries. The worship of Antinous was introduced in an Egyptian form, Antinous being identified with Osiris. It is possible that his love of imitation found new scope here in a model which he liked and which he therefore added to his collection of curiosities.

I believe, however, that if we are prepared to admit Hadrian's love of imitation we should go further. His passion was not just arbitrary; it was consciously made to serve his ideal of consolidation of ideas and customs, forms and contents, and of welding together the nations of the unified empire which he ruled. We may also observe how Hadrian had recourse to imitation in order to effect unity where division prevailed. Such a division is most noticeable in literature.

P. Lambrechts has recently pointed out that Caligula admired Egypt, favoured the cult of Isis and initiated a policy which placed Egypt above Rome⁶⁵. This great-grandson of Mark Antony, so Lambrechts rightly remarks, is an exceptional figure in the Julio-Claudian house. Like his father Germanicus he was fascinated by Egypt. Tacitus tells us that Germanicus stayed in Egypt for a long time, although senators were strictly forbidden to stay there. Like Antony before him, he appeared in Alexandria in Greek attire, and Lambrechts may be right in saying:,,Ce geste est un programme politique”⁶⁶. So much is certain that Caligula followed his own policy, a policy quite different from that of Augustus. He also disliked the authors who had sung the praises of Augustus. He did not share the Roman ideal embodied in the first princeps. This is not surprising in one who regarded the outcome of the battle of Actium as a catastrophe, and who was on better terms with Hellenistic rulers like Antiochus of Commagene and Agrippa of Judaea than with the tradition-bound Roman nobility.—So much for a synopsis of Lambrechts' argument.

Hadrian, as we remarked, shared the admiration for Augustus but he sought, also in this conflict about Rome or Egypt, to reconcile opposite views. He well realized that even after two centuries Augustus and Mark Antony could not be united in one single imperial conception. But he was able to prevent any strong contrast between Rome and Egypt. This turned his palaces into Egyptian museums and brought as it were Canopus to Tivoli. It made him regard Egyptian deities as Roman and consecrate Antinous as an Egyptian god, and also to erect the obelisk showing himself as Horus in Rome⁶⁷.

There is one more curious detail. Caligula intended to destroy Homer's poems⁶⁸. Lambrechts' explanation that this was connected with the Homeric version of Helen's story is certainly plausible. It is well known that Euripides and Plato knew a different version, probably traceable to Stesichorus. According to this ‘Egyptian version’ Helen never was in Troy; the ship with Paris and her had drifted to Egypt where she remained under the fatherly care of king Proteus who restored her to her lawful husband. Lambrechts links his explanation with the decoration of the so-called Aula Isiaca of Caligula's palace on the Palatine⁶⁹, supposed to represent Helen's disembarkation in Egypt.

The remarkable fact is that, as we mentioned before, Hadrian also banned Homer. The current explanation, that Homer in the opinion of the emperor-critic was too good a poet, seems rather unsatisfactory. But if, for the reasons just stated, we may assume that Hadrian followed Caligula's policy with regard to Egypt, it alters the meaning of his attitude towards Homer. He too preferred a tradition about Helen which redounded to Egypt's honour, to the tradition of the Homeric poems. The only way to achieve the success of this was, according to the custom of the age, to ban Homer's writings.

In passing I referred to the succession. I believe that Hadrian's policy with regard to the succession to the throne is one of the most striking examples of his imitative and consolidating capacities⁷⁰. Why did Hadrian in the year 136 adopt a nonentity like Ceionius Commodus Verus (after his adoption called Lucius Aelius Caesar)? Court circles were opposed to it, and the emperor's own opinion of his heir's accomplishments was unfavourable⁷¹. J. Carcopino, after dealing ingeniously with a number of data, concludes that Aelius Verus was a natural son of the emperor. When Aelius died before Hadrian, the former's young son took his father's place. So to Antoninus Pius who had been appointed as the immediate successor fell the delicate duty of preparing the boy for the imperial office. In this manner the succession was made secure, but not only for the gens Aelia, the emperor's family. The arrangement with Antoninus Pius also involved a sixteen year old boy, the later emperor Marcus Aurelius. Why this? Because he was supposed to be a descendant in the fifth degree of Marciana, Trajan's sister, and as such he belonged to the gens Ulpia to which Hadrian's wife Sabina had also belonged. If this hypothesis is correct, Hadrian charged Antoninus Pius with the guardianship over two young princes, one the son of his bastard and an Aelius by blood, the other a descendant of his predecessor's family, an Ulpius by blood. Hadrian then must have contemplated an Ulpio-Aelian dynasty after the Julio-Claudian example.

There is one more point which Carcopino does not mention, but which lends support to his hypothesis. In the first century the mother and the wife of the emperor had already become elements of the ruler cult. Apart from a limited consecration which need not have political significance, there came about the complete apotheosis of the empress. Claudius, who felt more like a Claudian than a Julian, had persisted in bringing about the apotheosis of his grandmother Livia⁷², and earlier Caligula had presented the macabre farce of Drusilla's apotheosis. From Hadrian's immediate predecessor we do not hear about the consecration of female members of the imperial family. Here, too, Hadrian goes back to the Julio-Claudian dynasty. His divae are Marciana, Trajan's sister, her daughter Matidia and her granddaughter Sabina, Hadrian's wife, besides Plotina, Trajan's wife⁷³.

Here then the women of the gens Ulpia and of the gens Aelia are united. Their consecration adds lustre to the dynasty which Hadrian wished to establish.

The examples of Hadrian's religious policy discussed above cannot be said to impair this reconstruction of the succession. Indeed they confirm the general aspect of the emperor's policy, the keynotes of which were centralization, unification and conservation⁷⁴.

Notes

1. M. Rostovtzeff, Gesellschaft und Wirtschaft im römischen Kaiserreich II, 1931, p. 84.

2. Vita Hadr. 25,9.

3. Cambridge Ancient History XI, 1936, p. 324.

4. Römische Charakterköpfe³, 1918, p. 323.

5. B. d'Orgeval, L'empereur Hadrien (oeuvre législative et administrative), 1950, p. 33.

6. B. W. Henderson, The Life and Principate of the Emperor Hadrian, 1923, p. 246.

7. P. Graindor, Athènes sous Hadrien, 1934, p. 118.

8. For the diminutives see the general conclusions of E. Schwyzer, Griechische Grammatik II, 1950, p. 36, and of J. B. Hofmann, Lateinische Umgangssprache, 1936, p. 139, 201 (cf. the same author in Stolz-Schmalz, Lateinische Grammatik⁵, 1926, p. 834 f., where,,die tändelnde Häufung bei Hadrian” is mentioned). One may compare also the valuable observations of R. Hakamies, Étude sur l'origine et l'évolution du diminutif latin et sa survie dans les langues romanes, Helsinki 1951, and the useful survey of P. A. W. Steynen, Stylistische opmerkingen aangaande het gebruik der deminutiva in het Latijn, Thesis of the Catholic Univ. at Nijmegen 1953.

9. Vita Hadr. 1,5. According to Graindor (op. cit., p. 1) ‘Graeculus’ was a name of honour. The text, however, runs as follows: Imbutusque inpensius Graecis studiis, ingenio sic ad ea declinante ut a nonnullis Graeculus diceretur. It may be that inpensius is depreciatory.—The emperor's Panhellenic and unifying activities have recently been summarized by H. Bengtson, Griech. Geschichte, 1950 p. 507 ff.

10. Pap. Osl. III, 78. The translation is P. J. Alexander's, from his article Letters and Speeches of the Emperor Hadrian, Harv. Stud. in Class. Philol., 49, 1938, p. 141-177 (quotation on p. 165/6).

11. Op. cit., II, p. 81 (cf. ibid., p. 321, note 13).

12. P. L. Strack, Untersuchungen zur römischen Reichsprägung des 2. Jahrhunderts, II, 1933, p. 165-166.

13. Vita Hadr. 19, 10.

14. The ban on circumcision (Vita Hadr. 14,2) was a general measure which aimed at the same ideal: no distinction was to be made between the inhabitants of the empire on the ground that some mutilated their body and others not. Hence circumcision was forbidden as well as castration. Rud. Meyer s. v. περιτέμνω in the Theol. Wörterbuch zum N.T., VI (2nd fasc., 1955), p. 79, gives a good selection of the abundant modern literature on the subject.

15. Vita Hadr. 13,1. Augustus was the only Roman emperor who had been initiated. Here also Hadrian followed a famous example. He was the first emperor to give the Eleusinian mysteries a Panhellenic standard (M. P. Nilsson, Geschichte der griechischen Religion II, 1950, p. 330).

16. J. H. Oliver, Hadrian's Precedent, the alleged imitation of Philip II, Amer. Journ. Philol., 71, 1950, p. 295-299.

17. Vita Hadr. 25,1-4. Cf. O. Weinreich, Antike Heilungswunder, 1909, p. 66, 73 ff. The same was told of Vespasian (Tac. Hist. 4,81).

18. Vita Hadr. 22,14.

19. Cassius Dio 69, 16, 1, a statement which has been borne out by abundant epigraphic evidence; see for instance OGIS nr 603 and Ann. épigr. 1938, nr 140.

20. Vita Hadr. 13,6.

21. Socrates, Hist. eccl. III, 23 (p. 205).

22. Kleine Schriften I, 1910, p. 283-332, spec. p. 312 (second ed., 1924, p. 294):,,In der Tat ist die Erhebung des absoluten Monarchen zum Gott nichts andres als die Verleihung der gesetzgebenden Gewalt an den Herrscher in einer Form, die sich mit den bestehenden rechtlichen Anschauungen verträgt”.

23. Pap. Giss. 3. An extensive bibliography has been given by Alexander, art. cit., p. 143 ff.; the translation of the passage given above has been borrowed from this paper.

24. Cassius Dio 69, 1, 4; 2, 5-6; Vita Hadr. 4, 10; 5, 5; 7, 1-2. On Lusius Quietus, see my papers in Mnemosyne Q.S., I, 1948, p. 327-337; III, 1950, 339-343, and Aurel Jordănescu, Lusius Quietus, Thesis Boucarest 1941, spec. p. 77 ff.

25. Suppl. Epigr. Gr. XI, 1954, 922/3, with extensive bibliography.

26. Pap. Londin. 1912. See also V. M. Scramuzza, The Emperor Claudius, 1940, p. 285; H. I. Bell, Creeds in Graeco-Roman Egypt, 1953, p. 43; my forthcoming article ‘Claudius’ in Reallexikon für Antike und Christentum.

27. M. P. Charlesworth in Papers Br. School at Rome, 15, NS 2, 1939, p. 1-10.

28. Cassius Dio 69, 5, 2-3, and the many anecdotes about his friendly behaviour, some of which were in the third century collected in children's textbooks, for instance the Hadriani sententiae in the Hermeneumata of Pseudo-Dositheus (See H.-I. Marrou, Histoire de l'éducation dans l'antiquité, 1948, p. 356 ff.).

29. J. H. Oliver, documents concerning the emperor Hadrian, Hesperia 10, 1941, p. 361-370, spec. 362.

30. See p. 132, note 3.

31. See p. 132, note 4.

32. For the sources, see Henderson, op. cit., p. 130, note 5.

33. Vita Hadr. 14,5.

34. Cassius Dio, 69, 11,4. …

35. On the Antinoeia see L. Robert, Rev. des ét. gr., LXV, 1952, p. 191 ff.

36. Vita Hadr. 14,7.

37. J. H. Oliver in Hesperia 10, 1941, p. 77/8.

38. Vita Hadr. 14,6.

39. Justin, Apol. 29,4; Tertullian, Ad nat. 2,10. The accusation has recently been repeated by U. Kahrstedt, Geschichte des griechisch-römischen Altertums², 1952, p. 482.

40. Op. cit., p. 133.

41. 69, 11, 11, 4. …

42. 69, 22, 1.

43. Vita Hadr. 19, 10.

44. See p. 143, note 1.

45. P. Wendland, Die hellenistisch-römische Kultur in ihren Beziehungen zu Judentum und Christentum und die urchristl. Literaturformen^2-3, 1912, p. 410, text no. 10 (the official Egyptian title of Augustus):,,Der schöne Knabe, lieblich durch Liebenswürdigkeit, der Fürst der Fürsten, auserwählt von Ptah und Nun, dem Vater der Götter, König von Oberägypten und König von Unterägypten, Herr der beiden Länder, Autokrator, Sohn der Sonne, Herr der Diademe, Kaiser, ewig lebend, geliebt von Ptah und Isis”. For the literary evidence of the Augustan Age see P. Lambrechts. Het begrip ‘jeugd’ in de politieke en godsdienstige hervormingen van Augustus, L'Ant. Class., 17, 1948, p. 355-371.

46. Cassius Dio, 69, 11, 4; Strack, op. cit., p. 106-107 gives the numismatic data.

47. Apotheosis by drowning is evidenced as early as the 30th dynasty, perhaps even earlier, in case Hrdt. II, 90 can be explained as referring to the cult of the drowned (F. Ll. Griffith, Herodotos II. 90. Apotheosis by drowning, Zeitschr. f. Ägypt. Sprache u. Altertumskunde 46, 1909, p. 132-134; cf. M. A. Murray, ibid., 51, 1913, p. 127-135). A list of these deified drowned has been given by A. Rowe, Newly-identified monuments in the Egyptian Museum showing the Deification of the Dead, etc., Annales du Service 40, 1940, p. 1-50 (3-28, Antinous on p. 25-26) and Addenda, ibid., p. 291-296, with a note by W. G. Waddell.

    Their title of honour was ḥsy (lit. ‘praised’), of which Coptic, Aramaic, Greek and Latin transcriptions are known (e.g. Tertullian, De Baptismo 5: nam et esietos vocant … quos aquae necaverunt). Apart from ḥsy some of them may also receive the title ḥry (‘Master’). The translation ‘saint’ is based on the arguments of Mustafa el-Amir, who translates ḥry with ‘Saint’ and ḥsy with ‘Martyr’; he also points out that in Egypt this cult of the drowned continues to exist till the present day (The Cult of Hryw at Thebes in the Ptolemaic Period, Journ. of Egyptian Arch., 37, 1951, p. 81-85).

48. For this equation see Fr. W. von Bissing, Apotheosis by drowning, Recueil de Travaux 34, 1912, p. 37-38; H. Kees, Apotheosis by drowning, Studies presented to F. Ll. Griffith, London 1932, p. 402-405.—For the bibliographical references in this and in the previous note I am indebted to Dr A. Klasens of the Leyden Museum of Antiquities.

49. Henderson, op. cit., p. 132.

50. The inscriptions, dated according to the Hadrianic era, are summarized by Graindor, op. cit., p. 3, note 1, and p. 39. On Augustus' provincial reforms see i.a. Nilsson, op. cit., II, p. 370 (cf. p. 368).

51. Graindor, op. cit., p. 55-56, rightly follows Wilamowitz, Hermes, 21, 623 ff., who compared Hadrian with Augustus in this respect. (Cf. Mommsen, Ges. Schr., IV, p. 254). The objections of Henderson, op. cit., p. 114, are unfounded.

52. Epit. de Caes. 14, 6. For Augustus as Hadrian's example see W. Weber in Cambr. Anc. History, XI, p. 306 ff.

53. It is not necessary to repeat here the ancient testimonies which have been collected by Henderson, op. cit., p. 240 ff. Henderson, however, is not very successful, when he denies the emperor's rivalry with several prominent literary authors of his time.

54. On his building activities the literary testimonies have been collected by Miss J. M. C. Toynbee, The Hadrianic School, 1934, p. xxiii. That the emperor himself was responsible for the introduction of foreign styles into Athens and Rome, has once more been proved by D. E. Strong, Late Hadrianic Ornament in Rome, Papers Br. School at Rome, 21, NS 8, 1953, p. 118-151.

55. Cassius Dio 69, 4, 6 (cf. Vita Hadr. 16, 6).

56. Cassius Dio 69, 3, 4-6; Pap. Vat. 11 (Favorinus' Περὶ pυγῆς), see B. Häsler, Favorin über die Verbannung, Berlin 1935. Philostratus Vit. Soph. I, 25 is more favourable to Hadrian. But Cassius Dio's account is undoubtedly reliable. Graindor, op. cit., p. 62-66, offers the available data on Hadrian's attitude to the most famous sophists of this period. See also R. A. Pack, Artemidorus and the Physiognomists, Transactions of the Americ. Philol. Ass., 72, 1941, p. 321-334, spec. 323; J. Keil, Vertreter der zweiten Sophistik in Ephesos, Jahreshefte des österreich. archäol. Inst. in Wien, XL, 1953, p. 5-26.

57. Cassius Dio 69, 4. Apollodorus was also one of the technical advisors in military matters (F. Lammert, Die antike Poliorketik und ihr Weiterwirken, Klio, 31, 1938, p. 389-411, spec. p. 392/3).

58. The early Hadrianic monuments are in style closely connected with the buildings of Trajan. As Strong has pointed out (art. cit., p. 138 and passim) this can be reasonably explained by the fact that during the first years of Hadrian's reign Apollodorus continued to act as general overseer of public works (see also p. 138, note 5).

59. Cassius Dio 69, 2, 5.

60. Strack, op. cit., p. 166:,,der griechische Osten hat freudig den Kult des neuen jugendlichen Gott ergriffen. Alexandria und die griechischen Städte prägten sein Bild, das niemals auf der Reichsmünze begegnet; in Alexandreia erscheint er zum ersten Mal im Jahre 134/35, zugleich mit ihm das Kultbild des Nil in einem Tempel (J. Vogt, Die alexandrinischen Münzen, 1924, p. 106); der Zusammenhang zwischen der Verehrung des Nilus und derjenigen des Antinous liegt daher nahe; hatte doch der Gott ihn der Gemeinschaft gewürdigt, ihn den Menschen zum unentbehrlichen Begräbnis zurückgegeben und so den Jüngling selbst als Gott bezeichnet”. Strack follows Weber, but neither takes into account the Egyptian religious belief (mentioned above p. 137) concerning a human being drowned in the Nile.

61. J. M. C. Toynbee, Greek Imperial Medallions, Journ. Rom. Stud., 34, 1944, p. 65-73, who refers to G. Blum, Numismatique d'Antinoos, JIAN, 1914, p. 33-70 (which I have not been able to consult). I agree with Miss Toynbee that it seems highly probable that “the Antinous-pieces were festival issues, struck for such occasions as the annual ceremonies and four-yearly festivals, established by Hadrian at Mantinea in Arcadia in the dead hero's honour” (art. cit., p. 66-67).

62. A. C. Levi, Hadrian as King of Egypt, Num. Chron., 1948, p. 30-38. For Antinous see p. 38 (where also bibliography).

63. For Hadrian and Egypt, see W. Weber, Unters. zur Geschichte des Kaisers Hadrianus, 1907, p. 246 ff.; J. G. Milne, A History of Egypt under Roman Rule², 1924, p. 54, and the literature mentioned by H. I. Bell, Egypt from Alexander the Great to the Arab Conquest, p. 162 (for his ch. III).—For his Egyptian coins, see Strack, op. cit., p. 163 ff.

64. Vita Hadr. 22, 10.

65. Caligula dictateur littéraire, Bulletin de l'Institut historique belge de Rome 28, 1953, p. 219-232.

66. Ann. II, 59 (cf. Lambrechts in his article mentioned in the previous note, p. 224/5).

67. Strack, op. cit., p. 163 may possibly provide an indication based on Alexandrian coins.

68. Suet. Cal. 34.

69. Lambrechts, art. cit., p. 229-230. I add as corroborating evidence Tac. Ann. II, 60, where Menelaus' visit is mentioned in an episode of Germanicus' stay in Egypt, viz. at Canopus: Condidere id Spartani ob sepultum illic rectorem navis Canopum, qua tempestate Menelaus Graeciam repetens diversum ad mare terramque Libyam deiectus est. Although Tacitus seems to follow the Homeric version, his statement may imply that Menelaus' (and Helen's) voyage was mentioned (perhaps discussed) during Germanicus' stay.

    According to Prof. H. G. Beyen the paintings of the Aula Isiaca date from the beginning of the reign of Augustus (Bericht über den VI. internationalen Kongress für Archäologie, 1940, p. 504-5; Studia Vollgraff, 1948, p. 11). If this dating is correct—fuller details will be available in his forthcoming book—these paintings of course cannot support Lambrechts' theory.

70. In the following I concur with the suggestions of J. Carcopino, L'hérédité dynastique chez les Antonins, Revue des études anciennes 51, 1949 (n^os 3-4, juillet-décembre), although I do not subscribe to all his arguments. His main conclusions have been reinforced by P. Grenade, Le règlement successoral d'Hadrien, ibid. 52, 1950, p. 258-277.

71. Vita Hadr. 23, 11; vita Aelii 3, 7.

72. G. Grether, Livia and the Imperial Cult, Americ. Journ. Philol. 67, 1946, p. 222-252.

73. J. H. Oliver, The Divi of the Hadrianic Period, Harv. Theol. Rev., 42, 1949, p. 35-40.

74. I am deeply indebted to Dr. A. Fontein (The Hague) and to Mr. A. G. Woodhead (Cambridge), both for the translation of this paper and for some references.